Okay, by popular demand, I've kept Alyson the same age. Everyone seemed to like the innocence that came with her at that age, so here is the first chapter. I have typed out three more and am working on a fourth, so I just need to proofread them before I submit them.

Enjoy! If this is familiar it is only because I went back and edited some of this. I took out some things that didn't seem to matter and added stuff that did matter.

Chapter One

It all started with a dream. Sam Winchester still wasn't used to having dreams that came true. He hadn't always had dreams like that and he didn't want to have them now, but he did. The dreams were of people in trouble and they almost always had something to do with the demon that had killed his and Dean's mom. The first dream he'd had like that was of his girlfriend dying. Sam had ignored them, thinking they couldn't possibly be true, but he'd learned from his mistake since then because she had died. So this time when he woke up from the dream he shot up from the bed and started getting his things together.

Some blond girl was going to be in trouble; he didn't get much information, only a license plate number.

"Dean!" he exclaimed. "Wake up! We gotta go, now."

Dean looked at him warily. Dean didn't like anything that was happening to Sam. Sam knew Dean worried about the dreams and what they meant even more than he did. Dead didn't want to know what they meant, so he, therefore, didn't like them.

"Come on, get packed," Sam said. "Some girl, she's gonna . . . Well, I don't know, but it can't be good."

Sam had seen a house or the upstairs of one anyway. There had been blood, a bedroom, an older woman – Sam was fairly certain the woman was the girl's mom. He wondered if the girl was going to be the one to hurt the woman. They would have to get there to stop it, if that was the case.

Alyson Daniel's alarm clock woke her up as it did every other day of the week for school. She dreaded going to school because it was so monotonous, but she knew she had to go anyway. If only one could skip school on account of it being boring.

She so wanted to push the snooze button on the alarm clock and lay there for just five more minutes, but that would have been difficult because she had broken the clock a long time ago. She had woken up in a bad mood and had hit the snooze button a little too hard and now the snooze button didn't work anymore.

"Alyson, breakfast is on the table," her mother's voice came from the kitchen, which was downstairs. "You better come eat it before it gets cold."

"Coming," she responded. Her mom didn't call for her again, so Alyson assumed she'd heard.

She got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, which was bigger than the average bathroom. It was bigger than Alyson needed, but it made her mom happy, so whatever. Alyson thought the size of the bathroom was ridiculous herself, but her mom was a high-maintenance woman. Alyson had taken a shower and had washed her hair the night before, so she just rinsed her face with semi-cold water to wake herself up. It helped only a little.

She headed back into her room to get dressed. She went to her walk-in-closet and picked out a black camisole with a white tank-top. The tank-top was slightly shorter than the camisole, so the black showed at the bottom of the tank-top. She put on a pair of blue jeans and flip-flops.

Alyson lived in Southern California. It was spring and it was pretty warm that day. The weather had been strange lately – electric storms and such – but it seemed like it would be an okay day to dress for warm weather.

"Alyson Daniels!"

"I'm coming, Mom," she said. "I need to brush my hair. I'll be down after that."

Alyson looked in the mirror. Her dirty blond hair was messy and she liked it that way, but it did need to be brushed. Her hair was naturally wavy and it came down to the middle of her back and was in layers. She picked up her brush and stroked it through her hair.

When she was satisfied with her reflection she smiled and put down her brush. Now she was ready.

When Alyson got downstairs she saw her mom standing over the stove and smiling. That had never happened before. Her mom detested cooking.

"Should I get a camera or can I get used to this happening?" Alyson teased.

"No, this is a one time deal. You know how I feel about kitchen duty."

Alyson was slightly disappointed, but she didn't blame her mom because she hated cooking also. It was boring to her.

She looked at the table and saw a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon. Alyson wondered if it was edible. It wasn't that her mom was a bad cook; it was just that the woman was out of practice. They had a chef that would come in and cook breakfast and dinner for them, which was okay because the food was amazing.

"How come I get the special breakfast treatment?"

"Well, you are graduating this weekend. I thought I could try to fix breakfast for you as an early reward. It's more special because I made it."

Alyson smiled at the gesture and sat down at the table. She picked up a piece of bacon, took a deep breath, and stuck it in her mouth, and for dramatic affect she left it there without swallowing. She made sure her mother saw that she seemed to be taste testing the food.

Her mom rolled her eyes and reached over to pick a piece of bacon off of her plate to plop it into her own mouth.

"Well, if you're not gonna eat it . . ."

After that, Alyson began gobbling everything down fast so her mom couldn't take it from her. When she finished, Alyson kissed her mother on the cheek and said good-bye. At the front door, she picked up her book bag and purse as she went out. She pulled her car keys from her purse and went to unlock the car, a silver Honda Civic that her mom had bought her for her when she'd turned seventeen.

Alyson liked classic cars and had wanted something that was a little tougher, but her mother had told her that a Honda Civic was more sensible for a girl.

Once the door was open, Alyson tossed her book bag into the passenger seat and she turned the car on. The radio came on automatically because she had left it on the last time she'd been in it, and a soft rock song blasted through the speakers. She immediately reached for the dial to turn the volume down – she really needed to remember to turn the radio off before she got out of the car.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Dean asked as he pulled into a school parking lot.

He didn't know why Sam wanted to meet this girl outside of her school, but they were there anyway. Sam said something about getting a read on her mental state. Because Sam had had a dream about this girl, they automatically knew that she was somehow connected to the demon that had killed their mother. Dean didn't know if that meant she was going to be hurt by the demon or if she would end up working for the demon or if she just had an ability or something. He hoped that wasn't the case because this girl – Alyson Daniels, if the research they'd done meant anything – was younger than Sam, which would mean that more than one generation of kids had powers that were connected to the demon.

"This is the school that she would go to if her address is right," Sam answered. "Look for the car."

The brothers looked for a silver Honda Civic that had the license plate that Sam had seen in his dream or vision or whatever it was. When they found the car, they debated on whether they should just follow her home or get to know her now.

"I want to talk to her," Sam said. "We need to find a way to stall her, keep her from going home right away."

Dean grinned at his brother. "I have just the thing."

The school day had passed by very slowly, but Alyson had made it through her last class of the day. She was supposed to go out to dinner with some of her friends later that night and she needed to get home now and take a shower. She was planning on straightening her hair and she still hadn't picked out an outfit.

She should've been going to her self-defense class, but she figured that she could skip one practice – this dinner was more important. She and her friends were going to celebrate their last week of their senior year by eating dinner and then scarfing down more dessert than the human body should have.

Alyson was in the middle of a crowd of students who were making their way to their lockers. Her locker was somewhere in the middle of this massive din, and she made it there slowly. She tried her combination and got frustrated when the locker wouldn't open. She had had trouble with this locker from the beginning of the year, but she liked the location so she had put up with the occasional problem.

You had to take the good with the bad, she always thought.

"Is that thing bothering you again?" a voice came from off to the side.

Alyson looked around because she knew that voice. Layla Stevens, her best friend, was standing there beside her, smirking with amusement.

"Yes," Alyson answered her.

"It's your own fault. You should have gotten a new one at the beginning of the year."

"Yeah, yeah." She tried her combination but still got zero joy. She kicked it and it opened. "Are you still going to the dinner tonight?"

"If I can find something to wear."

"Okay." That would be easy. Layla had even more clothes than Alyson did.

Alyson grabbed her backpack from the inside of the locker and slammed the door shut.

"You know, maybe if you treated your locker better, it would do what you wanted."

"Layla, sweetie, the locker is an inanimate object. It doesn't care how it's being treated." Layla looked like she was going to say something smart but then chose not to. "Anyway, it opens after I kick it so maybe it likes being mistreated. It's masochistic."

Layla grinned and rolled her eyes.

As they began walking toward the exit of the school Layla asked if she could get a ride home from Alyson. Even though it was out of her way, Alyson said yes. She wasn't going to make Layla walk home when it might rain.

They walked in comfortable silence until they reached the front of the school and Layla brought up some random question she'd had on her pre-calculus exam.

In essence, Layla said that since she'd thought it was easy, she'd probably been doing the problem wrong.

Alyson smiled and shook her head. This was Layla – she was cynical all the time, but Alyson loved that about her.

"Anyway," Layla started, this time a little more cheerful, "Are you picking me up tonight or am I supposed to find my own way?"

"I'll pick you up. I mean, unless you wanna walk there."

"No, I'd rather not."

Alyson and Layla walked out of the school and into the parking lot. It wasn't raining yet, but the sky held signs that there might be showers on the way.

When they got to Alyson's car, Alyson noticed that her left front tire was flat. She dropped her bag on the ground in frustration and felt like kicking her tire, but thought better of it when she remembered she only had on flip-flops.

"We'll need to call someone," she said. "I have no idea how to change a tire. Maybe you should catch a ride with someone else."

"I'm not leaving you here alone," Layla said.

There were a bunch of students still there, so it wasn't like Alyson would be left alone. She probably wouldn't have wanted to leave Layla alone either, however, if the situation had been reversed.


Alyson took her cell phone out of her pocket and would have dialed the number for roadside assistance if a voice hadn't interrupted her train of thought.

"Do you girls need help?"

Alyson looked to where the voice came from and saw two guys who were both freakishly tall compared to her measly 5'3". The one who had spoken had light brown hair that was kind of spiky; he was slightly shorter than the other one, whose hair was darker and longer.

"Depends," Layla said. "How fast can you change a tire?"

"Probably faster than either of us," Alyson said, leaning toward her friend, trying to get her attention so Layla would know not to be so tough with these two guys who might be able to help them out of this sticky situation.

"I can do it. Ten minutes, tops," the same guy spoke. "Do you have a spare?"

"Of course. It's in the trunk."

Alyson dug her keys out of her purse and went to the trunk of her car to open it. All the while, she was thinking that her tire shouldn't have been flat. Her mom had just paid to get four new ones put on. Unless the merchandise had been faulty, her tire should have been fine. Or maybe she'd run over something on the way to school that morning – she didn't know.

"What are you guys doing here anyway?" Layla asked. "I mean, not that you don't have a right to be here because it's a free country and you do, but you don't look like teachers and you don't look like students either."

The other guys finally spoke. "We're just passing through. We needed to check the map, so we parked here."

"Do you have names?" It was a stupid question, but it was also a valid one. They'd been talking for over a minute and no one had offered up their name.

"I'm Sam," the one with longer, darker hair said. "This is my brother Dean." He nodded toward Dean.

"What about you girls? Are you going to tell us what to call you?" Dean asked.

Layla spoke before Alyson could. "I'm Layla. She's Alyson. It's nice of you to do this for us." She looked at Sam and Dean. "You two aren't weirdo perverts, are you?"

"Layla!" Alyson exclaimed. To say that Layla didn't mince words would have been the absolute truth.

"Well, I'm not," Sam said, grinning. "But Dean here definitely is."

Dean didn't say anything to that. It didn't even look like it had bothered him much, which probably meant that it was true and he didn't care what his brother thought.

Dean got the tire out of the trunk along with a jack he was going to need.

"So, this seems like a pretty nice place," Sam said.

"Not if you live here," Layla said.

"Yeah. Things get dull after a while," Alyson agreed, though her tone wasn't as cynical or clipped as Layla's had been.

"Really? Seems like a pretty decent place to grow up."

"Yeah," Dean spoke up. "Temperature's nice and all that stuff – you're free to roam around."

"Actually," Alyson said, "the weather has been kind of strange lately with all the temperature fluctuations and storms. It's not normal."

Alyson noticed Sam and Dean look at each other. She wondered what the significance of that was.

"You don't strike me as the weather watching type," Dean said.

"You've known me for less than two minutes. How could you possibly know what I'm like?" She wasn't being snippy. She was just asking a question, and was maybe even flirting a little.

"Well, she's got you there, Dean," Sam said and smiled.

Dean continued to work on the car and Alyson didn't really pay attention to what he was doing. He could've been doing it completely wrong and she wouldn't have known.

"This tire looks brand new," Dean remarked. "You should complain to the company you got it from."

Ha, Alyson thought. She'd been right. She shouldn't have been having problems with the tires.

Sam started talking to both Layla and Alyson Somehow they got to talking about school or what was left of it anyway.

"So you're graduating this weekend?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Alyson answered. "It should be fun. Finally get out of high school."

"You don't like this school?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's not exactly this school as much as it's any school. All school is good for is giving you a headache and making you get up at the crack of why the heck am I awake."

Dean laughed as he stood up and put the jack back in the trunk of the car. "You know, I had the same attitude when I was growing up."

"You still have that attitude," Sam said.

"Yeah, well, whatever. School sucked." Dean looked at the two girls. "Knowledge Boy here loved school."

"I'm not saying I hate it," Alyson said. "I like learning, just not the things school wants to teach me. It's boring and you're never gonna need it in life unless you become a scientist or something like that. Normal, every day jobs don't require you to know about history or algebra and trigonometry."

"Okay, we get it," Layla interrupted her. "Death to all boring classes. But I need to get home, so can you stop with the ranting?"

Alyson grinned apologetically in Sam's and Dean's direction. She always got caught up in ranting when she was passionate about something.

"Sorry. I'm a yammerer. I'd still be yammering if she hadn't stopped me."

"Anyway," Layla said, grabbing Alyson's arm. "Thank you guys."

"Hey, no problem. We're all about the good deeds," Dean replied.

"Do you think it's okay for you to drive home?" Sam asked. "If you just got new tires put on and one of them already went flat . . ."

"We could follow you," Dean suggested. "Make sure you both get home okay."

"I don't know," Alyson said hesitantly. "I don't really have far to go. Is that really necessary?"

"We just wanna make sure you get there alright," Sam said. "There are some people who would take advantage of a situation like this. Not help you, you know?"

Something about the way he said that made Alyson agree to let them follow behind her car. The two guys headed toward a car that Alyson would've loved to have, but her mom would have freaked out if she'd seen Alyson driving it. A black '67 Impala.

"That's your car?" she asked.

"Yep," Dean answered proudly.

"It's hot," both girls commented.

"And yet you're driving a Civic?"

"My mom's fault. She said it's a more sensible car for a girl."

She got her keys out of the trunk keyhole and got into the car.

"So she seems sane to me," Dean said. "You?"

"Normal girl," Sam said. "Normal behavior. Doesn't seem evil or suspicious."

Dean and Sam both knew that just because the girl looked normal didn't mean she was normal. Sam looked completely normal, hiding the fact that he was some kind of precog.

By the time Alyson dropped Layla off, it was sprinkling and about a minute after that it started pouring. It was like a waterfall from the sky. They pulled up to a two story house that definitely belonged in the rich part of the neighborhood. Apparently her parents were loaded.

Dean parked the Impala behind Alyson's Civic and watched as the teen got out of her car and walked toward theirs. It was still raining hard, but she seemed to want to talk to them for a second. Dean rolled the window down and looked at her.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to say thank you."

"For changing your tire or for following you home?" Dean asked.

She grinned. "Both, actually." She looked up at the sky before looking back at them. "Anyway, I'm getting soaked, so I'm gonna go."

She turned to walk away, but Sam's voice stopped her. She turned back around

"Do you think I could use your bathroom?"

"Oh, um . . . I don't know. I mean, I don't mind, but my mom is in there and . . ." She paused and in that moment, Dean could tell she really didn't care what her mom would think about them coming in. "Yeah, I guess."

Sam smiled at her and opened the car door to get out. Dean followed suit and Alyson led them to the front door. She was moving quickly – almost running – but the two guys had no problem keeping up because of their long legs.

Once at the door, she put the key in and unlocked it. They walked into the house and Dean watched Alyson put her book bag on the floor.

The house was almost eerily silent, Alyson noticed as she began looking for her mom. No one was in the living room, and there was no sound coming from the kitchen.

"Mom?" she called and didn't get an answer. It didn't really bother her because she knew that if her mother was upstairs, she probably hadn't heard Alyson calling for her.

She looked at Sam. "Come on, I'll show you where the bathroom is."

Alyson began going upstairs and sensed that Sam had followed her.

"Mom? You up here?" She really wanted her mom to meet the two guys who had basically saved her life – or at least had saved her from having to call a tow truck.

They got to the top of the stairs and she pointed the way to the bathroom. The guest bathroom was straight down the hall.

Sam started walking toward the bathroom, so she went to her mom's room. The door was closed, but she went in anyway. She was hoping that maybe her mom was just napping, but that wasn't the case.

What she saw made her want to run back downstairs and out the front door screaming her head off. Her mom was on the floor in a puddle of blood that was coming from her neck.

There were so many thoughts running through her mind, but for the life of her she couldn't remember any of them. She felt like she couldn't breathe. She knew that if she didn't sit down soon she would probably collapse.

Someone had killed her mother. Who would've wanted to do that? Her mother had never hurt anyone, had tried her best never to offend anyone, so who would've done something like this?

Alyson heard a creak come from behind her, so she turned around. A man with yellow eyes was standing there. She watched as the bedroom door clicked shut.

"I've been waiting for you," the yellow-eyed man said.

She didn't know how she found the power to speak, but she did when she asked, "Why?"

"I came here to kill you."

"You . . ." Why would anyone want to kill her? Like her mother, Alyson had never done anything to anyone that was worth killing over.

"Who are you?" she asked. "What are you?"

Alyson didn't get an answer. Instead she got thrown across the room by an invisible force. Her back was pressed against the wall and she was slowly rising in the air. She heard someone screaming her name, but it was as if it were from a distance. There was a gunshot, and then she was falling. The shock of hitting the floor made her more alert.

When she looked around, the yellow-eyed man wasn't there. She didn't know how he had disappeared; she was just thankful he had. She tried to stand up, but she fell to her knees and didn't try again. She tried to focus on her breathing because she was close to hyperventilating.

"Are you hurt?"

She was aware of the hand on her shoulder, and she heard Dean ask the question, but didn't answer because she couldn't find the strength to.