Hey! Here's another chapter! I would really appreciate some reviews, to know if this is what you guys were looking for, and a huge thank you to those who have. I love you!

-Han

"Hey, man," Sam said quietly, looking at the counter. "She left her journal." He pointed to the leather-bound diary, a conflicted look on his face.

"No," Dean said quickly, stopping the line of thinking before it could erupt and take over his younger brother's brain. "We're not goin' down that road," he said stiffly.

"Why not? We already watched the video," Sam said, looking intently at it. Dean looked down, something close to shame on his face at the reminder. "Look man, I like her too, but we can't risk going on the road with someone we barely know," he said logically. He didn't want to fall into that trap again. Look where Ruby got him.

"Maybe you don't, but I do," Bobby spoke from the doorframe, his hands stilled on his wheels.

"Can we trust her?" Dean asked softly, something in him praying the answer would be yes and nothing else. No hang ups. No fine print.

"With your lives. With your souls. It doesn't matter, she'll have your backs," he said with a sort of fatherly pride that Dean didn't think he'd ever heard before.

"How can we know?" Sam asked desperately, the pain in his eyes so palpable that Dean wished he could help him.

Bobby was quiet for a long moment, his eyes growing far away and sad. "The day she got out of the hospital, after John and I saved her," he said quietly, not really acknowledging how much he was telling them. "She looked up at me and I swear it looked like she was hit by a truck. In an old dress of my wife's, and covered in gauze. She looked up at me and said 'I don't want another person to ever have to feel like this. You have to help me help them. Help me be like you,'" he said quietly, his body seeming to sag in his chair as he said it.

The room was quiet as he let the words sink in, never breaking eye contact with the boys. Dean was trying to decipher his own feelings, wondering why it hurt too much to think about her like that.

He left without another word, his wheels making a hollow sound that Dean thought was reflected in the last glimpse he had of the man's eyes, and nothing Dean could have said would have summed up how he felt. He felt his head pounding with just the idea of her, wounded and broken and scared. It just didn't feel right.

"Is that good enough for you?" Dean asked softly, his head lowered. Sam was quiet for a long moment, one so long Dean would have thought he'd simply left the room.

"Yeah, I guess," he muttered. Doubt still lingered in both of their minds, they wouldn't be hunters if it didn't, but neither could deny that she checked out. Dean would be lying, now, if he said that he didn't want her to.

Xx

Kat was out on the porch, looking blankly over the fields of broken cars. Broken dreams, means to an end, crushed and forgotten. She was leaning against the banister, hands spread carefully to avoid splinters.

"Heard you laughing," Bobby said quietly from behind her. She watched him awkwardly roll himself onto the porch with her and smiled softly, something rare and beautiful to the older man.

"I don't know what happened," she said quietly. "It just sort of, took over. I didn't know it felt that good. Do normal people feel like that all the time?" Her voice was soft and quiet and Bobby could barely hear her.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, looking back at her levelly. "But I am proud of you for given' them boys a chance," he told her, smiling one of his rare smiles.

"I don't know how it'll work out," she said quietly, "But I think I like them."

"More than you can say for half the people you meet," Bobby snorted. The laughter died on his lips and he looked to Kat in that fatherly way that made you think of home and love and gruffness all at once. "You're given' them just a bit of hope, somethin' they need," he said softly.

"I don't think they're used to it," she replied just as softly, her eyes still trained on broken cars. "It's not like I do much anyway."

"You're sayin' what they need to hear and you're doin' it without dippin' it in sugar," Bobby said flatly, recalling the soft words she'd spoken to Sam in his kitchen.

"I'm not some kind of hero, Bobby," she said firmly. "I'm just telling them the truth."

"But you are one," Bobby whispered, looking up at her from his chair, but she felt as if he were looking down at her with pride in his eyes. She shook her head slowly, black hair swishing around her face and her eyes smiling at him while her lips remained leveled into a smirk.

"Only to you," she said softly.

"You should probably get moving," Bobby said after a long moment, one Kat wished she could extend. It was unlike her to want to hold still in a moment like this, but the air around them was so calm and peaceful and she'd let her façade of a warrior drop for just a moment. A child emerged from the depths of her mind, sharing a moment with a father she wanted to make proud.

She sighed, something resigned and heavy, and her back straightened once again. "Yeah, we should," she agreed, moving back inside after another lingering look over the lot. Bobby thought she looked to be made of stone. The man sighed, slowly picking himself up in his chair to stand straighter, and look like it wasn't hurting him to see her go.