Omg, long fricking chapter, I will never do anything so long again. My eyes hurt from editing. So, I've been watching season four of Supernatural, and I've got to say it's going to be a good season. The new episodes are great inspiration for this story.


Chapter Three: Ill Prospect

The rain poured down like needles on the blades of green grass. It was a gloomy day, appropriate enough for the date. Today marked the day of David Lucas Perry's funeral. A throng stood around the grave: aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents. Some were crying, others extremely quiet. The minority who were quiet were David's mother, father and two brothers. They stood silent, radiating no emotion.

Sara glanced at them every so often, confused at the fact that they were motionless while their son or brother lay in the glossy wooden casket in front of them.

She, along with Jamie, attended the funeral which took place three days after the incident. An accident of self-defense, the police called it. Jamie stood beside Sara, very silent, even more than usual. Sara came to the funeral more as support to her friend rather than anything else.

Sara Collins took the whole week paid-vacation to keep Jamie from feeling any sense of solitude while she coped. It was the worst time to leave her alone; she wouldn't be a good companion if Sara did the contrary. With staying longer than she thought, she called Andy to inform him. He wasn't happy about the situation but he didn't argue. Sara was careful to explain what had happened; she didn't want to worry Andy in any way.

Jamie Leslie had been the same since that fateful night: solitary and silent. Arguments were spoken between the two women about what really happened to David Perry. Jamie was stubbornly cynical about the demon idea despite Sara's refusal that there was no other explanation. Nevertheless, Sara still placed Sam and Dean Winchester's cell phone numbers onto the refrigerator for precautions. Jamie couldn't refuse.

"His parents aren't very responsive," Sara whispered between the priest's declamations.

Jamie glanced over at the group. "Their family was never really close."

Sara nodded her head in understanding. She thought about changing her target in conversation. "Feel free to not answer this, but why didn't you mention David to me?"

Jamie sighed. "It wasn't a serious relationship and we didn't go out for very long. I felt no need to mention it, it wasn't important at the time. And the way he was acting lately—there was no reason to boast about it."

"Hm." Sara didn't know what else to say to that, she did comprehend Jamie's reasoning. Quiet again, Sara turned her attention back on the priest.

"Let God guide this young man to the gates of Heaven where all his sins will be forgiven. May you rest in peace," the priest spoke. "Our Father..."

"Who art in heaven...," everyone continued to say, placing their palms together in prayer.

The two women kept their hands down. Neither of them was faithful to any variety of religion. They merely watched as the group said the Our Father.

Slowly, the wooden casket began to lower down into the grave as the prayer continued. Jamie stepped forward, the bouquet of flowers in her hands slightly trembling. She dropped the bouquet into the grave, where it landed onto the surface of the casket.

When the prayer was concluded, everyone at the funeral began departing. Jamie stood in front of the grave, silently sulking. Sara gazed at her, her brows furrowed with worry. What was she to say? She couldn't imagine what emotions were bottling up inside her at that moment.

Sara placed a hand on Jamie's shoulder, squeezing it affectionately. "Jamie, you okay?" It was a stupid question, Sara had to admit, but there was nothing else she could ask. She was concerned about Jamie; she wouldn't be staying a week from home if she wasn't.

Jamie looked away from the grave, her eyes averting to Sara's. They glistened in the lack of sunlight, red all around the iris. Staring back to the ground, she nodded her head, slowly, to answer the question. "I just want to go home."

"C'mon." Sara placed her arms around her, leading her toward her parked vehicle. "We'll relax at your place and if you want I'll make some soup. We can watch old movies all night. What do you say?"

The corner of Jamie's lips twitched, forming into half a smile. "Distractions sound so good right now."

It continued to rain throughout the week, not a single peek of the sun was seen. The skies were bleak, the roads wet, no child inside went out to play.

Sara gazed out of the window, observing the droopy environment outside. She skewed her eyes in order to see each individual rain droplet.

No longer did the two speak about David Perry and the demon possession. Out of respect, Sara did not mention it once, maybe that way the mending part after the dramatic event would heal faster. However, the elapsing time was cobbling Jamie. She seemed to smile a little more each day, but they were empty expressions of emotion. Sara tried not to approach the subject, afraid to make matters worse for her. Instead, she held her cool, sarcastic humor to encourage Jamie to act her old self and to be happy once again. But that would take days, weeks for things to be forgotten.

Sara turned her head away from the window, looking down at her pink watch buckled on her left wrist. It was past four o'clock. The two had lost track of time.

"Hungry?" Sara asked.

Jamie took her eyes away from the movie giving on her television screen. "A little."

"I'm in the mood for gross, greasy fast food. How about you?"

Jamie shrugged, her attention immediately back on the movie. "Sure. There's a Wendy's across the park a few blocks from here." Absently, she began stroking the head of Buster, whom lay sprawled at the foot of her sofa.

Sara pulled herself from the couch, stretching out the tightness in her muscles. "I'll get it since you appear lazier than me. What do you want?"

"Cheese burger, fries, whatever."

"Your enthusiasm is suffocating." Jamie laughed a little making Sara smile. She grabbed her coat from the hanger. "Do you have an umbrella I can borrow?"

Sitting up from her laid back position, Jamie stared at her sternly. "You're not walking in the rain, are you?"

"If it's just across the park, then why not? Gas is expensive. I'm not wasting it on a mere few blocks."

Jamie lay back again. "Cheap."

"Says the one I'm buying lunch for," Sara retorted. "Now where's the umbrella-ella-ella-eh—"

Interrupting Sara's rendition of the song Umbrella by the songstress, Rihanna, Jamie answered. "It's in the closet by the front door, Rihanna."

"—Eh-eh, under my own umbrella!" Sara sang, entering into the foyer and pulling an umbrella from the closet's depths. "I'll be back quick times."

Sara stepped out, opening up the umbrella and looming it over her as the rain poured down. She pursed her lips in protest, throwing the hood from her hoody over her head and tightening her brown leather jacket. Looking both ways, Sara quickly crossed the street toward the neighborhood park. A place normally filled with screaming, delightful children, had become empty because of the heavy rainfall. She felt her shoes sink in the muddy grass with each step she took. She grimaced at the squishy sound, gritting her teeth when she stepped into a puddle, her left sneaker drenched. It was sickeningly cold when the water seeped through her sock.

"Lovely," she muttered sarcastically.

Sara continued on, passed the set of swings when she felt the wind become stronger. She heard the movement of the swings' chains caused by the sudden breeze. The sound briefly brought up some nerves considering it was a recognizable noise heard from many horror flicks she had watched in the past. It was extremely quiet, there was nobody around and now she began hearing noises other than the chains. She turned her body, switching her vision from the playground, to the walkway and trees. There was not a figure near and Sara shook her head, disappointed with herself. Turning back, Sara wrapped her arms around her, the umbrella squished between her body and arms, as she felt the temperature lower.

Another noise broke the silence. Sara perked up her ears, her senses heightened to hear another strange noise that followed right after the one before. Paranoia struck through her, causing her to spin right around and observe the area once again. She had a strange feeling about the place, almost as if she was being followed. But, again, there was nothing there. Not one sign of life.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Sara, seriously, you're losing your mind," she whispered to herself.

Continuing forward, Sara stopped abruptly when she heard the whisper of her own name. She turned back at that instant.

A young woman stood at a far distance from her, smiling a sadistic smile. The woman giggled. Her laugh seemed to contain no humor but amusement. Sara turned away and began walking faster. The woman slightly freaked her out and considering her surroundings, she wanted to be anywhere but here. The laughing from the girl became a whole lot audible, almost as if it were projected by a microphone. Before Sara knew what she was doing, she looked behind her to see if the woman was still there. The area was clear once again, the woman was no longer standing at the distance. Sara wondered if the woman was only a figment of her imagination. It was quiet once again besides the continuous rain. Sara took one final observation behind her before turning back forward.

Sara stopped instantly. A figure stood in her way, a figure of a man. Frozen with uncertainty, Sara stared up at him with eyes wide.

The man smiled, his head tilted to the side. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, his short ember hair blowing slightly in the wind.

Instinct told her run, to turn away, get the hell out of there. Fearfully, Sara turned around to run the other direction, however she ceased her steps. The woman was there again, with that same sadistic grin.

"Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

Sara turned back to the man, her grip on the umbrella tightening so much her own knuckles were turning white.

The man's smile widened. He closed his eyelids for a second before opening them again. His pupils had dilated, turning ebony black, engulfing the colour of his once grey irises.

Sara's jaw dropped opened. Those were the same eyes that David had. Were those the eyes of a demon? She didn't want to take any chances. Whether he was a demon or not, Sara still had no reason to trust the man. With his ebony eyes as her evidence, she assumed he was another creature from Hell. How she wished she had the Winchester's cell numbers at that instant.

She took a step back. "Shit...," she cussed, "not you things again, what do you want from us?"

The demon took a step forward. "It's not what we want; it's what he wants to do with you."

"Stay back! I'm warning you!"

Ignoring her threat, the demon continued forward. At that moment, Sara turned back once again. Running off sounded like the best deal, especially since the girl was at a far distance. Dodging her would be the easiest thing Sara would have to do. But as she turned around, the woman who was standing a far distance a second ago, now stood in front of her. Sara's eyes widened with disbelief.

The woman's orange hair blew in the wind, revealing her black demon eyes. She placed a finger to her lips. "Shhh..."

Suddenly, a hand was placed over Sara's mouth, an arm wrapped around her in a lock. Sara dropped her umbrella, crying out under the demon's hand. Instinctively, she rammed her elbow violently into the man's stomach behind her. The demon let her go.

"Back off!" she shouted.

The woman quickly threw a punch across Sara's cheek and another into her gut. These had to be the most painful hits Sara had ever taken, more powerful than a mere human can throw. She felt like she was about to throw up.

"This could have been so much easier for you, if you just complied."

Sara was thrown to the ground when one of them kicked her in the ribs. She recoiled in pain.

"Are you going to sit still, like a good little girl?" The woman knelt down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder blade. A burning sensation filled Sara's back. She cried out. The woman's smile widened. "Here's something to remember us by."

"Missy."

The woman stopped, looking up at the male demon that addressed her. "What?"

"Cops..."

The woman, Missy, looked toward the side streets, pursing her lips in disappointment. "Aw, that's no fun."

A police cruiser, which had been driving by, quickly yielded. An officer and his partner stepped out of the vehicle in alarm. "Hey!" they shouted.

"We need to go," the male demon said sternly.

"What about the girl?"

"Leave her; we have more opportunities to deal with her privately."

Before Sara knew it, the two demons began running, the orange hair the only thing Sara could see through the rain. She could barely move, barely hold herself to keep consciousness. Sara couldn't tell whether any bone was broken, couldn't tell if she was bleeding internally or externally. She had no idea. The pain was suffocating, making her ignore her other senses that alerted her about the solution that had arrived, the two police officers that ran to help her.

Sara closed her eyes when her vision began to blur, to force them to refocus again. She opened them. For a second, it worked, but the blur and the dizziness returned shortly after.

"Ma'am? Ma'am?" An officer tried to create contact but Sara was too concentrated in bringing back her focus rather than listening to anyone. "Richards, get an ambulance down here and back up to look for those two suspects."

"Okay." The officer began retreating back to the police cruiser to communicate through the radio.

"Ma'am, you're going to be all right. We're getting an ambulance to come by to take you straight to the hospital."

Sara wasn't hearing it; she was too frustrated in keeping her eyesight leveled that she hadn't realized the man by her side. Not only was her vision blurry and out of balance, but she began seeing little black dots, and at every blink she took, they got bigger. The sound of rain pouring down sounded distant now, Sara wondered if she was dying, or merely just about to pass out. Before she realized what was what, black overclouded her vision and she could no longer hear anything.

--

Jamie tossed the yellow tennis ball across the living room again, watching Buster run to go fetch it. She tapped the cordless phone, which lay in her hand, against her chin continuously, thinking.

Sara hadn't comeback, and Jamie couldn't figure out how long it's been, except that she should have been back a while ago. She tried calling, texting, anything, but there was never an answer or reply. Worried was an understatement, Jamie was suffering through strengthening concern.

Buster walked back towards its owner, ball in between his teeth. Dropping the ball to the floor, the dog rested his head on Jamie's lap, noticing her lowering mood.

With one hand, Jamie began dialing Sara's number again while the other stroked Buster's head. She listened to it ring when suddenly the doorbell rang. Bursting with relief, Jamie jumped on her feet and ran to the door. Immediately her expression fell when she realized it wasn't Sara at all.

Two police officers stood tall before her, their arms folded behind their backs. It doesn't take a genius to realize something had gone wrong.

"Are you Jamie Leslie?"

"Yes. Is everything all right?"

"Do you have any connections to Sara Collins?"

Jamie's face paled, her expression startled. "What happened?"

"There was an accident. She was attacked."

"Is she okay? Where is she?" Her questions were frantic.

"It's okay, Ms. Leslie, Sara was sent to the local hospital where she is being treated."

"Take me there, please." Jamie requested urgently, her heart already beating very quickly.

The officers gazed at her look of apprehension, recognizing the urgency in her voice. One of them sighed. "Very well."

"Thank you. Just let me get my keys."

Jamie jogged away from the door in a hurry toward her living room. She opened the side door to let Buster out, locking it after him before going to the kitchen. She grabbed her keys that lay dormant on the kitchen counter. As she walked by, passed the fridge, she slowed to an immediate stop. She glanced at its exterior, her eyes trailing to the piece of paper hanging by one magnet. Jamie could recall the memory of Sara placing the numbers on the fridge.

"I'm placing this here, and don't you dare take it down. I'm not saying demons are real, because of course that's ridiculous—from your point of view. But give them a chance, Ms. Skeptical. We don't know if this won't happen again."

Jamie prayed for this to never occur again. But how was she to know that Sara's attacker—dare she say it—was a demon? Something inside her whispered that there was a connection. It could be a false alarm if she called, but if it wasn't, it was only a matter of time until the demons would comeback to finish them off. Sara was possibly in bad condition with one attack; Jamie wasn't going to give them a second chance to hurt her.

She pulled the piece of paper away from the fridge, stuffing it inside her pocket and she ran to the front door.

The officers took her without a word to the hospital they said Sara was being withheld. Jamie had been sitting in the backseat of the cruiser, thoughtful for the entire drive. One of the officers saw the worry on her face, and tried to reassure her everything was going to be okay. They said they would find the attackers. Jamie only listened but did not answer them. There was nothing she could say that would give a positive result.

Everything couldn't be okay. Sara was in the hospital, hurt. There was nothing that could make that okay.

Hours later, Jamie was pacing back and forth inside the white waiting room. She called once she got to a payphone at the hospital. She had been waiting for hours, for the guys and for the doctor to just speak to her. Her heart was beating rapidly and she had no way of calming it down. The officers told her not to worry, but it was difficult not to when she realized that they were not telling her the whole truth about Sara's condition, in order to keep her from panicking. But Jamie wasn't stupid and she knew the truth. She wanted to know how serious it really was.

"Jamie!"

She looked up when addressed, watching as two men ran toward her. She felt a great sense of relief along with the feeling of security when she recognized their young faces. They had not changed since the first time she saw them. She could already decipher who was who. Sam was the taller one, the one with the longer dark brown hair. Dean was the much shorter of the two, his short brown hair was lighter than Sam's, probably tinted with the blond he inherited from one of his parents.

"We got here as fast as we could," Sam informed.

Dean reached his side. "Is she okay?"

Jamie could not tell how far they might have been when she called. She might have been skeptical, but all suspicions seemed insignificant at the moment. The concern marked on their faces was reassuring and made her wonder whether she need not be so assertive towards assumptions. Jumping into conclusions didn't seem necessary now that they were here in order to keep Sara and her safe; after all, they have saved Jamie's life from David's strange act of violence toward her.

However, after all thoughts and Jamie realized she was asked an important question, she frowned. "I don't know. They won't let me see her yet."

"What happened?" Sam asked in a subtle voice.

Jamie sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and gazing at the floor tiles. "She was attacked." As silly as it may have been, Jamie felt responsible. She let Sara go out in the rain, didn't lift a finger to suggest she come with her, maybe then there might have been a chance of no confrontations with the attacker. Jamie didn't know what to think anymore. Was she better off to have stayed at home or would she have been worse if she went with Sara?

Dean's brows furrowed. "What? By who?"

Jamie shook her head with the lack of knowledge she knew on the situation. "I—I really don't know."

Before another word could be put in, a doctor entered the room. All conversations aside, Jamie's attention stuck to the man, immediately recognizing him as the doctor who has been treating Sara. Washed away from doubt and gaining hope, Jamie approached the doctor instantly, Sam and Dean following right after, curiosity motivating the two forward.

"How is she?" The question had slipped out of Jamie's mouth before any thought.

The doctor, who had been conversing with the receptionist, turned. He recognized Jamie as Sara's close friend who had been in the hospital for many hours waiting for some good news. He adjusted his glasses before answering. "She's not in a too serious, critical condition—just a few bruises, slight lacerations. All she needs is a good rest and to take it easy for a couple of days."

"Can we see her?" Dean inquired before Jamie could.

The doctor sighed. "Seeing your concerned faces, I guess I can't stop you." He smiled slightly. "I'll lead you to her room."

It was quiet during the walk there, excluding the whispers Jamie could hear behind that were being exchanged between the two men. She couldn't help but eavesdrop and find that things they were saying didn't sound so ridiculous anymore. The word "demon" was said a lot through their conversation.

The doctor then stopped in front of a white door. "Well, here's the room. I recommend you call in a nurse or me if she wakes up. She could go into a state of panic because of the unfamiliar atmosphere."

"She's asleep?"

"Unconscious to be exact, had been since she was brought in. The rest will do her some good though." The doctor turned the doorknob, opening the door for the three.

Jamie entered in first with haste, wanting so badly to see Sara's condition rather than hear it first hand.

Sara lay atop a bed, sheets over her body and hooked up to a heart monitor, the steady beeps were her measured heartbeats. Jamie bit her lip when she saw the change of colour on certain areas of Sara's face. There was a dark purple and blue bruise just underneath her left eye, on her cheekbone. Her lip was split open.

She was sure there were more injuries around her body.

"Take as long as you like." The doctor closed the door behind Dean and Sam, going about his business.

Jamie took a step forward, her eyes never leaving Sara's face. She inhaled a shaky breath, placing a hand over her mouth. "Sara, my God, I shouldn't have let you go off by yourself. This is my fault."

Sam stepped toward Jamie, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This isn't your fault, don't pin the responsibility on you."

"I already have..."

The time elapsed as Jamie sat there on the chair beside the bed, waiting for Sara to wakeup, but there was no lift of her eyelids. Dean and Sam stood by her, in hopes of comfort, support and even protection. She deafened her ears when they spoke to one another about the situation, she couldn't hear the word "demon" anymore. She thought of it enough for the past hours. In fact, Jamie began losing track of time. So confined in her thoughtful mind, she didn't realize how long she had been sitting there, waiting. She was growing tired, begging for her eyelids to not betray her and shut. However, it was long before Jamie noticed she had already fallen asleep.

"It's quiet out there," Dean mentioned as he stared out the window into the black night. "I don't think we will be expecting any visits."

"Do you really think this could be another demon attack?" Sam asked.

He had no earlier premonitions of the two women this time, he was certain they would be safe from now on, but it was no longer likely. Sam was worried, now he couldn't be prepared for what would happen next.

Dean leaned away from the window. "Maybe." He turned his attention to the bed, to Sara's sleeping figure. "If they were, they beat her down pretty bad. Poor girl, she probably got those injuries for fighting back."

Sam sighed, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Almost two in the morning."

Sam glanced over at the chair by Sara's bed, seeing that Jamie had already drifted off. "Jamie seems really exhausted; maybe we should take her home."

"Take my car." Dean pulled out his keys and threw them to his little brother. "I'll stay here incase Sara wakes up. She'll be able to tell us if it was a demon this time too."

Nodding, Sam shoved the keys inside his pocket. He made his way to the chair, kneeling down to shorten his height. "Jamie," he whispered, placing a hand on her arm. "C'mon, I'll take you home, you can sleep comfortably there."

Jamie couldn't open her eyes and she decided not to persist. She could barely pay attention to what Sam was saying that all she could do was mumble: "Okay."

There wasn't enough exertion for Jamie to use to be able to walk downstairs and toward the black Impala sitting, parked on the parking lot. Sam decided to let her sleep. He hesitated at first as he slid his arms underneath her and lifted Jamie up with not an ounce of difficulty. He made his way to the door.

"If I see one scratch on that car—"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

Dean pursed his lips as he left the door. "You better know," he mumbled to himself.

Instinctively, he replaced Jamie's seat.

A few odd stares here and there but they ceased away once Sam had gotten through to the exit. Searching for the Impala proved quite difficult when it was pitch black outside, but when Sam saw the glistening of the metal rims, he recognized it immediately. It took a few tries before Sam could get the key inside the passenger door to unlock it, but once the mission was accomplished, he laid Jamie on the passenger seat, buckling on her seatbelt. Closing the door, he went to the driver's side. Sam lowered the volume as Dean's mullet rock music began engulfing the silence when he turned on the car and reversed out of the parking lot.

Dependent on his memory, Sam followed the roads he remembered in order to get to Jamie's neighborhood street. A couple of turns were missed but eventually he found the street sign.

When Sam stopped the Impala at the side of the road, Jamie began to wake up, yawning and rubbing her eyes. It took her a moment to realize where she was. She looked at her house ahead.

I must have fallen asleep at the hospital.

She breathed in sharply and looked over at Sam before slightly smiling. "Want to come in for coffee?" she suggested awkwardly.

Sam grinned in return. "Sure."

The two exited the vehicle and entered the house.

"Make yourself at home," Jamie inquired as she walked toward the kitchen.

Sam took a seat at the sofa, feeling at a little unease. He didn't understand why at first, and he wasn't quite interested to find out.

"So, you and Dean, are you brothers?" Jamie questioned as she walked into the room, feeling more energized.

"Uh, yeah."

"Speaking of Dean, where is he?"

"He decided to stay back at the hospital, you know, just incase Sara wakes up."

"I have to thank you for coming down here." She took a seat across from him on a sofa chair. "I was scared out of my mind; I didn't know what to do. I'm glad Sara saved your number. To be honest, I'm still a little skeptical about this demon business."

Shrugging, Sam smiled slightly. "That's not really surprising, I mean, you've probably learned to believe that what we...hunt—as in ghosts or demons—are utterly imaginative and don't exist in this world."

"I can't say I'm so sure ghosts don't exist but I have to say that demons sound sketchy to me. Sara tried to convince me on the subject."

"She's more of a believer, huh?"

"More on the fact that she is looking for something to blame on all things terrible and or unexplainable on this earth."

"That's understandable. So, her thoughts are what convinced you to call us?"

"Yes and no. I was afraid of believing that demons are real that I called you two to prove that what happened to Sara had nothing to do with a demon, it was just a freak accident. Plus, I guess, since you have saved us once, I felt safer if you guys were here again."

Sam and Jamie locked gazes for a moment at her confession. However, Jamie broke the lock, standing up abruptly.

"I'll check if the coffee's done."

Sam nodded, watching her movements as she left the room. He slouched in his seat. He could only imagine what Dean could be thinking in his absence.

--

Besides an awkward check up by a nurse, it was fairly quiet in the room. Dean began rubbing his chin as he gazed into Sara's face. She was lucky it hadn't begun to swell.

There wasn't any proof that this was a demon attack but Dean's gut instinct said otherwise. The question was: what does this demon—or demons want? A possibility would be for the demon to change hosts, but what was so special about these women? It was likely that demons had an attraction to wanting an appealing host; however, Dean wasn't so sure. Demons possessed humans that were emotionally distressed or had an addiction, a human that had some sort of weakness.

Dean stood from his seat, walked to the window and looked out. He half-expected to see some sort of movement out there, or some sort of existence. There was neither.

He turned back to the bed, the moonlight behind him brightening Sara's face. Dean furrowed his brow when he noticed something. He stepped forward, leaning down as he observed Sara's face. There was an imprint on her bruised cheek. Probably caused by a ring on the fist of the attacker, but it appeared to be a strange symbol, somehow familiar.

Dean brought his fingers to the imprint when he suddenly pulled back from the flicker of Sara's eyelids.

Eyes opened wide, they darted from left to right. She was breathing heavily, startled. She jolted up right, her body shaking, becoming panicky.

"Sara." Dean placed a hand on her shoulder.

"No, don't!"

Sara didn't know who was speaking to her and she immediately slapped the hand away. She attempted to stand up.

"Sara, calm down!" Dean said, trying to hold her. The heart monitor connected to her began to beep wildly. Her heartbeat was beating at a frightened rate. "It's just me!"

Sara slowed her defiant movements, finally gazing into Dean's face. Her expression changed from fear to confusion. She recognized him with a startled realization. "Dean?" she said. "What are you doing here? Where am I?" Her eyes began darting around again.

Dean grinned in spite of himself. "You remember me," he said in a boastful voice.

"Where am I?" Sara asked again. "What are you doing here back in Colorado?" At least she hoped she was Colorado. She wasn't so sure.

Expression now serious, Dean answered. "You're in the hospital. Jamie called us down, she was worried about you."

Sara sighed. "Sounds like Jamie." Absently, she began rubbing her forehead. She felt a pulsing pain. "Man, I have the worst headache right now, feels like I've been hit by a bus."

"Want me to call in the doctor?"

"No!" Sara said suddenly. Recognizing Dean's sudden draw back from her rash hysteria, Sara calmed. "No doctors, I can't stand doctors."

Dean gave a nod in understanding, sitting back down on the chair. "Okay, no doctors."

"Thank you," Sara whispered and leaned her back against the head board of the bed. "How long have I been out?"

"A while."

Sara closed her eyes, inhaling.

"Jamie said you were attacked. Do you remember anything?"

She nodded. "There were two of them this time. Their eyes were pitch black and their punches were extra painful than what could be considered normal. I'm sure they left a beautiful mark on my face."

Dean grinned slightly. "They sure did." Sara only smiled. "Do you remember what they looked like—what they wanted?"

"The girl—all I can remember is her orange hair, her name started with an 'M' or something."

"And the other one?"

"A man."

Dean was silent.

Sara frowned, and felt her paranoia return just like it had been when she was walking in that secluded park. "They're...they're still out there, aren't they?"

"Unless the cops know how to do my job, then, yeah, they're still out there."

Sara furrowed her brow in worry.

"Don't worry about a thing. Sammy and I are here now. We'll protect you." Dean sent a charming smile.

"Where are Sam and Jamie?"

"Sam went to take Jamie home. I can't tell what's going on there though, but I'm sure Sammy has it under control."

--

Sam didn't understand why he was feeling uncomfortable around Jamie. It couldn't be her attractive features, as beautiful as she was. That, he knew for sure. And it wasn't like Jamie was hinting at any attraction she had to him. It had something to with the way she mentioned the sensation of feeling safe with Dean and him being around. Sam knew this uncomfortable feeling had to do with Jessica Moore's death, but he avoided the connection. Jessica felt safe whenever Sam was sleeping beside her at night, but that one night, that one night he wasn't there...Sam stopped the thoughts from escalating.

Jamie returned to the living room with a tray of two coffee mugs and a bowl of sugar. She placed it on the glass coffee table.

"Thank you."

She nodded. "We'll need it."

Jamie took a seat beside Sam, curling her legs underneath her. It was silent for a moment. Sam looked for a thing to say, but from the lack of information he knew about Jamie, Sam had no way of starting a conversation.

"Does your job ever get tiresome?"

Jamie had been the one to break the ice. It was strange really; it was like the same sensation as being on a first date with a person you barely knew.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, wondering about the meaning of her question.

Jamie looked up at him from her warm mug in her hands. "You travel a lot to hunt, right? Don't you ever want a normal life?" Sam looked away from her, thinking. "I don't mean to pry, I was just—I don't want to butt in your business or anything."

Samuel was still thoughtful as she spoke. He always wanted a normal life, that's why he left, that's why he ran off to Stanford and stayed away from his family for almost two years. But he realized that staying away from who he was was absolutely impossible.

Parting his lips, Sam was ready to answer. Unfortunately, canine barks erupted through the silence from the side door that led to the backyard. The two craned their necks to the door.

Jamie clicked her tongue. "I should bring Buster inside, he must be hungry."

She stood from her seat, placing the mug of coffee back on the tray.

A loud crash interrupted Jamie's movements suddenly. Buster's cry followed shortly after. A cry of agony, it sounded. The same squeak dogs made if you stepped on their tail or paw, or even worse.

Reluctant, Jamie questioned the sounds. Strange it might have been, but there was nothing that was stopping Jamie from walking toward the door.

"Buster?"

Sam had already jumped to his feet in caution. Something wasn't right. That cry wasn't normal.

"Jamie, wait!"

She already opened the door before he reached behind her. Jamie froze, stunned, her eyes wide, her heart breaking.

"Jesus Christ...," Sam whispered in response, awestruck.

The body of Buster hung from a noose, mutilated; swaying from the wooden branch of a tree it hung from. Into the bark of the tree, a message was engraved, carved deeply with a possible blade:

New friends can't save you

Taking Jamie's arm, Sam pulled her behind him.

"Jamie, get back inside."

--

"Did the doctor ever say how long I was going to be locked up in here?" Sara asked, already feeling trapped as she adjusted herself on the uncomfortable mattress.

Dean grinned. "You really don't like hospitals, do you?"

"Is it that obvious?" Sara retorted sarcastically. Shrugging, Dean leaned back on his chair. Sara sighed. Her headache hadn't improved and she was so close to losing her mind. "Do you have any idea what these demons want, for the sake of the changing the subject?"

Resting his elbows on his thighs, Dean leaned away from the backrest of the chair. "I have a theory."

"I'm listening."

"For low-class demons to enter this world they need to control someone, a human being. Kinda like needing protected armor. Demons are very careful who they choose."

"So, it's kind of like The Exorcist, a demon possessing a normal human, right?"

"Sort of, minus the spinning heads and projectile vomit. Anyway, demons search for an attractive host, mostly the females, but until they find that one host, they might possess a temporary one."

"Why an attractive human?"

"It's kind of like a bullet proof vest, you know what I mean?"

"Okay, so what does that have to do with me?"

"Maybe one of the demons wanted your body...as a permanent one."

Sara sent him a careful stare. "If I didn't know any better, Dean, I'd say you were hitting on me."

Dean only returned a charming smile. "Is it working?"

"That's very flattering, considering that I probably look like shit right now, but—"

"Ah, so there's a but."

Sara continued. "—But I already—"

A guitar riff had interrupted Sara's sentence. Dean pulled out his mobile phone from his back pocket, looking at the call display.

"It's Sam," he informed, flipping open his phone.

Sara could hear a slight voice from the speaker but she could not make out what Dean's brother was saying. She only watched as Dean's smug face formed into a very serious expression from what he was hearing on the other line.

"Where are you now?" Dean listened before speaking again. "Did you check if you were being followed?...Keep an eye on Jamie then...Yeah, I'll stick here with Sara just incase they pay a visit here too...You should know me by now Sammy, I come prepared." Dean began feeling for something inside his jacket before pulling his hand away. Dean was silent again, listening. He then hung up his phone.

Hearing the words that were spoken, Sara became anxious to know what had just occurred. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"It appears someone left a...message for your friend."

"A message? I'm afraid to ask this...but what kind of message?"

Dean inhaled before answering. "Jamie's dog was found dead hanging from a tree in her backyard, and a note was carved into the tree."

Sara was now at the edge of her seat. "My God..."—Sara placed a hand over her mouth—"What did it say?"

"New friends can't save you," he answered casually, repeating the message accordingly.

Sara's eyes widened. "New friends...Where are they? Are they safe?"

Dean stood from his seat, striding toward the window. "They're fine. They're staying at a motel."

"What do we do now?"

Dean turned back toward her. "Sam stays with Jamie, I stay with you. We both keep you safe through the night."

It was impossibly difficult for Sara to fall back to sleep even considering how late it was. However, as she looked toward the side of her bed, where Dean sat in his chair, she observed his closed eyes, his steady breathing. He had drifted off.

Sara sat up, wondering how he could just fall asleep at a time like this. Dean probably had many reasons, none that Sara cared to know. All she cared about now was the pain and growls coming from her stomach. Hunger had struck her unexpectedly. Biting her lip, Sara thought if it would be smart to just get up and leave to grab some food.

I'll only be gone for a few minutes, she thought to herself.

Sara stood up silently, disconnecting the heart monitor from her body and slipping out of the sheets that laid over her. It hurt to have her weight back on her two legs, her body still ached, pained by the recent hits that she took. The white hospital gown she wore fell down over her knees. She rummaged through the drawers by the bed, searching through the belongings they placed in her room with her. She found her wallet, taking it out. Sara didn't feel the need to wake Dean up, especially on the fact that he probably traveled many miles on the road to get back to Colorado. Sara slipped out of the door, looking either way. Spotting a vending machine at the end of the hall just by the elevator, she began walking to that direction. She limped at each step, placing her hand on the wall for support. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move. Sara couldn't feel any positive sensation throughout her body. Ignoring the pain, she approached the machine, already entering her money and picking a Hershey's Milk Chocolate Bar. Sara winced as she bent to grab the bar that fell toward the opening.

The hall lights began to flicker.

Sara ceased, standing straight. She turned her head, looking behind her. The hall was still silent and empty. Eventually, the lights did return to normal. Sara studied the hall for a moment before returning to retrieve her chocolate bar.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew past Sara. She stopped all movements. The temperature had dropped also, from what Sara could tell. Out of precaution, Sara stood straight again. She turned around to make sure that everything was still as it seemed.

Her eyes widened as she took sight of what she saw. Sara's heart skipped a beat.

"Hello again."

Sara tried to scream for Dean but a hand had already struck at her neck, keeping a strong hold and cutting off her oxygen.

"You've been getting a lot of help lately, huh, sweetheart? It wasn't very smart to leave your room, now was it?"

Staring into the eyes of the demon that attacked her earlier, she felt herself being lifted from the floor. Sara couldn't kick at him, let alone pry his hand out of his grip. She was running out of time, and she had no idea what to do.

"Take this you demonic sonofabitch!"

Before Sara knew it, she was dropped to the floor. She held onto her neck, her body fragile from the impact to the ground. The demon cried out, his body strangely steaming just like David's had done. Dean stood in front of him, a silver flask in his hand. Dean threw a fist across the demon's face, throwing another toward the opposite side. The demon was thrown back against the wall. Dean ran to Sara's side, helping her stand. She sucked in her breath, tightly closing her eyes as a shock of affliction shot through her limbs.

"Can you stand?"

Sara answered through clenched teeth. "I can try."

Placing her arm around his neck, Dean pulled her weight toward the elevator, pressing the downward arrow button multiple times. The doors drew open and Dean helped Sara inside just as the demon stood away from the wall. Dean began hitting the button to close the doors, attempting to close them before the demon was at arms reach. However, the demon was too close in distance. Dean pulled out the silver flask from within his jacket, spraying the liquid onto the demon once again before the doors closed and the elevator began to move down the floors.

"What the hell did you just throw at him?" Sara asked with disbelief in her words.

"Holy water," Dean replied.

"That's...reasonable."

"We need to get out of here as quick as—" Dean gritted his teeth, remembering. "Shit..."

Sara averted her eyes to him. "What now?"

Dean frowned. "I gave my car to Sam."

Sara frowned in response. "Is there another option?"

Bringing his eyes toward hers, Dean slightly grinned. "I don't think you'll exactly approve of the idea, but there isn't anything else I can think of."

"Trust me; I can accept any crazy idea at the moment. What's the plan?"

"Grand theft auto."

"You're kidding, right?"

The elevator came to an abrupt stop, the doors drawing open to the ground floor.

"I wish I was, sweetheart," he said.

"You can highjack cars too? The things you find out about a guy...," Sara murmured as Dean helped her walk down the narrow hall. "How are we going to get passed security?"

He stopped walking for a moment, thinking. "There's got to be a back door or window somewhere...I think."

--

Sam had sighed with relief when he got off the phone with his older brother. He thought for sure a demon might have gotten to the hospital before he could warn Dean.

It was so odd, really. These demons were after both Jamie and Sara but Sam couldn't see why they were so important to the demon race, especially when they had no idea demons had any existence in this world. The demons couldn't be threatened by these humans that had no logic of this sort of thing.

Sam tried convincing Jamie to get some rest, but she refused at every attempt. The woman was unbelievably upset.

Putting salt on the window sills and doors proved to have left the demons at bay. The demons seemed very resistant that they haven't returned or followed the pair toward the motel.

How long would he have to stay awake until he knew it was safe?

Sam took a seat beside Jamie on the queen sized bed. Her knees were hugged at her chest, her sights on the floor beneath her. Every ounce of her attention was on her thoughts, lost, confined.

Hesitantly, Sam placed his hand on Jamie's back. "Everything's going to be all right. Dean and I will find a way to help you."

"Can you really stop them from hurting anyone else?" Jamie whispered. Her voice was lacking any strength. She hadn't spoken in a while and she didn't try to clear the rasping in her voice.

"We can try."

She licked her lips absently. "How about Sara and Dean? Does he have anything to protect her if there would be another demon attack?"

"You shouldn't worry about Dean. He has a few tricks up his sleeve."

Jamie didn't respond to that, and Sam didn't expect her to. Sam couldn't be sure she was convinced or not, but it didn't matter. Her concern would engulf anything he said to comfort her. So, with that in mind, he tried not to apply too much pressure on her. She needed the time to grieve over the last thing she saw.

--

"You need help?"

Sara shook her head slightly. "No, I'm good, I'm good." Dean ignored her response and assisted her in climbing out of the small window frame. "I can't believe we're escaping a damn hospital through a washroom window."

Dean laughed lightly. "Believe me; it gets a lot more worse when you have my job." He placed his hands on her hips, helping her land lightly on the ground.

"Ah—" Sara bit her bottom lip, suppressing anymore cries of angst. This was too much strain on her body, but she didn't want to be the one to slow down their escape. It was still raining outside and the rain that landed on her skin felt good for a moment.

"You okay?"

She nodded her head vigorously, lying through her actions. "I'll live." She held onto the wall behind her, trying to breathe steadily.

"Here." Pulling off his brown leather jacket, Dean placed it over Sara's shoulders. "Put that on."

Sara nodded, sliding her arms through the sleeves. She inhaled, Dean's fresh scent filling her nostrils. "Thanks. I felt naked wearing this damn gown anyway."

"I wish...," Dean muttered.

"What was that?"

"Uh, nothing. C'mon, we better get going." He placed her arm around his neck again, supporting her as she limped.

"Is he following us?"

"I don't know, and I don't really want to stick around to find out."

Sara and Dean approached the parking lot, surveying the area. Dean caught the sights of an old, rusty 1970 Oldsmobile and began leading Sara to that general area. "Hang on for a second," Dean said, letting go his support. He then rammed his elbow against the passenger window, forcing it to shatter. He unlocked the door. "Get in." Dean assisted her inside and ran to the driver's side.

"I'd hate to be the one who owns this car," Sara remarked.

"I don't think they'll miss it too much."

Sparking the two wires together, it took many tries before the vehicle's engine sprung to life. Dean reversed, doing a complete one-eighty to drive out of the parking lot.

Sara continued glancing back, her heart still racing. "I don't see him anywhere."

Glancing back for a second also, Dean returned his eyes back on the road. "Either he gave up or he's waiting." Dean gazed at Sara, her expression anxious. He smiled reassuringly to her. "I won't let him hurt you again."

Sara smiled slightly in return. She turned her sights back in front of her.

Her eyes widen as she gripped her door. "Watch out!"

Dean shot his eyes back on the road, seeing a dark figure stand a mere distance away in front of the vehicle. Narrowing his eyes through the rain, he could see it was the demon again. He pressed his foot further down on the gas pedal. Sara tightly shut her eyes as the front of the car hit the demon. The body rolled over the hood and onto the roof. Dean waited for his body to continue on, but it didn't.

Suddenly, there was a loud impact upon the roof of the car. A repetitive banging sound was heard above the two, the roof denting.

Sara began to tremble, her heart increasing in speed. "Oh my God..."

Dean began swerving the vehicle, hoping to shake the demon off. The roof continued to cave in with every impounding hit.

"Sara, I need you to take the wheel."

She shot her frightened eyes toward him. "What are you going to do?"

Pulling out a loaded pistol, Dean studied the amount of bullets it contained, answering with no words.

"You're going to shoot him...that's definitely inconspicuous," Sara muttered through her fear, taking the steering wheel in her hands.

Dean climbed halfway out of his rolled down window, his foot still on the gas pedal. Instantly, he turned and aimed toward the roof.

Nothing was there.

"Where'd the hell he go?"

"Here's a clue, jackass. Look down."

From beneath the vehicle, the demon returned in sight, throwing a hard fist across Dean's jaw.

In the meantime, out of the parking lot, Sara had steered the car onto public road, swerving through lanes, passing any other vehicles as much as she could.

The demon threw another fist against Dean's face. By reflex, he lifted his foot from the gas pedal, hitting the break with his heel.

The vehicle began skidding to an uncontrollable stop.

"Dean, I can't do this!" Sara shouted as she tried to swerve away from a passing truck. She didn't know if she could miss it in time.

Dean returned back into the vehicle, placing his hands back on the wheel, turning it as far as he could and slamming his foot on the break.

Sara slammed right into him as the vehicle slid to a right turn, the wheels screeching against the wet tar road. The side of Dean's head crashed against the window. Burnt rubber filled the air as the car finally halted. Heavy breathing replacing the screeching tires.

"You all right?" Dean rasped.

Sara pulled herself away from him, her injuries pulsing with pain. "Barely..."

Dean glanced at the rear view mirror. The demon had fallen onto the road, rolling to the side, to a safer distance. The demon stood, brushing off the dirt on his clothing casually as if nothing had occurred. He looked up, staring at their vehicle with narrowed eyes.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Dean slammed his foot on the gas pedal, jerking the car forward.

"This is completely insane," Sara murmured, holding onto her left side.

Driving back in control and looking at the rearview mirror every so often, Dean realized that the demon was no longer at the scene.

He disappeared.

Dean brought his hand to his head, where it made impact with the now slightly shattered window. His vision staggered. He shook his head, hoping to return his focus.

Sara observed Dean's behavior. Was he in any condition to drive?

"Do you want me to drive?" she offered, even though she knew she wasn't in any better condition.

"No, I'm fine."

Sara was not convinced, but what more could she do? She pulled on her seatbelt, closing her eyes, praying for just one hour of peace.

--

The minutes were dragging on. Sam couldn't find a way to make the time go by faster. He grabbed the television remote, turning it on. Sam began surfing the channels, looking for a thing to do until the sun would rise. He finally stopped it at an old movie.

Jamie had not spoken a word for a very long time, which didn't concern Sam, he understood.

However, unbeknownst to him, emotions were bottling up inside her. So much bad luck had happened in a mere few days and it all involved her. Was she cursed? Was anybody even safe around her?

"First it was my boyfriend, and now my dog, all in one week...," she spoke aloud. "I was lucky that Sara was only sent to the hospital. It's as if everyone who knows me is brought toward danger." Jamie gazed up at Sam, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. "You're probably in danger too."

Sam sat beside her once again. "We've experienced danger all our lives, Dean and I grew through it. It's no longer much of a threat." He gave a reassuring smile.

"Wow...that's depressing."

Sam slightly laughed, causing a crack of a smile on Jamie's lips.

Banging on the door immediately interrupted the moment. Jamie jumped.

"Sam! Sam, open up!"

The recognizable voice forced Sam off the mattress. He ran to the door, quickly unlocking it and swinging it open. Sara and Dean stood at the door step, Dean supporting Sara's weight, both drenched from the rain. Their expression held traumatism and frustration.

Sam observed the two, bemused. "Dean?" He studied their attire. They were a complete mess. "What happened?"

Jamie stood when she gazed at the doorway. She ran toward the two, her eyes widening at the sight of Sara. "Are you okay?"

"Never felt better," Sara replied with obvious acidity.

Jamie sent her an apologetic look. "Sorry." She took her other arm, taking away Sara's weight from Dean, and bringing her to the closest bed.

"The sonofabitches are persistent, I'll give them that much," Dean remarked, entering inside the motel room and slamming the door behind him.

"They came to the hospital?" Sam questioned.

Dean took a seat at the small table that stood by the window. "Yeah, it chased us out of there."

"It was the same bastard that attacked me the first time too," Sara added.

"It's probably the same demon that possessed Jamie's boyfriend." Rubbing his hand on the injury on the side of his forehead, Dean felt something warm and wet. He brought his hand toward his view, seeing blood on his palm and fingers.

"I'll go get the first aid," Jamie inquired, running to the washroom.

"Did you salt the windows and doors?"

Sam nodded his head. "Yeah."

Jamie returned with a first aid kit and sat across Dean. "Let me take a look."

Dean dropped his hand from the wound, letting Jamie clean away the blood. She began applying alcohol.

"Ah, sonofa—" He inhaled sharply, tightly shutting his eyes as the wound stung.

Jamie winced. "Sorry."

"Its fine," Dean replied with no intent of making his tone sound unappreciative.

"Did the demon say anything to you? Any idea why they're after Jamie and Sara?"

"No, nothing," Dean answered.

"Actually..." Everyone brought their attention toward Sara. She felt the spotlight on her, but didn't flinch at the pressure. "I remember them saying something to me before...something about a man...I don't know, they said he wanted something to do with us, whatever that means..." Sara's memory was frail and she didn't understand why she could not remember anything of that moment. She assumed it would all return to her soon, though.

"Who's he?"

Sara slowly looked up at them. "I have no idea."

Jamie placed a white bandage over Dean's wound. "There you go," she said in a whisper.

"Thanks," Dean replied with gratitude.

Sam then had a thought. "What if someone is controlling the demons?"

"Like a human?" Dean suggested.

"Maybe. Or even another demon."

Unannounced, another stab of pain shot through Sara's body. She cringed, her eyes tightly shut, her teeth clenched. She began panted. She ignored the pain for so long that once she lost her concentration, listening to what the men were saying, the infliction of the earlier occurrences broke through her wall of neglect.

"Sara? What's wrong?" Sam asked with concern, taking a step forward.

She didn't answer.

Getting up from her seat, Jamie ran to her side. Sara held herself, rocking back and forth, waiting for the pain to subside again, like it always had.

"She needs a doctor."

Sam shook his head. "It's too dangerous to take her back to the hospital."

"I'm fine!" Sara inhaled sharply. "I'm fine," she repeated in a more soothing tone.

"We can't just stay here forever. Eventually they will find us," Jamie whispered. "What are we going to do?"

"We stay in this room until sunrise. By then we should have a plan."

The room was silent, before Sara decided to speak up. "You guys don't happen to have a change of clothes do you? This wet hospital gown is getting seriously irritating, and the last thing I need right now is a cold."

"I think I can find something in the car for you," Sam inquired. He grabbed the keys from the table.

"Sam, wait." He turned toward Dean who pulled out the silver flask from his pocket. "Take some holy water with you, just in case."

He nodded, taking the flask in his hands before exiting through the door, closing it behind him. In a matter of minutes, Sam returned unharmed and with a pile of folded clothing.

"The smallest thing I could find was some of Dean's old clothes," he informed.

"It doesn't matter," Sara replied. "Thank you." She attempted to stand up.

Jamie stood on her feet, taking her arm. "I'll help you out."

Sara took the clothing from Sam's hands. "I feel like a damn three year old."

"You need help; you're just too stubborn to admit it."

"Oh, bite me."

Jamie only rolled her eyes, helping her walk toward the washroom.

When Sam knew Jamie and Sara were out of earshot, he turned to his older brother. "Dean, man, I hope you have a plan."

Dean frowned. "I got nothing right now."

"We've got demons on our tail and two women to protect, and you're telling me you have no plan?"

Glaring, Dean replied. "I'm thinking, all right? We have no idea where these demons are, no way to kill them, and you expect me to have a plan?"

"I don't know, man." Sam took a seat at the foot of one of the beds. "It's just—we're in way over our heads here. What are we going to do?"

"Dad would know what to do...," Dean trailed off, thoughtful. "We got two options. We either leave them here to die, or take them with us."

Sam was sympathetic. "Take them where?"

"To find Dad."

"Dean, we've been searching for Dad for months now, and between searching for Dad, we've been working on hunts. We can't do the job and protect them at the same time."

Dean slightly shook his head. "I don't see a third option here."

"What makes you think they're going to come with us willingly? They have lives here; they're not just going to give it all up."

"They die if they stay here, that's reason enough," Dean replied. "I got you to leave Stanford, didn't I?"

"That's because you were worried about Dad and I thought it would only be for a couple of days."

The two became silent for a moment.

"How long do you think will it take to find Dad?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't know."

As the two brothers conversed in secrecy, in the washroom, Jamie was helping Sara out of the hospital gown. Sara closed her eyes tightly, biting her lower lip as the pain rolled back in. Her right shoulder began to burn, like it had when she was attacked. She wondered why it was only that particular spot. As Jamie rummaged through the pile of clothing for a shirt, Sara looked in the mirror. What she saw was horrible. That couldn't be her face; it looked so contorted with wounds. Sara couldn't bear to look at it anymore. She turned, gazing over her shoulder to observe the reflection of her back. Distinctly, she could see a strange burn on her right shoulder blade. She observed closely. The burn was the size of a silver coin, with an inverted pentagram, the face of what looked to be a goat in the pentagram. It was surrounded in a circle, strange little symbols at every point of the pentagram.

Sara could remember seeing this symbol. It was a Baphomet, a demonic symbol.

Jamie gazed at her with curiosity. "Sara?"

She jerked away from the mirror. "Yeah?"

"What's that on your back?"

"Nothing."

Jamie furrowed her brow, the lie so obviously false. "Let me see."

Already caught red handed, Sara decided not to resist. She turned around, letting Jamie study the burnt wound.

"Where'd you get this?"

Sara closed her eyes, hearing the voice of the demon woman in her head: This is something to remember us by.

Jamie stared at how precise the image was. "This is a satanic symbol. A demonic symbol...," she said thoughtfully. "We should tell Dean and Sam about this."

"No, wait!" Sara turned to her. "Please, don't mention a word. They have enough to worry about. It's just a burn, it doesn't really mean anything."

"Sara..."

"Please?"

Jamie stared at her for a long minute, sighing lightly. "Okay, I won't say anything. But if it gets worse I'll tell them, even if you won't."

Sara nodded her head. "Fair enough."

"Now, here, put this shirt on." Jamie pulled the oversized black T-shirt over Sara's head. She helped her pull on the jeans that seemed way too big, yet Sara did not complain. Once settled, Jamie assisted Sara out the washroom door.

The two brothers looked up as they exited.

"Hey, you look good in my clothes," Dean remarked.

Sara slightly laughed despite the tension of the situation. "Thanks. It really shows off my feminine figure, doesn't it?" she replied with irony. The clothing was very loose and baggy on her.

Jamie aided her to the nearest bed.

"You two should get some sleep," Sam suggested.

"What about you two?"

"We'll keep watch tonight and make sure nothing gets to you."

Jamie smiled lightly. "I don't know how to repay you two."

Sam smiled in returned. "Just get some rest. We'll wake you up if anything happens."

She nodded her head.

It took a few hours, but eventually, Jamie was able to fall asleep. With everything that had just happened and running through her mind, she didn't know if she was able to lie dormant. However, in mere minutes she drifted off, listening to the inaudible whispers of Dean and Sam's voices and Sara's slow breathing. The rest would do well for Sara, as the doctor had said. But how long would the two be able to rest? Especially when their lives were threatened by demonic creatures, for all she knew, were outside the door right now.

Jamie didn't dream that night, and she was thankful. For a few nights, after the death of David, she was obtaining nightmares. But every time she woke up startled, she couldn't remember them. This was the first real sleep she had in days.

It only felt like minutes that she had closed her eyes when Jamie woke up. She was proven wrong when she saw the sun peek through the curtains of the windows. She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"I see you're up."

Jamie searched for the voice, seeing Dean sitting at the table, his feet propped up on the edge. She gazed around the room for a moment. Sara was still lying in bed, sleeping, while she could not find the whereabouts of Dean's younger brother.

"Where's Sam?" she questioned.

"Went to grab some coffee." Dean yawned. "We could use some caffeine right now."

"Did anything—"

Dean didn't let her finish. "No. I don't think the demons came anywhere near the motel," he answered. "But it doesn't mean they don't know where we are."

Jamie stood from the bed, walking toward the window, pulling back the gray curtains. She peered out side, seeing the black Chevy Impala pull up. "At least it finally stopped raining...and Sam's back."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. She unlocked it, greeted with Sam holding a tray of four coffee cups.

"Morning," he said.

Jamie gave a nod in acknowledgement, closing and locking the door behind him.

Sam placed the tray onto the table, Dean immediately taking one. "I didn't know if you girls wanted coffee, but I got you some anyway."

"Thanks." Jamie took a cup of coffee gratefully in her hands. She took a sip, sighing in contentment. "Oh, that's good."

"I see Sara's still asleep."

Jamie shrugged. "She's a sleep all day, party all night kinda girl. She'll be really happy when she sees you bought her some coffee."

Sam slightly smiled. "Um, you know, I saw a breakfast diner not too far from here, I don't know if you want some breakfast but I thought..."

"No, that sounds good," Jamie agreed with the suggestion. "I could go for some pancakes."

"Me too," Dean remarked and he stood from his seat. "We just need someone to wake up sleeping beauty."

It was after Sara woke up that they left toward the diner Sam had spotted only a few miles away from the motel. It was small, compact and crowded for the morning. Fortunately, it was only a matter of minutes before Dean spotted an empty booth, where the brothers and women sat opposite sides. The four waited for the menus.

As people walked by, they threw glances toward Sara, observing the bruise on her cheek, the cut on her lip. Some stared longer than others, catching Sara's attention. She hated the glances; she hated the curiosity and the pity she saw in those strangers' eyes. Sara felt discomfort now. She disliked gaining too much attention. She shifted in her seat, looking away from one of the chefs gazing at her from over the counter.

"Sara?" Dean was the first to realize her nervous behavior. "You okay?"

"Everyone keeps staring at me. Probably thinking I have an abusive boyfriend or something...," she whispered. She caught the eyes of one of the waitresses.

Dean and Sam looked the same way.

Sara brought her eyes down to the table. "Do I really look so awful?" Sara had not seen her reflection since last night, and though what she saw was horrible, it wasn't something to look at for a long period of time.

"They're just being nosy," Jamie replied. "It doesn't look that bad, it'll heal up, you'll see."

Pursing her lips, Sara responded in a slight whisper only toward Jamie. "Wait until Andy sees me. I wonder what he'll think."

"Good morning!" a blonde waitress greeted, placing down a stack of menus on the table. "My name is Wendy; I'll be your waitress for today." She brightly smiled. "Do you guys know yet what you would like to drink?"

"Coffee," Sara answered immediately.

"You just had a coffee," Jamie said.

Sara shrugged and looked up at the waitress. "Coffee," she repeated.

Wendy gazed at her for a long moment, before staggering back into focus. "O-Okay. And you, Miss?"

"Just a cup of water, please."

The waitress gazed at the brothers for an answer.

"Water," they said in unison.

"Three waters and a cup of coffee coming right up." She escaped away.

After a few minutes, the waitress returned with their drinks. Receiving their breakfast orders, she left once again, taking the menus with her.

Dean folded his hands together, leaning against the table. "So, last night, Sam and I took shifts watching for the demon. It was quiet; there was no sign of it anywhere."

"Dean and I don't think it even came near the motel, but it probably still knows where we are, just decided not to make a move," Sam continued.

Dean nodded his head slightly. "We began talking. The only defense we have on a demon is holy water and salt, and if we're lucky, we can place an exorcism on it. But, like Sara said, there are two of them now. An exorcism doesn't necessarily kill them, and if there are two, there's bound to be more."

"So, what are you saying?" Jamie questioned.

Dean glanced at his brother before answering. "You ladies have two options. Our father is a hunter too; he might know how to help you, better than we can. Unfortunately, we're searching for him. Option one: you come with us on a road trip to look for our father, or option two: you stay here. But we can't guarantee the demons won't find and kill you once we're gone."

"Life or death, that's basically our choices," Sara replied. "What about college, our jobs, our homes?"

"You leave it behind," Sam answered. "We don't like it as much as you do, but we don't know how else to help you. At least, if you come with us, we'll be able to watch over you two—keep you safe."

"We didn't know demons even existed," Jamie said in angst. "What the hell do they want from us?"

Sam frowned at her, feeling her anxiety, her anger. "We don't know."

"But our father might," Dean stated.

"Hope you guys weren't waiting too long." Wendy entered back into the atmosphere, holding a couple of plates. She placed the plate of pancakes in front of Dean and another in front of Jamie. "Your breakfast will be up really soon." She sent a bright smile toward Sara and Sam.

"Thanks," he responded.

She gave a nod, and walked away again.

Immediately, Dean began eating his food, while Jamie hesitated, no longer feeling the hunger she obtained earlier.

"How long...," Sara started. "How long have you been looking for your father?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "A while now."

It became silent again, excluding the chatter of the many people around them. Shortly after, the waitress returned with Sam and Sara's breakfast. Sara, however, was also reluctant to begin eating.

The two were just bombarded with the hardest choice. No, it wasn't much of a choice, it was an obligation. If they did not leave with the brothers, they would most certainly die. They would have to give up their home, their jobs, their education for a good future; they would have to give up their life, everything they ever worked hard on.

Sara remembered this realization. It was like that one night, the night her father died in front of her eyes, where her life ended, and she needed to begin a new one at an orphanage, the place where she met Jamie. It was difficult for her then, to get use to the fact her father would never be by her side again, will never embrace her like he always did in the past. Sara had to relive all that again, had to relive leaving everything behind in order to survive.

This was too much for Jamie to take. She lost two lives in one week, almost lost a third if the attack on Sara was not interrupted. Now, she could lose her life if she did not go with the brothers. She was indecisive, even though the choice was pretty obvious. Live or die.

"What do we need to do in order to come with you?" Jamie asked.

Sam dropped his fork in order to answer. "We'll need to get back to your place, grab whatever you need for the trip."

Jamie buried her face into her hands. "I can't believe this is happening."

Sara gazed at her with awe. "You're not considering...," she trailed off.

"What other choice do we have? Run or be killed, those are our choices," Jamie replied. "Look what happened when they weren't here. You were attack, wounded pretty badly. If we stay here, and they leave, the demons will be back, and they'll do a whole lot worse. I'm not risking it."

Sara gazed at her for a long moment, her jaw tight. She was surprised by Jamie's eagerness. A few days ago, she didn't believe in demons, didn't want to believe they ever existed, and now she was ready to up and leave her life, with these two male strangers in order to stay alive and get these creatures of Hell off their tail.

Back then, Sara didn't have a choice, she was too young to live alone. She was sent to the orphanage, no questions asked. But now, she could decide, she was old enough. However, what decision did she have now? Run or be killed, it was a given to know which option she would choose.

"Okay, okay," she began. "Whatever is needed to be done to keep us alive, I'll do it."

Jamie slightly smiled toward her. "Me too."

Dean sighed with relief. He thought for sure they might have picked up a better fight about the situation. He didn't want to leave the women here alone in Colorado, he had morals against that. Their father would have wanted him to keep them safe, no matter what, and this was the only way to do it, until they found John Winchester.

"It's settled then," Sam began. "We leave this morning, after breakfast."

"So suddenly?" Sara questioned.

"The faster we get on the road, the faster we can find our dad."

Sam could feel his older brother's eyes on him. He knew the urgency in Sam's voice. He wanted to find his father as quick as possible, maybe then he would have some idea on what killed his girlfriend, Jessica Moore. Revenge was the only thing on his mind since the day the fire broke out in their home, since he witnessed Jessica pinned to the ceiling. It hurt to see those memories, but they were the only thing that kept him going, that kept him from breaking down and mourning over her death. It was what kept him hungry for vengeance.

He knew he was being impatient, acting out toward his brother because he wanted to find his father so badly, to kill that damn thing once and for all. However, Dean had been pulling him toward different hunts, distracting him from searching. The only thing that stopped Sam from leaving Colorado was that premonition. He swore if he saw anyone else die in his dreams that he would save them, like he should have saved Jessica.

"Hey, just checking up on you guys." Wendy popped up with a grin. "How's the food?"

"Great," Sara replied. "It's great."

"Do you mind bringing us the bill, sweetheart?" Dean said.

"Of course." She gave a nod, leaving again.

Dean returned his attention on Sara. "You have your stuff at Jamie's, right?"

She shook her head. "Only a few clothes to last me a couple of days. We're going to have to stop by at my house."

Wendy came back, placing the check down on the table.

"Thanks," Dean said, sliding the paper toward him.

"How much is it?" Jamie asked, pulling out her wallet.

Dean smiled a charming smile. "We got this one."

"But—"

"Really, don't worry about it." He threw down a couple of bills. "Let's get going."

It seemed like an average morning when they returned toward Dean's Impala. No demon sightings, nothing seemed threatening at the moment. However, looks were deceiving. What more could Jamie and Sara do but be silent, sitting in the back of vehicle, wondering what awaiting for them in the future. Was this a mistake? Are they better off staying? So many questions ran through their mind, and it still seemed unbelievable. They barely knew these two men, and now they were leaving with them on a road trip.

Sara stared out the window as Dean pulled up at the side of the street, right in front of Jamie's house. She peered out toward her own vehicle, her brows furrowed with anger.

"Those sonofabitches," she muttered as she exited.

"What?" Jamie followed close behind.

Sara approached her Toyota Camry, observing the scratches, the slashed tires, and the broken glass. She worked so hard affording this car, and now it was complete trash.

"Goddamnit!" She ran a hand down her face. "Look what they did to my damn car!"

Dean came up beside her, studying the wreck. "A last minute resort..."

Still enraged, Sara turned to him. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"It means the demons were desperate," Sam answered for him. "This was their way of keeping you from leaving the state."

"I guess they didn't count on us coming back," Dean remarked smugly.

Sam and Dean searched throughout Jamie's house, but it was completely safe and secure. Sara helped Jamie pack every piece of clothing she could find into a large duffel bag. She avoided the windows and door that led to the backyard. The canine's corpse was still out there and Jamie had no desire to see it a second time.

Once everything was packed, Jamie took one final look at her well furnished home. Everything she worked hard on getting, she was leaving behind. She gazed around, wondering to herself when she would ever return. She had a feeling that she wouldn't be back very soon. With the bills left unpaid, who knew what she might come home to?

"Jamie, you ready?"

She turned toward Sam, whom stood at the doorway, waiting.

Jamie nodded her head. "Yeah."

Taking the duffel bag and throwing it over his shoulder, Sam waited as Jamie exited out of the house, closing the door behind him. She strode toward the side of the Impala, where Sara stood, gazing at her vehicle. Her frown was evident.

"I guess I won't need it anymore," she said, looking back at Jamie. "You okay?"

She nodded her head. "I'm fine...It's just so disappointing. What we've gone through just to make a living in America, and everything we've conquered, all the problems we suffered through and climbed over...it meant nothing, because now, we're going to leave it behind."

Sara nodded her head in understanding. Her words stung, but there was undeniable truth behind them. All the meaning behind her speech would definitely be embedded in her mind. Everything they worked hard on...It was just unbelievable.

"So, where are we headed now, ladies?" Dean questioned as he closed the trunk of the car where Sam placed the duffel bag.

"Denver," Sara answered.

The four entered inside the car.

"How far is that?" Dean asked his brother.

Sam pulled out a map, examining the distance. "Over two-hundred miles."

Dean heightened the volume on his radio, letting Motörhead fill the void of silence. The three hour drive was a quiet one. The women watched as the scenery passed by them through the windows. Would they ever see it again? How long would this journey be? There wasn't much said between the group, however, their minds raced with an assortment of questions.

The silence was broken as soon as they reached Denver. Sara navigated Dean through the twists and turns of the many roads to reach her own small town house.

The house was tall yet thin. Its appealing front was sorted in a decorative state. A small garage was at the left, the front door to the right of it. The house had a cozy feel to it.

Dean cut the engine, parking on the driveway and began to exit along with everyone else. Sara gazed at her home, looking it over just as Jamie had done to hers. It was the only place she felt comfortable for so many years, and it too was probably unsafe. She pulled out the keys to her lock, walking through the small walkway that led from the driveway.

"Nice place," Sam remarked.

Sara laughed slightly. "The outside looks nice...just wait until you see the inside. You'll be pleasantly surprised." She unlocked the door, letting it open wide.

"Sam, search through the lower level, I got the upstairs," Dean ordered. Sam nodded his head obediently, already making his way into the house. "Is everything you need upstairs?" he asked Sara.

"Yeah," she replied.

"Okay, stay behind me," he said toward the two. He began walking up the stairs that was only a few paces away from the door.

Gun in hand, and focus in his vision, Dean reached to the very top, inspected the narrow hall ahead. He checked every room, some furnished, others still under construction, but what each room had in common, was the amount of paint splotches on the walls, and the canvases lying in stacks on the floor. The very last room was Sara's destination, her bedroom. Dean opened the door, observing every little hiding place that a demon could hide in, but it was unoccupied along with the others.

Sara immediately went through her closet, looking for a large enough bag that could fit a collection of her clothing. Her injuries limited her though, where Jamie jumped in, in order to assist. As soon as they found Sara's old artists bag she once used to carry all of her creative instruments such as paint bottles, tubes, canvases, paint brushes, etcetera.

Dean examined the room, examining the different works of art done in different types of media hanging on the walls. He bent down, picking up a canvas that leaned against her bed frame.

"Did you paint this?"

Sara looked up from her knelt down position, studying the painted canvas he had in his hands. She recognized it as one of her favorite paintings she has ever done. "I'm studying art in college. That was one of my assignments."

Dean looked over the assortment of colours. He, being a non-artist junkie, could not tell whether it was painted with acrylic or oils, but that didn't matter to him. The painting was an image of a figure standing before the sunset. The figure had a build of a man, and though he looked human, he was partially transparent before the light from the sun. His legs were painted in a way so that it faded in a mist, blended with the sparkles of the suns rays. Though his assumption might have not been the message that Sara was advertising in her painting, he thought his man was painted in Sara's knowledge of what a memory or even a spirit would look like through a person's eye. She paid very much attention to detail, using the different paints very carefully, blending them accordingly. He was impressed.

"This is amazing," he complimented.

Her mind was elsewhere as she continued packing. "Thanks."

Footsteps were heard from the hall way. Sam entered shortly after.

"Everything's clear. I don't think they even stepped foot in here."

Dean shrugged. "I'm sure they were working up to it."

He looked away from his brother, picking up a picture frame from one of her shelves. It was an image of a little girl, laughing as she was being carried over a man's shoulders. He too was laughing, both looking happy on a sunny day. Dean placed it down, picking up another that lay beside it. Sara was smiling in this image, her cheek against the cheek of a man whom also smiled a bright smile. He looked around his twenties; his dark brown hair was cut only an inch long from his scalp.

"Is this your brother?" he assumed.

Sara stood up with minor difficultly, coming up behind him to examine the picture. "No, we're not related." She bit her lip in thought. "But that does remind me of something I need to do..."

"Do you need anything else, Sara?" Jamie questioned, placing a pile of folded clothes into the bag.

"No, I think that's everything."

Jamie zipped closed the bag, standing up in an attempt to lift it with the power of her knees.

"I got it," Sam said, taking the heavy bag from her hands.

"Thanks," she replied gratefully.

The group walked down the stairs, Sam walking ahead to throw the bag in the trunk alongside Jamie's. Sara had pulled out her cell phone when she exited out the front door. She dialed a number, bringing the phone to her ear. There was no ring and it was immediately sent to the answering machine. She tried a different number, but it was an identical result.

"Shit," Sara muttered, flipping her phone closed. She didn't know what to do now. He needed to know, he needed to know she was leaving Colorado.

"What's wrong?" Dean noticed her sudden aggravation.

She sighed, gazing at him. "That picture with me and the other guy...well that's my boyfriend."

Dean's brows lifted in acknowledgement. "Ah, so that was the 'but'. I was afraid I was losing my charm after you rejected me."

Sara slightly laughed, though it hurt her cheeks from the strain. She still felt the pain, but it was defiantly more bearable than yesterday. "Anyway, I can't leave without telling him where I'm going."

"What exactly are you going to tell him?" he wondered, gazing into the sun. "A couple of demons are after me, so I need to go on a road trip with a couple of guys that I don't even know—something like that?"

"Are you kidding me?" Sara smiled. "He'll think that I was high off my ass." Her face then became serious. "Unfortunately, he isn't answering his cell or phone, and I can't just leave without some sort of explanation."

Dean looked back at her, his brow cocked. "So, what do you want to do?"

"Um..." Sara inhaled sharply, looking toward Jamie and Sam who waited patiently, their faces curious. She looked back at eldest of the group, Dean, who waited for an answer. "Do you mind driving over to his house? Just give me a few minutes to explain briefly on things, just so he won't worry about me."

Dean grinned. "No problem. Do you know what you are going to say to him?"

"I'll think of something."

It was apparent that Sara was afraid. What could she say to Andrew Evans, her boyfriend, that would make sense, and that wouldn't seem like a ploy just to get away from him? Sara wondered how she would hold a relationship with Andy now that she was leaving the state to drive through other cities and towns of the United States of America to search for Dean and Sam's father—that possibly had a plan for their unfortunate situation. However, Sara knew it wouldn't be easy. Andy was a difficult person to explain things to. He liked detail and hated not knowing the whole truth in whatever she had to say. Although, he did treat everything like a joke, he still knew when matters are serious, and he would definitely question her as much as he saw fit. Sara loved him; it hurt to think that she would leave so suddenly.

She began shifting the promise ring he purchased for her on her finger with her thumb, thinking. What could she say? I'm leaving with a couple of friends on a good natured road trip; I'll see you when I see you? Andy wouldn't buy that and there was a guarantee he would worry. She already knew his reaction. Andy was known to be very overprotective; he always made sure she was safe and had the freedom to do anything she desired—with limitations of course.

"Just stop right there." Sara pointed toward the curb just in front of another town house.

"Do you want us to scout the house?" Sam inquired.

Sara shook her head. "That's not necessary. They didn't break-in my house; chances are they didn't break into Andrew's home either." She unbuckled her seatbelt, opening the car door.

"Do you want us to come in with you?" Dean asked.

"No, I think I can handle it. Just give me a few minutes." Sara closed the door behind her, walking through the small front lawn and toward the front door. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

It's early in the morning, Andy would never be up and awake at this time, she thought.

Sara dug into her pocket, pulling out the key to his house. Andy gave it to her whether there were ever to be an emergency, or—in his words—"if she ever felt lonely". She unlocked the door, again with the same difficult she had a few days ago, before she ever traveled to Alamosa, and entered, closing it behind her.

"Andy?" she called out.

As expected, there was no response. Her assumption was that: if Andy was in any place at this precise moment, he would either be in his bedroom sleeping, or passed out on the couch in his living room.

She tried the living room first. It was empty, besides the mess of beer cans left probably from the night before.

Andy obviously had a love for liquor, almost as compatible as Sara's love for the liquid. But there was always one thing that Sara had the will to do that Andy did not. She knew when to stop. Andy on the other hand continued downing the beverage until he was knocked out stone cold. It frightened her at times. When he was drunk, he slept so silent, unmoving, that there were times she jumped into the conclusion that he was dead if it were not for the rising of his chest at every easy breath he took.

Sara decided to try the bedroom next. Walking up the stairs, she continued to think of words to say to him, and how she would sort them out into logical, convincing sentences. Once she reached the door to his room, she inhaled a good amount of oxygen in order to calm her nerves.

Sara turned the knob. The first thing she saw was the mess of clothes on the floor and then the bed frame. As usual, Andy was sprawled across the large mattress, sleeping away in his gray plaid boxers. But there was something out of the ordinary. There was something out of place, something that really did not seem right through her eyes.

There was something beside him, another figure.

"Andy?"

Through her startled realization, Sara knew it was a person, a female. The woman was stripped down to her under garments, the bed sheets wrapped awkwardly around her body. Sara could not blink, could not even think. But she knew, without any thought, what she saw and what it meant.

"What the hell is this?" she questioned. Her eyes were tight.

Andy jerked awake at the sound of her firm, loud voice, shaking his head that pounded ever so lightly. He lifted his head, looking toward Sara that stood frozen at the door. His eyes widened slowly, and he turned his sights toward his left, where the woman slept silently. Andy looked back at Sara, where her eyes were brought to his. He watched as her eyebrows pulled together in anger and confusion.

"Sara...," he began slowly, carefully. "It's not what you think..."

Sara stared at him, hurt and infuriated. At that instant, she pivoted on her heel, dashing out the door.

"Shit," Andy cussed, jumping out of bed. "Wait, Sara!"

Ignoring his calls, she ran down the stairs, ignoring the pain at every step, aiming for the front door. A wave of emotions flooded in her that her only instinct was to leave the scene right now. All physical pain that was still on the wounds of her body was flooded over with a stronger emotional pain.

"Sara, hold on a sec! Just let me explain!"

"I don't want to hear it," she replied calmly. "I have no desire to hear what you have to say." Walking straight out the front door, she made her way toward the Impala. Sara could see the look of caution on Dean and Sam's faces as they observed the situation from afar.

"Just hear me out this one time!" Andy grabbed her arm, gripping it tightly so she couldn't take another step.

She turned to him, her eyes narrowed with accusations. "Hear you out?" Her voice dripped with toxic venom as she ripped her arm from his grip. "Why should I? I think I know very well what I saw back there!" She gestured toward the house angrily. Then, a mocking smile traced over her lips. "I bet you weren't expecting me to be back home so soon, huh?"

Andy listened to her words but he couldn't help but observe the palpable marks on her face. His gaze traced over her cut lip and the bruise below her eye. He immediately became concerned, bringing his hand to her face. "How'd you get those?"

Sara slapped his hand away, rejecting his worry. "Don't change the subject!" Closing her eyes, she calmed down for a moment, taking quick even breaths. "Why'd you do it?" She opened up her eyes to look at his face, to look at his reaction when he would answer. When he didn't, she continued. "Did you get bored of me or something? Am I not good enough for you anymore?"

He shook his head. "No, no, that's not it." He ran his fingers through his hair. His hangover was killing him; it was just too much stress for the morning. Everything right now had gotten so irrepressible so quickly. "I had a lot to drink last night—she came on to me!"

Sara gave a spiteful laugh. "Oh, yeah, I bet you welcomed her with open arms too." She crossed her arms, looking away from him. "You're excuses are ridiculous."

"Sara—"

"No! I'm not listening to anymore bullshit!"

As the argument went on, Dean, Sam and Jamie watched from the sidelines, perplexed and anxious to know what was going on. Dean slowly lowered the volume of the radio in order to listen to what was being said between the two. Sara was angry, from what they could decipher through her body language. And seeing that her boyfriend, Andrew Evans, was in his underwear out in broad daylight, he must have done something wrong that he wouldn't have the time to change first. Dean perked up his ears, listening to what they were throwing at each other.

"Look, it was a mistake—a big mistake. I admit it. I'll do anything you want to make this better. Anything."

Sara shook her head toward him. "You're unbelievable. There is nothing you can do that will make this situation better. Absolutely nothing. Cheating on me with some slut is the lowest you could go."

Andrew frowned. "It's been a long week; I missed you, a lot. Alcohol can make you do really stupid things, especially when you're drinking to pass the time. If there was one thing I never wanted to do, it was to hurt you."

Sara shook her head again, looking down. She couldn't hear it anymore. It just sounded so familiar, like they were written lines to be memorized in a play. She heard it all before, in her past relationships. She needed to make the decision now, before she regretted believing his words, before her heart believed those words.

"No, no...I'm sorry, Andy, but it's over."

"Please don't say that to me." He whispered the sentence, that the group in the car barely heard it. "I'll do anything."

"You've done enough."

Suddenly, Andrew brought his hand to the back of Sara's neck, smashing his lips against hers. The last and desperate decision he could make. He hoped she would feel that love he had for, anything that could change her mind. However, Sara instantly pulled away, throwing her palm across his face.

Dean winced by reaction. "Ouch."

Sam immediately shushed him, in order to hear more.

Jamie, herself was even curious, even though it was wrong for her to listen to an argument that was definitely not at all any of her business. But the two staged it so well; she could not stop herself from listening and watching as if she was a paying audience member.

"I came here to say good bye, for what it's worth."

Andy felt his jaw and his cheek. She really did slap him hard. "What do you mean?" He dropped his hand to his side. "Where are you going?"

"I guess that's none of your business anymore."

Andy looked past her, toward the black Impala. Dean and Sam held his stare, never blinking, never looking away. His eyes challenged them, contemplating on an unspoken theory. "You leaving with them?" He jerked his chin toward the car.

"Why? Do you have a problem with that?" Sara could feel the anger begin to radiate from him. It was satisfying in a way.

"A problem? Do I have a problem?" Andy asked sarcastically. "My girlfriend is going away with two guys I don't even know!"

"It really shouldn't be a problem anymore, considering I'm now your ex-girlfriend." Sara began pulling out the silver ring he gave to her from her finger, shoving it in his hand. "Here, you can have this back, the promise ring that was never meant to be given to me."

"What am I suppose to do with this?"

Sara took a step back. "Choke on it for all I care—or better yet, give it to that chick in your bed, maybe you can pretend to promise her that she's the only one in your life too."

Turning away, she went back into her stride toward the Impala. The group sat straight as she approached, acting as if they hadn't been eavesdropping. She entered the car, her expression distant.

"Sara!" Andy shouted and Sara closed her eyes.

"Dean, please, let's get the hell out of here," she whispered. She couldn't bear to look back at the man she once loved—still loved, even though she tried her hardest to deny it at the moment, because she was so angry.

Dean didn't say anything, but he started the engine, pressing his foot on the gas to start the car forward down the street.

"You okay?" Jamie asked gently.

Sara looked toward her, her eyes glazed with tears that Jamie hadn't seen in a very long time.