AUTHOR'S NOTE: Happy Friday, all! As promised, here's the next chapter!

Just a heads up: I have deleted the sequel, "Winchester, Interrupted" from my page, because it won't make sense with all the changes I'm making with this re-write. Rest assured that when we reach the end of this fic, there will most likely be a sequel!

Ponygirlrunner25, Redheadlass, sueturpen, sjwmaw, luvreading67t, MariaKata, wandamarie, tamilyn313, EmilyannMcGarrett-Winchester, Walkersgirl, Stormysea-breaks, Sansan92, Franki3W, PadaleckiFan496, CrzedPanda, Tumblr-Tidbits, Beach200, AgentOstrovich, MarryzinhaBlack, beckini, and guests, THANK YOU for taking time to leave reviews!

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"What's got you so excited?" Dean asked as he pulled away from the curb. He had picked me up from school as usual.

"What do you mean?" I tried to appear innocent.

"Oh, come on, you're practically beaming. What's going on?"

"Okay, I'll tell you." I was unable to hide my excitement any longer. "Jenny asked me if I wanted to spend the night at her house this Friday, and we're going to go to the football game and meet Haley and some other people there...d'you think Dad'll let me go?" She and I had talked about everything in more detail during school and made plans with our other friends to meet up. Haley had promised to do my hair and makeup before the party.

"Uh, I don't know, kiddo." Dean said hesitantly.

"But why wouldn't he? It means that I'll be out of your hair and you guys won't have to deal with taking care of me."

"Wait, what?" Dean looked over at me with a frown. "What are you talking about?"

I stared down at my hands, playing with the zipper of my jacket. "Well, you know...Dad always acts like everything is interrupting him concentrating on research and stuff."

"Aly…" Dean shook his head. "That's really what you think we're thinking? That you're a bother and we can't wait to get rid of you?"

My face got hot. "Uh...well...kinda…"

"Man, you really need to-" He slapped the steering wheel. "Family is the most important thing to all of us, and it always has been."

He seemed angry, and I wasn't sure why. "Yeah, all those times that you guys dumped me at Uncle Bobby's or Pastor Jim or other people, family was sooo important." I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, what'd I tell you about the eye-rolling?" He snapped. "I know it doesn't seem that way because of us going out hunting, but we always loved coming back and being with you, all of us being together. You obviously don't remember when you were little, how Dad always took us out for pizza when he'd get back from a hunt, how he'd make sure to spend time with you because you missed him so much? How me and Sam took care of you when he was gone, we read to you at bedtime and played with you?"

A memory popped up, of all of us sitting on the sofa after Dad had come back from a hunt, me snuggled in Dad's lap at first, a brother on either side of me, and then each of them taking turns tickling me. I remembered feeling loved and cared for by all of them.

I smiled without realizing it. "Okay, yeah."

"We still feel the same way, Aly." He said softly. We were in front of the house now, and he put the car in park. He turned to me, putting his arm up on the back of the seat. "You're still my little sister and I'm still gonna take care of you." He reached out and pulled a strand of my hair.

"Okay, Dean."

He smiled at me, and I smiled back at him. An image came into my head just then, from the dream I'd had, Dean on the dirt floor, his hand on his shoulder, pain etched across his face.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing." I rubbed my eyes and then leaned down to grab my backpack, pushing down the worry that I should have told them about the dream.

~ ~ spn ~ ~

When I went to find Dad, he was in his bedroom, staring at two maps that he had pinned to the wall. There were red and blue Xs marking certain areas, and a series of yellow sticky notes on other spots. He was looking at his journal and muttering to himself.

I opened my backpack and pulled out a paper. "Hey, Dad, I got a permission slip for the choir trip to the school next week. And can I spend the night at Jenny's this Friday, there's a football game and we want to go. Can I?"

He glanced up at the wall and then back at his journal, then he seemed to realize I was standing there, and he looked over at me. "What?"

I held up the paper, trying not to appear annoyed. "Permission slip for school. Can I spend the night at a friend's house and go to the football game. Please."

He took the paper and glanced at it. "I'm still thinking about this." He handed it back. "I don't want you going anywhere this weekend."

I shoved the permission slip back into my backpack. "Why not?"

He was looking at the map again. "Because I said so." He stepped forward and added another sticky note to the right hand map.

I folded my arms. "I think I have a right to know."

After a long moment, he turned to me with a frown. "Excuse me?"

"I have a right to know the reason you're telling me I can't go!" I exclaimed.

He shut his journal with a snap. "Alyson, things are happening."

I shifted. "What things?"

"I'm working on a hunt right now."

"You're always working on a hunt!" I snapped.

He huffed. "Yes, and it's in the area, that means it's not a good time for you to go traipsing off into a huge crowd of people."

"Aww, but can't I spend the night at least? We'll stay at Jenny's house, we don't have to go to the game!" I protested.

He shook his head. "I already said no."

I stomped my foot. "But why?"

"Enough, Alyson."

"Dad!"

"I said ENOUGH!" He snapped. "I'm in the middle of something here, and I'm done arguing!"

"It's not fair!" I spun on my heel and stormed out of the room, past my brothers, who had come to the door and were watching us.

I heard Dean say, "Hey, Dad-" before I shut my door.

A moment later there was a knock.

"What?" I tossed my backpack on my bed.

The door opened and Sam stuck his head in. "I'm not here to yell or be yelled at, I just wanted to commiserate. Can I come in?"

I sighed. "Sure."

He pushed the door open and came in, standing by the end of the bed. "Listen, I know how frustrating it is when you want to do school stuff and he won't let you. But I've come to realize that he's not doing it just to be a hard-ass, he's doing it to protect us."

"From what?" I snapped. "He never explains anything, it's always 'because I said so'!" I clenched my fists.

"Yeah, I know…" Sam sighed, and came over to me. He put his hand on my shoulders and leaned down to look in my eyes earnestly. "It's because-well probably because he still thinks of you as a little kid, I mean, we all do-"

"Gee, thanks, Sam!" I said bitterly.

"No, that's not what I meant. We still see you as this-this vulnerable child who needs to be protected from all the bad things out there, and it's hard to get out of that mindset. And remember, you were really scared of anything that had to do with hunting when you were younger, too, so we tried not to talk about it around you." He touched my cheek and smiled. "I'll talk to Dad about letting you in on some of what's going on, okay?"

I huffed. "Okay."

He put his hands down and straightened up. "Although it would help us if you didn't do things like stomp your foot and throw little tantrums."

"I didn't throw a tantrum!" I was offended.

"Well, you came awful close." He gave me a look. "You've got to convince Dad that you can handle anything he tells you, and he's not going to share anything if he still feels like you're a little kid."

"Okay, I get it." I sat down. "Sorry I snapped at you last night."

"Thanks for apologizing." He smiled again. "I'm always proud of you no matter what grades you get, I know how hard you work."

"Thanks, Sammy." I smiled back at him.

"Dinner!" Dean hollered down the hallway.

"We better get out there while it's hot." Sam said.

I followed him out to the kitchen, where Dean was setting a glass baking dish in the middle of the table.

"What is that?" I asked.

"It's a chicken noodle casserole, I looked it up online." He said proudly. "Chicken breasts, cooked egg noodles, frozen veggies, and a couple cans of cream of chicken soup with some other stuff added."

"Sounds...interesting." Sam said.

I sat down at my place as Dean got out the milk and poured a glass for me. Sam sat next to me and scooped some of the casserole onto his plate, and then served me some.

Dean went to the door of the kitchen. "Dad? Hey, Dad!" He called. "Lemme go make sure he heard me." He muttered, and left the room. In a couple minutes he was back. He went to the fridge and got out a bottle of beer, and then served a portion of casserole onto a plate and picked it up, adding a fork. "Dad's having a working dinner." He told us as he left the room again.

Sam shook his head as he dug into the concoction. He frowned as he chewed.

"How is it?" I asked cautiously.

"It's-it's good. Kinda tastes like a deconstructed pot pie."

I ate a forkful of the chicken and sauce. It was surprisingly tasty.

Dean came back into the kitchen and sat down. Seeing us both chewing, he asked, "Well, what do you think? How is it?"

"Pretty good, Dean." Sam said.

"Yeah, I'm impressed." I added.

"Well, gee, you don't have to act like it's a surprise that I actually made something that's edible." Dean said sarcastically. "Who's the one who made like a hundred and one variations of mac and cheese for you two over the years?" He pointed at himself with his thumb. "This guy."

"You're right." I smiled at him. "It is good, Dean. Thanks."

He grinned at me. "That's what I like to hear!"

We ate in silence for a few minutes. Then Sam looked over at me. "How's school going? Any tests you need to study for or papers you need help with?"

I shook my head as I swallowed a mouthful of noodles. "No, but there is something you can help me with."

Dean raised his eyebrows as he forked up some chicken.

I blurted out, "I really want to go to the football game this Friday night, all my friends are going and Jenny invited me to sleep over at her house too and I really really want to go but Dad said no…" my rambling slowed. "Can you talk to him and convince him to let me go?" I tilted my head and gave them serious puppy dog eyes. "Pleeeeease?"

My brothers glanced at each other. "Well, Aly, I don't know…" Dean said hesitantly. "I mean, once he's made up his mind…"

I sat back with a huff. "Yeah, he's being a dick."

"Hey!" Dean reached over and cuffed the side of my head. "Watch your mouth!"

"Ow!" I scowled at him. "It's the truth!"

He leaned toward me, his brows pulled down in a frown. "You do not talk about him that way, you got me? He is your father and you will show him respect!" He growled.

I opened my mouth and he pointed at me. "Anything else comes outta your mouth besides 'sorry' and you're going over my knee!"

I gulped. "Okay, okay, sor-ry!"

Dean sat up. "Finish your dinner, go to your room and stay there the rest of the night."

"Dean-"

"Alyson. Do not argue with me." His tone brooked no discussion.

I sighed and tried to eat some more, but my appetite was gone and my stomach was twisting with nerves now. When Dean got like that it was intimidating.

I finished my milk and then picked up my plate. I carried it over to the trashcan and scraped the rest of my food off, and then set the plate and my utensils and glass into the sink. Then I turned and left the room without saying anything to them.

No one came to check on me or say good night. I finished my homework and when I went to put everything in my backpack I realized that I still had my cell phone. I pulled it out and texted Jenny, "Looks like it's a no for this weekend."

She texted back, "Game and sleepover?"

I replied, "Yeah, my Dad's being a butt about it."

She texted a frowny face and then "See you tomorrow."

I texted back, "Yeah, see you."

I turned off my phone and put it back into the outer pocket, then got ready for bed. I could hear the TV on in the living room but I didn't feel like getting possibly scolded again if I went out there, so I just went to bed.

~ ~ spn ~ ~

I woke up suddenly to noise-a shout? A moan? I sat up and listened.

I got out of bed and ran to the door, opening it and stepping into the hallway. I heard a voice say, "No, no!" It was Sam, and it was coming from his room.

Dean passed me in the hallway, and I followed him.

Sam was sitting up in bed, hunched over, his head in his hands.

Dean reached him first. "Hey, Sam? You awake? Sammy?" He put his hand on Sam's shoulder, and Sam flinched and raised his head.

I walked closer to the bed. Sam's eyes were squinted and he was staring into the distance. "He-he's gonna-no!"

Dean sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hands on Sam's shoulders. "Sam-hey, Sam, wake up. You're dreaming, buddy, c'mon, wake up now."

Sam cried out, turning his head to the side and hunching his shoulders. He covered his eyes with his hand. "No, no, don't-!" He moaned.

"Sam?" Dean asked.

"Is he having a nightmare?" Dad asked.

We turned to see him standing in the doorway. He came over to the side of the bed. "Hey, Sammy, you awake? We're all here with you." Dad said encouragingly.

Sam's whole body startled, and he moaned, and then straightened up, putting his hands down. He looked at Dean, and then over at me, and then up at Dad. "We need to find him." He said beseechingly. "We need to find him before he dies, I saw it-I saw how it's gonna happen, we gotta save him-"

Dean clutched Sam's shoulders. "Hey, hey, it was just a bad dream, okay?"

Sam looked at him, tears filling his eyes. "No, I- I saw it! You gotta believe me!" His breathing was shallow. He put his hand on the side of his head and grimaced. "My head-"

Dad stepped forward and put his palm on Sam's forehead. "All right, Sammy." He turned to me. "Go get a glass of water and some ibuprofen."

"Yessir." I wanted to stay and hear what they were talking about, but I also wanted to help Sam-I knew how much migraines hurt.

I found the bottle of ibuprofen in the kitchen cabinet right next to a bottle of Dewar's, and grabbed it. I filled a glass with ice and water and then carried it and the medicine bottle to Sam's room.

Dad was standing near the head of the bed now, leaning down and talking quietly to Sam.

"Here's the medicine and water." I announced.

Dad stood up and turned. Sam looked up at me. His eyes looked sad and haunted.

I walked over and handed him the water. Dad took the bottle from me.

"Thanks, Aly." Sam said gratefully. He drank the water in huge gulps.

"Slow down, you need to save some for the medicine." Dad shook out a few pills and handed them to him.

Sam tossed the pills into his mouth and downed the rest of the water. He handed Dad the glass. "Thanks. You can go back to bed, I'm fine now."

"You don't look fine, Sammy." Dean said.

Dad looked at Dean and me. "Go on, I'll stay with him."

"You sure?" Dean asked.

Dad nodded. "Go back to bed."

"Feel better, Sam." I said.

I went to my room, worried about Sam and disturbed by what he had been saying. Had he had a nightmare about someone dying? Was it an old hunt he had been on? Why would that come up now? I had so many questions. I wondered if Dean would talk to me if I asked him about it…

~ ~ spn ~ ~

Dean seemed tense when he picked me up from school the next day. "I wanna get back home ASAP." He told me. "Sam's on a tear, seems to think that his nightmare was real, that some guy's gonna buy it." He shook his head.

I thought back to the dream I had had where I had seen Dean get hurt. "Well, uh-sometimes-sometimes the dreams you have when you have a migraine can seem really real." I wasn't sure if they would have believed me if I had told them of my dream. Psychic abilities were usually derided by hunters.

"Well, he wants to run off to try and find this guy."

"Do you think Dad will let him?"

He sighed. "I dunno. But I want to try and head off any trouble at the pass, you know how they can get."

Sam hadn't argued with Dad in a long time. When he was a teenager, he and Dad butted heads on the regular. Ever since Sam had come back from college, though, he'd made a concerted effort to get along with Dad and not fly off the handle like he used to.

The air was thick with tension when we walked into the living room. Sam was standing by the sofa, holding his laptop. His face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, the way he usually looked after he'd had a migraine. "-think it's worth it to go check out."

Dad was on the sofa, his journal in front of him. "And I already told you, we need to be concentrating on what's happening in the area right now. You don't even know if the person you saw in your dream is real."

Sam's jaw twitched. "Well, I'm going to go." He looked over at Dean. "Hey man, can I borrow your car?"

Dean looked uncomfortable. "Uh-well-"

"Sam, I don't want you doing this." Dad said in a stern voice. "It's going to be a waste of time."

Sam huffed. "You don't know that!"

"Why don't you just chill for a couple days, Sam? You know you always get more emotional after a migraine." Dean said. "Give yourself a chance to clear your head out all the way."

"My head is fine, Dean!" Sam yelled, stomping towards the hallway. He brushed past me without saying anything.

When we heard the bedroom door close, Dean raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh. "Glad that didn't go any further."

"I want you to try and keep him focused, Dean." Dad said. "He can't be going off on a wild goose chase like this." He looked over at me, seemingly just registering that I was there. "Alyson. Uh...how was school?"

"Okay." I got out my cell phone, walked over to him, and handed it to him. He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but he didn't.

"It's your turn to make dinner tonight, Aly, what've you got planned?" Dean asked.

"If that ground beef is still good, I can make meatloaf." I said.

"That would be great!" Dean's eyes gleamed enthusiastically. "Just, no needing stitches this time, huh?"

I went into the kitchen to start dinner. The ground beef looked fine, so I started pulling ingredients out. After I put the meatloaf into the oven, I went to my room to do my homework.

Eventually I heard Dean calling, "Aly, the timer's going off!" and I went back to the kitchen.

Dean had already set the table. I got out the leftover bagged salad from the other night and set it in the middle of everything, then I pulled the meatloaf out of the oven. "Can you go tell them that dinner's ready?" I asked Dean.

A minute or so later, he was back with Dad in tow. Sam joined us a few minutes after that. He pulled out a chair and looked at us as he sat down. "I remembered the name of the bus that I saw in the dream. I called Ash and he looked it up, there is a real bus line of that name in Indiana. He told me how to hack into the database of street cameras and I think I found the cross street that I saw in my dream. So it's real. And that means that the guy is real too."

"Well, maybe." Dean shrugged. "But you saw him die, so what's the point in looking for him?"

Sam glared at him. "That's supposed to make me feel better?"

"Just because you dreamed about a bus, or a street, doesn't mean that the whole thing was real. It could've been a street that we drove through when we were younger. Sometimes a dream is just a dream." Dean said.

"Maybe." Sam said. "I still want to keep looking into it."

"As long as it doesn't interfere with your research." Dad said. "If it does, I'm shutting you down."

Sam didn't say anything, just tightened his mouth. He didn't say much during the rest of dinner, and he ate quickly and left the table as soon as he finished eating.

Dean stretched and scratched his stomach. "Man, I want to keep eating, this meatloaf is fantastic, but I'm full."

"Yeah, you did a great job with the meatloaf, Aly." Dad smiled at me.

"Thanks." I said.

He put his hand on mine. "I think you got your mother's talent for cooking- I certainly don't have a knack for it-and it reminds me of her. I really appreciate you cooking for us." His eyes got a faraway look in them for a moment.

"Oh. Uh, thanks." I wasn't sure what else to say. The rare times that Dad talked about Mom and got a melancholy look on his face would make me feel odd. My Dad and brothers would get sad when they talked about her because they missed her, and I wanted to feel like they did, but I didn't remember her at all. My sadness came from never having known her, and it was different from theirs.

Dean reached over to get another slice of meatloaf, and Dad tapped the back of his hand. "Leave it, that way we can have sandwiches later."

"All right, all right." Dean griped.

After everything was cleared away, I went to find Sam. He was in his bedroom, sitting at the head of his bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his laptop on his lap.

I walked over to the bed and sat down on the end. "Hey, I just wanted to tell you...I believe you about the dream."

He was in the middle of typing something. "Thanks."

"Have you ever...have you ever had a dream like that before, like, that came true?"

He stopped typing and looked at me. "Uh...well...not really."

"'Not really'? Seems like that's a yes or no question."

He sighed. "Well…" He closed his laptop and leaned forward, gazing at me intensely. "You can't tell anyone." He said quietly. "I used to-I mean, a couple times when I was younger, I did have dreams about-like, just little things, like dreaming that I was going to win an award in school. That's all. I mean, it could've just been a coincidence, you know."

"Sounds like you've convinced yourself it wasn't real."

He shrugged. "Could've been like wish fulfillment kinda... I was good at school and of course I was going to win awards."

"Gee, you're so modest!" I joked. "But seriously, those are the only dreams like that you've had?" I wondered what he would think if I told him about the dream that I had had about Dean. I tried to muster my courage to say something.

"Yeah, I mean, this recent dream is the first time that I dreamed about someone else. Why?" He looked at me closely.

I lost my nerve just then. "What made you think it was real?"

He looked down at his laptop. "I dunno, it was- the details in the dream and all were so vivid. It was like I was there in this guy's life, watching, you know?"

"Yeah." I agreed. "Sometimes I have vivid dreams too."

He sat back. "Don't-don't talk about it around Dad or Dean, okay? They don't- they're not really into the idea that having dreams that come true is real, and I just don't want to keep arguing about it and all."

"Okay, Sam."

He smiled at me. "Thanks for believing me, Alybug."

"You're welcome, Sam." I smiled back at him.

~ ~ spn ~ ~

I brought my backpack into the living room and set it by the door for the morning. Dad came over to me. "Let me see your hand."

"Which one?"

"The one with the stitches."

I held my hand out, and he took it and looked at it. "I think these can come out tonight. You've been taking the antibiotics?"

"Yessir. Uh-do we have to do this now?" I asked weakly.

"What's the problem?"

"I just-" I shifted- medical stuff made me uncomfortable.

"Let's get it done." He dropped my hand and began to walk to the kitchen. When I didn't follow, he stopped and turned to me. "Come on." He said impatiently.

I sighed and followed him, glancing at Dean as I walked past him.

Dad was opening up the med kit on the counter. Dean came into the room, and Dad glanced at him. "What do you need?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to be with Aly while she gets her stitches out." Dean came over to stand by me.

"She's not a child, Dean." Dad poured alcohol over the bandage scissors.

"Well, I am nervous, ya know." I folded my arms over my chest.

Dad came over to the table, setting a towel down. He looked at me and his face softened. "It's not going to hurt." He squeezed my shoulder, giving me a quick smile. "It'll be over in a few seconds. Sit down and put your hand on the towel."

I sat down, placing my hand in the middle of the towel. Dean came to stand next to me, putting his hand on my back.

Dad picked up the tweezers and the scissors, and I closed my eyes and turned my head away- I did not want to watch this! I felt someone take my other hand and squeeze it. I felt a pulling sensation in my skin and heard the snip of the scissors, then more pulling and another snip, and another.

"There, it's done." Dad said.

Dean patted my back. "Good job, Aly."

I opened my eyes, letting go of Dean, and looked at the skin. The stitches were gone and there was a thin red scar on my hand.

"Uh-good job staying still." Dad leaned down to cup the back of my head and pulled me forward to kiss my forehead. "I'm glad you're healed up, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Dad." I smiled at him.

He walked over to the counter. "I've got some salve you can rub on the scar, it will help it fade a little."

"It's okay, it's not really noticeable." I said.

I went to take a shower and get ready for bed. When I went to say good night, all three of them were busy looking through books or reading on their laptops, so I got three quick, distracted hugs. At least I had gotten hugs tonight, I told myself. I was glad they were home, even if they were distracted.