Chapter 1

My life is far from normal. I did have a normal childhood; summers playing at the lake with my friends, family dinners every night with my loving parents, and I even had a boyfriend or two. My adulthood started off a little rocky, however. I didn't make it through college, failed out in the second semester due to memories I had long suppressed. I then struggled at a retail store job, only to have been fired three months prior. Since they canned me, I had been crashing on my best friend's couch. Rachael was getting tired of me crashing at her place, only due to the fact that date night could not retire into the bedroom for the walls were thin. They would reveal the secrets going on behind that closed door. She put up with me though, because that's what best friends do. We protect each other and we loved each other. But nothing could have prepared me for what was going to happen.

That night, in my favorite bar in Waxhaw, North Carolina, my fate was twisted in more ways than I ever thought possible. We celebrated Rachael's engagement to her new fiancée, Dale, at our usual table in the middle of the bar's dining area. I had several drinks that night, trying to drink away the pain of being single for the last four years. Around eleven o'clock, I grew bored of sitting at the table and drinking shot after shot.

"I need some air." I announced, grabbing my jacket off my chair as I exited my table.

"Hurry back Kayla!" Rachael begged. "You don't want to miss the good stuff."

I giggled. "Don't worry, I won't." I donned my jacket and walked out the front door. The bouncer saw my neon pink wrist band, indicating I had already been served, and allowed me to pass. The crisp night air hit my face, and my eyes widened. The wind wasn't particularly strong that night but I could feel it kiss my cheeks. I silently thanked myself that I was intelligent enough to bring along a jacket. I pulled it further up on my shoulder and crossed my arms, attempting to hold in my body heat.

I looked up and down the street, watching the cars and people walking by the bar. I noticed lots of couples romantically strolling in the calm night. I supposed my mind was only picking those out because of my celebration and the fact that I have been single a long time. I sighed heavily and lowered my head to the ground, gazing at the dirt on my boots. I noted to myself to clean those when I got home.

I jumped when I heard the sound of a trash can crashing to the ground. My head whipped to the right, where alleys lead in between the bar and an abandoned building. I swallowed the lump in my throat and walked toward the alley. My feet felt heavy with hesitation yet I forced them to move. I reached the corner and peeked my head around. I saw a strange man standing amongst the rubbish.

He was tall and lanky, and his leather jacket fit snuggly around his shoulders. His jeans were torn at the cuff and when he turned around to face me, I noticed the holes in the knees. But more importantly, I noticed the blood stains on his white T-shirt underneath his jacket. His lips were also covered in blood and I saw for a brief second, a set of sharp teeth poking over normal teeth. Without saying a word, I took a step backward, attempting to create distance between me and whatever he was. He mirrored me, grinning as he did. My heart pounded in my chest; I could feel my throat closing with fear.

I didn't know how much good it would do but I turned myself on my heels and darted for the closest building across the street. Before I knew it, the strange man was in front of me. He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the brick of the building next to me. The scratchy brick stung my back from the scrape I now felt in the middle. My hands clamped down on the hand that strangled my throat. The air was stuck in my throat, unable to escape.

"Please." I choked out. My plea caused the stranger to clamp down even harder on my throat, though it felt to me that it took little effort. His hand felt like steel around my neck; no hope of effectively using my self-defense techniques. My air supply was completely cut off. I struggled to inhale even though the hand wouldn't allow it. My fingernails felt like they were scraping steel rods instead of human skin, inevitably causing them pain in the process. I knew this was the end; I played memories of my favorite summers with my family and friends in my mind as I faced my death. And then, I heard a beautiful sound coming from the alley we just left.

"Hey!" The male voice called out. "Let the girl go." He was very tall, definitely over six feet, and his hair reached his chin. His beautiful symmetrical face was wearing a scowl of disgust as he looked at my potential murderer. I tried to cry out for him to help me, but to avail. Behind the monster, another tall man, though slightly shorter than the first, appeared, pointing a gun at the two of us.

"End of the line pal. You can either put down the girl willingly, or I will use force." Who were these guys? The first one, with the incredibly broad shoulders, wore a tan jacket over a flannel shirt but he drew a gun as well. Could they possibly have been off duty cops, who happened to come across our scene while enjoying their night off? The other one had a black jacket over a dark grey t-shirt and worn out jeans; he was also very attractive but there was something about the taller one that I just couldn't put my finger on.

"You Winchesters think you are going to destroy me?" My assailant asked, clenching his fist around my throat again; this time, I managed a cry of pain.

"Well if you know who we are, you should know our reputation." The taller one said. The way he said "our name" could have meant one or two things. They were either brothers or married partners. I hoped to myself that they were brothers. "We're not going to tell you again, put the girl down, now."

The hand thanfully let go of my throat and I crashed to the ground. The wet pavement knocked the wind out of me even further. I gasped for air, coughing and gagging; my hand grasped my throat, feeling the bruises now painted there. A pair of hands suddenly grabbed my thrusting shoulders. I looked up into the eyes of the beautiful tall one. His hand on my shoulder sent jolts of electricity throughout my entire body; I felt tingly all over. A lump rose in my throat, I couldn't speak or form words.

"Are you alright?" he asked me, in a husky voice. It wasn't as deep as the other male's but manly enough to send stimulating shivers down my spine. He breathed very heavily, panting almost. He must have rushed right over to me.

"Uh…yeah. Yeah I'm fine." My head was starting to spin. The world felt like it was turning me around and around but my body held me steady. My legs were going to fall out from underneath me.

"Hey, hey hey hey," He repeated over and over again. He grabbed me by both shoulders and held me upright. My mind was still spinning, around and around, and my whole body felt light. My alcohol intake was catching up to me. I looked into the eyes of my beautiful stranger and I finally lost it. The world went black.

When I came to, I was in a hospital bed at the general hospital a couple of miles away from where I passed out. I didn't remember how I got there or anything that may have happened before I woke up. I looked around the room; down at my clothes that were traded for a hospital gown, down at the IV in my hand. I gazed up at the clock on the wall. It read three pm; I couldn't recall the day I went out drinking with my friends, but I passed out due to alcohol consumption. It couldn't have knocked me out for more than the night.

I hoped to see that stranger again, but I did not think it was going to happen. He was probably long gone or not interested in visiting a perfect stranger he happened upon and happened to save. A knock came upon my door and there he was; I had been wrong before.

"Hi. Is this a bad time?" He asked.

"Uh, no..I…I mean I don't think so." Why was I stammering like an idiot? I had never stammered before. I tried to think of excuses or even small talk but nothing was going on in my mind. I hope they didn't shoot me up with a bunch of drugs.

"I just came by to see how you were. You hit the ground pretty hard last night."

"I think I'll recover. If I was doomed, I don't think they would hook me up to this stuff." He chuckled slightly, and that laugh warmed my entire chest. I couldn't understand why I was reacting this way; I couldn't understand how this perfect stranger could affect me so strongly. I didn't even know his name. "By the way," I added, "thanks for saving me last night."

"I was wondering, how much of that do you remember?" He asked me.

I crept into the back of my mind, digging for memories of that night. I remembered the drinks I had, the bar where I consumed them, my friends… "have my friends been looking for me?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't see anyone with you. Just the…guy who attacked you. Do you remember him? Was he alone?"

"You ask a lot of questions." I commented.

"I'm a very curious man." I chuckled, to which he returned with a smile. He stepped closer to my bed. "Do you mind?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. So long as you come in and sit on a chair like a normal person." So much chuckling was going on between the two of us. Something was burning deep inside me; a desire to be near this man I had met the night before. He did as I recommended and sat down in the ugly chair hospitals provide for loved ones to sit on during visits. The chair in my room looked both ugly and uncomfortable but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes fixed on me, thankfully on my face rather than the tubes and wires surrounding my bed. I tried to picture what my hair would look like. The night I went out with my friends, I had pulled half of it into a pony tail with two pieces framing my face. The rest, I had curled with my curling iron. Given the humidity of the other night and the near death experience, my hair was probably a disaster.

"Is this better?" He asked me.

"A little. Except now you can see how hellish I look." I cast my eyes down to the IV, hoping I didn't have bags under my eyes.

"You've been through hell." I gazed back up at him. "I get it."

I smiled warmly. "Thanks."

"So, can I ask one more question?"

I giggled to myself. "You just did, but okay." He smirked at me.

"You're a little more…lively than when I saw you the other night."

"I had…quite a lot to drink that night. Engagement party you know." Oh shit, I thought to myself, he probably thinks it was mine. He looked surprised, so I decided to set the record straight, even though it would make me look ridiculous. "Not my engagement party or anything. It was my friends, I wasn't really sure I wanted to go or anything but I did and I ended up drinking a lot and…." I was rambling. I rambled on and on like an idiot.

He just stared at me, smiling with amusement. I stopped talking. "I'm sorry I just…I think I hit my head or something." He just chuckled under his breath.

"What else do you remember from that night?" He asked, with a sudden seriousness; perhaps even a rushed tone. He started tapping his leg with his index finger; he apparently had somewhere he needed to be, but this question was too important to leave without an answer. I dug into the deepest corners of my mind, trying to remember the face of my assailant or any detail about him. I watched a lot of lame cop and detective shows, with the occasional informative detective show thrown in, when I was a child; I knew that any detail could help them find the perp.

This mystery man in front of me was wearing a suit, but I don't remember if he flashed his badge or anything. In every movie, TV show, or documentary about officers of the law, they show their identification to assure the witness or whomever they are talking to that they are associated with the law and can be trusted. The man before me didn't even identify himself when he walked into the room; his name was still a blank. I put down that red flag; it seemed like he was interested in me so that could be why he skipped the formalities. At least, I hoped it was interest and not a slip in routine.

His suit also looked cheap. It looked like it was purchased at a superstore and put together in a cheap motel room. I thought even harder about that night; when I saw that gorgeous stranger come to my rescue, he was dressed more casually. There was a peak of flannel hanging out of his tan jacket. His jeans were torn, as if he had been through serious stuff; couldn't quite put a pin in it. He seemed like he could handle himself in a fight but his quiet, polite demeanor when he talked to me said to me that he doesn't pick those fights.

I definitely wanted to learn more about him. The strongest vibe I picked up from this attractive man was that his presence was temporary. He would disappear like an image drawn in the sand during high tide. I wanted to extend our chat time but I was not in control of my time. When one is pinned in a hospital bed, one might as well be physically chained to it. The doctors and nurses would determine when I was fit to re-enter the world and search for ways to keep my stranger within my grasp for one more moment. Considering the fact that a doctor had not even walked by my room for hours, I knew that he would leave and I would probably never see him again.

He was still looking at me, waiting to find out if I had more information. Not a drop of impatience was on his face, though. He seemed content to wait. It felt selfish of me to make him stay, especially when his partner appeared in the door.

"Agent," was all he said. The one next to me, gave me look, and excused himself. There was a window next to my door. I could see the two of them having an intense conversation. They were not happy with one another, or something happened with the case that had them tense and upset. The other agent was slightly shorter, though still taller than me. He also had a cheap suit; I chuckled at the thought of them being a matching set. The longer I spied on their secret meeting, the heavier it seemed to get. The shorter one was getting angrier, leaning even closer to the taller one. Whatever they were discussing, eavesdropping was not something to be tolerated. Almost as if the conversation was top secret government case or something. That red flag screamed at me again. It seemed like overkill for a case of mugging or whatever it is that guy was trying to do with me.

I started to think that maybe these guys coming over to the hospital was a bad thing, no matter how attractive they were. I wanted to come up with an excuse for them to leave; I thought I could fake a headache like some lame teenager or uninterested wife but it was too dumb to be a legit excuse. I looked around my hospital room when I spied my call bell. If I could get a nurse in here, maybe she could ask them to leave. I reached over to the railing on the bed and pressed the nurse button. After the red indicator light popped on, the tallest one that I had been conversing with slowly eased his way back into the room.

"Sorry about that."

"Trouble at the office?" I asked, trying to deter possible suspicions that I was spying on his conversation.

"It was just my partner. Where were we?" He asked, putting what looked like a handkerchief or something similar into his jacket pocket.

"I can't remember anything else from that night. I wish I could help you but I'm just exhausted and I think the trauma might have blocked it out." My chest tightened at the thought of pushing him out of the room. I didn't know how to act with this guy. His strange behavior put nervous butterflies in my stomach. Meanwhile, his presence made me feel safe and I still wanted to know more about what makes this guy tick.

He looked disappointed and relieved at the same time. I didn't want to ponder any further; just wanted to talk to him in the moment and enjoy what could have been the last time I ever saw him.

"Well, I guess I have no more questions." He said. He sighed heavily. I thought maybe he didn't want to go either and we could have had this connection. However, that thought immediately departed and moved to the back of my mind. I was not getting my hopes up.

"So I guess you have to leave then." I said, childishly looking down at my blankets wrapped around my waist. If I looked into his eyes, I might've asked him to stay.

"Have to get back to work. And you still have some healing to do." He inched the chair closer to the bed. "I asked you a lot of questions but, I didn't ask for your name."

I smiled, blushing from ear to ear. "It's Kayla."

"I'm Sam."

"Thanks for coming to my rescue, Sam" I thanked him. I finally allowed myself to look at him. His smile was warm and gentle, but I could see sleep deprivation, pain, and something else. Maybe it was loss or defeat; something clouded those beautiful brown eyes. He brushed away a stray hair that wildly disobeyed him.

"You're welcome." He sighed again after flashing me one more ridiculously gorgeous smile, smacking his knees as he rose again. "Feel better." He said. That shorter agent appeared in the window again, frustratingly gesturing for their departure. Sam threw me one last smile and wave before he and the shorter agent left the hospital. It was the last time I saw them. I didn't know when or if I would ever see them again.

I turned on the TV above the bed and mindlessly watched a sitcom. My eyes started blinking after ten minutes of the show and what felt like twenty minutes of commercials. The more they concentrated on the moving pictures, the heavier and more weighed down they felt. I let myself drift to sleep, with Sam's face still fresh on my mind.