The Huntress ➳Allison Argent

Nightmares

Dean watches as Allison scurries out of their shared motel room and then comes to a sudden halt, blinking rapidly against the change of light as she then shields her eyes. He knows all too well about adjusting back to the brightness of a sunny day after years in Hell, but he also knows it's worse for her since she was down there for a hell of a lot longer than he was. Surprisingly, however, the girl takes seconds to adjust before moving on and scanning the parking lot while shielding her eyes with one hand, and he eventually takes pity on her and waves his arm outside the driver side window of his Impala.

Allison looks a little flustered as she nears the car and Dean is all for teasing her about the blush surprisingly staining her cheeks, but he forgets all about it the second her steps falter and she stares appreciatively at his car. "Gorgeous, ain't she?" He gloats instead.

"S'pretty."

Dean's smile instantly falls and he glowers at her. "What? No. Baby's gorgeous, sexy even! Pretty makes her sound delicate and Baby is anything but."

"It's a car," Allison then deadpans.

"How dare you!" He mock gasps and she faintly grins at his reaction. "Get in the damn car, Argent. I ain't tellin' you again."

She giggles as she climbs into the back seat, and Dean feels himself warm at the sound. Normally he'd be smug at making the pretty girl smile- because lets face it, Allison is obviously a very pretty girl- but this is different. Allison evokes a very different set of emotions- one that he soon relates to the way he feels about Charlie, just not as strong- and Dean feels proud for making her laugh. It's a major difference from when she had first woken up the previous day and he is actually glad to have been the one to cause it.

Sam soon joins them after putting away his own bag in the trunk of the car and then the three of them are on the road. Non-stop, the trip from Indiana to Kansas is a little over eleven hours, but given that they are going to making several pit stops, they estimate it'll take up close to fifteen.

Breakfast is an on-the-go meal, and Allison is treated to breakfast burritos and orange juice since she declines the coffee. Dean makes plans to stop at a vintage thrift shop because even though the clothing is used, the clothing is usually durable and cheap. And while Allison has no problem with that since she's not paying for it, Sam also assures her they'll be stopping by a Wal-Mart or any other shopping center so she can pick up some hygiene products and underclothing.

Allison is most definitely okay with whatever their plans are, and she soon finds herself drifting off to sleep thanks to the motion of the car and the classic rock music that Dean is playing.

xXx

"Allisooonnnnn!"

She's confused. It's not supposed to end like this.

The fight's come to a stand-still and there's a burning pain right beneath her breast bone. The figure before her stands proudly with a samurai sword- a figure clad from head to toe in black with an odd black mask obscuring it's face- before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke.

A bow drops from her hand and she stumbles back in shock before her legs give out, but someone's immediately at her back and lowering her the rest of the way to the ground, cradling her in their lap."Did you find her? Is she okay? Is Lydia safe?" She pants.

"Yeah. She's okay." A man- a boy, really- stares down at her while brushing her hair from her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Her hand is laying over her wound when the boy grasps it. He stares down in concentration, gripping tighter before a brief flash of panic and disbelief takes over his features. "I- I can't," he says and readjusts his grip again. "I can't take your pain."