Void ~*~ Kevin Tran

22- Dead or Alive

based off remember the titans
8.16

~*~

     Annabelle stood at the sink of her room in the bunker. She hadn't really told anyone she was back, but she was now. She took too long of a time off to be crazy anymore, so now she was resting in the bunker until Sam and Dean waltzed into her room. 

     She quickly took a drink of water, then paused as the taste was different. She spit it back in the glass, eyes widening as the red color. She got scared for a moment, then turned to the sink and spit out more blood. She breathed heavily, staring at the now red stained sink. 

     She poured the water into it, turning the faucet on. She heard the door to the bunker open, and she turned around quickly. She knew Sam and Dean would hear the water and greet her with these happy smiles that she was back. She didn't want them to do that at all. 

     So, as fast as possible, Annabelle began cleaning the sink out. As if they were on time, Sam and Dean walked into the room behind her. Annabelle knew they were only at the doorway, but it felt as if they were breathing down her neck. 

     "Hey, Annabelle," Sam stated nervously. She turned around quickly, not daring to flash a smile. 

     "Hi, guys," she said with a curt nod. 

     "What's up with you?" Dean asked setting his gun on the table. 

     "Nothing, why?" Annabelle asked clapping her hands together. She breathed in again, Dean nodding slightly. 

     "Heard from Kevin?" he asked walking to the other counter. 

     "Well, yeah. He's kind of my boyfriend," Annabelle muttered under her breath. "Nothing about the trials if that's what you're talking about." 

     "What's it been, like, three weeks? What's taking that little brainiac so long? It's a book. Read it," Dean said sitting down and throwing his arms in the air. 

     "Just a guess, but translating an ancient language with zero help might be more difficult than we think," Annabelle said defending Kevin's case. 

     "So, no word from Cas, Kevin's taking his sweet little time, and you're acting cagey," Dean said leaning forward. "We need a lead before I start climbing these walls." 

     "Cagey? What's that supposed to mean?" Annabelle asked furrowing her eyebrows and crossing her arms. Dean cleared his throat, sipping on the water he just poured for himself. 

    "Nothing," Dean mumbled. 

     "Well, um... " Sam stuttered, handing a newspaper to Annabelle, "Here's some zombies." Annabelle takes it quickly, reading over it. "Guy gets hit by a car; left for dead overnight, guts spilled out all over the road, then gets up and walks away from it." Annabelle thought for a minute it could be something from her past life. But that wasn't possible.

     "Nothing about brain munching?" Annabelle asked furrowing her eyebrows. 

     "Remember Bobby's wife? She didn't... munch on any brains," Sam said slowly. 

     "Well, who's the witness?" Dean asked joining in as Annabelle handed him the newspaper. 

     "Montana state trooper, 20-year vet. Checked his pulse, saw his insides spilled out all over the place, pronounced him dead with a capital 'D'." Annabelle and Dean exchanged the same glance. The one that screamed, 'Let's get to work'. 

          *****

     Annabelle sat in the back seat of the Impala as she waited for Sam and Dean to come back outside. She was too tired from the trials taking a toll on her body. Yet, she felt like it was nothing. Seeing as she is a Norse goddess, she was doing better than Sam would've been doing. 

     She felt like there was more to her, though. She felt like she was more than a goddess. She just had this strange feeling that her real father was some powerful being that gave her powers that no one, not even her, should ever have. 

     "Annabelle? Hello? You still there?" Sam asked over the phone. She sat up, grabbing the phone. 

     "Yeah, I'm here. What's going on?" she asked looking at the lure again. 

     "You should probably get in here. We're in the morgue. It's weird," Sam said with a sigh. 

     "Alright," Annabelle muttered. She climbed out of the Impala, walking into the hospital. She cloaked herself from the world as she walked back into the morgue, making herself known to Sam, Dean, and the dead guy who wasn't so dead. "Hey, he's not dead. That's actually kind of good." 

     "He just said that all he does is die. It's not that good. It means he's definitely something not good," Dean said looking back at her. 

     "All you do is die? What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked ignoring the two. 

     "Once a day, for as long as I can remember. After a few hours, I'm back," he said turning to face them. 

     "What are you, like a real-life Kenny?" Dean asked, his gun still out and ready. 

     "Who?" the man asked confused. Annabelle rolled her eyes at Dean's reference, finding it a bad time for his stunts. "No, my name is Shane." 

     "All right, well, listen, Shane. We're not gonna find out what the hell you are in here, so you're gonna come with us, okay? We're gonna run a few tests, make sure everything's kosher.

     "Tests?" 

          *****

     Annabelle slid the dagger across Shane's skin as he let out a painful groan. He ignored his complaining as she started cleaning off the dagger and set it by the sink. She glanced behind her to see Sam handing Shane some Holy Water to test if he was a demon. 

     "All right, so, uh, how long has this dying thing been going on?" Dean asked. 

     "As long as I can remember, but my memory only goes back a few years," Shane said. The three hunters exchanged a look of disappointment. 

     "Wait, so now you have amnesia? How do you know your name?" Dean asked throwing his hands in the air. 

     "My real name isn't Shane. It was given to me because... I don't know, people had to call me something," Shane said as he kept remembering things. 

     "Okay. So, then, what happened to you?" Annabelle asked crossing her arms. 

     "Got pulled off a mountain in Europe. They said that I got caught in an avalanche. I don't remember anything from before the rescue," Shane explained to them. "When I realized my condition, I knew I couldn't be around other people, so I built a little cabin, learned to hunt, kept to myself. Seemed easiest that way. Then a couple pot growers grew nervous with me being so near their crop. Shot me – twice. I figured it was time to move on." 

     "Right into the grille of that pickup," Dean finished for everyone. 

     "You think maybe I could clean up?" Shane asked after a few moments of silence. 

     "Yeah, man. Knock yourself out," Dean said with a sigh. Shane went into the bathroom, Dean and Annabelle stepping up next to Sam. "Well, he's definitely something."

     "Yeah, but maybe he's not the monster," Annabelle said tilting her head at the door. "Maybe he's the victim."

     "You thinking curse?" Dean asked looking at Sam. 

     "Could be looking for a witch, yeah," Sam stated with a slight nod. "You know what? He's parked here. He's safe. Maybe we should just get another room until we can figure this out." 

     "All right, but you're the one going full-cavity for the hex bag," Dean said. He left the room, Annabelle looking up at Sam. 

     "Don't even think about passing it to me," she said. Sam sighed and Annabelle followed Dean out of the room.