Hi guys! Shorter chapter but I wanted to get something up for you as I haven't updated in a couple of weeks, everything has just been insane lately! I apologise;-)

Hope you enjoy this chapter, and while I'm here let me just wish you all a happy and healthy new year! So thankful for all of your support, thank you for reading!


Goodbye Is Never Forever

Chapter Thirteen: Panic

Colorado - 01:22AM.

Dean's knees hit the ground, hard, and he felt the earth beneath them sink a little under his weight. He sat there for a long moment and simply stared down at the dirt, trying to process what was really happening. Until then it had seemed so easy, it was only now that he realised how truly dangerous what his sister had been doing was, and he knew he should have put a stop to it all when he'd had the chance. With Alison, it had seemed such a sure thing, so safe, so secure, because he had trusted that she was in control. But, she wasn't, and she never had been. He should have known that. It had been insane of him to think otherwise. There was no controlling the situation they were in, and he had fooled himself into believing there was.

His green eyes were fixated to the markings in the ground, and his fingertips traced the indents that had been left by his sister, he could almost picture her trying to cling to something as she was dragged away into the darkness. It was an image he hadn't wanted in his head. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to breathe, tried in vein to process a clear thought. And, in that moment, when all Dean needed was a pure, still minute to think, time seemed to speed up and the reality of it all crashed down around him.

Dean had to move, or Alison was going to die.

It suddenly dawned on him, she could be dead. She could be dying. And they were the only two people on that earth who knew that they were there, who knew what they were doing. This is what his concern was all about. Alison was so used to doing it all alone, so used to making it out alive to tell her story, she neglected to see the danger that was leading her down a dark path. This was what was going to end her. Maybe not tonight, but eventually.

But what was he supposed to do? He knew nothing about the thing that was in the woods with them, the thing that had taken his sister. He didn't know how to find it, he didn't know where to begin looking. The only thing he knew was how to kill it, and he knew he had to do that before it did something worse to her. He tried to think back to what she had said to him on the way there, it had all seemed so insignificant at the time, and the most important thing on his mind had been trying to follow the road to the woods. He tried to remember her words, but nothing came to mind. It hadn't seemed important, because he had been sure that she knew everything. But she was gone. What the hell was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to start? The forest was huge, and it was almost dark. Hadn't she said this thing was impossible to beat at night? He was screwed. And if he was screwed, so was she.

His eyes fell to her bag, left lying in the dirt, and he frowned, curious. Her weapons were in there, and any chance of her defending herself was in that bag. Had she dropped it on purpose? Had she left it there to help him? It was a bag he had never seen her use outside of working those hunts. It had been with her when he had followed her up to Ohio. Maybe there was something in it, something that he could use. Not happy about it, and somewhat uncomfortable going through his sister's things, he pulled it towards himself and opened it. He pulled out a black hooded jacket, something else he had never seen her wear before, and placed it on the ground. He took out another gun, a knife, and a book. Eyes narrowed, he opened the cover, and her writing filled every page. It was her diary.

Dean had thought he knew everything about his sister, yet the thought of her owning a diary had never even occurred to him. His eyes lingered on the words for a moment, and he saw his own name written there. A part of him wanted to sit there and read every sentence, but he shook his head to himself at the thought, he couldn't do that to her. And he didn't want to think of the wrath that would follow should she find out he had been reading her every thought and feeling. He shoved it back into the bag, and that was when his eyes fell to something else. There was another book in there, similar to the first, and, curiously, he opened it.

This one was different, nothing like the first. It looked more like a scrapbook. It was filled with pieces of paper printed from her laptop, news articles, pieces of writing he didn't have time to read, pictures, and he was sure that, to her, it was in some kind of order. But he noticed, through the mess, every page had a title, as though she had sectioned it into chapters. His eyes scanned the first one, Vampires, and beneath it she had written everything she knew about them. He continued, flipping frantically through the pages, everything was in there. Werewolves, Shapeshifters, Ghosts, Ghouls, Rugarus, Demons, any legend he had ever been told, every monster he had ever heard of, and then some. Alison was keeping a journal. He searched rapidly through the pages, desperate to find something, anything, to help him find his sister. And then he came to a stop, close to the back of the book, and his heart skipped a beat at the single word written at the top of the page. Wendigos.

This was his answer. Alison had given it to him, and he was going to find out what he had to do to save her.

But, his flicker of hope was short lived. Because that was the only word written on the page. There was nothing more. For whatever reason, Alison had never finished her entry, and, once again, he was left knowing nothing. He was in the middle of the woods, his sister was missing, and the only hope he had of saving her was to hunt down and kill a monster which, until a couple of days earlier, he hadn't even known existed.

Just as he was sure he was about to panic, when he didn't know how to think or breathe or feel, his phone rang from his pocket. He almost ripped it out in a prayer that it would be her, but his stomach dropped at the name that came up; Dad. He contemplated not answering it, but he knew that would only lead his parents to panic, too. And he didn't need that. He cleared his throat and held the phone to his ear. "Hey, Dad." he answered, as bright as his voice would allow him to sound.

"Hey." His dad said. "Your mom asked me to call and check in on you guys, how's the camping going?"

Dean sighed, because he could hear the amusement in his father's question. He could picture him there, sitting at home with a smirk on his face as he imagined the two of them struggling to build a tent. If only he knew the real trouble they were in. But he couldn't tell him. "Uh, it's going fine." he lied. "We're good."

"Yeah?" He chuckled. "Where's your sister?"

"Oh, she's here." he said, automatic, shaking his head to himself. "She's fine."

"Hm." He knew his dad wasn't convinced, and he had to get off the phone before he asked to speak to her, because that would sink them both in their lies. "You sure you're okay, Dean?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're fine. We're good." He gave a nervous laugh, and he tried his best to steady his voice, because a part of him really did want to cry. "Uh, dad, listen, it's a really crappy line, I can barely hear you, we'll call you tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay." He sighed in relief, because, for whatever reason, his dad seemed to buy it. And that had bought him some time. "Have fun."

"Bye, dad." And, with that, he hung up the phone, pulling a hand roughly through his hair.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

Alison was gone, and he didn't know how to find her. He was her only hope, and he didn't know where to start.

This was his mistake, and she was going to pay for it.