Hey, people, readers, faithful viewers (I'm trying to suck up to you people because I've taken so long to update) Anyway, at first it was because I had the worst writer's block known to man. Exaggerating there, but it was the worst writer's block known to me. And then after the writer's block wore off, I just felt like I didn't have the will to write, which is stupid but that's how I felt. Anyway, writer's block is gone now, and my will to write is back, so you can probably expect faster updates. I know I used to update like at least twice a week, whereas now I've only been update like once every two weeks. Anyway, should be getting faster, hopefully. Thanks for sticking with me.

Bad Day at Black Rock
Part One

Things with Dean were different. When he'd stayed with me that one night in Ohio he'd laid down some ground rules.

Number one: We couldn't do the soul connecting thing. I'd argued about that for about 2.5 seconds, and then Dean said if we didn't do it his way, he couldn't do it at all. So I agreed, not wanting him to leave.

Number two: We couldn't be…physically intimate with each other. Not sexually. I didn't argue with that. I didn't want to argue again; I didn't want him to threaten to leave again.

Number three: I had to tone down on the power using thing. I had to stop acting like I was the only one in this. There were three of us - and with Bobby there were four - in this, so I had to stop making decisions without discussing them first. Especially ones that could be potentially lethal. I thought that was rich coming from Mr. Dean sold-his-soul Winchester, but I didn't say anything. I was getting what I wanted, mostly, so I couldn't complain.

Number four: No more socializing with Ruby. She was a demon. I should get rid of her, not talk to her. I agreed to those terms even though in the back of my mind I remembered she'd said she could help save Dean. God, she was probably lying through her demonic teeth. If demons even had teeth, I wasn't too sure of that part. Weren't they made of smoke? Whatever. The point was, she was probably lying. She was probably using my fear of losing Dean against me. But I couldn't destroy her. Not when that 'what if' was hanging in the air. But Ruby probably knew that.

Anyway, Sam understood where I was coming from. He didn't think I was being an idiot for wanting to be sure Ruby was for real. Neither of us trusted her, of course, but we had no problem using her. Sam was even sure that she knew about the war going on. More than we did, anyway. If Ruby was for real, then she would be able to tell us where the enemy was, what they were doing, and what they wanted.

It was risky, but if it would save Dean, I'd personally send Ruby a fruit basket. Or an order of French fries; she seemed to like those.

But Ruby didn't matter so much right now, because we were in New York, just outside of Buffalo. Dean had been keeping John's old phone on in case any of his old contacts tried to call, and someone actually called. John had kept a storage room here and somebody had broken into it. Sam and Dean wanted to check it out, so here we were.

We had to get into an elevator to get to the room. It was one of those old ones that cages you in. I hesitated before getting in the death box. I hated elevators. I remembered telling Sam that once and he'd laughed, told me I was paranoid for being scared of them.

Neither Sam nor Dean knew about the storage room, so neither knew what to expect. When the cage door opened to the storage unit, Sam broke open the lock to the door since we didn't have a key. On the floor inside there was a Devil's Trap, and then blood leading away from it.

"No demons allowed," Sam said.

"And blood," Dean added. Fresh blood, at that. Whoever had been here had been attacked by something. "Hey, check this out," Dean said, leaning down to see something. "Tripwire. And" - he looked to where the wire lead to - "a shotgun." He chuckled. Actually, it was more a scoff than a chuckle. "Dear old Dad." He stood up. "There are two sets of boot tracks here. Looks like it was a two-man job, and our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking."

"Probably not professionals," I said. "Probably didn't know your dad or they wouldn't have fallen for a tripwire."

Moving further into the room I saw filing cabinets, shelves, and all kinds of other…stuff. Sam found a soccer trophy he'd won when he'd been younger.

"I didn't know you played soccer," I said.

"Yeah, I was, what, eleven or twelve?" Sam asked, looking at Dean for confirmation.

"It's probably the closest you ever came to being a boy."

So, Sam had played soccer? I bet Dean went to ever single one of his games, too.

The two guys went through a few more boxes and Dean found a sawed-off shotgun.

"I made it myself," he said, pleased. "In the sixth grade."

I had to stop at that. He was making weapons when he was in the sixth grade? That was kind of amazing. I'd known that Dean had watched out for Sam all his life, but to be making weapons at that age, and knowing why…amazing. And scary. And…how had he done it?

When I'd been in sixth grade I'd been what? Eleven? And I definitely hadn't been making weapons. I'd been…doing homework, studying for tests, doing normal kid stuff. Having sleepovers, playing outside, having unrealistic dreams of becoming a singer or an actress. Like I said…normal kid stuff.

Dean, though…he'd never had any of that. He'd never been able to be normal, probably didn't even know how to be normal.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I realized the three of us were in a room filled with weapons. It looked like John had been ready for war. Which…knowing him, he probably had been.

"Look at this," Dean said. "He had land mines…which they didn't take. Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?"

Sam and Dean continued looking around. I didn't because John hadn't been my dad. I didn't feel right just going through his stuff.

"Hey, Dean. Check this out," Sam said, staring at a bunch of boxes on a shelf. The boxes were made of metal and wood, and they had weird designs on them. "See these symbols? That's binding magic. These are curse boxes."

"Curse boxes? Binding magic?" It'd been a while since we'd come across something I hadn't heard of, and I didn't like it. It made me uneasy.

"They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in," Dean explained. "Kind of like a Pandora's deal."

"I guess this was Dad's toxic waste dump," Sam said. "And one box is missing," he added, taking a closer look. Sure enough there was a box sized shape where dust had collected around something that had been removed.

"Well, maybe they didn't open it," Dean said, trying to be optimistic.

"We can hope," I said, wondering what was in it. Whatever it was had to be bad and powerful or it wouldn't have been in a curse box.

"Come on, they've gotta have security for this place," Dean said. "Let's go see what we can see."

The head of security around here was a guy named Bill and he was pretty much a pig. He looked to be in his forties. His hair was graying on the sides and he was pretty much bald on top. He hit on me the entire time we were reviewing the tapes. Actually, I was pretty sure that was the reason he was letting us review the tapes; I was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to.

The tapes showed two men who looked like criminals - which, duh - breaking into the storage room. They had an old car - a Pinto, maybe - with the plate number CTC 880.

"They should've blacked out the plates before parking in front of a security camera," Dean said.

Bill wasn't really paying attention to Dean; he was more paying attention to me. Perverted old man. He flipped my hair back away from my face and traced my neck with his fingers. I flinched away. Until just then, he'd kept his hands to himself and it hadn't really bothered me, it had just been annoying.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Dean said, pulling me behind him. "She obviously doesn't like that."

"She's just playing hard to get. Right, honey?"

Honey? Ew.

"Actually, she's playing the game of 'not interested'. Besides, we're done here."

Thank God. Dean slid his arm around my back and pushed me gently forward so I could walk out before him and Sam.

"We need to find the address for that license plate," Dean said. "And get that box back."

It didn't take all that long to find the address; Sam used his laptop and hit pay dirt within ten minutes. The car belonged to a man named Wayne, and he lived in an apartment complex nearby. So that's where we were headed now. When we got to the apartment building we parked beside the car we'd seen on the security footage.

"A'right, Aly, just stay in the car. This won't take long," Dean said. "Sam and I will go, pretend to be cops, and get the box. It'll look suspicious if there're three of us."

I didn't like the idea of being left behind, but what Dean had said made sense, so I didn't complain.

"Okay, fine, but can you leave the keys so I can keep the radio on?"

"Uh-huh." He left the car on and looked at Sam. "Come on."

After Dean and Sam left I climbed over the seat to get in the front. I switched through the radio stations and stopped on some country music song. Dean would change it back when he got back.

I wasn't even through two songs when I heard a gunshot coming from the building Sam and Dean had gone into. A war started raging inside me. What Dean wanted me to do, and what I wanted to do. Dean said to stay in the car…but hearing a gunshot would totally make his request null and void, right?

Yes, I decided, it would. Because if the roles had been reversed and Dean had been the one waiting, he wouldn't have even had to think before running toward the gunshot.

I cut the car off and jumped out and then I stopped. Sam hadn't actually said what room number the two criminal guys were staying in. Dean hadn't mentioned it, either. I wondered if that had been intentional or just coincidental.

Either way, I didn't know which room to go to, and when I reached the entrance of the building I began to reach out to Dean - just to see where he was - but then pulled back almost immediately. Did this count as 'soul connecting'? Could he feel it? Would he get mad? Did I care if he got mad?

Of course I cared, but I could easily justify reaching out to him. A gun had been fired and they were inside. So I reached out and followed the feeling that was solely Dean. It lead me to an open door upstairs. Sam, Dean, and the two guys from the tape were in the room and only Sam and Dean were standing. So…apparently…they didn't need my help.

The two criminal guys were knocked out. One was near a broken bookshelf, the other near a broken table. Sam and Dean were there looking confused, like they didn't know how the other two guys had gotten the way they were.

"That was a lucky break," Dean said, not noticing I was there. "Is that a rabbit's foot?"

"I think it is," Sam said disbelievingly. He held it up; it being an ugly grey thing.

"Huh."

"Um…what happened?" I asked, and their eyes fell on me.

"Hey," Dean said. "How long you been standin' there?" Something about the way he'd said that put me on edge. He sounded like he was accusing me of something.

"A few seconds. I didn't do this, if that's what you mean. I heard a gunshot and I came. The only thing I did was find you guys. Just now. I don't even know what happened." I felt a full out rant coming on. "I told you - promised you - I wouldn't do anything unless I had to. So if you don't trust me, I can't help that. I mean, if I can't make you believe me then -"

"I believe you," Dean said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Don't get you panties in a twist. We've gotta go, anyway. If you heard the noise from all the way outside then there's no telling how many people heard it in here."

When we got back to the car, the first thing Dean did was get out John's journal. He handed it to Sam. "You read, I'll drive."

As soon as the car started moving I began thinking. Dean didn't trust me, didn't trust that I'd listen to him. When had I even not listened to him? Even when I was pissed off, madder than a hellcat, I listened to him. Granted, I listened better if I was gonna do it anyway, but I always took what he said to heart. Didn't he know that? The only thing I'd ever really went against him on was when he'd refused to be with me and that was only because I was falling apart. I felt like I couldn't hold myself together without him here. He was like my super glue or something.

And now…he didn't trust me. Not that I'd given him much reason to lately. I had been acting a little crazy, what with the using my abilities freely. Being civil to demons. Using my power to suck the life out of a human. Those were just a few crazy things I'd done. But worse than that, worse than the fact that I'd become stupid and reckless, was that I'd become selfish. I'd been too caught up in my stuff, my own anger and grief, that I'd totally overlooked Dean's own feelings. He would never say so, but he was probably scared shitless. He was going to Hell, and I'd been too preoccupied with how I felt to even stop and consider how he was feeling. He was going to die and suffer perpetual torment and there was abso-fucking-lutely nothing I could do about it. Nothing anyone could do…not without having Sam die, and I wasn't so far gone that I wanted that to happen. I loved Sam, too, only in the sibling-I-don't-wanna-sleep-with-you way.

As I thought I watched as trees blurred by the window. Summer was slowly fading into fall. It was the middle of September. It had been almost four whole months since Dean had made the deal to save Sam. Four months, which meant he only had eight months left. Time was moving too fast. Minutes turned to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, and weeks to months so quickly that it was almost too fast for me to follow along.

I wanted to pause time here, make it where Dean would never go away, never be -

"I'm not finding anything on it in Dad's journal," Sam's voice broke my train of thought. "But it's gotta be cursed somehow. Otherwise, Dad wouldn't have locked it up."

What was he talking about? Had they been talking while I'd been lost in thought?

"What's gotta be cursed," I asked.

"The rabbit's foot, Miss Attention Span," Dean teased.

We pulled into a convenient store parking lot and Dean slid into a space.

"Come with me," he said, glancing over his shoulder at me and getting out of the car.

I obeyed like a faithful puppy, which wasn't as pathetic as it sounded, and followed him to the door.

"Do you think you could possibly keep your feelings to yourself? I felt what you were feeling without even touching you, which makes me think it was never me reading you, just you being open around me." He said all this in a rushed whisper. "It's very distracting."

So…what, I was projecting my feelings now? I didn't think I could help that. I couldn't just shut my feelings off. Or my thoughts.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I just…everything's going on in my head all at once. I didn't mean to…distract you."

"It's okay. Just thought I should give you a head's up. And I do trust you, it's just -"

"No, you don't. But I get it. I've been…not myself lately. But…I'll do better. I promise."

We stepped into the store and Dean went straight to the lottery card machine.

"Dean, what're you doin'?" I asked, almost amused.

"Testing the rabbit's foot," he answered.

"Sam has the rabbit's foot. Shouldn't he be buying them?"

"He wouldn't do it on his own."

Yeah, he was probably right.

"What happened in there? The apartment?"

"Well, at first the luck was on their side. Then Sam grabbed the foot and the luck switched. They took themselves out. We didn't have to do anything."

"Huh. Well…huh." Maybe that was a little…lucky. But…and I couldn't believe I was thinking this…but maybe it was a coincidence. We couldn't have bad luck all the time, right? It was way past the due date for something good to happen.

"Not to mention, they used my gun to try and shoot Sam, and nothing. My gun don't jam."

"Huh…" Obviously I wasn't in a talkative mood today.

When we reached the car Dean told Sam to scratch and win! Sam did so reluctantly, rolling his eyes. Then he handed the ticket back to Dean.

"Twelve hundred dollars. You just won twelve-hundred dollars." Dean laughed and cheered, holding out another ticket. A genuine smile broke across my face at Dean's enthusiasm and my heart felt lighter than it had before. For now.

After Sam scratched about five more tickets, winning each time. Dean began counting in his head. It looked like he was using the air as a piece of paper or possibly a chalkboard. Sam called Bobby and since we were in a semi-public place, he didn't use speaker phone. We were in the parking lot of the store still, and I was sure random passerby's wouldn't understand anything about the rabbit's foot. Dean didn't seem too worried about it, but it bugged me. I knew Sam would tell us what Bobby said, but it was still annoying, not hearing it directly.

"Now, look, Bobby, we didn't know." He'd been talking about the rabbit's foot, and now there was something we didn't - hadn't? - known. "Well, Dad never told us about this thing. I mean, you knew about his storage place at Black Rock?"

Sam paused, walking forward and bent over for something. . . A gold watch. He held it out for us to see. Dean mouthed 'awesome' and got back to counting.

"Do you want some paper? Or you could always use the calculator on your phone."

"No, I'm" - Dean glanced at me. "My phone has a calculator?"

"Yeah, you wanna use it?"

"No, I still remember how to count."

It hadn't surprised me that he hadn't known about the calculator. Technological stuff was Sam's area. I remembered once that Dean hadn't even known what MySpace was. He'd thought it was some porn site.

"It's a hell of a luck charm," I heard Sam say and then… "so, I won't lose it, Bobby." Another pause. "Well, then, how do we break the curse?"

A few seconds later Sam hung up, not looking very happy. "Bobby said it is a curse. Some hoodoo woman made it about a hundred years ago. If I lose it…Bobby said I'll be dead in a week. The luck turns bad. Bobby's looking for a way to destroy it."

"Bobby'll find a way to break it," Dean said. "Until then, just make sure you don't lose it."

About an hour later, we were at a restaurant called Biggerson's. Sam had won this Millionth Customer thing so we got to eat free. For a year. Dean was thrilled.

Sam ate a salad while researching; Dean had steak and fries, and he was working on ice cream now; I'd had a double cheeseburger.

"Bobby's right. This lore goes way back - pure hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. It has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth."

Dean was paying attention, sort of, but he was also wolfing down his ice cream like it was going out of style.

"If you don't slow down you're gonna get a brain freeze."

Dean shook his head, taking another bite. "I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's." And then he grabbed his forehead because, as I'd predicted a few seconds earlier…he got brain freeze. I resisted the urge to say 'I told you so'.

A waitress appeared. She had short, black hair, and she flirted with Sam, who seemed…embarrassed? Or maybe just shy. The girl refilled Sam's coffee cup, spilling some in the process.

"Sorry about that," she said, leaning in close and giggling.

"That's all right."

Waitress chick gave him a smile and walked away. Both Sam and Dean checked her out as she left. I rolled my eyes. Men.

"Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky…" Dean started.

"Shut up," Sam said, smiling bashfully.

He grabbed his cup, and it fell out of his hand, spilling on the table and his lap. He stood up and knocked over a waiter. The waiter and his tray of food fell to the floor.

Dean stared, confused. "How is that good?"

Sam reached into his jacket pocket and turned it inside out. "Uh, it's gone."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean said. "Come on."

Had the waitress taken it, or had it fallen out earlier and we just didn't know until now?

"Sam, you go see if you can find that girl. Aly and I will look outside."

Outside, Dean and I took off in different directions, circling the building and meeting in the middle. We found nothing, so we went back inside to get Sam. He wasn't at the table, so I figured he was getting info on the waitress chick.

While waiting, some news show came on. Some guy had fallen…on a barbecue fork? How was that even possible? It showed an apartment building - the one we'd been to earlier.

"I think we should get Sam to a padded room," I said. "That last guy…it didn't take very long for him to die."

"Sam's not gonna die," Dean said, taking my hand. "Bobby's lookin' for a way to break the curse."

"Yeah, but we don't have the foot anymore, and we don't know where it is."

"We'll find it, Aly." I could tell he was trying to reassure himself as much as me.

"Okay, the girl didn't work here," Sam said, coming up to us. "No one had any idea who I was talking about."

We weren't surprised about that. It had been expected. We told Sam about the guy who'd had the foot before. About the guy's death by BBQ fork. Which meant we needed to go back to the apartment complex to talk to the dead guy's partner.

Out in the parking lot, jogging toward the car, Sam tripped over himself, and fell to his knees.

"Wow, you suck," Dean said, helping Sam up. "I guess your luck has turned bad now."

"Yeah, I guess."

"I wonder how bad," Dean said pensively.

At the car, I hesitated before getting in. Did Sam's bad luck affect all of us? God, I hoped not, because if it did, we'd all be dead before we even got to the apartment.

"We'll be fine as long as Sam doesn't drive," Dean said when I voiced my thoughts out loud.

"Fine," I said. "But if I die, I'm coming back to haunt you."

The three of us got in the car, Sam hitting his head in the process. But other than that minor incident…we made it to the apartment complex without any complications.

"Did you want me to wait here again?" I asked.

"Nah, you can come. Sam might hurt himself on the way up."

Sam didn't hurt himself on the way up, and when we reached the room we found the dead guy's partner sitting in the middle of the room crying and drinking. I wasn't sure, but those two things probably didn't go well together.

"Oh, man, what do you want?" Obviously, he wasn't happy to see Sam or Dean.

"Heard about your friend," Dean said. "That's bad luck."

"Piss off."

"We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot. A woman."

"Oh, yeah? How d'you know that?"

"Because she just stole it back from us," Dean admitted.

The guy laughed. I didn't understand what was so funny. Didn't he know why his friend had died? Hadn't he put two and two together yet?

"Listen, man, this is -" Sam began, stepping forward, tripping over a cord in the process.

I instinctively reached out for him, grabbing onto his arm, but instead of steadying him, he took me down with him. I landed on him with an oomph and the air got knocked out of me. Something made a smashing noise and I looked to see a stereo had fallen of a shelf.

"Guys, you okay?" Dean called out.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam grunted.

"Me, too. Winded, but good."

"I want you to tell us her name," Dean said, apparently getting back to business.

"Screw you," the guy said.

Wrong answer, I thought as I got up, helping Sam to his feet.

"It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner."

"What?"

"It was the rabbit's foot."

The drunk guy scoffed. "You're crazy, man."

"You know I'm not," Dean countered. "You saw what happened, what it did, all the flukes, all the luck. When you lose the foot that luck goes sour. That's what killed your friend. My brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now, if you don't help us stop this thing that puts those deaths on your head." The guy's expression changed and I could tell Dean was getting to him. "Now, I can read people. And I get it: You're a thief and a scumbag. That's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you?"

The guy looked down, shaking his head. "No, I'm not. All I know is the name she gave me. Lugosi."

Lugosi? Wasn't that Italian?

"That's all you know?" Dean asked in a 'don't lie to me' voice.

"Yeah. I swear."

Once we reached the parking lot Dean's phone went off.

"Bobby," he said, looking at the screen. "Hello?"

As we were walking Sam stopped suddenly and his face took on an annoyed expression.

"What?" I asked, letting Dean go on ahead.

He harrumphed, and then lifted his foot up. On the bottom of his shoe was a big wad of gum. Ew.

"Bobby, that's great. Except Sam, uh…Sam lost the foot. This hot chick stole it from him. I'm serious. In her mid-twenties, and she was sharp, ya know? Good enough of a con to play us. And she only gave the guys she hired a name - probably an alias or something - Luigi or something."

"Lugosi," Sam and I said in unison.

Sam began rubbing the bottom of his shoe against a sewer grate and it was working a little. Until his shoe slipped off, that is.

"Bela Lugosi? That's cute."

Bela Lugosi? Wasn't that the guy who played Dracula?

"Thanks, Bobby. Again," Dean said, hanging up. When he looked at Sam, who looked like he'd just been diagnosed with cancer of the puppy, he said, "What?"

"I lost my shoe," he sulked.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. He just sounded so pitiful. Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. Sam…pouted. There was no other word for what he was doing.

"Oh, come on. Lighten up. It's not the end of the world," I said, grabbing his arm. "You can get another pair of shoes. A better pair."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Meanwhile, Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick lives in Queens. So, it'll take me about two hours to get there."

"You?" I asked. "What are Sam and I gonna do?"

"You guys are staying here. Motel. You, Aly, can baby-sit."

The fact that Sam didn't complain…just supported how serious this was.

Okay, so...not too happy with this chapter, don't know why. I mean, Dean and Aly are still having it rough, but it's to be expected. Although, with him not keeping her at a distance, she's getting more and more like her old self, which I'd like her to be at least by the end of this season. I mean, she's still gonna have a hard time without him of course, but she'll already had been through her griefy poor me spell, so she won't have to go through that without him. And then poor Sam. I felt so sorry for him - in a totally funny way - in this episode. And the whole 'I lost my shoe' thing...I laugh every time I see that part. It's just so funny that he can look that sad over a shoe. LOL