They eventually reached the drop-off point, taking her inside the bunker, as they called it, calling Kevin from his place at the library.

He came of course, more than a little shocked at the 5"2 girl with flaming red hair in front of him. "That's not natural, right?" he asked, eying her suspiciously.

"…No, it's not. It's a fresh dye job." She replied, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Right, where am I staying-?" she asked, turning around to see the door already shutting. "…Fucking Winchesters." She sighed.

Kevin shrugged. "Well…we'll sort something out." He replied, running a hand through his hair.

"…Okay." She shrugged, heading to the library, before Kevin could even attempt to stop her, finding where he was working on what seemed to be a tablet. "So, Kevin, what do you actually do in here? Is it really as boring as you say it is?" she asked.

"…I translate that tablet into English for the Winchesters and keep the place on lockdown…and I guess now I'm taking care of you until they get back…"

"I'm eighteen, not five. You're not babysitting me." She sighed. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Nineteen. Almost twenty." He shrugged.

She nodded, raising an eyebrow. "…Mm…okay…" she sighed. "Still, where am I going to sleep?" she asked.

"Uh…you could sleep in Sam's room until he gets back?" he shrugged, suddenly spotting the leather of her skirt, as Sam had the previous day. "Do you…usually wear stuff like that?" he asked.

She quickly brushed her skirt down, despite it not having moved. "Uh…mm…I…yeah." She sighed. "Dean already lectured me on it in Missouri so…"

"Why were you in Missouri?" Kevin asked, looking slightly confused.

She yawned, bored. "Because we came from Connecticut, specifically New Haven." She replied, stretching again. "I'm…gonna go watch some TV or something, try to get my mind off of what happened. You can join me if you want…since we're going to be living together for god knows how long, I'd like to get to know you. At least a little." She smiled, fiddling with the ends of her shoulder-length hair.

"Maybe later. Dean'll kill me if I don't translate this tablet." He replied, watching her midriff. "…How do you know them, anyway? Sam was vague about how they'd know an eighteen year old…"

Megan shrugged. "Eh…They used to babysit me when I was little…like, three or four." 'Hell, even when I was twelve I'd see them…' she thought to herself.

"I wouldn't pick them to do that sort of stuff-" he replied, staring at her disbelievingly.

She smiled. "They were young. Sam was about fifteen, I'd say…he was always just a little more compassionate. He encouraged me to pursue my education, anyway."

"Ah? College and stuff, yeah?" he asked, crossing his arms.

She nodded. "I went to Yale, biomedical science…wanted to be a doctor, but I guess that's a long way off now…"

Kevin coughed at the mention of Yale, eyes wide. "Yale? How'd you get to-?"

"Worked hard, got Sam's advice on how to get through high school while moving so often." She replied, rubbing her neck. "I'm…gonna go watch TV now."

Kevin nodded, quickly heading back to his translating, a little shocked, and more than a little curious. He decided not to press it though, thinking she'd be confused and tired anyway, since she came from Connecticut.

After about an hour of silence in the bunker, he decided to finally actually ask her. "Hey, Megan?" he called, pushing his chair back and stretching.

She came out of Sam's bedroom after a minute, shirt a little ruffled, hiked up a little to show the tiniest sliver of skin. "Yeah? Is this about dinner?" she asked, yawning a little.

"Ah…no. How did you graduate?" he asked, feeling slightly stupid.

Megan frowned. "Really?" she sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I…saved up some credits from classes at the local community college in Atlanta and graduated early using those."

"How old were you, considering you…graduated Yale?" he asked.

"Fifteen, sixteen, maybe? I don't remember very well, anyway." She shrugged. "Why so curious?"

Kevin shrugged. "Just curious…you should probably go nap, dinner's a long while off. We'll probably order pizza or something. One thing though, why were you in Atlanta?"

"I was in Atlanta because that's where I decided to stay for high school while my dad took care of some…business in Oregon…" she coughed, rubbing her arms.

Kevin nodded again. "Ah…what kind of business?" he asked. He felt almost as if he were venturing into sensitive territory.

"I'd really rather not say, to be honest with you. It's…kind of personal. You can ask Sam if you want. Or Dean. Just ask them." She mumbled, turning around and heading back to Sam's room, feeling more than a little awkward.

Kevin sighed, deciding to go back and translate, despite his not being able to concentrate properly, too many questions racing through his head. He could always just ask Sam or Dean, but he'd feel like he was prying…which he was, if he was honest with himself.

Meanwhile, Megan was textingSam, asking him a few questions about Kevin, and why a twenty year old wasn't at college.

|Sent: Sammy! :D, 7:09pm

Why isn't Kevin at college or something? He seems smart enough

She waited a couple of minutes, watching some historical drama on CW, before her phone buzzed.

| Received: Sammy! :D, 7:12pm

He's a prophet and…he didn't exactly take the exams he needed to to be considered

She stopped replying, feeling slightly guilty for, in her eyes, rubbing her degree almost in his face, tempted to apologise but feeling that it would be too weak. She decided to just live and let go, keeping her eyes trained on the screen, brushing her hair out of her face, almost regretting dyeing it such a bright colour, feeling as if it were just another memory of her now dead-on-the-floor-of-her-old-apartment roommate/best friend. She half cursed herself for not grabbing her friend, leaning back into Sam's pillows, which were as comfortable as she expected them to be.

She felt stupid, like she should have done more. She knew there was a rumour about her former home being haunted, but she, not Manda, ever took it seriously enough to reconsider, which, upon hindsight, was the worst thing Megan could have done. She knew what Dean always said to her when she was looking at apartments; don't go to the haunted ones. But it was so pretty…

"Meggy, we're just trying to keep you safe." Sam sighed into the phone, finding the girl's insistence on this particular apartment to be annoying at least.

"But Sammy, it's so pretty! All crowning on the walls and I haven't seen a trace of any violent deaths or anything! Please?" she asked, and he could almost see her pouting.

"Meggy…it sounds dangerous, but if you're that set on it, let Dean come and take a look at it, okay?" he frowned.

She would be the first one to admit, Sam was definitely right about the apartment. There was a ghost there, and a violent one, and now her best friend was irrevocably dead. Gone. Cold. Blue.