For the next couple of days, Allison's treated to a complete walk-through of her temporary home and she's surprised at just how big the place is (the kitchen, the numerous bedrooms and offices, the garage, the weapons firing range.. hell, they even have their very own dungeon! And the knowledge- there's so much knowledge down in the bunker library).
She has a front row seat to Charlie's upbeat personality and finds the redhead a shining beacon of light when she can feel herself retreating into the dark recesses of her mind. The redhead tends to talk at Allison, so more often than not Allison finds herself listening intently to the elder female as they bond through their disastrous attempts at baking. Allison wonders how it is that Charlie came to meet the Winchesters, and Charlie tells her how she had a monster dick of a boss- who she didn't know was an actual monster at first- who paid her to hack into a hard drive. Only when she had a break through, she found some odd documents about monsters, thought her boss was a weirdo, but then saw some actual monsters eating a co-worker of hers down in the parking garage and proceeded to freak the hell out. The Winchesters then found her, she reluctantly helped them with their case, and then they helped her get out of town when her part was over with.
Charlie had had herself a new life for a while, only for a different monster to turn up and start killing off some friends of hers. The Winchesters had picked up the case and ran into her once more, and after that she couldn't deny that monsters existed anymore. She secretly did her own research on monsters after that, she then coming up with the idea to make an app that detailed all sorts of creatures, so every now and then when she stumbled upon a case she could readily pass it along to the brothers with the right monster.
Allison feels for Charlie- for being dragged into a world of monsters when she obviously had a pretty normal life going on for her- and something in the back of her mind whispers that she's been there, done that. She wrinkles her nose at the thought of ever being a normal girl because a life of monsters is what feels normal to her, not being someone who worried about bills, boys and the latest fashion trend. Or whatever it is that girls nowadays worried about.
Eventually, she asks the Winchesters just how they were introduced to the life of hunting monsters and is treated to a moment of awkward silence. Charlie quickly excuses herself to her room to finish up Allison's I.D and papers, and Dean gruffly gives her a very short version of their story. Sam, on the other hand, fills in the blanks and explains further when Dean tries to roll right on through everything they'd been through.
She's absolutely floored to realize they kick started the apocalypse and just who exactly they're the true vessels for (Lucifer and Michael), and she scowls at the fact that the Winchesters- even though they're some of the best Hunters out there- are ostracized in the hunting community because of that. It wasn't like doubt didn't flitter through her mind when realizing their hand in the apocalypse, but she did what the other Hunters didn't do. She gave the Winchesters a chance to explain themselves and actually gets angry at all the manipulation the brothers had been put through by both angels and demons.
So needless to say, Allison doesn't think twice about letting her guard completely fall around the Winchesters after hearing their story.
The day Charlie is set to leave, Dean makes a quick run into town. Sam is glued to his laptop with a possible lead on a case a couple towns over, and Allison spends Charlie's last hour at the bunker going through her brand new iPad that Charlie's loaded with her monster app.
"So these are all the monsters you've come into contact with?" Allison's lounging on Charlie's bed, swiping through the various monsters while Charlie packs her bag.
"Sam and Dean, yeah. Me, not so much," the redhead confesses. "I've just taken what information they have or questioned them about and put this all together. There are many monsters which are just myth, at this point, and I just wanted something more concrete with monsters and their history that's already been proven."
"I see," Allison murmurs. "So this is your.. beastiary?" She asks, trying the word out with a frown.
"Beasta- what?"
"Beastiary," Allison says again with more conviction. "It's a- it's uh," she frowns as she wracks her brain for the words. "It's a book of monsters- their history. Something that's usually passed down the family line so others can know what's out there or add in other monsters that have yet to be added in."
"Beastiary," Charlie drawls, letting the word roll off her tongue several times. "Huh. Did you remember that from before? I like it."
"Like what?" Both girls turn their attention to the door where Dean's strutting through, a plastic bag in hand.
"Beastiary," Charlie smiles. "Apparently that's what a book of monsters is called. It gets passed down from generation to generation."
Dean's nodding along, digging through his bag before pulling out a small, thick rectangular box and tosses it near Allison's lap. "Fitting. Can't keep calling dad's journal Dad's journal. Or Book of Monsters. We're not in Harry Potter, Charlie."
The redhead pouts and Allison grins distractedly as she picks up a cellphone box. "I think I remember that series. Magic, right? Witches and wizards."
"Bingo, kid, and that's yours," he says. "My number has already been programmed in it as well as Sammy's and Charlie's."
"Thank you." Allison opens the box to find an iPhone nestled inside.
"Mhm. You'll need it." Dean then looks to Charlie and tucks his hands inside his jean's pockets. "You all packed up?"
"Yes, sir-ee. I already gave Allison our parting gift-"
"Which apparently I'm gonna have to fight Sam for," Allison interrupts with a grin.
"-so you're helping me to my car," Charlie finishes. "And you, Alli, need to shoot me a quick text so I can have your number saved."
"Will do."
"Alright, alright. Let's go."
Allison and Charlie share a brief hug as Dean watches on, and then Allison's shoving her new phone into the back pocket of her jean shorts and collecting her iPad. She follows after the both of them, but parts ways when they head for the stairs and she stays in the library portion of the bunker that houses a majority of the books. Sam's behind the screen of his laptop as he has been for that last couple of hours and Allison takes a seat across from him.
Setting up the iPad with it's portable keyboard, she settles in only to look up several minutes later when she feels someone's gaze on her.
"Is that Charlie's iPad?"
"Mine now," her lips faintly twitch. "Charlie got a new one so she gave me her old one."
"Does it have- it has the monster app, doesn't it?"
"Yes," she chuckles. "My very own portable beastiary." Sam seems to mull over the word Allison's just thrown out there and when an understanding light flares in his eyes, Allison smirks. "She has the iPads rigged, so if she updates an entry or adds a new one on the main iPad, it automatically uploads to mine. She even showed me how to add an entry of our own."
Sam sighs dejectedly. "So unfair. I've wanted one since she showed it to me."
"Well then I guess you're lucky I'm sticking around for now, huh? Here, switch." She pushes the iPad towards him and steals the laptop for herself. "Did you find a case yet?"
"Actually, yeah," he says. He eyes the iPad with interest before he starts swiping and tapping away, and Allison reads a bit of the article Sam had just been looking at. "There are some people- teenagers, really- mysteriously being impaled in their sleep. No signs of a break-in, no struggle, and no witnesses."
Allison mumbles, "That's depressing."
"What is?"
She merely points to the screen when Dean saunters up to the table and he reads over her shoulder. "Huh. Could be a monster thing."
Sam nods. "Exactly what I was thinking."
"Wanna check it out?"
"Definitely. We've been sitting around for too long."
"Okay. We leave in twenty."
Allison watches as Dean immediately leaves the room and turns her attention to Sam. When Sam notices her staring, he suddenly turns sheepish and guilty. "So I guess I'll just read up on the lore then?"
"Allison, I'm sorry. I momentarily forgot-"
"It's okay. It's fine." She flashes him a dimpled grin. "You boys do your thing and I'll hold down the fort. I'm not ready to be out and about yet."
When he sees that she's actually okay with being left behind, Sam heaves a small sigh. He powers off the iPad and sets it aside before pushing back from the table and standing. "We shouldn't be too long. The case is only a couple towns over."
"It's fine, Sam. Really. Go get changed before Dean starts yelling."
Sam flashes her one last sheepish smile before he leaves to go get dressed, and Allison's gaze falls to the laptop and frowns at the case they're about to work. She sighs sadly at the fact that teenagers are dying and closes the lid, she then reaching back across the table for the iPad. She's so engrossed in reading up on monsters that she doesn't realize when Sam and Dean rejoin her in the room. She's reading up on the differences between various witches when the sound of guns cocking break her concentration and when she looks up, Allison has to do a double take. Gone are the shaggy/messy hair, plaid and jeans, and it's place is slicked/gelled hair, slacks, button-down dress shirts with ties, and long wool coats.
"I, um, wow. Fake feds, huh?" She wills the urge to blush to go away and subtly gulps. Well, at least she thinks she does so subtly.
"Would you look at that, Sammy. Little Argent here thinks we're pretty."
"I do not!"
"Do, too," Dean smirks as he finishes holstering his weapon at his hip and his badge inside his jacket pocket. "So adorable."
"Whatever," she grumbles. Her gaze then darts to Sam who can't quite hide the amused tilt of his lips. "But I will admit you boys do clean up nice."
Sam catches her gaze then, his grin broadening. "You sure you gonna be okay here?"
"Yeah. I have loads of lore to read through that will hopefully, and painlessly, jog some memories. I also have my phone on me in case you need me to research something. I'll be fine, Sam."
"Yeah, Sammy, she'll be fine. Stop smothering her."
"I'm not-"
"Let's go!"
Sam huffs as Dean starts marching out the room, he offering an amused Allison a shrug before following.
xXx
Allison spends the first couple of hours reading after having made herself a rather stacked sandwich (her appetite's been a little out of whack what with she wanting to eat everything in sight). There's only so much her brain and eyes can take of the small print, and she eventually decides to wander around the bunker.
With the iPad tucked under her arm and her phone in her back pocket, Allison soon finds herself wandering into the weapon's range. There are various hand guns and rifles and shotguns on display at the left wall, and she knows the drawers below them are all types of ammunition. There's even a station to the right of the drawers that she knows has machinery and tools so they could make their own bullets.
On the wall to her right, there's swords and knives, bows and crossbows. Arrows and quivers are shelved neatly beside it all, but Allison has no idea what is in the drawers below them.
The bows, however, is what catch her attention for some reason and then her mind supplies that she used to win a lot of archery competitions when she was younger. So wanting to test out her abilities without being embarrassed by either Winchester, Allison sets out towards the bows. She doesn't know what any of them are or which one she should try, so she brings up the iPad and does a little research. After that's all said and done, she chooses a recurve bow and a few of the appropriate arrows. She quickly rummages through the drawers and finds an arm guard that will protect her inner forearm and an odd looking black leather glove that the internet tells her is a thumb shooting glove.
Excitement bubbling after watching a few tutorial videos online, Allison heads for the range that's towards the center of the room with targets set up at the far end of said room. She sets down the four arrows she'd taken with her and lays them out on the small counter top before her, she taking a deep calming breath before picking one up and knocking it. It takes her another few moments for her hands to stop trembling and when she deems herself calm enough, she takes aim and pulls the string back.
One breath in. One breath out. Instead of flying, however, the arrow merely clatters down to the counter top when she releases.
"What the..?" She grumbles.
Not one to be deterred, Allison tries again. The second arrow does pretty much the same, but the third actually makes it a foot in front of her. Allison has no idea what she's doing wrong, but she tries one last time. The final arrow flies towards it's intended target, but it merely it's the concrete wall and clatters to the floor.
"Well," Allison sighs to herself. "I should have expected this."
She collects the arrows and places everything back in it's appropriate place. Before she can leave the room, though, the daggers on the wall catch her attention. Her fingers itch to touch one, so she grabs up the nearest one. Only when she has the blade in hand, it's like her appendage has a mind of it's own and expertly flips and swivels the blade in hand several times. Her eyes widen in surprise when she realizes what she's just done, but instead of being excited she hurriedly places the blade back in it's place and rushes from the room.
She honestly has no idea how she just did that.
xXx
Another few hours later and Allison's getting restless. The brothers had left a little after noon, and it's now nearing seven at night. Bored and hungry, she takes out her phone and unlocks it so she can freely look through her three programmed contacts. Highlighting Sam's name, she brings up a new text message.
To: Sammy W.
Where you guys at? I'm hungry, but I need to know how much food to make.
She's not sure how long it takes them to work a case, so she's pleasantly surprised that it only takes Sam seven minutes to reply.
From: Sammy W.
ETA's forty minutes or so.
From: Dean W.
Make burgers for all. And fries. Crispy fries.
Dean's sudden text has Allison grinning, she mentally picturing Sam asking Dean how long until they were home because she was hungry, and Dean lighting up at the fact she was making food willingly.
From: Sammy W.
Ignore the adult child. Make whatever you want, but enough for the three of us.
From: Sammy W.
Please.
To: Sammy W.
I hate peeling potatoes, but because you asked so nicely I will. Tell Dean burgers will be waiting, but that he's out of beer.
From Sammy W.
Will do. Thanks, Allison :)
She soon realizes her cheeks are hurting from the smile that's been on her face since Sam replied to her first text, and she blushes before mentally scolding herself. She can't like Sam Winchester. Sam is merely doing her a favor and she'll be gone from their lives as soon as her memories come back.
(But then why does her heart seem to ache when she tells herself that she'll be leaving the Winchesters when the time is right?)
xXx
The second batch of fries are sizzling in the fryer and cheese is melting atop the barely removed from the heat patties when the brothers return. She has her back to them, but their stomping footfalls and moaning as they appreciate the smells wafting through the kitchen alert her to who it is.
"Sammy, she made fries. She actually made homemade fries. Can we keep her?"
Finishing up slicing some tomato, Allison snorts and turns. And then her eyes go wide. "What happened to you?!"
"Vengeful spirit," Sam groans as he slowly lowers himself into a chair. "She was not too happy about us trying to salt and burn her bones."
Both brothers have bruising on their faces, a cut here and there, and there's even a scrape along Dean's jaw line. There's a very obvious knot to the left of Sam's forehead and Allison finds that her feet are carrying her towards them without a second thought. Her fingers delicately grasp Sam's chin and she tilts his head up while tutting at him. "You need to ice that."
Sam's staring at her- a little wide eyed- and Allison doesn't move until Dean clears his throat. When she's startled from her mental calculations on how she needs to bandage up Sam, she stares at Dean and then scowls at his rather amused expression. Her hand falls from Sam's face and the younger Winchester shifts under his older brother's seemingly knowing gaze.
"So, uh, is the case closed then?" Allison asks as she hurries back to the fries to take them out. "You're home, so I'm only assuming."
"Yep," Dean answers. "Case talk later, food now. I'm starving."
"Yeah, yeah. Heat the buns up, will you? Use the grease from the patties. It'll taste better."
Dean looks skeptical, but does as he told. He frowns only a little since he's used to buttering his buns with actual butter, but after settling down at the table and prepping his burger, he's moaning and groaning a different tune after taking his first bite. Allison smugly grins as she takes her own bite of her own burger and it's Sam's turn to groan when he shoves a few fries in his mouth.
"What is that?" He asks, licking his fingers clean of the fry seasoning he's questioning about.
Allison shrugs and takes a small sip of her soda. "Found it in the cabinets. It's the perfect mix of sweet and then spicy." Sam nods along in agreement and Dean finally tries a fry to see what they're talking about. Again, Dean groans.
"This is delicious. Sammy, why didn't we keep someone around to coddle us after cases before? It's nice."
"You're an idiot."
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
"Okay, boys," Allison laughs. "Shutup and eat your food."
Dean ends up eating two burgers, while Sam and Allison only eat a burger and a half each. The two bowls of fries are polished off fairly quick, and the three of them linger around the kitchen table while sipping their beer and soda. Eventually, Allison stands and tosses all their trash, and Sam puts all the dishes into the dishwasher.
"So, this case?" Allison asks once they're turning out the lights in the kitchen and heading out. "What happened?"
They then end up in the front library and all take a seat near the front end of the first table. Manila folders are scattered around the table top and Allison's fingers itch to reach for one, but she waits for their call.
"The spirit was a teenager herself," Dean sighs tiredly. "Last year, she apparently fell off the back of the football field bleachers and impaled herself on a pipe. Toxicology reports showed she was drunk and it was ruled an accident. Only now that the class she was supposed to be graduating with is on the verge of actually graduating in the upcoming weeks, several students are turning up dead."
Allison frowns. "I don't get it. What does their deaths have to do with hers?"
"These other teenagers that are being found dead in their own bedrooms," Sam picks up. "-are the same clique of friends that our spirit was close with when she was alive. We didn't piece it together at first, but when we started asking questions we had a kid come up to us and confess everything because he claims he saw his dead friend- his friend that they all watched fall to her death and did nothing to help."
"Yep. Those little miscreants were all drunk that night on the bleachers and when their friend fell, none of them wanted to lose their scholarships- or so they say- and kept quiet and vowed that they were not with the victim the night of her death."
"So now that everyone was happy to be graduating and moving onto the next chapter of their lives, the spirit got angry." Sam reluctantly reaches for a case file and flips it open, he then sliding it towards Allison with a small sigh. "She started taking out her friends one by one, impaling them with PVC pipe."
Allison flips through the crime scene photos slowly, lips turning down into a frown. Each lifeless face- each bloodied teenager with a pipe through their torso- makes her vision tunnel. Allison's hearing turns distorted, her vision blackens around the edges and her stomach plummets.
Sam and Dean watch as Allison pushes back from the table with a gasp, she standing on shaky legs. Her hand absentmindedly flies up to just beneath her breast bone and she curls in on herself. Her stare is far off- her attention elsewhere. Her hands then suddenly fly up to her ears, her eyes clamp shut, and her face scrunches up as if she's hearing something that's too harsh for her own ears. The second she starts to collapse to the floor, both brothers are up and out of their seats. And since Sam is closest, he's the one to catch her before she hits the floor.
"What the hell's happening?!" Dean demands.
"I don't know." Sam cradles a limp Allison with one arm, his free hand going up and smoothing back her hair. Her facial features smooth out and though her mind is obviously someplace else, she seems at peace. Her right hand lifts as if it has a mind of it's own and two of her fingers delicately touch at his chin. "Allison? ..Alli?"
There's no response and Allison's hand soon falls limp- crashing to the floor. Her breathing ceases, as well as Sam and Dean's when they see her entire body go still.
Dean gulps. "Is she-"
Allison gasps awake, eyes going wide as she scrambles out of Sam's hold. He lets her go and both brothers watch as her eyes dart wildly around the room.
"You're fine. You're safe," Sam tells her. "You're at the bunker with Dean and I."
Her chest heaves with her rapid breathing and her fingers dig painfully into the polished floor beneath her. "No, I- I know," she stammers. "It's just- I.. I remembered."
"Remembered what?" Dean wonders.
She looks behind Sam and finds Dean hovering, worry etched into his features. She shakily tries climbing to her feet, but Sam's there the next second and grasping her hands to help her stand. Allison quickly mumbles her thanks and then looks back towards Dean who's still awaiting her answer. "I remembered how I died." She pulls her hands from Sam's, she then grasping the hem of the white shirt she stole from Dean her first days with them. Pulling it up, she stops right beneath her bust and traces a rather thin vertical scar that resides there. "I was stabbed in battle."
Sam reaches forward as if to trace the scar himself, but he catches himself and pulls himself together. "But we read the reports," he confesses. "It was reported as a car jacking gone wrong."
"N-no," Allison shakes her head. "There was a w-werewolf and a g-girl with a sword f-fighting with me. The ninjas- the Oni- were attacking. I killed one," she says, brows pulling together as the memory rushes back. "-and in my disbelief of actually killing one, another Oni rushed at me and stabbed me."
"Oni?"
"Y-yes. Japanese folklore. Look it up," she mumbles.
Dean scoffs and Sam rolls his eyes at his brother before digging out his laptop and powering it on. It doesn't take him long to find the Oni mythology and Dean's hovering once more over his brother's back as Sam clicks through images.
"You actually fought these things? It says they're fairly neutral creatures."
"Yeah, well, I think someone was controlling them." Allison's eyes close and she pinches the bridge of her nose. When she opens her eyes, she finds Sam on an odd silly picture of what someone is claiming to be the Oni. "They don't actually look like that," she softly scoffs. "They wear all black with black masks that look like that," she says when Sam stumbles upon a picture that closely resembles the Oni's mask. "-and their eyes glow a luminescent yellow. They also wield samurai swords and they know how to use them."
Dean slowly smirks. "So.. ninjas."
"Ninjas. Oni. Same thing," she shrugs.
Silence falls over the three of them, but it's a surprisingly tense silence. As one, the brothers glance at one another before looking back at Allison. She's standing there with her gaze far away once more, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and she shaking her head as if trying to clear her mind of cobwebs.
"Allison," Sam calls out. "You okay?"
"..yeah." Her voice cracks and both Sam and Dean jerk in surprise. When Allison finally meets their gaze, her eyes are filled with tears and the smile she's trying to put on for show is wobbling. "No," she then shakes her head. "I'm not fine."
Dean steps aside and Sam pushes up from his seat, but the moment he takes a step in Allison's direction, she takes a step back. "What's wrong?"
"I-I died.. and I remember every detail of my death except for who was with me," she tells them. Allison gulps and hiccups on a sob. "T-there was a boy. Holding me when I.. and I think- I think I loved him very much." Dean averts his gaze while softly swearing and Sam shifts from foot to foot uncomfortably at the emotion practically wafting from her. "I called him the love of my life and I can't even remember his name."
"Allison.."
"Don't," she pleads and takes another step away from Sam. "Please, don't. I'm just- I'm gonna sleep. I need some time to wrap my head around this. I'm sorry."
Allison scurries from the room, and Dean and Sam watch her go. Sam then whirls on his brother, his gaze practically asking what do we do?, but Dean shrugs and holds his hands up. "She asked for time, Sammy. Let her have it."