For the next two hours, Sam does research on the name 'Argent' and 'California', and comes up with some disturbing stories dating back numerous of years in Beacon Hills, California- most importantly, the fact about one Kate Argent burning down the Hale home with adults and children still inside. Dean paces and grumbles about helping out a chick who runs with monsters, but Sam is quick to reply that these 'monsters' fall in the gray category. Yes, they kill monsters, but it's not like they haven't run across some that were quite innocent in the past. Mind you, innocent monsters are rare to come across, but these in California have a freakin' angel vouching for them. And after digging into some lore on the internet, Sam found some information on another breed of werewolves that didn't seem too.. monstrous.
"I don't know, Sammy. Do you really think this is a good idea?"
"..maybe? She comes from a family of hunters, Dean. She'll eventually remember how to take care of herself and at least with her around, we can take on the easy cases and rest up some. We deserve it."
"Yeah, but.. babysitting?" He scoffs. "I get the girl got a shitty deal, but why do we have to take care of the angels' mistake?"
"'Cause Cas trusts us. If I'm being honest, I say we do it," Sam shrugs. "It's an easy gig and we can really use the time off from the big cases."
The elder Winchester grumbles some more before he actually gives the thought any more consideration. "Whatever." Dean walks over to his bed and plops down, grumbling about how he can't wait to get back to the bunker. Interlocking his fingers behind his head, he stretches out comfortably before crossing his legs at the ankles. "Tell Cas we'll babysit, but if her monsters don't check out when we eventually deliver her, we're gankin' those sonnuvabitches."
"Got it."
As Dean closes his eyes to get some much needed shut-eye, Sam continues his research. The only kitsunes they've run across have all been of the bad variety.. and the hellhound? He really hopes there's a different breed of that, too.
xXx
Obviously, the internet isn't the best place to research lore because there's no telling what's real and what isn't. There's a lot on kitsunes from the Chinese mythology- so many different kinds of those creatures- but there's not a lot on hellhounds. Banshees immediately ping on the wailing woman, but that's too obvious for Sam's taste and he can't wait until they're back at the bunker so he can look through their library which has legit information.
Nothing pops up on werecoyotes, but there is something that had intrigued the hunter right off the bat- "sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are." Sam had then sat for a couple more hours, researching every type of were-creature he could find before Castiel reappeared.
Dean wakes from his nap just as the sun is setting and the flapping of wings make the brothers tense for what's to come.
"Have you come to a decision?" Crystal blue eyes dart between Dean and Sam, and Sam shifts uncomfortably.
"Uh, yeah, but first I have a question."
"Go on."
"Are we even allowed to tell her about monsters? You said her memories have to come on their own, but how can we not tell her if hunting monsters is what we do and she's to tag along?"
Castiel sighs. "I thought about that after I departed earlier," he admits. "She'll know not is all that it seems when she wakes. She will know her torturer is a monster, but not what kind, and it'll be up to you two to explain as kindly as possible about what monsters lurk out there in the world. However, you can not tell her that she's part of a werewolf pack. That information has to come to her all on it's own."
"Okay," Sam says. "We'll do it then."
Castiel immediately looks to Dean and the elder Winchester reluctantly nods. "Yeah, we'll do it. At least then we can get some rest while helping this chick remember her old life."
Castiel faintly smiles at them in relief, he disappearing without another word. Seconds later, he reappears with a girl in his arms and lays her out on Sam's bed. Dark hair is cut short- just below her shoulders- and she's dressed in a dirty white dress that stops above her knees and a dark green military jacket. Black heeled ankle boots adorn her feet.. and it's then that the brothers realize what the dirt clinging to the girl's body is.
Cas literally took the girl from her grave.
"She'll wake when she's ready," Cas informs them, staring down at the girl guiltily. "She'll need food and water when she wakes so it'd be best to have it ready. You might also want to find her different clothes."
"Dammit, Cas! We don't know how to shop for girls. How are supposed to- we don't even know the size of her.. underthings," Dean says, lowering his voice towards the end.
Sam snorts and grins. "I'm sure her.. underthings," he does his best to stifle his chuckle. "-will do until we're back on the road. I have a pair of running shorts in the trunk of the car and we can lend her a shirt until we can get her better clothing."
"Very well. If that is all, I must return to Heaven. It's.. chaotic once more."
Dean and Sam have no chance to utter another word before Castiel disappears on them, and then the brothers are left with an unconscious girl in their room.
"Well, you deal with that," Dean gestures at the girl's too still body. "If she wakes screaming, gag her until she's calm enough to talk. I'm just gonna go.. get some food."
Dean swipes the keys to the Impala off the nightstand and marches towards the door, Sam barely managing to get out, "Bring back something healthy", before the door's shut behind him. Left alone, the younger Winchester sighs and reluctantly glances around the room for something that will work as a gag.
It's not like he wants to gag her, but Dean's right. They're currently in a motel room and if Allison wakes screaming and attracts attention, it'll be bad.
xXx
She wakes with a jolt, heart pounding and panic swelling. She immediately knows she's in the wrong place- it's brighter than it's supposed to be and she's not on the rock hard ground. A choked off sob escapes her throat as her hands fist into bed sheets below her, and then there's a man looming over her as he tries shushing her.
"Hey.. hey, it's okay. You're safe."
Fear bursts through the veins of her entire being at the sound of his voice, and she scoots as far away as she can. Only in doing so, she falls about two feet to the ground. She lands mostly on her back and elbows before the rest of her body joins her on the floor, and she cries out in fear as another man joins the first.
"Hey, no. None of that now," the taller of the two says calmly. His hands are held out in front of him, palms out, and he takes a step back when her eyes widen. Taking that moment of his hesitation, she scoots frantically across the floor so her back is up against the wall. "It's okay now. Really. You're safe."
"I- I.." She gulps, gaze frantic as it darts all over the room and her body trembles in fear. Her brain catalogs the differences between this place and wherever she was before as something good, but her heart is still telling her to be afraid. "H-how? Wh-where am I?"
"Currently, we're in Indiana." The shorter of the two men takes a hesitant step forward before squatting, he then rolling a bottled water towards her. She pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them, tears welling up in her eyes, but not falling. "As for the how, would you believe us if I said angels?" Shocked, dark brown eyes dart up from the water bottle to meet green, his very expression serious and not at all joking. And for some unknown reason, she believes what he's saying. "I've been in your position before, kid. Just not as long as you." As he says this, his right hand moves slowly to lift up the short sleeve of his shirt over his left bicep. And there for her eyes to see is the very faint outline of a hand print. "I'm sure you got one of these as well."
"H-his eyes.. black," she rasps.
"That was a demon," the other man says- the taller one with his dark brown hair cut around his chin. He frowns as he mulls over his words, hesitantly telling her what she needs to hear. "You were in.. Hell, but the angels saved you. They pulled you out."
"W-why? What m-makes me so s-special?"
"'Cause you weren't supposed to be down in the pit in the first place," the squatting man grunts.
She flinches as she's reminded of the pit- chains and lightning and maniacal laughter making her heart beat double.
"Hey, deep breaths, kid. In and out. They can't get to you anymore."
Her eyes open and it's only then she realizes her chest is heaving with breaths that feel like they are not delivering enough oxygen to her lungs. The tears in her eyes finally fall even though she frantically swipes at her cheeks to get rid of them, and then the taller of the two is squatting down as well. "Here. Watch me. Try and match your breathing to mine."
She watches as the man takes a dramatic deep breath in and holds it, and then releases it slowly. He repeats the process until she's taking deep breaths of her own and holding them before releasing them along with him, and then she's the one repeating the process until her chest doesn't feel as constricted anymore.
"My name's Sam," the man then smiles- the man with the lengthier hair. "And this is my brother Dean." The green-eyed man gives her a terse nod before standing, he then walking further into the room before taking a seat at a small round table. When her gaze darts back to the one who calls himself Sam, he smiles. "Do you remember your name?"
She gulps before thinking about her name, her mind drawing a blank. Sadly, she shakes her head to him that no, she doesn't remember.
"Allisoooonnnn!"
Her eyes clamp shut and her hands fly up to her ears. Her chest heaves with uncontrolled sobs as the voice echoes in her mind and when two large hands fall to her shoulders, she screams out and starts punching in a blind panic.
"Hey.. hey! It's Sam. Snap out of it!" She keeps screaming and struggling, and then a hand clamps down over her mouth to muffle all the noise she's making. "Shh! We're in a motel room," Sam tells her, grasping both her wrists with his free hand. "If you make too much noise, you're gonna get the cops called on us. We're trying to help you here, okay? You need to stop yelling."
She seems to calm after that, her gaze locked on his as the fog clouding her mind lifts. The second she calms, however, something seems to slot into place in her mind. "..mmphson."
Sam's brow furrows and he seems to sag in relief now that she's not struggling against him. "What?" He says before pulling his hand away from her mouth when he feels her jaw tick beneath his palm.
"Allison," she gulps. "My name's.. Allison. Right?"
This time, it's her brow that furrows in confusion as she wracks her brain for something- anything, really- and Sam glances over his shoulder at his brother who's sitting rigidly at the table. "Uh, how'd you come up with that?" Dean asks. He casts Sam a cautious look before looking back at her.
"I- she screamed it, I think. She sounded sad. Heartbroken."
Silence lingers and then Sam's slowly standing and sitting on the edge of the bed so his forearms are resting on his parted knees. "Who's screaming it?"
"..I don't know."
Both Sam and Dean sigh, and Sam continues. "The angel who saved you- Castiel- he told us that your name is Allison. He gave us a bit more information about your past because you were sort of just dropped on us, but he warned us to not tell you anything. Your memories have to come on their own. We can't force them. I'm sorry."
She- Allison..? It oddly feels right- nods distractedly while letting everything sink in.
Monsters shouldn't exist, but somehow they do. Oddly enough, she's at ease with the talk of angels and demons. Monsters somehow feel familiar, and these two men- these brothers- that know about everything don't seem to faze her. She's not sure she really trusts them, but she does trust the fact they're not going to hurt her. 'Cause if they were, if they were anything like that man- that.. demon?- then they'd have already done it.
Her stomach grumbling ceases any further musings and wide eyes dart up to Sam who's fighting off a grin. "Drink," he tells her while gesturing to the water bottle next to her feet. "Your body's been.. out of commission for a while and it needs sustenance. I'll make you some soup to get your started."
Sam stands and moves back into the room, heading for a small kitchenette where there are several cans of soup lined up on the counter. He pops open a can and pours it into a small pot before taking it over to an equally small stove and setting it atop one of the burners. As he stands there and waits for the soup to heat up, Allison slides her gaze over to Dean who's ignoring her in favor of his own food on the table before him.
Her stomach continues to grumble, so Allison finally listens and reaches for the water bottle. She struggles with the twist-off lid, but when she manages to open it, the cool water does wonders for her parched throat. She eventually stands up on shaky legs and stretches out her aching limbs before smoothing out the white cotton dress she finds herself wearing. A green jacket is thrown atop her dress- a jacket that's definitely more masculine than her dress leads to believe- but the dirt clinging to her clothing is what throws her for a loop.
"Why am I covered i-in dirt?" She asks as she stumbles over to the table where Dean is sitting.
"You died."
A bowl clatters to the floor and Sam whirls around. "Dude!"
"What?" He frowns, shrugging. "We're not here to coddle her, Sammy. If Cas wanted to baby her, he'd have left her somewhere else."
Sam opens his mouth to retort, but deep down he knows his brother is right. So instead, he glances at Allison only to find her blinking in shock at Dean. "I- I died?"
"Yep. You kicked the bucket," Dean continues. He shoves a couple fries into his mouth and chews. "But don't ask us how. We don't even know that. Guess it's just a memory that has to come back all on it's own."
Allison eventually shakes herself from her stupor when a steaming bowl of soup is place in front of her, but she overlooks that in favor of staring down at her clothing. "So I w-was buried i-in this? That's kind o-of morbid." Dean snorts and busies himself with shoving more food in his mouth. "Can I t-take a shower?"
"Soon," Sam replies. "But first, eat. You really do need the food."
Two chapters in one day. Woo!
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