The moment after Allison mutters about getting an anti-possession tattoo, she passes out. Sam freaks, Dean demands answers to questions no one can answer, and Castiel sighs deeply at their obliviousness to his presence. After pushing Dean aside and taking a knee next to Sam, Castiel presses a couple fingers to Allison's forehead in deep concentration. He wills his grace to sweep Allison's body in search of anything out of the norm, but doesn't find anything other than the fading darkness around her heart- the darkness that had set her on this path in the first place and that several angels had to concentrate on to start the removal process.
After Castiel deems Allison healthy- that she only passed out due to overwhelming circumstances- Sam and Dean settle her down in the backseat of the Impala and head home back to the bunker. Castiel had been invited to ride with them, but the angel still had duties to tend to, he then admitting he only came down when he sensed that Allison was in danger. So Castiel leaves and the brothers take Allison back to the bunker.
When there, Sam carries Allison to her room and tucks her into bed where he and his brother keep watch through the night because her nightmares decided to come back with a vengeance.
When Allison wakes the following morning, she groggily climbs out of bed and winces when she realizes she's still in the dress from the night before. Her phone is surprisingly still tucked into her bra, so she takes it out and plugs it into an outlet to charge. Afterward, she gathers up some fresh clothes and takes a long steamy shower.
The night's events rush back to her under the spray of the hot water, and she embarrassingly groans when the kiss she planted on Sam flashes in her mind. But the embarrassment is completely overrun when she remembers being possessed and the nightmares that plagued her through the night. Her blood runs cold and fear makes her heart beat double, and Allison tries her damnedest to scrub herself clean.
Afterward, the shorts and tank top she pulled on leave her feeling too exposed so she finds one of her too large plaid shirts- a green one- and pulls it on. She squeezes out as much water from her hair as she can with the towel and then lets it hang down to her shoulders to air dry. Then gathering up all her courage, she faces the music.
Following the voices, she finds Sam and Dean in kitchen eating breakfast. Dean smirks at her since he's the first one spot her and when Sam glances over his shoulder, Allison starts apologizing. "I am so, so, so sorry about last night. I can't believe I kissed you," she blurts.
Dean laughs around a mouth full of toast and Sam grins at her. "It's okay, Allison. All is forgiven and forgotten."
She groans and drags her bare feet until she's at the table with them, she then plopping down in a seat and pillowing her head on her crossed arms atop the table top. "I don't know what got into me. I'm so embarrassed."
"Alcohol, sweetheart," Dean happily tells her. "Alcohol emboldens you." She groans again at Dean's too cheerful voice and sighs when Sam reaches over and rubs her back. Everything really is apparently fine between the two of them. "And speaking of being emboldened, did you mean what you said last night or are we going to have to find you another anti-possession necklace?"
"Meant it," she mumbles and lets her eyes fall closed. "Possession is not fun and I do not want to ever feel like that again. I'll take the pain of a tattoo over a demon violating my body any day."
"Your body, your call," Sam says. "Just sleep another night on it and if you're still sure, we'll take you to a tattoo parlor."
"Mhm. Got it. Make sure I'm sure. Is there any more toast?"
Allison, in fact, does not change her mind about the tattoo. Dean finds a tattoo parlor online that is close enough and did decent work, and Sam prints out the anti-possession rune for reference around the size he and Dean had it tattooed on themselves. On their drive there, they talk about placement and while they tell her to have it in the same place theirs are, she wants hers high up on the left side of her ribs.
At the parlor, Allison ends up getting her way, she stripping down and holding a paper sheet to her chest so her clothes wouldn't get in her artist's way when he found out where Allison wanted the tattoo. She lays on her side, not realizing how sensitive the rib area was, and squeaks when the needle first pierces her skin. With one hand holding the sheet to her chest, Allison places her other hand above her head and soon feels pressure grasping it. She hadn't realized her eyes were clamped shut until she opens them and sees Sam grasping her hand in reassurance and smiling down at her.
Surprisingly, however, one tattoo apparently isn't enough pain for her.
Dean had been prepared to pay for Allison's tattoo when they see her staring down at a certain page in a book of art once the tattoo procedure is all over. And when Sam and Dean see what she is looking at, they jokingly tell her she should get it. Joke was apparently on them because she mentions she's actually serious about it and walks up to the guy who tattooed her. After speaking of wanting three detailed arrows- two of them crossed so they formed an X and one running down the middle- on the back of her right bicep, the artist raises a pierced eyebrow at her in surprise and mentions he doesn't have another appointment until later that night. Dean groans while muttering about her milking him of his cash, but Sam, of course, asks if she's serious and her reply seals the deal.
"I feel like it's my legacy," she tells him. "Will be my legacy when I remember how to properly shoot," she clarifies. When Sam still doesn't look convinced, she frowns. "I don't know why, but looking at that arrow.. it feels right. And I know it sounds weird and doesn't make any sense, but the arrows feel like they're part of me. I really want them, Sam."
He then backs off and since the tattoo artist is having a slow day, he takes Allison back to the room where he inked his first tattoo on her. Apparently, getting tattooed opens up all sorts of conversations for an artist and their client, and the man is treated to a watered down version of why she wants the arrows (she being an amnesiac who was once Olympic material in archery) and the guy is so moved by her missing love of the bow and arrow that he only charges her for one tattoo in the end.
And the entire time the needle had been piercing her skin, Sam sat with her in the room and held her hand. She thought things would have been awkward after she kissed him the night of her birthday, but it wasn't and he was actually more soft towards her. He didn't complain once when her nails pierced his skin and during one point when the needle made her flinch, he started telling embarrassing stories of Dean to distract her. And by the end of day, Allison only had one thought.
When the hell did I actually start crushing on Sam Winchester?
Unsurprisingly, Allison having her very own anti-possession tattoo is not enough to soothe Dean's worries. He immediately throws her into training and Allison surprisingly welcomes the burn of aching muscles she didn't know existed. Not even the healing of her newly acquired ink (she seriously regrets the placement of her anti-possession tattoo when her bras keeps rubbing against it) is enough to slow Dean down.
They find out that she's quite the little hellcat with blades- she expertly wielding daggers much to her own surprise- but she's still a shit shot with a bow. Dean suggests that her skills will most likely return with her memory, and then he drags her over to the guns. She clumsily handles a handgun, although she proves to be a decent shot with them. She prefers blades over a handgun, but as she lets her gaze travel over the guns, she finds herself drawn to a sniper's rifle. When she keeps gravitating towards it, Dean lets her take it down from the wall and watches in awe as she disassembles it within seconds, and then reassembles it while simultaneously loading it.
Needless to say, Dean is stoked to have a sniper on the team.
But while Dean was harsh and rigorous with training, Sam was there with medicine to soothe her aching muscles and a change in her diet to help improvise her health. She doesn't mind the change in her diet- even though Dean complains when Sam tries convincing him to eat more green- or Sam's coddling nature, but she finds herself blushing more and more at each thoughtful gesture and at Sam's fond smiles.
"Alright, ladies, get your best clothes packed and meet me in the car. I found us a case."
Sam and Allison glance up from their work- Sam scanning the pages of John Winchester's journal to their computers while Allison adds the pages to Charlie's Beastiary app- and frown.
"What case?" Sam asks.
"Define best clothes and why am I tagging along?" Allison wonders next.
"Oh, right. I haven't given you your credentials."
"Credentials?" Her eyes widen when she realizes what he means and Allison perks up in her seat. "Dean, please tell me you're not dragging me into the world of illegal activity by posing as someone I have no qualifications of being?"
"Part of being a Hunter, sweetheart." He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out what appears to be a black wallet. Tossing it to Allison, he grins. "Congratulations. You're the youngest rookie in training for the FBI." Allison groans and Sam snorts. "I left you a present in your room. Figured you wouldn't want the pencil skirt so I got you a fancy schmancy pant suit."
"Ugh. I'm so going to jail."
After hours upon hours of driving towards the heart of Texas, and then an afternoon of hunting down a motel room with two beds and a couch, and a night of getting their character stories down to a T, Allison finds herself standing before the bathroom mirror and checking out her reflection.
She's wearing a dark gray ankle pant suit with a crisp white blouse tucked in. Her hair is mostly blow-dried straight, her bangs swooping over her left eye with the ends of her hair loosely curled, and on her feet she wears a pair of black, three inch, pointed toe heels. Charlie's gift of make-up comes in handy and her already snow white complexion is made even more flawless with some foundation, along with the added bonuses of eye shadow and eye liner.
A knock sounds on the door and Allison gives herself one last once over before exiting. Dean whistles lowly and Sam hands her a dark gray blazer to put over her blouse. "Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up."
"What?" Dean feigns innocence, pulling on a wool coat that makes him look a lot more sophisticated than he actually is. "You make a great fake agent, agent Barton."
Sam rolls his eyes, he having given up on trying to convince his brother that they weren't the Avengers and should therefore stop using the Avenger names. Dean was seriously proud of himself for even thinking of it since agent Barton- or Hawkeye's- weapon of choice was a bow and he thought it fit Allison perfectly. Only now, he and Sam couldn't use their Stark and Banner credentials at the same time in fear of being called out, but he was perfectly fine with that.
"Are we ready or what?" Sam asks.
"We're good to go. Alli?"
"I'm fine," she breathes out on a sigh. "Just nervous."
"Don't be," Sam smiles reassuringly. "All you have to do is stick to our sides and flip your badge open when we do. You're just a rookie in training and have your little pen and pad of paper, so take vague notes when possible and act as if everything we're doing is really intriguing. Dean and I will take the lead on everything."
Allison shifts nervously, she visibly pumping herself up for the day ahead. "Okay. Let's go."
xXx
Allison stares up nervously at the Hospital, wishing that the Winchesters had left her behind to continue researching. The details of the case had been vague about recently dead bodies down in the morgue suddenly missing their hearts and liver, or entire bodies just completely missing before any autopsies could be performed. But it was the two deaths of Hospital nurses that really catch their attention- two nurses which sport long claw marks along the front of their bodies and throats ripped out. Had the nurses' bodies been anywhere outside, it could have been marked down as an animal attack, but the two nurses were secure behind closed doors and the local authorities were stumped.
As of right now, Dean and Sam are dead set on this being a werewolf, but they still need more details before proceeding.
The three of them make it under the yellow crime scene tape with a flash of their badges, the local authorities waving them on through and not even giving Allison a second glance. They easily find their way to the scene of the crime where a CSI team is photographing everything and the Sheriff finally stops them.
The man with a beige cowboy hat and shiny golden badge steps forward, his boots thumping against the tiled floor with every step he takes. "Gentlemen. Lady," he tips his hat in greeting. "What can I do for you today?"
"Sheriff," Dean greets the man with a quick handshake. "I'm agent Hetfield, this is my partner agent Ulrich, and our rookie agent Barton," he says as all of three of them flash their FBI badges once more. Allison's hand barely trembles.
"I wasn't aware the FBI had been called," the Sheriff frowns. His hand reaches up and he swipes it down his salt-n-pepper goatee.
"Yeah, well, we go where the bosses tell us to go," Dean tells him. And before the Sheriff can question them, he presses on. "So do you care to tell us just what the hell is going on here?"
The Sheriff eyes them suspiciously before sighing, his shoulders slumping as he turns and leads them further into the room. "Watch your step, agents. It's a bit bloody." The room, in fact, is bloody. Allison tries not to scowl as she side-steps what would appear to be evidence, and to keep herself busy she pulls out her small pad of paper and pen from her pocket. "It's a terrible crime, but convenient where it happened. All the bodies are still here, so if you need to see-"
"We do," Sam blurts. "We do," he then says more calmly. "We'd like to see the most recent killings, please."
The Sheriff nods and calls over a nurse, he instructing her to show the nice federal agents what they need to see. He laughingly apologizes to Allison for her first case being so gruesome and Allison flashes him a grim smile in return. And before they can even see their first body, the Sheriff has to take his leave when his deputies need his attention elsewhere.
"See, easy peasy," Dean grumbles beneath his breath once the Sheriff is out of ear shot and the nurse is not paying them any attention.
Sam huffs a laugh before gesturing for the nurse to proceed, she opening two of the cold chambers and pulling out the steel gurneys with bodies covered by sheets on them. Then seeing the somber expression on the nurse and the fact that she's near tears, Sam kindly excuses her from having to see what was most likely a friend of hers.
"Prepare yourself," Sam says, catching Allison's gaze as the nurse leaves them be. "If this is a werewolf, it won't be pretty." Gripping her pen tight in hand, Allison nods as she and Dean close ranks around the elevated gurney. Sam takes a deep breath before slowly pulling the sheet down, and Allison's eyes widen at the gaping wound of the female's neck. She takes a step back and averts her gaze before clamping her eyes shut, swallowing down the sudden bile that had made it's way up. "You okay?"
She gives a quick jerk of a nod, then opening her eyes and taking in a deep breath. Once settled, Allison steps back up to Dean's side. "I'm fine. Keep going."
Sam gives her another moment before pulling the sheet down to the woman's waist, and both he and Dean frown at the various claw marks appearing over her body that come in a group of four. There's a hole over the place the woman's heart would have been and her stomach's been torn open.
"What do you think, Sammy?"
Sam opens his mouth to retort, he closing it a moment later and shrugging. "Honestly, I'm not sure," he tells them quietly. "All the werewolves we've come across, they only ever go for the heart." Allison snaps to attention then, the little pen and pad of paper suddenly coming in handy. As Sam states the differences, she writes them down to remember later on. "I mean, they could eat other organs, but the slashing? Werewolves don't do overkill, Dean."
"Yeah, I guess you're right." Dean sighs before covering the first body back up, he then turning around and uncovering the second nurse's body. It's the same as the first and not finding much differences between the killings, the three of them are soon on their way. "I guess we hit the books again and do nightly patrols. Fingers crossed we find this thing before it claims another life."
The following day finds Allison behind Sam's laptop, she sitting cross-legged on a wooden chair with a twizzler hanging from her mouth. Sam and Dean had spent the entire night out patrolling for anything out of the norm after they narrowed down their search to a possible pureblood werewolf since the attack didn't happen on a full moon, and they only returned once the sun had risen. Allison had quickly given up her bed in favor of doing more research for them.
She only gets so far with the research and taking notes, so she opted for closing out of the Beastiary and scouring the internet for anything that seemed familiar and would not give her blinding pain in her head. Hours later, the screen goes black before a small pic of Charlie pops up accompanied by the noise of a telephone ringing. Allison smiles, she having been familiar with the internet calls and quickly accepts the incoming one.
"Charlie, hi. What's up?"
The redhead smiles back on screen, she winking while sipping from a coffee cup. "Hello, Gorgeous. How goes the case?"
"It's.. going." Allison laughs at her greeting. "The boys are sleeping after a long night of werewolf patrol."
"Nice. Your ink stop itching yet?"
The word 'no' in on the tip of her tongue, but she quickly realizes that she hasn't scratched since yesterday afternoon. "Actually, yeah." She perks up while rubbing a hand over her clothed ink, she smiling when she doesn't feel the urge to scratch. "What about you, Red? Any trouble?"
"Nah. It's quiet on the home front. I was thinking about visiting sometime soon."
"Please, do. I need some female company."
"You weren't saying that when you locked lips with Sammy," a raspy voice says. Charlie spews coffee in surprise, Allison's eyes widen and she looks up to see Dean sitting up and lazily scratching at his bedhead.
"YOU WHAT?! WHEN?!"
"I don't- Dean's sleep talking! He doesn't know what he's saying," Allison quickly blurts with a shake of her head.
"Allison Argent, you lying liar who lies," Charlie gleefully cackles. "I want details. Give 'em up. NOW, young lady."
"Ugh, why is Charlie yelling?" Sam groggily asks.
"And that's my cue to go. Charlie, text me later. Bye!"
Quickly exiting out of the call before Charlie can demand anything else, Allison shuts the lid to the laptop and turns her gaze on Dean who's sleepily smirking at her. She glares at him and he drops back against his mattress with a huff of a laugh. "Shh. Quiet, Hawkeye. Daddy needs his sleep."
"You're gross. Never call yourself that again. And Sam, I apologize for waking you."
"S'fine. Wake us for dinner, will you? There's enough food to get you through lunch."
Allison hums in acknowledgement and quietly stews in embarrassment.
xXx
The boys wake shortly after the sun's gone down and are surprised to find that Allison's kept herself quite busy by adding entries to their Beastiary app. And since their motel was a couple miles outside of town, they had a short drive into town so they could grab something to eat.
Having grown tired of burgers, they looked for a place that would serve anything else other than that. They found Cowboy Chicken and were treated to some decent bar-b-cue along with some vegetables, macaroni, and peach cobbler. The place was a little crowded, so Dean, Allison and Sam placed their orders and ate as quickly as they could without making themselves sick. Their dessert was taken to go and they enjoyed it outside in the parking lot with the chirping of crickets keeping them company. Dean and Allison sit on the hood of the Impala as Sam leaned on the side, the three of them enjoying the last of their drinks before heading back to the motel.
On the road, Dean's attention is torn between driving and changing the music. Allison's too busy being lazy in the backseat and dozing off that she doesn't know anything's wrong until Sam yells out. Dean curses and slams on the brakes, and Allison's eyes fly open just in time to see a dark figure try and dodge the car. Unfortunately, the Impala ends up clipping the figure and sends it flying.
"Sonnuvabitch!"
Dean and Sam scramble out of the car after it comes to a screeching halt, and Allison follows at a slower pace. She's only just put both feet on the asphalt when she glances to see what they hit. The figure is actually a female, but she looks perfectly fine in her crouched position. Her eyes flash yellow and as the brothers yelp in surprise and reach for the weapons they no doubt have on them, Allison dives back into the car and retrieves the rifle she's been practicing with from beneath the back seat.
When Allison strides forward, the girl flips her hair back and Allison is treated once again to glowing golden eyes. The girl's mouth is agape and it's hard to miss the elongated teeth behind her lips. However, instead of a feral werewolf, they're met with a girl who looks seconds away from bolting.
"This is who's been causing all the trouble?" Dean huffs. "She's a kid."
"Dean," Sam gulps. "She has blood on her."
The girl seems to panic when all three gazes turn hard and are suddenly focused on her, and they don't expect it when she throws her head and howls.
"Hey, stop that!" Dean barks.
When the female stops, her teeth and eyes are back to normal. "I'm not- I'm not who you think I am."
"Really? The teeth and eyes say otherwise," Dean snarks.
"And the blood," Sam adds.
Allison's grip on the rifle tightens even as a headache starts blossoming, her aim wavering on the frantic girl before them.
"It's my blood!" The girl then confesses. "The omega causing us trouble is stronger than me. We got into a fight and that's why I was fleeing before you ran me over."
Allison's aim wavers again, this time for a different reason, but the Winchesters hardly blink an eye. Seconds pass and then a ferocious roar has the brothers tensing and turning in circles to find the source. Allison completely freezes up, pain exploding in her temples when yet another female rushes forward, she putting herself between the Hunters and the crouching she-wolf. Elongated teeth glint in the Impala's headlights and red eyes flare threateningly. The newest arrival roars again as the younger one stands tall behind her, and Allison flinches before stumbling back with a yelp.
"Allison!" Sam yells.
She waves off his concern, the pain receding rapidly as she shakes her head clear. A flood of memories have seemingly made themselves known, and Allison doesn't retake her aim. Instead, she steps forward and places a hand on Dean's arm first, trying to lower it. "Don't. It's not them." Dean stares incredulously at her and Allison turns her attention to Sam while then trying to lower his arm, too. "They're not the wolf we're looking for. She's just an alpha protecting her beta."
The growling ceases and Sam stares between Allison and the apparent female alpha who can't take her- now curious- gaze off of Allison.
"They're monsters who are threatening us," Dean states.
The alpha scowls at his words and the beta growls, but the alpha holds her back with just a quick glance over her shoulder.
"'Cause you're pointing a weapon at them," Allison frantically says. "Lower it."
"How do you know all this?" Sam wonders, his own gun lowering though his grip on it is still evident.
"I remembered," Allison shrugs. Then looking to the girl that had displayed golden eyes, she says, "When I saw her eyes, the memories tried to come forward. But it was only when she," Allison then glances up at the alpha. "-came up and roared that they broke through. Red eyes mean alpha. Golden eyes can mean either beta or omega, and blue eyes mean a beta or omega who's taken the life of an innocent. However, your eyes will still turn blue even if the death is an accident."
Dean scoffs. "What happened to we hunt those who hunt us?"
Both the werewolves flinch at his words and Allison's brow furrows together. "It- it didn't sound right when I said it before. It.. it was familiar, yes, but it didn't sit right with me. Like I didn't believe in it's meaning."
"It shouldn't," the alpha finally speaks, crossing her arms over her chest and spreading her feet shoulder-width apart. "The last female Argent in charge had changed it a while back before she passed."
The three Hunters whip their heads in the direction of the alpha, Dean's grip tightening on his weapon as he takes a step forward. "How the hell do you know that name?" He practically snarls.
The alpha rolls her eyes. "Relax, hotshot. The Argent's are famous among us monsters. They were famous for putting down anything and everything not human, especially werewolves, but when Allison Argent came into her power position after her mother's passing, she changed the code."
"Do you know what to?" Sam gulps, his gaze quickly darting to Allison.
Heart beating frantically, Allison answers before the alpha can. "Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes." She says it almost as if in a trance and when she rapidly blinks the fog clear of her mind, Allison finds the alpha staring at her in shock. "We protect those who can't protect themselves."
"You're her." No one gives the alpha any sort of confirmation even as Allison fidgets under her stare, and she huffs in disbelief. "But- but you died! Those of the supernatural community who have no drama with the humans gave their condolences to your father. A couple of my betas visited Beacon Hills to do so on behalf of my pack."
"It's a long, long story that involves actual angels and demons," Allison blurts. "But please, you can't tell anyone," she then pleads. "I.. I'm not- I don't have all my memories and if I try to force them, it won't end pretty. The Winchesters are just helping me until I get my memories back."
"So you hunt in the meantime?" The alpha's quirked eyebrow makes Allison grin.
"Sort of. I remember some of my apparent family business, but not all of it."
"That's enough, Chatty Cathy. She's the enemy, remember?"
"We're really not," the alpha says, meeting Dean's gaze. "I know of the wolf you seek. He's an omega who's trespassed onto my land. He's feral and dangerous, in case you haven't noticed my beta sporting battle wounds, and we're working to eliminate him. Normally, I'd chase an omega away after denying them a place in my pack, but he's claimed two lives and I can't risk him doing that somewhere else."
By now, Sam's weapon has been holstered, but Dean is only just wavering. After a long minute of the alpha/Hunter stare down, Dean curses and holsters his gun before stepping back.
"She's telling the truth, Dean," Allison says, trying to assure him that he's making the right choice. "Alpha's like this one- this one who I'm sure has claimed this town as her territory- protect the land and people living on it. She's not the enemy."
Dean sighs. "Kid, I hope you know what you're doing."
"Not in the slightest," Allison nervously laughs. "But I think I am."
Once there are no weapons, the alpha female eases her stance. "Thank you. Not many Hunters are kind to non-humans."
"Yeah, well, we're still learning," Dean grumbles.
The alpha smirks and her beta actually giggles now that the tension has faded.
"Now that we've established who the good guys are and the bad, do you need any help?"
"No." The alpha meets Sam's gaze and gives him her best smile. "The omega made this personal when he drew blood on my beta. This is Pack business. I'm sorry."
"Then if that's all.." Allison tersely bows her head in a show of respect. "We're sorry for the misunderstanding and for hitting your beta with our car."
Dean snorts and the beta impishly smiles. "You're forgiven. Really, it was my fault since I ran into the middle of the road."
"Damn right it was. I think you dented Baby."
There's a bunch of eye rolling, but before Allison can convince the brothers to leave, she turns her gaze back to the alpha. "I hope you catch the omega before he claims another life. Also, I hope that my living status remains a secret for now. I can't go back home yet, and I can't risk my family or friends looking for me right now."
"I understand. Believe it not, the Winchesters are fairly popular as well, and I understand about all the other monsters they hunt. I do not wish angels or demons upon anyone- what with all the power they manifest- so your secret is safe with me. I wish you all the best, Allison Argent."
The alpha extends her hand towards Allison, and Allison steps forward to grasp it. They shake on it, surprisingly exchange numbers just in case, and then all too soon Allison and the Winchesters are on their way back to their motel. When they get there, they pack up their belongings and decide to head on home because the last thing they want is to anger a Pack of werewolves even after they left on good terms with the alpha.
On the drive, Dean's a little salty that he didn't get to shoot something.
And that night, after falling into a fitful sleep in the backseat of the Impala on the way home, Allison dreams of one Scott McCall.
For face claims, I'm picturing the alpha female as Meghan Ory and for the beta, I'm thinking Phoebe Tonkin. They're not making another appearance which is why I didn't give them names or go into full detail about them. Sorry.
Remember to check my polyvore "crossxover" for chapter sets for this story :)