A/N Hi guys! I'm back with another chapter. Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and reviewed! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. And I've also received some submissions for the One-Shot Octoberfest! I'm really excited to start working on your guy's prompts. I can already tell that a few of these are real gems. Remember to leave a review below and tell me what you think. Everyone that reviews gets a sneak peek of the next chapter. Enjoy!

Ch. 10

Your Will or Mine?

"Sometimes you have to give up on people, not because you don't care, but because they don't." - Unknown

Cars rushed passed me as I walked down the road that led to the other side of town. I had already passed three different inns but the were all too expensive, and I only had limited funds now that I was on my own. I couldn't waste a single dime if I wanted them to last.

An hour passed, my feet ached, and I felt like I couldn't drag that stupid duffel a foot further. I plopped down onto the ground and fought the urge to cry. This was stupid. Dean was stupid. Everything was freaking stupid. What the hell was I supposed to do now? I had no place to go. No direction or purpose. Not even a job to support myself. There was only one person left I could think to go to.

"Slater…I-I need your help." I pulled my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around them feeling small and insignificant. There was a flutter behind me but I didn't flinch. I could feel that it was him.

"What are you doing in the middle of the road, princess?"

I sighed. "They kicked me out."

"Kicked you out?" Slater repeated taking a few steps forward so that he was now in my line of vision.

"Yeah, they didn't approve of you. Told me if I wanted to stay I was going to have to cut all ties with you." I explained and he grinned at me.

"And you told them where to shove it, did you?" He asked pleased.

"Kind of the opposite," I muttered. "The point is, I have no place to go, barely any money, and no contacts except for you so…"

"Don't you worry love. I'll take good care of you." Slater held out his hand for me to take and I did. He pulled me up in one swift motion before slinging my duffel over his shoulder.

"You don't have to carry that—" I protested as I dusted the dirt off my jeans.

"I know," He cut me off. "I want to. Any place you'd like to go?" Slater asked me.

I glanced around me for a moment and caught sight of a sign that advertised the local diner.

"Food. Let's go there." I said eagerly. I hadn't eaten yet that day and I had barely picked at my food the night before so I was ravenous.

"Okay," Slater grinned at me. "Food it is, here." He held out his hand again and I frowned.

"What?" He laughed. "You didn't think we were going to walk, did you?"

I took his hand tentatively and gasped when the floor seemed to fall out from beneath my feat and then suddenly reappear. We were now in an alley next to the diner, which was in the main square of town. I could see the vegan bakery from where we stood.

"You're gonna have to teach me that." I grinned, turned slightly to the left and caught sight of the restaurant where the shaman chef was. It was a block or two away but it was there. A plan of action started to fall into place in my head and I quickly weighed the pros and cons and decided how I would carry the whole thing out.

"Hey let's drop off the bag at an inn or something." I told him quickly. Slater's smile wavered.

"Why? We aren't going to stay here long."

I rolled my eyes. "I know, I just don't want to bring in a bag full of weapons and my personal belongings into a crowded, public area. It makes me uncomfortable."

He looked at me skeptically but shrugged. "Okay, give me a minute." He disappeared with a flutter and was back in less than ten minutes. "Okay we're in a Holiday Inn a couple of blocks away."

"Perfect," I smiled as widely as I could and tried to look happy. "Let's eat."

An hour, two eggs, three pancakes, and a side of bacon later I was leaning back against the red leather booth full and jittery as I kept trying to run out the clock. While I had been waiting for Slater before Dean discovered us, I had been doing research on Chef Leo's restaurant. It was high end and was only open for dinner on the weekdays starting at six pm and open at noon on weekends. Restaurants of that caliber started doing prep-work about four hours if not more before service started so at around this time the scut workers who did all the chopping and sorting etc. where probably just starting to file in and prepare for the busy night.

Chef Leo, being the head chef, wouldn't probably arrive until and hour before service started. If I could get into the restaurant at about five and shut down service I could set a trap for Leo and kill him before the boys had a chance and then disappear into the sunset. And if I didn't manage to kill Leo and he— well I'd probably be able to weaken him by the time the boys came around which was better than nothing.

My three biggest problems? Stalling Slater, getting Slater out of the way, and disrupting the service, getting everyone out before I killed their head chef.

"Are you ready then?" Slater asked. I nodded sluggishly.

"Oh yeah, I'm stuffed. Thank you." I gave an exaggerated yawn and chuckled. "Ugh, I think I'm gonna fall into a food coma. You think we could stop at the inn and I could take a quick power nap?" I asked.

Slater looked slightly annoyed but masked it quite well. "Don't you want to put this town in the rearview?"

"We're not traveling by car," I pointed out. "And yes, I do…but after my power nap."

Slater gave me a bitch face that Sam would be proud of.

"Look this has been a long day for me," I said softly. "I just need to rest for a little, please?"

Slater's features softened and he nodded.

"Thank you." I said truthfully. He really did look out for me. I felt a little bad about what I was about to do.

He payed for the food and zapped us to the hotel room which was much nicer than the one I had been staying in with the Winchesters. It had two queen beds, a bathroom, and a little kitchenette complete with a Keurig coffee maker. My duffel was on the bed closest to the window.

"I'm going to go brush my teeth." I announced picking up my bag and taking it into the bathroom.

"All right then." Slater nodded. "Afterwards I want to have a chat with you about working more on your powers and your memory."

"Sure!" I closed the door and locked it before unzipping my bag and tearing through my belongings. I needed something anything I could use to—

I gently took out a pill bottle that I completely forgotten I had.

Ambien.

These bad boys could knock someone out for hours. Depression was a tricky thing, one day you would sleep for hours and hours and then for a week you wouldn't be able to sleep unless you took a couple of these every night. They made you hung over as hell but they did the job. I hadn't needed to use one of these in almost two years. My psychiatrist had finally perfected my cocktail so that my depression induced insomnia wasn't so debilitating but I had kept them just in case.

I rummaged through my bag again and found a little plastic baggie. I took out three pills and started crushing them against the sink using one of the complimentary glasses. Once the pills were a fine white powder I scooped as much as I could into the baggie and washed the rest away. I put the bag in my pocket and quickly washed my teeth before putting everything else away.

When I came out of the bathroom Slater was lounging on the bed flipping through the channels.

"Finally," He sighed throwing the remote to the side. "I need to take a leak." He strode past me with a grin and I rolled my eyes at him playfully. The second the door closed behind my smile fell and I let out a sigh. My eyes landed on the Keurig and my heart jumped in my chest. Perfect. I couldn't believe my luck.

I all but ran to the tiny machine and popped in a capsule that read 'Colombian Peaks'. I didn't know much about coffee except that Colombian was supposed to be the best. I popped that one in and waited impatiently for it to finish. I heard the water run in the bathroom and I quickly dumped the ambien into the mug just as the coffee started to pour in. I mixed the drug in as thoroughly as I could and popped in another capsule just as Slater walked out the door.

"What are you doing?" He asked drying his hands on his slacks.

"I made you coffee." I smiled as my heart beat nervously in my chest. "I'm making myself some too."

Slater frowned. "I thought you were going to take a nap."

"I thought about it and you're right." I said quickly. "I don't want to spend another minute here so I thought we could use a pick me up." I held my own freshly finished coffee and took a scalding sip. I tried not let the pain show on my face but Slater was looking at me like I was deranged.

"I'm good but thank you."

I let my face fall and I looked away. "Oh sorry, I—I just wanted to do something nice because…well you've done so much to help me and—"

"Fine. I'll drink the bloody coffee." Slater took the cup from my hands and I beamed at him.

"You're going to explain to me why you're acting so nutty." He said sternly before taking a sip. I nodded jerkily and we finished our coffee in silence. As he was tilting the last of his dregs back he paused and smacked his lips before peering into the mug carefully.

"What in the—?"

"What is it?" I asked him, panic leaking into my voice. I must have not mixed the ambien in well enough. There must have been some clumps of it stuck to the bottom that settled while he was drinking the coffee.

"Did you—" Slater blinked before stumbling back a little, the mug slipped out of his hand and crashed to the floor before shattering. Lukewarm coffee and clumps of undissolved ambien stained the floor. "—you?" his knees buckled and he leaned heavily against the bed as his body swayed.

"What—did you s'mething…?"

I ran to his side and caught him as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp. "Why—?"

"I have to take care of this shaman guy before we go." I told him as I tried to gently lower him to the ground. But he was at least fifty pounds heavier than me and had almost a foot on my.

"I knew you would try to stop me and this was the only way—"

"Ungh n-no…" He slurred pulling at my sleeve weakly.

"I'm sorry." I repeated as I pried his hand from me and stood up. I slid the gun in my waistband and watched for a moment as Slater tried to crawl to me before losing consciousness.

I glanced at the digital clock on the night desk between the two beds. It was almost three o'clock. I had less then two hours to get to the restaurant and figure out a way to shut it down.

I paced the room anxiously. Think, think, think. Why do kitchens get shut down? Unsanitary conditions, right? But how was I going to convince the cooks that it was unsanitary and then persuade them to leave?

The movie Ratatouille popped into my head. The kitchen was almost shut down and subsequently was shut down for an infestation of rats. But where the hell was I going to get rat—

Oh. I'm an idiot.

The shaman had his weird backroom filled with animal parts and, yes, a cage full of white mice. Not rats, technically, but beggars can't be choosers. I ran back to my duffel and fished out the lock picking kit Sam had gifted me and taught me how to use. I would break in, release the mice, stumble in pretending to be a customer that walked in through the 'accidentally' open door, scream at the chaos and mice, and threaten to expose the cooks if they didn't shut it all down. I would also order them to call their head chef, Leo, in to have a private chat and boom.

I would kill him.

I nodded to myself quickly. Because nothing could go wrong with that plan.

I cast Slater one last look and headed out to go to the restaurant.

"Do you think I did the right thing?"

Sam looked up from his laptop shocked. Dean had been sitting on his bed stonily after finding out about the side effects of the potion and arguing quietly with the Colonel. Neither of them had talked about Avery since she'd left.

"I don't know, Dean." Sam answered truthfully, sitting back in his chair heavily. "On one hand, we don't know anything about the other vessel or how long they've been communicating. I'm guessing it must have been a while if she's willing to vouch for him and that means that she's been keeping that from us for just as long, which begs the question: can we even trust her?"

Dean nodded.

"But on the other hand, we took her in, trained her, protected her." Sam frowned. "She's on Abaddon's hit list and we kicked her to the curb. She was our responsibility."

Dean looked pained, like he had been thinking the same thing.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"Do you think she can make it on her own?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at his brother, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the right words before he stood up and started pacing. "Well, she won't be on her own, will she? She has that Slater guy. He'll take care of her, right?"

"If she's even with him." Sam said.

"Why wouldn't she be with him?" Dean asked angrily. "She chose him over us, didn't she?"

"I don't know, Dean." Sam looked worried like he also regretted kicking Avery out. But the instinct to protect himself and his brother was so strong. Neither of them could stand to know that there was a potential threat looming over them and just let it go unchecked. So they had removed the problem entirely. But that didn't make it weigh any less on their conscious that they might have left Avery alone and defenseless.

They both jumped out of their seats when out of thin air a man crashed into the small table between them and rolled onto the floor. Both brothers had their guns trained on the form as he struggled to push himself up onto his knees.

"Sshhe's gunna get herrself killed." He slurred.

"Hey!" Dean barked in surprise. "You're that guy!"

Slater managed to stand up before sliding back into the table. Sam caught him with one arm and lowered him into Dean's chair.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam asked putting his gun away.

"Avry drugged me." Slater shook his head to try and knock himself back into coherency but his eyes were still glazed over.

"What?" Dean demanded. "Why?"

"Yyou!" Slater pointed at Dean drunkly. "Yyou make her feel worthhless. She doesn't think she'ss anything better thann canon fodder."

"What are you talking about?" Dean growled and Sam shot him a confused look.

"Avry went after Leo on herr own. Thinks she can take carre of him orr die trying." Slater's speech began to get clearer with each passing moment.

Dean's eyes widened in shock. "She what?"

"She knew I would neverr let her go so she slipped something into my coffee." Slater closed his eyes as he started turning a little green.

"How long ago was this?" Sam demanded.

"I don't know, an hourr? Two?" Slater said.

"How are you even up right now?" Sam asked. Slater looked at him, his eyes were still unfocused.

"I'm a vessel, we metabolize things quicker. If sshe had known that she probably would have given me more." Slater pushed Sam's hands away. "We have to go now! She's gunna get herrself killed!"

"Okay." Dean said determined. "You stay here. You're in no shape to fight."

Slater looked panicked for a moment. "No! I have to come. What if she's hurt? She can't heal herself properly."

"What do you mean she can't heal herself properly?" Dean asked sharply. "I've seen her do it."

Slater shook his head angrily. "No, there's something wrong with her. Even my abilities couldn't heal her all the way."

"She scarred." Sam said quietly before looking up at Dean. "She scarred, Dean, remember?"

Dean looked like the idea of having Slater anywhere near him during a fight left a bad taste in his mouth but Slater did have a point. And if Avery got hurt bad enough, Slater would be the only one who could help. He didn't want to have to ask Zeke for any more healing favors. Not when it made Sam weaker.

"Fine." Dean ground out. "Let's go."

I glanced at the clock on the wall in the kitchen for the fifteenth time as I waited for the chef to show up. My plan with his mice had worked perfectly. And a few pictures taken with the flip phone Dean had given me was enough to convince the staff that I wasn't joking about leaking the story to the first tabloid I could get in contact with.

The sous had said that Leo would be in shortly but that was fifteen minutes ago and I was getting antsy.

Just when I thought the chef was going to be a no show, the door creaked open and I jumped out of the chair I'd been sitting in.

"So you're the whistleblower." He crossed his arms and I discreetly put my hand on the gun in my waistband.

"You run a pretty tight ship here," I said sarcastically. "Rats and all."

"Funny," The chef smiled humorlessly. "But both you and I know that my kitchen doesn't have a rat infestation."

"Oh, do I?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, because I just so happen to have a security camera in the storeroom you broke into tonight. So I know that you released those mice into my kitchen. What I don't know is why you would set up such and elaborate ruse to get me here alone." The chef said walking towards me slowly.

My mouth went dry and I pulled out my gun as fast as I could, aiming at the chef's head before firing—

But the chef was gone. I spun around and found him grinning at me, large thin claws had replaced his fingers.

"What animals did you eat this time?" I asked breathlessly at his speed. This might be more then I can handle.

"Did you know that the Peregrine Falcon can move up to 200 miles an hour while hunting for prey? Or that a wolverine's claws are one of the sharpest on the planet?" Leo boasted before his pupils dilated to match that of a birds and were rimmed with gold. I fired again and gasped when I felt my cheek sting as four of the Chef's claws ran across my face.

My hand flew up to my cheek instinctively and my stomach flopped in surprise when I felt that the cuts were relatively shallow.

Why hadn't he just kill me outright—?

Oh.

"I know its bad manners to play with your food but I just can't help myself." The chef grinned before licking the blood off of his claws. His eyes widened in surprise and pleasure before rolling to the back of his head.

"What are you?" He gasped as his eyes snapped back open, they glowed blue faintly.

"W-what?" I stuttered.

"Your blood it's—" The chef rolled his neck and the blue glow faded from his eyes. "It's so sweet. I can feel its power running through me."

Uh oh. This was a huge mistake.

I fired again several times in quick succession but the chef blurred out of the way. I screamed as I felt claws like knives pierce through my shoulder, cutting through muscle and sinew before pinning me to the dry wall like a piece of meat. The chef's other clawed hand pinned my gun arm to the wall and cutting through my skin before his head bent over my bleeding shoulder and he sucked, lapping up my blood like a dehydrated man in a desert would drink from an oasis.

The sensation of his tongue pushing through the torn flesh of my shoulder was as agonizing as it was revolting. I didn't know if I wanted to vomit because of the pain or because of how disgusting it felt.

The chef was becoming rabid in his haste to drink the blood coming from my wound, his hand loosened over my gun arm and I threw it off before trying to shoot him again. The bullet missed its mark and the chef buried his claws into my abdomen vengefully, his eyes glowing cerulean.

I choked at the sensation of fire erupting in my stomach and coughed as my lungs started to fill with blood. The chef grinned vindictively but I took the opportunity to shoot him in the chest while his hand was busy slicing up my insides.

I might have laughed at his shock when red started to blossom from his chest if I hadn't been choking on my own blood. I shot him again and again until the gun clicked, empty, and the chef went limp pulling me down with him.

I don't know if it was the way I fell or the way his hand was angled in my abdomen but his claws pushed deeper through me and there was a flare of pain before I lost sensation in my legs. I was still caught in the chef's claws and we were twisted together in a grotesque embrace.

Everything was silent again except for the choked, pained noises I was making. The kitchen tiles beneath me were cold and stained with blood. I wasn't sure if it was mine or the chef's. Probably both. I looked away from the chef's open and dead eyes that stared at me.

I reached deep within myself for my grace but like before it wouldn't come with me easily like the first couple of times. I had to pull it kicking and screaming like a toddler who didn't want to take a bath.

When I finally pushed it towards my abdomen I screamed at the pain it caused. The new flesh and organ tissue that had been trying to grow back was sliced through again by the claws still lodged there. I stopped immediately and gasped until the pain wasn't as debilitating.

Blood continued to seep from my body and I felt fainter and fainter. I was so tired. I didn't think I would have the energy to try and use my grace again.

Maybe if I closed my eyes for a minute, I could build up my strength and try again. Yes, I'd just rest for a second…

The door burst open loudly and I jumped, the claws slicing through me more. The strangled cry I let out drew the newcomer's attention and I could hear their heavy footsteps run toward me.

"You idiot, what did you do!" Dean scolded me but I could hear the panic in his voice.

"Long t-time no see." I said weakly as Dean's hands hovered over me. He looked like he couldn't decide where to go first. He finally nodded and put one hand on my shoulder and the other on the chef's right hand.

The small amount of pressure from Dean's hand was enough to jostle the razor sharp claws and I cried out.

"On three. One, two—" Dean pulled and the claws came out with a sickening squelch. Blackness ran over my eyes and when I opened them Sam was helping a drunk looking Slater through the door towards me. I was now lying on my back and one of Dean's hands was all but holding my insides inside my stomach. The other was pressed against my left shoulder to stop the bleeding.

"Welcome back," Dean growled at me.

"Back?" I croaked.

"You passed out— Yeah any day now Sammy, she's only bleeding out after all!" Dean snapped. Sam pulled Slater to my side and helped keep him propped up as Slater knelt down.

"Okay, lay your healing hands on her or whatever." Dean ordered.

"What were you thinking?" Slater asked me sadly as he took in my physical state. He looked hurt.

"You know what I was thinking." I said weakly, quietly. Blackness was creeping back at the edges of my vision. New hands rested against my wounds and pain like I had never felt in my entire life coursed through me.

But instead of my brain shutting down and letting me pass out, my consciousness got sharp and clear. I felt my body start to knit itself together. There was a burning pain in my lower back and suddenly the numbness that had swept over my legs when the chef stabbed me disappeared and was replaced with more pain.

"STOP!" I managed to choke past the agony.

"What are you doing to her!" Dean yelled.

"Shut up and let me work." Slater hissed.

"Dean, look. She's healing," Sam insisted.

My hands clawed at the ground looking for purchase. I need to channel the agony somehow. I finally found Dean's wrist I squeezed like my life depended on it.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelped in surprised pain.

Another few agonizing moments passed before the pain slacked off into a dull ache. Instead of feeling like I had been put through a meat grinder, I felt like I had gone ten rounds with an MMA fighter.

My hand went limp and I groaned. My eyes fluttered open. Sam, Dean, and Slater were all around me, their faces hovering over me blocking out the harsh lights of the kitchen lamps. It almost looked like they had halos. Dean and Slater's hands fell away from me and Slater promptly passed out. Sam caught him before he could crack his head into the ground and Dean was holding his hand to his chest gingerly.

"I think you broke my hand." He said tightly. I might have imagined it but I think he looked impressed.

I sat up gingerly and closed my eyes again as the room spun unsteadily. My stomach churned, I felt terrible.

"Is Slater okay?" I asked thickly and opened my eyes again.

"I think so—" Sam started.

"No thanks to you." Dean said angrily. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

"No, of course not." I responded tiredly.

"Yeah, of course not." Dean responded facetiously.

I looked at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Avery," Sam said hesitantly. "You must have known that you weren't going to be match for him. Hell, it was you who argued that we should use the potion to be prepared."

I couldn't look Sam in the eye as he continued. "Why would you go after him if not to…you know…"

"I'm not suicidal." I snapped at him.

"Aren't you?" Dean growled. "You knew this was a suicide mission."

"I killed him didn't I?" I closed my eyes again as another wave of nausea rolled through me.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked me his hand resting on my shoulder. My hand shot out and clutched Sam's sleeve tightly.

"I think I'm going to throw up." I opened my eyes and took a deep breath through my nose.

Sam helped me up and I all but sprinted toward the nearest trash can and vomited. I wiped the bile from my lip and sighed tiredly before turning around.

"We should probably get out of here. There's no way someone hasn't reported the gunshots yet."

"We're staying at a Holiday Inn across town." I told Dean quietly as we raced down the highway. His left hand was wrapped in a black wrist splint.

"What?" Sam asked.

"You can drop us off there." I continued as I looked over at Slater who was fast asleep in the seat next to me. I think that after the combination of the ambien and the strain it took to heal me, he was spent.

"No, you're staying with us." Sam insisted. My eyes snapped back to the front.

"What? I thought my association with Slater was a deal breaker." I said brittlely.

"Dean and I talked about it and…we changed our minds." Sam said.

"You changed your minds?" I repeated blankly.

"You obviously can't take care of yourself—"

"Dean." Sam warned.

"Excuse me?" I asked dangerously.

"You heard me." Dean growled. "You're reckless, you could have gotten yourself killed."

"So?" I demanded. Where did Dean get off lecturing me? He had his fair share if running into battles without given it a second thought.

"So?" Dean repeated in angry disbelief.

"It's my life, and because it's my life, I have the unique privilege of getting to do with it what I please!" I yelled. "I'm sick and tired of you dictating what I can do and where I can go. First you kick me out, and now you want me back in?"

I scoffed. "Sorry but I don't want to have to worry that you'll change your minds again and I'll be back on the street. And it's really rich that you think you can lecture me on running into something recklessly."

"You almost died today." Dean snapped.

"I know, you haven't stopped reminding me all night." I retorted angrily.

"As far as I'm concerned, you're under our protection. So that means you have to stay with us. End of discussion." Dean said. "And, regardless of what I may or may not have done in the past, I know better then you. So sit back and shut up."

I had never felt more angry in my entire life then in that moment. I just wanted to scream and break things. I wanted to punch Dean right in his stupid bossy face. Sam just pinched the bridge of his nose like he could feel a headache coming on.

"Slater wake up." I shook his shoulder roughly and he snorted awake, almost falling out of the seat in the process.

"Wha—? I'm up!" His hair stuck up oddly and his eyes were still heavy with sleep.

"Let's get out of here." I told him quickly. Sam's head snapped up and he turned back to look at us.

"Don't you dare." Dean growled, he glared at me through the rearview mirror.

"Yeah yes, of course." Slater nodded drunkenly before placing his hand on my shoulder and screwing his eyes shut.

"Avery!" Dean yelled…but nothing happened. Slater snored loudly and my jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Ha, looks like your buddy's too tired to get it up." Dean gave me a self satisfied smirk.

"Dean." Sam scolded tiredly.

"I hate you." I hissed through gritted teeth.

"You love me." Dean bit back. "Now where did you say you were staying again? We need to pick your stuff up so we can get back to the bunker."

"Bite me."

P/N So...what do you guys think? Let me know in the reviews! Are my characterizations accurate? Do you want to see different things happen in certain relationships and other avenues explored? Let me know! Your feedback is what I value more than anything else. Remember if you leave a review you get a sneak peek of the next chapter and if you would like to participate in the One-Shot Octoberfest send me a message with your prompt or leave it in the reviews! I will stop taking submissions two weeks before Halloween so hurry up!

-Lucy