And I Hope That You'll Remember Me (SPN Fanfic)

Heaven and Hell

December 8th, 2008
Sioux Falls, South Dakota

The sunlight woke her. She sat up, yawning. Her clock read almost 7. She grabbed her crutches, went over to her dresser, and grabbed a change of clothes. Then she limped over to the bathroom.

Since the door didn't lock, she leaned a wooden chair under the handle, pushing the legs against the sink vanity. That way, no one could walk in. She took a quick shower, dressed in clean clothes, and made her way downstairs.

She frowned. "Did I miss breakfast?"

Sam and Dean were sitting in the kitchen, eating pancakes. "There's plenty left," Dean promised, motioning towards the stove. Alex saw a pan on it, and next to it, a plate full of pancakes. She took three, sitting down next to them.

"Did you make 'em?"

"Yep." Dean sounded proud, and Alex took a bite.

"Wow," she praised, "these are really good."

"I know, right?"

"Where's the demon and the angel?"

"Downstairs." Sam finished his breakfast and tossed his plate in the sink. "And, uh, do the dishes while we're gone."

Alex paused. "I'm not sure how that works. How can I do the dishes if I'll be gone?"

Sam let out a frustrated noise. "You're not coming, Alex."

"Uh, yeah, I am coming. You can't just pull me off this case, Sam. I knew Anna was an angel. That means that all this is somewhere in my head."

"Then you can give us a call. But until that foot heals up, you're benched."

"Dean!" Alex turned towards the oldest hunter. "I can come, right?"

"I don't know, girl. What if we run into Alistair again? You're no use."

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but hesitated. Then she dropped her gaze. "You're right. I'll probably just get you guys killed. Fine." She rolled her eyes. "I'm going back to bed." She grabbed her crutches and went up the stairs as fast as she could.

She collapsed on the bed, anger boiling under her skin. She took deep breaths, knowing there was no reason that she should be mad at them. There was a knock at the door, and Alex pulled herself up into a sitting position. "What?"

The door opened, and Dean stepped in. "Look -"

"It's fine." Alex cut him off. "I get it, okay? You're right. I'll only slow you guys down."

"Yeah, well, sorry about that."

"Whatever. You guys know what you're doing, so you guys call the shots. I can manage on my own." Alex swung her feet over the edge of the bed, awkwardly positioning her broken ankle. "But, uh, call me, okay? If you have any questions, I'll see what I can figure out. And, uh, between you and me, I get kind of lonely here."

"Okay. Thanks." Dean awkwardly left. "We'll be off then."

A few minutes later a car started, and the noise quickly faded off into the distance as they drove away. Alex fell back to sleep.

...

She was being chased. By what she wasn't sure. It was dark and foggy all around, but footsteps echoed, telling her she was in some sort of building. She kept running. Moans sounded behind her, filled with pain and suffering. Shuffling footsteps, and the smell of death. Alex tripped.

She hit the ground, rolling with her shoulder. Then the ground disappeared. She was falling. Her gun was gone. She hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of her. The stench of death permeated everything, and she gagged. The fog cleared, revealing a warehouse full of zombies. Rotting flesh barely hung on yellowed bones. Empty sockets, oozing guts, moans and cries escaping torn throats. Terror shot up Alex's spine, white and hot. She tried to scramble to her feet, but her right ankle held no weight. She was surrounded. She fell back to the ground, curling up.