The night air is warm around me. Not the pleasant kind of warm. Not the kind of warm that has a soft breeze coming through your window, not the warm where you toss the sheet down your body to only cover your feet.

It's the warm where you feel like you're drowning in the air, where you feel claustrophobic and every movement is slow and distorted. The kind of warm that makes me long for crisp winter mornings.

Despite the watery state of the night, I'm buried under an ocean of blankets. I turn over to face the wall next to my bed and pull the duvet around my shoulder, tucking the corner under my chest. My toes curl in discomfort. There's nothing worse than being in a snuggly mood with this kind of weather.

I sigh and throw the covers back, ready to swing my legs over the edge of the bed and get myself a glass of water yeah good idea kudos to me. Okay no what the hell was that? My breath catches in my throat as someone starts picking the lock of the front door to my poky little flat. Wow okay obviously nothing serious. Ugh I need to stop watching horror movies. There's a pause and I lie slowly back down, waiting to check if I was in fact making it all up. Just as I let my breath out, thinking it's okay, nope there's the door opening into the hallway nope.

I immediately pull the duvet back up and roll over to face away from the door of my bedroom, adjusting the duvet so my face is hidden.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" I hear someone with a strong, yet timid voice say.

"Sure," the other voice is huskier, more sure of itself. "How else are we supposed to get her to come with us?"

I squeeze my eyes shut and fight the urge to run for it. If I stay still they might leave. If I try to climb out of the window, they'll know where I am. Okay sleepy breathing, mouth open make it heavy but oh god, don't snore that'll tip them off for sure.

The soft tapping of their shoes is disjointed and echoes eerily through the hall. My heart thumps in my ears. They creak open the kitchen door. Look around. Turn. See my bedroom door opposite the one they just opened.

The insides of my eyelids make a smooth transition from black to dark orange. One of them makes a small step into the room and after slight hesitation the move forward to hover over my bed.

"Dean, this doesn't seem right," the Strong-Timid one says.

Dean sighs. "Look, we can't risk her trying to run for it. We need her, right? We can't afford to have her resist."

Strong-Timid Boy breathes out. "Okay, how do you wanna-"

I interrupt him by scrambling to the other side of my double bed, away from them, not even sorry. I crouch in the corner of the walls, oh god I'm like a trapped animal, pressing myself back like this. I bet they're even enjoying this, aren't they?

"Who are you?" my voice hitches and comes out weaker than I'd like.

They're staring at me in shock, then the shorter one clears his throat and puts a stern face on. "We're gonna have to get you to come with us," he's obviously Dean.

I shake my head desperately, shifting on my feet to get further away from them. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

Strong-Timid Boy puts his weight from one foot to the other, then looks down at Dean and holds his arms up in a gesture that seems to say what did I tell you?

Dean shrugs at him, then turns to me. "Hey, um," he furrows his brow, expecting me to tell him my name.

I lick my lips. "Jane," I have to have that name god almighty I'm an idiot.

"Jane, of course," he smiles, looking down and shaking his head like he's embarrassed that he never knew my name. "Jane, you're in danger. We're from the police department and we're gonna need you to come with us."

I freeze, wondering if I should believe them. On one hand, he may have forgotten my name, not never known it. They do seem appropriately dressed. On the other, why would they break into my flat to get me?

I move myself forward to kneel in front of them on the bed, holding out my hand palm facing upwards. "Badges?"

"Right, uh," he pats his coat pockets, then holds one of the flaps open and reaches inside it. He places a leather wallet in my hand and I open it, glancing inside at the badge.

My eyes scan it quickly and I look up at them, my face still pointed at the wallet. My face tilts to follow my eyes. I smile, and he thinks he's fooled me, he's then taken quite by surprise as I slap the wallet over his face with all my force. "That's a fake badge, you little twat," haha take that you little fucker.

He holds his hand against his cheekbone and I press myself back into the corner, wow why did I do that there's nowhere to run well done me oh my god.

"Son of a bitch," he says, looking up at me. "Okay you're coming with us."

He makes a move forward to grab me around the waist as Strong-Timid Boy watches on with a look of horror on his face. I slap him again and lunge off the bed along the wall, sidestepping Dean and running out of the door.

I make my way down the hall to the door, grabbing my phone off the dresser and shoving it in my bra, not having any other place. A singlet and mini shorts are not good for when you're being attacked by a couple of creepers.

Just as I fumble with the door handle, I feel two frim arms around my waist lifting me off the ground. I start screaming as Strong-Timid Boy steps ahead of us and opens the door. As Dean carries me out, hitting his arms frantically, I glare at Strong-Timid Boy, letting him know his sorrowful looks don't make him the better person.

As Dean walks me to his Impala Chevy parked in the street, I continue to swear at him, punching his arms and digging my nails into them. Tears start to rush down my face and I start screaming. All he does is clamp a hand over my mouth. I press my face into his fingers as Strong-Timid Boy opens the back door and I bite down on Dean's fingers.

"Ah!" he says, removing his hand and wringing it. "You little bitch."

I kick and hit him harder as he lays me down on the backseat. I try to kick him in the groin but he's hovering above me and all I can reach are his thighs. I push his arms away as he pulls the seatbelt down over me and I manage to punch him right in the jaw, making his head hit the roof of the car.

He squints in pain and we freeze momentarily, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He lets go of the seatbelt and stands up outside the car. I make one more attempt at kicking his pelvic area but he scoots backwards, slamming the door on the sole of my foot and sending waves of ground shock up my leg.

I collapse in defeat as he joins Strong-Timid Boy in the front. I look at them for a moment, then sit up and try to wrap my hands around Dean's neck, but Strong-Timid Boy's hand shoots out quicker than I can register and takes hold of my wrist. I snap my head around to look at him, the little muscle in my neck pinging. I set my jaw and stare him down, but he just looks at me with such sadness and regret that I have to collapse back into my seat.

Dean puts a hand on the passenger seat and looks over his shoulder at me expectantly.

I fold my arms over my chest. "What?" I practically spit at him.

He nods to my lap. "Seatbelt."

My eyes tingle again as I realise I've lost. I'm going to die. I do up my seatbelt.

He smiles. "Good," he faces forward and turns the key in the ignition. I look out the window to my left and wipe the tear slipping down my face with the back of my hand. I wince in an effort to stop crying, not wanting them to notice, which turns out not good.

"Hey, Jane," Strong-Timid Boy rests his elbow on the centre console to talk to me. He's giving me that concerned look again. It makes me want to melt, it's so sad. I don't know what it is about his face, but he just looks, sad. "We're really sorry we had to do it like this."

Dean scoffs and Strong-Timid Boy sighs. "But we couldn't see how else to. Trust me, we don't want to hurt you. We want to help you."

"So why didn't you just knock?" I snap. I'm not going to give into his puppy look. I'm not going to go soft and I'm not going to melt. I will not fall for it.

"Jane, it's three o'clock in the morning. Would you have answered the door at three in the morning?" his voice is soft and reassuring. How can someone with that sadness and softness be such an awful person?

"What's wrong with waiting till the morning?"

"We can't," Dean puts in, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. "Like I said, you're in danger. If something's gonna happen, it's gonna happen tonight. We can't wait."

I open my mouth, but shut it again. Another tear slips down my face and before I can wipe it, Strong-Timid Boy brushes his thumb across my cheek. I give him the same harsh look and swipe his hand away like oh hell no get your dirt mitts off me.

"Don't touch me."

He sighs, the same sadness in his blue eyes. He looks down and, wait. Are they green? Okay so his green eyes. He sits back in his seat to face the road and no, they're brown. Hazel? I don't know. It isn't important. He's still a creeper and I'm still going to die.

I look around the car. Is it too dark to get my phone out? I could call Sher and, what? Tell him I'm being kidnapped? How do I do that without Dean and Puppy Boy knowing I'm calling someone? And besides, Sher's in England. No way is he going to be able to help me in time.

I guess I should just face it; I'm going to die. No way around it. Not as if these dicks are taking me from my flat at three in the morning to take me to a nice little picnic with my best friends. And I can't see their motives being actually good. I'm 23 years old. They don't want anything other than. Yeah. Oh god, how do I always get myself into these situations? I swear everything that could possibly go wrong for me does. It's like I'm cursed or something. Jesus what if I am?

No, that's stupid. Why do I always get thinking like that? Jesus fucking Christ I do need help.

I look out of the window to my left. Wait, isn't this Cassie's motel? What are we doing here?

Dean pulls into a parking space and turns off the engine. He unclips his seatbelt and nods back to me before getting out and walking to a door with a gold 3 nailed to it.

Strong Timid Puppy Boy sighs. Obviously Dean doesn't want to fight me again. Obviously he's met his match. I sit up a little taller. Yeah. I won. He can suck my dick.

Strong Timid Puppy Boy opens his door and shuts it again, bursting my bubble. I'm still going to die. He opens the door and holds out his hand for me.

I look at it sceptically, then meet his changeable eyes. "I could make a break for it right now."

"Where will you go? We're ages out of town."

"I know this area like the back of my hand."

"You obviously haven't lived here that long," is he referring to the boxes in my hallway? Or my accent? It doesn't matter. I'm still going to die.

I unbuckle myself and climb out, pushing his hand away. I stand next to and away from him. "I can get out of a car by myself."

He smiles. "Of course, sorry."

For a moment I think he's going to let me go, but he walks over beside me and puts his arm loosely around my back, guiding me to room 3.

When we get inside Dean's waiting at the kitchen table, biting into an apple and shifting through some papers spread across the surface. He looks up and smiles, his cheeks bulging unattractively. He swallows.

"Well done Sammy," he nods to the seat next to him for me to sit down. Sammy goes to sit in the seat opposite but I duck in and sit there before he can.

Sammy sighs and sits next to Dean. He seems to sigh a lot. Lots of sad sighing and sad looks and sad puppy and it doesn't matter I'm still going to die.

I sit back in the chair. Yeah, if I do this it'll show them I ain't no one's play toy. I'm not going to lean in towards them. They can get some other bitch to do that. Oh god, did I just call myself a bitch?

Dean takes another bite and looks back down at the papers. I wonder what they say. If I sit up a little maybe I can read them. Psyche Report? What the hell does he need a psyche report for?

"Getting curious?" Dean smirks. Oh shit, how did I get up here. I did not want my hands to be on the table. Maybe I should sit down again. Yeah that's better. Oo, fold my arms, yeah. Maybe I should cross my legs. Yes boys, the chastity legs are crossed sorry not sorry.

He puts the papers back down on the table. "It's a psyche report for James Beddingfield. Name ring a bell?"

Oh shit. Don't you dare fucking cry you little bitch oh there you go. Yeah just don't like sob okay because oh too late. Wow the table looks really comforting to lean on right now.

I feel a warm hand between my shoulder blades. If I look between my arm and the table I can see Sammy's moved his seat next to mine. I should probably hit him. But oh god James.

There's a silence. Well, I'm lying there. There's a certain amount of time where I just sort of sob into the table. Super attractive "Jane." Yeah, they're totally gonna think you're off limits now. You're so strong and impenetrable, crying like that.

Okay it's safe now, sit up.

I cradle my chin with my hands, knowing I'm squishing my eyes but not caring in the least.

"Jane, who was James to you?" Sammy says oh-so-nicely. God I want to punch him.

I collapse back into the chair, sliding down and folding my arms again. "What has that got to do with anything? He's dead you idiots."

"We know," Dean says. Wait, did he even? What the hell has James being… mm. What has that got to do with anything?

"Are you insane? What has James got to do with anything?"

"Jane, we'd really appreciate it if you tell us what happened with you two," if Sammy keeps up this innocent little me act I swear to god I'll kill him.

Should I tell them? Well Sammy looks concerned the little twat. Dean just looks super smug and what does it matter? I'm going to die anyway.

I sigh. Wow sighing I should stop that I'll end up like Sammy ew. "He was my boyfriend. We were together like, seven months. Then a few weeks ago, he," I clear my throat. "He, um," oh god just get it out. Deep breaths, there you go. Look up it stops the tears. Oh for god's sake just say it. "He got shot in the head. And he died."

I meet Dean's eyes. God he's so cold Jesus loosen up man. He nods, his face still. There's a little red cut on his cheek bone and a bruise developing on his jaw. Ha. Suck on that you little cu-

"Jane, do you believe in ghosts?" Sammy says, leaning forward. He's so over considerate. God man lay off you're not my mother.

I shrug. "No, but I still get scared they're going to get me, you know? Like I know it's stupid and it's impossible, but I'm still terrified of them."

Dean laughs. Kid you not, he is laughing at me. I want to kill everything right now oh my god.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," is he joking right now oh shit he isn't look at his face that is not the face of someone who is joking.

"Hold on, are you trying to tell me that my boyfriend is a ghost?"

Sammy nods. "Yeah. I know it sounds crazy, but me and Dean, we-"

"No, okay just no," I shake my head. I'm so done with these two right now. "If you're going to kill me, or rape me, or whatever you want to do with me, can you just do it now and get it over with. I'm not going to sit here and let you taunt me like this."

Sammy looks shocked and Dean's laughing again. I whip my head around to him.

"Do you wanna shut the hell up before I hit you again you're really pissing me off right now."

He tries to stop but keeps laughing. "Now, why would we want to kill a pretty little thing like you?"

Don't blush don't blush don't you dare blush oh there you go. "So that just leaves rape, doesn't it?"

"We're not going to rape you," Sammy says like just saying the word's going to make him a bad person. "You're in danger and we don't want you to get hurt."

"Oh, shut up, I'm not an idiot, I can work this shit out," I shunt over to the edge of my chair so I can talk to them at the same time. "I'm old enough to think for myself and I'm not sheltered enough to believe that you genuinely took me by force from the safety of my house to stop me from getting hurt."

But there's something in their eyes the way they're looking at me with this sincerity. Oh my god. "You're not lying," wow was that out loud?

They shake their heads. My shoulders slump. "Oh."

"So are you going to work with us or not?" Dean says, flicking one of the corners of the papers.

Yay hesitation. What's the worst that can happen? They could be lying? Okay so if they are then what am I going to do? Die probably. What if they aren't? Do I stay with them? No, I'd go back to the flat and die anyway. What does it matter, I'm going to die anyway?

"Yeah, what's the worst that can happen?" dying ok shut up you're as bad as they are. "So what's going on, care to explain to me?"

Sammy angles his body and rests an elbow on the edge of the table. He spreads out his fingers on both his hands and holds them together to use for hand gestures. "A few weeks ago James, your ex-"

"Not my ex. We never broke up," oh shit why did I tell them that? Now I seem like a complete weirdo, thinking I'm dating a dead guy. Oh it doesn't matter. I'm going to die anyway.

He looks at me for a second, letting my words sink in. "Yeah, anyway. A few weeks ago, he got shot in the head, right?"

I nod. Wow way to tell me what I already know.

"But he wasn't murdered."

What? "Manslaughter?"

He's shaking his head oh god what is it then? "He shot himself."

Oh hi there floor haven't seen you in a while.

Sammy starts helping me up and sits me back in my chair. I stare into space. James shot himself. But why? His life was perfect. He told me everything, and there wasn't anything going on. Oh god, what if he never told me and I thought he was telling me everything but he wasn't and there were sings I could've read but didn't and oh my god I should've known.

"Pardon?" Sammy's cocking his head what oh god I was mumbling wasn't I?

"Um, I was just thinking, I don't know why he would do that. Like, he told me everything and there wasn't anything wrong as far as I could tell. But then like, there were signs. There had to be. And I missed them and oh god it's all my fault," stop. Fucking. Crying.

Why am I leaning into Sammy's arms he's a smothering idiot but oh he's so warm ugh stop it.

"Hey, it's not your fault," he's stroking my hair oh that's nice no it isn't.

"Well, we don't know that for sure," thanks Dean love you too cunt.

"Dean," Sammy's obviously giving him a nasty look yeah serves you right Dean ugh.

Sammy puts his hands on my upper arms and sits me up oh how sweet I can do that by myself but thanks anyway. "Are you okay?"

I give him a look. Wow hope it's sarcastic otherwise that's gonna suck. "I just found out my boyfriend shot himself in the head and it might be my fault. I'm just spiffing."

Dean does this annoying little high pitched laugh like the one I do oh god am I that annoying when I do it? "You're so English."

"Yeah, funny that."

Sammy smiles a sad smile at me. I just want to slap him so hard.

"So what does this all have to do with me being in danger?"

Dean puts the papers down and leans forward on the table. "He's a ghost now. Well, more of a restless spirit, really. He's been going around killing girls that have been cheating on their boyfriends. Me and Sam here've been tracking him for a while now and that's the only pattern we could pick out. So, we needed to know what started going of like that, some unfinished business, bad experience, something like that. And it lead us straight to you," he points his finger and twists it through the air to point it at me.

My mouth's opening and closing in shock. "Are you trying to imply that I cheated on James?"

He shrugged. Sammy talked so I turned to him. "That would explain why he was targeting girls that were cheating on their boyfriends. He started a little further out of town and he's been working his way slowly closer to your house."

"Oh my god," the crazy thing is that this makes sense. If I ever get out of this I swear I'm going to a psychologist. "Is that why Taylor and Grace and everyone died? Is James the killer?"

They both nod and wow my head's spinning. My ghost – "restless spirit" – ex boyfriend is going around killing people? How the hell does that even begin to happen?

"Oh kay?" I say super-duper slowly because my head is really starting to hurt now. "But, how could James turn into that?" Taylor and Grace had been found completely torn up, particularly around their chests and faces and ya know, their private square. How did James go from the sweet loving boyfriend I knew, to a monster like that?

Sammy shrugged. "We don't know. They only explanation would be if you were cheating on him. You know, the torn up face and, " he clears his throat and sits a little more rigidly. "Yeah. That would be to stop them from using those things to cheat on their boyfriends. And the heart, well-"

"Because he was hurt?" Sammy nods at me and I don't think I can breathe properly. "But, I never did cheat on him. I would never, I loved him," Jesus how could he even think that?

"Well, maybe he thought you were," Dean put in helpfully. "Sometimes spirits like him are just created by a misunderstanding. But we have to figure out how to stop him from killing more girls."

I nod. Oh shit, he'll be coming after me. "So, is he like, going to come for me, next?"

They nod. Dean still emotionless, Sammy regretfully. "So, I need to be bait."

"Hold on," Sammy interjects. "You're not putting yourself in danger like that. I'm not letting you."

"Sammy, you've known me for like half an hour. You can't tell me what I can and can't do. You need to find him and he's coming for me so it only makes sense that you use me as bait!" I'm getting angry now. He's not my fucking father.

"She's right," Dean says, standing up and oh hey so am I look at that. "I'm thinking we just put her in one of the beds. Then one of us stays here while the other goes off to salt and burn the bones."

Sammy bites his lip. "I don't know Dean, what if he hurts her?"

"He won't," Dean says, putting an arm around my shoulders but hell no back up so I hit him away.

"Don't touch me."

He holds his hands up in surrender.

We both look at Sammy. He looks at us then sighs next time he does that I'm going to punch him in the stomach I swear to god. "Fine. Dean, you go after the body, I'll stay here."

Dean goes to protest but nods and looks down at me wow he's tall. "Where's James buried?"

"Uh, in the cemetery just up the road from here. That way," I point up the way we came and he nods, going off into one of the rooms and coming back out with a bag.

"Okay, I'm off. Good luck," he says and Sammy nods as he disappears out the door.

We listen to the Impala start up and drive off. Sammy rocks back and forth awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. He's even taller than Dean holy shit. He opens his mouth and holds one of his hands out to me.

"Oh, uh, it's Sam, by the way. Not Sammy."

"Fuck off I'm going to die soon I can call you whatever I want," I should really stop saying these things out loud wow.

He looks taken aback haha bet you weren't expecting that mother fucker. "Uhm, well, you're not, if we can help it."

I shrug. "I'll still call you whatever I want."

He shakes his head and smiles and the ground.

I bite my lip then say it anyway. It doesn't matter, I'm going to die soon anyway. "It's Tav, by the way. Not Jane."

"What?" he looks back up at me.

"Uhm, before, in my flat. I said my name was Jane? It's not. It's Tav."

He laughs. "Where'd you get Jane from?"

"She's my Ma."

He presses his eyebrows together. Before he can question the whole Ma instead of Mum thing I talk over him.

"So which room should I use?"