I woke up in my bed. My bed...in my house.

I sat up straight with a rush of adrenaline, lifting my hands to face to rub my eyes and the sides of my head, trying to make sure I was seeing right. I opened my eyes, looking around, trying to see evidences of all that had happened to me, trying to figure out what was going on. I drew my hands along the top of my duvet and felt its soft familiarity. 

Am I dreaming?

"Hello Lynn, Sweetheart!" I heard a familiar voice call to me from the doorway of my bedroom. There was Gramma, looking fresh and lovely, like she was going to be going out for the day. Dressed up like I hadn't seen her do in years. She even had makeup on!

"Gramma!" I choked out breathlessly. I flung my covers back and tore across my room like a 5 year old at Christmas, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face in her neck. I inhaled her beautiful, flowery, powder-like scent as I held her and cried and cried.

I wondered why she didn't find it weird that I was behaving like this. I mean, she didn't say a word, just hugged me and rubbed my back, whispering nonsense words of comfort to me.

I finally gasped for air and lifted my face from her shoulder, burying my chin there instead. Closing my eyes, I searched for the words.

"Gramma, I...I thought you were dead. I thought that something," I hesitated, scrunching my nose, "horrible, just awful had happened to you and I hadn't been there to save you!"

"I know, dear, I know."

"There were these two men, they saved me, but we were too late to save you and I couldn't live with myself. I just wanted to die Gramma...I just wanted to die!"

"Sh, sweetheart, I know..."

"Gramma, it was so...so," I paused, taking a deep breath as I felt my emotions calm down a little. "It was so real. You were dead."

"I know, Lynn. I know."

My eyebrows scrunched together as I realized what she was saying. I leaned back from hugging her to look into her face, "What do you mean, you know? Gramma, how could you know?"

Suddenly, her face clouded with tears. "I'm only here for a little while, Lynn." 

Her clothing. Her makeup. The fact she was upstairs without assistance. This was how Gramma had been when I was small. She hadn't been like this...couldn't be like this...in years.

"Gramma..." I felt a wail begin building in my heart, burning up to my throat.

Gramma's face got fuzzier and fuzzier...suddenly she was on the floor...and there was blood...and I couldn't stop it...

"Lynn! Lynn! Wake up, you're dreaming! Come on, don't cry, just wake up, it's a dream!" A masculine voice whisper-shouted at me while my shoulder was gently shook.

I opened my eyes partially, slowly, looking down. The knowledge that it had all been a dream began to burn inside me, flowing over me in sickening waves. Tears welled in my eyes and spit down my cheeks. 

"Hey, hey, hey-hey, Lynn, here," my brain recognized Dean's whisper and I raised my gaze to look up at him, but my tears were blurring everything. My nose began to run unceremoniously and I sniffed hard, sitting up on my right elbow and wiping my face with my left sleeve.

Now that I could see more clearly, I looked over at Dean as he stared at me from his side of the bed.

"You alright?" I stared above him and across the room at the sleeping form of Sam on the other bed. I didn't answer Dean, but I slowly nodded. In my peripheral, I saw Dean nod slowly and look behind me at the alarm clock. He laid back down on his back and stretched his arms up in the air.

"Only 6:00, we'll sleep a little longer before we hit the road again." Dean dropped his arms, laying one arm over his eyes, wiggling his fingers before stretching them out and letting them go limp.

I whipped my head around to look at the clock.

How is it only six o'clock? I felt like it's been hours since I last fell asleep...less than half an hour ago??

I slowly turned back and looked at Sam, who was somehow still oblivious of everything around him.

At least I didn't wake him up...it's bad enough I keep bothering Dean; especially when Dean is the apparent "driver" for wherever we are headed. Speaking of which...

"Dean?" I said softly as I lowered myself back amongst the pillows and blankets.

"Mm-hmm?" Dean groaned back.

"Um, thank you for all you and Sam are doing...for protecting me..." I felt tears sting my eyes but I swallowed and kept talking, "I was just wondering if you knew where we were...you know, like...going." I hugged a bunched up piece of motel comforter close to me as I stared at Dean's arm, wondering if he was awake enough to answer.

"We're gonna go to Bobby's." Dean said blankly. Like I would know who that was. Before I could say anything, Dean added, "He'll know what's going on...he'll know what to do."

I wanted to ask who Bobby was, but something told me I'd find out soon enough. I stayed huddled in the blankets, watching Dean's breaths get deeper and more even, his chest rising and falling in slower and slower beats. His arm stayed across his face, so I waited until I knew he was asleep, before carefully moving his arm off of his eyes and onto his chest. He stirred a little, muttered something and then rolled away from me, facing Sam. I stared at his back, frozen in time again. One second it was like things were moving so fast my memories were being obliterated, and then the next it was like time had slowed to the point that I could count how many heartbeats I took during each breath.

I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling. The room was kinda dingy, the paint yellowed with age and ancient cigarette smoke...and some not so ancient depending on the morals of the occupants. I lowered my chin to my chest and saw that there was a TV unit along the wall at the foot of our beds with curtained windows on either side. On my left there was a little room to walk and then a hallway to where I assumed was the bathroom. I looked at the small red numbers of the alarm clock and sighed. It was now 6:10. Time actually went faster when I was awake.

Who knew?

I glanced over at Dean again, but he hadn't moved, sound asleep again. Slowly I slid the covers off of myself and sat up. 

My head spun from the pressure my crying had created in my sinuses. I breathed slowly and deeply, willing the nausea to lessen, forcing myself to stay calm...and not cry. Crying only makes everything worse.

I stood up like an old, crippled woman. I used my hand to support my lower back as I made my way across the tiny hall and into the bathroom. I found the light with my one hand and closed the door with the other before I flicked the light on so the brightness wouldn't wake the men in the other room. I made my way to the toilet to relieve my poor bladder.

It's amazing the things that don't matter when you're fighting for your life and yet dying from grief.

I stood up to wash my hands, still dark and caked with blood.

How in the world did the guys get us into this motel without anyone being suspicious?

I pushed my sleeves up and washed my hands and my arms all the way to the elbows, all the while being careful not to look in the bathroom's tiny mirror. I dried my arms and hands and then gripped the edges of the sink, my heart heavy in my chest. Slowly, I raised my head and looked in the mirror. And I did not know the girl that looked back.

My hair was fuzzy and dirty. I could see darkened streaks of dried blood near the roots in some spots that framed my face. My collar was dirty...how it got so dirty, I had not a clue. Small blood stains were scattered all over my clothing. My face...my face was streaked with blood, under my eyes puffy and swollen from hours of tears falling. But my eyes...that was what I did not know.

I'd known a fair bit of tragedy in my young life. More than most. And that was fine. Because I'd always had someone. But now...as I looked into the lost, empty, dead eyes of the girl in the mirror, I knew it was different. Because this time...I had no one.

No.

One.

Left.

But somehow...for some weird, paradoxical reason, I was alive. I was breathing. And those two sleeping men out there, for whatever their reasoning, had risked life and limb to save me and keep me alive. I looked at the girl in the mirror, I looked her dead in the eyes as I watched those eyes fill with unshed tears.

You can't cry anymore about this.

Not right now.

You need to get cleaned up, and get ready for whatever is coming...these men who saved you, they didn't risk everything for nothing and you've got to be prepared for whatever may be coming at you next.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head between my shoulder blades, stretching out my neck and back. I inhaled deeply and held it for a few moments before letting it out in a rush and raising my head again.

You don't have to worry about tomorrow...you've just got to worry about getting yourself cleaned up.

And for a split second, the eyes in the mirror flashed something other than deadness and sorrow...life sparked for a moment. I smirked grimly and stood up straight, finding a towel and shampoo and other toiletries before stripping to get in the shower.

The shower was beautiful, relaxing, soothing, and far more therapeutic than I ever thought a simple, dingy shower could be. I sat down in the bottom of the tub, pulling my legs towards my chest and arching my back under the warm water flowing over my aching body. I didn't think, just emptied my mind and let the water soothe every part of me: mind, body and soul. Eventually I broke out of my reverie, washing up and feeling remarkably different as I exited the shower, finding a nice big towel that would actually fit around my curves.

As I wrapped another towel around my hair, I looked at my dirty clothes on the floor, the only clothes I had left in the world. I felt the blubbering start deep in my brain and I mentally strangled it as I picked up the items off the floor. I decided to wash my underwear and use the small hair dryer the motel magically provided to dry them out. 

In only ten minutes they were only slightly damp and I only cringed 3 times as I put them on, the cool dampness finally warming against my body. My outer shirt and jacket were bloodstained, only my tank top was stain free. My pants...well, they were jeans, so I spot cleaned the blood off of them, slid them on and threw on my tank top. I filled the sink with cold water, plugging it and put my jacket and blouse into the water. Hopefully some of the stains would come out before Dean and Sam decided it was time to go.

I towel dried my hair and using an elastic I found in my pants pocket, I threw my hair up into a messy bun. I wandered back to the mirror and peered at the girl in the reflection. I wrinkled my nose at the lack of makeup, not that I wore a lot normally, but the little I did wear, I needed. But I was clean. There was colour in my cheeks again and amazingly, in spite of everything, I actually did feel better.

I left my towels on drying racks in the bathroom and turned out the light, carefully opening the bathroom door so it wouldn't creak. I listened for a moment, trying to hear if anyone else was awake yet. When I heard nothing I quietly walked back down the small hallway and to my bed. 

Sam and Dean were both still asleep, but the room was slightly illuminated from the sunlight peeking through the cracks around the edge of the curtained windows. I slid back into bed and laid down. There was nothing else to do while they were still sleeping. I laid my right arm over my head on top of my pillow, softly tapping the top of my messy bun with my fingertips. Thinking. But not really. More like, relaxing my muscles and remembering what it was like to just breathe. I closed my eyes and remembered...

"This will be a new start for us, Lynn." Mom had smiled at me in the rearview mirror as we headed across the border into the States. Her father had been born and raised in Ennisbrooke and after all that had happened, she wanted to reconnect with the family there.

I smiled back at her and hid the tears that wanted to fall. I was so unsure about this move...I didn't know this family at all. I'd only ever known Aunt Saoirse, so thankfully she was going to be one familiar face. Gramma, Mom and I were going to move in with her. Gramma was getting sicker and Aunt Saoirse couldn't leave her job, so we were moving to be all together.

Even as I felt the nerves and anxiety of the move, I felt myself surge with the intoxicating sensation of adventure...if only I had known...

Sam sitting up ended my reverie. He got all squinty when he first awoke, just like his brother. He held his head in his hands for a moment and sat on the side of the bed. Then in one swift movement he dropped his hands, grabbed some clothing that was laying on the bed and strode across the room and into the bathroom. I lay there listening until I heard the shower turn on.

I hope my clothes in the sink don't get in his way...

I sat up and decided I needed to get some fresh air...danger or no danger. I stood up off the bed and adjusted my clothes. I only had my tank top on and pants on, so I decided to look for my shoes and a jacket to borrow. I tiptoed carefully around the room ,the dim light from the curtains giving just enough brightness to...kinda...see. I finally found them by a duffel bag that had been dropped by the TV stand. Slipping them on, I snagged a coat that had been flung on Sam's bed and slid it on. I then went to the motel door, turned the lock and headed outside.

I guess I expected a hallway, but this was a real motel: just a strip of rooms, each one accessible from outside. I saw a vending machine and decided to walk over and see if someone had left any change in the change return. Finding none, I raised my hand and ran it over the lit up plastic cover. Weird how such an everyday thing made me feel nostalgic right now.

I guess I've never felt this lost before.

I looked back over my shoulder and saw the Impala parked out front of our room. I smiled softly and decided to walk back and over to it. I let my fingers run gently over her hood, admiring the paint work, the shiny chrome, the superior design.

"So beautiful." I whispered to the air before shoving both my hands into the pockets of the oversized jacket I had borrowed. I felt some change, paper receipts, a pocket knife and a small...what was that? I furrowed my brows and pulled a small cylindrical object out of Sam's pocket...

"LYNN!!" Dean's voice made me jump straight into the air and drop, what I now recognized as, a flashlight.

"Dean!" I gasped as my heart raced and I placed my hand on my chest, bending my body over in an attempt to calm down. "What the?"

"Where the heck did you go?" Dean demanded. He was not happy. At all.

"I just came out for a breath of fresh air! I walked over to the pop machine, looked at it for a minute and came back here to look at the car." I explained as I picked up the flashlight and returned it to the pocket it came from.

"Oh!" Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, "and you didn't think to tell us that you were going out?"

"Sam was in the shower and you were sleeping!" I felt awful. I didn't feel bad I'd left, I felt bad that I'd made him so upset and worried. I lowered my head and felt the tears stinging my eyes.

You freakin' sissy!! Get yourself together!

In spite of my inner pep talk, my lip began to tremble, "I'm...so sorry, Dean." I inhaled sharply, trying to hold the tears back. "I'm so, so sorry to make you worry."

Dean's mouth opened and closed a few times before he started to speak, but then it came out like a squeak. He coughed and covered his mouth with his hand before rubbing his chin and looking at me. When he spoke again his voice was a solid octave lower than normal.

"Just...come inside, ok? We don't want to be wondering about where you are." Dean opened the door further to reveal a wet-haired Sam standing just behind him, worry evident in his face.

I smiled sheepishly as I walked back in, sliding off Sam's jacket and handing it back to him.

"I just wanted to borrow it, it was a little nippy out." I said softly as he took it from me.

"That's fine, I'm glad you did." I looked up at him funny, and he started to stutter, "I mean, I'm glad you were ok with borrowing it and not just wandering around in the cold with wet hair." Sam smiled indulgently at me before adding, "I saw your clothes in the sink so I gave them a scrub and their hanging on the towel racks...hopefully they will dry a bit before we have to leave."

"In the meantime," Dean was wandering around gathering things up as he seemingly headed to the shower, "wear this." Dean threw a flannel shirt at me and I caught it and held it out in front of me. It had thick black and red blocks that would almost be checkered if it weren't for faint black lines making it a plaid. It was definitely too big for me, but not too-too big, so I looked at Dean and smiled, "thanks."

He half smiled and waved his hand in a dismissing motion before heading to the bathroom for his turn in the shower. Sam had gone and sat on a bed, pulling his laptop out and typing away. I pulled the shirt on and tied the bottom half in a generous knot at my hips. I rolled the sleeves up a couple of times and in a few seconds it almost looked like it fit me. I snuggled the shoulders and collar around my neck and breathed in the scent of it. It actually smelled good. Kinda like Dean's jacket smelled, only cleaner and with a hint of laundry detergent.

When do these guys have time to do laundry?

I smirked to myself at the thought of either of them in a laundromat. It just seemed comical, these big tough aggressive "manly-men" figuring out how much detergent to put in the wash.

I wonder if they use fabric softener...

I giggled at my own pondering and Sam looked up surprised, a faint smile hovering on his face. I smiled shyly back, before turning away and starting to tidy up the beds and the few belongings strewn around the room. 

I glanced up at Sam after a few minutes and he was grinning at his laptop while he typed, read, clicked and typed some more. Maybe I could just take all this one day at a time. I felt so numb, but watching Sam's demeanour change so dramatically over a giggle was worth trying to try. Although I had no idea why, these guys cared...so I guess, in spite of all that was going on, I was going to have to care too. I tucked the covers in on the bed and smoothed the wrinkles out with my hands.

Maybe it's ok to let them be my family...for the next few days anyways...

So I swallowed my grief for the time being and walked over to Sam:

"Can you move man? I need to make this bed and you're sitting on it."