The bed wasn't her own, and it was lumpy. Ali had resorted to laying a folded double duvet across the single mattress to improve the feeling so she could sleep. Even then, she didn't find it easy to drift off.

The second day at the roadhouse had been fairly nondescript. She helped Jo to clear and wipe down the tables, along with getting customers drinks when they wanted them. The third day passed similarly. All Ali could think about were the hunters who'd jumped her on her first day. Jo was right, they hadn't been back, and neither had her unidentified saviour for that matter. Ali was beginning to wonder if she'd imagined him altogether. It was strange. It'd seemed like he knew her, yet she had no idea who he was.

She rolled over in bed. The small room was directly adjacent to Ash's and he'd been snoring loudly for the last half an hour or so. Not ideal. She wouldn't complain about it though. He and Ellen had been nothing but nice to her and, much to Ali's relief, they hadn't brought up the incident of the first night since it happened. Ali thought it a little odd considering how angry Ellen had been about it.

"You keep that knife hidden, you hear me?" she'd told Ali sternly, before turning to address Ash and Jo. "And if anyone so much as breathes the name Venator in this roadhouse, I'll ring all ya necks."

So since then, Ali had kept the knife firmly in her boot and no one had mentioned her last name. Ash refrained from calling her Miss Venator and Jo kept herself from asking any more questions about her brother or family.

It was strange. Ali had never felt threatened because of who she was. If anything, she'd always thought her family name would protect her. Now, she saw things in a completely different light. She'd spent five years with Bobby, living under the radar after her brother died. People had assumed that maybe she'd died too, not to mention the fact that nobody knew what really happened to her parents. All of a sudden, it was like she'd stepped back into the world when she'd met Sam and Dean. She was back on the map, and people had questions. Others, it seemed, had even greater agendas.

Ali's conversation with Ellen had continued on the first night. The older woman had demanded that Ali tell her everything after Jo and Ash had left the room, and she did. She told her what Meg had said about her brother, of meeting Gordon, of the hex given by a remaining witch of a coven her family had helped destroy, of Sam and Dean finding out about John, and finally retelling the details from her attack that had left her more shaken than she cared to admit. By the end, her breathing was erratic and she couldn't stop the tears that had formed in her eyes from falling.

"Honey, I need you to understand something," Ellen had said seriously as she crouched in front of the teenager, her hands on the girl's knees as she looked up into her crystal blue irises. "Hunters and monsters alike, there's never gonna be a time when somebody ain't looking for you." Ellen's voice had been dead serious, and her eyes had held a certain intensity which frightened the blonde girl. "Your family is more than just well known, Allison. There ain't a soul in the supernatural world that hasn't heard the name Venator."

"What am I supposed to do?" Ali had asked as she sniffed, trying to catch her breath. She was afraid. So afraid. Not just of the people who might be after her, but of what Ellen would say next.

"You can stay here for a few days, and then you go back to Bobby's." Ali frowned as she wiped her eyes.

"And then what?" Ellen had sighed, feeling like the girl before her was a wounded sparrow that she couldn't yet set free. She didn't want to tell this to the girl, but she had to. Deep down, she knew it was the only way to keep her safe.

"And then you stay there." Ali blinked back at the older woman.

"But Bobby's never-."

"Bobby doesn't hear what I hear," Ellen had told her. "Hunters pass through this place pretty regularly, and they talk…"

The rest of the conversation had moved in a similar direction and ever since, a small ember of fear had been instilled inside Allison Venator by Ellen's warning. She didn't want to go back to staying at the salvage yard twenty-four-seven, but deep down, she knew that Ellen was right. There were people after her. Hunters. There was something she had that they wanted, but she just didn't know what. Maybe it was better if she went back to people thinking she was dead. Maybe she was better off being invisible.


Ali left the roadhouse early in the morning a day later. Bobby seemed happy but most of all relieved to see her when she finally made it back to Sioux Falls. The drive was long and Ali felt like curling up in her bed once again. She'd considered not telling him about the hunters that had jumped her outside the roadhouse, but the angry hand print bruise that wrapped around both her wrists proved difficult to explain away. Ali ended up telling him everything that had happened, and to say that the older hunter was worried would be a great understatement.

It was a week before Bobby stopped digging for details regarding the two hunters who'd jumped her. Ali was getting tired of all the questioning, but she knew he'd taken Ellen's warning seriously, and she wondered whether she should too.

The Winchesters still played on Ali's mind. Sam still hadn't returned any of her resent messages and she wasn't sure whether she should be annoyed or concerned about his lack of contact. In her mind, Ali knew they were probably fine. But what if they weren't? What if the yellow-eyed demon had caught up with them?

"Haven't heard a thing in weeks," Bobby replied gruffly when Ali asked if he'd heard from them one day. He'd been reading through a thick and old looking book on Greek deities before Ali disturbed him, a glass of whisky in his hand. The bottle stood on the desk close by. "Look, Al, before you left I hadn't heard from them in years. They're good at their job. Don't worry your mind with it."

Ali wasn't satisfied with Bobby's explanation, and the elder hunter knew it. He sighed deeply as he set his glass down on the desk.

"You wanna know who did call while you were out earlier?" he asked in a lighter tone. Ali folded her arms as she leaned against the door frame, a brow arched in the older hunter's direction. "Tim."

"Tim?" Ali asked as she frowned.

"Yeah, you know? Leslie's boy?" For a moment, Ali had no idea who Bobby was talking about, but after her brain kicked into gear, she suddenly remembered.

"Oh," she replied quietly. "Yeah, Tim." She cleared her throat, straightening up a little as she pictured the mousy-haired boy in grey cotton slacks. "What'd he want?"

"General small talk about nothin' important," Bobby replied, which generally meant that Tim had filled him in on every detail of his life, likely ending in a complaint about whatever job he found himself in now. It was unlikely that Bobby had retained any of it. "He asked about you."

Ali shrugged.

"So?"

"Sounds like he was pretty keen to see ya," Bobby said with a pointed look. Ali rolled her eyes. She'd known Tim for a while, but she wouldn't exactly consider him a friend, and certainly nothing more. He was one of those people that was easy to forget about, mostly because he was entirely ordinary, and not much about Ali's life wasn't remotely ordinary. "You know, he stopped by a few times last year. Asked after you."

"Bobby…"

"I'm just saying, it might not be a bad idea to spend some time with him once in a while," he defended. "He's not a bad kid, Al. It's not a crime to have some friends."

"He's not a hunter, Bobby," Ali argued. It was true that Tim was a nice guy, but he could be so naïve that in practice, Ali found it infuriating to be around him. The kid lived with his mother in Sioux Falls, but the only reason Ali and he had even met was because of Tyler. Because of that, Tim seemed to feel like he and Ali had something in common. In his words, they'd "both lost someone close to them." In fact, this just made Ali feel even more exasperated. Sure, Tim had lost a friend when Tyler died, but that didn't mean he knew what she'd gone through. He'd never understand her life, and although it wasn't his fault, that was the way it was. "I can't be myself around him."

"Give the boy a chance, Allison," Bobby pressed. "Maybe having someone who doesn't know about all this would be good for you?"

"He doesn't know anything," Ali whined. Bobby shot her an unimpressed look. "One time, he asked me if Mossberg and Sons were a boy band."

"So, the kid knows nothing about firearms," the older hunter observed. "Didn't realised that was one of the criteria to be part of your life." Ali glared back at him and Bobby released an exasperated breath. "He used to be around here all the time."

"I know," she replied quietly. "And all he did was talk about Tyler." Bobby's expression grew grave as Ali's eyes brimmed with tears. The pain of losing her brother was still very much a part of her. She was sure it always would be. "I can't-."

"Okay," Bobby replied softly, standing up and squeezing her tense shoulders. She closed her eyes and leaned into him a little, the small gesture giving her all the comfort she needed. "Okay." He pulled away and left the room, calling back at the girl regarding whether she wanted any lunch. Bobby was good in that way. He knew when to press, and he knew when to leave her be.


If there was one thing that Bobby Singer hated, it was a case left unfinished. He liked things to be complete. Signed, sealed and delivered. That was probably why he found the fact that he didn't know what'd happened to Tyler Venator difficult to digest. The kid had been like a son to him before he had mysteriously vanished from a motel room, leaving his younger sister in his care. Bobby probably wanted to get the thing that killed him almost as much as Allison did, but he tried not to let it get to him. He needed to remain stable for Ali's sake. Her grief had crushed her, and not being able to find the answers she was looking for had scarred her further. He couldn't be a solid foundation for her to lean on if he let it break him apart too.

At this time, however, it wasn't the unsolved disappearance of Tyler Venator that was bothering him. It was something much less complex, but equally infuriating.

Bobby had received a call from an old friend of his named Irv Franklin, stating that he'd been in the middle of a case when he'd broken his leg falling down a flight of stairs. The acute fibula fracture had been unrelated to the monster he was hunting, but all the same, the case was left unfinished. Bobby found this news distressing, not because he was worried for his hospitalised friend, but because he knew he now had some cleaning up to do.

Irv had assured him he'd already done all the hard work. It was a textbook case of a vengeful spirit and he'd already located the burial site of the man who'd been murdered in the seventies and not found peace. All Bobby needed to do was to drive down to the Mount Auburn Cemetery in Nebraska, do some grave excavation and salt and burn the bones. It seemed easy enough, but he wasn't going without protection.

The older hunter sat in his study as he filled shotgun shells with salt. He'd also grabbed a fire iron from the stand beside the fire place. The thing felt heavy in his hands, the memories of what it'd been used for still fresh in his mind. Finishing off the case shouldn't take him long. He hoped to be back before the morning.

"Where're you going?" Bobby jumped at the sound of Ali's voice behind him. He sighed, turning around and catching her eye for a second before looking back to his weapon.

"Douglass County," he replied, loading his shotgun and zipping it up inside a bag. He turned to face her again to see that she'd raised a questioning brow at him, though her eyes seemed distant. Distracted. "Salt and burn. Shouldn't take too long." Ali nodded, looking as if she was going to turn around and go back upstairs. To Bobby's surprise, she didn't.

"You need any help?" she offered, her eyes lighting up for a second.

"It's easy enough for one," he replied, hesitant to invite her along. "You don't have to-."

"I want to," Ali said quickly. Bobby noticed that her eyes were no longer bright. They were pleading, begging him to let her come. She needed this. Perhaps he did too.

"Alright," he agreed, causing a small smile to pull at the blonde girl's lips. "Alright." He repeated the word again before handing her the shotgun he'd already loaded. He didn't need to ask if she could handle the weapon. He knew from experience that she could. "How rusty are ya?"

"I'm not," she replied, somewhat defensively. Ali may not have hunted in a while, but she'd been practising in the yard whenever she could to maintain her high standard of accuracy and precision. Bobby considered her for a moment, chuckling a little to himself at how serious she had become in recent times.

"Okay," Bobby said, nodding his head at her. "Why don't you get your stuff. I wanna get this over with." Ali agreed and quickly darted upstairs. The older hunter watched her go. It seemed like only yesterday that she was three years old, her small frame struggling to climb the steep staircase after her brother. In the same way, those times seemed infinitely distant. So much had changed since then, both in his life and hers.


The shovel embedded itself in the dirt, cutting through the layers of mud and wet clay. Bobby pulled back, tipping the earth into the pile that had accumulated beside the headstone. It was dark in the cemetery, but the crescent moon was low in the sky and the light cut through the trees casting long shadows on the grass.

He paused, glancing up at the seventeen-year-old above him. Her eyes were pearly in the moonlight as they scanned the fence line and her fingers were curled tightly around the loaded shotgun.

"You wanna switch?" Bobby asked, staking the shovel into the ground and climbing out of the hole he'd been digging. His question wasn't really a request. The digging was almost finished but Bobby was tired. He wasn't as young as he used to be. It was his turn to keep watch.

Ali jumped a little when Bobby clapped her on the shoulder, her mind too distracted by the threat of a vengeful spirit to notice him stop digging. Bobby thought that maybe the hunt they were on wasn't the only thing on her mind.

He gently pulled the shotgun from her hands and gestured to the shovel. She nodded quickly, agilely jumping down into the grave to continue the work. Bobby's finger was braced on the trigger as he scanned the yard, his eyes casting over every gravestone and dark shadow. He glanced at the blonde girl as she made quick word of the shovelling. She'd been unusually quiet since the boys left, seemingly having retreated inside of herself to the point where it concerned him. Maybe she had lost something when Electra was ripped out of her. Maybe she'd taken something…

"Have they called yet?" She didn't stop digging or turn around as she spoke. Bobby sighed.

"Actually, yeah," he admitted. That got her to stop.

"What?"

"Sam called yesterday," he told her. "Wasn't a long chat, but he and Dean are fine." Ali resumed her digging, but Bobby could practically hear the cogs turning in her brain. The conversation was far from over.

"Did he ask about me?" she asked tentatively. Her back was to him as she dug so Bobby couldn't read her expression.

"Uh, no," he replied. "We didn't talk for long. He was in a rush."

"Oh," Ali muttered, her tone deflated. The shovel made a dull thud as it hit something hard and Ali began to clear the dirt from around the coffin's edge. "I see." She jammed the edge of the shovel under the lid of the casket, her grip so tight on the handle that her knuckles were white.

"He just wanted information for a hunt," Bobby explained. Ali used the shovel to prise up the lid of the wooden box, revealing the skeleton inside.

"You don't have to explain," she insisted, shaking her head and climbing out of the grave. "He didn't wanna talk to me, I get it." Bobby huffed.

"That's not what I said, Allison," he protested before catching sight of a morbid figured materialising before his very eyes. Ali's eyes were down cast as she fumed, her mind distracted from the task.

"But that's what you-."

"Move!" Ali gasped at the sound of the older hunter's yell. She crouched down, rolling over the grass as Bobby fired at the spirit. The salt caused it to disperse into the air, ghostly white wisps erupting in the darkness. The blonde girl pushed herself to her feet as she ran to the car, pulling the bottle of gasoline from the trunk.

Suddenly, the spirit was back in front of her and a freezing cold hand wrapped around her neck, lifting her off the ground. She dropped the gasoline, her fingers pulling at the ones that were pressing her windpipe closed. There was a loud pop and Ali fell to the ground, the ghost gone once again. She gasped for air, trying to catch her breath as she crawled along the damp grass towards the gasoline.

"Al!"

"I'm okay!" Ali yelled back, grabbing the bottle of gasoline and the fire iron from the trunk. She turned, her mud-covered legs propelling her towards the grave where she handed the bottle to Bobby and readied herself for another attack. "Where are you?" she whispered under her breath, the fire iron poised in the air with both hands as if it were a baseball bat.

The ghost materialised in front of her and she swung, the iron cutting through the apparition as if it were a cloud of smoke. Throwing the iron to the ground, she grabbed the shotgun, knowing it would give her more distance.

"Come on!" she yelled, as if inviting the monster to come and get her. To try. It appeared by the car, moving slowly at first. It appeared legless as it floated just above the ground, its arms outstretched and yellow teeth bared like a rabid dog. It charged, and Ali aimed the weapon.

She breathed.

One. Two. Three.

It was close, but not close enough. Ali smirked as she pulled back, her finger on the trigger. She'd forgotten the thrill of the hunt; the feeling of adrenaline pumping through her veins. She waited until the spirit was just a foot away before she fires, the salt bullet screeching as it hit it right between the eyes.

"You done?" Ali turned to face Bobby who was standing beside the grave, his brow arched at her. He resisted the urge to call her a show-off, but the sentiment came across in his expression. Ali gave a short snort of laughter before burying her hand in her pocket and fishing out a lighter. She threw it to the older hunter who quickly lit it and dropped it onto the salted corpse. It ignited instantly and they stood in silence as they watched it burn, the flames dancing in the darkness.


Ali lay on her bed, her feet kicked up against the headboard as she bounced a baseball against the wall. It had started raining three days ago and the sky still remained darkened by the heavy clouds. The Camaro had been confined to the garage and, although a little rain wouldn't do it any harm, Bobby had warned her that the roads would be slick and dangerous. It was he, more than her, who was concerned for her safety.

The buzzing of her mobile beside her halted her repetitive movements, the screen lighting up with the younger Winchester's name. Ali grabbed it immediately, her finger poised to accept the call when she stopped herself. Why was he calling? Did he suddenly have the time in between hunts to remember to pick up the phone? It was likely he was just calling because he needed something, and not because he cared about keeping in touch. After all, he hadn't seemed bothered about catching up a week ago. If he didn't have the time to keep in touch with her, then she'd show him the same curtesy.

Ali put the phone down on her bedside table and let it ring and ring until it finally went silent. Sam didn't leave a voicemail. Something within the blonde girl was deeply hurt by it, but then she remembered that she didn't care. The Winchester's weren't coming back. They didn't want anything to do with her anymore. She needed to move on.

"Al?" Bobby's voice echoed up the stairs and Ali pocketed her phone and made her way to him. She could feel it buzzing continuously against the fabric of her jeans but she stubbornly continued to ignore it.

"Everything okay?" she asked the older hunter when she'd reached the hall. Bobby had his jacket pulled around him and seemed to be in a hurry.

"I've gotta head out for a bit," he explained. "Can you watch the phones?"

"Sure," Ali replied, bidding him goodbye and sauntering into the study. She now had five missed calls from Sam Winchester and was starting to worry. What if something had happened? But she couldn't let herself think that way. She had to be strong. Stubborn and strong. Ali was mad at him, and he needed to get the message.

She switched off her phone and proceeded to flick through some of the files and papers that littered Bobby's desk. There was research everywhere, along with phone numbers and notes scribbled on newspaper clippings and backs of envelopes. Bobby was a great hunter, but he wasn't exactly the most organised person she'd ever met.

A ringing cut through the air and Ali scanned the labels on the numerous phones as she grabbed the one that was ringing.

"Monroe, F.B.I," she said, trying her best to sound official.

"Ali?" Sam's voice down the line made her roll her eyes and she sink back into Bobby's desk chair. The fabric was frayed and smelt like bourbon.

"You can't use this number to call me," Ali said bitterly. She could almost hear the nerves in Sam's breathing.

"I know, but… you wouldn't answer your phone." She glared at the air, hoping the younger Winchester's psychic abilities would be able to pick up on her hostility.

"What do you want?" Ali asked, keeping her voice even.

"I just wanna talk," he assured her, but she seriously doubted that. He wouldn't just call for a chat. Would he?

"What makes you think that I-."

"I'm sorry," he apologised, startling Ali a little. "I'm sorry I haven't been getting back to you. Things have been pretty crazy on this end. Dean and I are kinda… fugitives." Ali kept silent, a sulky expression on her face. She wanted to be mad at him, but it sounded like he was being truthful.

"An occasional phone call to say you're still alive would've been nice," she said grumpily, her elbows resting on the desk as she sat forward in the chair.

"I know," Sam replied. "How's Bobby?"

"He's alright, I guess," she replied. "How's Dean?" She bit her lip as she waited for the reply. She hadn't spoken to the elder Winchester in months. It somehow felt like longer.

"Hanging in there," Sam replied with a small chuckle. There was an intake of breath and Ali was sure that Sam was about to say something else. Perhaps elaborate on how Dean was really doing. He changed his mind at the last minute. "I gotta go. Dean's about to leave without me." Ali sighed, a sad smile pulling at her lips.

"You aren't gonna come back, are you?" she asked, somewhat daringly. The line fell silent, but there was no click, telling her that Sam was still there. The quiet stretched agonisingly slowly before he spoke again.

"Say hi to Bobby for me?" Something hurt inside her at his words, but not in a way she'd expected. She wasn't surprised at Sam's lack of reply. Whether it was what had happened with Electra or what had happened to her parents, something was still bothering Dean. Ali wasn't sure if it would ever go away.


For the first time in a while, Ali was buzzing. She was actually excited as the Camaro sped down the highway, and that could only mean one thing: she was going on a hunt. When she'd come across the online news report about multiple disappearances in Illinois, she couldn't stop herself from jumping in her car and making the trip across from Sioux falls. There was nothing Bobby could do about it either. He wasn't happy, to say the least, but she'd insisted that she could handle the situation herself.

The news of all the disappearances over the last month had sent alarm bells ringing in Ali's head. But what was it? A ghost? A demon? She felt silly walking in completely blind, but she needed to hunt. The urge to do so ran through her veins and was carved into her bones. She was already scarred with it.

Allison Venator was a hunter.

The trip to Joliet was long, but Ali couldn't've cared less. Even so, she'd had to crank the radio volume up so that she didn't have to spend hours in silence by herself. The music drowned out the noise of her own thoughts that were swirling around her head.

She was being completely reckless, especially after Ellen's warning to stay at Bobby's and not put herself in danger. But she was done sitting around. She refused to do it anymore.

Ali frowned as she pulled up outside old factory building. At first, she thought she'd imagined it, but there was no denying the fact that the Impala was sitting right in front of her. She knew the monster she was hunting had to be somewhere along the road. Driving for hours up and down the strip of old warehouses had made her doubt herself, but seeing the sleek black car had confirmed her suspicions. Sam and Dean were inside. She had the right place.

The blonde girl pulled up alongside the car she hadn't seen in months and exited her Camaro. At first, she wondered whether she should just leave it to the Winchesters considering she had next to no idea what she was about to walk into, but the need to hunt was too strong. The need to be useful overpowered her and she marched forward, the Colt Bobby had given her braced tightly in her hands.

The old factory building was dark and somehow cold. Goosebumps pricked their way up Ali's bare arms as she stepped quietly on the concrete and she wished he hadn't left her jacket in the car . She listened carefully for any sound of movement from further into the room. It was silent. Ali began to doubt herself once more until she heard the pattering of another set of footsteps, along with a stomach-curling exhale of air.

She turned. The darkness before her gave no hint of an occupant.

"Ali?" She whirled around, coming face to face with the younger Winchester.

"Sam," she breathed, holding a hand to her chest. His hair was longer than she remembered and she glanced up at him. For a moment, he looked relieved too before his features turned to a frown.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked in a hiss, keeping his voice low.

"What does it look like?" Ali asked, waving her Colt at him.

"You're hunting?" he asked incredulously. "Where's Bobby?" Ali bit her lip awkwardly as she broke eye contact with him. "You're here my yourself?"

"I know, I know," she said, rolling her eyes. "I get it. I'm being reckless."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "And incredibly stupid."

"Save the lecture, okay?" Ali said, shaking her head at him. She didn't need Sam Winchester to tell her off. "Where's Dean?"

"He got taken by the Djinn," Sam explained.

"A genie?" Ali asked disbelievingly. The younger Winchester nodded, an expression on his face that said he couldn't believe she'd turned up here by herself without having a clue what she was up against. There was a crash from further inside the warehouse and Sam motioned for them to be quiet as he pulled out a silver knife. Ali thought it likely that he'd already dipped it in lamb's blood, ready for the kill.

He gestured ahead of him and Ali followed, keeping her footfalls quiet as they tiptoed around. She braced the Colt in front of her and, although she knew it wouldn't kill the Djinn, she hoped it might slow it down somewhat.

They made it to an open space and Sam suddenly ran ahead. Ali hung back, watching as the younger Winchester ran up to a figure and begin to try and shake it away. Ali squinted in the suddenly brighter light. His bruised and pale skin meant that she barely recognised him, but as she got closer, there was no doubt in her mind. It was Dean.

Ali sighed with relief when his eyes flickered open. She glanced around the room as the brothers muttered to each other, catching sight of another girl who looked even worse than Dean. She was attached to some kind of tube and her hands were tied above her head. Ali made towards her, stopping when she heard Dean yell.

The Djinn seemed to come out of nowhere as it threw Sam to the ground. Ali ran over as he and the monster fought on the ground.

"Hey!" she yelled, catching the Djinn's attention and it headed for her instead. Its skin was blue and tattooed with a strange pattern that was oddly beautiful. Ali aimed her weapon and fired, hitting the Djinn in the chest multiple times. It stepped back with each blow but other than that, it seemed unfazed. Out of the corner of her eye, Ali could see Sam helping Dean get free.

The Djinn came closer and closer and Ali continued to fire. Soon she was out of bullets and realised she had no other weapon.

"Crap," she muttered, throwing the useless gun to the ground. The Djinn was backing her into a corner.

All off a sudden, something collided with it and it fell to the ground, Sam landing on top of it. They battled for a moment, but the Djinn was far stronger and quickly regained the upper hand. Ali spotted Sam's silver knife and the floor and went to grab it, sliding it across the floor to Dean who was closer to the monster. Just before the Djinn was about to cast its spell over Sam, Dean jammed the knife into its back and twisted, killing it permanently.

Sam breathed heavily on the floor as he tried to catch his breath and Dean offered him a hand up. Ali caught the elder Winchester's eye for a brief moment before he quickly looked away. He'd seemed surprised to see him when she'd first turned up with Sam, but now it seemed like he was just unsure and confused. The way he looked at her was almost like he was seeing a ghost.

Dean made his way over to the girl who was still tied up. He looked at her sadly as he pressed two fingers to her neck, checking for a pulse. His eyes lit up suddenly and he pulled the tube from her neck.

"She's still alive," he said disbelievingly, handing the silver knife to Sam who cut the rope binding her hands. "I got you," Dean told her as she collapsed into his arms, her body completely exhausted and frail. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"

"We need to get her to a hospital," Sam said as Dean pulled the girl up with him. "Ali, you sticking around?"

"I can," she said quietly, unsure of what she should do next. The evening had taken an unexpected turn. Sam nodded, picking her Colt from the floor and handing it back to her. "Where're you guys staying?" Ali asked, edging towards the exit as Dean manoeuvred the unconscious girl in his arms. She kept her eyes fixed on him, his skin ashen and bruised. Sam cleared his throat, drawing her attention away from the elder Winchester as the younger sent her a reassuring smile as if to say he'll be okay.

"The Zeppelin," he replied. "You know it?" Ali recalled passing a sign for the motel several hours ago.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice sounding distant. "I'll meet you there."


Over the past couple of years, Ali had spent a large proportion of her time waiting for the Winchesters. She'd waited for them on numerous hunts when she'd first known them in the days when Dean wouldn't let her anywhere near a case. But that night as she waited in their motel room for them to get back from the hospital, it felt like an eternity.

Ali was anxious when the door handle finally turned, and even more anxious when Dean was the only one to enter. He sensed her concern straight away.

"Sam's getting you a room," he told her. She nodded back, remaining perched on the edge of the bed. "Is that your Camaro outside?" Ali was a little taken about by the question and she smiled a little.

"Yeah," she replied. "Me and Bobby built her." He nodded back, but Ali didn't miss the ghost of a smirk that appeared at him lips. He was impressed. For a moment, Ali felt like things were back to normal, but when Dean let the door swing shut and they were thrown back into a defining silence, she realised she was wrong.

"Feeling okay?" she asked.

"Better, thanks," Dean replied. Ali bit her lip.

"So, what was it like?" she asked tentatively, her voice quiet. Dean considered her a moment with the same uneasy look he had before, and then his eyes went wistful as he remembered.

"It was-," he paused, his gaze focusing on the carpet tiles on the floor. He examined a dark stain on the rough fabric, scrutinising it with his green eyes. "It was different. Mom was there, Sammy was engaged…"

"Sounds pretty perfect," Ali mused, her heart aching as she imagined what it would've been like if she'd been in Dean's place at the hands of the Djinn. Tyler's face swam though her mind, along with her mother's flowing hair and her father's eyes/ She remembered the way they creased at the edges when he laughed. Ali struggled to remember what it sounded like now.

"It wasn't," Dean replied, shaking his head slightly. He wondered what could've caused the stain. Maybe coffee? "It was just a wish. My mom never died and Dad never brought us up as hunters." Ali considered his words.

"I guess we never met, then?" she worked out. If Sam and Dean weren't hunters, they never would've met Bobby. They never would've met her.

"No, we never met," he said quietly. "I asked Sam about you and he had no idea what I was talking about." He laughed a little, more at the absurdity of the situation than anything. "Part of me wanted to stay." Dean's eyes were on the ground as if he were ashamed of it.

"Why didn't you?" Ali asked softly. He scoffed.

"Sammy and I didn't get along. All the people we saved were dead and you…" Dean looked up and they locked eyes. He didn't finish his sentence and although Ali wanted to know how it would've ended, she didn't press him.

And you weren't there. That's what Dean had wanted to say, but he couldn't. Ali wasn't in his dream world, but the reason wasn't what she thought. In Dean's seemingly perfect world, Ali wasn't still living with Bobby in Sioux Falls without the interference of the Winchesters.

After Sam had told him he didn't have a clue who Allison Venator was, Dean had looked her up, fearing the worst. He'd found the news article: July 30th 1996, family of four were found dead in their home just outside of Denver, Colorado. In the world Dean had seen, Ali was dead.

And then Dean had worked it out. If his father never became a hunter, he never would've known Elliot and Katherine Venator. He never would've been there on that fateful night to put them down. He never would've saved Ali and her brother from them.

The realisation made him feel guilty. Dean wanted to tell her, but he wasn't sure how she would react. All he knew was that he had been wrong, and his father had done the right thing.

"… well I guess it doesn't matter," Dean continued. "It wasn't real anyways."

Sam pushed the door open, dangling a set of keys in Ali's direction. She smiled gratefully at him as he gestured for her to follow him to her room.

"You driving back to Sioux Falls tomorrow?" Dean asked just before she left the room. Ali nodded over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I was gonna leave first thing," she replied.

"Okay, well uh, why don't you stick around for a bit?" Ali paused, looking back at him and wondering what had happened to cause him to be so different to how he'd been when she'd last seen him. "I want to check out your ride." She nodded back at him, her eyes brightening a little.

"Okay," she replied before heading out.

"Night Ali," Dean called. Ali smiled to herself as she exited the room.

"Night Dean."


So its been a while... sorry. For some reason, this chapter took me forever to do. I rewrote it like 5 times so I hope you liked it!

Check out the couple of spn oneshots I wrote if you want some more supernatural stuff!

Let me know what you thought, much love x