Chapter Forty-One

The next morning Alyson woke up to the vibrating of her phone on the table next to her. She grabbed the phone, saw it was her dad, and debated whether or not she wanted to ignore the call.

She didn't, however, because it could've been important.

"Feeling better?" he asked cautiously. He sounded surprised that she had answered.

For a few seconds she wondered what she needed to feel better about, and then she remembered what had happened the day before.

Sam.

She was no longer hurt and had woken up feeling relatively normal. That was why she hadn't remembered. Now she did and she could feel her throat tighten, threatening to close off her airway.

Her hand tightened around the phone, the other fisted on the sheet. She hadn't had any nightmares the night before – miraculously – but she was having a waking nightmare now.

"Alyson?" Jack said. "Say something."

She tried to speak. She really did, but she couldn't breathe. When she opened her mouth only a squeak came out. It was enough to wake Dean up, though, and he quickly became aware of the situation.

"What's wrong?" he asked, going from asleep to completely alert in less than five seconds.

She still couldn't say a word, but she didn't have to. Dean had seen this before. He knew how to help her through the onset of a panic attack.

He grabbed her free hand gently and placed her open palm against his bare chest. He was forcing himself to breathe normally.

"Breathe with me," he said softly. "I know it's hard, but I know you can."

She closed her eyes then, hoping it would help her calm down. Big mistake. Darkness . . . mausoleum . . . weight on top of her.

"Hey," Dean said. "Open your eyes. You're not there anymore. You're with me and you're safe. I'll always keep you safe if I can help it."

She opened her eyes then and looked at her hand on his chest. She felt the rhythm of his breathing. She always found that soothing. The simple fact that he was alive usually helped bring her peace.

The tension slowly left her body and she was able to breathe again.

Jack was yelling over the phone, but she'd dropped it and her hand back to the bed some time ago. She slowly picked the phone back up so she could tell him that she was okay, but Dean swiftly took the phone from her hand and brought it to his own ear.

"Alyson will have to call you back," he said and ended the call abruptly.

He pulled her to him then even though she was already calming down, and she was grateful. She was back in the present now, but it had been a while since she'd had a full-on onset of a panic attack.

"What happened?"

She shook her head. "I woke up feeling normal . . . Then I remembered." She sighed. "I didn't mean to freak out."

She tensed up. "I need to call Jack."

"Soon," Dean said.

"I was . . . so mean to him last night."

"Uh . . . after everything that happened . . ."

"He doesn't know what happened, though, and I shouldn't have taken it out on him."

"You're allowed to be human, you know," Dean teased.

She relaxed a little. "Then is it okay that I'm not really sorry for what I said? I mean, I'm sorry for how I said it, but I think it needed to be said."

What she could do scared her. Dean knew that because Alyson had told him so many times. The fact that she didn't know what she was fully capable of didn't help matters at all.

A few hours later, after breakfast, Alyson called her dad back. She didn't tell him what had happened between her and Sam when Sam had been possessed because she didn't feel as though it would change anything, but she did apologize for freaking out earlier.

"Did you only call to see how I was doing?" she asked.

"That was part of it. I, uh . . . if there's anything you wanna know, I'm here. I'll tell you what I can, but not over the phone."

That was one of the things Alyson had gotten upset about the night before. Jack had offered information, but he hadn't wanted to give it over the phone. He'd also told her that there were some things he wasn't allowed to tell her. She had to figure some things out for herself.

If he wasn't allowed to tell her . . . who was he taking orders from, and why was he following orders to begin with?

She put her thoughts aside so she could focus on her conversation and respond.

"I appreciate that you're willing to help, but everything's okay now. And I'm not really sure I wanna know. Pandora's box and all that."

"You think you won't like the truth if you find it?"

"I don't know. That's what scares me."

"Well . . . that's too bad, ya know, 'cause I got in touch with someone who could probably help you out."

Alyson's breath caught in her chest and she sat up straighter.

"What? Who?"

Alyson, Sam, Dean, and Bobby were all in the living room, Alyson and Dean on the couch, Sam and Bobby seated at the book table. All three guys had turned to her when she'd become even more alert than she normally was.

"Someone I've known since I found the prophecy about you. You can trust him. He's a priest, and he's a very private man, but I'm sure he'll see you as a favor to me."

"Does he know about me?"

"He doesn't know who you are, but he has seen the prophecy. Before I destroyed it, he was the one who translated it. Roughly, anyway, but he can probably tell you what I can't."

"Where? When?"

"He owns a small place in Corydon, Indiana. But wait, okay? I need to set everything up. He wouldn't respond well to you just popping up out of nowhere."

"And you said that we can trust him?"

"Definitely."

"Okay. Hold on."

She quickly went through what Jack had told her. She wasn't just going to up and leave on her own. Sam and Dean needed to agree to go with her. Sam and Dean thought that if it would help her understand what had happened then they should definitely go.

"Okay. Set it up."

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" Dean asked as Alyson packed her stuff into a bag. Dean was all for Aly learning about herself, but she needed to be sure she wanted to know.

They might find out something not completely good – not something bad, really, but something Alyson wouldn't like – and once she found out, she wouldn't be able to think about anything else.

"I need to know more. I have questions. Like . . . what if I start using my abilities too much? Is it gonna drain me? Will I get stronger?"

"No, I get that," Dean said quickly. She did need to know those things. "I just want you to make sure you're ready before you open the truth box. Once it's open you can't just close it like nothing ever happened."

"Wow, that was really deep, Dean," Sam's voice came from the doorway to their room. "Are you feelin' okay?"

"Bite me. And my health is just as good as ever, thanks."

Sam grinned briefly, but his face fell into guilt and sadness when he looked at Aly, who was now packing Dean's stuff.

"Hi, Sam," she said.

"Hey, Alyson."

Of the two, Alyson sounded the most normal. She didn't really sound much different from before yesterday had happened. Yes, she'd been hurt, but she knew Sam hadn't been Sam when he'd hurt her. Alyson seemed to have processed that already.

Sam hadn't. Sam could barely look Aly full in the face for more than five seconds without seeming as if he wanted to cry or beg for forgiveness – or both.

"Dean is right. You need to make sure you're ready."

Alyson did pause then, and she sent a genuine but small smile Sam's way. "Thanks. I will."

Sam began to walk away, but before he could get more than a few feet away Alyson went to him and grabbed his arm.

"Sam, you don't have to go."

"Yeah?" Sam sounded cautiously hopeful. "'Cause I was thinkin' you and Dean should do this one without me."

Dean tensed. No way was he going to let Sam isolate himself because he felt guilty. Dean didn't have to say or do anything because Alyson took care of it.

"Don't be stupid. You're a part of this, Sam. Things wouldn't be the same without you."

Dean was suddenly reminded of why he loved Aly the way he did. She had been tortured the day before and should've been a mess, yet here she was comforting Sam.

She was strong and kind and good, and he really didn't deserve her. He didn't know why, but she had chosen him and he would stay hers as long as she would have him.

"Come on," Alyson said and dragged Sam into the room. "Stay a while."

Sam was smiling his not-quite-sad-yet-not-happy smile as he seated himself on the bed.

"So much for you guys sticking around, huh?" Bobby asked once Alyson and the Winchesters had brought their bags downstairs.

"Yeah," Alyson said. "You could always come with us."

He was part of her life too. He'd opened his house to her; it was the closest thing she had to a home now. He had every right to know everything she might learn on this trip.

Bobby seemed happy, surprised, and touched that she had thought to include him. He still didn't agree to go, however.

"I don't need to. I know you'll let me know if you find something out."

"Definitely."

From Bobby's they headed straight for Indiana. They planned on stopping midway because they still needed to get the place and time from Jack.

Dean's shoulder was still hurt, so Sam was doing the driving, which was okay aside from the fact that Sam was torturing Dean with non-classic rock music. Dean complained, but Sam had reminded him that 'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.'

With as much as Dean seemed to hate the music, Alyson was surprised that his ears weren't bleeding.

They stopped for the night in Springfield, Illinois, at a motel called The King's Lair. The room had a kitchen built in, so instead of going out to get fast food they bought a few things that wouldn't spoil and Alyson cooked a light meal.

The three were sharing a room because Alyson had requested it. Sam had offered to get a different room, but Alyson had told him he didn't have to. They had shared a room before and they were traveling together. Things didn't have to change between them because of what had happened, not if they didn't let them.

Alyson woke up at six the next morning. She'd been starting to have a nightmare, but she hadn't really gotten into it, she was glad to say.

Neither brother was up yet, so Alyson took a shower. The guys were still asleep when she was done so she quietly left the room, taking the car keys with her. She didn't feel like cooking, so she was planning on going to a diner.

She knew Dean would probably wonder why she hadn't woken him up to go with her, but she didn't feel the need to. She wouldn't be gone long.

Once outside she realized how cold it was. She went back in the room and grabbed the leather jacket that had once been Dean's. She'd taken it over months ago.

She also left a note on the motel stationary telling Dean she'd be back in an hour or so. She left it in the bathroom since that was the first place Sam or Dean would go once they woke up.

At the diner Alyson ordered three to-go plates of a breakfast sampler that had a little bit of everything one might want for breakfast. As she was standing in line two people started talking about something semi-interesting, so Alyson listened in.

A college professor had fallen headfirst out of his office window. The guy's skull had cracked open. One of the janitors from the school had found him. A few people had seen a girl go into the professor's office, but no one had seen her leave.

One of the people said the professor's name. He was supposedly a famous author, but Alyson had never heard of him.

She assumed the people behind her were students, one a male and the other a female. The guy was wearing a sports jacket and the girl was all primped up.

"You guys go to the school where it happened?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I'm a reporter passing through town. My name is Molly Singer." The lie came smoothly even though she hated lying. "Do you think maybe I could interview you for this? It sounds like a promising story."

They both seemed to be okay with it. Alyson thought it was because they seemed to be the type to like to talk just to hear the sounds of their own voices.

"My name's Curtis. This is Jen. We were supposed to be having his Ethics and Morality class this morning, but that won't be happening, huh?"

"Nope, guess not." Alyson plastered on a smile that she hoped didn't appear too fake. "So . . . Why do you think he did it?"

"Nobody knows," Jen said. "He was tenured, wife and kids. His book was, like, a really big deal. Then again, who's to say it was suicide?"

Curtis rolled his eyes.

"Well, you know about Crawford Hall."

"It's a bunch of crap," Curtis said, his gaze on Alyson. "It's a total urban legend. And, hey, don't you need a tape recorder or a notepad or something?"

"No, I have a good memory." Alyson looked at Jen. "You were saying? I love urban legends."

"Like, thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor. He broke it off, and she jumped out of the window and killed herself."

"Know the name?"

Alyson paid for her order as the food came up, only vaguely paying attention to the two students now. The story she'd heard made no sense.

"They say she jumped from room 669." Jen's eyes were wide, showing that she at least believed it. "You turn the nine upside down . . ."

"And you get a six. Right."

"Right. So now she haunts the building, and anyone who sees her . . . they don't live to tell the tale."

Curtis laughed. "Well, if no one lives to tell the tale, then how does the tale get told?"

He had a point, but Alyson knew that a lot of urban legends had a thread of truth to them and had started somewhere.

"Thanks," Alyson said.

When she got her receipt, she got them to write down their contact information, just in case. She decided to swing by the college campus before heading back to the motel. She had left a note and if Dean started to worry, he could always call.

At the campus, Alyson went straight to the dead professor's office. His name had been Arthur Cox; she'd found a campus newspaper article up on one of the boards she'd passed by on the way.

Someone was already in the office when Alyson arrived. A woman was going through the desk drawers – maybe it was someone who was supposed to be removing everything.

"Um, excuse me," Alyson said.

The woman responded by looking up. "Yes? Do I know you?"

"No."

The woman, now that she'd spoken, seemed to be someone in a leadership role. She sounded like she had at least a little bit of authority.

"Look, I'm sorry, but three other girls have come to me this morning, and they loved him just as much as I'm sure you do, but people die. That's what we're here for."

"Sorry I bothered you," Alyson muttered, not knowing how to respond to such outward hostility.

The woman sighed. "I heard that, and I'm sorry. It's just . . . he was a good teacher, but he wasn't the best of men."

"He taught Ethics and Morality."

"It recently came to my attention that he had sexual relations with a lot of his female students. If he hadn't died, I would've had to fire him. Tenure goes out the window when something like that happens."

"Out the window?" Alyson said. "Poor choice of words."

"No pun intended I assure you."

Alyson didn't stay much longer; she'd found out all she needed to know.

Outside in the parking lot Alyson became overwhelmed by something. She wasn't hurt, but whatever she was feeling was powerful. It didn't feel evil, but it wasn't good either; it just was. She almost fell to her knees. She'd never felt anything like it. Nothing had ever been strong enough by sense alone that it had knocked her off of her feet.

She had to lean against the Impala to keep from falling over. She didn't know who or what was causing it, but there were only a few people around – a couple of students, a security guard, and a janitor. The janitor was closest, and he was looking at her curiously.

She actually fell flat on her butt, and the janitor came to her aid.

"You okay there? You're lookin' kinda lightheaded."

Alyson didn't really respond other than to shake her head.

"You a student here?"

"No. I heard about what happened. Was interested."

"The professor's death."

"Yeah."

Alyson didn't know why she'd spoken the truth just then, but she didn't feel the need to lie at the moment. She'd probably never see this guy again anyway.

"I'm the one who found him. I saw him go up to his office, and he wasn't alone. He was with a girl. I told the cops about it, but I guess they never found her."

"Did you know her?"

"Not her. I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy, but Mister Morality? He took a lot of girls up there."

"Hm. And there's no room 669, right?"

"Nope. There're only four floors. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. It's just something I heard."

Alyson got up and got in the car. She hoped she didn't wreck on the way back to the motel.

By the time Alyson got back to the room Dean was frantic. He'd woken up around six, the same time she had, but he'd gone back to sleep when she'd gotten in the shower. He hadn't known she was going to leave. She'd been gone for almost three hours. Now she was back, a plastic bag full of take-out in her arms.

Dean who had been in the middle of calling her for what had to be the fiftieth time in the past hour, snapped his phone shut. He clenched his jaw against the need to yell at her for making him worry. Why hadn't she told him she was leaving?

If he hadn't been so angry, he would've noticed that Alyson's skin was a little paler than normal and he would've asked what had happened. As it was, he just wanted to know where she'd been. It didn't take three hours to pick up food from a restaurant.

"I left a note," she said when he asked where she'd been.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did," she argued as she put the bag of food on the table. "I left it in the bathroom. It's the first place you go when you wake up."

"It's not there."

Both he and Sam had been to the bathroom. No note had been found.

"Well, I left it there. Why didn't you just call?"

"I did, but you didn't answer."

Alyson made a face. "Nobody called me."

She went through her purse then and made another face. "My phone's gone. I couldn't have dropped it. Are you sure it's not here and on silent?"

"I haven't seen it," Dean said, calming down. Alyson losing her phone wasn't her fault. He didn't know about the note.

"Are you mad at me? All I planned on doing was going out to buy food."

Dean knew she liked doing that every now and then so that they wouldn't have to use fake credit cards.

"You were gone for a long time . . ."

"I talked to a few people about a professor that died recently. He supposedly jumped out of a fourth-story window, cracked his skull open. They say it was suicide, but I'm not so sure. Witnesses saw a girl go up with him, but no one saw her leave."

"So it was murder. Not our type of thing." Dean shrugged. "Besides, no one saw her leave because they were probably too caught up noticing the dead guy."

Alyson was already shaking her head before he'd even finished.

"I went to the campus where he died. There was something there. I don't know what it was, but it was powerful. It made my radar go on sensory overload."

Dean blinked a few times, taking in what she'd said. She'd checked out a possible case by herself? What if she'd gotten in trouble? No one would've known where she'd been or what she'd been doing. Someone could've taken her and Dean wouldn't have even known where to start.

"I don't like it," he said firmly. She seemed confused at his statement, so he clarified. "You goin' out doin' all this stuff by yourself. You could get hurt."

"What was I supposed to do? Ask for permission?"

Alyson's tone was harsh and Dean didn't understand why. Usually when he vocally expressed concern for her, she would soften up at least a little. This time he'd hit a nerve, one he hadn't known she had.

"Considering what happened the last time you were away from me . . ." he started but stopped before he really put his foot in his mouth.

"I can't believe you'd bring that up. That has nothing to do with this." Alyson sighed, letting some of the tension out of her body. "Dean, you can't keep an eye on me 24/7, you know that."

That was the problem. He couldn't keep her safe all the time. They led dangerous lives. He could die at any time – she could die at any time. Any hunter could. Actually, that was just life whether one was a hunter or not, and he couldn't believe they were arguing about this.

They'd never really argued before, not seriously.

"Every time you leave my sight you get hurt."

"Okay, that's an exaggeration. I'm here, in one piece. Okay? And I'm all healed up from last time."

That much was true. She'd woken up the day after, wrist healed, the wound on her stomach just a scratch. Still, just because she healed fast didn't meant she could be careless with herself.

"Just next time tell me where you're goin'."

Sam came in a few seconds later, relief written all over his face when he saw Aly there. He'd been looking for her for over an hour.

"I found a case," she said. "Maybe."

She retold the story she'd told Dean, this time adding the part about her falling on her butt. That was one reason Dean didn't want her doing case stuff on her own. No one knew how she'd react to something until she actually felt it.

"You don't know what you felt?" Sam asked.

"No. I mean, it was weird. It didn't feel like a ghost or a demon."

"Okay. Well, I'll do a search for anybody who may have killed themselves on campus."

"What food did you get?" Dean asked, not wanting to encourage Alyson's sudden independent streak.

"Uh, breakfast platters. They're cold now, but we can reheat them."

Sam sat down at the table with his computer and opened it up. He looked at Dean. "Were you on my computer."

"No."

"Dean, it's frozen on . Would you just . . . don't touch my stuff anymore, okay?"

"Why don't you control your OCD?"

"Take the modem out of the bottom and your computer will be fine," Alyson said.

She asked Dean for his phone so she could call Jack and then she went into the bathroom.

Dean assumed that meant she wanted privacy.

"Did you talk to that guy yet?" Alyson asked almost as soon as Jack had picked up.

"Yes, I did, actually. I'm on my way there."

"Oh okay. We're working a case right now, but we'll be there as soon as we can."

"Hm. I thought this would be top priority for you."

"Well, it was." Alyson smiled slightly. "But it's amazing how your priorities shift once you find out someone has died."

She realized Jack would have no idea what she was talking about, so she told the story yet again. Even he didn't seem to like that she'd gone off alone. Why did everyone seem to think she needed a babysitter all of a sudden?

A door slammed in the other room, which meant one of the guys had stormed out. Probably Sam; Dean wouldn't have wanted to leave her alone so soon after finding out she was safe.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked. "Out of the past three times I've spoken to you, you've been upset twice. Your . . . your voice is kind of tight when there's something wrong."

She didn't know how to take the fact that Jack knew the nuances of her voice.

"Just an argument. No biggie."

Now that she was in the bathroom herself, she realized that her note was nowhere to be found.

"Couples argue," Jack said. "It's normal. Try to talk it out without arguing."

Alyson knew he was right, though she didn't want to admit it out loud.

"I guess I should go do that. I'll call you later.

When Alyson came out of the bathroom, she found Dean munching on food from one of the plates she'd brought back. She handed him his phone and his keys. She wondered if he was mad that she'd taken his car without permission.

"Dean, can we talk?"

"Depends. Are we just gonna argue again?"

She felt her hackles rise even as tears filled her eyes. She hadn't wanted to argue in the first place, and she didn't want to argue now, so she took a deep breath and sat on her bed.

"I know you only got mad because you were worried. But Dean, I did leave a note, so I don't know why it wasn't there when you looked or why it's not there now. And I don't know where my phone is. That's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you, you know that."

Dean, who had been seated at the table, got up and walked over to her, leaving his food behind. He sat beside her and looked at her cautiously, as if he didn't know whether or not he was forgiven.

"Why do you feel the sudden need to do things on your own?" he asked softly.

"I don't," she said. "I just . . . I happened to be out and heard about the case, so I checked it out."

"You've never done that before and, Aly, you came across something that literally made you fall down without even touching you."

"I know, but you can't not let me out of your sight ever. I promise to not ever not let you know if I'm going somewhere and I promise to ask for your permission from now on if I want to borrow the car."

Dean grinned then. "That's another thing. You know you shouldn't touch my car."

She shrugged. "You know I'd never hurt her."