I don't own Supernatural. Darn. I do own Asher Michaels and this story, excluding the bits from the show. My friend Shauna owns Amelia Shaw, and I am using her in my story with her permission. This fic is rated for violence, blood, language, drinking, sexual situations and, hopefully, some scary shit. I don't know how good I will be at writing scary stuff since I've never actually tried before. Enjoy the stories.

Monster Hospital, Book One: Zombies.
Chapter Ten: Goodbye... For Now.

Asher and Dean sat in the cab of her truck for a long time, until it was true dark and the lights from the motel were the only source of illumination. There was no moon. The stars were somewhat visible, although mostly washed out by the lights from nearby towns. Regardless, it was peaceful. Those unshed tears spilled over at some point and Asher cried silently, her shoulders shaking slightly, but there was no noise. Dean didn't say a thing and it was Asher who broke the stillness, the silence they had been sitting in. She climbed out of the vehicle and slid down to the parking lot, and Dean joined her as she retrieved her duffel bag from the back of the truck.

"You okay?" he asked when she turned around.

She slung the bag onto her back and shrugged. "Yeah... I mean, it's not like I haven't killed anyone before..."

Asher sighed and leaned against her truck, her blue eyes and normally strong face heavy with emotions. As Dean watched, her brow furrowed and her eyes paled, the dark blue almost swirling until they were the colour of the sky on a winter's morning. It only took a second for Dean to realize what was going on, but a second longer in the transformation was too long. A low growl started in Asher's throat and it grew as she looked up at him. Dean grabbed her by the shoulders and stared hard in her eyes.

"Asher," he said, voice firm. She growled at him, struggling against his hands. He tightened his grip and slammed her back into the truck. "Asher!" Dean dug his fingers into her arms hard enough to bruise, even break skin if she wasn't wearing her jacket, and slammed her harder into the fibreglass of her beloved truck. "ASHER!"

She growled again, but she tried to stop it, and the noise that came out was somewhere between a snarl and a cough. "Dean," she groaned as she closed her eyes. Her hands searched until they found his arms and she held on, her fingers almost as tight as his had been a moment ago. "I'm sorry... I don't know what's wrong with me..." She looked up at him again, her eyes back to their normal bright blue, but lacking the accusatory glare they usually held when focused on Dean.

"You're probably just tired."

The werewolf took in the offered smirk with one of her own and then pulled away and headed for the door of their motel room. "Maybe," she said. "Let's get some rest then."

"Hey, I never said I was tired."

Once inside the room, Dean went to check in with Sam and see if they had anywhere else to go in the morning, and Asher immediately went into the bathroom and shut and locked the door, ignoring Amelia's questions. She undressed and started the shower, climbing underneath the water as soon as it was scalding enough to take skin off a normal person. As she was prone to doing, Asher closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind, tried to reach that almost meditative state she could sometimes achieve when she was standing under a torrent of water.

There was no such luck this time.

All she could see was Stanley Hammermill's face as she brought the stake down for the kill. It hadn't bothered her at the time, and she didn't feel like she'd done something wrong, so why was this kill eating at her? Why was he any different than the others she had killed in her life as a hunter?

Because he wasn't evil. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone.

He wasn't really the bad guy.

And there was the heart of the problem.

If Stanley's father had been alive, he could have taught his necromancer son how to control his powers, and none of the people—that little girl lying on the table in the morgue—would have had to die. If Stanley had been lucky enough to have better circumstances, he wouldn't have had to die. He wasn't that different than Asher, really. If she had had someone to talk her through her first night as a wolf, maybe that guy wouldn't have died. If she ended up losing control of her powers again, or if Amelia failed to tie her up one of these cycles, and she killed again... Would Amelia be able to stop her? Would Sam? Would Dean?

This is bothering you because you can see yourself in the same situation, she told herself.

With a sigh, Asher sat down in the bathtub and brought her knees up to her chest. She placed her chin on her knees and stared at the white tile of the wall in front of her, the hot water slowly cooling as it continued to run over her, plastering her black hair to her shoulders, back, neck and chest.

There was a knock on the door. It brought Asher out of her thoughts.

"Ash?" Amelia called through the wood of the door.

"What?" she asked, perhaps a little more hostile than she meant to.

"I'm coming in." The door open and shut and Amelia was kneeling on the floor beside the tub. "Are you okay? Dean said you were acting weird and you've been in here for almost an hour."

"I fine," she lied. "I just wanted a long shower. I was just about to get out."

Amelia searched her sister's face through the translucent shower curtain and then nodded, her grey eyes full of the worry she wouldn't express. "Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were all right. We're going to head out early tomorrow."

"You got a lead?"

"No." Amelia handed Asher a fluffy white towel after she'd shut the water off and climbed onto the bathmat. "But I want to get away from here as soon as possible. And as soon as one of us can drive without going into a ditch or something. I'm beat."

Asher wrapped the towel around herself and twisted it until it was tight enough to stay up on its own. "That sounds like a good plan. I'm pretty tired too. Damn it," she said, looking at the counter where her clothes sat in a ball. "I forgot to bring my pyjamas in here. Can you go get them for me?"

Amelia nodded, disappeared and reappeared a moment later, the pile of plaid flannel and cotton that served as Asher's night wear. The younger sister stood by the door as Asher changed and then they walked back into the room together. Hair still wrapped in a small towel, Asher climbed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Amelia was asleep in seconds, the sounds of her even breathing joining Sam's soft snoring from the couch across the room. Dean was sitting at the small table by the window, his sawed off lying across his knees and his eyes turned out the window.

"Do you really think there's any need to keep watch tonight?" she asked, rolling onto her side.

"Is there any need not to?"

"Well, we did kill the zombies and the guy controlling them, so..."

Dean shrugged. "There could be something else out there. Better safe than sorry."

"I suppose. Wake me if there's any danger."

"Will do."

Asher pulled the towel off her head and rolled onto her other side, so her back was to Dean and closed her eyes. Sleep didn't come easily, but eventually she did fall into a restless slumber, images of Stanley's face plaguing what could be passed for dreams. She was the first one up in the morning. Actually, she was the second one up, but she wasn't sure if Dean had ever actually gone to sleep, as he was still sitting in the same chair at the table, and it didn't look like he'd moved at all. Once she had made a pot of coffee, Asher joined him at the table, her own sawed off sitting on the table between them, and for a long time, they just sat in silence like they had in the truck last night, watching the world outside lighten.

"You know, if you don't move, you'll cramp up."

Dean levelled his gaze at her, eyebrow raised. "Feeling better, are we?"

She offered a tight smile. "You and Sam have any leads?"

"No, you?"

"No. But would I tell you if we did?"

"Probably not."

"I think we're heading west though," Asher said, draining her coffee. "It's been a while since we've seen the west coast."

"Huh. We usually wait for a lead to decide which way we're going."

"We go where we want and see if there's anything there, unless we have a lead already."

"Telling all our trade secrets Ash?" Amelia said as she climbed out of bed. "I'm going to pack..." Asher and Dean watched her stumble into the bathroom and back out again, her eyes half-closed and her shoulders slumped. "You'd better pack too, Ash... We're leaving as soon as we're both ready..."

"We should leave soon too, Dean."

The older siblings both turned towards the couch where Sam was just getting up. "I suppose you're right Sammy. I'll start packing. There's coffee if you two want it."

Amelia mumbled something unintelligible and Sam just made for the coffee pot. Clearly, he was a morning person, and that simple fact earned him a glare from Asher as she moved to her side of the bed and fetched her duffel bag to monopolize the bathroom while she changed. When she came back out, dressed in her normal boots, jeans and jacket, the boys had finished packing and Amelia was just pulling her cowboy hat on her head. Sam gave a nod to Asher before heading out to start loading up the Impala. Amelia followed suit, leaving her and Dean alone in the motel room.

"You know," Asher said as Dean shrugged into what she took to be his favourite leather jacket, "you might want to invest in a leather jacket that fits properly."

"It was my dad's," he said simply.

"Oh." Asher turned and looked out the window at Amelia and Sam, who were sitting on the tailgate of the truck, chatting idly as Amelia swung her feet back and forth. She turned around to say goodbye, and found Dean standing quite close to her, a serious look in his eyes. "What?" she snapped, startled by how close he was.

He took a step closer and sighed. "You're not a monster, Asher," he said, voice quiet.

"Did we go over this last night?" The older Winchester rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something else, but Asher cut him off. "Or do you just not want me to be a monster?"

Dean frowned. "I'll admit it is hard for me to wrap my head around you being a werewolf."

Asher gave him another tight smile. "If my major mood swings aren't enough to convince you, stick around and maybe you'll get to see me go all out wolf." She stared at him stubbornly for another moment, before her eyes fell to the floor and she leaned back against the window, the blinds making crinkling plastic noises against her weight. "I doubt you'd be so interested if you were around when I was trying to rip out your eyes."

"Ash..."

She put a hand against his chest to keep him from getting any closer. "Trust me, Dean. I may be the only one who can match your spectacular wit when I'm human, but once a month I turn into something no one wants to be around. Amelia doesn't and you wouldn't either. And don't tell me you would, because I know how people react to me." She looked him in the eye, hand still on his chest. "I turn into a monster, Dean, and if Amelia hadn't thought of those silver chains, she probably would have shot me through the heart with a silver bullet a long time ago."

"I'm sorry I called you a monster."

"Thanks, Dean, but it still comes down to the fact that someday you might have to shoot me through the chest."

"Well let's not worry about that until we have to, okay?" Dean tried to take another step closer to Asher, but she pushed against his chest, her enhanced strength keeping him in place. "Ash."

She dropped her hand and as Dean moved to close the distance, she pushed past him and headed for the door, grabbing her duffel on the way. "Call us if you need anything, okay?" she asked, with her hand on the doorknob.

"You too."

Asher gave Dean another small smile over her shoulder before she walked into the parking lot and tossed her bag in the back. Amelia, getting the message, said goodbye to Sam and they hopped off the tailgate so she could close it. As she was climbing into the passenger side of the truck, Dean came out of the room. Amelia waved and only got a nod in return before his dark eyes went looking for Asher, sitting behind the wheel, but she avoided his gaze and stared instead at the dashboard.

"What is up with you?" Amelia asked when they were on the open road again.

"Nothing."

"Oh really? Then what was with all that tension between you and Dean?"

"Nothing."

"You are so lying."

"Whatever you say, Amelia."

Author's Note.

So that's the end of Book One. Hope you all enjoyed it!

I'm still getting used to the feel of the keyboard on my new laptop, so if there are any weird typos or anything, I'm taking this opportunity to blame it on the keyboard. Muwhaha.

I'm going to be working on Ain't No Rest for the Wicked and Chances Are until they're finished now. I'm trying to minimize the amount of fics I'm working on at one time. Four or five is too many for me to write at the level I'm capable of. So Chances Are and Ain't No Rest for the Wicked are next. Woo!

So until next time!

Next Book: Vampires.
Next Chapter: Five Months Later.