Thanks to Alyssa Ray for her help with the dialogue in this chapter.

I'm standing in the middle of a dark, silent corridor. Moonlight filters in from the cracks of the boarded up windows. The outfit I'm wearing resembles something that a kid in the 1900s would have worn. The grey flannel dress makes me look even more pale than I already am, and the white laced apron stinks of starch. As I walk down the corridor my polished black boots make the floor boards creak with each tentative step.

A cold breeze gushes past, making my hair move. There was a freakin bow in my hair too. The sound of a piano playing drifts down the corridor as I continue to walk. It's a haunting tune that sends shivers down my spine.

I open the door at the end of the corridor and find a long spiral staircase. Taking a deep breath, I attentively make my way down each step as the creepy melody continues to play. The atmosphere becomes more chilling as I venture into a large room. A single candle flickers nearby.

A grand piano comes into view as I slink further forward, and my breath hitches with fear as I discover what is playing the piano. Dressed in a ragged dinner suit that was smeared in blood, was a man. The man's hands are almost skeletal, the bones visible at his knuckles, his fingernails are charcoal black. I let out a gasp. His head is missing.

The music stops and suddenly the headless piano player lunges at me, a horrible moaning sound echoes throughout the room as I start to run back up the stairs.

Panting with fright I charge back along the empty corridor, aware that the headless dude is following me. Then it comes to my attention, I'm trapped. The corridor reaches a dead end and I can't go back the way I came as I would run into the headless guy.

Like a scared infant I hide in the corner of the wall, squeezing myself between a chest of drawers and a bookcase. However the headless man finds me. A terrifying moan zooms into my face as the headless figure looms over me, a skeletal hand reaches out to grab me. I react and scream in terror.

I woke with a start, gasping slightly. My God, that was a horrible nightmare. Bleary eyed, I scanned around the dimly lit room. Ignoring my exhaustion and recent nightmare, I eased my head off the pillow as I continued to search the darkness.

"Daddy?" I called out, sitting up which caused the bed sheets to crinkle with the movement. "Daddy where are you?"

My eyes continued to search as I found myself alone. It wouldn't surprise me if Dad was gone. I was wrong.

"It's alright, I'm still here," came Dad's gruff reply. "Just go back to sleep."

That put my mind at ease, well a little. I still couldn't believe what I said to Goose. I should head to France and sign myself up for the Guillotine because I'm so ashamed of myself. The bed dipped and I was aware of being lowered onto the old mattress again.

"It's okay baby," came a very familiar voice. "I'm here too."

My brother had returned. Deep down I knew he would never leave or run away.

"I'm so sorry," I mumbled, winding my skinny arms around his neck, almost strangling him. "The things I said, I'm so sorry."

My brother hushed me as he eased my arms from his neck, a kiss was planted on my forehead and a hand ruffled my hair.

"Go back to sleep okay, we'll talk about it tomorrow." Dean replied, his voice quiet.

A minute or two later, I was sound asleep again. Thankfully I wasn't reunited with the headless guy, instead I was locked in a fierce battle against Team Rocket.

The sun was glaring in the blue sky and was beaming into the room, blinding me as I woke. As I sat up, it came to my attention that my hair was a frazzled mess of fluff. I looked across the room to find Dean sitting at the kitchenette table, reading a newspaper.

"Dad went to get some breakfast, he'll be back," he said, before gazing back across at me. "And we need to talk. So, what was that all about then, huh?"

Obviously, this was a situation that couldn't be ignored. I swung my legs over the bed, keeping my head down.

"I'm so sorry" I whispered forlornly.

Putting down the newspaper, my brother returned his focus on me. I hurt him bad last night with those harsh words. Even now I still was kicking myself over and over again.

"Okay, and I'm glad you are," he said, his tone serious. "We have to do something about this Chris. Well, what do you think? You know how often I've had to get on your case about this whole controlling your temper thing. You basically disobeyed a direct order."

I'm so ashamed of myself. Doppelganger is laughing at me again, taunting my misery.

"I don't mean to break the rules," I said, regret lacing my voice. "I'm sorry."

I can't stand it when Doppelganger is in charge, it's like my personality changes completely. When she is in charge I become moody, bad tempered and over emotional. I hate it.

"I know, but me telling you isn't doing any good, so we need to figure something else out," sighed Goose. "Look, what you said last night really hurt me. All this rage is only gonna put you in danger, agreed. That's what I'm trying to explain to you."

I nodded, hopping off the bed and traveling over to him, before perching myself on his knee. His fingers tilted my chin up so that our eyes met, he then shook his head at me and sighed again.

"Well, what are we going to do about this?" he asked sternly. "I need to hear something from you."

"There's a monster inside me," I replied. "She's strong and just takes over whenever she wants to. She's in control right now."

I could tell Goose wanted to laugh at that point but he knew I was being serious and it would be in bad taste to make jokes.

"So Chrissie, how do we tame this monster?" questioned Goose, his eyebrow cocked slightly. "No TV for a week, a few extra miles, a spanking, what? Because I hate to tell you kid, you need to be punished for last night, there is no way around it."

I figured that hours ago. I deserve all forms of punishment ever invented in the world.

"I know that" I answered glumly.

My brother studied my expression closely before letting out another tired sigh. I was gonna give him gray hairs before he reached thirty, or be the cause of him having a stroke or heart attack.

"Before I decide anything, I need to know where all of that anger came from last night," he added with a slight frown. "Since when do you not listen to me?"

I have issues, I've know that for years. Repressing all of my emotions is the easiest way to cope but it is messy when it reaches boiling point. Dean's one to talk, he is the poster boy at keeping everything inside. My gaze traveled to my hands.

"I honestly don't know where the anger comes from" I answered truthfully, my voice small.

I hung my head, still deeply ashamed about my words and actions from the night before.

"Well can you ask your doppelganger to help you out with the explanation," he asked me in all seriousness, a hint of sternness in his voice. "Because it appears as if she is a big part of the problem. Either way we need to figure this out. Now."

I shook my head sadly. There was no way that would happen, not with doppelganger in charge.

"I'm being stupid," I said. "Ignore me. I'm just being weird again."

I've always said that weird was my middle name, and I'm not being funny about it. I really am weird.

"No, you are not being stupid, or weird, and I won't ignore you," my brother said as he cupped my chin again. "So I want you to do something for me, you can consider it part of your punishment, I want you to write down things you can do to keep your cool a bit better, kind of like a plan of attack, okay?"

Seems reasonable enough. I gazed into my brother's eyes, a sense of sadness burned inside me, hanging over me like a big black cloud.

"I never meant to hurt you" I said to my big brother, my eyes wide glazed with regret and sorrow.

A kiss was planted on my exposed forehead as he gave me a tight squeeze, with me still balanced on his knee like some parakeet.

"I know you didn't," said Goose. "That is why I need a plan of attack, so we don't have to go through this again. I hate when you feel like this, and I hate having to get on your case. But kid let me tell you something, this is it! Next time I promise the consequences are going to be much worse, you got me."

Swallowing I gave a small nod in response. I didn't like the sound of that threat. Afterwards I was instructed to go wash up, which I did. All of my clothes were needing laundry and the only clean outfit was some old blue and white gingham dress. I yanked it on alongside my thick black socks and high tops. I looked like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, and it was a good thing that my high tops weren't red because I knew I'd get taunted all the way to the centre of the freakin' Earth if they were. My brother eyed my clothing choice when I exited the bathroom. It was obvious that I needed new clothes. As soon as I reached him, he handed me a notebook and pen, without saying a word to me as I sat down.

Paper has a funny smell in my opinion, it's like I can get the sense of the woods from where it came from. Yeah I know, that's a pretty strange way of thinking. I stared at the notebook, drumming the pen against the kitchenette table in an irritating manner.

"Kid, if you don't start writing and stop drumming, I'm gonna drum your butt for a while," Dean snapped, his tone annoyed. "Then you are gonna run five miles, so take your pick."

My right hand became animated as I began to scribble down words and sentences, the pen scratching against the paper. It took me twenty minutes to complete the task my brother gave me. Goose took the notebook and looked over it:

How to Control the Weird Mind and Behavior of Christina M. Winchester.

1. Avoid tantrums at all costs, if not it will lead to my ass being spanked till the cows come home.

2. If in doubt about something, ask Goose. He always knows what to do.

3. Being a moody brat only leads to arguements.

4. Good behaviour leads to rewards (Yeah I know, I'm pushing it)

5. Don't annoy Goose when he is hungover or cranky.

6. If Doppelganger tries to make trouble, ignore her and tell her to shut it.

7. If ever in school, avoid trouble, mischief and fights like the Plague.

8. Bart Simpson is not an ideal role model.

9. Don't parrot curse words.

10. Don't use violence if in a bad mood.

"This looks good" he said, offering me a small smile.

My expression of thank you was by giving him a hug before returning to my chair. I still felt shame regardless. I would never forgive myself for saying that to my brother who had basically raised me since he was twelve years old.

"So, you do know that you need to put this little plan of attack into action, right?" asked Goose. "If you don't it kind of defeats the purpose. No more of this temper Chris, seriously, it's hurting others and even you, and that is not cool at all."

I didn't utter a single word, as I just kept my head down. My bare legs swung back and forth as they dangled over the chair, the rubber heels clicking together every now and then.

"So, I think we are good here," my brother said, looking down at me, a smile on his face. "One question though, do you understand what is going to happen next time Chris?"

I nodded.

"I'll get my ass kicked if I act like an immature baby again" I said, my expression deadpan.

My brother released a tiny chuckle before smirking slightly.

"Well that's one way to put it," he smiled, ruffling my hair. "Do you have any questions?"

I shook my head. Goose then traveled over to the motel room window and waited for Dad to make an appearance.

"What if he doesn't come back?" I said, watching my legs swinging back and forth. "What if he's ditched us again?"

My tone had a hint of disappointment. I knew it was too good to be true. Why do I bother getting my hopes up when I know that I'm only gonna get hurt and disappointed. Emotions that I'm all too familiar with. I folded my arms, placing them on the kitchenette table and as I rested my chin on my arms, I let out a sigh. My head then lifted abruptly at the sound of a key twisting around in the lock of the door. I held my breath as the door opened, it was Dad.

"Why so glum princess?" he asked as he glanced over at me, dumping down the paper bag he was carrying. "What's up?"

Princess? Really? I'm eleven years old. I'm too old for that nickname. Then again, this is Dad. Dad ventured over towards me, kneeling down on his haunches in order to level himself with me. His hands rested on my bare bruised knees as he gazed up at me. I took a deep breath.

"Uh, I got into trouble. Had to make a plan," I started. "My temper is bad news and my evil doppelganger inside me has really got to take up residence somewhere else. Oh and you came back."

The words flew outta my mouth, giving me no time to breathe. Dad blinked at me, a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Anyone up for taking some rounds with the shotgun? I found a field nearby," declared Dad suddenly, clapping his hands together as he rose to his full height. He gazed down at me with a hopeful expression on his face. "What do you say princess, wanna shoot some shit?"

I glanced over a Dean, who was sitting stony-faced on the bed. Shotgun? For real?

"I haven't been taught with the shotgun yet," I replied. "I'm still learning with the .45 handgun and rifle."

I'd hate to see the chaos I'd unleash if somebody gave me a loaded shotgun.

"Yeah Dad, not sure that's such a good idea," Dean responded. "This one hasn't exactly been on her best behavior and I'm not sure putting a gun in her hands is a smart idea right now."

Oh yeah, like I'm gonna burst into the freakin' Hulk and go crazy and shoot all the birds in the sky, including Bambi's Mom. I glowered at my brother. He was acting like the parent again. Dad traveled over to Dean and stood in front of him, his arms folded across his chest.

"Son, last time I checked I was her father, and your father as well as your elder," Dad said, with a hint of drill sergeant in his voice. "Do I need to order you two to come shoot a couple of rounds with the old man?"

That depends on Goose and his feelings. Dean didn't respond and this annoyed Dad. Dad was the one person you could never ignore, you wouldn't dare. The tension in the room became noticeable, I bit my lip as I watched my brother challenge our father.

"Suddenly you care," stated Dean bluntly, glaring up at Dad. "For the record, I know Chris better than anyone."

Hey! Don't involve me. I hate it when fights and arguments erupt over me. My brother glanced over in my direction, and I can honestly say that he looked ready to explode. This was gonna be fun.

"I'm her father!" boomed Dad.

I couldn't stop myself from shrinking away at the sound of my father's anger. Uh oh, here we go.

"If I want to take my daughter to shoot a few rounds, I will," frowned Dad, lowering his voice slightly as he sensed my anxiety. "As long as she would like to go with me that is."

Dean still looked pissed, squaring Dad up, which I don't think was the wisest thing to do. Dad glanced over in my direction.

"Do you wanna go sweetheart?" asked Dad in a sweet tone, which sounded very alien to me. "It would give us a chance to spend some time together. Would you like that?"

What do I say? My gaze shifted between my Dad and brother. I was starting to get worried, even get scared. I didn't wanna say the wrong thing as I knew whatever answer I gave, somebody was gonna get upset and offended.

"You'restaying right here," Dean ordered me, he then pointed a finger at Dad. "And you, are leaving."

Dad hated this idea with a passion and lunged at my brother, grabbing his shirt collar. Dean froze at Dad's violent reaction but quickly recovered before taking a swing at him. I let out a frightened squeak as Dad lashed out in retaliation, knocking Dean onto the couch.

"What the hell son!" yelled Dad, his face purple with rage. "Really, all I wanted to do was spend some time with you and your sister, and this is how you react?"

Sliding from the chair, I took refuge under the kitchenette table, something that I had done often as a small kid whenever a family feud was on display.

"What right do you have to her?" demanded a furious Dean, his bottom lip was spilt and bleeding. "To us?"

Oooh I hate this! Pulling my knocking knees to my chest, helpless as my Dad and big brother continued their wrath fuelled argument. Dad got right in Dean's face, breathing heavy, daring him to make the next move. Dean turned away and in the next breath punched Dad hard enough to knock him backwards.

"You gave her to me," growled Dean. "You don't get a say anymore!"

My Dad refused to back away from his side of the dispute. Man, I feel like a carnival sideshow prize. Stop fighting over me!

"Dean, she is still my daughter and I have a right to see her," sighed Dad, rubbing a hand across his face. "I just wanna spend some time with her, what's wrong with that? Why are you against it?"

"You're gonna hurt her again," replied my brother. "I know you will. You do it all the time. I'm the one who always picks up the broken pieces whenever you make a mess."

Goose was right on that statement. My Dad is a good man though, I could never doubt that. He tries to provided and do good for us but struggles to cope with his mental woes.

"I'm not gonna hurt her by taking her to shoot a couple targets and then take her out for ice cream, son," Dad replied. "Give me a chance with Chrissie. Please."

I emerged from under the table, wandering over to them slowly. It was like entering a lions den.

"Dean's right though, Daddy" I commented, to which they both gazed down at me.

"Why would you say that princess?" questioned Dad. "I know I've hurt you in the past, but that is not why I'm here now. The last thing I wanna do is hurt you."

"Don't call me princess," I grumbled. "Stop calling me that. I hate it."

Sounded a little too harsh I know, but hopefully that got the message across and he would stop calling me it. Dad was taken aback.

"Okay," he responded. "Do you not want to go with me Christina, because I can leave if that is what you really want."

I shrugged miserably, my skinny arms smacking my boney hips as they flopped at my side with the movement.

"I don't know what I want," I said, my tone expressing my upset to which Dad made a move towards me, making Dean growl. "I'm sorry Daddy, for causing all this trouble."

"Baby, you are not causing any trouble," replied Dad, leveling himself with me. "I just wanna spend some time with my little girl, that's all. No hidden agenda here, okay. Just some time together."

At least the argument has died a quick death, hopefully it would resurrect itself again.

"Daddy, can you give me and Dean a couple of minutes?" I asked him, making my eyes go large like a puppy. "Please?"

"Sure," answered Dad, smoothing down my hair in a gentle manner before planting a quick kiss on my forehead. "I'm gonna go get some coffee, I'll be back soon."

His reply was very short and in a flash, the door closed behind him. I glanced up at my big brother.

"You're lip's bleeding" I pointed out in a small voice, aware that he was still pissed.

"I'm fine," he grunted in response, glaring down at me. "You really wanna go with him, be my guest."

"Dean, please," I said. "Why are you being this way?"

My brother shook his head at me, a glower still on his face.

"I'm not being anything Chris," he replied, making his way to the bathroom. "I told you, go ahead."

I followed him, I wasn't letting him shut the door in my face. Being moody was my job, not his.

"What?" Dean questioned abruptly, turning on his heels.

Placing my hands on my hips I stared up at him, I narrowed my eyes in questioning manner.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

If there was more information, stuff my brother didn't want to share with me.

"I don't wanna see you get hurt, Chrissie," he remarked. "You know what he can do, how he can treat you. You shouldn't witness that."

My brother got down on his haunches making himself leveled with me, he then cupped my face with his calloused hands.

"Chrissie, you should spend time with him if that's what you want to do," he said. "It's your choice."

I bit my lip, bringing my courage forward to ask the next question whilst praying I wasn't gonna get snapped at.

"What about you?" I questioned.

"What about me?" Dean replied. "You want me to go with I will, but I'm not doing it for him."

His hands came away from my face, although our gaze hadn't been distrupted.

"Why do you hate him?" I asked, cocking my head.

Seemed like a very stupid thing to say. Still, I was curious about my brother's answer.

"Are you serious? Look what he's done to you and Sammy," responded Dean. "He made us give up everything we had left to live this life Chris. Then he get's mad that this is the life we lead and takes it out on us. How am I supposed to feel? Besides, I don't hate him, I'm just not liking him all that much these days."

Like I've said before, my Dad is a good man and sometimes it's hard to be believe that fact.

"He's our Dad," I stated simply as I gazed at my brother. "You're not pissed off at me or anything? I'm really sorry about what I said to you last night."

It's a wonder that I got to sleep last night because of my guilt ridded conscience, but all the crying wore me out and I slept as soundly as a corpse until I had that nightmare.

"No, kid, that business is over and done with," Dean assured me. "Dad's just pissed me off, that's all. This has nothing to do with you. Promise."

I raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Really?" I asked.

A small half-hearted smile tugged at the corners of Dean's mouth, his bottom lip was still slightly bleeding.

"Really" he returned.

What choice do I make? Do I spend time with my Dad? Yes or No? My skittish mind was wary of the situation but it was my heart that eventually won. Can you guess my answer?

What do you think Chris's choice is? What was your opinion on this chapter? Feedback is great and also if there is any requests or ideas then I'm all ears.

Stay tuned!

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