That morning when Kitty woke up, she knew something was wrong. She rolled over, closer to Dean, frowning when there was nothing but a cold spot where a warm body should have been. She reached over, patting his side of the bed until her hand found the pillow he'd been using. She clenched her hand very slowly, biting her lower lip and attempting to keep her tears in check but she couldn't help the few that rolled down her cheeks in misery. She opened her mouth, shakily exhaling before getting out of the bed and dressing, feeling ashamed of herself for having hoped. Obviously, there was no making this right. Dean couldn't ever forgive her –and she didn't even know what she was supposed to do about his pigheadedness either. But she knew what she wasn't going to do.

She wasn't going to hunt him down and shoot him. She wasn't going to curl up in a ball and cry. No, it was probably time enough to move on and find a hunt to distract her. Maybe several hauntings. That sounded good. Ghosts she could deal with right now. Ghosts she knew how to handle. People were a bit more of a mystery to her, right now. Honestly, she hadn't expected to wake up alone. And it wasn't as though this was her first fight with Dean, but that damn Winchester… he sure knew how to make her hurt. She had tried to amend her mistake yesterday. Dean had actually accepted it. But now, it seemed pretty clear that he wasn't interested beyond that.

She moved over to the window, brushing the curtain aside so she could see if the Impala was still there. All she could see were red brake lights in the distance.

Chapter Six, Smooth Criminal

Alyssa wasn't sure how long it had been anymore. At one point it had just been a few hours, but now those hours were really starting to be drug out and her nerves and anxiety were sky high. That was, until, the door opened and she watched as the same agent who had apprehended her walked Sam and Dean Winchester right into the cell across from her own. She was curled up on her own cot, wrists and ankles handcuffed together as a mark of the fight she'd put up to try and escape.

"A-Alyssa?!" Sam was shuffling forward before the FBI agent had even left the room, and he nearly tripped Dean up in his haste to move closer.

"Hi," she said quietly, smiling at them from between the bars.

"You're alive!"

She frowned, "Yeah…? Generally people only live once."

"You don't know… ab-about the Roadhouse." Sam exhaled heavily, turning to look back at Dean. His brother was staring at the floor.

"What about it?"

"It burned down. Ash didn't make it –Ellen's okay though."

"It-it… Ash's dead?" That wasn't exactly the easiest news to take.

"Where've you been?" Sam urged, worry evident on his face.

Alyssa turned away from him, trying to sort out her feelings. She wondered if the demons had gone after the Roadhouse because of her connections to it. Had she led them there? Had they found her trail and wound up there? She looked back at him, the way his gaze was on her, the desperation painted on both of the Winchester's faces.

"I've been hiding."

"From what?" Dean sneered, looking over at her dubiously.

"Demons," she snapped back. "Okay? Demons. And they got me, alright."

"Listen, sweetheart," he said patronizingly, "I don't mean to break it you but these guys are just glorified cops. They aren't demons."

"Not the ones here," Alyssa agreed. "But there are some of them that are possessed. I would have thought that was something you might have been a bit more aware of."

"Alyssa," Sam said soothingly. "Aly, what do you mean? Why is the FBI after you? Why are demons after you?"

Now was not the time. Now was the worst possible time for this question to come up. But there it was. And here was the moment. "I don't know Sam, why don't you tell me?" She hated herself, a little bit, for the snarky tone that lashed out. But it felt good.

His eyes widened in surprise, "What do you mean?"

"I mean that for one, the FBI somehow seems to think that I'm behind Jess's death. And it's not exactly like you've been around to help clear up that little misunderstanding and neither are you exactly trustworthy enough to cover it up. Why the hell are demons after me, Sam? You tell me. Because they didn't show up until the night after you left, when next thing I know the FBI's showing up at my door and dragging me off in cuffs.

"Only they aren't taking me to any prison or holding facility, no, because god that would be too simple wouldn't it? No, they took me out to Nevada, in the middle of nowhere to kill me! They had their guns drawn, but you know what the assholes wouldn't do?" Alyssa couldn't help the way her voice had risen to an almost shrill level, nor could she stop the tears that were in her eyes as she remembered. "They wouldn't just kill me, because that would ruin the fun of the chase. So they hunted me down, every night. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't even eat. I-I don't even remember how I made it to Arizona, or when I broke into that mall and dyed my hair. When I stole clothes from thrift stores so that I could disappear.

"Because the only thing they wanted was to get a few kicks out of killing me. Now I don't know why the FBI wants me, or why they're possessed by demons or why they're hunting me down. But this started when you left. And I tried, the minute I could, to call you, looking for some help, for you to clear this up for me –I mean goddamit Sam you were my best friend! And your number? Was disconnected." Sam had always been there the moment she needed him, but when her life was at stake and she went to call her best friend knowing that he was the only one who could help her… she had no way to get in contact with him again. He hadn't even left her a number that she could use. And sure, she knew that he had his reasons, but it didn't exactly help her feel any better.

"Alyssa…"

She turned away from his voice, staring at the wall in her cell. He could apologize, and he would mean it. She had already forgiven him. But it was so hard to not be mad at him. It was so hard to not be scared, to not relive those moments when she was in Nevada with nowhere to go and no one to help her and the authority figures she had spent her life respecting, shooting at her as though it was just a game. She figured it out in Arizona that they weren't who they seemed to be, she figured out that she needed to learn a little bit more and after a lot of digging, she found what she needed. She found her answers, learned they were demons. But it never really made sense about why.

"I'm so sorry…"

She glanced over at him, noticing the way his head was resting against the bars that separated them. Dean was sitting on the bed, his feet stretched out so that the chains connecting them didn't trip either of them up. Alyssa managed a small smile in Sam's direction.

"I know, you… you didn't know. And that's okay."

"I can… I can fix this," he protested quietly.

"No, you can't. Not anymore. Considering you're here, but thank you." A more genuine smile tugged at her lips. "We'll have to talk again Sam, about… what happens next." If there was a next. If they didn't just walk down and shoot her like a dog. She would really like to make things better between her and Sam, now that the truth was out there.

The door creaked open and Sam stepped back quickly, sitting down beside Dean. Alyssa shifted, turning away to stare into the darkness. Henriksen walked down the stairs, his smug posture enough to send a crippling fear through Alyssa. There was no way out of here. She found the irrational panic that was creeping in, taking a deep breath to try and keep it at a distance. She didn't want to die and if there was one thing she knew it was that the FBI were not trustworthy, no one was. She curled back further on her cot, in the darkest recess, keeping her eyes on Henriksen as he walked over to the Winchesters.

"Well, well, well. I've got the Winchesters and a firebug, isn't that right sweetheart," he sneered, looking at her. He positioned himself so that it was a short walk between the Winchester's cell to hers.

Alyssa focused on breathing, letting Henriksen's gloating wash over her. She couldn't afford to pay it any attention, to let it bother her. She heard him leave, heard the helicopter over head and she knew that she wouldn't be leaving this building alive. Her fears were proven right when a nother law officer arrived, baring a gun and raving. And when his eyes flashed black and he took aim, she screamed.

It took a while to sort out and Alyssa was grateful to be left alone while Henriksen demanded answers, and even when Nancy came down with a towel and Sam stole the rosary from her. She felt no safer. The night quickly proved to be a long one, but between the adrenaline and her own shock, she had little trouble remaining awake. She watched in horror as the demons parted, letting the beautiful blonde woman walk up. She watched as Sam wiped out the salt line; let her in before putting it back in place. Felt nauseous at the suggestion that they use Nancy to wipe out the demon horde outside, felt pride when they came up with an alternate plan that didn't involve killing an innocent virgin.

Even though Henriksen believed them after he himself was possessed, Alyssa was not happy to be teamed up with the FBI agent. He knew even less about her than what he knew about the Winchesters, beyond what his orders said, which were that she was to be taken in for questioning due to her connection to Jessica Moore's death. Sam had only shot the agent an almost amused smile at the absurdity of the situation and stated that Alyssa had no part to play in it, before they were being divided up and sent to defend the entry points. She wasn't totally unfamiliar with guns, having learned more than enough in order to keep herself safe and she knew enough from working with Jo and a few other hunters on the odd case here and there to be less than useless. But Henriksen's training proved to excel as he fired rock salt rounds into the possessed men and women as they walked in.

By the end of the night, Alyssa's bruised and battered body told her petulantly that she was not a hunter. She was not cut out for this lifestyle anymore than anyone else was, but this wasn't what she was supposed to be doing with her life. She looked towards the Winchester brothers, wondering what their connection with that demon was exactly. She trusted their judgement, but she didn't trust demons. No demon was trustworthy.

Alyssa was shuffled off to leave with the Winchesters, Henriksen promising to do what he could to clear her name for her. She caught Sam's gaze several times and knew that there was a long conversation ahead for her. Dean left them alone with only a crude joke before he was gone to go and get breakfast for them while the sun rose.

"I'm sorry," Sam said quietly, breaking the silence that was lingering between them.

Alyssa managed a bittersweet smile in his direction, "I know. And we can't change it, now. It's too late, but we can… I don't want to lose you again, Sam." She turned towards him, squeezing the washcloth between her hands as she washed them. "It's been a long time. Could we just… can we catch up? Be friends again?"

Sam smiled back warmly, "Of course we can."

Never mind the fact that nearly a year ago when he'd asked her this question himself, she had cut him down brutally. But there was an understanding between, like always. Sam hadn't known and Alyssa had been angry, but it was difficult to stay mad at him for long. Especially considering how things had been, before he was torn away from Stanford.

Sorry for the shortness, but this leads directly to the next chapter which is a sequence of flashbacks between Sam and Alyssa, from when they met to how they parted. Eventually the same flashback chapter except for Kitty and Dean will arrive. Thanks so much for the reviews, you're all awesome! I wish I could find a little more time to write right now for you guys! I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think :D