DISCLAIMER: Owns nothing

I am sooo sorry guys, with all the other stuff going on lately I have been neglecting this story - my first fic, my baby - and due to some life changes have been completely oblivious of how to write what I want to happen. Hopefully you loyal readers are still going to read this one. I'm trying guys

Sam followed Shamus to a small garden type looking area. There was an iron fence that came roughly up to his calf and surrounded a fairly large area. Inside the fence were many markers scattered around the area. Sam paused outside the fence and looked back towards Shamus, unsure of what to do. He shifted Alison's body in his arms.

"I…"

"This is a very special place to Alison, Samuel. It is protected and safe, once you step inside I believe that you will know where to take her." He bowed his head and quietly left.

Sam tightened his grip on Alison and turned cautiously towards the fence. Not knowing what to expect he stepped over it and suddenly felt the change. It was calm – like he had just stepped through a wall and everything on the other side was fuzzy, but here it was clear.

He looked down at the first marker that was closest to him. It was a silver pentagram with the words Samuel Colt engraved along the inside lines. He looked up from the marker and glanced around the rest of the serene surroundings within the fence. All the makers were for different hunters.

He began walking from one to the other until he came across one with his own father's name bared across marble and surrounded by an untouched salt line. He knelt down and laid Alison's body gently beside the marker – and that's when he noticed the paw engraved in the marble. He was speechless.

Looking down at her sleeping form, he finally let it hit him at how close he came to losing her – losing her like he lost his father. Not being able to tell her one last time exactly how he felt, how he's always felt. He moved his hand to stroke her hair. It was dirty – mixed with blood, sweat and mud but that was okay because she was alive.

He stretched out beside her and whispered everything he was feeling into her ear, all the while still stroking her tangled hair.

Dean wasn't quiet sure where he was supposed to be taking Derik, but the small cabin on the far corner of the property with smoke coming out of the chimney seemed like a good plan. Derik was slowly coming to, which was a good thing because Dean wasn't sure how much longer he could hold up the Irish man's weight. Who would have thought that there was so much weight underneath the guy's build – he wasn't really that big of a guy.

By the time he pushed the door open, Derik was almost walking by himself but still Dean helped him over to the small double bed. He practically fell onto it. "Thanks, Dean – I know that you didn't need to…"

Dean snorted. "Right, cause after what you did for my brother I was just gonna leave you to collapse and knock yourself out."

Derik scowled. "I already told you, I didn't just do it for your brother. There were some things that I needed to settle, and like it or not Alison is like family to me too."

Dean wondered around the room picking up small objects and placing them back down. "Right, cause I'm sure that you feel so – sisterly – to her."

"She means enough to me that I was willing to die for her!" He snapped. His eyes flashed and the room got five degrees cooler.

Dean raised his brows and licked his lips. "Right, I think it's about time that we talked about that."

Derik inhaled deeply through his nose and narrowed his eyes. "Talk about what?"

Dean walked towards the bed, knowing full well that Derik was vulnerable. "About how you seem to be so…in tune with everything, and about what the hell just went on out there." Dean pointed towards the rock that only minutes ago held Alison's dead body.

Derik looked up a Dean with a stony gaze which would have looked more menacing if he hadn't been so beat up. He dropped his shoulders and let out a weary sigh. "I'm not going to get rid of you until I tell you, am I?"

Dean grabbed a chair and flipped it around to straddle it. "No."

Derik eyed him and gave him a hesitant smile. "Then I'm glad you are a hunter, because some of the shit that I can do is pretty unbelievable. I guess you could say that I have connections in low places."

"What does that mean?"

He smiled again. "Let's start from the beginning so that nobody gets confused." Dean nodded. "My father used to be preacher, and I use the word in past tense because after my mother died he no longer felt the call of God, if you will. While my mother was pregnant with me she - " Derik's brows dipped and he cleared his throat. "She became possessed. It was lucky, for me at least, that she was far enough along that my father had time to save me."

"I'm taking it that your mother didn't make it through the exorcism."

Derik nodded in jerky motions. "No. When she was alive she was a healer. Now I don't want you to think that she was one of those wacko's that think they can magically cure cancer, because that's not what a healer does." He shifted on the bed and winced. "Damn that girl is strong, let me tell you that the shoulder wounds – they were not fun."

Dean had a flash of Alison being yanked towards the ceiling and her excruciating cry of pain. "I have a feeling they weren't meant to be fun." Derik's lips thinned and Dean cleared his throat. "So what exactly is a healer?"

"A healer is someone who can feel nature, connections to the undercurrents that most people do not possess the skill to feel. They are so in tune with life's environment that they know and understand how to use it for gain. It's a partnership."

Dean held up his hands and let them drop. "Like an 'ask and you shall receive' kind of thing?"

Derik nodded. "Yes, exactly."

Dean straightened. "I'm still not seeing how that can help you to bring a person back to life that had been dead for over three hours."

Derik gave him a tired smile. "We'll have to backtrack just a little bit to answer that one. My mother was a healer and that was passed down to me, however because she was possessed for two months while pregnant with me my genetic makeup was slightly – altered." He laughed on an exhaled breath. "It's like my mother's healing gift was mixed with demonic vibes. It's made me quite powerful as you can see, because I can do some things that a demon can do without the repercussions."

Dean shifted. "Are you saying…"

"That I can resurrect people?" Derik laughed again. "I actually had never tried that before. You see because I'm a healer I don't actually give anything to people, I take from them."

"Alison, you took her wounds."

"Yes, I took them on for her and as the result she took my breath."

"And you had no clue that it was going to work?"

"Oh no, I knew that she would be able to take my breath – but I had no clue if I would be able to survive the injuries that she had."

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "Why would you do that? Why would you trade your life for hers?"

He sighed and sunk lower into the bed. "There are a few reasons. One is that I truly do love Alison and would do anything for her – including die. The second is that I have a responsibility to myself that if I can help someone, I do it no matter the consequences. And the third is between your father and me."

"My father?"

"Yes, John and I had a disagreement the last time that I saw him and we parted on bad terms."

"Huh." Dean scratched his head and looked at Derik intently for a few minutes. He smiled. "So, why are you such an ass?"

Derik burst out laughing and as a result hunched over in pain. "Damn it, you are a prick Dean."

Dean laughed and turned as the door to the cabin was opened and Shamus walked in. "I need a few minutes with my son, Dean." Dean stood up immediately and nodded at Derik one last time. As he was closing the door he heard Shamus speaking. "What you did was completely reckless, Derik."

Dean walked away from the cabin and in the morning light could make out Sam's shape standing in the distance. He could barely see Alison's form lying on the ground less than a foot away from Sam.

Sam looked down at Alison and smiled. She looked so peaceful with barely any traces of the pain that she had been in only hours ago. If it hadn't been for the blood and dirt smears on her face and clothes, Sam could have said they were in the past again.

Sam was sitting in the dark in the kitchen at one o'clock in the morning. He couldn't sleep, not that it was really something new because he had been having trouble sleeping ever since their father had brought Alison home – and it wasn't just the animal noises that she made at night either.

Nope, there was just something about the girl that set Sam on edge. Sure he was attracted to her, but it wasn't just the fact that he was hot for her that kept him up. She was different, and that made her dangerous. She was special, and that made her even more dangerous.

He was so lost in thought that he missed the first telltale signs that Alison was changing. Then he heard the scratching and the whimpering that came right after. Sam stood up and walked towards Alison's room. He paused outside, unsure if he should even bother to try and help. Alison would get pissy for him seeing her when she's out of control, but if Dean gets woken up for the third time that week he'd be equally pissy.

He opened the door, knowing that Alison would get over it faster than Dean would. He stepped inside and closed the door again before searching the dark room for her. She was lying on the floor in the far corner with her green eyes trained on his form.

"Hey, Alison." She continued to look at him through hooded eyes. "Umm, I'm glad that you stopped scratching cause Dean will probably have a hissy fit if he loses precious sleeping time again." Her eyes didn't move and he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "This was such a stupid idea."

He was about to turn and leave when he remember that the last time she had gone ape shit had been while they were at school. Dean had made quick work of getting her into the car and on the way home while Dean had his music blasting she had calmed right down.

He kept his eyes locked on hers and started to hum Black Sabbath's Heaven and Hell. Her ears twitched and Sam took it as a good sign and kept on humming. Her head perked up and cocked to the side like she was trying to figure out exactly what he was doing.

Her body convulsed, but other than that there were no signs that she was starting to change. Sam watched her more closely and realized that she was trying to prevent the change from happening – he wasn't sure why until her eyes met his. They were pleading with him.

He turned around to face the wall and kept humming until he heard he heavy panting and distinct padding of two human feet along the wood floor. He heard the rustle of clothes.

"FYI for next time you wanna play hero, there's no point in talking because I can't understand you."

He turned around with a snappy come back on his lips but it died on his tongue when he saw her back to him and pulling a shirt over her head. He turned back around and tried not to visualize ripping her clothes back off. He tried to keep his voice neutral. "Trust me, it's less of a hero thing and more of a I don't want to have to put up with bitchy Dean thing."

"Right, cause it could never be about just you and me." She mumbled.

He turned around to find her looking out the window with her arms crossed. It would have seemed defensive if he hadn't caught the subtle shaking. "How many times a night do you have nightmares?"

She turned her head to look at him. "Honestly?" He nodded and she looked back out the window. "Too many too count." She dropped her arms and moved over to the bed, climbing onto it and lying on top of the covers.

He was about to leave when she spoke again. "I'm sorry if I snapped at you."

He took it as an opening. "If?"

She smiled. "Okay, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just – I don't like not having control over myself, and when people see that it makes me feel vulnerable. And I hate feeling vulnerable."

"It's okay, I understand." Her eyes darted away from his. "I guess I'll go now." He backed towards the door and had his hand around the knob.

"Sam, wait." He looked at her expectantly and he could see her face darken in the moonlight. "My last dream…" She brought her hands up to fidget with them over her stomach. "It was…I kinda don't wanna be alone right now."

"Okay." Sam looked around the room and moved to sit on the trunk by the window.

"Sam." He was trying to avoid her gaze but hesitantly brought it back to her. "Would you just…lay with me?"

He was up instantly. "Whatever you want."

Sam glanced up to see the sun making its way through the trees. It was hard to believe that they had been in Lander less than twenty-four hours ago, when so much had happened in the time span. For some reason he had been given a second chance, and no matter what he was going to make it work.

He got down on the ground and laid beside Alison again. He wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. "Whatever you want."