"Don't you see? You have to run!"
I just stared at Jake. Why was he telling me this? What was going on?
We were standing in an open field, rain pouring down on us, but something wasn't right.
"Ally! Go! Now! Before they use your power!"
"NO!" I screamed at him. "I'm not leaving you, so you can just forget it!"
Tears streamed down his cheeks, and mine followed suit. I felt his sorrow, disappointment, fear… then he was on his knees, blood blossoming on his chest and streaming down his shirt.
Running to him felt like I was going through quicksand. The more I tried, the less ground I seemed to cover. I reached out to him, hoping, praying I would be able to at least touch him, take his pain away somehow…
Just when I was able to brush my fingers against his shoulder, a searing pain erupted from my chest. I looked down and was shocked to see blood pouring out of a wound similar to Jake's. Too similar…
Jake got up then, seemingly unharmed. His shirt was once again clean and he smiled at me.
"You passed," he said in a deep, echoing voice. His eyes flashed yellow and I screamed in fury and pain, then all went black.
I woke up with a start, feeling as if I got slugged in the head with a bat. I groaned and went to hold my head but dropped my arm when I remembered why it felt so bulky and heavy. What time was it?
"So, what are we going to do about this mess? I mean, we cant just take her with us, but we cant let her go back home, either."
My eyes flew open to the strange voice and I found myself laying on a bed in a motel room. I pushed myself to a sitting position and looked wildly around. I was alone in the room, on the bed furthest from the door. My arm was in a sling, wrapped in a hot pink cast… I had to get out.
I swung my legs off the side of the bed and tried to get up to run, but vertigo won me over and I stumbled into the bedside table, knocking the lamp into the wall and the alarm clock onto the floor. Black splotches swarmed my vision and I tried to steady myself.
I heard muffled voices and the door click with the key card.
"Hey, hey, hey," one of the voices said as they rushed me. I felt big hands on my shoulders as they pushed me gently back down on the bed. "Easy there, Ally. You're alright."
Who are you? I wanted to ask, but I couldn't find my voice. Color and light slowly entered my vision again as I found the face in front of me. Dr. Stephens? No… he's not a doctor. Sam.
I could feel his nervousy… it was making me nervous as well, taking my panic to a whole new level. I leaned forward, reaching to the bedside table where the Holy Bible rested, and swung the Good Book up to wack him in the head as hard as I could. There was definitely a thump and a yelp, but a millisecond later, my head was pounding harder than it had before and two pairs of hands had me immobile.
"Let… me… go!" I grunted and squeezed my eyes shut from the pain in my melon.
"What?" the other guy, whose name I couldn't recall, demanded. "And let you run off and get yourself killed?"
I froze at that. Killed? I was going to be sick.
"We told you last night, we're here to help you," Sam said.
I shook my head gingerly so not to make it fall off my shoulders. "If you want to help me, get me to a toilet."
Dean nodded at the girl. "Sammy, go get the Dramamine and a can of ginger ale out of the bag, will ya?"
"Yeah, sure."
Dean helped Ally to her feet, careful not to jostle her too much. She stumbled a few times to the bathroom, but as soon as she touched that cold tile, she shoved Dean hard and slammed the door shut, sliding the lock behind her.
"Ally? Ally!" Dean knocked hard on the door. "Unlock this door!"
Sam walked up with ginger ale in one hand and the medicine in the other. "What's going on?" he asked, confused.
Dean took a breath and folded his arms. "She shoved me out and locked the door!"
Sam grinned. "She shoved you out? Dude, she's like stick thin and five-foot-nothin' and you're telling me she shoved you out?"
"Hey!" Dean said defensively. "That girl's strength doesn't match her appearance… She's like wasabi sauce!"
"What?" Sam asked, severely confused.
"You know…" Dean smiled and turned to his little brother fully. "Only a little bit packs a big punch."
Sam shook his head and looked down. "Leave it to you to compare a girl to a condiment." He stepped closer to the door and knocked softly. "Ally? Ya wanna open up?"
The only answer he got was retching from the other side of the door.
"I have medicine and a drink for you, if you'll just open up…" Sam continued to knock on the door.
"She'll have to come out some time," Dean said simply. "We'll just wait until then."
Sam looked at Dean and then to the medication in his hand. "She needs this now, though."
"Yeah, well, she's not gunna die without it." He walked back to the bedside table and picked up a bottle of prescription medicine. "Here," he handed his little brother two blue pills, "leave this on the floor for her. If she wants it bad enough, she'll open up to take it."
Sam grabbed a crappy styrofoam cup from the counter to put the medicine in and set it next to the door along with the can of ginger ale. "Hey, your stuff is out here if you want it. It'll take away your nausea and numb ya up a little."
His answer was only more retching and a smart-aleck remark from Dean on how if he wasn't such a bitch, he could just pick the lock.
I really hope the maid does her job well, I thought as I flushed the toilet. I flipped my throbbing head around to rest my other cheek on the cool ceramic seat and tried to recall what all happened last night.
Momma went out. I babysat. Someone possessed Jake and broke my arm along with a few picture frames. I went to the hospital and met these two. Got a shot.
And then what?
I got a shot and then an x-ray? I couldn't be sure, but I wasn't about to remember much past that.
I leaned back against the door. The shot, I thought. It must have been the shot! I went all drowsy after that nurse gave it to me and I couldn't remember anything except for a few minutes after the shot was administered.
What really scared me, though, was I was in a strange motel room with two guys I don't know at all with God-knows-what after me and a killer headache.
My thoughts went numbly to the medicine right outside the door.
No. I would not show weakness in front of strangers. I was not going to let myself look like a freaking damsel in distress.
Instead, I decided to reach up to grab the rag hanging on the rack and ran it under the tub faucet to help cool my face.
But the other guy… Dean… he had a point. I couldn't stay in here forever. I had to eat eventually… but, no weakness.
I would wait until all this passed and then I would come out. The only problem is, though… How long would that be?
I sighed. Who were these guys, really? They claim to be doctors, then they admit to not being doctors, then they say they can help me. That I could get myself killed if I left.
Dear, God, were they stupid. No one could help me…I mean even if they actually knew what was going on and didn't think I was crazy for it. Seriously, though, it's not every day someone tells you she has something evil coming after her, talks to angels, and is a little psychic.
I hadn't told anyone just for the fear that I'd be committed. I complained about the headaches when the dreams and mood swings started, and then missed a little bit of school over the migraines that followed, but I found Tylenol didn't do much for me. From then on I just ignored my pounding head - for the most part - and tried to get a good grip on my new 'gift'.
I didn't know these guys, and they could just be bad news if not a walking trap, but I really didn't have much of a choice other than to trust them. At least, for now. Once my head was a little more together and I had a better grasp on what was going on, I could make a run for it.
I know I dozed off somewhere in the middle of my thoughts, but I was roused again by soft knocking on the door.
"Hey," one of guys said from outside. "You okay in there?"
"Yeah," I said. Wow, I sounded gruff. I leaned forward, the now warm rag falling into my lap. Warm? How long was I out?
I shakily got to my feet and opened the door, only to find a broad chest inches away from my face. I looked up warily.
"Hey, how're ya feeling?" the taller guy called Sam asked.
"I'm fine," I replied and cleared my throat a bit. "How long was I in there?"
"Around twenty minutes."
Ah.
He held out two blue pills and a can of ginger ale. "Here," he said. "It's for the pain."
More drugs? No, thank you. I smiled as best I could and took the can. "I said I'm fine."
"Suit yourself." He walked to the bedside table and put the pills into an orange prescription bottle.
After putting my can on the counter, I filled a disposable cup with tap water and started to swish the vomit aftertaste from my mouth. Sam was pacing the room looking nervously from me to the door and back to me.
I spit and turned to face him. "What's wrong with you?"
He looked up and took a deep breath. "Uh, nothing." He took a seat on the bed closest to the door. "You know, you should probably sit down and elevate that arm of yours to keep it from swelling up like a balloon."
I looked down at my new hot pink cast and grabbed my ginger ale. "Yeah, okay." I walked slowly over to the other bed and made myself comfortable, propping a fluffy pillow under my arm.
"So," I started awkwardly after a few minutes of silence, "where's your brother?"
Sam seemed to be thankful for a break in the dead air. "Oh, he went to check the missing person's file at the police department to make sure you haven't been filed yet."
My eyes widened. "Oh, God. I have to call my mom, tell her I'm okay, let her know where I am-"
"And tell her not to try to follow you," Sam interrupted.
Ah, crap, Sam thought. That came out wrong.
Ally was staring at him with a blank look on her face. Panic ripped through him.
"Uhh…I-" Sam swallowed nervously and tried again. "I didn't mean it that way."
Her eyes were icy. "Then, please, tell me what you do mean."
"What I mean is, it's not safe for you to go home. If you go, your family may get hurt… Maybe even killed."
She blanched and he kicked himself.
"Sorry," he looked at his folded hands in his lap. "I just need you to know the severity of the situation is all."
"Situation?" Ally whispered.
Sadness washed over Sam and he looked up at Ally. "Ally, I want to tell you everything - I swear, I do - but I need to know what you know, first. That way, we can fix this whole big mess." When she met his eyes, he noted they looked like a grayish-blue as opposed to the green he swore he saw earlier. He pulled himself back from the thought and continued, "I assume that since you've been having bad dreams and headaches for a while now, you must know what kind of…power you have."
"Speaking of which," she started, a new energy in her words, "how did you know that those things have been happening to me? You said something about it in the hospital last night, but you never answered when I asked about it."
He grinned and moved to sit across the bed from her. "Believe it or not, you're not the only one that this is happening to. My brother and I have come across quite a few of other psychics who have also been told they play a part in a war, or something like that."
Her brows furrowed. "Others? You mean, I'm not alone?"
A smile split his face. "Not at all… But I answered your question, so it's your turn." He leaned forward. "What is your power?"
She bit her lip and frowned. "Honestly?" He nodded quickly. "Well, it's kinda hard to explain… I can sorta feel the emotions of the people around me."
"Oh," he mused, "you're an empath. That doesn't sound too bad."
Ally snorted. "Oh, but it gets better. It's all unintentional, but I can also make those around me feel what I'm feeling." She looked down at her cast and started picking at the fluffy white gauze sticking out the edge. "I'm getting better at keeping my emotions at bay, but it's so hard. I mean, I cant run from how I feel for forever."
No kidding, Sam thought, his mind going straight to Dean.
"Well, can you answer another question of mine?" Ally looked innocently up at Sam as he stood.
"Sure."
"What are you hiding from me?"
This caught Sam off guard. He shot an eye at her. "What do you mean?"
She smiled. "I'll ask you a question, but you'll change the subject… Why?"
Sam pressed his lips together. What could he say? Hey, Ally, we're being stalked by a yellow-eyed demon because he wants to use us for our powers until we die. Oh, and did I mention that everyone we've met along the way has either tried to kill us or killed others then themselves?
"You know," she said, "when I asked what was wrong, you changed the subject so fast, I thought I got whiplash." Sam looked down guiltily at his clasped hands and Ally smiled to herself. "I'm not a little kid anymore. Whatever it is, I can take it."
"Just how old are you?" Sam asked.
Ally laughed a sweet, musical laugh. "There you go again, changing the subject on me."
Sam met her eyes with a grin. "Sorry, I guess I'm just curious." Which, he was, but he had every intention to tell this girl the whole truth. After what she'd been through, he owed her that much.
She shrugged. "It's cool. And for what it's worth, I'm eighteen."
Eighteen? That doesn't fit the pattern, either. "Cool, I'm twenty-two."
She nodded. "How old is your brother?"
"Twenty-six." Why would Yellow-Eyes get someone younger? It didn't make any sense.
"You're making that face again," Ally stated simply, breaking into his thoughts.
"What face?"
"The one where you scrunch up your eyebrows and pinch your lips." She giggled and pointed with her good hand to her cheek. "It makes you get cute little dimples," she said, then looked down quickly with wide eyes.
Sam smiled, his cheeks flaming. "You feeling okay?"
She shook her head gingerly, her eyebrows furrowed. "You made me go off and say something I didn't need to." She looked up at him, her green eyes alight with stubbornness.
Wait, green?
"Sorry," Sam said with a grin, knowing full well what she meant. "I tend to be the more emotional one out of me and Dean."
"Don't be so sure about that," Ally said quietly. They stayed silent for a moment, Sam wondering what the heck she meant. "Oh!" she said suddenly, making Sam jump. "Sorry for hitting you upside the head with the Bible earlier."
"Ah, it's okay," Sam smiled. "Didn't even hurt." But oh, did it. Amazingly enough, though, the adrenaline rush of getting this girl under control made him immediately forget about his head. He laughed, rubbed the place of impact absent-mindedly, and froze.
The spot that should have been a little raised wasn't. No pain, tenderness, nada.
What the-
Just then, the door knob clicked and Dean was there, holding it open with his foot, his arms full with cheap groceries.
"Hey, Sammy! Come get some of these, will ya?" Dean looked up and made eye contact with Ally. "Well," he said, a goofy smile plastered on his face, "look who made it out of the bathroom."
