INDIANA

DEAN

Come on, you're not serious.

SAM

I am serious.

DEAN

It's the middle of the night! Hey, I'm taking off, I will leave your ass! You hear me?

SAM

That's what I want you to do.

DEAN

Goodbye, Sam.

Dean's eyes narrowed in frustration as Sam stormed off, hands balling into fists at his sides in the driver's seat of Baby. He knew it was the right thing to do— they had been through this before; John always seemed to know best even when he didn't explain himself. But leaving Sam behind felt like a part of him was being ripped away. "He'll catch up," he muttered under his breath, acutely aware of the defiance that would leave Allie's mouth as soon as he got in. "Get in the front, Allie."

"What?!" The yelling was heard pretty crisp, though Allie hadn't exactly expected Sam to seriously walk off into the night. "We can't just leave Sam, Dean!" Frantic words sounded like a yelp, rather than inherent anger. They were a trio - not a duo! Moving on without Sam felt wrong in every form of the meaning.

Dean shifted in both agitation and guilt. The anger took hold and he turned to lash out into the backseat, projecting his disappointment onto her. "GET IN THE FRONT, ALLIE!" To make things real simple, a drive without a body in the passenger's seat would only feel more lonely. He wasn't a fucking taxi driver. They typically always had Sam now but prior to his younger brother being back, Allie took residence in the passenger side of the front bench.

Unyielding to his raised voice and argumentative stance, Alice propped open the back door and stood up in a rush. Instead of doing as ordered, she took flight to catch up to Sam. In a mere matter of minutes his legs had already taken him meters away. "Sam!" The blonde called out, albeit semi-frantic. "Where are you going? It's dark! Come back to the car." Worried hands reached out to him, just barely grazing at his arm while Sam continued to walk on.

Sam's eyes glazed over with intent. However dramatic it may have appeared, they were at odds. Dean very rarely allowed for compromise. Their father, a goddamn blind marine, always won out in the end. John may have been their dad, but he sure as hell didn't act like it. Calling them - only to tell them not to look for him? To give up? After all the effort they put in? The statements twisted into his mind until Sam's sanity damn near cracked. What kind of father left their kids alone and worried? Theirs did, and probably would forever.

And Dean still rode on blind faith. Whatever John wanted - Dean performed like a dancing, clapping monkey. They were little toy soldiers, placed on the battlefield and marched around without care or consideration, which Dean complied with time after time.

Sam stopped when the small pads of Allie's fingertips reached out. It would be so easy to nod and continue on with them, just for her sake. As if Allie needed their family bullshit. The constant fighting, the anger, the underlying tension of being at opposite ends of what they wanted out of life. Dean could go on and on as a hunter. Sam, however, yearned to just… be. To live and breathe without stress suffocating his lungs, without the gnawing truth of death at his every Family Business. A name granted as if they were a group of fucking accountants, or something.

"I need to find dad, Allie." Thickness lay at his tone, the heavy burden of holding up shop in a forest fire and attempting to keep moving forward. The status quo began to push his shoulders down into the ground. "Dean's got his own mind. Doesn't matter what I say, he's going to Burkitsville. I'm going to California." Did it pain him to deny her? Yes, but the argument couldn't be pushed to the side as it had been for months. The brothers were at each other's necks, that was clear and space - god, Sam needed it.

"I'll go with you!" Dean could move along without her. It wasn't as though he hadn't before. Sam, on the other hand, needed companionship. Her senses became keenly aware of the differences in the brother's quite quickly. Sam desired emotional openness, understanding, normalcy. Dean… Well, Dean swayed often from side to side. The burden of being an older sibling, she supposed.

"Allie…" Sam glanced at the Impala, the back of Dean's head somehow conveying annoyance. "You can't come." He hadn't meant the statement to sound so… dismissive. "You need to stay with Dean." Without waiting for her to speak again, he sighed. "Bobby would want you to." The fact was, Sam couldn't offer the same protection. Not that he didn't want to, he did! But being a girl on the road was different from a guy. Allie? Hitchhiking? He'd never hear the end of it. "It won't be safe for you." Sure, he'd do anything to make sure she returned unscathed - but strangers were strangers, and there wouldn't be two large men at her side. Dean was the better hunter anyway.

With that, he moved away - nodding at her to go back to the car. "It's for a little while, not forever. Just a little while." It felt odd to encourage her to go back, considering that meant he would be entirely on his own. Allie and Dean got along better, though - When they weren't bickering.

She watched him walk away, hand falling to her side while his silhouette faded off down the street. There was a hope that he would turn back, realize that they needed him - something that the brothers didn't seem to understand. The three of them were a unit, damnit! They moved together, ate together, rode together, slept together! How would things be the same without the… gruesome threesome?

The name may have sounded odd, but as his outline distorted in the distance - it all became rather melancholy.

She trudged back up to the Impala, ripping open the passenger side door with thunderous purpose. "Why are you such an ass?!" Her short body bent down to make eye contact with Dean, though not slipping into the passenger side of the bench seat. "We should have gone to California!"

Dean instantly shot his head to the side. "I told you to get in the front! Why do you always do this?!" He pushed back at her, upset with her getting out of the damn car in the first place. "Dad told us to go to Burkitsville - we're going to Burkitsville!" People were dying. At the end of the day, their dad found that more important. The greater good. "Saving people, that's what we do!" No matter the crap that they endured, the shit that coated their lives day in and day out. It wasn't the Winchester show, their job was to gank every evil son of a bitch in America. End of story.

A huff was released before the curvy five foot two sank into warmed leather. Sam's body heat resided there.

Most of the drive was quiet. She missed Sam almost instantaneously. Not to mention, the air between the newfound duo turned thick and cautious; both on edge from their own anger. Trees passed in a haze and Allie soon fell asleep, blonde hair resting in a heap against the right side window.

PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA - THREE YEARS AGO

LINOLEUM TILE.

The cold pressed like mid-winter against her back, seeping through cotton. He yelled. The strain of his timbre made it into her ear canals, voice dimmed by the pain that radiated up from fractured ribs.

GURGLING. CHOKING.

Blood trickled out of her mouth, two teeth moved at the slightest gulp. The gaze that formed upwards barely held out, dizzy and blurred from the black bruises that began to form under swollen skin in combination with sudden hyphema. Truly, bodies were glorified blood bags and bones.

Greener pastures glorified in the name of GOD! Blue irises filled with blood while the visions of home and heart took over. The beating came. Knuckles took to her nose, focused primarily on striking beauty until it became a pulp of gore on the floor of their one bedroom apartment.

The choir sang out, mothers voice naked and inspired beside her.

I HEAR YOU CALL MY NAME

AND IT FEELS LIKE HOME

Tears came over the ridge of bludgeoned eyes.

I HEAR YOUR VOICE

IT'S LIKE AN ANGEL SIGHIN'

Dark curly hair sat around a smile. Stood aside stained glass windows. Clapping hands, joined in the prayer and sacrifice - the religion of loving, and being loved. Cries came out as the blissful imagery of prior parenthood surrounded her. A forceful hand brought her cheek to meet with creme flooring. "Mom!" She pled out in pain to absolution, mind playing in a tunnel of the long since buried and dead.

And he kicked her.

As if angered by her insolence, her wants, her grief. The heft of his steel toe buried itself into her side. Bones cracked beneath the weight of his perceived justification. Surely, he wanted her to remember. There would be no more long drives in the Jeep. No more male 'study buddies' at the library.

The heft came down again, knocking items from the kitchen counter that fell askew amid his desperate violence.

Sudden gasps came from her while Allie sat up in the Impala. Healed eyes darted, making sense of the surroundings rather than the midnight blues that overtook her.

Soft Metallica played from the speakers. For Whom the Bell Tolls. A classic. She settled quickly while Dean turned to look at her.

"How far out are we?" The question would hopefully avoid any pursuit of her anxious tendencies, quick to the draw of moving on.

"We aren't out. We're in." Dean spoke carefully, glancing back and forth between the road and her. "You make noises in your sleep sometimes, did you know that?" Hell, he stopped for four hours to get at least a bit of shut eye. She slept the whole way through and then some. Morning dawned on them. He wouldn't say any of the time was well spent, though, at least not in her case.

Allie slapped on a large smile, a coping mechanism. "Oh, sorry, do my wet dreams bother you? I'll try to take the quiet kitten route next time."

That wasn't what he - unless - no. The noises weren't good noises… right? She sounded like she was being fucking choked! "Uh - I-" Dean stammered before finding his footing in the conversation. "You know, you're the most foul-mouthed chick I've ever met." Maybe he would have put more thought into it if Sam's leave wasn't plaguing him.

"Aw, thanks handsome. I think that's the nicest compliment you've ever given me!" She grinned and settled back down, folding comfortably into the passenger seat.

"Don't let it get to your head, Blondie." His trademark humor came through,

"Okay, so, what's next?" Her hand waved absentmindedly, the memory of Sam walking off coming back to her.

"Lunch, then looking for clues."

Finally, they arrived and hours later walked through the man-made forestry until they stopped at the sight of a scarecrow. Dean called it "fugly". That made her laugh. She grew closer to it. It was... there was justsomething about it. Together they noticed that the scarecrow was made out of human . With all of the shit that they had seen... Alice was still growing accustomed to the more disgusting aspects of the job. She took a few steps back. "Jesus Christ! What is wrong with this town?" A large grimace and Allie turned to look at Dean. "I am... very uncomfortable right now."

Dean's face twisted in disgust, his stomach churning at the sight of the flesh-wrapped creation before them. "Maybe something cult-related." He muttered under his breath, reaching into his jacket for his trusty hunting knife as they cautiously approached it. He glanced over at Allie, noticing her pale complexion but trying not to show how much it bothered him. Calloused palms sank into his jean pockets, fishing out one of the missing posters of an out of towner. He grew closer, green eyes darting from the picture to the scarecrow.

A major identifier registered. There were black markings on the skin around the forearm of the apple orchard abomination. His mouth twitched, gaze turning up to the face of their latest clue. "Nice tat."

Well, they did figure out what was happening. The town was sacrificing people to pagan gods in an effort to keep their crops alive. Sam and Dean seemed to make up over the phone, too bad their luck ran out.

They were thrown into a damp, cold cellar by the townspeople to be sacrificed next. "We aren't a couple!" Allie pounded on the locked cellar door in an effort to persuade them, though she knew it wouldn't work. They just needed a young man and woman as a fertility offering. Low criteria there.

"Fuck!" She rested her head against a supporting beam in the cellar. "Can't wait to be bled dry so some asshole can grow a corn maze." It terrified her that Sam would have no idea what happened to them. They were left alone, the small group of townspeople leaving until sundown.

Dean paced the small confines of their prison, his hands clenched into fists as he tried to think of a way out. "We're not going down like this," he muttered under his breath, thoughts of Sam running through his mind like a haunted film reel. Plan, plan, plan. They needed a plan. While he moved back and forth, he made note of the small items surrounding them. Nothing screamed out "Use me to break open the door!" Fucking pagan worshipping psychos, not a single tool in sight. He paused in front of Allie and gently brushed her hair back from her face in an effort to soothe his female friend. "You got any tricks up your sleeve?" He questioned, hoping against hope that she had some hidden talent or weapon stashed away somewhere. They needed something - anything.

She was frustrated but his touch to her face did ease her panic. "No. They took all of my stuff before they shoved me down here." Allie threw her hands behind her head in agitation. "Fucking dickwads! Cowards!" She yelled once again while climbing a few stairs to pound on the door, only to be met with silence. Her hands fell to her sides, forehead resting on the angled wood just above. "Should I lie and say I'm not scared, like usual?"

Dean chuckled quietly, letting out a long puff of air. "I'll lie and tell you that you'll grow out of it." If they got out. Fear, a natural part of the job. He may have done it since childhood - didn't mean he never got scared; he just didn't fucking admit to it. Because that would defeat the whole point. "We need to find something to use as a weapon or distraction." His eyes roamed the damp cellar, taking in every detail of their temporary cell.

"Oh! Well, that's cheery. I feel much better now." Allie came back down the few stairs and started to dig around, searching every nook and cranny for salvation. Fuck! Even a rock would do. A stick, for Christ's sake! "You ever thought of being a therapist?" She moved things aside while sarcasm dripped out. "Or maybe a motivational coach?"

"I can be motivational." Dean replied with ease while moving to join her side, keeping the two of them as close as possible. "For example: I can't die - No good song playing. It ain't my time unless Ramblin' On comes around to play my ass out." He continued on with a small smirk. "And you can't die, because Bobby'll kill me - so I guess I gotta keep your ass sharp."

The moment was cut short by the townspeople opening the cellar door with a large creak and heavy footsteps. They had thought they had an hour or so, it seemed not. The assailants grabbed them and brought them back to the orchard before tying them to trees for the scarecrow to take them after sundown. Dean said he would come up with a plan but she knew there wasn't one. They were pretty much fucked.

"How about a little comedy?" She spoke grimly before starting to sing in a sarcastic, loud tone of defiance.

"Rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey— Whiskey makes my baby feel a little frisky!" She wrestled with her ropes. No use.

He did crack a small smile at her attempt to lighten the mood, his eyes flickering with amusement as he listened to Allie belting out that godawful country song. It was so... Allie; trying to distract themselves from their impending doom by making jokes and causing chaos. "You know," A pregnant pause and Dean took on a sarcastic tone while wiggling under tight ropes. "I always wondered what you sounded like when you sing."

She laughed. Even in the darkest moments they still had friendship. They still had each other. "Yeah, well, I figured why not make my last concert free?" She matched his sarcasm, allowing the irritation at their current predicament to cascade from parted lips. "I don't do encores though, so don't ask." She rested the back of her head against the tree and grimaced. "If they put my skin on that scarecrow it's gonna have a butterfly tramp stamp. Isn't that fun?" Great. Her teenage mistakes would live on forever.

Dean chuckled softly, his breath quickening slightly as the honesty of their scenario hit him. "Well, at least you'll be remembered for something," he replied back with a grin in his voice. He held a petite admirance for her; she was strong and resilient despite the situation they found themselves in - always trying to lighten the mood even when things looked bleakest. They were alike in that way.

As time ticked away slowly, their captors left them alone again, giving them some much-needed privacy. Although Allie was normally one to make light of situations and attempt to make others laugh... she didn't want to die as some girl who peaked in high school. She wanted to be cared for, to be understood and she certainly wanted to be warm and show her friend that she cared for him. (Even if he royally pissed her off half the time). What was she supposed to do? Take a casket dive as a cold bitch?

"You were a good mentor…" She started, somewhat hesitant due to the two of them… well they didn't really sincerely compliment each other often. Their friendship existed on bantering, bickering, flirting even! Though jokingly. The teasing broke up the monotony. "but… a better friend." Ugh, nasty. Why did the words sound so… gross? It felt unnatural to sound like shoddy day-time TV, or a YA novel.

Allie turned her face to get him in her view. "We don't talk about shit a lot but...I…." A short silence and Allie tilted her head from side to side, debating on saying the words. If they did live, she'd never hear the end of it. "Love you, or whatever." It wasn't a romantic confession. It was a vocal admission of appreciation… and comfort.

Dean froze, his heart pounding in his chest as he processed her words. Love? No... it couldn't be that. They were just friends; they had to be. But the way she said it, looking at him with those big blue eyes filled with sincerity and vulnerability, made it hard for him to focus on the meaning. Fucking sad but had anyone ever... said that to him? Other than Sam? Not that they said that kind of shit often. Wow. He was about to die as an unlovable prick. He figured as much. His dad would be sickened! He couldn't even protect his friend. He'd taught her everything she knew and now he'd be the cause of her death. "Allie..." He started, unsure of what to say next. She meant too much to him - more than any woman ever had before. Sam was fuckin' right - he didn't have friends! "I- I mean... thank you,"

She shook her you?-"Wow. That's awkward. Sure. Don't say it back." The blonde rested her head back against the tree trunk. Maybe it would have been comedic if they weren't about to be sliced and diced by a scarecrow that was possessed by a pagan God. Oh, and then skinned! Awesome. "I mean…no biggie, we're just gonna be worn as year 'round Halloween flesh costumes - but sure, yeah, thank you works." The back of her skull rested against the tree. When was the last time she told someone that she loved them? First time in years and… great. Awesome.

She shifted a bit and turned her head at the sound of a noise. "Oh fuck! Dean, it's moving. It's coming." Allie tried her best to break out of the rope tied around her as the figure approached, but it was no use. The ropes reddened her wrists, burning into her pale skin while she winced and wiggled against them.

Dean's heart raced as he heard the scraping of boots on dirt, his senses heightened to a razor-sharp edge. "Allie," he growled lowly, He could feel sweat beading on his forehead despite the chill in the air; adrenaline coursing through him like electricity. No plan, couldn't come up with a plan. They were going to die. Swallow your pride, dumbass. Say it! Spit it out! SAY IT!

"I...I care about you too." The words tumbled out finally, shocking even himself with their honesty. They sounded a bit awkward considering he didn't say such chick stuff often, but he was trying.

Allie was about to reply when she screamed shortly, only to be cut off by the sight of Sam approaching, not the scarecrow. "Oh, thank fuck." She drawled out and looked up at him with eyes wide. "Get us the hell out of here!"

Sam untied them and they stood.

The scarecrow was no longer on its stick.

"Shit!" She grew closer to the boys as they attempted to run, only to be stopped by one of the townspeople, the older woman. She forced Allie's hands behind her back. "Dean!" Allie yelled, trying in vain to struggle free whilst another stranger assisted the woman in holding her down. "Let me go, you murderer!"

"Stop struggling!" She breathed in Allie's ear, voice sounding almost apologetic while the three sacrifices attempted to break free from the group. "You don't understand. You have to do it, you have to let him take you."

Allie continued, no matter how taxing it became to be held down by two. "We're good people! How can you do this?! For crops?!"

The older woman grimaced, looking down at the fall coloured leaves that lined the orchard. "The good of the many outweighs the good of the few."

The scarecrow approached, causing the group to turn with their captors, only to sink its sickle into two of the lead townspeople before dragging them off into the woods by their wounded and gaping legs. Screams echoed amongst the dense apple trees around them.

The other civilians ran, obviously frightened of the creature and if it would return.

"We need to burn down the sacrificial tree." Sam spoke urgently, the only way to defeat the God that hung over the morally corrupt town.

Dean nodded in agreement, his eyes never leaving the possessed scarecrow as it stalked away from them with its victims in tow. "Allie, you take care of the tree," he ordered sharply, drawing out a lighter from his pocket and tossing it to her before turning his attention back to Sam as the leftover captors ran off.

Allie grabbed a nearby torch and lit it. She hesitated for a moment. Scorching the tree meant the town would die out. All of its protection would be gone. Was anyone innocent? Did everyone know about the sacrifices? She turned to look at the boys and they nodded.

It had to be done.

The blonde slowly lowered the torch to the bark and watched as the sacred tree went up in aggravated flames, licking at autumn-coloured leaves.

The ride in the Impala was a stark contrast to what she anticipated. The boys didn't fight. There was a peaceful air to the drive from the trio being back together again. Allie piped up with a short joke. "Scarecrow did a good job of keeping the crows away."

Dean couldn't help but shake his head at the lame joke, glancing over to catch Sam's slight smirk. "Almost kept us away too," he said with a shake of his head before turning back to the road ahead. "Fugly bastard."

"So... about what you said earlier..." He trailed off awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as they drove in silence for several long moments. Finally mustering up the courage, he turned to face Allie directly. "I- I mean, uh... thanks. I lo-"

Allie raised an eyebrow. For once he wasn't offering a stupid pickup line or a witty retort. She wasn't quite sure how to react. "For what?" She cut him off while their eyes connected. "Eyes on the road, hotshot." She nodded with a gleam in her eye and a wink. The sweet moment between them was nice. Maybe their friendship was changing, but that wasn't a bad thing. They were a storm now. Respect ebbed and flowed between the three misfits.

Dean shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered under his breath, focusing back on the road ahead as they continued their journey toward who knows where next. The truth was, he had meant his words. He did care for Allie. For the first time in his life, he realized that he had a friend. Not another family member or just a civilian to save but... a true friend.