Author's Note: Hey everyone, this story is a new and improved version of the original draft I had posted a long time ago. The reason I'm rewriting this story is because the other one was complete and utter crap. It was horrible, there were a million grammar mistakes, things didn't make sense, and there weren't enough details. I'm surprised it even got as many reviews as it did. So, I've decided to scrap the old one and start a brand new one (just because I can, and I believe my writing skills have improved since then.) Which is good for you, since I plan on making this one way better than the original, but I'm still keeping the same title; it just goes well with the storyline. I want to thank everyone who read the original and encouraged me to continue. They meant more to me than you'll ever know.

Summary: (Set in season 1) After the horrific events that happened with Bloody Mary a few weeks ago, the guys head out on the road, and begin to follow the next set of clues in their father's journal. Dean thought he could keep the skeletons in his closet at bay. But he knows, better than anyone, that more often than not, the past refuses to stay forgotten.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sam and Dean Winchester, they belong to the CW. However, I do own my made up characters.

So, without further ado; out with the old, and in with the new!

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Prologue

The bright light of the overhead fixture is blinding as it pierces the darkness of the kitchen. I have to squint my eyes for a full second before they can adjust to the change.

"Bad dream?" Carla asks; her hand still on the light switch.

I can only nod, my hands wrap tighter around the ceramic mug placed before me on the table. I can hear Carla sigh as she enters the kitchen, rummage through one of the cabinets near the sink. She fills a mug with coffee from the pot, pulls out a chair at the table, and settles herself next to me.

"Wanna talk about it?" She asks after taking a sip.

"Not really," I respond, shifting in my seat.

"This is how many nights now?" Carla whispers.

I have trouble breathing past the lump in my throat; it takes me a moment to reply.

"Five nights in a row."

"Always the same dream?"

"Always." I lift the mug to my lips and take a drink, hoping that it will make the lump go down easier. It doesn't. Silence covers the two of us like a blanket. It stretches for what almost seems like an hour, until Carla's voice fills the once quiet room.

"I know this is the last thing you wanna hear right now Liv," Carla pauses for a moment, seeming to struggle with the words she is trying to say, "but, maybe you should see a doctor about this. See if you can get some help. Sleeping pills, ya'know?" Carla refuses to look at me as I gaze at her in astonishment.

"There's nothing wrong with me Carla, nothing. Bad dreams are bad dreams. No more, no less. I don't need to see a doctor."

"I think you're wrong," Carla objects, finally looking up to meet my eyes. Her dark chocolate orbs are filled with conviction as she continues. "I can hear you in the middle of the night. Thrashing around in your room, those aren't ordinary nightmares Liv. They sound so…so violent. It's like you're fighting for your life in there. Its not normal Olivia, you need help."

My vision becomes distorted as I stare at my best friend. Tears are forming at the corners of my eyes; threatening to spill over the edges.

"I…"

"Who's Dean?"

"What?" I gasp before I can stop myself.

"Who is Dean?" Carla repeats her question. "You call out that name constantly. You sound so desperate, like it's your last lifeline or something."

My heart is pumping so hard I can hear the blood pulsing in my ears. It feels like it's going to leap out of my chest any second. The palms of my hands are beginning to sweat, and I desperately wipe them on my thighs.

"He's…he's no one. No one at all." I say in a rush.

Carla looks at me, speculation clearly visible on her beautiful face. She opens her mouth to reply when a loud electronic crackle sounds throughout the room, cutting her off. I turn to the baby monitor sitting on the counter, and wait.

"Mommy…" Her voice is a mere whimper, this is my cue.

I leap from the table, pushing the chair back in the process. Without a second glance at Carla, I hurry from the room.

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I hate this part of the job. The packing and moving on, as if we'd never been here. Now that I think about it, we're nothing more than ghosts ourselves. Moving from place to place, never really belonging anywhere. Lost souls in a way.

A laugh bubbles in my chest and spills out, breaking the silence of the hotel room. 'Ghosts ourselves' 'Lost souls'? Ha! Nice analogies, very deep. Damn, spending so much time with Sam is really making me crazy.

Sam looks up at me from his packing and frowns.

"What's so funny?"

"Ah, it's nothin'." I reply, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, trying to erase the smile that is twitching at the corners of my lips.

Sam shakes his head at me, "You're crazy, you know that Dean?"

"You don't know the half of it Sammy." I say as I finish throwing my dirty clothes into my army green duffle bag and zipping it shut. Placing the black strap on my shoulder, I turn to face my little brother.

"You ready to get out of here?" I ask him, crossing my arms.

Sam nods, "Yeah. I'm sick of this town."

"Me too." I go to the nightstand and pick up the room's keycard, slip it into my back pocket. We both head for the door.

"How do you feel about stopping at a bar along the way? I'm a little thirsty." I ask, and wiggle my eyebrows up and down. Sam rolls his eyes as he opens the door and steps out onto the breezeway.

"You're always thirsty Dean."

I shrug my shoulders, it's true.

"What do you feel like?" Sam puts his hands in his pockets as he waits.

I close the door behind me, readjust the strap, and make a face. "How 'bout a Bloody Mary?" I ask, mock innocence coloring my tone of voice.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny." Sam responds, sarcastic as ever.

"What?" I ask indignant, "It sounds kinda good right now!"

"Yeah. Right." Sam snorts.

We head for the hotel's main office to check out. I'm smiling to myself the whole way.

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A/N: What did you think? Was it good or bad? Was Dean too out of character? Or was Sam? What did you think of the P.O.V choice? Please review. Thank you in advance!