Again, like the first night, our tired eyes stung with the glow of the rising sun. Clouds of various colors stretched along the sky ahead, the brilliant beam of light poking through any holes it could find. The rain drops from the light shower earlier would catch the reflection, causing a few specks of light to dance along the roof of Leah's car or our skin. The drive was quiet. Dead quiet. Leah drove with one hand on the wheel, her other balled into a fist, pressing into her cheek as she leaned into it. She had tried to act light and friendly once the job was done, but she quickly caught on and allowed me to stew in my racing thoughts and aching heart. I, myself, was lazily slopped against the door, legs spread out before me with throbbing, bare feet. Numb arms resting in my lap as my eyes watched the houses, schools and stores pass us by. I thought about the people who sat inside. Their minds fuzzy and tired eyes adjusting to the morning's light as they sipped on coffee or rushed about the kitchen to get the children ready for school. I thought about how I knew them. How I had grown up with them. How I learned about them and their families and how they learned of mine.

With a sharp intake of breath, feeling my lower lip begin to tremble, I brought my hand up to my mouth and allowed my teeth to clamp down on to a digit to keep my composure. I had grown to trust these people and now I felt completely as if the world was my enemy. I could flee the country and still find myself on guard as anyone who has been touched by darkness would be.

I barely found myself able to move as the car slowed to a stop in my driveway, but somehow I managed to push the door open and drag my ass out and towards my home. Leah, who had since stripped herself of the thick black clothing, giving me the hoodie to cover up with, leaving her in torn leggings and an old band T, followed closely behind, quietly shutting the door as she stepped inside. It was painfully quiet in this house. I heard every bird, every creak in the floorboards and every soft hum of a distant car.

Leah hadn't moved from the front door. Instead she filled the silence as her eyes stared at the back of my head. I could feel it but my gaze was unknowingly locked on the stupid cat clock in the kitchen. Watching the seconds tick away and soon, the scene had began to blur together as a familiar feeling came flooding back.

I held back a pitiful cry with teeth clenched and fists at my side, letting my eyes slip shut.

"Evalyn," Leah spoke softly. The weight of her hand on my shoulder shocking me back to life, turning at a blinding speed to swat her hand away. "I don't wanna hear it! I really fucking don't. I don't need this pity party bullshit. I don't need kind words, I just-" I trailed off at that, noticing her expression was unwavering and strong. For a moment I felt bad at shouting at her, but she looked as if she understood and respected my response.

We stared at one another before I took one step closer to her, muttering, "Did you hear that filthy son of a bitch? He practically gloated about it! He fucking loved that he killed an innocent girl! He loved that he took her away from her family and you know what? I'm glad he's dead. I'm overjoyed that you killed him and that-" Pausing, I allowed myself to soak in the realization and to possibly accept it. Though I didn't want to, it would make it easier. Or so I thought.

"that makes me just like him. It makes me just like them." Her face scrunched up as the words sunk in, her lips parting to reply but I cut her off before she could even start. "It does! Don't you dare tell me that me feeling like this and doing these things doesn't make me just like them! They have families too, yet here I am, not giving a shit. I don't care about their redeeming qualities. All I care about is making sure they don't get to enjoy the rest of their lives, just like Tyler." As a tear reached the surface, it spilled over, instantly wiped away by dirty hands and when I looked back to my companion, my breath halted in my chest.

Her nose was cherry red, lips pursed into a thin line and her eyes watery. Not once have I seen her like this. I couldn't tell if this madness was weighing on her, or if my meltdown was rubbing off on her. Either way, I couldn't handle it and I simply broke in her arms. I felt like a child as I fell against her, searching for any form of comfort, though she cried with me. Arms wrapped tightly around me as I buried my face into her shoulder, staining her grubby shirt as I sobbed. I didn't hold her, I was too weak to squeeze onto the only source of light I had. The only one who was on my level. I had my parents but they didn't know the things that I knew and I wasn't planning on changing that. They couldn't handle it.

I mumbled and choked on my words of self hate. Bashing myself for letting her leave that night and tearing myself apart for following their same dark path that I couldn't ween myself off of. Leah would hush me and stroke my hair, reassuring me that this wasn't my fault. She repeated her words over and over again, growing softer and softer until I had finally calmed down enough to release, though she still held me by my shoulders as I pulled away, hands frantically wiping away the tears. I let out a pathetic chuckle as I caught sight of shirt now covered in make up and wet splotches. I apologized and she simply smiled in response.

Straightening my posture and stepping out of her grip, I slipped the borrowed jacket from my torso and returned it to her hands stained with Earth and spoke lowly, "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" And with a soft, breathy reply, she agreed and turned away to the door, collecting a few things along the way and as her palm was pressed to the cold handle, she spoke without facing me, "No matter how much you think it, you're nothing like them." With a deep breath, she opened the door and walked into the morning light, not to be seen or heard from again until after we both regained our strength.

My bruised and battered feet which had been shoe-less since Laurence's house, carried me up the soft, carpeted stairs at a snails pace. I was putting every ounce of energy into getting to the top floor and once I was there, I let out a great sigh as I let my head roll back. The rest of my short journey was easy from here.

As I made my way towards the dark bathroom, my hands slid up my back, fingers working the zipper until I had it carefully gliding downwards, delivering my body from its confinement, especially my boobs which had been pushed up and held in place for hours. The straps were next to go and before I completely disrobed, I flicked the light switch on, mildly startled by the image in the mirror.

The woman that stared back at me was tired, drained and troubled. Her make up from the previous night had smeared, her hair that had been hidden under a heavy wig was dull and flat and bags had reclaimed their place just beneath her eyes. This person staring back at me was the one who had spent countless days buying everything they could possibly need for a single attack and then tripling that amount. This girl was the one who stayed up late at nights planning to execute a human being, who had taken on the roll of a monster, the same monster she was now. I hated what I saw. What was once a twinkle in my eye was now either a dull stare or a glare. I could end it all now and rebuild myself and find a better reflection each morning and night but the disturbing thing was was that I didn't want to.

I didn't want to stop.

I wanted to fix the wrong in the world but in the most brutal of ways and it was fucked up that a part of me was enjoying the ride. It was satisfying knowing that I had taken some evil away, but in doing so, I became it.

Removing the last remnants of make up, along with the dress, I dragged myself to my awaiting bed where I would be undoubtedly swallowed by nightmares.

By the time my eyes saw the light again, it was 6am the next day and it only lasted for a few moments. Once I emptied my bladder and fed myself, it was back to bed for a few more hours until I made an appearance at my job. It was unusually busy and thankfully, for once I had enough sleep and was wide awake, running wild through the store and doing what was demanded of me. Staying busy was good. For a few hours, I was unaware of the blood on my hands. My co-workers gave me strange yet pleased looks as they took in my new, slightly less gloomy attitude now that a weight was beginning to be lifted from my shoulders. Carol seemed the most happy, though she jokingly asked if I was 'on something.' But by the end of my long shift my energy had dissipated. My feet would drag behind me and I would give lazy smiles as I made my way out the door and to a nearby shop. The main entrance was barely visible due to the mass amount of hanging flowers and tall statues or bird houses made from wicker. I had slipped in between the small space, happy to find that the inside was much more organized and clean. Though the checkered tiles were stained by scuff marks and dirt. For awhile I simply admired the view. I took in everything I saw and once I had seen it all, I began collecting a mess of flowers. I admitted that I had no idea what I was doing or how to make a presentable bouquet, causing the employee to laugh. She quickly took my disastrous creation and set it aside to put away later, then asked what sort of theme I wanted. I answered with a mere "Purple," and she went on her way. She somehow created a masterpiece of small, simple flowers. Most of them the color I requested with white ones scattered about to spice it up with an even less amount of greens. The entire thing was wrapped in a sheer, lavender fabric. She tried asking who it was for, but I decided to glaze on over it and compliment the small building instead. She took that as a sign and didn't bother to bring it up again, giving me a sympathetic smile as I left.
Paranoid over the beautiful arrangement and how it might get ruined with one sharp turn or sudden speed, I drove slow and took my time. Turning a ten minute drive into a sixteen minute one and when I had arrived, I wished it would have taken me much longer.

With the car in park and the engine off, I sat for a moment with fingers lightly tapping the steering wheel, unsure of if this was a good idea or not. Yes, it'd be good to go and visit, but would I be able to handle it in my mental state? Would it make things worse or would it make them better? Would I help myself find peace by simply being here? Doubtful, but worth a shot.

And besides,

I missed talking to her. Even if she couldn't talk back.

Like a band-aid being ripped away, I swung open my door, flowers in hand and jacket tightly wound around my form to protect myself from the chilled wind. Locking the car, I began my journey up the small gravel hill, lined with the same beautiful flowers as last time. Their color shining like beacons through the grey, cloudy day. I counted my steps and watched closely as I passed landmarks, taking the necessary turns until I spotted my target. A smooth, curved, grey stone sitting atop of a short platform with large words and a floral design etched along the sides. It looked brand new, somehow. Not even a speck of dirt rested in the cracks of the words that read, "In loving memory of Tyler A Lewis. Your smile will not be forgotten. 1988-2006."

The lack of description of who she was and how she lived aggravated me to no end. I could write a novel about her and describe in perfect detail the way her feet pointed inward when she lingered in place or how she had a small twitch in her lips when she typed furiously on her computer. Her stiff shoulders and forced, crooked smile that trembled when she grew uncomfortable in a room full of strangers. The birthmark on her calf and how it resembled a tiny heart. The time she grew jealous of my ability to whistle when we were children, then spending a week at her friends house, secretly learning. She came home with a smile plastered on her face and pink in her cheeks and whistled for days. I could tell these stories about her, but no one would ever really know of the light that followed her wherever she went.

"Well," I breathed out. Rocking back and forth on my heels, careful not to rest too much weight on my toes as to not suddenly sink into the soft ground.

"I uh-I brought these." I spoke with little to no confidence, a lame shrug following after. "Thought I'd add to the collection." Squatting down low, I gently laid them across the plethora of other gifts delivered by family and friends. It stood out among them all. The others were all old, if only by a few hours. The light rain from earlier making them droop and seem rather pitiful compared to mine.

I didn't return to my prior position. Instead, I remained low to the ground. Fingers falling over the soft petals as my hand tried to retreat, but found itself soon pressed to the smooth surface of Tyler's marker, brushing away the droplets of water that slowly slid downward. A wave of goosebumps traveled up my arm as my thumb traced over her name, startling me enough to pull away, pressing the knuckles firmly into the dirt to keep myself steady and after staring long and hard at her headstone in silence, I let out a sigh.

"This is so stupid. I mean, you're not even here! Well you're here but not here. I'm talking to a fucking rock and you'd probably just laugh in my face because of it."

Falling back, I landed on my ass with a small thud, my shoulders slouched forward as I continued to glare at the block, waiting for something. Anything. I waited for the words to fall from my mouth as I confessed my the ache in my broken heart. I waited for comfort and relief but nothing ever came and so with the flick of my wrists, I surrendered.

"I've got nothin'. I really thought this would help but so far I'm just feeling really awkward."

I tried to swap our places. What would she do if she was the one standing over my grave? She would grow weak with sadness and collapse, clutching her chest as she gasped for air and I was beginning to feel awful for not being that person now. I was still distraught over this loss, but right here and now, I just couldn't connect. I couldn't talk to a fucking stone and pretend it was her. She knew me well. She would understand. Instead, I sat with her and picked at the grass that had long since grown and listened to the birds chirp to one another. I ripped and ripped at the base of her headstone. The blades seemed out-of-place in my mind. Too tall in this evenly cut lot and with much care I moved around and under the mass of bouquets, removing the ones I simply didn't like, almost tugging a bright yellow flower from its plastic confinement, only to quickly realize, it had been instead apart of the Earth. All around me, the only flowers you would find were the ones that were planted or simply placed beneath a name. There was a slight ache in my heart as I pulled the simple beauty from its place, a smirk quickly forming as I realized it wasn't even a flower, just a weed. But this weed had given me some sort of comfort as I placed it in the crook of my ear. Though I wasn't religious in any sense, I felt as if it was a sign. Like she was telling me she was alright and the mere thought of that had brought tears to my eyes.

With hands clasped together and resting between my legs, I looked up to the sky. My vision quickly growing foggy and before I could allow it to get any worse, my eyes sealed shut. With the sounds of distant traffic and the whistling wind as it danced through the leaves I was able to find peace. A crooked smile would sneak its way in every few seconds when a squirrel or two shrieked in fear from the tree tops and somewhere in the mess, a thunderous engine that had steadily gotten louder and louder before vanishing completely. At first, I saw no one and I tried to turn away but curiosity had gotten the best of me. I wanted to see who would be joining me in either mourning, or really uncomfortable talks with someone who was long gone.

I wasn't expecting to see a black Impala and a very familiar face inside of it. He didn't seem to be a visitor, instead it seemed he was searching for someone. Eyes wide and quizzical as he peered around and once our eyes locked, Ford panicked and almost shrunk away in his seat, causing me to snicker.

Dean POV

Shit, shit, shit!

That was not supposed to happen. I was supposed to be a whole lot better at this following thing but lately I've been stumbling. Literally. Tripping over my own damn feet. Knocking things over and drawing unnecessary attention to myself. I was off my fucking game and I had no idea why.

I could drive away right now. I could act as if this never happened.

Averting my gaze ever so subtly back in her direction, I saw that instead of sitting down, she was casually making her way down the short hill, dusting the dirt from her ass.

And what an ass she said.

The moment her footsteps became audible, reality had pulled me from my short little daydream and I immediately began to look busy. Scrambling through the glove box, I tossed useless junk from its depths in search of something to occupy myself with. I grabbed the first thing I could find, flipped it open and laid it out across my lap, peering down at it, trying to look completely engulfed by its contents, when I never really saw it. I was too busy listening and waiting for her to simply walk on by.

When her steps had faded away, I let out the breath I had been holding, finally able to relax in my seat, though that quickly ended as I caught sight of the magazine in my hands, my pants suddenly feeling a bit too tight.

It was Playboy.

"Is that the latest issue?"

Practically jumping in my seat, I slammed the thin book closed, my knee propping up to shield it away from the world. But felt my lips twitch as a smile threatened to make itself known as I spotted Evalyn Lewis leaning into the side of my car, smirking. Her light eyes seemed amused at the scene she stumbled upon, though they were red and puffy. She had been crying. I've never actually caught her with tears in her eyes before, and the sight was heart breaking. But I remained as a stone.

"So, is this what you do on your free time? Stalk your clients and read dirty magazines as you do said stalking?" "I wasn't stalking you!"

I was. I definitely was.

"Look," I said defensively, rolling up the magazine and chucking it into the backseat before unlocking the door and slipping from the car as she backed away, allowing me more space. I may have towered over her, but this woman's stare was making me feel a whole lot smaller. I was growing tinier with every second and subconsciously, I puffed out my chest and held my head high to remain above her. "I was driving by and I just happened to see you, alright? I wanted to see how you were holding up." "Well, I'm holding up just fine. Thank you for the concern, though." She spat back, her lips now pursed together in a thin line, fingers tapping the hood of my car.

I half smiled at her fiery attitude. I didn't doubt for a second that this girl could put up one hell of a fight. Whether it be verbal or physical, I had a feeling she'd do everything in her power to come out on top.

And there I was. Imagining her on top. Again.

"Really? Oh, let me guess. The red face and misty eyes are because of your allergies, right?"

She said nothing. She only stared up at me with a hardened expression that slowly faltered as she realized I had caught her with a shattered tough exterior. Her fingers halted in their assault, instead curling up into a fist as her eyes moved elsewhere, landing on anything that wasn't my face. Just like the first time we met.

"I wanna talk," she mumbled lowly, causing me to step a little closer so her frail voice wasn't drowned out by the car horns and roaring engines. "I can do that. What do you wanna-" "You said Tyler wasn't just murdered. You told me she was used as a..sacrifice?" "Actually, I didn't say that. Those were all of my br-my partners words. I never actually said-" "It doesn't matter who said them! You didn't correct him which means you agreed with him!"

Ah.. Fuck.

With a sharp intake of breath, I steadied myself as my confidence began to waver under her intense stare. Not only did it unnerve me that a woman was confronting me so aggressively, but she acted like she knew something. Like she's spent night and day pondering over what Sam had said, which, once we were in the safety of Baby, I scolded him for. She didn't need to hear shit like that and I definitely didn't want her to get even remotely involved. Though, in a way, she was by just being related to the victim. She definitely knew something but I wasn't sure how much. So I played it safe. I played it cool.

I lied.

With a crooked smile and a clap of my hands, I replied with "Yeah, he's quite the character, isn't he? I like to humor him now and then and go along with his little stories."

White knuckles faded along with her deep scowl, her eyes softening. "Wait, what?"

Her voice was so quiet as she questioned me, causing me to wince at the sudden realization that she was now left alone in this. No one to fall on. No one to confirm any theory she had put together since we last saw her. She was placed right back at the starting line after spending so long trying to get somewhere else. But I wanted to shield her from this world. I needed to put an end to it before it got out of hand, so I continued.

"Nothing is simple with him. There's always some crazy reason behind everything that happens and I'll admit, it wasn't exactly professional of me to let him go on about it. I should have shut the kid up," I ended with a chuckle, hands slipping away to rest in denim pockets.

She looked like a damn lost puppy and my smile was now forced and painful.

"So, you don't believe in that sort of stuff? Dark magic and wit-" "No," I replied in a low, stern voice. My expression hardening as I moved closer. Close enough to smell fresh flowers on her clothes and an unrecognizable perfume dotting the bare skin of her neck. "No, I don't believe in those sort of things and neither should you. Those fantasies will delude your mind and create a false reality when really the only evil in this world are the people and I'm sorry but Tyler fell victim to it. She was killed in cold blood. That's all there is to it and I'm sorry. I wish there was more. I wish I could tell you she died for something good. I wish I could tell you she left as a hero but I can't."

At this point, the tears were back and she somehow managed to keep them from spilling over and though her eyes gave away her weakness, she still appeared strong and steady. As we slipped into a comfortable silence, both her and I taking in every word I had said and once her stare had fallen past me, I decided to turn away and move back to the driver's seat and with my fingers curled around the cold handle, I allowed my weakness to shine through for just a moment.

"I've recently lost someone and it's been tough on me and my brother. The world feels like it's suddenly collapsed on my shoulders and I'm struggling to find my footing and I can't talk to him about it. I have to be strong and hold this all together and even though I can't tell him any of this, there's some comfort in knowing I'm not alone in this."

I spared her one last glance. Her slightly chapped lips parted, eyes wide and filled with sympathy.

"And neither are you."