Okay, so this is my shortest chapter yet, I think, but don't worry, they all won't be this short. Anyway, I just wanted to say thanks to all the people who keep reading and who stick with me no matter what.

The Magnificent Seven
Part One

After leaving Sam's room, I was supposed to go straight back to Dean's room, but I realized that I hadn't read the letter Jack had left me. I still had it in my jeans pocket. I'd kept it with me since I found it the day before.

I sighed and leaned against the wall, taking out the letter. When I opened it, what I read surprised me.

Alyson,

If you found this, it means I'm not going to be able to tell you any of this face-to-face, so I hope what I've written doesn't hurt you anymore than I already have. And I know I have hurt you, more than I ever wanted to.

When I left, it was to protect you. When I died and was brought back, I wanted to get to know you again. I wanted to know how you turned out without me.

When I got to know you, I found there was no place for me in your life. I tried to force my way in, which, looking back, was the wrong approach with you. I realize that now.

I just wanted you to know that, if I had lived through this, I would've stayed out of your way. You didn't need me hurting you anymore. I would've walked away, if that's what you wanted.

But if you're reading this then that point is moot now, anyway.

After talking to you, I realized going to Wyoming wasn't what I needed to do. I needed to get to you. You'd need me whether or not you got there in time to save Sam or not. I'd need to explain my part more clearly than I have in the past.

If Sam died, then Dean sold his soul. This is the catalyst for all the oncoming problems you three will face. Manu didn't tell me much. He told me only what he wanted me to know and only when he wanted me to know it, but something about Dean causes things to go to hell. Or more precisely, Hell will come to you.

Now that you know what I know, I need you to know I never meant to hurt you, and I wish I could make it up to you, but I can't.

Love,

Jack

A myriad of emotions went through me as I read Jack's last words to me.

Guilt because I couldn't find it in myself to feel grief for the stranger that was my dad. Wonder if he really meant what he'd written. Guilt again for making him think there wasn't a place for him in my life, even though, really, I didn't think there was.

I felt rage more clearly than anything else, though, because Jack had known what Dean would do if Sam had died and he hadn't told me. All Jack had said was not to leave Dean alone. How was I to know the reason why he'd said that.

If I had known, I would've…done anything to keep it from happening, but…Jack hadn't told me. He'd kept me in the dark again.

It surprised me when the teardrops hit the page in front of me. I'd been doing that a lot lately. Crying without realizing I was doing it. It was annoying, really, having random emotions like that.

I ripped the letter to pieces, knowing I never wanted to read it again. I knew all I needed to know. I threw the pieces in the trashcan in the bathroom on the way back to Dean's room. I decided to not tell Dean about the letter. He had enough to worry about without Jack's vague warning that Dean would cause the Apocalypse.

When I got back to the room, I saw Dean was still sitting on the bed, and from his expression, I could tell he was thinking. That was almost never good.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just thinking about the war the Trickster said was coming. I was just wondering what the demons are waiting for."

"Oh." I sighed, looking away. "I don't know. I don't know what they're doing. And I really don't care."

My voice sounded strange even to me. It was like I was aware of speaking, but it sounded like someone else was saying the words. Because Alyson Daniels always cared, Alyson Daniels was always wanting to help people, Alyson Daniels thought humans suffered more than they should. Alyson Daniels never gave up. Alyson Daniels was strong.

But the new me didn't care, didn't really feel like helping, didn't care if anyone else suffered because I was suffering. The new me felt like giving up. The new me was weak. The new me wanted to forget everything that made me feel this way.

"Dean, can we talk about something else. Something that's not going to make me cry."

He stood up and I was close enough for him to grab me and pull me closer and wrap his arms around me. His physical presence was almost overpowering, and the masculine scent of him was almost overwhelming.

His eyes never left mine as he lowered his head and kissed me. His lips were gentle yet firm. Part of me was ashamed that I needed him to be the strong one now. I should be the one comforting him, not the other way around. I needed him to help me relax and feel safe, though.

His hands came to my cheeks as the kiss deepened. The familiar slow burn began in my stomach and I pushed my hands beneath his shirt against his skin.

A low groan escaped his throat and his mouth traveled down my neck. He was doing exactly what I wanted. Taking away the pain and the anguish of the last few days. He was making me think of only now.

I arched my head back, giving him better access to my throat, and he nibbled on my sensitive skin. Then he flicked his tongue over it.

"Mm."

We moved backward toward the bed where Dean sat down and I immediately straddled his legs. The bulge in his jeans was plain and I swallowed back a moan just thinking of it.

I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I want you to make me forget."

I shifted closer and came into contact with his groin and my heart stuttered.

I lifted his shirt over his head and I just stared at his chest. I felt the need to memorize everything about him. It was stupid. I knew no matter how I remembered him, it would never do him justice when he wasn't here.

My shirt was next to go and he immediately removed my bra with it. Then it seemed he was taking me in as much as I was him.

Together, we got rid of the rest of our clothing, and then I was on my back and Dean was straddling my waist, one hand holding mine above my head. His grip was gentle enough that I could get free if I wanted.

"I need to be inside you," he said huskily, and my hips jerked upward at his words. "But I need…"

He reached for something on the floor and I realized they were his pants. He came back with a foil packet. A condom.

"Dean, what're you -"

"Protecting you."

"I'm on the pill," I reminded him.

"I know. Things are different now. Trust me, you don't want surprises."

I got it. He wasn't going to be here much longer and he didn't want me to get pregnant when he wouldn't be able to help. He didn't want to have a child to leave behind, so he wasn't taking any chances.

My throat tightened and my vision blurred and I really needed him to kiss me before I started crying again.

Almost like he knew what I needed, he kissed me. It was a messy kiss, but in a hot way.

He nudged my legs apart and his fingers slipped inside me. I moaned, but I wanted something more. He understood and withdrew. He filled me with what I really wanted. I thought it felt weird with the condom, but maybe it was all in my head.

Our rhythms matched quickly and the synchronization was amazing, as always. We fit so well together. I quickly came to the conclusion that nothing else in the world would ever feel this good again.

It sounded crazy, but I was sure that even though I was young, I had found my soul mate in Dean and after he was gone…no one else would be able to compare. No one else would make me happy.

Dean slid his hand down my body and between my moist folds, circling my clit while thrusting. My thighs clenched, him cushioned between them.

"Dean…"

I pushed him with my body and we flipped so he was on his back and I straddled him. I groaned as I took him deeper into my body. My body rocked against his and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I leaned forward, keeping up my movements, and kissed him.

He let out a soft moan every time my body pushed down on his and I knew he was close. We both were.

And then my world pretty much imploded, and I felt like my reality shifted. It took a while to come back down to earth.

I didn't like the fact that I couldn't feel Dean fill me with his essence, but I understood where he was coming from, so I'd get used to it. I could tell he'd had his release, though, because of the sounds he was making and the way his body stiffened beneath mine.

I slumped against him, feeling more exhausted than I'd ever felt, and just let my mind wander pleasantly.

After the peacefulness passed I moved off of him and laid on my back. Dean stood up and I knew he was getting rid of the condom now. I was so tired I actually slipped into unconsciousness before he slipped beneath the covers.

Later that night, I woke up and realized that Dean wasn't beside me. A sharp pain hit my chest when I realized I'd have to get used to it. If we didn't find a way to save him, I'd have to wake up without him all the time. I didn't want to do that.

I vaguely wondered what Sam was doing. He was probably still buried in his books, The solution was not going to be in any book, that I could almost guarantee.

I reached out with my inner-self and searched for Dean, who I realized was downstairs. I got up and searched for my clothes. Everybody needs clothes.

Once fully dressed and fairly presentable, I made my way downstairs. Sam, Dean, and Bobby were talking about something. I wasn't exactly sure what, but Bobby had found something. Something about a crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Bobby was thinking it was demonic omens. Which, granted, it could've been, but it didn't have to be. It was our only lead, though.

"Any freaky deaths?" Dean asked as I sat beside him at the kitchen table.

"Not that I can find," Bobby said.

"It's weird," Dean said. "I mean, the night the Devil's Gate opened, all these weirdo storm clouds were sighted over how many cities?"

"Seventeen," Sam answered.

"Seventeen," Dean repeated.

"What?" I asked, shocked. "Where was I? Why didn't I know about this?"

"You weren't talking to me at the time," Dean said. "And you were probably with Chris."

Oh, my fault.

"Anyway, you'd think it would be Apocalypse Now, but the only thing that has come our way is the Trickster."

I assumed Dean had told Sam and Bobby about that because neither looked surprised.

"What are the demons waiting for?" The same thing Dean had said earlier. "It's driving me crazy. I tell ya, if it's gonna be a war, I wish it would just start already."

"I don't know, man. Careful what you wish for."

I was in strong agreement with Sam on this one. A war didn't sound very fun right now. Especially not a demonic one.

The four of us made it to wherever we were going - I couldn't even remember where - by morning. I rode with Sam and Dean while Bobby led the way in his car.

We ended up at this place, a nice little house in the country. This buzzing noise could be heard over the roar of the Impala, and I assumed it was bugs. That was why we were here, right? A bug problem?

Sheets were hanging out in the front yard, blowing in the wind…everything seemed normal except for the annoying sound the bugs were making.

When we parked, we met Bobby up at the porch.

"So, Bobby," Sam started. "What do you think? We got a biblical plague here, or what?"

"Let's find out," Bobby answered. "Looks like the swarm is ground zero."

Dean knocked, but didn't get an answer. Naturally, he picked the lock. I regretted it the instant he opened the door. A horrible smell hit me right in the face. What the hell was that? Rotting flesh?

I covered my face with my shirt, Bobby covered his mouth with his hand, Dean gagged, and Sam barely grimaced.

"That so can't be a good sign," Dean muttered.

"Ya think?" I quipped. "What is that?"

I grabbed the gun out of my jeans and held it at the ready in case something decided to jump out at me.

We split up, me and Dean going one way, Sam and Bobby going the other. Dean and I searched a bathroom and a bedroom and found nothing. The smell was getting worse now and I felt sick to my stomach. It stunk so bad I was sure it was toxic and we needed biohazard suits to be here.

I heard a muffled scream and I glanced at Dean, who nodded. He went first, toward a door that was shut at the end of the hall.

"Stay behind me," he whispered.

When he opened the door I saw the screaming came from the TV. And my goodness, did it stink in here. The smell actually took my breath away.

"Um, guys?" I called out, and I instantly heard footsteps coming our way.

It took me a minute to take in everything. This room was obviously a living room. On the couch were three rotting corpses. A mom, a dad, and a son, by the looks of it. They were grayish, they're eyes were wide open. They looked like they'd starved to death.

"What the hell?" Sam said.

"Check for sulfur," Dean commanded, but then glanced at the window.

"What?" I asked softly.

"I thought I saw something."

He moved back through the house, gun in hand, and went to the front door.

"Stay here," he said to us, and then he went outside.

Sam, Bobby, and I glanced at each other.

"Screw that," I said. "I'm going around the back."

As soon as I said that I heard signs of a struggle and a loud thump. Sam made it to the door first, then Bobby, then me. Dean was on the porch flat on his back. There were two black people - a man and a woman - and the man had a rifle trained on Dean.

"Issac? Tamara?" Bobby said, staring at them.

"Bobby?" Tamara seemed cheerful, and she had a British accent. "What the hell are you doin' here?"

"I could ask the same."

Bobby and the man, Issac, shook hands. I went to Dean and helped him up. He had a cut above his left eye.

"I swear, you and Sam get hit in the head more than anyone else I've known. One day you're gonna wake up with brain damage."

I cleaned the blood off with the sleeve of my shirt and he winced.

"Sorry. You okay?"

"I think I'm concussion-free. Don't worry."

I helped him up and then turned to Bobby, Sam, and…the other two. They were inviting us to stay with them at a place nearby. Oh, joy. We accepted and called the police to come here. It was an anonymous tip.

Their place turned out be two stories plus an attic. They had a bunch of hunting stuff here; it rivaled Bobby's collection even.

Dean called the police station again, using a fake badge number, as soon as we got there. I wanted to heal him, but I couldn't, not with our new best friends here.

"Honey, where's the palo santo?" Issac asked, and I noticed he wasn't British.

"Well, where did you leave it?"

"I don't know, dear, that's why I'm asking."

"Palo santo?" Sam asked, looking at some sort of snake-skin…thing.

"It's holy wood from Peru," Tamara explained. "It's toxic to demons like holy water. It keeps the bastards nailed down while you're exorcising them."

Tamara found this wooden stake looking thing almost immediately and handed it to Issac.

"Thank you, dear."

"You'd lose your head if it wasn't for me," she teased.

"So…when you nail down the person you're exorcising, doesn't that sort of defeat the purpose? They won't survive anyway," I said. "We've never had to nail a person down to get rid of a demon."

Things grew slightly tense until Sam defused the situation. "So, how long have you two been married?"

"Eight years, this past June," Tamara answered.

Issac kissed Tamara's forehead. "A family that slays together…"

"Right," Sam said. "I'm with ya there. So, how'd you get started?" Tamara had been smiling, but it faded at the question. "Oh, ya know…I'm sorry. It's none of my business." Sam finished awkwardly.

"No, no, it's all right."

Dean came to us, off the phone now. "Unofficial coroner's report came in and get this: that whole family, cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. There was no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."

"But there was a fully-stocked kitchen just yards away," Bobby said.

"Right," Sam agreed. "What is this, a demon attack?"

"Oh, yeah, attack of the Sloth-demon," I quipped, but smiled slightly to let Sam know I was joking. Bobby looked thoughtfully at me, though, like he was wondering at my words.

"Well, what now? What should we do?" Dean asked.

"Uh, we're not gonna do anything," Issac said. "You guys seem nice enough, but this ain't Schooby-Doo. And we don't play well with others. And, no offense, but we're not teaming with the damn fools who let the Devil's Gate get open in the first place."

How did he know about that?

"Issac, like you're never made a mistake," Tamara reprimanded.

"Oh, yeah. Locked my keys in the car. Turned my laundry pink. Never brought on the end of the world, though. I mean, there are a couple hundred demons out there now. We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us. On all of us."

I shook my head. "You idiot man, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Excuse me?"

"You know what? We were there. And you know another thing? You weren't." I stepped forward, angry. "We could've died that night. We almost did. You weren't there to help so you should just keep your opinions to yourself. If you can't deal, don't lay it off on us."

"Aly." Dean's hand landed on my shoulder. "Stop." His voice was soft and soothing. It deflated my anger like nothing else could.

Tamara led Issac away and I sighed, turning to look at Dean semi-sheepishly. I was embarrassed by my outburst. I usually didn't let things like that get to me, but I had so much to deal with already I didn't need anything else.

I suddenly tensed again. A familiar chill went through me. A demon was nearby, or something equally evil anyway.

"Hey, are the entrances to this place salted?" I asked loudly. "Something's here."

And then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

"Or not. Never mind."

That was weird. We decided to check outside. It was nighttime, now, of course, but we had flashlights. Everything was normal. Trees, grass, shrubs. Nothing out of the ordinary was here. Not anymore, anyway.

"Can we…go somewhere else?" I asked. "I don't like them."

"You don't like anybody anymore," Dean said, and I glared at him.

I sighed. "I don't feel like staying in a house with people who blame us for something we had no control over. And if we stay, we'll just end up arguing."

"We can go to a hotel," Sam said. "Don't worry about it."

Later that night, when Dean was asleep, I was wide awake. I thought about how Dean had said that I didn't like anybody anymore.

I'd sounded bitter earlier, but I was bitter. I hated going around thinking about Dean dying. It was almost as bad as him just being gone already. At least then it would have been a clean break. I would grieve, and Sam and Bobby would grieve with me. We'd feel sorry for each other, and we'd help each other heal. But this…this watching Dean walk around, healthy yet knowing his life was slipping away a little more each day…it was almost unbearable.

I'd told him I wouldn't shut him out anymore, and I wasn't going to. For his sake, I wouldn't push him away. It would kill me when he was really gone, but I couldn't hurt him now. Not when I knew what was waiting for him. Not when I knew he had so little time left.

Okay, I don't exactly love this chapter, but then again I do. It's like a 50-50 thing. I like it because it show Aly noticing some of the things she's going to miss about being with Dean, but then I DON'T like it because I don't like sad things, period. Guess I'll have to get used to the sad stuff, huh? The whole season is about the deal and stuff. But I like Dean and Aly's relationship too much to NOT write it, ya know? Anyway, let me know what you think.