Beginning Again

Into a Tomorrow

Chapter 10/Into a Tomorrow
"Isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"
~L.M. Montgomery

The silence seemed too loud while a pin drop would be deafening in this space as it held that feeling of being frozen in time. Where was this place? Was there even one at all? Her eyelids felt heavy, her body was sluggish, and straining to hear any source of sound was beyond useless. Color breached the void of her vision when she finally came to; a dull beige of the ceiling. Slowly she turned her head to the right to face along the bland colored walls was an old, three drawer, wooden dresser siting against it holding up various photo frames filled with unknown places inside them. Her eyes became blurry and would only seem to focus every couple of blinks. Scanning around the rest of the room from where she was supposedly laying-now sitting up-she noticed the cluttering of inspirational quotes, sayings, and other photo frames filled with foreign memories of nostalgia along the mossy, left side wall. She scooted towards that side of the bed covered in rustic colored sheets and an oak bedframe with matching head and footboard spread out underneath her. It took a couple seconds later until her warning bells started blaring in her head and her vision finally cleared. She had to get out, but not without some sort of protection against what's just beyond that wooden door directly in front of her first. Quickly, she made a checklist of her physical appearance of what could be seen, she made sure that everything on her person was perfectly intact; bright red dress, Leo zodiac sign necklace, and her black, three inch heels.

Flinging her feet off the side of the mattress as her heels made a clacking sound from the contact of the forest green tile floor, she hurriedly began scouting for any possible object that could be and will be used as a weapon. The first place she checked was the little bedside table next to her, but when she rummaged through it all, nothing useful could be found; just some loose change and some folded up papers. Continuing on down the line she went, searching in every single cupboard, cabinet, and dresser drawer, while taking her heels off and putting them on the bed in the process for they would be too noisy for an escape, trying to find something she could use. There was only one more space left to look and it was the one thing that seemed to draw her in; the oak chest sitting in front of the footboard. Kneeling down, she lifted up the top only to be greeted with a forest green blanket that has definitely seen its better days as there were holes littering the fabric. Pulling that back, she dug deeper through the contents only to be stopped momentarily by a leather bound book with a yellowed piece of parchment taped to the front. Written in formal cursive, read the words "The Brady Bunch of the Supernatural Photo Album" on it. Thehandwriting looked a little familiar to her, but she couldn't remember why at the present moment and she was becoming curious to what was inside until she then snapped herself out of it. This wasn't the time and place to even begin thinking about that; she had to get out.

Pushing the book aside, she sifted through the chest until something caught her eye, making her stop once again. Taking the other items off of it, she brought the object to light. Wrapped in a mahogany frame, was a picture taken on a bright sunny day. The people in it were happy as could be and she was taken aback by who those people were. It was her; a shorter haired, more rough around the edges, version of her, but her overall. Next to her, touching cheek to cheek was the last person she would ever expect to see; Dean. He had the same look in his green eyes as she did in hers, they were darker than she remembered them being. This wasn't possible, right? How can it? So many similar questions started bubbling up in her mind, only she shut them down immediately because she was becoming distracted. She had to keep going. She put the frame on the pile of the other stuff that was found in the chest and kept digging deeper. It was another minute more, coming up empty handed. "Shit," letting the curse slip under her breath as she got up from her spot, putting everything back the way everything was. No weapon found. Unless-She looked back to the once forgotten black heels and the idea sprang to life.

Quickly grabbing them, she turned and headed to the door to where she carefully turned the knob and pulled the door closer to her, trying not to make a sound. Peeking her head out, checking if the coast was clear, she stepped out into the hallway where bricks were stacked halfway up the wall while white, Carrera marble filled the rest to the ceiling and similar wooden doors sat to either side. Closing the door behind her, she walked along the wall, watching out for anyone to stroll on by, in which she would be ready for them just in case. Just like the room she previously woke up in, everything was silent up until she heard the click of gun's hammer and a gruff voice commanding "Don't. Move," behind her. Freezing in her tracks she gripped the heels a little tighter, ready to use them when need be. "Put the heels down, and turn around slowly," The voice ordered. She knew that voice, just who it was escaped her for the moment.

Doing what was instructed bent down to put the heels on the floor only she spun rapidly around, stabbing the man, embedding the heel into the right upper arm, causing him to drop his gun to the black and white, sidewalk-like, tile floor and emit a pained scream. Moving back from him, she held the other black heel in her hand at the ready to do it again, without hesitation. She broke her focus, after she realized who was in front of her. "Sam?" She uttered, completely dumfounded.

The man in question lifted his head to see were the new voice came from and when he did, completely and utterly shell-shocked. He stood there in disbelief staring at the short blonde headed, chartreuse eyed, and bright red dressed woman holding the heel as if it was a knife. The look on her face said everything; she was confused and didn't know what was going on, didn't know why she was here. That question jumped out immediately in his mind. Why is she here? How is she here? She can't be when there isn't any possible way she could be when-He didn't finish the thought for those painful memories wouldstart to resurface again and he definitely did want that again. The only way he could possibly rationalize what was happening before him was that this was all in a dream; a sick and torturous dream that his subconscious seemingly created for him. If that was the case, then he would just have to play along until he wakes up the following morning and carry on like it never happened. There was a small lump in his throat that started to form just as he thought and spoke of the name he never believed, nor would he ever until now, to be used again. "Amber?"

Amber stared at the astounded man wearing a black, V-neck, T-shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of dark, steel-toed, work boots. The last time she had seen him as way back at Bobby's place when he and Alissa were on Skype and from what she could remember, his hair wasn't past his shoulders; his bangs were just long enough to tuck behind his ears, and a little bit lighter too. Those zultanite shades in his eyes reflecting the low and somber light in a way in which would be described as disconcerted as he lifted his head to gaze directly at her. The expression on his face worried her for she felt that there was something wrong regarding her. Was it just her or the situation surrounding her? Was it this place she was currently in and just where is it? She didn't realize that both of them became silent and when her eyes roamed over the details about him that have changed, they settled upon the heel which was still embedded in his upper arm. "Oh my God, Sam!" she exclaimed as she rushed over to accesses the injury that was caused by her so-called 'ninja skills'. It didn't look to bad from what she could see but once that heel was taken out, it could very well be a totally different story. "I got to get this out. First, you're going to have to either bend down or sit on the floor," Amber instructed, sending a quick glance up to his face seeing that he had broken out of his temporary haze, then back down to the lodged heel. "Because you're at least two feet taller than me, you giant."

A little quirk sprung from the side of Sam's lips at the nickname she had used for him. It may not seem like much for others, but for Sam it signified something for both his and Amber's friendship. They had gotten along pretty well during the years they had known each other and it never went past a platonic into a romantic relationship which they were both comfortable with anyways. Sam and Amber were more like brother and sister in terms of family versus anything else. They've always been close and would be there whenever someone needed to talk, no matter what it was. He decided to shove those thoughts aside, concluding what his earlier idea of this being a dream as truth for now and decided to just play along. "Uh, I believe there's a bathroom just down here," Sam informed her, looking up to the rest of the dull hallway in front of him.

"All righty," Amber answered, taking a step back to give Sam his breathing room once she realized how close he was to him, looked up in the direction down the hall and back up to his face. "Lead the way then," she gestured with her hand out in front of her signaling for him to take point in which he gladly did, until he stopped short when he remembered that his gun was knocked to the floor. Sheepishly, he asked her if she could pick it up for him since it would make it awkward for him to bend down to pick up with a heel embedded in his arm and risk causing more muscle damage than what there already is. Shecomplied, walking over to pick up after it was precariously slid down the hall. Flicking the safety back on, she held it in her right hand, her heel in the other as she briskly paced over to Sam's side once again and handed off the firearm. He took it graciously and stuck it in his waistband the best he could using one hand while they ambled down the dull corridors. As they continued, it became a wonder to Amber as to how Sam knew exactly where to go when everything looked the same from the doors, the walls, the lights, even the strange symbol on the doors itself creating-for her at least-one large maze. While there was supposed to be a comfortable silence surrounding the two of them, it felt more of a feeling of great presagious, this deep foreboding sensation, and Amber couldn't discern why she was experiencing this nagging emotion both in the pit of her stomach and in the back of her mind.

She didn't break out of the intercommunications of thoughts in her brain until she bumped into the back of Sam, who had stopped in the path they had traveled by a door similar to the others. Amber took a step back from him, muttering an apology when he turned half-way around with a subtle smile on his lips as he held the heel in its place, announcing that they have arrived to their destination. She then mentally scolded herself from the embarrassment she had caused herself for not realizing what was happening in her general surroundings but quickly shoved it aside once she got her mind back on track to the task on hand: removing the planted shoe she somehow managed to stab him with in the upper arm. "Everything you need is back there," she heard him say when she entered through the threshold into the small bathroom. It was quaint little room with fern tinctured walls and Bubinga woodwork planks encompassing a large, oak cabinet with two drawers sat along the furthest wall while a small white sink, a medium sized mirror just hanging above it, and a toilet were all placed to the immediate left past the doorway. On the right hand side was an elongated shower and bathtub combination with a matching white curtain stretching from the door, all the way to the very back of the room. She set the heel that was in her hand underneath the sink before she sauntered to the oak doors as she listened to the shuffling and squeaking of Sam sitting down on the toilet lid just after he took the gun out of his waistband and set it carefully behind the faucet, while she looked through the space to find the contents she needed for the job.

Once she found all that was required, Amber turned and shut the cabinet's doors and headed over to the sink to start working. "So, let's get this thing out, shall we?" She questioned him with light enthusiasm and a quick smile to which he responded with a nod and a similar reaction. Grabbing some clean paper towels off the roll she found, she pressed them around the injury. Sam's response of sucking in a hissed breath through his teeth didn't go unnoticed, lifting her eyes to gauge his expression quickly then shifted them back down to try and focus on what she was doing. "I'll have it out in a sec," she commented, pushing more paper towels underneath the already blood soaked sleeve of his shirt. It surprised her that there was not any blood running down his arm yet due to how large the wound around the heel was. Probably once the heel's out, it would start gushing like crazy.

"No, no," Sam started, waving his hand in dismissal to her statement. He could handle this at least. It's not like he couldn't handle pain since being a hunter comes with the requirement of all things pain and injury related. It also wasn't the first time he had to be stitched up on the job or stitched up in general. "There's no rush," he added just as his mind started drifting to long ago memories of past hunts and how Amber was the one who would always be the mom to both him and his brother. It was funny when she would scold Dean for something mundane (leaving a pile of clothes on the floor or papers strewn across a table) that he did wrong, which she would get a sarcastic response from him in return until she said something back resulting him in not having a comeback. It was always fun when she was around not matter what was happening, she would try to make everyone laugh and have a good time. He smiled at some of the nostalgia bubbling up in his mind but was snapped out of it when Amber spoke through the quiet that befallen the room they occupied.

"So, this place sure is humble with the gray, brown, and black," she said while cutting the sleeve to get better access to the area. She could deal with silence, the quietness of everything, but she would much rather be talking with people around her and enjoying the conversations, getting to know people and possibly make another friend, two even three in the process instead of just existing in the space.

Sam recovers quickly from his haze and sending out a chuckle, casting down his head then quickly raises it to look at Amber. "Yeah, I'll say," he states. He thought the same thing when he and Dean ventured through the Bunker the night they found it. It needed to be touched up in certain spots from it just sitting dormant for how many years before it was opened back up to see the light of day again. "That's the Men of Letters I guess; have everything more business-like than homey," he turned his head down to look at her careful and steady hands at work.

She stopped momentarily to step away to get some pads ready for when she pulled out the heel and then went back over in front of him again. "Men of Letters?" Amber asked curiously.

A puzzled expression appeared on his face when he lifted his head again to view hers while partially cocking his head to the side where his long, brown, strands followed the motion. "Don't you remember?"

She felt she was missing a great chunk of highly important information which, for a hunter, wasn't something to get into. Missing important details could literally turn into a Life or Death situation, and no one wants that. She decided to fall back on her tried and true way of getting what any source of information she needs; just play along and hope for the best. "No, I guess I don't. Can you, maybe, refresh my memory?" She asked him.

"Uh, sure," he answered. "They were basically a historical society built of scholars, philosophers, writers, researchers-you name it, dealing with the supernatural. Just anything that couldn't be explained or known to man through normal means of science," Sam explained to her the easiest way he could.

"Whoa," she said, surprised.

"You also couldn't get in if you were a hunter because to them, they considered hunters to be a lower class apparently for whatever reason, but if somehow they deemed you worthy, they would share their topmost secrets and become a member," he added.

"Huh, that's kinda stupid. It's understandable, but stupid. So not only do they have all of these 'mysteries' stashed away, there's this giant building to hold it all, which I'm assuming is their hideout?" Amber questioned.

"Their underground bunker," Sam corrected.

"Bunker? Oh that's pretty cool," she marveled at the idea of all of that hidden mysteries just waiting to be discovered. Who knew how much information could be discovered and how it can be used for the better?

Sam then retreats to the inside of his mind as he wonders if this 'Amber' in front of him at this moment in time, is the Amber he knew when they found this very bunker all those years ago. He shifts his eyes to the heel still in his arm, up to her face to hold for a mere few seconds, but turned his head back down to the ground in front of him as his mind started thinking about the old memories again. His face seems to form a little smile but it never reached his eyes. "I guess it's been a while since you stopped by, hasn't it?" He asked aloud, not really realizing the question was meant for his mind and not into the open.

She held a confused look on her face at what he was talking about but since she was still fishing for any and all answers she could get out of him, she decided to continue to playing along. "I guess it has," she replied back. "Okay, I need to take this out, so are you ready?" She asked, quickly changing the subject. Receiving a nod from Sam, Amber put her hands around the heel while she told Sam to press the pads against the wound and to keep still. With a hard pull, trying to wiggle it out, the heel was free from the confines of Sam's arm, to which his only response was a grunt of pain as he kept tight pressure to stop anyoncoming bleeding.

"Awesome! That's finally out. I'm sure that feels so much better," she told him.

Another minute of silence passes as they both retreat to their thoughts. One is reminiscing the good old days when everything felt right in the world, no impending doom looming over everyone's shoulders. Such a peaceful time once it all settled in, but that was before the pain of the harsh reality of leading this life set in to where it always seemed to sneak up when leastexpected. The other one delved deep into the swirling pool of possibilities of what the Men of Letters found, what secrets they found and maybe, there was something that could help not only her, but others she was close to as well. The silence between them wasn't tense in the slightest and felt more companionable than anything else.

"It's good to see you again, Amber," Sam spoke absently as his eyes circled a general area on the floor, not quite concentrating to one spot.

Amber went rigid for a millisecond, she became puzzled and since she was too afraid to ask what he meant by it, she decided to start stitching up his arm instead. "It's nice to see you too, Sam," she answered him. "I could've sworn it was about a month or two ago, back at Bobby's, your hair was just past your ears and now it's already down to your shoulders," she stated, which caught his attention, only he tried not show it. "What have you been eating to make your hair grow that fast? I mean seriously,"she joked.

Sam chuckled despite being perplexed on why she had said Bobby's place when that wasn't possible. "Just the usual greens," something was definitely not right, he couldn't figure out what, making him all the more confused, if not just a bit annoyed.

"Must've added something when you weren't looking when you bought them," she joked. "Because I don't think anyone's hair grows that fast!"

His laughing smile softens as he turned his head to face her again. "Normally, no I guess not. Then again, since when are we normal?"

"True, and there we go," she finalized while cleaning up her workspace. "You're all set."

Sam nodded his head then gazed down to look at the finished product of being stabbed by a black heel, of all things. The stitches were covered with a cloth pad and wrapped with gauze, including the ripped shirt as well. "Thank you."

She glances over to him and back to the supplies she was taking care of. "You're welcome," she lifts her head to look directly at him. "Sorry about the, uh, stabbing you with a heel," she apologized, going back to her earlier task.

He shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders while wincing at the regretful movement. "It's all right. You don't need to," he dismisses her apology. "I've been stabbed with worse. Don't think it'll be the last time either. Now, I just need to remember that women's shoes count as weapons," he stops short after realizing what he just said, followed by another chuckle. "Neverthought those words would ever come out of my mouth."

Amber picks up her supplies while walking back to the cabinet in the back corner and sticks them in the correct places whereshe found them. "When it comes to me, anything's a weapon," she thought he said something to her but she wasn't sure because at the same time, she heard the toilet seat make a noise as he got up, stretching his leg muscles after sitting in one place for so long. "You say something?" She asked without looking back.

"What? No. Just trying not to pull the stitches," he tells her a little too quickly for her liking but she disregards it for now.

Finally packing and throwing everything away, she turned back and walked over to him, checking over to make sure it whatshe did was still in place. "Definitely don't want to do that."

"I'll try my best," Sam's face shifted as if he suddenly remembered something. "Oh, hey. I need to stop at the library for something. Wanna tag along?" He asks her nonchalantly.

The question caught her off guard. Rarely was she ever invited to tag along to go anywhere. Someone was always leaving her behind whether it was accidental or out of some sort of spite and she hated it. Amber never knew or understand why they left. Was it her? Did she do something wrong? If she did, what was the very thing she did to make everyone leave her? "Uh, sure. I just need to clean these heels up first since I don't have any other footwear," she shifted her eyes down to the heels then up to Sam's eyes again. "So, if you don't mind waiting a bit," her statement was opened ended, making it sound more like a question.

Sam sends her a tight smile followed by a short nod. "Oh, yeah, sure. I don't mind," he heads towards the door before flipping back around to look at her. "I'll be right outside the door then," he tells her before he finishes the rest of the way out with his shoulders slightly drooping as he shut the door behind him.

Amber wastes no second longer in cleaning those heels. It took longer than she had anticipated but she got them to where wanted them. It wasn't perfect, it was at least presentable. "Better check myself out here," she mumbled as she stood in front of the mirror. She never got the chance to look at herself when she woke up, she thought now would be the best time to take that opportunity. Taking a tube of lipstick out of her bra she stashed for safekeeping, she felt it was time for a redo of her lips. She didn't want to walk out with smudged lips, it would look odd. After finalizing her appearance, she headed out, closing thedoor behind her as she turns to face Sam who was leaning against the wall waiting patiently. "All ready," she notifies.

He jolts at the sudden sound of a voice but tries to play it off like he's pushing off the wall he was leaning against. She saw this and decided not to say anything but in her mind she kept thinking he should be use to people sneaking up on him and that shouldn't have spooked him as bad as it did. He must really be off his game. Wonder what happened? Sam turned to her, jerking his head to the side. "All right, let's go," he tells her with a happier tone that made her assume something was wrong and made a mental note for later as she followed him down the halls.

It wasn't long after they started walking that she felt now would be the time to get a few more answers out of him. Who knows when the next time will be? "Hey, Sam?" She starts off, immediately receiving a hum in response, signaling for her to continue. "How do you not get lost in here? It's like a maze."

He kept moving his head back and forth between the door numbers and in front of him. Glancing every which way, not quite making eye contact with her. If he ever did, it was only for a brief second, which wasn't long enough for her to get a good reading on what was running through his brain; that was her thing. Her ability was basically second nature to her, reading how other people were feeling based on body language, tone of voice, facial expressions, and anything else. If Amber had to guess, he knew she was trying to read him by his actions. Just how he knew, she didn't know. "You get used to it after a while. At first it was hard to navigate, now I know it almost like the back of my hand," he tells her.

She decided to also have a look around the doors, following his lead but she never lost sight of him. "Pretty big accomplishment I'd say," she returns. The air was tensing up and Sam knew he was hiding something from Amber, she had that sneaking suspicion. The majority of the time they would reign true. Quickly changing the subject, she tries to match up to Sam's longer strides. "What do you need in the library? I can help you look, make the time go by faster," she questions him.

He doesn't look back at her as they turn a corner almost to their destination. "Forgot to grab the book I needed for research.Won't take long," he says, somewhat distracted.

"Okay," she said. "What are you researching?"

"It's for a case I came across the other day," Sam replies, glancing back to make sure she was following him.

She was following him all right. What is he hiding? The thought ran through her mind. She finally caught up to him and his overly long legs, so now she's right in stride. "Uh-huh," she states, not believing the words he's spewing out, he wasn't even giving her a definite answer on top of it. It's starting to get on her nerves that he's not looking into her eyes or even looking at her, period. Not only is it rude but it's disrespectful, in her eyes. "By the way, where's Dean? Is he out gathering 'info'?

Amber sees that small smirk drag on his lips at the insinuation until it faded as if he started to remember the reality of a current situation. He sucked in a breath like he wanted to let someone down gently because a relationship wasn't working for them. "Uh, no. No. Dean's," he paused briefly, thinking of the right words to say. "Dean's taking a break from the case," he lets out.

She was taken aback at what she just heard. She definitely couldn't believe that. Did she even hear him right? "Wait, what? Dean's not working on the case?"

"I was surprised about it too," Sam responds. He looks back to Amber who starts walking again.

She looks up at him with a concerned expression on her face. "Do you know why?" She asks him.

He was silent for a little too long for her liking, he wouldn't look at her and it was starting to tick her off. "No, I don't. I wish he would tell me."

Amber narrows her eyes at him, she was mad now. This was enough. Why can't people tell the truth? It would not only make things easier, they probably would get in less trouble. "Want to run that by me again? Only this time tell me the truth. I know there's a thing you're not telling me. Spill," he hesitated to answer her, the look on his face told her that he was trying to find the right words to say or even tell her at all. She put a hand on his good arm and yanked him back so he would be facing her, causing them to stop. "Sam," saying his name like a mother catching her child in the middle of a lie.

Sam casts his eyes downward to the floor instead of looking she wanted him to look. If he did catch her gaze, it was only for a quick second. He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales, preparing to let everything out. He didn't want to tell her. It was too painful not only for him, but for his brother; especially his brother. "Dean…hasn't been okay, for some time now," he starts out. "He's not the same as he once was..." He takes a pause to collect himself before continuing. "Something happened a while back and it completely shattered him. It shocked all of us too."

She searches for something in his eyes whether it's the truth or what, there was something she found that made it believable, if only for the time being. "What happened?" She asks cautiously. She knew he would do anything for his brother and if he wasn't his normal self, Sam put everything he had into finding a way to get his brother back, no matter the cost.

He was trying is best to keep those emotions that were threating to break out, at bay. This wasn't like him for his emotions to creep up this fast or even at all, but since he figured that this was deep in his subconscious, it made it harder for him to lie to himself that everything was okay, for the time being until he was truly alone. "I..." He let out a low, quiet sigh which Amber had caught immediately.

She knew that this was hard for him, she knew it right away. Amber had seen that same look before; it was the exact one she had when she lost someone close to her. It was the same one after the reality sank in and it wasn't pretty. "You don't have to talk about it. I understand," she sent a small smile in his direction to hopefully get his mind off of whatever he was thinking of. He didn't deserve it. "Why don't we go grab that book, okay?"

Sam gives his best effort to return a smile after she pulled him out of his dark space of his mind. "Yeah," was his only response before they started walking and turned down another hallway. Based upon how the light in area was becoming brighter, they were getting close to their destination. "Library's just around the corner here," Sam tells her, a little distracted after finally calming down.

Amber looked at him, brows knitting together. She thought they were heading to a normal library; this bunker would be too small to hold that many books. There's also the saying that looks can be deceiving, which could be the case and she's open for anything coming her way. "You have a library in here?" She asked.

"Sure do," he said. "There's more than meets the eye when it comes to this bunker and Men of Letters stashed all sorts of documents around here. I'm sure there's tons of other rooms we haven't found yet."

She was utterly amazed at how this place could have even more rooms than the ones she saw in the halls. How many more could there be? Why did they need to have so many? Was it so no one else could steal everything they had? She inwardly groaned at the thought of all of the walked she would have to do if she ended up becoming lost in here. It would take forever for her to find her way around. It was still awesome there were hidden rooms scattered just waiting to be found. "That's actually pretty cool!" She commented. "What doesn't this place have?"

Sam laughed at how amazed this was to her. He was like that when they found this place too. He still kind of is but since it happened, this bunker sort of lost its luster. It became more like the walls were closing in on him rather than the open area it has in the rooms. "Haven't found that out yet. I'll let you know when we do."

They both come up through the war room into the library. Sam thought that no one else was in the space until he was proved wrong as another man was sitting in a wooden chair by one of the elongated oak tables. He looked to be exhausted. And from what Amber could see of him, he had bags under his eyes like he hasn't slept in a week, possibly two, his medium brown hair was short, with a spike in the front and some pieces that were fly away, causing a bed head appeal. His clothes, consisting of apine colored button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, a pair of dark wash blue jeans that had wrinkles in them (but that could have been how he was sitting) and tan work boots. This was the man whom she had seen in that picture frame not more than twenty minutes ago, only, he was more beat down, haggard. She was stuck in her tracks a couple steps in back of Sam like her hand was caught stealing from the cookie jar. She shouldn't be like this. Just seeing him sitting at the table is making her feel like she should hightail it out of there-or at least run the other way and around the corner-so she wouldn't see him. "C'mon self. Get it together. What's wrong with you?" She thought. She wasn't aware of the noise her heels made until now. They were clacking along the floor the whole time and why did she just notice this? "Dammit Amber! Get it together!"

"Alright. Well let me know when you find him. Who knows how much stuff he's already messed up?" He orders the person on the other end in a brusque tone of his gruff voice. "Yeah, okay, Bye," he ended the conversation and places the phone onto the table, running his hands through his hair and all down his face in obvious frustration.

Sam walks up through the threshold going in as he alerts his brother. "Hey!"

"Hey," he didn't look up from the table which had papers scattered all over it and from what Amber could tell, there were tons of security cam images, print outs and old books staked into not so neat piles. It brought some sort of nostalgia to her. It reminded her of Bobby's with the amount of clutter and amount of paperwork. She broke out of her reminisce and was on high alert once again. She was just at Bobby's and now she's here; where ever this bunker is.

"Who was that?" Sam asks as he gets closer to him.

Dean continues to scan over the documents in front of them, shifting them around. "That, was Alfie," he starts off saying. "He thinks he has a lead on where and possibly when Cas is at, so he's off checking it out."

Sam's face shifted to something of surprise as he slows down his pacing to an almost complete stop. "Wow. That was fast," he commented.

"Chyeah," Dean chuffed. "I thought that too." He lifted his head to look at his brother until he froze as he saw who was following behind him, almost hesitantly. He would usually look away whenever this would happen. His mind was playing sickening tricks again and would ignore them. It was only this time that he couldn't do that. He had a feeling that this time around wasn't the same as the others. His eyes widened as the wind was knocked right out him, his complexion paled as if he was seeing a ghost; not that he hasn't before but this was completely different. This was a look of utter disbelief. It couldn't be possible, could it? He let that first instinct he felt take over. He didn't know where it would lead him, but something was pulling him along whether it was good or bad. Dean hated how his voice had a crack the very second he spoke that name and despite the hatred, it was an accurate representation of what he was feeling ever since he witnessed it firsthand; broken. "Amber?"

A/N: Oh man! The Bunker? Yes, Amber stabbed Sam with her heel. It was a quick thinking type of thing. Who knew women's shoes could be so deadly? What happened to Sam and Dean to where they're acting like that? Guess you'll have to wait and see!

OH, I also went back and rewrote the majority of the chapters. if you don't know or don't remember what's going on, then you might want to go back and reread again. It took me quite a long time to rewrite the majority of the chapters and I hope they are a lot better than how they used to be.

Also letting you guys know that as I have stated at the very beginning, this story is an AU of sorts, so the timeline has somewhat changed compared to the canon verse. There are some things that stayed the same while others were completely avoided. I'll try to explain what changed in the chapters themselves but if you are still confused then feel free to send me a PM, send me an email at ssecondascension (the double 's' at the front is intentional), or send me a message on tumblr "second-ascension" or "carryonmycobaltangel". I hope that this has cleared up some things aswell.

Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed this chapter and I hope to see you guys on the next one! Thank you so much for staying with me from the very start of this story. If you are a new reader, then welcome aboard! Hope you can stay for the long run! Get ready for emotional times in the chapter to come. Bring tissues!

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