A/N: This is a companion piece to Caught in the Crossfire. Originally I was going to post these POVs in the main fic, but I didn't have enough of them to do it in a way that wouldn't ruin the flow. This won't make sense if you don't read Crossfire first.
This chapter takes place after the first chapter of Crossfire (it is also posted in the fic, but I believe in keeping it in order).

Porch Talks 1 - Kelly's POV

There is no death only a change of worlds. - Chief Seattle

It was just after sunset and I was sitting on the back deck of Bobby's with a glass of whiskey in my hands, the rest of the half-full bottle beside me. I felt awkward asking Bobby to drink his booze but was pleasantly surprised when he told me to take the whole bottle. I guess he could see in my face that one glass wouldn't do the trick.

As the last of the daylight slipped away, my mind wandered. Part of me knew I should be more freaked out but I was oddly calm about my circumstances. I had spent most of the day being grilled by the boys and Bobby about my arrival here and the world I'd come from. It was a welcomed distraction from worrying about Michelle's health, both physical and mental. I started to pour more into my glass when I heard the door open and close behind me, followed by footsteps that stopped beside me. From the corner of my eye, a well-worn work boot appeared. I followed it up a leg clad in beaten denim, to find Dean standing over me.

"Mind if I join?" He waved an empty glass above my head before sitting down on the steps beside me. I passed him the bottle and he silently poured himself a generous glass. He took a long drink, watching me over the rim. "Did you know the silent staring is seriously unsettling?"

I snapped out of my apparent stare, "sorry, I didn't realize I was even doing it. I guess I've been doing it a lot, eh?"

Dean laughed, "eh. Sorry. Hah. Guess you weren't lying about being Canadian."

I smiled back, "Nope. Sorry about the staring."

Dean laughed again, and I realized I'd dropped another Sorry. I was being pretty damn Canadian.

"I keep forgetting people can actually see me. Before, I could stare at someone and zone out completely. No one could see me, so I seem to be missing the normal social cues of when to stop now."

"You'll figure it back out. Besides, we have Cas around, so we're used to weird social ticks." Dean grabbed the bottle and topped up my glass. We lapsed back into silence for a few minutes before he broke it again. "So, can I ask? What was it like being a ghost in your world that long?"

It was my turn to take a long drink. I wanted to repress the last years. "Lonely."

"Lonely?" Dean raised his brow, giving me a look to continue.

"Yeah and frustrating. I never encountered any other ghosts like me. Years of having no one to talk to. To help me understand why I was still around. Lonely. Helpless. I could see things happening, but couldn't do anything to help anyone. Watching family and friends mourn you? It's heartbreaking. I tried everything to show them I was still there, but couldn't."

I downed more of my drink and Dean wordlessly refilled it. I felt the warmth of the whiskey spread in my chest, and the compulsion to keep talking.

"Being here. Being human. I'm happy, but I feel so fucking guilty to be happy while I see Michelle struggle. Happy." I snorted and shook my head. "How fucked up is that?"

"Not fucked up. You're human. You're not alone. Sounds like a good reason to be happy to me." Dean gave me a half-hearted smile.

"I was at that diner. I saw the aftermath of the demon that attacked Michelle. I didn't know she was there at the time. She's struggling, and dealing with that trauma, and I'm over here. Happy." I raised my glass in a mock cheer before taking another long drink.

"We're going to help her, and you. Make this right. You have my word." I looked at him making eye contact. He looked so sincere, I felt a new calmness wash over me.

"I don't even know what helping me looks like. I don't want to go back to my world, not to be a ghost again."

"Then Sammy and I will help you make a life here, once this is all...sorted." He knocked my knee with his and smiled. A life here was a lot to consider. I would be human again. If Michelle could go home though, I'd still be alone, in a world where monsters were real, but at least I would be alive.

"Thank you. Can we keep this between us, for now? I need to be strong for Michelle, and whenever that day comes, if that opportunity comes, I don't want her to know what my choice would be."

"Absolutely."

I wanted to change gears. Thinking too far in the future was bound to get my hopes up. Knowing this world, demons, angels and monsters, I could be dead again before I had a chance at another future. I drank more and Dean did the same. We lapsed into silence again, staring out at the scrap yard ahead of us.

"Do you know how long she'll be out with what Castiel did?"

"Cas said a couple of days. She's in rough shape. He said he fixed the physical injuries, but the mental stuff...well even angels have their limits."

I hadn't seen Michelle in over a year in my world. The woman I saw here was not the same by a long stretch. Gaunt and haunted, I was still surprised I had recognized her in the panic room. My mind flipped back to the scene at the diner again. All that blood. The smell of burnt flesh…

"You're staring again"

I snapped out of my train of thought and realized I'd been staring directly at Dean. He didn't seem bothered by it, probably used to it from Cas. "Thanks. Sorry again".

This earned me another half-smile, "stop being so Canadian."

I laughed a genuine laugh and felt a little of the weight lift off my chest. Dean grabbed the bottle to pour more for both of us, and we both realized it was nearly empty. Seeing the bottle so empty I recognized a feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time. "Uh oh."
"I'm sure Bobby has more." Dean stood up to head back into the house, but I stopped him by grabbing his pant leg.

"No, not that. I haven't had a drink in years, and now I had a few glasses of straight whiskey. On a mostly empty stomach. I think I'm drunk."

Dean laughed "okay, lightweight." He offered a hand and pulled me up. I swayed slightly as my world refocused, and he steadied me with a hand on my waist. My mind focused on the touch. Another thing I missed as a ghost was human touch. It felt so good. I must have been staring at his hand as he moved it and mumbled an apology.

"I think I should go to bed. After I chug some water."

"Probably a good idea." Dean motioned for me to lead the way back into the house.

I grabbed a glass of water and said goodnight to everyone. I stumbled up the stairs and headed up to the bedroom to pass out.

It was the second day at Bobby's and I was sitting on the porch again. I had spent part of the day reading, but soon realized I couldn't help much with research, given a lot of it was in Latin. Jane was staying in the basement to keep watch over Michelle and I was restless. I didn't know what else to do but sit outside. Feeling the sun on my face, and enjoying being human again felt like the only thing I could do.

"We have to stop meeting like this." Dean sat down on the step beside me, two beers in hand. He cracked one open and passed it to me before opening his own.

"Trying to get me drunk again?" I smiled as I took a swig of the ice-cold beer.

"Seems like you might have needed it, but figured you wouldn't want to look at whiskey right now."

He wasn't wrong. I'd woken up that morning with a pounding headache and a rolling stomach. "I did not miss hangovers as a ghost."

"Little hair of the dog, and you'll be fine." I was silent but could feel Dean watching me, assessing. "Cas says Michelle seems better. She could wake up soon."

"That's good. Any luck with the research?"

"Nothing solid yet. Cas is back out looking for more, like you guys."

"Bobby will love that. More of us crammed in his space."

"We're working on that too." Dean turned to lean against the porch post facing me. "So, you said we're a TV show where you're from, huh?"

I appreciated the change in topic and smiled, "yeah, very loyal...but small following."

Dean nodded his head smiling, "loyal you say?"

"Yup, some fans even have the tattoo." I nodded my head at his chest.

"Do you?" Dean's eyes scanned what skin I had visible and I felt myself blush. Blushing was another thing I did not miss when I was a ghost.
"No! But now that I'm here...well seems like we should probably work on that sooner than later."

"We can figure that out when Michelle is awake. For now, Bobby probably has some spare charms around if you're worried." Dean looked out over the scrap yard, "so you've seen it all?"

"Well, what a 40-minute show would show. Enough for us to know you two have literally been to hell and back and all that in between. Enough to know that what we're facing is terrifying and we should be scared shitless."

"I never got why people read the books, and I really don't get why people would want to watch us. This." Dean motioned at himself and the house.

I smirked, "well, a lot of fans don't watch for the plot."

He looked over at me alarmed but then amused. "And you?"

"I was always a horror fan, but I definitely watched for more than the plot." I smiled while internally freaking out that I just admitted to Dean my attraction to both him and his brother. I quickly added, "besides, the family dynamics. The brotherly bond. That's what really kept me, and Michelle, hooked."

"Did you have siblings?" Dean was still staring at me, a slight smile on his lips.

"A brother. Not close like you and Sam." I paused, allowing myself a moment to think about my family, "I was supposed to be an aunt, but died before that happened. I was there for the birth, but not."

"I'm sorry."

"Can't change the past. I'm thankful I could still experience some of it. Before it got too hard. I eventually took off and decided to do some sightseeing. The show films in Canada."

"Canada? Seriously? Sam and I have barely gone to Canada. Little hard crossing borders."

"Yeah. Well, the show is shot in Vancouver, but based in the US, like you really are. I'd never been far beyond my home alive, always too expensive to fly on my budget. As a ghost though? No restrictions. I saw a lot I wouldn't have seen alive. Quickly realized it wasn't the same though. You can't touch things. Experiences are muted. You don't feel the ocean breeze on your face, you can't breathe in the crisp air of the mountains."

Dean gave me an indescribable look, something playing behind his eyes. "So you're human now. We settle all this, you can go anywhere. Where do you go?"

It was an innocent question. Probably also Dean trying to figure out where he and Sam could dump me if we all survived this. It was also a question about a future I was actively trying not to think of, or more accurately, hope for. My face fell and I suddenly fought back tears. I could see Dean watching me closely. I swallowed and took a deep breath to attempt to steady myself. I knew my voice would be shaky when I spoke. I decided to do what I always did when things got serious. Joke. "Maybe Disneyworld. I could work at the haunted mansion. I've got the resume for being a ghost."

Dean laughed, his laugh lines pronounced, probably relieved he didn't have to deal with a girl breaking down into tears. "I haven't been to Disney ever. Sam and I always joke about it, but never made it happen."

"Well, saving the world tends to be more pressing than riding teacups." I could still hear the tremble in my voice but was getting it under control.

Dean opened his mouth, about to ask another question when Jane appeared at the screen door, "she is awake".

[tbc]