I was driving aimlessly, I did that a lot now that Sam was at Stanford. It wasn't like evil took a holiday, I just didn't have it in me sometimes to go looking for it. I would just drive around the country like it was nothing, like I had somewhere to be, when in fact I have no where to be.

I was just between the point of sighing out of boredom and turning on the radio when my cell rang. To be honest, I hadn't heard the thing make a noise in over two weeks and the sound startled the hell out of me. I didn't recognize the number, but answered it anyway.

"Hello?"

"Is this Dean?"

"Who is this?"

"This is Edna Fowler. I was told that you know some things about things."

"Yes ma'am I do."

"I have a ghost…I think it's my husband…"

"Ma'am?"

"He's been gone for years…twenty to be exact. He's been hanging around, and at first I felt comforted, and it was wonderful. But as the years go on, he's getting antsy, well, he's getting to be slightly….testy I think is the right word."

"Testy?"

"Yes. He throws things now when I'm not paying attention, or if I haven't spoken to him. A couple of days ago, I told him that he needed to move on, to go into the light so to speak, and I just want him there so when I get there we can be together again. I'm 78 years old. It won't be too much longer. Well, anyway, I thought he went. I was so happy for him. But turns out he didn't' go or stay gone or…oh dear I don't know. But now he just seems more angry with me. I just want him to go to heaven, just want him to be there when I get there. Can you help me?"

And because I am Dean Winchester and don't know how to say no to anyone in their time of need, I went, and it didn't take long before her husband manifested, and boy oh boy did he manifest. He started throwing things and they were aimed straight for my head. He really didn't seem to like me much.

The old ghost managed to clip me once and then nail me straight in the forehead with something that looked like an apple. That one about knocked me out and I'm fairly certain it's going to leave a big purple bump. That will most certainly be attractive. But once I started talking, once I made the ghost become something that we both could see, I was able to talk to the man, explain to him that his wife just wanted him to go to the light, go to a better place and wait for her there. Then old Edna started to cry and reiterated what I said, she told him how much she loved him and that she missed him, but he needed to leave, to be happy for a while. I am pretty sure her tears did more to convince the old man more than anything I did. But when she started to cry the ghost stopped throwing things at my head, and he looked sad as he watched his wife cry, told her several times to stop crying, that he couldn't' take it anymore, and she told him that the only way she would ever be able to stop was if he moved on. And after one last ghostly kiss he did fade and then step into an overwhelming light. I turned and watched as Edna took one last heaving sigh and wiped the tears from her eyes.

"It's like he died all over again."

"I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say, I've lost friends to death, Hell, I've even lost my brother, and it was like he died when he left, but I truly don't know how to empathize. My dad was right al of those years ago, I didn't understand the people part of the job, I am just best with a gun. But with Dad and Sam gone, who was supposed to do this part of the job? If they both thought I was too stupid to do this why did they both leave me?

"It had to be done. I let him hang around for too many years. I just couldn't let him go." did. I watched her for a moment, I wanted to hug her, but she was a complete stranger, and in my life, hugs and kisses and signs of affection are strictly weaknesses, things to be used against you later. Instead, I nodded turned and squatted and began collecting things from the floor and stuffing them into my duffel bag.

"How much to I owe you?" she asked after a few minutes of collecting herself. I looked up at her and her eyes still glistened with tears. It seemed so wrong to be asked how much you are owed when a person just lost the love of their life.

"Nothing ma'am."

"Oh come on now young man. You got knocked in the head, you surely want some kind of payment."

"No. No ma'am. I don't do this for money."

"Then you have to stay for breakfast."

"Oh, no, I can't trouble you like that."

"But you have to eat."

"You have to be tired. It's been a long night for you."

"I won't be able to get to sleep."

"You should at least try. You are going to be exhausted tomorrow if you don't."

"Are you mother henning me young man?" I felt the blush creep up my cheeks. I used to mother hen Sam, and he's been gone a while, I guess the instinct is still there. Go figure.

"No, ma'am."

"You are eating. That is final." She said with her hands on her hips. "You will go up to the bathroom and you will wash your hands and be ready for breakfast in a few minutes. You like pancakes don't you?"

At the mention of pancakes my mouth began to water. "Yes. I do." I admitted unwillingly and as if for more embarrassment my stomach grumbled.

"Good, that settles it. Go on now. Get cleaned up." I nodded and put my duffel by the front door and did as she instructed because I was fairly certain I didn't have any other option. She was a very demanding woman. After washing I went back downstairs and stood in the kitchen doorway.

"Can I help?" he asked.

"No. What you can do is sit right down and get comfortable." I pulled the kitchen chair out and sat down. "So, Dean, what do you do when you aren't putting ghosts to rest?"

"I don't do anything else." She turned to me, brow knitted together in confusion, like I told her I dressed in a pink bunny suit in my off time.

"And you don't take money for your services, or do you just give free passes to old women?"

"No, ma'am I don't take money for this."

"So, how do you keep that big beautiful machine in gas, and clothes on your back." I looked her in the eye, I didn't want her to see my shame, didn't want her to see the scared boy that the girl back at Truman saw. Didn't want to be called out for being a loser.

"I have my ways."

"I bet those ways aren't exactly honest are they."

"I get by."

"You get by." She said and put a plate in front of me and sat down next to me. "That doesn't sound very promising." I shrugged, and looked at the steaming pile of pancakes in front of me, and found myself unsure if I was really welcome to them.

"It's all I know."

"It's all you know? You, a smart, young, nice looking boy…taking care of ghosts is all you know?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm not the smart one in the family. That's my little brother. He's at Stanford. Full ride. Sammy is going to be a lawyer. He can argue you until you die."

"Wow. Full ride to Stanford. That's impressive. Football?"

"No. Academic. He's a genius." I always feel more at ease when I talk about Sam, I don't know why since his absence is what makes me sad and lonely.

"Wow. He is smart." She said and began to eat her own pancakes. "I had a student or two that made it there on academics. That's a lot of hard work." So, she had been a teacher. Wow was she going to be super not impressed with me. High school drop out and all around moron. Yeah, that's the kind of kid that just got rid of your dead husband. I shrugged and thought about my brother and all of the work he did to get into the prestigious school and it made me smile a little.

"He worked all of the time. All of the time. He would sit in the car while we were driving to another hunt and he would read and do homework, he was always working, always thinking."

"And you? You are just good for hunting ghosts?"

I shrugged. "Yeah. That's my job. I'm good at that. I'm good at killing things."

"What were you good at in school? Because something tells me that they didn't have ghost hunting as a career choice."

"School?" I scoffed. "I wasn't good at school."

"Not so good grades?"

"Naw." I shrugged. "Doesn't matter really."

"You never finished did you?" My head snapped up. She saw right through me. She knew. I must have it tattooed on my forehead.

"What?"

"I know that look. I used to get it from former students who would come back and tell me they wished they'd listened, wished that they had finished school. You didn't finish did you?"

"No. I didn't. I wasn't any good. Too cocky I guess."

"You decided to go into this business. This fighting supernatural things business."

"Yeah. It's in the blood I guess."

"But your brother…"

"Was too good for this life. Too smart. He needs to be out in California, doing what he's doing. He's just too smart for this…."

"That's hogwash if I ever heard it. You are just trying to justify feeling bad for yourself. I think that's a load of crap young man." That was most certainly not the response I had anticipated. Thee was a lot more to this Edna Fowler. "Okay, that's it. You are staying here, helping me around this house. Fixing the roof, and the porch, and the plumbing, and I'm going to teach you, and you are going to get your GED. That's that. Now. Go and get your things while I wash up."

"Mrs. Fowler…I can't…no…I…" She was putting me to work, she wanted to educate me. My goodness didn't she know that was a lost cause? If she wants her roof fixed, I'll do that for free, she doesn't' have to bother trying to teach me.

"I didn't realize I had given you an option young man. Go, get your things."

"But you don't know me….I could be a serial killer."

"If you were, you would have killed me already. Now, go and do what you were told." Confused, I stood and did as instructed.