Second Chance

Chapter One: Keep Holding On

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. It is the owner of Eric Kripke, who should be happy that he as managed to drive all of us rabid fans insane with this major hiatus…him and the CW.

Hello! To my reviewers who followed my previous story, A Different Life! This time around, I'm going to try to title each chapter after a song that fit's the feel of the plot. So, without further ado, let the fic begin!!


Sam's POV


It had been a few months since my life had spun out of control with Dean's return. Dean hadn't changed much from his pre-hell days, but you could tell that there was a pain there that he didn't want to talk about. After getting off to a rocky start with my girlfriend, Alayna, the two seemed to get along.

On most days, anyway. Today just wasn't one of those days.

"Son of a bitch, Sammy! Can I walk in on anything other than you making out with Alayna?"

Alayna and I broke apart from each other once as Dean barged into our room. Ever since Dean had came back from hell, he'd been making sure he barged in on us; we'd been getting jointed rooms on our hunts, that way Dean wouldn't complain and Alayna and I could be together.

I looked up at my brother in annoyance. "Have you ever head of knocking, Dean?"

"Have you ever heard of locking the door?" Dean retorted.

"We were getting to that," Alayna muttered under her breath.

Dean shuddered. "Bad visual image," he said shaking his head.

Alayna seemed to ignore him and rolled her eyes. "Was there an actual reason why you decided to randomly walk into my room?"

"Oh…yeah," Dean said, shaking his head. "Ellen just called, said she had us a case."

"Great," I said. "Another no-break case."

"Oh, I'm sorry Loverboy," Dean said sarcastically. "We're not all Brady Bunch happy here."

"I'm not saying I am," I said, getting off the bed we'd been sitting on. "It's just…Dean, since you've gotten back it's been case after case. You've been hurt already once because of it and you jumped into a hunt the next day not caring. Don't you think you should take a break before something drastic happens?"

"Nope," Dean said.


"Sam, drop it," Dean said. "You're not going to win."

"This case," Alayna finally said, getting a say in the subject. I threw my hands in the air in defeat. "What's it about?"

"A spirit," Dean said. "That's all Ellen said."

"Another one?" I said. "We just finished a case like this!"

"Yeah…but this one is in Texas."

"Great," Alayna said sarcastically. "That's just…five states over. We should get there by this time tomorrow."

"That's if you two decide to stop kissing long enough to get into the car," Dean said.

I glared at Dean and Alayna crossed her arms, giving him a similar look. Dean smirked and turned to walk out of the room. Then he turned and looked around. "You two lovebirds coming or not?"

"Only if you promise to never call us that again," I muttered, looking at Alayna. She nodded her head in agreement.

"Fine, whatever…killjoy," he mumbled before walking out the door.

I sighed in aggravation as my brother finally walked out the door. I walked over, shutting the door again before turning back to Alayna.

"Guess we should go," I said softly. I was still aggravated by Dean's sudden hunting agenda. I knew he was in hell for four months and I know he'd missed our 'job,' but everybody needed to rest, including him.

"Hey," she said, getting up and walking to me. "You aren't going to let this beat you up, are you?"

"What?" I asked.

"Dean's obsession with the hunt." I smiled; she knew me too well.

"No," I said. "But I wish he would at least give himself a break. He's been non-stop for the past month.

Dean had been out of hell for a month and a half and had done almost more hunts than Alayna and I had completed in the four months he'd been gone. Personally, I was worried, and Alayna could tell.

"Hopefully he'll snap out of this soon," Alayna said softly.

I smiled and moved closer to her, wrapping my arms around her. She wrapped her own arms around me and I sighed into her hair. Since Dean had returned, we'd barely spent time together except at night, and sometimes we didn't even have that. Each time we managed to get alone, Dean barged in or attempted to barge in, beating on the door until we answered. I loved Dean as much as a younger brother could, but I loved Alayna as well and he couldn't handle that.

Our final alone time was interrupted by Dean outside in the Impala, beeping the horn and revving the engine. I felt Alayna shake her head against my chest as we broke apart.

"We'd better go before he drives the Impala through the room," Alayna said.

"Guess we really should go, I suppose," I said, grabbing my bag from the table.

"Guess so," she said, also grabbing her bag. "But if I have to listen to the classics of mullet rock and nothing else, I'm going to go insane."

I smirked and pulled out my old iPod from the pocket of my jacket. "I got us covered."

Alayna grinned and sighed in relief. "A mixture of music…have you ever thought about education Dean in the other aspects of music?"

I nodded. "I tried," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "He won't give the other stuff a chance."

Alayna shook her head at my brother's lack on musical appreciation as she opened the door. I followed her out, turned off the light and looking around one final time before shutting the door.


One week later-Alayna's POV


"The only way we're going to find this damn thing is if all three of us split up," Dean was saying. I was subconsciously paying attention as I flashed my light down the old corridors of the abandoned hospital we were in. The spirit had gave us a run for our money, leading us to the shut down hospital he'd died in 20 years previously.

"Dean, have you seen the size of this place?" I said, coming back to the conversation at hand. "It's a hospital. What's going to happen if we need help?"

"We all have cell phones, don't we?" he said with an attitude.

I glared and pulled mine out. "Yeah, with no service," I snarled, flipping in opened and shoving it in his face. He pushed it away and glared.

"We'll be fine," he said. "Right, Sammy?"

I looked at Sam, who had kept silent since Dean and I began arguing. He looked at me apologetically. "If we're going to get this job done, Alayna, it's our best chance."

Convinced everybody was against my better judgment, I snapped, "Fine." I hoisted my bag farther up my shoulder and gripped my flashlight tighter. "I'll take the ground and first floors, you can argue over the others."

"Be careful!" Sam called as I walked off. I waved my hand in the air, still angry as I heard the two brothers begin to fight again. Since we were already on the first floor, I continued my search for the only ties the old spirit had to the hospital-an old journal the man had kept during his long stay. Slowly I went to room to room, my gun full of rock salt in my hand and my .45 on my holster. I checked all the first floor rooms and found nothing, a and then proceeded down the stairs to the ground floor. I entered the stairwell and was spooked by a familiar voice.

"Any luck?"

"Damn it, Sam," I said lowering my gun. "I could have shot you!"

"But you didn't," he said, descending from the second floor.

"Find anything?" I asked as we walked down to the ground floor.

"Nothing," Sam said, "I'm taking you had no luck either?"

"This spirit is crazy," I muttered. "Where's Dean?"

"Searching floors three and four," Sam said. "He wouldn't let me check more than one floor for some reason."

"Because he's trying to out do me," I said, opening the door to the ground floor, putting my gun back in front of me. Sam opened the door wider and checked out the opposite side. Slowly we walked down the hall, checking each room. We reached the end of each hall and looked back at each other.

"Find anything?" I called. Sam shook his head.

"Nothing," he said.

I sighed. "Let's find Dean," I said. "See if he's found anything."

Sam nodded and we started walked towards each other when I noticed a shape forming behind Sam. The shape slowly began to shape into the form of the vengeful spirit, a scalpel in hand.

"Sam!" I called. He turned, but it was too late, the spirit lunged and knocked him to the ground. Sam fell, not moving. I ran forward and shot a round of rock salt at the spirit, but it disappeared as the salt ricocheted off the wall. I felt a surge of cold air around me and I turned at the wrong possible time. The spirit lunged at me with the scalpel, cutting a long gash into my side. I gasped in pain and managed to shoot at the spirit again. Ignoring the pain, I turned to Sam and bent down, shaking him. His eyes snapped open and he jumped up looking around, giving me time to button my jacket to hide my injury.

"What happened?" he said.

"That damn spirit," I said. "Dean must be close to finding it."

"Let's go," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to the door. I gritted my teeth as the pain increased. We were at the door when the spirit returned. It lunged for me again, but Sam pushed me out of the way, rock salt gun at hand. He shot, but not before the scalpel made contact with his torso. He dropped the gun and ignoring my protesting mind, bent down and picked it up. However, before I could shoot, the spirit let out an ear shattering scream and busted into flames.

Sam and I looked at each other, both gasping for breath. I forgot my own injury as I was the blood begin to seep through Sam's shirt. "Damn it, Sam…I'm sorry," I whispered.

He shook his head and pressed her jacket to his chest. "It's not your fault," he said. "let's just get out of here."

I nodded, and putting my arm around him, reentered the stairwell. I looked up, seeing a light bouncing a few stories up. "Dean!" I called. "Get down here!"

I heard footsteps running down the stairs and Sam looked at me. "Are you okay?" he said.

"I'm fine," I lied as we made it to the first floor, Dean skidding to a stop as he came down the second floor.

"Sammy?" he said, running down the last flight. "What's wrong?"

Sam gasped as he pulled his jacket back from his chest, showing Dean the cut. Dean pulled at the collar of Sam's shirt and I saw the long gash that ran diagonally down his upper torso.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered. He allowed Sam to reapply pressure as he moved to Sam's other side. "Let's go get you patched up."

We managed to get out of the abandoned hospital and back to the Impala. Dean instructed Sam to lay in the back and apply pressure to the gash, Sam complaining how it was really serious.

"I'll be the judge of that," Dean had said before opening the back door of the old Chevy and pointing to the seat. Sam glared and got in, leaving me to sit in front with Dean, trying to hide my own pain by acting to hug myself. We got back to our motel, where we decided Dean would patch Sam up. I followed them into their room (which was jointed to mine as always) as Dean got the med kit from the car. I tried to help as much as I could, while the pain in my side continued to get worse.

I watched from a distance as Dean began to clean and sew up the gash. My guilt was consuming me, knowing it was my fault that this happened.

"I'm sorry, Sam," I said again, tears forming in my eyes from the guilt and pain. "This is my fault."

Sam shook his head and flinched as Dean continued to sew him up. "It's no one's fault, Alayna. It was a hunt…this stuff happens."

I shook my head, wiping my eyes. "If I hadn't been foolish to think I could shoot the damn thing, it would have been dead sooner and you wouldn't be going through this." I turned from him momentarily, opening my jacket and seeing the blood seep through my shirt even more. I closed my jacket and turned back to Sam and Dean, trying to shake the unconsciousness from my mind.


Sam's POV


I sighed at Alayna's silly guilt. "You did what any of us would have done," I said, "no one blames you."

"Hold still," Dean said, finished off the last stitch. He cut the strong string-like substance, and handed me a large bandage for the deep area of the cut.

"Still," she said, turning from me again. Why did she keep doing that? "I'm just a failure at hunting…I'm either getting taken hostage or you're getting hurt. Typical me."

I finished putting the bandage and looked back up at Alayna. She was being hard on herself, letting her guilt feed her assumptions. I was getting ready to tell her otherwise, that she wasn't a failure when I noticed her sway and slightly stagger. "Alayna?" I asked in concern; she'd never done that before.

I knew something was wrong when she moved slowly to grip the end of the chair at the table. "I'm…just…failure at…job," she rasped out.

I looked at Dean in concern, who shared the same look I had. I got up and walked quickly to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Alayna?" I said again. She didn't respond and my concerned heightened as I saw her taking in deep breaths. "Alayna! What's wrong?"

"I'm…fine…" she whispered before her eyes rolled back into her head and she went limp. I managed to catch her before she fell, and gently lowered her to the floor. Dean jumped up from the bed and rushed over to me, kneeling down.

"Alayna!" I called, but I got no response.

"What's wrong with her?" Dean asked, checking her forehead. "Damn, Sam, she's burning up! What in the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," I said shakily. She was too pale for my liking as I tried to shake her awake. "Alayna!" I called once more, knowing it was no use.

Dean checked her pulse and I lifted her up a little, grabbing her waist. However as I did, I felt something wet come in contact with my hand. I looked down, my palm and fingers red. I looked down at her jacket, seeing the substance. I opened her jacket and gasped. It was blood.

"Dean," I said, loosing all my nerve. He looked at me as I pulled back her shirt, seeing the deep long gash that ran up her side. "She's hurt…bad."

"Son of a bitch," Dean swore under his breath. "I can't fix this, Sam…we've got to get her to a hospital, fast. Her pulse is too weak as it is, and that fever won't help matters much either."

I nodded numbly as Dean stood up, grabbing the keys and going to get the Impala ready. Gently and quickly as I could, I picked her up in my arms, ignoring the tears that ran down my face.

"Hold on Alayna," I whispered. "Please…hold on for me."


Well, if that wasn't a way to start off a fic, I don't know what is! If anybody is confused as to who Alayna is and what's going on, I advise you to read the prequel to this, A Different Life. It's the first in this series (if you can call two stories a series) and it will clear things up…I hope. As always, review and let me know what you think!

Title Song: Keep Holding On by Avril Lavigne (No, I do not own it.)