The hotel room looked just as you thought when you pulled into the parking lot; like it had been paid for by the hour. And when you entered it, it only confirmed your thoughts with the printed wallpapers, the plain beds, and the few decorations on the walls.

Dean kicked his feet on top of the table as Sam threw him a beer from an ice chest nearby. "Excuse me?" Your voice was small; so small you didn't think that either had ever heard you. But they both looked up at you, consoling eyes on as they looked over you.

"Are you sure that you don't know anyone that would have it out against your parents?" Dean asked, his voice much deeper than Sam's.

You gulped running a hand through your hair and cringing at the pain when you stretched too far. "I don't know. No. I mean my parents weren't rude or anything." You tried to think of anything, of overhearing them talk, or seeing any signs. Only nothing came to mind, nothing absolutely nobody you could think of that would even be mad at your parents. "Nope. Nothing."

Dean and Sam shared a look, Dean leaned back in his seat and took a long drink out of his beer. "Okay. Do you know anyone that would want to hurt you?" Sam asked, he leaned forward, both hands wrapped around the bottle in his hand.

"Really?" You scoffed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. You ran your hands up and down your exposed and cut up legs, letting your fingers dance across a few of the cuts that seemed to still be bleeding. You got lost in thinking about everything that happened. Witches didn't seem to be too farfetched the more you thought about it. There wasn't any other explanation you could come up with as to how some invisible force attacked you and your family.

"Look." Dean started, and your attention quickly jumped to meet his gaze. His face was softer now, which made you feel more at ease talking to him, and yet you were hesitant. "Witches don't just kill random people. They have motive. We're just trying to find out what the motive was for this witch."

You closed your eyes tight, breathing in steady deep breaths. You could name a few people that had disliked you, nobody that would be willing to kill because of you though. "We know this is hard, you just lost both your parents, we understand if you need the night to think about it." Sam's added.

You looked back and forth between the two of them; a sadness flashing across both of their faces. You could tell that they too had lost someone important to them. "There's nothing to think about guys. I don't know anyone. No one who would do… this." You picked at one of the cuts on your leg, a drop of blood bubbling against your skin.

"Here," Sam rose to his feet, making his way past you. He shuffled through a bag to your left and produced a small vial of cream, a shirt, and sweats. He gave you a weary smile, "The cream helps with cuts. Heals them faster without scaring."

Hesitantly you took the belongings and slipped into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it behind you. You looked into the mirror for the first time all night and didn't even recognize the person staring back at you. Your hair was a rat's nest on top of your head, tangles from the deep sleep you had been in. Your makeup from the previous day smeared and running down your face from the tears you didn't even remember crying.

You sighed, looking down into the empty sink. Your arms, chest, legs, and stomach were littered with cuts, all small, but enough to send searing pain throughout your body. It wasn't until now, now that you were looking down and able to assess the damage done to you that you felt the pain. Searing hot stinging pain.

You set the toilet seat down and sat on top of it. The cream smelt like a bunch of herbs, as if you walked into a hippy market. It soothed you though, enough to make your previously on fire body feel cold. You told yourself over and over again to thank Sam for the clothes. In all the craziness you hadn't had time to register that you were in your own pajamas, which mainly consisted of tiny shorts and a tank-top.

After slipping Sam's clothes over your own you looked in the mirror again. You tried to run your fingers through your hair, attempting to straighten out at least some of the mess on top of your head. And that's when you overheard it, Sam and Dean arguing in the other room.

"All I am saying Sam," Dean said' "is that we can't keep her around forever. It's already bad enough you told her about witches." Your hand gripped the door handle, slowly turning it so that you could hear slightly better.

"She's our only lead Dean. I had to!" Sam raised his voice, and you couldn't help but smile that Sam was standing up for you.

You heard two more bottles being opened, "You had to. Fine. But now what?"

"I don't know!" Sam started to yell, you heard him clear his throat and assumed he was taking another drink. "What do you want to do? Take her back home? She can't go there. Not after that."

There was silence, and you were starting to feel like you had been in the bathroom for too long. You started to turn the knob again, until you heard Dean's voice again. "I know. I just…"

"She's not some stray Dean. We have her help us solve the case and we help her get back on her feet."

"And what happens when your puppy eyes play tricks on her? Huh? She doesn't deserve to join this fight. This isn't her fight. She can't turn into us."

You swung the door open, clearing your throat loud enough to have both boys look back at you. Dean almost rolled his eyes as he threw himself back into his seat. "Thanks for the help." You said, entering the room, hugging your arms close to your body.

Sam stood, motioning for you to take his seat. "Would you like a…" Sam opened the ice chest, digging his hand around the mostly melted ice. "Beer? It's all we have." He frowned

You sat in the seat slowly, still slightly feeling pain when you moved too much. "Sure." Sam started to throw you the bottle but thought about it. He pried open the lid and handed you the bottle.

X*X

About an hour ago Sam and Dean had convinced you to go to bed. Dean even took his pants off and crawled into his own bed to help reassure you that it was okay to sleep. They turned the lights off and Sam said you could use his bed, that he was going to do some more research before turning in the sheets. You hugged your blankets close to your chest, wanting nothing more than to be in your own bed.

And for the past hour you had laid their completely still listening to the sounds of Dean's small snore, and of Sam typing every few minutes. You sighed, rolling to the other side hoping it would give you enough comfort to finally fall asleep. Sam took his attention away from the laptop for a moment, seeing you laying there.

The blankets clung to her body, forcing you to use more strength than necessary for such a simple act. Your mothers face seemed fake, like a wax figurine in front of you. Tiny cuts covered her otherwise perfect skin, skin you had always been envious of. Her eyes were open, glassed over and starting to fog. Her mouth tightly shut, lips pursed together.

You pulled the blankets down a little further, revealing the black and white nightgown your mother typically wore. Only now it was in shreds around her body. More cuts, these ones deeper, redder, producing more thick blood then the others were exposed to you now. You hadn't realized you were holding your breath, not thill this moment right here.

Your father's screams were behind you, seemingly miles away as you continued to expose your mother's body. The whole bed around her was dark, past the point of being red as it stained deep into the bed around her. Finally, your father's screams seemed to be closer, close enough to pry your eyes off the bloody mess in front of you.

He sat there, pinned against the wall clinging to his throat, blood starting to happen because of the scratching he was doing. His nails digging in deep trying to pull the invisible grasp on him off. He caught your eye and reached a hand out for you. Tears were streaming down his face from lack of air. You didn't even think about it, you held him close, not even realizing you had run from the bed to him.

You felt his life leave his body, felt the last small little shutter he gave before going completely limp in your arms. You clung to him, trying as hard as you could to bring any life you could back to him. you turned him, cupping his face towards yours as you screamed and begged for him to return to you. "Please Daddy! Please!"

"Y/n!" Sam whispered. "Y/N wake up!" You pried your eyes open, feeling the thick sheen of sweat of covering your body. Sam straddled on top of you, pinning your arms and legs down. When he saw you awake he slowly raised his hands up in defense. He climbed off of you, sitting next to you so that he could watch you. You sat up, wiping the back of your hand against your wet forehead.

"What?" You asked, unable to come up with a complete sentence. You panted, looking down at your now wet body. "Happened?"

"You were uh- you were having a nightmare." Sam whispered, ran a hand through his hair, sitting back more at ease with your condition now. "And at first it was just you being restless. But then you started thrashing around and…"

"Thanks." You said. Dean lay in his bed, blankets pulled down around his ankles exposing his legs. "I didn't- I didn't wake you did I?" You asked, but from the looks of the bed you couldn't determine if he had been in with you. He wasn't wearing his jeans anymore, but the computer screen was still illuminated on the table behind him.

"No, I was just getting out of the shower." He smiled. And that was when you noticed his hair was still dripping wet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just nightmares ya know?" You shrugged the thought off, and you hoped that it was dark enough so that he couldn't see your face. Because you knew that you were lying. You sighed, "I need fresh air."

Sam nodded, moving out of the way so that you could crawl out of the bed. You stepped outside, and shivered at the cold winter air. Sam quickly joined you, leaning against the wall. "I know it's hard to lose your parents. And I know it's hard to understand everything we're trying to tell you. But it's all true. Witches, werewolves, vampires."

You turned to him finally, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Cause we need your help. The thing with witches is they don't stop until they are done. And Dean and me can watch you and protect you, but we can't always be there." He was off the wall now, his hands crossed over his chest as he started to shiver. You were cold too, but the numbness of the cold soothed your cuts to a comfortable point. "And I know its hard, but someone wanted you dead. You have to have some idea who that would be."

"Sam, I wish I had answers." Tears started to roll down your face, you couldn't control it. You tried to hold them back, but at this point it was beyond your control. "I wish I could give you a name and this could be over. But I have no idea."

Sam pulled you're into his chest, "Okay, it's okay." He cooed as he ran his hand up and down the small of your back. You cred into his chest, hugging him closer to you while your body started to shake. Your parents were dead, there was no one left to go home too, and someone still had it out for you. "Will you come back inside?" Sam asked, pulling away from you enough to see your face. When you refused to look up he pulled your chin up with a finger. "Please. Its cold out here."

You laughed, pulling away from Sam and wiping the remaining tears from your face. You looked back at his shirt, seeing your tears staining his shirt. "I am so sorry. I don't- I didn't mean to."

"Y/N it's alright. Come on." He led you inside, his arm wrapped around your waist as you both entered the room. You crawled into the bed, pulling the blankets up around you once again.

Sam hovered, scratching at the back of his neck as he looked down at the other half of the empty bed. He was tired now, but he questioned if he should just make a spot in the chair. "Sam?" You asked, turning to him, "Will you hold me a little while longer?"

Hesitantly Sam crawled into the bed, holding the blankets over him. You wrapped your arm around his stomach, resting your head gently on his chest. You could hear his heart beating, and could smell the soap he had just used in the shower on him. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him.

And this was how you both fell asleep.