So, guys, I am thinking about including an episode of Constantine. I know the show started a lot later then Supernatural did, but I am obviously changing that as I'm including John in my story. It will between three episodes.

GreyMoon.Huntress- Dean will be more overprotective of AJ as he's her twin. Both her brothers and Bobby do know about her history with him.

Crimson.blood.witch- Thanks a lot!!.

As always, I don't own the show only AJ.

"So they're all people we know?."

"Not just know, Sammy. They're people we failed to save," I sighed, wincing a little, the pain in my back now mixing lovingly with the pain in my head in spite of all the painkillers I'd downed since I'd regained consciousness.

Believe me, it had taken every ounce of strength I had in me to stop myself from cracking, from finally telling my brothers and Bobby the secret I'd been hiding from them since I dug myself out of my own coffin, the world of darkness I'd ended up in after passing out being stricken by yet more flashes of my time in the pit. How much longer could I keep this from them?. And which would they hate me the more for, keeping it from them or knowing I'd tortured innocent souls for a decade?.

"I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?," Dean asked, looking at our younger brother.

"I don't think so."

"Yeah, I saw something as well, on Henriksen as well as Meg. It was like some sort of...brand or mark," I said, frowning a little getting up off the couch slowly, still feeling a little wobbly.

"What did it look like?," Bobby asked.

"Here, I'll draw it. Paper?."

I take the sheet of paper off him moving over to the desk, grabbing a pencil, starting to draw the mark. And my frown deepens, staring down at it, looking slowly back up at Bobby, letting him see it a few seconds later.

"I may have seen this before. We gotta move. Follow me."

"Oh. Okay. Where are we going?," Sam asked, watching him gather up a small pile of his musty old books.

"Some place safe, you idjit."

-x-

"It had to be in the basement. I hate fucking basements," I muttered, trailing behind my two brothers, the three of us following Bobby downstairs.

"Still scared of basements, huh?," Dean smirked, getting an AJ bitch face off me.

"I'm not scared of them. I just dislike them. Anyway, it's your fault for convincing me watching The Evil Dead when I was twelve was such a hot idea."

"Hey, think you'll find it was your idea. I just rolled with it."

"Have you two idjits quite finished?," Bobby asked, a little irritably, glaring at the pair of us, his hands unlocking what looks like a door, pretty old looking, the material it's made of looking iron like, pulling it open a minute later.

"Whatever," I muttered walking in after them, still feeling a little uncomfortable.

It's impossible to stop my jaw from dropping a little looking around the room Bobby had led us into which looks like it belongs in the military. It's fully stocked with weapons and ammunition, some books and what looks like an old fashioned radio on a desk. There's even a bed in here if a little on the small size. The walls look like they're fashioned from the same metal as the door.

I jump a little hearing the door shut quite loudly getting another tiny smirk off my twin making me flip him off hearing him snort under his breath.

"Bobby...is this?..."

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. One hundred percent ghost-proof."

"A panic room. Genius," I grinned, my fear of basements lessening off a little.

"You actually built one?," Sam questioned him, smiling a little.

"I had a weekend off," Bobby shrugged.

"Bobby?," Dean said.

"What?."

" You're awesome."

"Totally awesome," I laughed.

-x-

"This is why I can't get behind God," Dean said, looking up from the rock salt shotgun shells he'd been working on along with Sam, making me sigh, looking over at him from where I'm sat with Bobby, the two of us taking up the book questing.

"What are you talking about?," Sam asked, looking up at him.

"If he exists, fine. Bad crap happens to good people, that's how it is. And no rhyme or reason, just random, horrible, evil. I get it. Okay?. I can roll with that. But if he is out there...what's wrong with him?. Where the hell is he while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds?. How does he live with himself, you know?. Why doesn't he help?."

"I ain't touching this one with a ten-foot pole. Found it," Bobby said, tapping the page of the book he has in front of him.

"Thank God. Was starting to give up," I sighed, closing my book with a loud thud.

"The symbol you both saw. The brand on the ghosts. Mark of the Witness."

"Witness?. Witness to what exactly?."

"The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts, they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They're like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them on purpose."

"Who?," Sam frowned.

"Do I look like I know?. But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark. A brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans. It's called the Rising of the Witnesses. It figures into an ancient prophecy."

"Wait, what?. What book is that prophecy from?," Dean asked getting up, walking over to us.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," I muttered, swallowing hard.

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know. But long story short: Revelations. This is a sign."

"A sign of what?," Dean and Sam ask at the same time.

"The apocalypse."

"Apocalypse?."

"Yep."

"As in "apocalypse" apocalypse?. The four horsemen, pestilence...$5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?," Dean asked making me shoot him with a dirty mixed with worried look.

"Seriously, Dean, how many apocalypses do you know?," I snapped, resting my forehead in my hand then moving it into my blonde locks.

"That's the one. The Rise of the Witnesses is a...mile marker," Bobby explained.

"Okay. So, what do we do now?," Sam asked.

"Pfft. Road trip. Yeah. Grand Canyon, Star Trek experience, BunnyRanch," Dean said making me roll my eyes.

"First things first. How about we survive our friends out there?," Bobby answered.

"Great. Any ideas aside from staying in this room until judgement day?."

"It's a spell to send the Witnesses back to rest. Should work."

"Then what are we waiting for?," I asked, dropping my hand then getting up.

"If I translated correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house."

"Any chance you got everything you need here in this room?," Dean asked.

"So you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?. Spell's gotta be cast over an open fire."

"Fireplace in the library," Sam smiled slightly.

"Bingo."

"It's just not as appealing as a ghost-proof panic room, you know?," Dean said.

"Now can we get out of this basement?," I mumbled, my words unfortunately being heard by my twin.

"And you're telling me you're not scared of basements."