Looking through the busy diner, Dean's eyes search until he finds what he's looking for. The now dark red hair she's decided to go with suddenly makes her much easier to spot in a crowd, which he isn't sure yet if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Either way, it suited her. The second Lizzy came out of the bathroom about a week ago with her new hair color that she did out of a box, the red looking brighter in the sunlight that came through the big front window of the motel room in Jersey City… wait, no, Ocean City… he immediately pulled her into bed. Damn it, something about that color made her even sexier, fierier. It was exactly her style, perfectly her personality, and it made him want to do dirty, naughty things to her which overall isn't good. He really didn't need another reason to want her every second of the day.

Walking towards the booth he can see her deep, dark red ponytail just sticking up from the booth's backing while facing the other way, he has to wonder what's been up with her lately. For the past three days she's been awfully quiet, introverted, and anxious almost, and this very morning she disappeared before he and Sam even woke up. He called her but he realized she left her phone behind on the nightstand when he heard her 'Immigrant Song' ring tone in the room. This was a move which he knows is purposeful on her part. She never forgot her phone, ever… unless she wanted to.

He slides into the booth and settles in directly across from her. Sitting with his hands folded and forearms flat on the table's surface, he stares at Lizzy while she continues to read something on her laptop with her earbuds in. He leans forward with eyebrows high and plenty of annoyance when she ignores him, his face expectant as he tries to grab her attention. Instead of answer, she holds up her index finger to ask him to wait. Dean, a little offended, wrinkles his brow and leans back into the booth, arms draped over the backing. When she finishes reading what she was in the middle of she drops her finger, pulls out her earbuds, and looks at him.

"What?" Her tone is completely flat.

"Seriously? Eating alone?" Dean questions her as he looks at her untouched, small bowl a fruit and half-finished orange juice. "Or rather, not eating alone?"

She shrugs. "Didn't want to get hassled by Dr. Howard and Dr. Fine. You two have been all kinds of up my ass lately."

Dean considers a witty rejoinder to her remark but decides to shy away from doing so. Wrong timing. "We're a little concerned and I think we should be."

"Or you're both overreacting over nothing and it's annoying." Lizzy arches an eyebrow at him in challenge.

"We're not overreacting. You've been off and sooner or later you gotta get outta this funk. You're making me a little sketched here."

"As always…" she rolls her eyes.

"So talk to me and make me stop worrying then."

Lizzy looks up at him with discomfort and plenty of anger. He's been on her nonstop for days to open up and it feels like a cruel joke. All this time, nearly three years, and she used to hate the fact that he never really wanted to get into serious conversations. Hell, he never even used to ask her how she was doing. Now that she just needed some time he won't leave her alone. Fucking irony.

"Sorry Freud," Lizzy huffs. "But I was just looking for a little peace this morning. No Winchesters pestering me." She turns her attention back to her computer screen, the laptop she treated herself to after getting tired of prying eyes always seeing everything she's looking at on Sam's computer. And she's tired of the one laptop between the three of them breaking down with Dean's still-going love for Busty Asian Beauties here and there. She's still trying to figure out that weird fetish….

"That's all it was?" Dean wonders, knowing she's lying through her teeth. With her heart always on her sleeve, Lizzy couldn't hide when something was wrong… ever. She's completely transparent.

"Yup," she brushes off and picks up a fork. If she's going to try and get him off her back, she needs to eat. She spears a piece of cantaloupe and pops it into her mouth as her waitress walks up to their table.

"G'mornin' hon," the middle aged and rather plump woman says brightly to Dean. "What can I getcha?"

"Uh, eggs, scrambled, toast, bacon, and a coffee." Dean orders his default breakfast as he's too concerned with his girl at the moment to think about what else to eat.

"Not a problem," the woman smiles and disappears.

By the time she's gone, Lizzy is already staring at her computer again and ignoring him.

"Alright, I'm just gonna level with you here," Dean starts while leaning forward over the table and speaking low. "I know something's up with you."

"Oh do you?" Lizzy vies with narrowed eyes. Like this was a surprise for her. She can still feel his emotions. He's been concerned about her for days.

"I do. And it's freaking me out a little. L, you're the only one who holds their shit together out of this little group but the past three days… you've been weird."

"Weird?" She keeps questioning him, hoping that she can somehow wear him down and make him give up. She's done it before.

"Yes, weird!" he harshly whispers so that he doesn't shout. "You've been eating less, you've had your face glued to that computer almost every free second you've had. I mean, come on! I tried to bring you to bar last night and you said no!"

"I didn't feel like being out with people and drinking."

"I know! And that's weird!" Dean takes a deep breath and leans forward a little more to keep himself quiet. "We haven't had sex in, like, three days."

"Here you go, hon," the plump waitress announces and puts a plate of food in front of Dean with a big smile.

"Ha, uh, thanks," Dean answers, hoping she wasn't listening to him.

"Wow, three days," Lizzy says very flatly once the waitress left their table, making fun of his concern over such a short time without fucking.

"L, that's like a drought! Two days, yeah, maybe, but three when we haven't been that busy? That's unheard of."

Inhaling deeply and letting it out with her eyes closed, Lizzy peers at him with a little bit of pity. She knows she hasn't been easy the past three days.

"I'm a fucking girl, Hot Shot. I'm emotional. Get over it."

"Bullshit," Dean shakes his head. "You only get super emotional when you're at your 'time of the month' but that isn't happening right now."

"How do you know that?" Lizzy as to ask. What, does he keep track of her days?

"Well, every time Flo's in town you become a grade-A bitch for a couple days and you haven't been a bitch. You've just been really distant," Dean tells her what they all know. She's an emotional person as it is so when she gets her period Sam and Dean both duck for cover for a few days. "Also, the bathroom trash is looking pretty empty."

"You checked the trash?" Lizzy wonders with annoyance at his tactics.

"I had to," Dean answers with sorry eyes. "You aren't talking to me."

The hurt expression on his face makes him look so small, so vulnerable, that it causes Lizzy to feel awful that she's been so off.

"I'm sorry I've been so difficult," Lizzy stubbornly tells him, hating to admit that she's been mean. "I'm still worried about Jesse and, I don't know, you're right. I've been in a funk."

As usual, Lizzy found herself bonding with the little antichrist they ran into two weeks ago and she really was worried about him. And hunts with kids always affected her extra hard. It sounded like a plausible excuse for her poor mood so she runs with it.

"I'm sure he's fine," Dean says calmly. "That kid can do anything, kill anything with just a thought. Fuck, he turned Cas into a G.I. Joe. He'll make it just fine."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"I am right," Dean winks at her as he finally picks up his fork. "I'm always right."

"Lucky me," Lizzy sarcastically responds while turning back to her laptop. "So I think I found something."

"What, like a job?" Dean asks with a mouthful of eggs.

"Yes, a job," she answers as she turns her computer to face him.

"But that's Sam-work," Dean tells her as he takes a bit of bacon, knowing they both usually let Sam find the new hunts. Neither of them were very studio or patient enough for hunt searches.

"Not this time," Lizzy answers, pointing to the screen. "LA. Some elderly people disappeared."

"Could just be senility," Dean tried to rationalize as he begins skimming the article. "Grandma went for a walk to find the cat she forgot died a year ago and got lost."

"Could be, but I doubt three senile old people would have had the presence of mind to carve a likeness of themselves out of a tree trunk to leave behind before they wander off into the world."

"What?" Dean asks with a scrunched up face as he scrolls through the article with three pictures, each one a missing person.

"Yeah, I know. This article from a local LA newspaper is pretty fucking strange. Something is definitely up and I want to check it out."

"You find this shit this morning?"

"Yup."

"Nice," Dean compliments. "Good work."

"Thanks," Lizzy answers a little more brightly than before as she closes the computer and gathers it up. "I'm gonna go see what Sam thinks."

"What? You're just gonna ditch a guy and make him eat all on his lonesome?" Dean asks incredulously while looking for her company. She's been so far away that he was enjoying what little he's managed to get out of her this morning.

"Sorry dude." Lizzy gets up, things in her hands and untouched fruit still on the table. "See ya' in a few." She heads towards the door and doesn't look back.

"Yeah…"


"I agree, this definitely looks like something to go check out," Sam tells her the second he reads over the article she found.

"I know," she concurs wholeheartedly.

"Doesn't make sense at all, though."

"Right? I mean, carvings of the missing… that's some seriously fucked up shit."

"You're telling me. I've never heard of anything like this." Sam starts clicking away on his own computer, sitting opposite Lizzy on her own laptop like they're playing a game of battleship, and soon he realizes the table they're at is shaking. He looks underneath it and sees Lizzy's knee bouncing a mile a minute. With a smirk he brings his head back up and peers at her.

"What?" Lizzy exasperatedly asks him when she catches him staring at her.

"You nervous or something?"

"No," she says quickly. "Why?"

"You're shaking the table." Sam smiles at her and she stops. "You seem nervous."

"I'm not nervous, Sam. Shut up." From Dean's brain to her mouth.

"Ok," Sam nods as he looks once more at his laptop. The quiet that descends upon the small room irks him. He tries to let it go but he can't. "Lizzy, do you want to talk…"

"Oh my God! Are you kidding with that!?" Lizzy shouts at him, making Sam's eye go wide in surprise with her tone. He hates that tone. It's terrifying. "What the fuck is wrong with the two of you!?"

Staring at her for a beat while dumbfounded, Sam rediscovers his voice. "Um, I don't know…"

"Three years, Sam! Three fucking years of feeling like I'm shouting at two massive brick walls, and now both of you want to talk to me!?" Lizzy stands, shoving her chair away from the table as she does, and shuts her laptop. "Can't deal with you two anymore. You're fucking impossible."

Sam keeps him mouth shut as Lizzy grabs her duffle and heads for the bathroom. A few seconds after she slams the door so hard it makes him jump a little, he hears the shower start and finally lets out the breath he'd been holding since she yelled at him.

He's at a loss with her. Whatever is going on with Lizzy, he and Dean are both highly concerned and for the first time ever, she's actually shutting them out. This can't be good.


"Hey," Dean says in a low tone when he gets back from the diner. He sees Sam sitting at the table with Lizzy's laptop in front of him. "What're you doing?"

"Do you know Lizzy's password?" Sam asks with a furrowed brow as he stares at the screen.

"Ah, no," Dean admits with hesitation. "She never told me it."

"Damn it," Sam quietly complains.

"Why are you trying to get on her computer?"

"Because I want to figure out what's wrong with her and maybe her browser history will help," Sam says, frustrated while running a hand through his hair. "She yelled at me."

"Why?"

"I said she seemed nervous."

"And she yelled at you for that!?" Dean asks incredulously.

"Oh yeah. Yelled. With the scary voice."

"Damn it, I hate that voice," Dean grumbles as he looks over to the bathroom door. They both hate the scary voice. She uses it only when at her most angry. "She been in there long?"

"Yeah," Sam answers while looking at his phone to check the time. "Like twenty minutes."

"She'll be out soon then," Dean tells Sam as he walks to the table and shuts Lizzy laptop. "Not gonna get my balls chopped off for trying to hack into her computer. I doubt you want to either."

"Good thinking," Sam agrees, turning his attention back to his own computer. "I think she was on to something though."

"With the missing geezers?" Dean asks, looking back to the bathroom door when he hears the shower turn off.

"Yeah," Sam laughs quietly. "It's definitely an interesting case. I think it's worth looking into."

"Wouldn't mind heading back to California," Dean adds in. "Some sun, some relaxed attitudes… maybe L will loosen up out there."

"It's gonna be about a two day drive with an overnight stop though," Sam adds in. "We should head out soon."

"Sounds good to me," Dean answers, ready to get into the car. A little music, a little driving, his spirits should lift after that. "Just let me grab a shower before we go."

"Sure."

Dean grabs his duffle off the floor and heads for the bathroom door, knocking quietly.

"Yeah?" Lizzy calls out from the other side.

"I'm jumping in the shower," Dean gives her a heads up and turns the door knob. It's locked.

"I'll be right out, hold on," Lizzy answers to him.

Dean shares a confused look with Sam. Usually when Dean wanted into the bathroom she let him right in. Hell, they've showered together uncountable amounts of times, so her locking him out is just plain weird behavior for her. Add it to the ever growing list.

The bathroom door opens and Lizzy walks out. "All yours," she smiles up to him and plops down onto a bed and rifles through her things.

"Thanks," Dean drawls out and heads into the shower. Now he's more than worried.