Allison Venator wasn't exactly your standard 16-year-old girl. By the age of nine she had already helped defeat a vengeful spirit. She had shot her first rifle at the age of seven (a Winchester which she now thought highly amusing). The other thing that made Allison unusual was her distinct lack of blood relatives. Coming from a long line of hunters, she found it difficult to imagine that she was the last one left. In her head, she imagined that she had several distant uncles in Europe who were fighting off wendigos and shapeshifters at that every moment.

She recalled the day she had moved into Bobby Singer's spare room, the man she now considered family seeming like a stranger at the time. Bobby and her father had been great friends and even partners on a few cases. She thought it a shame that she had never been able to see them together much, her father having passed away a long time ago. Although they tended to argue a lot (like she imagined she would if he was her actual father) they did seem to get along incredibly well. Allison had a tremendous amount of respect for the man who had practically raised her since she was eleven. She also admired the fact that he was a great hunter.

"What the hell is this thing?" Dean asked, irritated by the case they had now been working on for nearly a week. Allison was pulled from her thoughts but Dean's outburst and sat up from her position lying on Sam's bed. She had wanted to stay in her own room but Dean had demanded she did not leave his sight until he had delivered her safely back to Bobby. All in all, Allison felt more like a package that had been stamped fragile than a hunter.

"Maybe we're just thinking about it too much," Sam suggested. "Maybe its simpler than we think." The two had become even more stressed about the case after Allison had turned up three days ago. Since then, another person had been found dead, this time not in the house, though the markings on the body had been similar to the second victim.

"It's not a ghost, that's for sure," Allison said as she examined the forensic photographs of one of the bodies. Dean and Sam both turned to look at her, surprised by her remark. The girl had barely spoken since Dean had told her she would be going back to Bobby's as soon as they had finished the case. In fact, he had wanted her gone sooner, but he couldn't bring himself to abandon the case when people in this town were dropping like flies.

"Yeah, thanks for that," Dean grumbled. "Any other bright ideas?" Allison rolled her eyes.

"If you don't want my help, that's fine," she said icily.

"Wonderful," Dean replied. She rolled her eyes again.

"Why did you think it was a ghost anyway?" Allison asked. Dean sighed.

"Husband reported cold spots," Dean said, remembering his first conversation with the man.

"Maybe he was lying?" Allison suggested.

"Why would he lie about that?" Dean asked, feeling like the conversation was leading nowhere useful. Allison shrugged.

"People lie all the time." Dean rolled his eyes. "Think about it," she continued. "The guy just lost his wife and he's banging on about cold spots?"

"She has a point, Dean," Sam said. Dean released a breath.

"Fine, we'll check out the husband," he said, grabbing his father's journal and his coat. Allison did the same, shoving her feet into her boots. "You are not coming," Dean said when he noticed what she was doing.

"Why not?" the girl replied with a scowl.

"You don't exactly look like an FBI agent," Dean said.

"Maybe she could just wait in the car?" Sam suggested.

"No, Sam," Dean barked. The three fell silent. "Stay here," he instructed Allison who glared at him before lying back down on the bed in annoyance.

The Winchester brothers exited the motel room and made their way to the parking lot where the impala sat. Dean took the driver's seat without a word, still feeling irritated with the whole 'Allison' situation. He found the silence from Sam almost as infuriating. The younger Winchester sat awkwardly in the passenger seat, his shoulder's tense.

"If you have something to say, just say it," Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot. Sam sighed.

"You should lay off her," he said. "She's just trying to help."

"We don't need her help, Sam, she's a kid," Dean said.

"And we weren't when we started?" Sam argued. "We could just help her find out what happened to her brother. Maybe we could use her?" Dean shook his head. "Bobby says she's a hell of a shot."

"Shooting at cans is different from killing a monster, Sam," Dean said.

"I know that. But don't you think we should give her a chance?" Sam asked.

"A chance at what? Revenge?" Dean shouted. "We both know what that road leads too."

"Come on, Dean. Bobby said it himself, he's basically raised her since her brother died," Sam said. "I mean she's practically family!"

"Yeah and you know what happens to our family?" Dean asked angrily. "They end up dead, Sammy."

"We could just give her a few weeks to-."

"No. She's a kid," Dean repeated. "She's inexperienced and she's a liability. I don't need someone else to worry about."

"Dean…"

"No Sam! I said no," Dean said, cutting Sam off once again. "As soon as we finish this case she's going right back to where she came from." The two fell silent in the car, Dean regretting getting cross with his brother but knowing it was for the best. Allison couldn't stay with them.

"Fine," Sam said finally. "I'll drop her off at Bobby's this weekend."

"Right, well now we got that out of the way, what the hell are we hunting?" Dean said, trying to change the subject. Sam sighed, realising he needed to remain civil with his brother if they were going to get through the case without another person turning up dead.

"I dunno, I've been trying to find something in Dad's journal but so far, nada," Sam said.

"We think it's the husband, right? So maybe some kind of god sacrificing people?" Dean suggested.

"Yeah maybe," Sam said, but he wasn't so sure. "What if it's not the husband?" Dean frowned.

"I thought we just said-."

"No, what if it is the husband, but the husband's not the husband," Sam explained.

"You mean like a shifter?" Dean asked.

"I mean, it's possible, right?" Dean pulled up outside the house belonging to the first victim's family.

"There's only one way to find out," Dean said as he stepped out of the impala and made his way around to the trunk. He opened it, looking through the weapons to see if he could find what he was looking for. "Got it," he said as he drew the silver blade from the bag.

"What are you gonna do, stab him?" Sam asked incredulously.

"No, I'll make sure first," Dean said. "Then I'll stab him." The two made their way onto the porch, Sam knocking on the door as he held his breath. The man answered the door after a few moments, looking a little apprehensive when he saw it was the two FBI agents again. Sam and Dean were on red alert, watching for any signs that this man was lying.

"Hi, Mr Greene," Sam said. "As you probably know, there's been another attack and we were wondering if we could ask you a few more questions."

"Of course," he said nervously. "Come in." Mr Greene lead them through to the living room where they both took a seat on the couch in the same way they had almost a week ago when they had first discovered the case.

"Mr Greene," Sam started. "Where were you yesterday evening, around 8:30?"

"Is this some kind of interrogation?" he asked, his fingers scratching on the fabric of the couch.

"Just routine questions," Dean reassured.

"I was here, with my girls," he said, referring to his two daughters.

"Of course," Sam said. "Are they here?"

"There at the neighbours," he replied. "I needed some time."

"I understand," Sam replied, giving him an assuring smile. "And you didn't hear anything around that time?" he asked. "No screams, no cars outside?"

"No, nothing," he replied. Dean noted how his forehead seemed to glisten with sweat. His blinking was funny too, like he was trying not to too often. He was clearly hiding something.

"Okay, that's all we need," Dean said, sending Mr Greene a fake smile. "Thank you for your time." Dean stretched his hand out, the blade poking out of his sleeve just enough for it to be able to touch the man's palm when he shook his hand.

Mr Greene looked hesitant, but finally grasped Dean's hand firmly and shook it. Nothing happened. Dean frowned before nodding to Sam that it was time to leave.

Sam and Dean arrived back to the motel to find Allison asleep at the table, her head resting on the key board of Sam's computer. A pen was still in her hand, the nib resting on a post-it note

"Hey Kiddo," Dean called, causing the girl to jolt awake. She squinted at the bright light invading her eyes.

"Hmm?" she murmured, rubbing her eyes. "What happened?"

"Well the guy's not a shifter, but he's definitely hiding something," Dean said, grabbing a beer for himself and offering one to Sam which he declined.

"Were you on my computer?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes at the girl and ignoring what Dean was saying.

"Yeah," she said flatly. "I wouldn't've had to if you hadn't failed to mention that the house is right next to the town cemetery." She turned the screen around so they could both see, her finger pointing to the house on a map.

"So?" Dean asked.

"I dunno, I just figured that would be important," she said with a shrug. She continued to wrack her brains, trying to think of anything that it could be. A Vetala? No, they're vulnerable to silver. Nachzehrer? Possibly. But she still felt like they were missing something. Through her thoughts she could vaguely hear Sam and Dean discussing the whether it could be a Rugaru. She hoped not.

Then, all of a sudden, the thought hit her like a bullet, and she yelled for Sam and Dean. "You need to get back to the house right now," she said. "Like right now."

"Why?" Sam asked. "What is it?"

"Because I think the real Mr Greene could still be alive," Allison said. Sam and Dean looked at her sceptically.

"How?" Dean asked. "We already ruled out shapeshifter."

"Because it's not a shifter," she replied. "It's a ghoul."

"A ghoul?" Dean asked.

"They can take the form of anyone they've fed off of, even if they're still alive. They usually hang around graveyards but I guess this one decided to go for a wonder."

"How do we kill it?" Sam asked urgently.

"Head shots," Dean replied grimly.

"Go," Allison urged.

"Wait a second," Dean said. "How can we be sure you know what you're talking about? That it really is a ghoul?"

"I do," she said. "We don't have time for this, you need to go. Now!" Dean hesitated before nodding to Sam that they should leave. He worried that maybe he had been a fool to listen to a sixteen-year-old girl about how to kill the monster they were fighting, but something in her eyes made him change his mind. Something told him he could trust her.

As soon as they arrived back at the house, Dean kicked the door open, storming in to the living room. There was no sign of Mr Greene.

"Dean," Sam whispered, signally to the stairs. Dean nodded, heading over and quietly making his way up, riffle at the ready. Sam stayed down stairs to continue to look for the ghoul.

Dean found his way to the landing, carefully stepping on the creaky floorboards to make as little noise as possible. Suddenly, a body slammed into him, knocking him onto his back. The Mr Gre- the ghoul was now on top of him, a knife in his hand as he tried to stab Dean.

"Get off me, you son of a bitch," Dean shouted as he hit the ghoul in the head with the butt of his riffle. The ghoul fell back and Dean was able to shoot it in the chest, though this didn't do much to slow it down.

"I had a feeling you and your partner weren't who you said you were," the ghoul said. Dean scoffed.

"I know what you mean," he said, whacking it over the head. It recovered quickly, slashing out with the knife and cutting Dean's arm, though the wound wasn't very deep. "You're a bit sloppy for a ghoul, aren't you?"

"The woman was a mistake," he said. "But she figured out I wasn't her husband."

"Did you kill him too?" Dean asked. The ghoul smirked but didn't give an answer, only hitting Dean in the face again. The blow was hard and Dean wasn't able to recover before the ghoul sent another blow to his chest, sending him down the stair. Dean groaned in pain when he hit the bottom, his chest feeling tight after being winded.

"Dean!" Sam yelled when he noticed his brother on the floor.

"Go get that bastard," Dean said pulling himself to his feet. Sam nodded, running up the stairs. Dean followed soon after once he had his bearings. Sam was doing pretty well with it, but the ghoul had the upper hand like he had done with Dean.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, temporarily distracting the ghoul, giving Dean enough time to fire the riffle, blowing the monster's head off instantly. The body crumpled to the floor with a thud.

"You alright," Dean asked Sam as he caught his breath.

"Yeah, you?" Sam asked. Dean nodded. "I heard a noise in the basement, I think it could be Mr Greene."

The pair made their way down the stairs, busting open the basement door with the help of a bullet before rushing down the stairs. The room was pitch black and smelt damp, a feint sound of a dripping pipe in the distance. Sam pulled out a flash light, sighing in relief when they saw a very much alive Mr Greene.

She sighed once again as she rolled over onto her back and kicked the covers to her feet. Allison wasn't the kind of girl who usually found it hard to sleep, but ever since the start of the beginning of her week with the Winchester brothers she had found it hard to get a regular amount of shut eye.

She wasn't sure what exactly it was about the two hunters that kept her so on edge. Maybe it was the way Sam's reassuring smiles at her never quite reached his eyes. Maybe it was the way Dean tried to avoid her at all cost. It was true that Allison and the eldest Winchester had started off on the wrong foot but she had hoped (and she thought Sam had too) that they would find a way to be civil with each other.

It problem wasn't exactly the fact that they argued. Truth be told, they had their fair share of spats but they had never really argued in the way she assumed two people who didn't get along would. The problem was the fact that Allison and Dean pretty much acted like the other didn't exist. Dean would nod to her in the mornings and tell her to stay put in the motel every now and again, but other than those hasty interactions, she had barely spoken more than a sentence to him since the first day she had met the Winchesters nearly a week ago.

Her relationship with Sam was moderately better. They chatted and talked and it was obvious to Allison that the younger brother pitied her somewhat. She wasn't sure that she liked it but at least he tried.

She had even caught Sam talking to Dean about letting her stay with them for a couple of weeks, the thin motel walls lending themselves perfectly to eavesdropping. She remembered Sam telling Dean he needed to suck it up and push back any sour feelings he had with her if they were going to make the situation work. However, each time Sam had brought it up Dean had insisted that he was handling things and that Sam just needed to back off until she was gone. Allison didn't like the fact that she had been the cause of some upset between the two brothers. She found it made the already uncomfortable situation even worse.

She rolled over once more and swung her legs over the edge of the bed so she could sit up. She ran her hands through her dirty blonde hair before rubbing them over her face. The circumstances under which she had come to meet the Winchesters didn't help to make their current state of affairs any easier either. She had basically asked two strangers to help her find what killed her brother. The only reason she had even tried to find them was because Bobby refused and she remembered all the stories he had told her about John and his sons.

That's how she had found herself meeting the Winchesters. And that was then how she was going to find herself back in her room at Bobby's house at that time tomorrow.

Allison slid off of the bed and made her way to the door, gently cracking it open so as not to wake the sleeping Winchesters in the room next to her. The automatic light flickered on outside the motel room, the darkness suddenly being illuminated. A figure leant against the balcony railing and she gasped, not having expected to have company.

Dean looked up from the beer in his hand, his eyes narrowed at the girl as his pupils adjusted to the sudden brightness. Allison noted the two other unopened bottles at his feet.

"Sorry," she started as she hovered by the door, not sure whether she should go back in or not. "I didn't think anyone would be up."

Dean nodded as he took a sip of his beer, his eyes not leaving the girl at the door. Although she had been with them for almost a week now and she was practically Bobby's daughter, Dean was still weary of her. He and his brother still didn't know much about the girl who had unexpectedly knocked on their door and he still didn't fully trust her, although it was clear his brother did. He knew his feelings were probably irrational, she was just a kid after all, but Dean knew all too well that you could never be too careful.

He also knew that something needed to change. His relationship with his brother had been rocky since Allison had arrived. All Sam ever seemed to talk about now was how they were making a mistake in taking her back to Bobby's and that they should give her a chance. All he knew is that the girl would be out their hair by the end of the weekend and safely back at Bobby's. Then all the stress of the situation would be over and he and Sam could go back to normal.

"You alright," he asked her offhandedly and she knew he didn't really care for the answer. She knew the real question he was asking: 'why are you here disturbing my late-night drinking session?'

"Couldn't sleep," she said flatly. Dean raised his eyebrows at her before deciding to let it go. The man before her leant away from the railing where he was resting and went to put the empty bottle in the trash. As he did, Allison noticed that he was dressed in only sweatpants and a Metallica t-shirt. "Did everything go okay on the hunt?" she questioned, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah," Dean replied turning around to face her. He contemplated congratulating her for figuring out what the thing that was killing people was but decided against it, simply adding, "it was a ghoul" to let her know she was right. "And we found Mr Greene in the basement. He's back with his family now." She nodded.

Dean leant down to grab another beer, using the metal railing to crack it open. As he did, Allison noticed his sharp intake of breath as if in pain. She frowned, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest as best she could. It seemed a little too shallow. She also noted how his body was awkwardly resting on the railing in a kind of slumped way. Allison had only ever seen someone need to support themselves like that for one of two reasons: they were drunk or in pain. She considered whether in Dean's case it could be both but decided that it was unlikely someone like Dean could get drunk from one beer, if at all.

"Did something happen on the hunt?" she asked in concern, feeling a little more confidence than she usually did around the elder Winchester.

"No," Dean said quickly before coughing and trying to play it cool. "It all went smoothly."

"Really?" Allison asked sceptically.

"Yeah, really," Dean replied. "Why?"

"You're leaning on the railing with your left arm, your breathing is shallower than usual and I've never seen a hunter wince when they drink beer,' she said flatly.

"You been stalking me or something?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. She scoffed.

"I've been here nearly a week and we've barely spoken," she deadpanned. "Your mannerisms are all I have to go on." She took a breath. "I know something's going on."

"There's nothing going on," he warned.

"Please, it's a classic case of 'Dean's hiding something and doesn't want Sam to find out about it'."

"Hey, don't act like you know me, you don't know a damn thing!" he bellowed but she didn't let it faze her.

"And now you're getting defensive," Allison said and he sighed, looking down and pinching his nose. He looked like he was tired, and not just because it was the middle of the night. "Look, either you tell me or you're going to have to answer to Sam tomorrow." He didn't reply, simply looking at her with an annoyed expression he pulled when he knew he had lost. "Come on, let me take a look."

She pushed him towards a bench and although Allison thought he appeared irritated by her semi manhandling, he didn't resist. He took a seat and she gestured for him to raise his right arm above his head. She tentatively guided his arm up, hand holding firmly to his elbow. She stopped briefly when she saw him wince and muttered a quick "sorry" under her breath.

"You sure you're qualified for this?" Dean asked apprehensively. She chuckled.

"My brother was pretty accident prone when we were growing up," Allison said, smiling a little as she thought of the memory. "I remember this one time when I was six he tried to slide all the way down the banister. Broke his arm in two places." Her chest tightened at the memory.

"Ouch," Dean laughed, trying to lighten the mood when he saw her solemn expression.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling a little at his comment though it didn't reach her eyes. She pressed her hand to his side, moving her thumb over each intercostal space carefully, but firmly, Dean murmuring to her when he felt pain. Dean was surprised at how competent she seemed as she told him to breathe in and out. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought she was a med student at least.

"It's pretty reckless," Dean started suddenly as Allison continued to prod his rib cage with her fingers. "Doing what you're doing." She blinked a few times though didn't look up to meet his eyes.

"He's my brother, he's all I have," she said. "I have to find what killed him."

"Revenge is a dangerous road to go down," Dean told her, his voice taking on a serious tone. He needed her to understand the danger of her recklessness and frankly, suicidal behaviour. She sighed.

"This isn't about revenge, Dean. I just - I wanna know what happened to him." She lifted his shirt slightly, taking a peak at his ribs without seeming too intrusive. She frowned at the large purple bruise that had started to form on his side.

"Is it really worth it to you?" Dean asked as Allison pulled the flannel back down. She seemed deep in thought for a moment before she looked up at Dean, the two making eye contact for the first time that night.

"If it were Sam, would it be worth it to you?" she asked him. Dean stared at her, her questing hitting an uncomfortable spot inside him. If it were Sam, would it be worth it? Dean didn't even need to think twice: of course, it would be. Allison lowered her gaze before standing up straight, not waiting for Dean's reply.

"You have a cracked rib," she said, her diagnosing complete. "Better lay off the hunting for a few weeks," she told him with a small smirk which Dean replied to with an eye roll. Dean watched as she made her way back to the motel room.

"Night, Ali," he said with a small smile. She frowned. When did he start calling her Ali? Not that she minded, she preferred it when people used her nickname.

"Night, Dean," she said quietly, her door clicking shut behind her.

"You got 2 months," Dean's voice said as he walked through the motel door. Sam had been helping Ali pack up her stuff to go home whilst Dean went out to buy them all breakfast. The two looked up at the eldest Winchester.

"What?" Ali asked with a frown.

"2 months," he repeated. "That's all you're getting. We try and find the son-of-a-bitch who killed your brother and if we find nothing in 2 months, you go straight back to Bobby's and stop, okay?" Ali stared at Dean in shock. Was he really giving her a chance?

"Seriously?" she asked, a little sceptical. "You're letting me stick around?" Dean blinked slowly as if he knew he was going to regret his decision,

"Yeah," he signed. "But any hunts we do on the way, you're sitting out," he explained. "You do exactly as I say, you're not gonna complain and you're not gonna do anything stupid, okay?"

Ali nodded, trying to supress the grin that was forming on her face.

"2 months, that's it," he said before walking over to the table and pulling his burger out of the paper bag. Ali turned to Sam who smiled at her as he sent her a wink.

2 months, Ali thought.

She could work with that.

AN: So that was chapter 2! Hope you liked it :)

Let me know what you thought, much love x