"Because EVERYONE knows that Ranch dressing is the most versatile condiment in the world," replied Dean, turning his head toward his brother and wagging his finger with an excessive amount of passion, "and anyone who tells you different is just a freakin-"

"DEAN, LOOK OUT!"

Just as he watched Sam's eyes stretch with horror, Dean whipped his head toward the road, his own eyes following suit as he punched the brakes. The tires screamed as they decelerated, but at a rate that didn't seem quite fast enough. The vintage car, wheels locked, slid ever closer to the figure that stood glued to the road. The vehicle finally halted, which caused both Winchester brothers to slam forward- Sam into the dashboard, and Dean into the wheel.

"Son of a bitch-" he groaned, touching his fingers to the throbbing spot on his forehead, feeling blood.

Leaning out the window he shouted, "Are you crazy, lady?"

Sam turned to his brother in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me? You almost killed her!"

"Why did the chicken cross the road in the middle of the night?" Dean ejected, "Because it was crazy!"

She remained silent, her portly frame trembling. Her eyes were wide like small moons imbedded into her round, brown face which shined with sweat. Sam took the initiative to be the first to step out of the car. Rolling his eyes, Dean followed as his brother approached her..

"Miss, are you all right?" he asked, extending his hand.

The girl recoiled, letting out a small, frightened peeping sound. Her eyes darted between the brothers before she began to back away. Sam continued to approach, but with a slow caution, presenting his palms. He examined her in her pajamas, robe and bare feet.

"I'm not going to hurt you. We just wanted to know if you were-"

His eyes trailed after her as she bounded across the asphalt, and she disappeared into the tree line beyond the shoulder of the other side of the road.

"Okay..?" Dean piped, raising his eyebrows and poking out his lips.

Sam stayed in his spot, his face holding its own look of bewilderment.

"That was weird…"

"Too bad it's not our kind of weird," Dean said with a tone that dismissed any further involvement.

The driver's side door slammed.

"Come on, Sammy," said Dean to his baby brother, "Lancaster awaits. We got some ghosts to open up a can of whoop-ass on."

As Sam slid into the passenger's seat, he turned to his brother.

"You're just gonna leave her? Obviously, she was running from something. She could need our help."

With a sigh, he replied, "Sammy-Boy, the kind of help she needs involves a padded cell and a few volts of electricity. It's not in our jurisdiction, all right? If it was a beastie-related thing, she probably would have asked us to help her."

With a flick of his hand, he turned on the ignition.

"Damn near wrecked my baby…" he mumbled, stroking the dashboard.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him.

"And she almost got herself hit too," Dean added as he pulled off.

"I don't know, man… I mean, she looked… troubled…"

"If by 'troubled' you mean 'out of her mind' then you're absolutely spankin' right. She was right out of 'Girl, Interrupted' except she wasn't hot like Angelina Jolie… or Winona Rider… More like Brittany Murphy before she had sex with Eminem."

"Dean…" trailed Sam, staring out the window.

"Huh?"

The car slowed into a stop just before a small side road.

"'The Darcy Home'," Sam read from the decrepit wooden sign, which tilted slightly to the left, "Sounds like some sort of…"

"Insane asylum?"

Dean's face twisted into a smug frown as the youngest Winchester scoffed and rolled his eyes, He looked back at the sign, and to the mansion that sat beyond the side road, atop a hill.

"Why does that name sound so familiar?"

His brother sat a hand upon his shoulder briefly before stepping on the gas again.

"Come on, Sam. I'll buy you a cheesesteak."