Dean was worried about Ali. It was as simple as that. She'd been acting strangely for weeks now and he wasn't sure why. Sam had suggested that maybe the hunting was getting too much, along with the fact that she was still grieving over the loss of her parents. Sam had also thought that maybe some of it was his fault - that maybe everything that was going on with Sam's visions was heightening the stress Ali was feeling.
Dean disagreed strongly with this opinion. He knew Ali. She was strong. Strong enough to deal with everything that was going on. She had thicker skin than most, but then what could explain the sudden stress that seemed to occupy her mind at all times? The forgetfulness? The exhaustion and anxiety that radiated off of her?
And then there was what had happened a few nights ago.
It was the night after they'd exorcised Meg from Sam's body and the three of them had spent the night at Bobby's place. The older hunter had gone out. Dean couldn't remember why. After getting shot in the shoulder, he'd drunk most of the bottle of whisky that Bobby had given him. He'd left Sam downstairs in the kitchen. It was clear the younger Winchester wasn't going to be getting any sleep that night, no matter how much Dean tried to persuade him to. As he ascended the stairs, all Dean wanted to do was go to bed, but something, maybe instinct, made him walk in the opposite direction down the hall towards Ali's room.
He tried the handle first, but it was locked. She tended to do that. It didn't make Dean think that anything out of the ordinary was going on. All he'd wanted to do was check on her, to see if she was doing okay after the day's ordeals. It wasn't easy for any of them seeing Sam's body being used as a puppet.
Dean turned to leave, but then something caught his attention. He could hear someone moving around inside. He turned back, pressing his ear to the door.
"Ali?" he'd murmured through the door, before a blood curdling scream echoed through the house. Dean went into hunter mode, jamming his elbow into the door to try and force it open.
"Ali!" he yelled. Was there someone in her room with her? Maybe another demon? She wouldn't stop screaming. She sounded terrified and in pain. Dean could hear footsteps on the stairs and he knew it was Sam. However, he didn't wait for his brother to be by his side before he kicked the door in, adrenaline pumping through his veins, ready to fight.
He'd stopped dead in his tracks. Out of all the things he'd expected to see, what he saw wouldn't have even been on the list. Dean felt his brother's presence behind him as he stepped into the room. They both stared. Stared at the blonde girl who was sleeping soundlessly in her bed. There was no demon. No screaming anymore. She looked peaceful, and from the rise and fall of her chest, Dean knew she was alive.
They didn't tell Bobby about the incident. Sam had wanted to, but Dean had convinced him otherwise. In fact, they didn't tell Ali about it either. In trying to determine what could've happened, the Winchesters had decided it was a nightmare. That was plausible. Ali had more than her fair share of reasons to have scream worthy nightmares. But Dean didn't really believe it was just a nightmare, and he didn't think Sam did either.
"Ready to go," Sam asked, pulling Dean from his thoughts. He and Sam had headed out to a diner for some food when they'd arrived in St Charles, Minnesota that night. They'd left Ali in her motel room since she's said she wanted to get some rest. At first, Dean hadn't wanted to leave her alone, but then Sam had insisted that she'd be fine for an hour or two. Besides, it had given the Winchesters a chance to discuss her situation.
"Yeah," Dean replied, pulling out his wallet and dropping a twenty on the table. He winced as he stood, rubbing his left shoulder where it still hadn't fully healed from the gunshot wound he had received from Sam when he'd been possessed by Meg.
They headed out quickly, taking the Impala back to the motel. Tomorrow, they needed to start working properly on the case. They'd stumbled upon the hunt earlier that day, having discovered that a young woman had gone missing whilst on a date with her boyfriend. The report had stated that the young couple had heard a funny noise as they walked home on night. Before the man knew what was happening, his girlfriend had disappeared.
"Get some rest," Dean told Sam as they walked down the corridor to their room. "I'm gonna check on Ali." Sam nodded tiredly and headed into the room. Since that night, the elder Winchester had made it a habit to always check on her before he went to bed.
Dean crossed the corridor, knocking twice on the door before he opened it. "Ali?" he called as he entered the room. He glanced to the bed, expecting to see the girl sleeping soundlessly under the covers. The bed was empty. He stepped fully into the room, letting the door slam shut behind him as he flicked on the lights. "Ali?"
The bathroom door swung open, revealing the girl in question. At the sight of her, Dean released a breath he didn't realised he'd been holding. She stumbled into the room, her hand fumbling for the handle to close the bathroom door. "Sorry, I thought you'd be asleep," Dean said, his brow furrowing when he noticed that the girl was still dressed in her clothes from the day. She was even still wearing her combat boots.
"Couldn't sleep," Ali said, her words slurring as she made her way to the bed, her movements making it look like she was struggling to put one foot in front of the other. Dean watched her cautiously, his eyes shifting over to the half empty bottle of whisky on the bed side table. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"Are you drunk?" he asked incredulously. Ali rolled her eyes as she grabbed the bottle.
"Don't be so dramatic," she drawled taking a sip from the bottle and banging it back on the side. Dean stared at her, feeling a flash of anger and most of all shock.
"What the hell, Ali?" he asked in a raised voice.
"What? So it's okay for Sam to get wasted on a hunt but when it's me you get all pissy?" she asked, referring to one of the last hunts at the haunted hotel where Sam had drowned his sorrows with some hard liquor. Dean raised a brow as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"You're seventeen, Ali. It's not okay for you to get wasted. Period." She rolled her eyes again as Dean made his way over to her, grabbing the bottle from the night stand. The blonde girl wobbled on her feet as she tried to kick off her boots.
"Don't tell me what to do," the girl mumbled defiantly, her limbs not coordinating properly and causing her to stumble to the ground.
"What's that?" Dean asked as he stared down at her on the floor.
"I said, don't tell me what to do," Ali repeated through gritted teeth. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, slamming the bottle into the dresser.
"Well someone's got to," Dean said. Ali scoffed. "You wanna be a hunter? Quit acting like a brat." Ali scowled at him. "Your attitude sucks." Dean felt a hint of regret at his words when Ali's gaze fell, her head falling into her hands, though that could've been more to do with the headache that was inevitably coming on. He sighed as his features softened, bending down to help the girl to her feet. She flinched when his hand contacted her arm.
"Don't touch me," she through gritted teeth. She looked a mess and although Dean didn't want to upset her, she really was in no condition to protect.
"You need to go to bed," he said with a sigh, coming around behind her and placing his hands under her arms. "Come on," he muttered as he pulled her up as gently as possible. She staggered to the bed once he had her standing, her limbs suddenly growing floppy as the full force of her exhaustion mixed with alcohol hit her. He pulled the covers over her, not bothering to help her undress. She could do that herself in the morning.
"Sorry," she muttered as her eyes fell shut. Dean sighed as he made his way to the door, grabbing the bottle on the way and flicking out the lights.
"Get some rest, kiddo."
After what Dean had told him the night before, Sam wasn't surprised to find Ali throwing up in the bathroom the next morning. Dean had made it clear that he didn't particularly want to interact with the teenager that morning. Sam had even heard him mumbling to himself how he was sick of her attitude and reckless behaviour. That was why the younger Winchester had taken it upon himself to check in on Ali before they headed out.
She exited the bathroom when she saw him, wiping a hand across her mouth and flopping down on the bed on her back, her feet hanging off the end.
"Feeling alright?" Sam asked. She shot him a glare causing Sam to chuckle. "Yeah, hangovers suck."
"I don't know what happened," she groaned, massaging her aching skull. "I couldn't sleep. And I knew Dean had a bottle in your room. I just needed to clear my head. All I can think about is that damn demon." Sam raised a brow at her. "Meg? She got away?" Sam nodded in understanding. "I know she knows something about Tyler's death," she said. "Maybe she even knows which demon did it."
"Ali," Sam said with a sigh. "We'll find Meg. We'll find the demon who killed your brother."
"How?" she asked, sitting up on the bed and throwing her arms in the air. "He's been dead for nearly seven years. The only demon I've ever met who knows anything is gone. How are we gonna find out what happened with no leads?"
"It's our job," Sam replied. "We'll get the demon who did it." Ali wanted to argue. She wanted to shake her head in denial at him and scream that they would never find the demon even if they hunted it for one hundred years. But there was something sincere in the younger Winchester's eyes, and Ali couldn't help but believe his every word. She nodded slowly and Sam shot her a tight-lipped smile. She sighed, trying to shake off the heaviness she felt.
"So how mad is he?" Sam knew she was asking about Dean.
"He's not mad," Sam replied nonchalantly, pulling out a plastic bottle filled with a strange green concoction. Ali grimaced at it as he unscrewed the cap. "Drink, it'll help with the head." Ali took the bottle wearily as Sam sat down next to her on the bed.
"It smells repulsive," she said as her nostrils flared.
"Yeah it doesn't taste any better," he muttered. "Drink." Ali sighed and took a sip, her face twisting in disgust at the vile liquid as it ran over her taste buds.
"Remind me to never get drunk again," she said, causing Sam to chuckle as he saluted a finger at her. "He's mad, isn't he?"
"He's not mad, Ali," Sam replied consistently.
"I can tell you're lying," she pointed out.
"Oh?"
"You're always extra nice to me when I've done something to piss Dean off," she revealed. Sam chuckled.
"I promise he isn't mad." Another lie. Ali decided to ignore it. She knew he was just trying to make her feel better. In fact, it surprised her how relaxed Sam seemed around her that morning. Recently, it'd been like he was walking on eggshells around her. She took another big gulp from the bottle before she decided she was done with Sam's homemade hangover cure. She didn't even want to ask what was in it.
"Is Dean around?" she asked, climbing to her feet. "We should probably get going on the case."
"The case?" Sam questioned. "Don't you think it would be best to stay here? I'm sure Dean would-."
"Would what, Sam?" She raised her brows at him in mock confusion. "All that's gonna happen if I stay is Dean will make some snarky comment about drinking on the job and that he would've called Bobby but he'd only be disappointed." She spoke the latter half of her sentence in a low, gruff tone as if to imitate the elder Winchester's voice.
"Yeah, you're probably right," he replied. There was a moment of silence between the two as they sat side by side, both staring at the wall ahead of them. They were both tired. They both knew they needed to get going on the case, but neither had the energy or will power to move. It was as if they were both being crushed by the weight of whatever was happening to the other. Things that neither of them really understood.
Ali released a breath.
"We should go," she said, standing up before handing the half empty bottle back to the younger Winchester. "Thanks, Sam."
"Any time," he muttered, following her out of the room.
The Impala didn't exactly give the most inconspicuous vantage point for a stake-out, but it was good enough for what they needed. The Winchester brothers were dressed in their FBI suits, waiting for the boyfriend of the victim to make it home from his job at the diner.
Sam had argued that the formal stake-out wasn't necessary, but Dean had insisted on it. Ali thought it was probably because it gave an excuse for the awkward silence that would've inevitably filled the car, accompanied by passive aggressive looks from Dean through the rear-view mirror. This way, they had a reason to be silent and a target, outside the car, to focus on.
"Here he comes," Dean muttered to himself as he peered through the binoculars. The young man exited his car and made his way towards the front door.
"He sure looks like a prick," he heard Ali mutter from the back seat as the man disappeared into the house.
"You barely got a glimpse of him," Dean shot back, staring ahead at the closed door. "Let's go." His words were directed at Sam, and he made sure Ali knew that.
"I guess I'll wait in the car then," he heard her mumble bitterly as he and Sam climbed out of the Impala.
"Try not to throw up on my seats," he said coldly, slamming the door behind him and striding off towards the house.
"Was that really necessary?" Sam asked as he caught up with his brother.
"No," Dean replied. "But it did make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside." Sam rolled his eyes at the sarcastic comment. He knew Dean wouldn't like Ali coming on the case with them, but he'd also agreed with the girl when she said Dean wouldn't like it if she didn't come as well. Either way, when Dean was pissed off, any decision was the wrong one.
Dean knocked on the door and it only took a few moments before the young man opened the door.
"Scott Kelley?" Dean asked, flashing his fake identification badge at the kid. He nodded. "My name is Agent Bell, this is my partner Agent Peterman. We're here to talk to you about the incident the other night."
"I already told the police everything I know," he said defensively.
"We know," Sam replied. "We just want to clarify a few details. Can we come in?" There was a moment whilst Scott looked between the two brothers apprehensively, before nodding and stepping aside.
"Could you tell us what happened on the night Celia Reyes went missing?" Dean asked when they'd made it to the kitchen. Scott took a seat at the table, his fingers drumming nervously on the surface.
"Celia and I were walking home after the movies. My car had a flat tire and it we weren't that far away from my house. We went down this alley to get home when we heard this noise."
"What kind of noise?" Sam asked with a frown.
"It was like a scratching noise. Celia freaked, so I went on ahead to see what it was." He paused, his eyes growing sad. "When I turned around, she was just gone."
"And Celia was your girlfriend?" Dean clarified.
"Yeah," Scott confirmed. "We'd only been dating about two months."
"And on the night that she disappeared, did you notice anything else out of the ordinary?"
"You mean besides my girlfriend's disappearance into thin air?" he asked incredulously. "No. Nothing else but the noise. Up until that point, everything was perfect."
"Right," Sam said, shooting the kid a sad smile. "That's all we needed. I'm sorry for your loss." Scott nodded in thanks before showing Sam and Dean out. As the pair walked back to the Impala, their minds were focused on what Scott had said. He was the only witness to the apparent abduction of his girlfriend. Whatever had taken her hadn't left any evidence behind, meaning that apart from the 'scratching noise' Scott had heard, they didn't have much to go on. They'd need clearer indications as to what was going on if they were going to be able to find out what had happened to the young woman.
"So you didn't try to get anything else outta him?" Ali asked with raised brows at she stared at the Winchesters across the diner table. After working on the case for a few hours back at the motel room, they'd decided to head out for some food. Dean and Ali had still barely spoken apart from about details of the case that Dean was growing more and more resistant to share with the girl.
"We were checking facts," Sam replied. "Not interrogating him."
"You should've," she replied under her breath. "They guy looked shady as fuck at the door." Dean shot her a dirty look, silently chastising her for her language. He never usually acted as the swearing police, but he was already in a pissed off mood.
"He's not a suspect," Sam continued.
"Well maybe he should be," Ali argued. "I mean, who leaves their girlfriend alone when they hear a creepy noise down a dark alley?"
"That doesn't make him guilty," Dean cut in with a sigh. "Let's get outta here. I don't wanna be stuck in this town all weekend."
Sam stayed to pay for the food as Ali and Dean headed out of the diner to pick up the car. As they were about to clamber into the Impala, Ali spoke up.
"Hey, isn't that him?" she asked. Dean looked up to spot the kid dressed in a similar uniform to the waiters and waitresses in the diner they had just left.
"Must have another shift," Dean commented. He watched as the kid walked closer and ducked into the car, not wanting him to notice them there. Things could get awkward if he did.
"Let's go say hi," he heard Ali mutter, much to his annoyance.
"Great idea," he said sarcastically. "Why don't I go have sex with a vampire too." He shivered at the thought. "Come on, let's go." He was about to start the engine when he realised Ali wasn't getting in the car.
"Ali, come on," he called, looking behind and out of the back window to see that she was no longer standing next to the Impala. "Dammit," he muttered, unbuckling his belt and getting out of the car. "Hey, get back here," he yelled, watching as Ali approached Scott across the street. She didn't listen. He rubbed a hand across when Scott noticed her, realised it was too late to make their inconspicuous getaway. However, it wasn't until he noticed the blonde teen shove the young man against the wall that he ran over.
"Hey!" he shouted as he got closer, his fury with the girl's behaviour starting to boil over.
"Why would you leave her alone, huh?" she was shouting at him through gritted teeth. It was only then that Dean caught sight of the silver knife that was pressed to Scott's throat. His blood ran cold. "Did you kill her?"
"No, I swear," the man whimpered. "I had nothing to do with it!"
"You're lying!"
"Hey, easy!" Dean warned, his arms outstretched towards the girl as he tried to coax her into backing down. "Drop the knife, Ali."
"You know this crazy bitch?" Scott asked as she pressed the blade harder against him.
"Shut up!" she yelled in his face. "I know he's guilty, Dean. I can feel it."
"This isn't how we do things," he told her, trying desperately not to set her off. "Just put down the knife." She didn't show any indication of budging. Dean heard footsteps behind him and he knew it was Sam. "Come on, let him go."
"No," she said defiantly. "I'm no letting another monster get away." She spat the words like they tasted vulgar on her lips.
"Ali, what're you going?" Sam asked.
"What needs to be done." Her dark eyes flickered towards the man beneath her blade. "Now tell me what you know!"
"Ali!" Dean barked at her. "Stand down! For god sakes, you have no proof that this guy's done anything."
"Dean's right," Sam said, his voice calm. "Come on, put the knife down," he said. "Let him go." There was a pause, a deafening silence where the seconds seemed to elongate to infinite lengths. Then, finally, Ali loosened her grip on the young man and let her silver knife fall to the ground. Sam stepped forwards tentatively, kicking the knife away on the ground before pulling her away.
Dean wasted no time in grabbing the girl by the arm and yanking her across the street towards the Impala.
"What the hell was that!" he shouted at her. "You know what, I don't wanna hear it. Just get in the car and cool off." She didn't need to be asked twice. Once they'd reached the car, Ali slid into the backseat and let Dean slam the door behind her. The elder Winchester braced himself against the frame of the car, trying to make his anxieties drain away. She'd just held a witness at knife point. That was a whole different level to what had been going on before.
He turned around, catching Sam's eye across the street who was consoling a shaken and confused Scott. One nod told him that his brother would take care of the situation whilst he dealt with the teenager in the backseat.
"What's going on with you, Ali," Dean asked the girl as he slammed the motel toom door. She stood before him in the clothes she'd warn the previous day. She looked like shit but she still looked like Ali. Other than that, the girl was unrecognisable to him. The silent car ride back to the motel had been agony. Now he wanted some answers. "I mean, what the hell was that back there? You acted like a frickin crazy person."
"I'm sick, Dean," she said through gritted teeth. Dean huffed. Her eyes were cast down to the floor in what seemed like anger but Dean couldn't be sure. He stared at her quizzically, trying to figure her out.
"What? You got a migraine or something?" Dean asked. She laughed humourlessly. The sound was cold. Absent.
"No I haven't got a migraine," Ali spat as if the suggestion of it disgusted her. "I'm sick of you and Sam and Bobby." She was shaking now, not with cold but with a violent anger. "I'm sick of you telling me what to do."
"Is that what this is?" Dean said, starting to get irritated. "Is this some kind of teenage rebellion? You wanna do what you want when you want?"
"No, this is about me wanting you to get the hell out of my life!" She yelled. Dean stared at her. Her words would have hurt him had her recent mood swings not shaken him so much. He didn't know who he was talking to. Whoever it was, it wasn't his Ali.
"This ain't you talking, kiddo," he replied as he shook his head. He tried to keep his voice low, but still clear.
"I can't do it any more, Dean," she said, her voice so broken Dean could hardly bare to hear it. "I can't drive around with you and Sam every day not knowing what's gonna happen. I have to be able to control- I can't control any of it." Her eyes were wild as she spoke. "I'm trapped, Dean. And you and Sam are there all the time in my head just screaming at me and I - I can't -."
"Ali, you're - you're not making any sense," Dean said, his brow furrowed in concern as he stepped closer to her. He was desperate to understand.
"I just need you to leave, okay, you have to leave, just- just get out, okay - get out of my head!" she screamed at him. She breathed heavily as she grappled at her hair as if she was in agony.
"Ali, I can't understand you-."
"I said get out!" she yelled with all the force in her lungs. She grabbed the half empty whisky bottle on the side table and smashed it against the wall. Dean shielded his eyes from the splintering glass.
'Woah, whoa, Ali!' he shouted. She screamed again, a pained, agitated scream that was almost animalistic. Dean watched as she kicked at the wall before sending a fist into the mirror hanging on the wall. "Calm down!" he barked at her as the mirror smashed, the shards cutting her hands.
She stood facing the wall, her forehead resting on the broken mirror. She was eerily still that Dean wondered if she was even breathing.
"Ali?" Dean said softly as he approached her. He reached out a hand, tentatively placing it on her shoulder so he could turn her to face him. Silent tears had dragged the mascara down her cheeks, leaving trails of inky black. Her eyes were empty like whatever was left inside of her had drained away.
"What's wrong with me?" she asked, her voice almost inaudible. Dean's eyes grew misty with concern as he studied her.
"I dunno, kiddo," he replied, "but we're gonna figure it out, okay?" He tried to reassure her but he wasn't even convinced of it himself. "You're gonna be just fine."
"What happened?" Sam asked down the phone. Dean had called his brother after what had happened to see if he had any ideas as to what was going on.
"I dunno, she just went all crazy on me," Dean replied, his voice hushed. "She was going on about control and hearing voices."
"Voices?" Sam asked with concern. "You think hallucinations?"
"I dunno," Dean said, scratching his thinly stubbled jaw. He hadn't gotten around to shaving in almost a week. "She said she could hear me and you yelling at her in her head."
"Us? Is that exactly what she said?"
"Sam, she wasn't exactly having a whole lotta sense," Dean said. "Took be almost twenty minutes to calm her down enough to fix up her hands."
"Her hands?" Sam asked in surprise.
"Yeah, she put her fist through the mirror," he said. "So, we better be prepared for all the crap we're gonna have for the next seven years." Sam chuckled drily down the phone.
"I talked to Scott. He's gonna keep his mouth shut about the whole thing," he said.
"Good," Dean replied. "That's something, I guess."
"Do you want me to drive over?" Sam asked. "I mean, I haven't gotten much further on the case yet but I could be back at the hotel in couple of hours."
"She's sleeping right now," Dean said, glancing over the Ali's small form on the motel bed. "But I don't wanna leave her alone, ya know?"
"Do you want to drop the case?" Sam asked. He sighed.
"No, I don't want to," Dean admitted. "But I think it would be best to sit this one out, right?"
"Okay," Sam replied. "I'll call Ash and see if he can get someone to take over. I'll be there soon."
"Great," Dean said, about to hang up.
"Hey Dean?" Sam said quickly. Dean waited expectantly on the line. "We're gonna figure this out," he said, trying to reassure his brother. "The worst is over, right?"
"Right," Dean replied before they said goodbye and hung up. Dean looked across the motel room to the exhausted girl. Although he wanted to believe his brother, he somehow knew that the worst was not over. In fact, he was sure that they had no idea about how bad things were going to get.
Dean was woken by the sound of the motel door clicking shut. He looked up from the armchair he had been sleeping in to spot the silhouette of Sam by the door.
"Dean?" he heard Sam whisper.
"Hmm," Dean grunted as he blinked through the darkened room. "Yeah?"
"How's she doing?" Sam asked as he rested his bag on the floor. Dean rubbed his eyes as he glanced over to Ali's unconscious form on the bed furthest from the door.
"Sleeping like a baby," he replied. Sam nodded.
"Okay, I'm gonna crash," Sam said with a yawn. "You want the other bed?"
"Nah I'm good," Dean said, folding his arms as he sunk back into the arm chair.
He was so exhausted that the whole conversation had been fuzzy. He closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to consume him once again.
To Dean, it seemed like the phone call came almost as soon as he had drifted off. His eyes snapped open in alarm, and he squinted as they adjusted to the light streaming into the room under the blinds.
He stood up, taking a moment to get his bearings. Before he even looked at his phone he noticed something that made his stomach drop to the floor.
Ali was gone.
"Would you answer that," Sam said groggily from his bed. Dean snapped out of his sleepy daze, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Sam," he said, trying to get his brother's attention. "Sam!"
"What?" Sam asked, irritated that Dean had interrupted his sleep. The ringing of the phone had stopped now.
"Ali's gone," Dean said, urgently running to the door to see if she was outside. His eyes skimmed the trashy veranda. There was no sign of the blonde girl. He stormed back into the room.
"What do you mean, she's gone?" Sam asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"I mean she's fucking gone, Sam!" Dean yelled, gesturing to the empty bed where Ali once lay.
"You think she ran off?" Sam asked, shoving his feet into his shoes. "That's not like her."
"She's not herself," Dean said. "Last night, you should've seen her." He paused, thinking back to when she had smashed the whisky bottle against the wall. "It's was like... hell I dunno what it was." Dean shook his head.
The phone rang again, the sound of it causing Dean to become even more agitated. You had one job, he thought to himself. All you had to do was keep her safe. Keep her safe for Bobby. He contemplated calling him but he knew getting him involved would make things worse. The phone kept ringing.
"For god sakes, Sam, would you shut that thing up," Dean barked. "I'm trying to think!" But Sam didn't reply. He was staring at the phone. "Sam?"
"Dean," he replied, holding up the mobile to his brother so he could see the screen. "I think it's her."
Dean grabbed the phone out of Sam's hand before he could even process what was happening. He answered straight away.
"Ali?" he asked down the line. It was silent, the only noise he could hear was what seemed like laboured breathing. "Ali, is that you?"
"Dean?" a small voice replied on the other end.
"Thank god," he breathed. "Ali, where are you? I'm coming to pick you up," Dean asked frantically.
"I- I'm not sure, I-I don't know where I am," she replied. Dean realised from the tone of her voice why she was stuttering: she was terrified.
"It's okay, it's okay," he repeated, more for himself than anyone else. "What can you see?" he asked, trying to get an idea of where she might be.
"Um, I'm inside," she said, ending her sentence with a groan.
"Ali, are you hurt?" Dean asked, dreading the answer. Sam motioned to him to put it on speaker. He did.
"I'm, I'm okay," she replied, trying to be reassuring but Dean could tell she was lying.
"Ali," he warned in a low voice. "What's wrong?" He shut his eyes, dreading her answer. From her ragged breath, he knew she was in agony. He just hoped the damage wasn't fatal.
"I-I'm bleeding," she whimpered out. "I think I've been shot." Dean squeezed the bridge of his nose with his free hand, panic starting to rise in his chest. Sam was silent. Dean was too for a moment as he punched the fear down, trying to figure out what to do.
"Okay," he said quietly as he took a deep breath. "Okay, Ali, I'm gonna need you to keep pressure on that," he said. "Me and Sam are gonna come and get you." There was a beat. "I'm coming to get you." There was silence down the other end. "Ali, you with me?"
"Yeah," she breathed out finally.
"Okay, good," Dean said again, trying to keep his voice steady. "Now can you tell me what you remember from last night?"
"I don't remember anything," Ali replied, her voice terrified.
"Do you have any idea where you are?" Sam said suddenly, speaking up for the first time.
"I dunno - I-I think it's some kind of warehouse."
"A warehouse?" Dean asked. "Is there anything else?"
"I can't-," and then the line went dead. Dean stared at the phone, his eyes wide as he thought of what state Ali was in - confused, bleeding and alone. He frantically dialled her number again, almost throwing the phone against the wall when the was no answer.
"Right, come on," he told Sam, grabbing his coat as he made for the door.
"Dean, wait," Sam said. Dean turned from the door expectantly. "Let's think about this for a second."
"What's there to think about?" Dean asked incredulously. All he could think about was how he needed to get to Ali as soon as possible.
"I mean, for starters, how did she even get shot?" Sam asked. Dean frowned at him. Why was he asking questions like this? They were running out of time.
"I dunno, some random psycho could've got her," Dean suggested.
"What? You think she got kidnapped out of the room?"
"I dunno, why don't we ask when we find her," Dean snapped at his brother.
"Dean, the only way Ali would've got outta the motel without us waking up is if she walked out herself," Sam said. Dean shook his head.
"What are you trying to say, Sam? Are you saying she's lying?" he asked incredulously. He could believe what he was hearing. They needed to go. Now. They needed to find Ali.
"No, I'm just saying we should think about this before we go out, guns blazing," Sam suggested. Dean scoffed.
"I'm not gonna sit around in a motel room thinking whilst she bleeds out!" Dean yelled, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door.
"I'm not asking you to do that," Sam called after him. Dean huffed.
"Well how about this?" Dean started. "You can stay here and think about whatever the hell you want. I'm going."
"Dean," Sam said warningly. "We both know that whatever's going on with Ali has been going on a while. You saw what happened yesterday with Scott. And I know you don't want to admit it, but Ali could be dangerous!"
"She'd just a kid, Sam," Dean said, shaking his head. "I'm going to find her." He slammed the motel room door behind him as he left. He heard Sam shout his name as he walked away but the younger Winchester didn't come after him.
That was fine by Dean. If Sam didn't want to help him find Ali, he'd just have to find her himself.
The Impala pulled up outside the abandoned warehouse, the engine grinding to a halt before Dean pulled the ignition. He quickly got out, grabbing the gun from the glove compartment and shoving it in the holster at his hip.
He wasn't one hundred percent sure that the warehouse before him was where he would find the frightened girl, but somehow, he knew it. As he approached the rusted door, he heard a strangled cough, confirming what he had thought.
Dean yanked the door open, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the cold metal. Inside it was freezing, each breath releasing a thin fog into the darkened room.
"Ali!" he yelled, startled by the amount his voice echoed through the silent building. "Ali!" There was no reply, but Dean could have sworn he could hear the distant sound of breathing.
He walked closer into the building, passing the rows of metal fencing and dishevelled machinery that looked like it hadn't been used in decades. Something about the situation didn't feel right. He had been sure that Ali would be here, so, where was she? Dean hoped the reason she hadn't replied to his shouts were not because she had fallen unconscious from blood loss.
He moved further through the metallic jungle, punching though chain linked gates and avoiding the sharp coils of barbed wire.
That was when he heard it. The faint sound of someone calling his name. Before the noise had really registered in his mind he was sprinting in its direction, coming to a clearing in the warehouse floor. Ali was still nowhere to be seen.
A moment of confusion passed through him as he stared at the empty room. Suddenly, there was a step behind him, causing Dean to whirl around. But before he could retrieve his gun from the holster, something hard collided with the side of his head and he fell to the ground.
Dean could only comprehend two things in the time he had before blacking out. The first was a flash of blonde hair in front of him, causing confusion and panic to flare inside of him. The second followed the first and made Dean regret leaving his brother in the motel room: Sam had been right.
AN: Hope you liked that chapter. What do you think is going on with Ali and what do you think will happen over the next few chapters?
Also, did everyone enjoy the Season 12 finale? So much drama!
Thanks for reading :)
Let me know what you thought, much love x
