Hope

For the tenth time that day, Bobby heard a thud, muffled by two stories of his house. He grinned a little when the sound of a frustrated little girl followed. She screamed to her walls, angrily stomping though her room. Aliza had been studying all day. If Bobby learned one thing about the girl, it was that she didn't give up easily.

Bobby had taken the girl in. At least for as long as her demon mother was still kicking. Aliza proofed to be great hunter material: she wasn't afraid when Bobby told her about ghosts, werewolves and shapeshifters, she stayed in the house, knowing outside was too dangerous, and above all: she wanted to learn. She wanted to be ready for when the nightmares would come for her.

The first couple of weeks were quite awkward. Bobby had taken care of Dean and Sam, but he had known the boys from their birth on. This girl had a persona, a strong will…and well, she was still a girl. Bobby thanked whoever made her quite the boyish type, cursing himself if he had to paint her nails or braid her hair. But Aliza never did those things. What she did all day, was learning and training. Bobby showed her how to throw knives; thinking it might be the least harmful for the kid. He tried to teach her to fight too, but they were too uneven to make good sparring partners.

After a morning of boot camp she would lock herself up in her room – previously Dean's room – and start on a thick old book of lore or hunter diaries. That day was no different. Mostly she would test herself on her knowledge, and Bobby could clearly hear when it went wrong. Most of the times she ended up throwing the book through the room or down the stairs, yelling after it for being so damn hard to understand. He couldn't blame her; some of the text even he didn't follow. All and all, he was impressed by the girl, and started to warm up to her.

'Uncle Bobby?' Aliza's soft voice broke the silence. Bobby looked up from the book he was reading in full concentration. They were both sitting in the study room. He behind his desk, she in the old sofa. She had her short legs displayed over the length of the sofa, resting her back against the arm rest.

'What is it, kid?' he said, starting to realize how late it was. They had both been sitting and reading for hours, not noticing time slipping away.

Aliza looked out the window, at the night sky. It was a clear evening.

'Do you think angels are real?'

Bobby was taken aback by her serious question. He had anticipated she would ask whether she really needed to get up early the next morning, or maybe that she wanted him to get her something else to eat that the canned food. He scratched the back of his neck, searching for an answer.

'I don't believe in angels,' he stated.

Aliza scrunched her eyebrows together. 'Why not?'

Bobby sighed deeply and opened his drawer: he needed a drink with this conversation. Aliza didn't look up at his action, she had not said a word about his alcohol usage, and he was pretty sure it didn't bother her.

'Because the world has been dragged through the mud so many times. So many good people suffer. How can angels watch that and not act on it?' He told her, not really interested in the topic.

However, Aliza wasn't done. 'I think life, and with that the suffering, is all a test. To see how people act on things.'

Bobby snorted. 'That sound quite religious. How did you get that idea?'

Aliza looked down at the book she was holding, and absently stroked the back.

'My father used to say that.'

Bobby thickly swallowed the swig he had just taken. He looked away, afraid to meet her eyes. But he had to say something.

'Look…kid,' he started. However, Aliza closed the book and put in back on the shelf. She stood on the other side of his desk, looking slightly down at him.

'I'll go to bed. I'll be out, starting on the push-ups at eight A.M.,' she simply stated. Bobby looked at her and gave a small nod. She walked away with determined steps. Bobby took another swig.

Aliza ran up the stairs all the way to the room in the attic. She closed the door behind her, twisting the key once in the lock. She had wanted to make it hard for intruders to get in, but she still wanted a fast escape route if necessary. She kicked her shoes to the side and slid into the way too big shirt that functioned as her pyjamas. She jumped under the blanket and stared at the slanting ceiling.

She was quite happy with her new life here. Bobby turned out to be much better company than her parents had told her. She remembered when Channah and some friends had sneaked onto his car yard one day, and the man had chased them off, yelling angrily he hated teenagers. Her parents somehow found out, and they had told Channah over and over that Bobby was a bad man, one you didn't want to make angry.

And here she was, sleeping under his roof, while hiding from her murderous mother. How one's life could be turned a 180 degrees. She started to like Bobby, even his grumpy moments – which were a lot. She knew when she could ask him things, and when she better stayed at her room. She liked her room too. It was quite big, with a comfy bed in it. She had an own bathroom and little dresser table. She couldn't picture Bobby needing a mirror and dresser table, so she wondered why it was here. Maybe he once had a wife, or a daughter? A question she had to ask later.

A flash of lighting shocked her abruptly from her thoughts. She jumped a little in her bed. As the rain started pouring harder on the window, she pulled the blankets up to her nose. She hated thunder. It scared her more than the thought of those black-eyed men. She learned that demons could be killed, or at least sent back to hell. But thunder would always exist. You can't fight it, you can't kill it.

And as she listened to the storm out there, she wondered when she started thinking in a world of things that you can and can't kill.

'Stop whining and help me boy,' John said harshly.

Dean shut his mouth the instant his father started talking and grabbed his bag from the trunk of his father's car, the Impala. It was somewhere around 3 o'clock in the night, and the rain poured heavily down on them.

'Come on Sammy, carry your own bag,' Dean said when he noticed his brother wasn't following him. Sam stared out thought the open door, a disgusted look on his face.

'I don't want to get wet,' he protested against his older brother. Dean turned around to their father, afraid he had heard that. But John was already halfway to the door. Dean turned back to Sam.

'Do you want to sleep in the car then? Don't be a baby Sam,' Dean snapped.

Sam looked down. Dean regretted his words the moment he saw Sam's reaction. Sometimes when his dad had a foul mood, Dean would copy it. He hated himself for it, and even more for firing his frustration at his little brother. Nonetheless, it got Sam out in the rain – muttering under his breath – and both of them into the house. John had opened the door with his own key.

'Bobby, I'm back. Can you take the boys in for some weeks?' John shouted through the house. Dean and Sam followed him in the study room, finding Bobby asleep with his face on the hard desk. John shook him.

'Bobby! Damn it wake up!'

Bobby seemed way too fast asleep to wake any time soon. John sighed in frustration, before he turned back on his – soaked - sons.

'Well, I need to go, no time for sleeping beauty to wake up. You know the routine: listen to Bobby. I'll be back in three to four weeks. Behave,' he drilled.

Dean nodded. 'Yes Sir.'

Sam copied his brother, with an unsteady voice.

John walked past them, giving them both a pet on the head. Then he ran to the Impala and drove into the night.

Dean took his bag from the ground and slung it over his shoulder. 'Come on Sammy. We'll tell Bobby in the morning we're here. Let's get to bed.'

Sam followed Dean up the stairs. They had a habit when they stayed at Bobby's: the first night they would sleep in the same room, to comfort his brother a bit. The rest of the stay Sam would be retreating to his own room. They walked all the way up to the attic, where the biggest room was. Dean tried the door, but it seemed to be locked.

'That's weird,' Dean said while drawing his eyebrows together. He found an iron tool he could use to push the key around. He opened the door in seconds.

Dean went in the room first. He took about two steps when he saw something moving in the corner of his eye. He turned back, but was already too late. Someone hit him hard in the stomach. He doubled over, holding his stomach in pain. Sam seemed petrified. Dean had to face the threat himself. He kicked his foot out in a sudden motion, causing the person to fall back. Dean took a second to jump on top of the person, twisting it around so it faced the floor, with the arms behind its back.

'Ouch! Stop it!' the person screamed. Dean started to realise the person was shorter than him. Then he noticed the voice belonging to a girl. Sam found the light switch.

'What are you doing here?' Dean yelled at the person pinned beneath him.

'Me? Who are you to get into my room?' she squeaked back.

This confused Dean even more. 'What? This is my room!'

'No it's not!' she tried to wiggle herself out of his hold, but failed to do so.

After a long minute of shouting at each other, Bobby seemed to finally be awoken by the noise. He stumbled up the stairs, storming into the room.

'Bobby! There is a strange girl in the room!' Dean shouted.

'Bobby! This boy intruded the house!' Aliza shouted at the same time.

Bobby sighed heavily before pulling Dean off the girl.

'Let go Dean,' he ordered the boy. Dean looked surprised Bobby didn't take is side. Then the old hunted helped Aliza back on her feet. He placed his face in front of her, slightly bending over.

'Did you attack Dean when he entered the room?' he asked. The question sounded like a 'did you steal a cookie from the jar' kind of question. Aliza looked at him in disbelief.

'But he-,' she tried.

'Answer me, Aliza,' Bobby said sternly.

Aliza looked at Dean, who kind of watched with that surprised look frozen on his face.

'Yes,' she told him through her teeth. 'He was sneaking into my room.'

'Bobby, why does she keep saying this is her room?' Sam suddenly added. He had been quiet the whole time.

'Because it is. Aliza lives here now,' Bobby said as he turned around to the boys.

That shook Dean out of his trance. 'What?'

Bobby sighed and awkwardly tried to introduce the fighting children.

'Dean, Sam, this is Aliza. She is staying here due to…problems. Aliza, these boys are Dean and Sam Winchester. Their father is a friend of mine. They stay here from time to time.'

Dean gave Bobby an irritated look.

Aliza pushed some strings of hair out of her face. 'Okay then.'

Bobby sighed again. 'It's half past three or so. All go to bed, now. Dean, Sam, you take the room at the second floor. No complaining. I want to sleep, so you better not wake me again.'

With that he walked out of the door, and they heard him retreat to his bedroom. Aliza didn't know what to expect would happen next. They stood a little awkwardly looking at each other. Then Sam broke the tension by walking up to Aliza. She looked at him with big eyes as he held out his hand.

'Hi! Nice to meet you!' he says with joyful eyes.

Aliza doubts her action for a moment, before she takes his hand and shakes it.

'I guess it is,' she said, partly retreated into her mind. Their hands let go. Aliza looks up at the other boy in the room.

'Sorry I attacked you,' she tells him with a focused look.

Dean just stared at her, annoyance and a little anger still written on his young face. Then he turned and left the room without saying a word. Sam shrugged once before following. Aliza watched them go. Even after Sam shut the door with a loud bang, she remained staring.

What did just happen?

She had company now. She wasn't alone with Bobby anymore. Was that a good thing? She didn't know a thing about these boys, and one clearly didn't like her.

Still she had the urge to show him she was fun. To make him like her. She turned and laid back down in her bed, her mind still wandering.

A drop of sweat trickled down Aliza's forehead, catching in the corner of her eye. She tried to blink it away. She couldn't use her hands, since she was standing in the planking position. She kept staring up at Dean, who stood a little further in the backyard. Another flash of silver flew through the air and hit the target board Dean was aiming for.

Aliza bit the pain in her abs away. She would hold longer. She wasn't going to give up. Dean wasn't even watching her, his focus was on the tiny knives he was throwing. Still, she wanted to prove herself. She was as strong as he was. Her arms started to shake heavily. With another deep sigh she fell to the grass.

'Argh!' she exclaimed in frustration. She wanted to go again, but her body refused. She sat up and spotted Dean finally looking her way, his hand with a knife in it still hanging mid-air.

Aliza rolled her eyes. Of course he was looking when she gave up. She pushed herself to her feet – with some effort – and decided to walk up to him. He turned around and threw the last knife. It missed the target big time. He walked up to the board to retrieve the knives.

'Is this your kind of training?' Aliza asked him, staying at some distance.

Dean snorted, his back turned to her. 'I don't do useless running, if that's what you mean. Not such a fan of sweating in general.'

Aliza ignored his bad humour. 'I mean, why do you get up early to throw knives?'

She could see his shoulders tense at her question.

'Not your concern,' he threw back.

Aliza rolled his answer back and forth in her head. Then she started to laugh softly. Dean turned and faced her, surprised by her choice of response. Aliza pushed her hip out, planting a hand on it.

'I get it. You think I don't know.'

Dean scrunched his eyebrows together. 'Don't know what?'

'About monsters. About hunters.'

Dean froze. His pupils shrunk to tiny spots. He tried to stammer an answer out.

Aliza held her hand up. 'Yeah, I already saw a vampire too. Really, what is the big deal? I'm staying with Bobby for a reason you know?'

Moving faster than she could see coming, Dean suddenly appeared right in front of her. His height towered slowly over her. His eyes were furious.

'Shut up! Don't talk so loud!' Dean hissed at her. 'You think you are though because you saw a monster? And what, Bobby saved you? You can't go around, yelling things like that! Some people can't know!'

Aliza looked back up at him. Her heartbeat had increased. Unless the tension, she still focussed on his words.

'And with 'people', you mean Sam,' she whispered.

Dean took a step back in surprise. Nevertheless, the anger didn't leave his expression.

'Yes. He is too young. I want him to be a kid for a little longer,' he suddenly said with a smaller voice.

'I understand,' Aliza whispered, deliberately staring at the ground. She started to realise he was right. She didn't even think about it. She could have walked up to Sam and asked him about monsters. Her cheeks started to burn. Dean seemed to notice. He cleared his throat before walking back inside. Aliza remained outside, but she didn't feel like going for a run.

Some hours later that day, all the inhabitants of the house gathered for lunch. They ate together at the kitchen table, in complete silence. Bobby seemed to think the silence awkward. He shifted on his chair, and deliberately made big noises while making his sandwich.

Aliza was happy it was silent. She still felt terrible. Since that morning, she hadn't even faced Dean. Sam had asked her some questions about herself, but she tried not to answer. For example, he asked where her parents were. That question in particular nearly caused her to cry.

They cleared the table after lunch. Dean and Aliza set on doing the dishes. Aliza stared at the plates while she dried them.

'Dean, shall we play hide and seek?' Sam said when he ran back in the kitchen. Dean turned around to face him.

'We can't. The game is no fun with two, I told you that before,' he stated.

Sam pointed his finger at Aliza. 'But we are with three now! So we can finally play it!'

Aliza stared blankly at Sam. She wanted to play. Hide and seek was always her favourite game to play with her family. Her dad used to choose the same spot every time when Aliza was very little, so Aliza would feel good at the game.

'Uhm…I don't want to play,' she lied.

Sam's lip pouted out, his eyes shining with beginning tears. 'Please?'

Aliza did something she hadn't done all day: she directly looked at Dean. Only now she noticed he had been looking at her for a while. Dean put the plate he was holding in the rack, and dried his hands on his trousers. He closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened, his look had changed. He was no longer emotionless. He looked happy. A genuine smile on his face. Then he placed his hand on Aliza's back. She stared back.

'Sure you do. Come on, let's play,' he said.

There was no false statement. No sarcasm. He was really just…nice.

'Really?' she asked, raising one eyebrow.

Dean's smile widened. 'Really.' He turned to Sam. 'Why don't you pick a spot where the seeker needs to start?'

Sam didn't need another word before he darted out of the front door. They followed him at a slower pace.

'Look, Dean…I'm sorry,' Aliza started, but Dean interrupted her.

'No, I'm sorry. You were recently thrown into this world of nightmares, and all you do is trying to deal with it. I am just so afraid for Sammy. I don't ever want to tell him, but that is impossible. It isn't your fault. So, sorry I was mean. Can we be friends?'

Aliza took his words in slowly before replying: 'I'd like that.'

Dean took her hand and tugged her onward, running after Sam.

Oh god! Not again! Aliza thought when once again hell broke loose outside. The thunder started rolling closer and closer. It wouldn't take long before it was around the house.

A knock on the door distracted her. She faced the door. Dean poked his head in.

'Hi. Can I come in?' he asked calmly.

Aliza nodded. Dean sat with her on the bed, both with their legs crossed.

'You have trouble sleeping too?' Dean asked, looking at the clock at the wall telling it was somewhat past two. Aliza nodded.

'I hate thunder. It scares me more than demons.'

Dean's mouth fell open. 'You saw a demon?' he whispered.

Aliza raised an eyebrow. 'You haven't?'

Dean looked her straight in the eye. 'Demon possessions don't happen a lot. Maybe three or four each year. Even Bobby has only seen one once,' he told her.

Aliza was quiet. Then Dean asked: 'What happened?'

Aliza sighed deeply. She closed her eyes and considered telling him.

'A couple of weeks ago, I came home from school. My step-sister was over at a friend's house. My parents were supposed to be home. And they were, in some way. My mom started yelling at me, how I needed to die. I fled, but she send a vampire after me. I hid here, between the cars. Bobby found me and killed the vampire. Then he went back to my parents' house. That's when he found…'

Aliza swallowed. She had decided she wasn't going to cry over it anymore. What did tears help? But she couldn't help feeling like her heart got ripped out at the memory.

'My father was dead, my mother was a demon.'

She hugged her knees. A spot on the wall became her focus point, as she tried so hard not to cry. Dean sat completely still.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. His tone was steady, mature even. Aliza looked at him, and found pity in his eyes. But also…understanding?

Dean felt her question coming, so he answered.

'My mother was killed by some monster too. I don't know who or what. My dad is trying to find it, and get revenge.' Dean looked sad. Even weary. How did a child like her look so much older in his eyes, like he's been to hell and back?

She took his hand between hers. 'I'm sorry too.'

The lightning flashed, and Aliza jumped. Dean watched her, his pity for the girl growing. He placed his other hand on top of hers.

'Why don't you come with me downstairs? The sound isn't so loud, and you wouldn't have to be alone,' he offered with a smile.

Aliza nodded and followed him downstairs. The room was dark, the curtains were thick enough to block the lightning. Sam was sleeping on one edge of the bed. It was supposed to be for two people, but they were small enough to fit with three.

She slept very good that night, despite the storm. To her it felt like she got a little bit of happiness back. A bit of hope. A bit of family. Of course, with her luck, that wouldn't last long.