A/N I think I've finally gotten over my writer's block...no promises. I mean I finished this chapter and the companion chapter for LINF so progress. A lot of important stuff happens in this chapter that will later be really relevant later so I'm sorry if this drags a little. It's a necessary evil. Thank you to everyone who sent me prompts as part of my birthday gift to you guys, I hope you guys liked your one-shots. And I know it took a while but I got through all of them and the winner of the event was DoveXTown! His prompt was my favorite and I can easily fit this into the story so congrats! I'm not sure exactly when the chapter will appear but I'll send you an email when it will. If anyone else didn't get to submit a prompt or one-shot idea I'm thinking of doing a Halloween event as well. Leave a review if its something you guys would like to do again! Also thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist!

Ch. 9

Life Is No Fairy Tale

"Don't judge the path I choose to take if you haven't walked the journey I had to make." —Unknown

I paced around the room nervously, jumping at every sound I heard come from outside the motel. I had called the voice about half an hour ago, and he had yet to appear. What was taking him so long?

Just as I was about to give up on him showing up at all, there was a short tap on the door. I froze for a moment before moving slowly towards it. I glanced through the eye hole and cocked my head. Huh, this was him.

He had carefully combed brown hair, not a single one out of place, and parted to one side. His chin and jaw were darkened with a couple of days growth, and his eyes were bright blue, almost unnaturally so, and sharp. Everything about his face screamed arrogance and mischief from the slight crookedness of his smirk and the wrinkles around his eyes.

He was wearing a light blue collared shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows, a dark grey waistcoat, and matching grey slacks. He had a brown leather suitcase at his feet.

"Are you going to let me in, or were you waiting for something?" He drawled.

"How do I know you're him?" I asked hesitantly.

"Who else would it be?" The man smiled at me, his face slightly distorted by the fisheye effect of the peephole. I felt a small wave of relief wash over me as I hurriedly unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"You're late," I said flatly.

He waltzed in, and I watched as he hungrily took in his surroundings before turning on his heel to look at me. He was tall, about Dean's height.

"Why are you living in this hovel?" He sneered, and I frowned at him.

"I don't have much choice…" I trailed off as he gave a short laugh. I didn't know what was funny. "Do you have a name?" I asked him.

"Thomas," He smirked. "Thomas Slater. It's good to finally see you." Tom said quietly, the arrogance falling away as he stepped close enough to me that I had to crane my neck to keep eye contact.

I felt the crushing loneliness I usually carried fade a bit as I nodded. "Yeah,"

"Well, shall we get to it then?" He asked me his eyes tracing my features.

"Right now? I have so many questions!"

Thomas tilted his head to one side, "What do you want to know?"

"How- I mean you must- and if you didn't, then why-?"

He smiled again and grabbed my arms right above the elbows, "Hey, take a breath. What do you need to know?"

"How are we... connected. How did you know to look for me?"

His smile faded slightly and an emotion I couldn't quite read flickered across his face, "We were friends once upon a time and...well,"

I frowned at him.

"Well," he continued, "when you made your way back to somewhere I could reach you again I wanted to-"

"Find me." I finished for him.

He nodded.

"So, you're like me."

"Yes."

"And we were friends."

"Are friends, " He corrected and then smirked, "I hope."

A sudden and almost desperate urge to reach out and hold him swept over me but I fought it and clenched my fists at my sides instead.

"Are friends," I repeated, and his smirk graduated into a dazzling smile.

"Any more questions?" He probed lightly.

"Yeah, but they can wait, Lucy can't. I need to know that she's okay. And if she isn't…" I trailed off, "well, if she isn't then maybe I can do something to help."

Slater stepped away, and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding. There was something about him that was intimidating. I didn't know if it was the way he carried himself so confidently or maybe the fact that he knew some if not all of my deepest darkest fears and guilts, all of my shame and self-hatred. He knew it all even if I didn't, and although it frightened me, how intimately he knew me, it was also comforting.

He knew me. I didn't have to hide from him or pretend and that made me feel a freedom and peace I hadn't felt in a very long time.

"Until we reverse whatever you and your mother did, you won't be able to travel anywhere." Slater started to explain, but I stopped him.

"Wait, my mother and I?" I asked confused. "I did this to myself? I helped my mom do this to me?"

Slater's gaze fell to the floor. "You have to understand. There were—are a lot of creatures, beings, that want a piece of you. You were in constant danger at the time, and so were your parents."

Slater ran his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair but still managed to keep every hair in place. "We are windows into alternate realities. There are enough things out there that are content to burn their worlds down and then move on to a new one to start over. And if they figured out how to use us to do that..."

I stared at him.

"That would be bad."

"Why can't you just open up a window for me then?"

Slater's lips thinned, "I wish it were that easy. But for someone to hitch a ride, specific conditions have to be met."

A moment passed and neither of us spoke.

"Why'd I do it?" I asked again. "How could this have been the right decision? Wouldn't knowing what was coming after me be better? What did I even do to provoke this kind of attention?"

Slater grimaced, "I wish I knew. You kind of up and disappeared on me."

Of course I did. The more I learned, the less I liked myself. I was a coward. I'd up and ran the second the going got tough, and I'd left my friends behind while simultaneously dragging my parents with me. When that wasn't enough, I'd conspired with my mother to destroy what was left of my abilities. And to what? Prevent me from going back? Prevent other people from finding me? Or was it just to hide?

"I'm sorry."

Thomas looked sad for a moment but smiled again, "What matters now is that we found each other."

I smiled back at him, and he nodded.

"Okay, well. The best we can do right now is make contact with your friend. When you transported her," Slater stood up and opened the briefcase before pulling out a strange metal bowl, several corked vials, and an obsidian dagger. "You would have used some of your grace to kickstart it."

He flipped the dagger in his hand and held it out to me handle first. "I have a spell that will give you a momentary connection between you and her. And it requires some blood."

I took the knife hesitantly. It was much heavier than I anticipated but I wasn't afraid. I was almost excited about the pain I was about to experience. Somewhere deep down I knew that it would be something I deserved, the first of many punishments to atone for my sins.

Slater nodded, and I squeezed the blade in my fist before pulling away sharply.

"Ah!" I hissed and bit back the tears of shock and pain that rushed to my eyes. I blinked them away quickly and opened my palm letting the blood flow into the bowl.

Slater's eyes narrowed for a moment while he watched me, but the look dissipated quickly before I could understand what it meant.

"Okay, now a bit of this…" He crushed up some leaves and sprinkled them into the bowl, "And a touch of that…" He pulled the stopper off a vial and poured out half of its powdery contents on top. "Lovely."

Slater ushered me forward with one hand while he mixed the bowl with the other. "Cysylltu â ni."

"Connect us?" I asked befuddled. Slater smirked at me, "Come here." He placed his large palm against my forehead, and I gasped. Images came rushing across my eyes and I almost vomited at the alarmingly disorienting speed that they passed.

"Concentrate," Slater urged me. "Find a time we can slip in without anyone noticing something wrong."

I felt a tug somewhere near my navel, and I thought I was again that I was going to vomit when I realized that it was a moment tugging me, not my digestive system. I saw her, she was frail and weak and holding up a vial of dark tar-like liquid. She was drinking it and passing out. The scene played over again as I lingered on it and it changed her eyes glowing blue for a moment as the windows shattered.

"Now," I said loudly. "I think this is the place."

"Amo." Here. Slater staggered backward before sitting down his palms open over the bowl, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Okay, okay." He muttered, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck prick up, and a wave of chills run down my spin before I turned around. A small, frail girl with dark limp hair and sharp green eyes frowned at me, her form flickering weakly.

"Lucy," I laughed softly, sadly. "Wow, it's…weird seeing you like this…so young."

"What is this? Who are you?" She demanded and squared her shoulders stubbornly.

"I— It's me." I took a hesitant step forward. "It's Avery.'

Lucy's eyes widened in disbelief before narrowing. "Jackson? No, that's impossible. You disappeared after your mother died in that fire. And Avery Jackson is fifteen years old. You're not fifteen years old."

The image wavered violently.

"Slater?" I asked sharply. "What's happening?"

He groaned a little as if in pain. "I'm losing the connection. Hurry up."

"Listen we don't have much time, but once I figure out how to get to you, I'm going to find a way to fix this," I promised.

"Fix this?" Her eyes widened, life that wasn't there before filling them. "Fix me. You can fix what's wrong with me." Her voice was demanding almost angry. Like there would be hell to pay if she caught me lying. "Are you really Avery?" Lucy asked. I smiled sadly, and she blurred again violently.

"I'll figure this out!" I shouted before everything flickered out for the last time. "I promise," I whispered to the empty air.

"Bloody hell." Slater leaned back into the rickety wooden chair heavily. I turned to shoot him a watery smile but frowned when I saw a thin trickle of blood roll out of his nose.

"Tom? Are you okay?" I asked closing the distance between us and pushing his chin up to tilt his head back a little.

His hand went over mine and pulled it away from his face. "I'm fine princess." Slater grimaced but some of his cockiness shined through his obvious discomfort.

"Your nose is bleeding." I pointed out stubbornly.

"And?" He laughed. "It also does that during the winter when the air is too cold and dry."

"Yeah but—" I protested, and he rolled his eyes. My hand fell with his as he pulled it all the way down.

"It's just a little strenuous to make contact with universes when I don't have a place in those times. That's why I needed your blood. But I promise," He smirked. "It wasn't anything I couldn't handle."

"Okay," I nodded still unsure. I didn't want any more pain, anyone's pain, to be my fault. I already had too much blood on my hands.

"When will we be able to get to her?" I asked him.

"As soon as-" Slater's eyes flickered to the door a moment before I heard the familiar rumble of the Impala from outside. "Winchesters," He cursed.

How long had we been here? I glanced at the clock, and my eyes widened in shock. 2 hours? That was impossible. Slater had only just arrived half an hour after the boys left and the whole exchange with Lucy couldn't have taken more than ten minutes.

He jumped out of his seat and dropped my hand which swung limply at my side. Panic coursed through me at the thought of what Dean might do if he found Slater. Tom started stashing his things hastily into the briefcase, and I realized that freezing was not the best way to avoid a confrontation. I grabbed the abandoned dagger, meaning to give it back to Slater when the door opened, and I almost jumped out of my skin in horror.

It was almost comical how silent and still everything was before Dean pulled a gun out and aimed it at Slater's head.

"Dean don't shoot!" I pleaded.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded, his voice reduced to a thick rumble. My muscles locked as Slater crossed his arms tauntingly.

"My business is my own, Winchester."

Dean sneered and cocked his gun. "You have three seconds before I—"

"He's like me, Dean!" I said in a strangled voice.

Sam's eyes widened his own gun falling from Slater's head. "There's more than one vessel?"

Dean looked at me then Slater then back again. "How long have you known about him?"

I floundered, weak noises of distress issued from my mouth as I tried to explain myself.

"Tell me why I shouldn't shoot him right here and now!" Dean demanded.

"Because he's not the enemy Dean! He's my friend, he's been helping me with all this." I pleaded.

Dean shook his head angrily. "You don't know anything about this guy! He could be anyone! Do anything! He's dangerous."

Slater shook his head in disbelief.

"See this is why I don't get tangled up with the Winchesters. The good guys always end up getting axed." He spat.

Dean's face fell and he looked like he'd just been slapped. I gaped at Slater in disbelief, I couldn't believe he'd just said that. Dean's face morphed into one of murderous rage before he launched himself at Tom and punched him square in the jaw.

"Dean!"

Slater didn't fight as the blows kept raining down. In fact, he looked almost bored underneath the blood and bruising.

Sam shoved his gun into his waistband and pulled his brother off of Slater.

"You son of a—let go of me, Sammy!" Dean growled, and I didn't quite blame him. Dean had a lot of blood on his hands both directly and indirectly. He blamed himself for every one of those deaths. He punished himself harshly every day for it and for someone to go and throw his failures in his face? Well, I was surprised Dean hadn't just shot him there and then.

Slater wiped the blood from his lip with his thumb and looked at it curiously before smirking. His face glowed blue for a moment, and the damage disappeared as if it had never happened. Slater stood up and straightened himself out. "So uncivilized. You all right darling?" He asked me, and I continued to gape at him.

"Me?" I asked dumbfounded. Slater frowned at me and glanced at my hand which was still wrapped around the blade of the knife and bleeding because of how forcefully my fist had clenched around it. "Oh," The blade slipped out of my grip, and more blood rushed out of my palm. It was almost silly to me how many times I'd gotten hurt and hadn't registered it. That had never happened to me in the past, and I wondered what had changed.

Slater gave me a piercing look that made me feel slightly ashamed. Of what, I couldn't be sure. He took my hand in his, and the gash glowed blue before sealing, a thin scar left in its place.

"What the hell?" He murmured. Sam and Dean were no longer struggling, just watching the moment as if observing aliens in their natural state.

"What is it?" I probed watching several emotions flicker across Slater's face.

"You scarred." He said quietly.

"Yeah," I nodded confused. "Is that not supposed to happen?"

Slater looked at me with thinly veiled concern that made my stomach flop. "No, that's not supposed to happen." His hand tightened around mine for a second as if he was trying to reassure me. "I'm going to go."

"Like hell you are!" Dean snarled.

"I'd like to see you stop me." Slater sneered before picking up his briefcase and the knife. Dean ripped his arms away from Sam who had still been holding him back, and Slater winked at me before he disappeared, the faint sound of ruffling feathers the only thing left behind.

Dean glared at the spot Slater had been for a moment before his gaze fell on me. In two strides he closed the distance between us and had me pinned to the wall, his forearm pressed against my throat.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

"You know, you make it really damn hard to trust you," Dean said heatedly.

"I'm sorry!" I told him, And I was. Sorry, that he had found out. Sorry that this whole thing had gotten so messy.

Dean scoffed. "No, you're not. And if you want to stay with us, then you kick your buddy to the curb. Otherwise, I want you gone. Do you understand?"

"Dean you're being unreasonable!" I growled. "Sam back me up!"

Sam looked at me quietly before glancing away. "We don't know this guy and, no offense, but your word isn't enough this time. Just because you're vouching for him doesn't mean that he's trustworthy."

I gaped at him, shocked that he wasn't on my side, Dean was clearly in the wrong here.

"Since when are you two the arbiters of who is and isn't trustworthy? Last I checked you've put your trust in way more untrustworthy characters than Tom. Or have you forgotten Ruby?" I spat, and Sam flinched.

"And what about Gordon? Huh, Dean?"

"Don't try to turn this on us," Dean sneered, "We've been doing this for years, believe it or not, but we know better than you." His fist closed around my shirt collar. "Make your choice. Him or us."

I closed my eyes and mustered up all of the patience I had left. "Dean, I know him and I promise, he wouldn't do anything to endanger any of us—"

"Fine. Get out." Dean dropped me and started throwing my belongings into my bag.

"You can't be serious…" I watched in disbelief. "Guys…"

Sam looked torn. "Forget about him being a danger to us, he could be dangerous for you. Yeah, I trusted Ruby and that was a huge mistake. Maybe my biggest mistake." Sam's eyes were pleading. "Don't make the same mistake. Stick with us."

"She's made her choice Sam." Dean snapped before throwing my duffel bag at me. I barely caught it and fumbled with its weight before finally hugging it to myself like a safety blanket.

I didn't know when I'd started getting used to the idea of sticking with the Winchester for the foreseeable future or when the urge to run away from them had disappeared, but I suddenly realized that I wanted to stay. So much that it hurt. But I couldn't cut Slater off. I needed him, to save Lucy, and because he was my friend. He'd been helping me find my powers and use them. He was the key to regaining my memory. I needed him. Didn't they get that?

"You don't understand—"

"Out!" Dean growled and I flinched.

"Fine…fine," I said quietly. I knew when I wasn't wanted. Dean had been itching for a reason to get rid of me for a long time. He finally had his excuse. This was the only reason that he would be so adamant that I leave. Slater wasn't even close to a threat, and Dean must have known that too. He just wanted me gone. I slung my duffel over my shoulder and walked out the door numbly, not turning back once.

P/N Wow, so lots of developments and Avery is no longer with the boys...for now. You're going to find out very soon that big things tend to happen when they drift apart...

Anyways, please leave a review and tell me what you think. Remember everyone that leaves a review gets a sneak peek of the next chapter but I know some of you don't want spoilers so you can leave a review and just say you don't want the sneak peek. I'll respect your wishes. Also, remember to let me know if you guys want to do another one-shot event. If we were to do one it would start on October first and close 2 weeks before Halloween so I can fill all the requests. The rules of the one-shot event are on my profile so you should go check it out if you're interested and let me know!