Olivia smoothed her hair back and rubbed her eyes one more time. She was getting tired, but she needed to get all this straight. She turned back, pacing behind Sam as he sat at the table, reading back to her details of the police report.

"So, you knew who we were before you even saw us?" She should have felt more exposed, more fearful, but she had to trust him. He knew who - what - had come after them and Olivia needed answers. "And those were - let me get this right - demons in my house?"

"Yep," Sam replied. They'd been over this a dozen times now. After the initial revelation, Olivia had gone with Sam back to the boys' room. She needed answers and wasn't in the mood to wait. Dean remained behind to look after Jenny while they talked. Sam had hoped a change in location would ease Olivia into revealing just how those two had taken on the demons.

"You do realize you sound like an absolute nut bar right now," Olivia stopped pacing and laughed. She dropped into the chair across from Sam, exhausted with the mere thought of what he was suggesting.

"But you know I'm right," he shut his laptop and slid it from between them. He focused on her now, deadly serious. "Olivia, you need to tell me what happened. We need to skip the part where you come to terms with the fact that the monsters under your bed are very real indeed and you need to tell me how you and your daughter got out of that house alive."

"But - " she began, helplessly.

"But what? I won't believe you?" Now Sam laughed, and Olivia leaned forward to the table, resting her face in her hands. She told him. She told him everything, and he listened. How they'd come into her house, intent on Jenny from the start. How, when she was able to get her hands on one of them, she'd felt that strange ripple of energy and somehow just forced the life out of one of them. How they'd gotten the upper hand and she was sure they'd be dead by morning, except that Jenny saved them. She hadn't seen just what happened, but she'd felt the wave of light and heat that decimated the remaining attackers. Something was different about Jenny; something had always been different about Jenny, and whatever it was put her in danger. The whole damnable night just tumbled out and when the torrent of words was done, she finally looked at Sam. He hadn't moved the whole time she spoke, but he didn't look all that surprised. He believed her - every word of it, even the things she'd never had the strength to think, much less speak. She should have felt relieved, but instead it felt like she was dragging these two guys into the crosshairs of something terrible.

"I'd tell you to run - to get as far away from us as you can - but something tells me you wouldn't listen," she finished, and put her face back in her hands for a moment. Something like tears stung at the corner of her eye. She felt a hand on her shoulder, warm and reassuring, a kind of comfort she hadn't had since Peter. She looked up, and for a minute, felt hopeful.

"Not only are we staying, I think we can help you. There's some - "

At that, Olivia just let go, not even letting Sam finish his thought. After the kind of night she'd had, sobbing onto a stranger's shoulder didn't even register as mildly weird. The fear and anger she'd held in since the fire came out in gulping, undignified, if somewhat muffled wails. Sam just held her carefully, waiting for the storm to pass, caught a bit off guard, but not terribly surprised. Maybe her reality was already broken long before he and Dean showed up, but he knew better than most that there was a vast difference between thinking something might be out there and staring your nightmares right in the eye.

He slid an arm around her carefully, trying to offer a little support to her slowly wilting form, and brushed up against her bruised ribs. She jerked back instinctively, dragging a sleeve across her face as she stepped back. Snot and tears smeared across her face, leaving a shiny, half-dry trail.

"I … uh .. I'm - "she stuttered her way into an embarrassed half-apology. Sam stopped her and motioned to her side.

"Are you hurt? I have some supplies," he nodded at their own pile of packs in the corner, a faded red case poking out of the nearest pack. Olivia backed up a bit, but eventually flipped up the hem of her shirt just enough to reveal the fading bruises across her ribs. Some were still blue-black and angry-looking, but the edges were just starting to fade to green and yellow. Sam absently reached for her, but she jerked her shirt back down and turned away.

"I took a couple of solid shots to the ribs, I guess," she shrugged and began shuffling toward the door, "It's healing. I should get back to Jenny, she's probably - "

"Stay a minute, Olivia. You look like you need a break," Sam turned and began rummaging through the second pack, coming back with a half-bottle of scotch. He dropped it on the table and disappeared into the bathroom momentarily as he kept talking. "Look, I know it sucks to be on the run all the time. Must suck twice as much running with your kid" He reappeared with two paper cups and a couple of washcloths. "I also know if you keep going like this, you're going to wear yourself out and you're going to fuck up. Something seriously evil is after you and they are just waiting for that moment, trust me. Jenny's safe where she is right now, and so are 're not alone - you don't have to be alone in this."

Olivia rejoined Sam by the table, uncapping the bottle and pouring a healthy shot for herself. She tipped it back in one quick motion and let the burn warm her as she reconsidered. Safe. When was the last time I thought we were safe? She sat on the edge of the bed and let Sam wipe her face as he continued to talk.

"This will help - I'm going to tape your ribs until they heal some more. Trust me, I've broken enough to know." He set aside the cloth and filled his own cup, took a quick drink and picked up the red case. He extracted a roll of wide tape and scissors, and motioned at her shirt. She exposed her ribs again, resisting the urge to pull back as he smoothed the tape over her injuries. His fingers tripped across an older scar as he placed the last piece of tape - one from the first fire - and she pulled back again. Enough of that …

"You said that when you fought the demons off in your house, you said you just pushed the life out of one of them?" Sam turned and replaced the tape and scissors, continuing his questions.

"Yeah," she said, pouring another shot but just to sip this time. "What was that?"

"Well, if it's what I think it is, you kind of exorcized them. Did you learn to do that somewhere? " he replied, taking another drink and watching her response, settling back on his heels for a moment in front of her. Olivia laughed nervously and smoothed her hair back again.

"This is - this is all still really weird for me," she chuckled, gazing at the ceiling for a moment, then answered his question, "No, nobody taught me anything. It just happened … lots of things seem to just happen around me. I'm like flypaper for freaky shit."

"Like what?" Sam sat forward. Olivia had more to tell, and other than his own experiences, the only other beings he'd ever seen pull off that particular party trick were angels.

She took another drink and turned her face back to the ceiling. God, why am I doing this?

"The other night, with the demons .. that wasn't the first time I've done something like that." She resettled herself before going on, tucking her legs under her, trying to feel smaller just for a minute. "The fire back home … the one Jenny talked about. Did you know Jenny was in the house when that happened?"

Sam looked up at her from the floor and took a slow drink. "How old was she?"

"Ten. She and James were ten and Louisa was only six. Jenny was the only one I could get to in time." Her eyes burned again and she swiped mindlessly, pushing back more tears.

"She looks like she's healed well -" Sam began, but Olivia stopped him.

"See, that's the thing. Jenny was right in the middle of the fire - by the time I found her, the ceiling had fallen in. She was burning - Sam, I watched her burning alive right in front of me. And I still don't know why, but I just reached for her and pulled her out. I just hung on tight and pulled her right out of it. By the time I got her outside, though, she was fine. It was like she just -"

"Healed," Sam finished, watching her more intently now. Sound like anyone else we know? He shook his head, pushing away the thought. No fucking way.

"She's only got one scar on her arm from the whole ordeal. And you know what's really weird?"

"What?"

"She never cried. Not even once."