"So what's the plan here?"

Dean glanced back towards me from the driver's seat of the impala, then over to Sam.

"Well, Sam and I are going in pretending to be insurance agents. Which means you'll have to keep out of sight."

I rolled my eyes. "I'll snoop around outside."

"Fine." Dean looked unhappy as he guided the car around a bend in the road. "Keep in mind we'll probably be out there at some point with the family, and they got a little kid. Little kids like to run around."

"Basically be careful," Sam reiterated.

I nodded. "I know, I know. How long have we been doing this?"

It was a rhetorical question. I knew the answer. I had been hunting with the boys for a little over a year since the Grace Crisis, making it about a year and a half since we had started working together. Currently we were investigating a haunted house somewhere in Alabama, where a family of four lived out in the middle of nowhere in a rickety old house.

Really; a rickety old house in the middle of nowhere. What were they thinking?

They'd been getting for the most part minor experiences with whoever was lingering in their house. The thing was though, the patterns were random. Sometimes things would be getting knocked over, other times the ghost would neatly stack every jar in the cabinets.

That wasn't at the top of our worries though. The other day a repairman had come to fix a leak in the roof, and somehow all the screws in his ladder had come loose. The man had ended up in the hospital with a broken arm and spine.

The official report was blaming it on the ladder. Apparently it was rusty and old, and coincidentally several friends had warned the repairman over the past year that the thing was gonna give. The boys and I knew better.

Dean turned into the driveway. It was long and curving, leading up to a large house. Two stories, with a wraparound porch on the front. Ivy was climbing up the side by the chimney, and bits of white paint still clung to some of the wooden boards of the house. Three large pillars on the front porch held up an overhang, and ivy climbed up these as well. Once, long ago and well painted, I imagined the house had been beautiful. Now it was just sad and a little bit creepy looking.

"Ok." Dean parked the car, glancing around us. "We'll probably start inside, so you should have some time to snoop around outside. Keep an ear open though."

I nodded. "Got it."

Sam and Dean nodded, then they slipped out of the car and made their way up the steps of the porch. Sam knocked twice, and I ducked down in the impala. A moment later a woman came to the door, exchanged a few words with Sam and Dean, and led them inside. She didn't see me.

I slid from the car, glancing up at the sky as I went. It was early evening, the sky just beginning to darken with streaks of pink and purple in the west, highlighting the fading sun.

I took a moment to breathe in the fresh air and then started around the house, edging carefully and quietly. As I went I pulled my EMF detector from my pocket, plugging in the earbuds and holding it ready.

At the back of the house was an old shed, even grungier looking than the house. I took a moment to make sure no one was outside or looking outside from the house, then jogged quickly across the wide yard.

It was an easy matter to pick the lock on the shed. I probably could have just broken it if I'd wanted to; it looked about ready to break on its own.

Inside the shed was a tractor and several toys for a little kid, all looking, surprise, surprise, ready to fall apart. The bike in the corner needed to have one of its chains replaced, and I wasn't sure I wanted to hack my way through the thick blanket of cobwebs to get to the wooden box in the back. Leaning forward though I could just see inside; the box contained sports equipment. Baseball balls and gloves, basketballs, soccer balls, even a couple of footballs. A pair of baseball bats was leaning against the side of the little box, one about the right size for a grown man, the other just big enough for a little boy.

The EMF needle had been spiking the entire time I was on the property, and it didn't rise any higher while I was in the shed. I sighed and left, fitting the lock back onto the door. A moment later I heard footsteps approaching, and with a curse hurried behind the shed, out of sight of the house.

"I'm sorry," said the woman; Mrs. Frea if I remembered correctly. "I'm still not sure why you need to look at my entire house."

"We need to look over the entire house to see what sort of condition it's in," answered Sam. "Just to make sure there weren't any other contributing factors to Mr. Berth's fall."

Peering around the side of the shed, I could just see Mrs. Frea gulp nervously, obviously thinking she had an oncoming lawsuit to deal with. I took a moment to examine her. She was a bit chubby but still pretty, with dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and big brown eyes. From around her hip peeked a little boy of about eight, gazing curiously at Sam and Dean. He had the same hair and eyes as his mother, though I guessed that his reed thin physique came from his father.

"And this is the last thing you need to see?" Mrs. Frea asked.

"Yep," affirmed Dean. "Then we'll be out of your hair."

I couldn't help but wonder if the relieved look that flashed across the woman's face had anything to do with a fear of her latest house guests being targeting by her undead one. Either way she nodded and closed the back door to the house behind her, guiding her son into the next room.

Sam and Dean walked slowly towards me, and after checking to make sure no one else was around I emerged from my hiding place.

"Anything?" asked Sam.

I shook my head. "Not much. There's a bit of EMF, but I'm guessing whatever's going on here is focused inside."

"Yeah," said Dean. "This thing was going crazy." He held up his own EMF detector, then started walking slowly around the shed. "You head back to the car, Sam and I will hang out here for a minute and make it look like we're doing something."

I chuckled and nodded, slipping easily back to the impala. About five minutes later Sam and Dean were back, waving to the curtain that twitched in the front window as they clambered into the car.

"Now what?" I asked as we pulled onto the main road.

"Now we go to the hospital, see if the repairman noticed anything useful," said Sam. "While we're there can you head back to the motel and start researching the house?"

"Sure."

Sam and Dean dropped me off at the motel before heading to the hospital, and I grabbed Sam's computer from the room he was sharing with Dean. Bringing it back to my room, I sighed as I curled up on one of the beds. As I waited for the computer to log on I pulled my phone out of my pocket, checking for messages from Cas.

Nothing.

He had left a few days ago, feeling a need to check in on heaven and make sure everything was going well. I'd made him promise me to call every night, and so far he'd kept his word.

I sighed. I was impatient, not to mention severely missing my boyfriend. He'd spent the majority of his time over the past year with me, and neither of us was used to the separation.

As the computer finished loading I tossed my phone to the side, pulling up the internet. A quick search on the house pulled up an article from about thirty years ago, about a man who had killed himself there.

His name had been Robert Unthur. A mechanic just inside town, he hadn't made much money. The only reason he could live in such a big house was that he had inherited it from his parents. With him lived his wife Valerie and his son Will.

A month before Robert had hung himself his wife and son had up and vanished. No one knew where they had gone. All they knew was that Robert came home one night to an empty house. All of his wife's and son's things had been cleaned out and they were gone. No note, nothing. She hadn't even left her wedding ring.

So maybe it was Robert who was haunting the house. I did a quick search on him; he was buried in the local cemetery. The boys and I could easily burn his bones once they got from the hospital.

It didn't take long for that to happen. About a half hour later they came through the door, loosening their ties and grabbing beers. I chuckled as they started to sprawl into the chairs at the little table in the corner of the room.

"Not yet," I said. "We've got to burn a body."

"You found our ghost?" asked Sam.

I nodded and showed them the computer. "I think so. He's the only person who's died there, so it makes sense."

Dean nodded slowly, skimming through the article.

"What about you guys?" I asked. "What'd Mr. Berth tell you?"

Sam sighed. "Nothing much. The air got a bit cold, then suddenly his ladder collapsed out from under him."

"So he didn't see the ghost?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, then took the computer from Dean and started reading. When he finished he stood and downed his beer, starting for the door.

"Let us get changed quick, then we'll meet you at the car."

I nodded and grabbed my jacket, and ten minutes later we were pulling into a drive through. We ate in the parking lot, taking our time as we waited for the sun to finish setting. Then, once night had completely fallen, we made our way to the cemetery.

The downside to insisting that I work cases was that Dean made me help dig. He manned the flashlight as Sam and I set to work, and I took care to throw my shovelfuls of dirt his way.

After setting fire to the bones we lingered for a few minutes to make sure they continued to burn, then hurried from the graveyard. We knew sooner or later someone would notice the little campfire we'd started, and we didn't want to be around when the cops showed up.

I was just getting out of the shower in my motel room when my phone buzzed, and with a wide grin I grabbed it.

"Hey Angel Dust," I greeted.

Cas's chuckle was low and happy. "Hello," he responded. "How are you?"

I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. "Fine. We just wrapped up a case. What about you? How's heaven doing?"

"Heaven's fine." Cas let out an almost inaudible sigh. "I miss you."

I smiled. "I miss you too. How much longer do you have to stay there?"

"Another day or two. Then I'm all yours."

"Cool. I can't wait."

"Me neither."

For a moment we both were silent, and I put the phone on speaker so I could continue to talk to Cas as I got dressed.

"Are you heading back to the bunker next?" asked Cas.

"I'm not sure. It depends on if we find another case to work. I'll know by the morning."

"Let me know," Cas said. He let out a huff of breath, and I could imagine him finding a quiet place to sit and talk to me undisturbed. "I really don't enjoy the politics," he stated. "I wish that would go away."

I laughed lightly. "Sorry. You should have given me more time to mess with stuff."

Cas was silent for a moment, and I knew we were both thinking back to the Grace Crisis and whatever I had become in those moments. It was still, even after so much time, a delicate subject to broach.

"I'm fine," I reminded him. "Perfectly fine."

Cas sighed on the other end of the phone. "I know," he said. "Still, I worry. What happened, it was- it never should have happened."

I settled back on my bed, curling up under the covers. "Maybe, but it did and there's not much we can do about it. At least we got some good out of the whole thing."

"True."

I could hear the frown in Cas's voice, and knew he was still unhappy.

"I just don't like that you were put in that position to begin with. I should have kept you safe."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't even start. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Let's not forget who pulled who out of a river."

I grimaced even as I spoke; the memory of Cas's near death still rubbed me the wrong way. Now it was Cas's turn to reassure me.

"I survived," he reminded. "We're both fine."

"I know." I chuckled. "Our lives are so messed up."

Cas laughed. "They are," he agreed. "But I wouldn't have things any other way."

I smiled. "Me neither."

There was another pause, and then Cas sighed. "I should go," he said. "I need to get back to heaven."

"Call me tomorrow?"

"Of course. Goodnight Lucy."

"Night Cas."

I flipped the phone shut, then plugged it in and curled up on my side. I was exhausted, and the pillows under my head were feeling pretty comfy. I was moments away from sleep when there was a knock on my door.

"What?" I moaned.

"Lucy, it's Sam, open up!"

I groaned. "I'm trying to sleep!"

"We've got a problem!"

I scowled as I pushed myself up, slowly making my way to the door. "Damn right we have a problem," I called. "I'm trying to—"

I froze as I swung open the door. Sam's face was flushed, and he was breathing heavily.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"The ghost," Sam panted. "I don't know if we had the wrong person or if it's not being kept here by the bones, but it's not done yet. It hurt someone else."

I cursed and shot back inside, grabbing my jacket and phone. "Who?" I asked. "What happened?" My mind flashed to the little boy I'd glimpsed that day.

Don't let it be him, I thought. Please not him.

Sam shut the door to my room behind me as we bolted for the car, which Dean was already putting into gear. "The daughter, Mia, she had her boyfriend over. The ghost knocked him down the stairs."

I winced as I climbed into the impala. "Is he alright?"

Dean glanced back at me, eyes dark and unreadable. "He's dead."