(3 months later)

Ali's delicate fingers clasped roughly around the neck of the bottle. She had just seen Sam pour himself a glass of the brown liquid and was hoping to have a glass herself. Bobby had often described it as 'petrol for hunters' and she had heard Dean call it hunter's helper more times than she could remember. Given this and the fact that she considered herself to be included in that bracket, she thought it was only fair that she had a glass herself.

'Whoa, Ali, no way,' Sam said, putting his glass on the table and running over to prize the whisky bottle out of her hand.

'What?' Ali asked, wondering what the issue was.

'You're not old enough to drink this,' Sam said, firmly placing the bottle on the table too.

'I'm not a kid, Sam,' Ali shot back, narrowing her eyes at him.

'You're not twenty-one, either' he replied, bending down to look her in the eye, trying his best to be as patronising as possible. Over the months she had been with them, he had found that this was the best way to get under her skin when he wanted to.

'Please, what are you like two years older than me?' she argued back, crossing her arms to enhance her glare. 'And I bet you were younger than me when you started drinking whisky.'

'Actually, I'm six years older than you and no, I wasn't younger than you,' Sam said back.

'That's bullshit!'

'Cut it out, Ali!' Dean barked from across the motel room. He'd had enough of the two bickering. As far as he was concerned, they were both children. 'Sam's right, you're not old enough to drink.' Sam straightened up, a smug look on his face as Dean made his way over, downing the remains of his own glass of whisky.

'But Dean…'

'I said no!' he repeated as he stared down the girl. Sam had wandered off back to his bed, smug expression still in place. Ali stared back at Dean, her stubbornness radiating off of her. She looked pissed and although he didn't always like it, he admired her for attempting to stand up to Sam. He broke the staring match and crouched by the mini fridge, swinging the door open to retrieve himself a cold El Sol. He peered over the door and caught Ali's gaze again, a smirk pulling at his lips. 'You want a beer?' Dean watched as an equally wide smirk took over the girl's face and he held out an opened bottle to her. Sam groaned somewhere behind her.

'Cheers,' she said as she clunked her bottle against his and took a large sip, the liquid slipping down her throat like honey.

(two weeks later)

"So you think this guy got kidnapped?" Ali asked as they drove passed the sign for Hibbing, Minnesota. She was sat in the middle of the back seat, elbows resting on the seat in front so she could talk to the two brothers.

"That's what it looks like," Sam replied as he looked at the news report he had printed off the internet.

"And this kid saw him get taken?" she asked.

"Yeah," Sam said. "We're gonna talk to him now." Ali leaned over the front seat and picked the fake ID out of Sam's lap, examining it carefully. She smirked at it, loving the excitement she felt at the prospect of another hunt, even if she wasn't going to be a part of it. She looked down at the small square photo of Sam, the letters F.B.I written along the edge.

"When do I get one of these?" she asked, handing it back to Sam.

"Never," Dean replied flatly and Sam chuckled. "Put your seat belt on," Dean instructed. Ali glared at the back of Dean's head as she slumped back onto the seat.

Soon, the impala had pulled up outside a block of apartments where the man had supposedly disappeared. Ali lounged on the leather seats as Sam and Dean changed into their sheriff's uniforms. Her fingers found the toy soldier that had been jammed in the ash tray and she smiled at it. She had noticed it the first time she rode in the back seat of the impala but had yet to find out which of the Winchesters put it there. In her head, she had decided it must have been Sam – she couldn't imagine Dean ever sitting in the back of his baby.

She was dragged from her thoughts when Dean knocked on the window. She opened the door so she could talk to him.

"We're gonna go talk to the kid," he said, adjusting the sheriff's hat on his head. "Stay in the-."

"Yeah I know," Ali said flatly. "Stay in the car, don't get involved, blah blah blah." Dean rolled his eyes at the teenager as she sank back into the seat, only stopping to give him a sarcastic salute.

"You want me to roll down a widow?" he called to her over the sound of Sam shutting the trunk, a smirk on his face.

"You want me to key your car?" Ali retorted, feeling satisfied when Dean glared at her through the glass. Sam shook his head at the two before hurrying Dean up. They had work to do.

The Winchester brothers stood in the living room of the apartment, boy and mother before them.

"I know you're just doing your job, but the police have been here all week already," Mrs McKay explained. "I don't see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it's true." Both Dean and Sam could clearly see that the mother was growing irritated.

"Mrs. McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities," Sam started.

"But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so…." Dean finished. They turned towards her son.

"Don't worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan. You just tell us what you saw," Sam said.

"I was up late, watching TV. When I heard this weird noise," the kid said. Sam frowned.

"What did it sound like?" he asked.

"It sounded like…." He paused, a tormented look on his face. It was clear how scared he was. "Like a monster."

Ali had always liked bars, finding the whisky air and the stale smell of an ash tray strangely comforting. Maybe it was because she associated it with the smell of her father when she would crawl onto his lap as a child and wrap her arms around him when he came home from a hunt. Maybe it was the fact that Bobby seemed to always have a bottle of whisky open. She wasn't sure which one of these men she associated the smell with as she entered Kugel's Key behind the Winchesters. Maybe it was both of them. Maybe it was just a thing she associated with family.

"He said he saw it pull Mr Jenkins underneath the car," Sam was telling her, filling her in on what they had discovered earlier on. "He said it took him away."

"Don't forget about what he said he heard," Dean interjected as he signalled to the bar tender.

"Right, he said he heard a whining growl," Sam said. Ali frowned.

"That sounds ominous," she replied. "What kind of monster makes a whining growl?"

"That's what we've gotta figure out," Dean replied as he emerged from the group of people standing by the bar. He handed a beer to Sam and a diet coke to Ali which she took with a scowl.

Sam took a seat at the table and immediately took out his computer, searching to find out any more information on the case he could. "Well since you don't look like you're gonna be much fun…" Dean said, making a face, "Ali, you wanna have another go at trying to beat me at darts?" He smirked at her teasingly and she glared back.

"If you're referring to that one time in Michigan, I was distracted," she shot back.

"You completely missed the board," Dean said, chuckling a little. "We had to give the owner fifty bucks for damages." Ali maintained her hard stare. "So are we playing or not?"

Ali took a sip of her drink as she stood up, marching over to the board and pulling three darts out. "21 or around the clock?" she asked. Dean looked thoughtful for a moment.

"How about highest score from three darts?" he asked. "First to 5?"

"This is gonna end badly," Sam remarked under his breath as Ali agreed and the game began. Ali wasn't bad at darts, having had a lot of practice over the last four months. Her hunting also helped along with the fact that she was an excellent shot. Given this, she could put up a fairly reasonable fight, although Dean nearly always won, resulting in Ali sulking for the next few days.

Ali went first, her three darts narrowly missing the triple twenty and giving her a score of 55. Dean grinned, hitting the 25 and bullseye with his first two darts.

"So, local police have not ruled out foul play," Sam said after finding a news report. "Apparently, there were signs of a struggle."

"Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping," Dean replied as he threw his next set of darts. "Maybe this isn't our kind of gig."

"Yeah, maybe not," Sam replied. Ali listened in to their conversation as she had her turn, taking her first win with 123. "Except for this—Dad marked the area, Dean." Dean frowned, picking his darts out of the cork board and walking over to the table. Sam had their father's journal out and was examining the pages carefully. "Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker," Sam read.

"Why would he even do that?" Dean asked.

"Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes," Sam explained. "He found this too—this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state."

"That is weird," Ali said, coming over to the table to join in the conversation. "But don't phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds?" she questioned. "That kid said Jenkins was taken from a parking lot."

"Well, there are all kinds. You know, Springhill Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime," Sam replied. "Look, Dean, I don't know if this is our kind of gig either."

"Yeah, you're right," Dean said, taking another sip of his beer. "We should ask around more tomorrow."

"Right," Sam replied, taking out his wallet as he stood up. "I saw a motel about five miles back."

"Whoa, whoa, easy," Dean said with a grin. "Let's have another round."

"We should get an early start," Sam said. Ali rolled her eyes at him.

"Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don't you, Grandma?" Dean asked, causing Ali to chuckle. Sam smiled as he grabbed his coat and started packing up his laptop. "Alright, we'll meet you outside," Dean said. "Me and Ali are just gonna finish this game." Sam shook his head at the two who immediately went back to their game. He thought it amusing and somehow endearing how competitive they were with each other. He packed up the last of his things and made his way out of the bar into the night.

"I let you win," Dean argued as he and Ali walked to the impala.

"Right, of course you did," she replied with a large smile on her face. It had been four all and Ali had managed to win the last set. To say she would be milking this for a while would be a serious understatement. They arrived at the car and Ali frowned. There was no sign of Sam.

"Look," Dean whispered, pointing to something on the hood of the car. When they reached it, Ali's stomach sank to the ground. It was John's journal.

"Sam?" Dean called as he grabbed the journal from the car and pulled open the door, checking to see if Sam was inside. He wasn't. Sam was gone.

Ali stood frozen as Dean ran to the entrance of the bar, trying to ask a couple who was leaving if they had seen anything. Seeing Dean this panicked made Ali even more panicked. She had been through this before. How could Sam just be gone?

She snapped out of her daze, frantically running to another group of people. "Did you see someone out here earlier?" she asked the group, clearly desperate. The group of people shrugged and walked away. She could hear Dean yelling for his brother so she decided she would too.

"Sam!" she yelled, trying to look through the darkness to see if she could see anything. A shadow, a movement, anything. There was nothing. She ran to Dean as they both continued to shout for Sam.

"Dean," she said suddenly, pointing up to a surveillance camera outside the bar. They ran to the centre of the road to see if they could spot a car or van that could have taken him. There were no vans. The road was deserted. There was no sign of him.

Dean sat uncomfortably in the chair as the deputy examined his fake I.D.

"So, what can we do for you, Officer Washington?" the deputy asked, the fake I.D. working like a charm.

"I'm working a missing persons," Dean replied as he interlocked his fingers in his lap, leaning back into the chair.

"I didn't know the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police," she replied, misinterpreting Dean's response.

"Oh, no. No, there's someone else," Dean corrected. "Actually, it's my cousin. We were havin' a few last night at this bar down by the highway. And I haven't seen him since." Dean kept his cool but the undertones of panic and distress for his brother in his words were still detectable.

"Does your cousin have a drinking problem?" she asked. Dean shook his head, a little amused.

"Sam? Two beers and he's doin' karaoke," he said. The deputy smiled.

"No, he wasn't drunk," Dean confirmed. "He was taken." The deputy nodded before turning towards her computer.

"Alright. What's his name?"

"Sam Winchester," he replied.

"Like the rifle?" she asked.

"Like the rifle." The deputy entered the younger Winchester's name into her computer and found the police record. Dean tensed a little, having a feeling about what she would find. He hoped it wouldn't be detrimental to him finding his brother.

"Samuel Winchester," she read, having found his profile. "So, you know that his brother, Dean Winchester, died in St. Louis," she paused as her eyes scanned the rest of the page. "And, uh, was suspected of murder." Dean cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to appear casual.

"Yeah, Dean. Kind of the black sheep of the family," he said a little awkwardly. "Handsome, though." Dean's shoulders tensed a little at the sound of snort of poorly suppressed laughter behind him. He cursed himself for letting her sit in – he should have left her in the car.

"Uh-huh," the deputy replied sceptically. "Who's the kid?" she asked, nodding towards Ali who was sitting behind Dean by the wall. He turned his head to look at her, shooting her a hard stare that said 'let me do the talking.' He had tried to get her to stay in the motel room earlier, but she had refused. He knew it was pointless asking anyway – she cared about Sam almost as much as he did.

"That's my uh…," Dean trailed off as he turned back around to face the deputy. "My niece."

"Your niece?" the deputy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"She's just along for the ride," Dean said, plastering a fake smile on his face. Ali rolled her eyes.

"Well, he's not showing up in any current field reports," the deputy said as she turned back to her computer.

"Oh, I already have a lead," Dean said. "I saw a surveillance camera by the highway."

"Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?" the deputy said.

"Right. Yeah. I'm thinking the camera picked up whatever took him," he told her. "Or, whoever," he added quickly, realising his mistake.

"Well, I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county works department, but—well, anyhow, let's do this the right way." Dean watched as the deputy stood up and walked to a filing cabinet, pulling out some paperwork. He inwardly groaned. "Why don't you fill out a missing persons report and sit tight over here?" she said, handing him a clipboard.

"Officer, look, uh, he's family," Dean said as he stood up. "I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that," the deputy said.

"Well, tell me something. Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of 'em come back?" Dean asked. She didn't say anything, simply sending him a grim look that told him everything he needed to know. "Sam's my responsibility," Dean said. "And he's coming back. I'm bringing him back."

The deputy stared at him, unsure of what to say. Finally, with a sigh, she nodded her head. "Alright," she said. "You can come with me," she said. "But only you." Ali looked up from her place leaning against the wall, ready to protest.

"I'm not sure that's the best-."

"Officer Washington," she said, interrupting Dean. "She might be your niece, but she's still a minor. I can't take her with us." She sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Okay," he sighed. "You mind if I go drop her off at our motel?" he asked. The deputy nodded.

"Sure," she replied. Dean turned to the door, nodding to Ali to follow him as he walked out of the office.

Ali sat in the damp motel room, he fingers drumming on the table, showing her anxiousness. She hated this – the waiting. The not knowing. It was her least favourite part of the past 3 months. She couldn't stand waiting for Dean and Sam to return from a hunt, not knowing if she were getting hurt. Not knowing how long they would be. Worried if they'd come back at all.

Right now, all she could think about was the man, Jenkins, who had supposedly been pulled under a car by some kind of monster. She could only think of him and the probability that Sam had met the same fate.

She had wanted to go with Dean desperately. But now, she was stuck in the room. Stuck with her thoughts. The sound of Dean's voice telling her to stay put rang in her ear, like always. It was clear to her that he worried about her – either that or he still didn't trust her fully.

Her thought's drifted to Sam. Where was he? Was he hurt? Was he scared? She didn't know. She didn't think he was dead, but maybe that was more of a hope. She was itching to leave to room, to go and help. The horror of the fact that Dean could get taken by the same thing that Sam did hit her and she wasn't sure how to calm herself down. What if they both got taken?

At that, she decided she didn't care what Dean had said. She grabbed her jacket and the small knife Dean had left her in case of an emergency, and sprinted from the room out to the parking lot. She couldn't see the impala, and she knew Dean would kill her if she ever drove it. Instead, she located a shabby looking motor bike, figuring it would be easy enough to drive. She knew how to hot wire a car, another trick she had learnt from Bobby. She just hoped the bike would be the same.

Within a few minutes, she had the engine going and climbed on, racing out of the parking lot to help her friends.

To be continued...

AN: So I guess the 2 month thing was a lie...

I was gonna do the whole episode in one chapter but it ended up being really long so I split in in half!

I probably won't be following every episode like I have with this one as there are soooo many, and also this story is primarily about Ali and her relationship with the Winchesters and other characters so I don't wanna write things that are just straight from the show. Would love to hear your thoughts on this if you agree? Of course, there are some episodes which are my absolute favourites so I will probably include those ones as well!

Hope you liked this chapter, let me know what you thought! Much love x