Alrighty, so remember when I said last chapter that you would have two more, an epilogue, then fem!Dean and Cas? Well, I lied. You get all that, but this is the last chapter before the epilogue, which will be posted shortly.

This is another one of those chapters that's both Sam and Ali though, so just a warning.

And right now, I would like to thank my friend (who shall remain nameless) for reading every chapter within moments of it being published, even though he never had to. Thank you, so much, you don't know how much that means to me.

Alright. And with all of that out of the way, I give to you: Chapter 7
-Fox

Sam

"Have you ever had stitches before?" I asked as I pulled the thread through Ali's torn flesh, pulling it closed. She winced, and bit the cloth in her mouth. I could see a tear shimmering in her left eye. I felt bad. I should have seen that last demon coming, I should have been able to get to it before it got to her.

"No, I haven't. First time for everything, right?" Ali tried for humor, but I could tell she was in pain. I pulled the needle through her skin again, the gash almost completely sewn shut.

"I'm sorry," I said, wincing as I pulled the needle through one last time. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," She said, even though she didn't look fine. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." She tried to punch me, but she used her injured arm, and the thread moved in her skin, so she pulled back. I hated seeing her in pain, hated seeing her so hurt. It was like she was a bird, and someone had clipped her wings wrong. Not only could she no longer fly, but she was in pain.

"I'm going to go get some rubbing alcohol, stay here, okay?" I said, getting up from the motel couch.

"Where would I go?" She asked. I returned a few moments later with three cotton balls and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I placed a cotton ball over the opening of the bottle then tipped it over, letting the liquid seep into the cotton.

"This is going to sting," I warned, then pressed the drenched cotton ball to her wound. Ali whimpered, but kept it together. I dabbed at the cut, cleaning away dirt and dried blood. "All done," I said, tossing the cotton balls into a trashcan. Ali rolled down her sweatshirt sleeve, wincing again.

"I think I'm gonna get some rest," Ali said, heading for the door. "And Sam? Thanks." I nodded, then watched her walk out the door, suddenly feeling emptier.

I don't know why, but I had the sudden urge to run after Ali. I thought better of it, then I joined Dean by the beds.

"Did you finish stitching her up?" He asked, looking up from a newspaper as I sat down across from him.

"Yeah. But listen, Dean, I... I think maybe we should take Ali home." Dean looked shocked.

"Why would we do that?" He asked, putting his newspaper down.

"I don't want her to get hurt anymore," I admitted. "I don't want her to have to go through something like today again."

"Sam, she can handle herself, she's half demon."

"But she's half human, too. She isn't a hardened hunter, Dean. She's a girl who got to grow up soft."

"Sam, she's a 25 year old vengeance demon, she can hold her own."

"But she shouldn't have to worry about that kind of thing," I tried to reason. "She should get to live a normal life."

"She can't, some hunter might come along and be not nearly as forgiving as we are. She's safe with us."

"Dean, no one's safe with us."

"Why do you care so much anyway?" Dean asked, his voice rising.

"I-" I didn't know until that moment, why I cared so much. But then it hit me, like a cartoon anvil, and I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before. "I think I'm in love with her," I admitted.

"Why do you always fall for the things that aren't human?" Dean asked, shaking his head. "First Madison, then Ruby, and now this? Dude, I think you've got a problem." Dean punched me in the shoulder, a bit harder than if he were just joking. Then his eyes softened. "Go for it," He said, then clicked off his lamp, pulling back the blanket on the bed.

"Jerk," I whispered.

"Bitch," He whispered back. And then I drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

I woke to the sound of hushed conversation. It was still dark in the room, but there was a light coming from the bathrrom. I saw two figures silhouetted, facing each other. They were whispering, and I strained to hear them.

"Dean, are you sure he's asleep?" Said the shorter one. Was that Ali? Why was she in here?

"Sam's a heavy sleeper, don't worry." What were they talking about? Why did it matter if I was awake or asleep? "What did you want to talk about?" Dean asked, confusion evident in his voice.

"It's about Sam," She said, cracking her knuckles. I had noticed she did that when she was nervous. Why was Ali talking to Dean about me?

"No shit, why else would you make such a big deal about him not hearing you?"

"Shut up, okay?" Ali said, crossing her arms. "I need to ask you something, but please don't laugh, promise?"

Dean stood straighter, raising his hand. "Scout's honor," He said.

"I'm serious!" Ali swatted at him, but he ducked away from her hand.

"Yes, fine, now what's so damn important?" Dean asked.

"I-" Ali started, then shook her head. "Nevermind, it's stupid, I'll just go." She turned to leave, but Dean grabbed her arm.

"No way, you woke me up at four in the morning, you're gonna tell me why."

"No, it's not important, okay? I'm sorry for waking you up." She tried to pull her arm from Dean's grip, but he held on tight.

"Tell me," He demanded. "Please?"

"I think I'm in love, okay?" She pulled again, and Dean let go. I felt my face flush. Ali? In love with me?

Dean chuckled. "I knew it!" He said triumphantly.

"Please, don't tell him," Ali said, heading for the door. "Please, just, don't tell him."

"You got it," Dean said, walking back to his bed.

"And Dean?" Ali said, slipping out the door.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." And then she was gone.

I tried to fall back asleep, but my mind was racing. Ali was all I could think about. Her soft brown hair, her infectious laugh, her smart ass comments, the way she smiled, like she couldn't quite believe we hadn't left her yet. I thought about all the times we've been driving, and I'd turn around to ask her a question, only to find her curled up in a ball, her chest rising and falling, her eyes squeezed shut.

So she loved me. She did, she had said so. And earlier that night, I had said the same about her. But as I thought, I realized that even though I loved her, I couldn't. She'd only end up hurt. So many of the girls I've loved before are dead or hurt, and only once or twice did they have it coming.

I eventually fell back asleep, and didn't wake until Dean poured a glass of water on my head. "What the hell?" I yelled, wiping water out of my eyes.

"I'm going out for a bit, try not to miss me too much." Dean laughed, then headed out the door. I got up and had just finished getting dressed when a small knock sounded on the door. I opened the door to see Ali lloking smaller than usual, swallowed by an over-large sweater.

"Ali," I said, stepping aside. "Come on in. What's up?"

Ali started cracking her knuckles, one finger at a time. "I was wondering if I could hang out in here? I think the heater in my room is broken, and I'm pretty cold."

"Sure," I said. "I was just going to start looking for another job."

"I think I'll go get my laptop," She said, stepping back across the hall, unlocking her door, then walking in. The door closed, but an instant later, it opened again, and Ali came out, laptop in one hand, charger in the other. Then she came into my room, plopping down in the chair she had sat in earlier as I had sewn up her arm.

After sitting in silence for half an hour, Ali got up from the chair she was sitting in, and stretched her arms, wincing. "It's too quiet in here," She said, frowning. "You don't mind if I play some music, do you?" She asked.

"No, it's fine," I said. Ali pressed a key on her laptop, and music filled the room. Ali smiled, bobbing her head. Then she walked over to me, holding out her hand.

"Dance with me?" She asked, smiling. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

"Fine," I said, getting up from my chair. She put her hand on my shoulder, then guided my hand to the small off her back. I could feel her breath on my neck as we swayed to the music. I looked into her eyes and saw that they may have been an ordinary brown, but there were tiny flecks of gold mixed in, and I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away from hers.

We danced for the whole song, and when it ended, Ali looked away, her face turning red. "Thanks," She mumbled.

I could feel my face turning red too. "It was no problem," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. I turned away from her, sitting back down at the desk I had been working at before the dance,

"Hey," She said. I turned back to her, just in time to feel her lips pressed against mine. I was shocked, but I kissed back, pulling her into me. Her lips were soft, and tasted like chapstick. Then I realized what I was doing. I pushed her away. I couldn't do this to her. I didn't want to hurt her.

"Ali," I tried. "I'm sorry it's just..." I tried to think of something to tell her. "I don't see you that way."

"No, I'm sorry I shouldn't've done that I just, I think I should go." She grabbed her laptop, clutching it tight against her chest.

"Ali, wait. Look, you're great it's just that I- you're like a little sister to me." I felt awful for lying, but she would this was better. If I told her I thought I was going to hurt her, she would blame herself. That, or she would think I thought of her as weak, which I most certainly did not.

"I'm sorry," She mumbled. "I think I should head back to my room." I could see tears in her eyes and I felt like a needle was being pushed into my heart.

"Ali, wait," I tried, but she was gone. I groaned. I had messed up this time, and now Ali probably hated me. I sat down on my bed, punching a pillow. I let out a breath, then went back to my laptop. An instant later, the door opened. I jumped a little startled. I had hoped it was Ali, but instead I saw Dean, looking really confused.

"Why is Ali crying?" He asked, furrowing his brow.

"How can you tell?" I asked. "Isn't she in her room?"

"Yeah, and I can hear her from the hall. So why is she crying?"

"Shit," I said. "I'm such a dick."

"I knew that already, what's it got to do with Ali?" Dean asked, sitting down next to me. Then, he looked from me to the door, then back at me, putting it together. "Sammy, what did you do?" He asked, quietly.

And so I told him. I told him how she came in, then decided we needed music. I told him about the dance, then about the kiss. I told him about pushing her away, and at last I told him about her running out. Once I was done, Dean slapped me.

"What the hell was that for?" I asked, my cheek stinging.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean said, gesturing at the door. "You idiots both like eachother, why'd you push her away?"

"Because I don't want to hurt her!" I shouted. "I couldn't bear it if she ended up hurt because of me."

"Well, you've done a great job of that so far," Dean said sarcastically. "Just go tell her you're sorry and that you meant none of what you said." Dean made it sound so easy.

"I can't. I'm not going to do this, Dean."

"Yes, you are," Dean said. He stood up, then pulled my arm, trying to get me to stand with him, but I remained seated. "You don't want to hurt her? Well, you did. Now go fix your mess. If you're not going to kiss her, at least apologize." As much as I hated to admit it, Dean was right. I should at least apologize, I thought to myself.

"Fine," I said, getting off the bed. I hesitated at the door, but I pushed it open. I walked across the hall and knocked on Ali's door twice. "Ali?" I said. "Please listen to me. I'm sorry. I am beyond sorry. Can you open the door please?" No response. "Ali?" I asked again. "You in there?" Still no response. I reached into my pocket for the extra key she had given me when we checked in. She had said it was insurance, in case she lost hers.

I unlocked the door and saw the room was empty, with all the lights off. No, one light was on. In the bathroom. A bar of yellow light seeped through the gap between the door and the wall. Something felt off. I went for the door, meaning to knock lightly, but I pushed too hard and the door opened, revealing one of the last things I thought I'd ever see. On the tile floor was a pool of blood, and in the middle was Ali. Her white sweater was stained crimson, the sleeves rolled up to reveal deep cuts along her wrists. I stared in horror, wishing what I was seeing was just a dream, a nightmare.

"No," I whispered, "no. This can't... Ali, please, just open your eyes?" I begged. I knealt down to put her head in my lap. "I'm so sorry," I said, a tear sliding down my cheek.

Ali

Twenty Minutes Earlier

I rushed back into my room, closing the door just as tears started to fall from my eyes. I slid down, my back against the door, feeling the scratchy carpet poke through my stockings. I held my hands up to my face, wiping away tears. I had blown it. One of the closest friends I'd ever had, and now he probably hated me. I groaned, then got up, walking over to my bed. I let myself fall, but I landed on my bad arm, and I think I pulled a stitch. I cried out, and I felt tears well up in my eyes again.

I was so utterly useless. I couldn't do anything right. I was like a shooting star. People said they beieved in me, but I was nothing more than a flaming ball of disapointment, destined to crash and burn.

It was then that I started to think about good old Daddy Dearest. I thought about all the things he had said, and I realized he was right. I wasn't helping Sam and Dean, I was holding them back. I was demon scum, and I would never be anything more. I wasn't human, even though I had tried so hard to be. Not only was I demon scum, I was weak. I knew it, and so did Sam and Dean. I could see it in Sam's eyes as he woke me from countless nightmares, and in Dean's when I got hurt. I was dead weight.

I rolled onto my side, trying to bury myself in the blankets, but had forgotten that earlier that day, I had been taking inventory of my backpack. A majority of the bed was taken up by books and knives, plus a gun and some ammunition. I looked at the light reflecting off the blade just inches from my face. I picked it up, and studied it. I could end everything, I thought. It's not like I'd be missed. I was about to slash my wrists then and there, but I looked at the pretty white sheets. Blood wouldn't wash out of that. I figured I might as well try and do one last good deed before I ended it all, so I moved my sorry ass to the bathroom. I sat down on the edge of the tub and held the knife above my wrists.

Then I cut. I slashed, deep and quick. It hurt for a moment, but I was transfixed by the thick crimson blood spilling out of the gash. I did it again, but this time on the other wrist. There was a little puddle of blood on the ground now. It looked so pretty. Blood was such a pretty color. I slashed a few more times, but then my vision started to go dark. "I'm so sorry," I muttered, before everything was black.

I blinked opened my eyes to find myself in a room I didn't recognize. I looked down to see I was in a hospital bed. I looked at my wrists to see thick black stitches all over. I looked up again and noticed Sam sitting in a chair about five feet away from me. He was asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

I saw his eyes flutter, so I shut mine. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't even want him here, seeing me like this. I heard him yawn, and I fought the urge to yawn myself. I heard the chair scrape against the floor as he got up. I felt a hand on my head, brushing my hair aside. "Ali," I heard him say. "Please wake up? I can't do this. I can't lose you." There were tears in his voice, and I felt guilty, but my eyes remained shut. Then he kissed my forhead, and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

I snapped my eyes open. I had to get out of there. If I stayed, Sam would look at me differently. I'd be damaged. I didn't think I could handle that. I stood up on shaky legs, walking towards the door. I pulled it open and got about five steps before I was stopped by the most infuriating, leather-clad asshole I'd ever met.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, grabbing my shoulder.

"Just let me go," I pleaded. "I can't do this anymore, okay? I'm not strong like you and Sam, I just want to go home."

"Then just stay the night," Dean said, his grip tightening.

"Dean," I said, turning towards him. "I'm done."

"I won't let you do that," He said. I was about to say something, when I saw Sam round the corner. He had a can of soda in his hand, but when he saw me, he stopped. The can slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground. I tried to turn away, but Dean wouldn't let me. Suddenly, I was wrapped in Sam's arms as he buried his face in my hair.

"Please, never leave me again," He said, pulling me closer.

"I-" I paused. "I promise."