A/N: Another chapter is up! Woo. This chapter gave me a bit of trouble so I hope that it comes out okay. It's been through several different revisions and I'm still not sure if I'm 100% satisfied with it. But, nonetheless, here it is for you lovely readers!

Special thanks to my faithful reviewers: azab, x. lizzy .x, & PlatinumRoseLady.

As well as two new reviewers of the last chapter: supernaturalsammy67 & Bailey-x.

You Don't Belong

Dean, Sam, and Becky eventually made it back to her home located in the middle of town. They were relatively quiet on the way there with only minimal quips on the radio station, this of course, was after Sam hid Dean's tapes of heavy metal underneath his own seat.

The brother's weren't sure what to say or what to offer Becky. The week was just getting worse as it progressed. Not only did she have to worry about something killing the people she was around, but her sister was back in town. Her sister was a rather touché topic to discuss and she was never one to share willingly.

Dean still didn't trust this mysterious sister that she kept quite for days; but he'd never tell Sam that. After all it didn't get him anywhere the last time he expressed his fear for what she was hiding. He had to trust his brother's instincts about this. He was usually right, wasn't he? Either way, he would keep his distance and if needed he would step in. As much as he hated to verbally admit it, Sam was the brain and he was the braun.

Sam was reluctant against going to the house, too. He thought at least they would try to get the sister to trust them so that she could stay safe. But he always knew it was hard to convince someone to trust a couple of strangers. Especially two guys who claim that they're experienced in dealing with the supernatural.

After pulling up to the curb she exited but didn't head to the door immediately. Instead, she stopped at Sam's window and bent down to look at them. With an exasperated sigh, "I'll be out in a few minutes, okay?"

Sam nodded in agreement but before he let her go, he grabbed her hand, "if something happens."

Becky smiled sweetly as her cheeks became flushed; she looked down at his hand clutching her own. Her eyes traveled to the front door and back down to him, "I'll be okay, I'm going to put an end to this now. I'm going to ask her to turn herself in to the police. Maybe, then, we can get back to the investigation when I know she's safe."

Sam released his hold on her arm and watched as she headed up the path. She stepped inside giving the boys one last smile before shutting the door.

Dean studied over his brother's worried expression that was playing across his face. He wasn't that shocked to see that he was concerned about Becky; he was always the sympathetic one.

"Are you worried something is going to happen to her?" Sam didn't look away from the door, so Dean continued, "What happened to giving her sister the benefit of the doubt?"

"No, it's not that. It's just I don't feel right letting her go in by herself. You think her sister will just give up that easily? I don't know if I would."

"Sammy, I think she can take care of her sister's problems by herself, without two guys coming in and poking their noses where they don't belong. If she needs our help pulling her sister's hair I'm sure that she'll call for us."

Sam didn't seem convinced by his brother's words because his eyes remained on the door, "Sammy, yeah, she's smokin' hot in a mini skirt but you don't need to get so attached to her. You don't know anything about her or if any of what she has told us is true. We don't get attached, remember? When this is all over we're leaving; where we're going she can't come with us."

"I wasn't suggesting--," Sam cut himself off as he gazed back at Dean and shook his head, "don't worry, Dean, I'm not getting attached. We're here to help her so, with that, comes a bit of worry with the decisions that she makes. I'm just looking out for her, that's all."

"All I'm saying is that you're watching like a protective boyfriend ready to jump at the first sign of trouble. We've known this girl for, what, a few days and you're already giddy in your pants?"

"Just because I show concern for someone doesn't mean that I want to jump her bones. After all, I wasn't the one checking her out while she changed today."

"So what, you have a bit more self-restraint. Do you want me to give you a gold star?" He rolled his eyes and sighed in exhaustion; he hated fighting with his brother. His brother was too noble for his own good. "I just want you to be careful, that's all."

Sam finally turned his head back to the door, "I know, but you have nothing to worry about." He licked his lips and released a sigh, "I think we can sympathize with what she's going through, and we know what it's like to have an interesting childhood."

"Oh come on it wasn't that bad, other kids have it far worse than we do. You make it sound like we made sweat-shirts for a quarter a day."

Sam cocked an eyebrow up in response, "yeah, right, we had an amazing childhood: bouncing from motel to motel, fighting things that were straight out of Stephen King novels, never knowing where our father was for days on end. Yeah, picture perfect."

Dean nodded in agreement as he looked on to the door, too. He knew his brother was right they had been robbed of their childhood. He mumbled under his breath a simple, "I know."

"At least we had each other," he pointed out, "all she has is a sister who she can't even rely on."

"Sammy?" Dean leaned over and touched his shoulder delicately, "will you hold me and tell me everything will be okay?"

Sam shot him a look that sent his brother sitting back in his seat while he snickered.

A vociferous scream came from inside the hollows of the house that sent them both running towards the front door. Sam was the first to get to the door and he pounded his fists loudly against the wooden door, "Becky!?"

Dean backed up, knowing he'd never get Becky to answer; he was going to have to kick the door in. He yelled cautiously at his brother, "MOVE!" before he shoved his foot forward, barely missing Sam, catching it on the door only causing it to splinter. One more kick was all that it needed before it would swing open.

Becky wasn't anywhere near the door as expected; surprisingly the home was empty. There were no sounds coming from any of the rooms nearby or upstairs; it was eerily quiet. Sam took off through the left side of the house before his brother could even turn around to work out a strategy.

"Sam!" Dean said again in a harsh whisper, "Damn it, Sam!" He turned around and started off into the other side of the house with his weapon drawn. "Let's split up, sure, sounds like a fantastic idea."

Sam crept into the kitchen, checking behind the walls before moving in further. His instincts told him to run, so consequently he left his gun in the back of the Impala. A horrible idea that had him cursing himself for.

He rounded the kitchen table looking frantically around before he spotted Becky lying on the floor - unconscious. She had numerous visible cuts, both deep and shallow, on her body. Her top lip had been split open; she had a gash on her left temple, both of which were ruby red. He ran over and crouched by her side as he whispered her name, "Becky?" He brushed her hair back from her neck as he checked her heart beat. She gasped loudly at the touch of his cold skin against her own. This sent a surprised Sam to fall backwards on to the floor.

Becky rolled over on to her back groaning in pain. With a weak and wavering voice she spoke, "I told you to stay outside, Sam."

"We heard you scream, so we came in, we thought you were in trouble." He scooted closer to her as he helped her sit up, "and obviously we were right. So what happened?"

Becky lifted her fingers up to feel the cut on her forehead; she winced again at the searing pain, "where's Dean?"

"He's looking for you," Sam leaned in closer to get a better look at the wound on her head. His eyes held hers while whispering softly, "I think you're going to be okay. Now, can you tell me what happened?"

Becky shook her head reasoning out what to do next, "I need to find Aaryan before she does something to him. She's lost her mind."

"What happened, Becky?" Sam asked once more.

"I told her that she needed to turn herself in and she went crazy," she shook her head again in disbelief. "She needs help, Sam."

"Let's go find Dean," Sam shifted to his feet. "Do you think you can stand?"

Becky looked up at him before she slipped her small delicate hand into his; he slowly lifted her up and on to her own feet.

The feel of Dean's telephone vibrating in his pocket sent him searching for it. The I.D. on the phone read Bobby before he snapped it open and placed it to his ear, "Bobby, we're kind of busy right now."

"It's Becky, Dean, she's one of 'em. You be careful until I get there, okay? I'm on my way now and I'll be there soon." He hung up the phone, placed it in his pocket, and rounded the next corner into the large study. Books lined the walls from the ceiling to the floor and expanded all sides of the room.

It wasn't until Dean scanned the last corner that he saw a young blonde with green eyes standing in the door way; she was staring straight at him. He kept his gun aimed at her chest, "Aaryan, right? Where's your sister?"

Oddly enough he didn't think she looked at all like her sister. Her features were much softer like that of an Angel. But her long blue dress that was splattered with drops of blood told him otherwise.

"It was so good of you to make it, Dean." She folded her arms across her chest; she loved a good standoff. "Becky didn't tell me you were this cute. Why don't we put the gun down and get to know each other a little better?"

He leveled the gun at her beautiful pale face just as he demanded, "where's my brother?"

"Oh, don't worry, he'll be here soon, she wanted to be alone with him for a few minutes. She's quite smitten with your brother." She leisurely moved closer to Dean; tilting her head to the right as a smile crept along her face. "But I think you're more my taste."

"Stay still or I'll put a bullet in that pretty little face of yours."

"Oh, come on, there's no reason why we can't play nice."

Mockingly he was surprised by her statement as if there was some actual truth to it, "Well, no, I don't guess there's really no reason why we can't." He paused to act like he was thinking, "well, except for the fact that you kill people."

"If I'm not mistaken, don't you do the same?"

"I help people."

"Right, my mistake," the smile grew wider.

"How long have you and Becky been running this scheme?"

"Not too long, a few years time maybe, back when she had a better pseudo name." She rolled her eyes, "trust me it was her idea to come up with the poor little waitress Becky. I'm surprised that her little story has much of an effect on guys anymore; she's been using it for a while." Aaryan walked closer to him, she could see his trigger finger getting tense, "come on, and sit down. If you want, we will wait for them, before we get started."

Dean shot off a bullet which barely grazed her left shoulder, "stay back or the next one won't miss."

"Okay, fine, straight to the point. That's okay, I have never been one for being patient," she continued to advance closer to him before she was stopped abruptly by the bullet that lodged itself in her abdomen. She paused, glanced down at her shirt that was seeping blood, and then looked back up at Dean, "honestly?!"

Aaryan advanced swiftly towards Dean pouncing on him like a cat as she shoved him back into the mahogany desk. His back hit hard enough to send the papers, books, and everything else on the table to the floor. She wrapped her small fingers around his neck increasing her grip on his throat; slowly collapsing the airways off.