I stared out the window as the Impala drove down the road. "Come on, guys, I'm begging you. This is stupid," Dean whined of like a hundred times. "Why?" I asked.

"Going to visit Mom's grave?" Dean asked. "She doesn't even have a grave - there, there was no body left after the fire."

"She has a headstone," Sam pointed out. "Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger?" Dean asked.

"Dean, that's not the point," Sam said. "Well then, enlighten me, Sam," Dean said, glancing at him before back at the road.

"It's not about a body, or, or, a casket. It's about her memory, okay?" Sam said, getting only a small nod and a roll eyes from our older brother. "And after Dad it just . . . just feels like the right thing to do."

"It's irrational, is what it is," Dean said. "Look, man. No one asked you to come. Scarlett wants to come," Sam pointed out.

"Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down," Dean said.

"That's a good idea, you should," I agreed. "Just drop me and Sammy off, we'll hitch a ride, and meet you there tomorrow." Sam smirked, clearly thought the same thing.

"Right," Dean said and let out a huff, "Stuck - stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you show up? No thanks."

"Then, stop whining and sped up, dude," I whined myself, making Sam laugh and Dean to scoff. "Yes, ma'am," He muttered.

... ...

After an hour or so, we finally made it to the Graveyard where Mary was buried. We climbed out of the Impala, Sam and I made our way to the headstone while Dean walked off somewhere, clearly he didn't want to see Mary's headstone.

Sam and I stared at Mary's headstone for a moment;

MARY WINCHESTER

1954-1983

In Loving Memory

Sam kneeled down before it and started digging in the ground with his folding knife while I watched. He looked up at me, "Can you give it to me?" He asked about Dad's dogtags. I nodded, shoving my hand into my jeans and pulled out the dogtags.

I handed them to him, "Thanks," He said and let out a sigh when he looked back at the headstone. "I think, um . . . I think Dad would have wanted you to have these," He spoke softly, holding the dogtags up. Then he slowly placed the dogtags in the hole and covered them. He looked back at the headstone, "I love you, Mom."

I stared as he got up and turned around, letting me see he had tears in his eyes and he was fighting them from falling. I wrapped my arms around him when he stood next to me. I felt him wrapping his arms tightly around, hugging me back.

He let out a small sigh, licking his lips before unwrapping one arm, "Come on, let's go back to the Impala," He said and I nodded before we walked away from Mary's headstone.

"Guys!" Dean called, making us to look up ahead to see him waving at us to come. We walked over to him and saw him standing near a dying tree. "Look around that gravestone," He said, pointing to the gravestone. I frowned but looked over at it and looked around with Sam at the dead grass around it.

"A circle of dead grass," I pointed out. "Now look at the flowers; they dead too," Dean said. "Dean . . ." Sam started, sighing. "I'll be right back," Dean said before heading off somewhere.

I turned back to Sam, "You think something is wrong?" I asked. He sighed but shrugged. Soon, Dean came back with a man wearing a suit. Sam and I waked to the side to let them talk and after that he walked over to us with a card and we started walking back to the Impala.

"Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college; funeral was three days ago," Dean informed. Sam shrugged, "And?" He asked. "And? You guys saw her grave. Everything dead around it, in a perfect circle? You don't think that's a little weird?" Dean asked.

"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide," Sam suggested. "No, I asked him, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals," Dean said. "So, nobody can explain it," I said. "Yep," Dean agreed.

"Okay, so what are you thinking?" Sam asked. "I dunno. Unholy ground, maybe?" Dean suggested. "Un -" Sam stopped, speechless as he stared at our older brother. Dean and I stopped as well and he turned to Sam, "What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the, the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?"

"Yeah, b -"

"Could be the sign of a demonic presence," Dean cut him off. "Or the, the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough." I frowned, staring at him while Sam nodded, turning away from him before we continued to walk to the car. "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."

"It's just . . . stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?" Sam asked. "So?" Dean asked. "Are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?" I asked, frowning as we reached to the car.

"What else would it be about?" Dean asked and looked between me and Sam. Sam let out a sigh, shaking his head. "You know, just forget about it," He said, opening the passenger door.

"You believe what you want, guys, but - I let you drag my ass out here, the least we could do is check this out," Dean said. "Yeah. Fine," Sam agreed. "Girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school," Dean informed before climbing into the driver seat.

I frowned and looked at Sam but he was staring the passenger door before climbing into the seat. I climbed into the back seat, staring between my brothers. "What?" Dean asked, looking at me in the mirror. I shrugged, "Nothing."

We drove to the school and decided I can join this time. We climbed out of the car and headed to the office. I knocked on the door and after a few seconds, an old man opened the door. "Dr. Mason?" Dean asked.

"Yes," The man conformed. "I'm Sam. This is Dean and this is Scarlett. We were friends of Angela's. We . . . we wanted to offer our condolences," Sam spoke softly. Dr. Mason gave us a small smile before stepping a side, "Please, come in."

We walked inside and he closed the door after. Sam and I sat down with him and he showed us a photo album. "She was beautiful," I said with a soft smile. "Yes, she was," Dr. Mason agreed.

"This is an unusual book," Dean spoke from his spot at the corner nearby a bookshelf, showing us an old book; It had carvings of Greek letters and a triangular symbol.

"It's ancient Greek; I teach a course," Dr. Mason informed. "So a car accident, that's, that's horrible," Dean said as I got up. "Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh . . ." Dr. Mason trailed off.

I looked down, swallowing. "Yeah, it's gotta be hard," I said. "Losing someone like that." Dean nodded, "Sometimes it's like they're . . . still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence." I looked at him, frowning. "You ever feel anything like that?"

"I do, as a matter of fact," Dr. Mason conformed. "That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason," Sam spoke, staring at our older brother. "Especially with what you're going through."

"You know, I still phone her," He confessed. "And the phone's ringing before I remember that, uh . . . Family's everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I, I, I'm just lost without her."

I shifted as I crossed my arms across my chest, all of a sudden felling uncomfortable. Sam looked at me and then at Dean as he spoke to Dr. Mason. "We're very sorry."

... ...

We found a motel and got a room by night time. I was laying on one of the beds while Dean was looking through a book and Sam was at the bathroom, washing his face. "I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet," Dean said.

"Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing," Sam said. "Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground," Dean insisted. Sam walked out of the bathroom, "There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father," He said.

"Maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel?" I spoke up. Dean pointed at me, "See?" He said. Sam let out a sigh, placing his hands on his hips, "You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore."

"So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?" Dean asked. "I think I know what's going on here," Sam said. "It's the only reason I went along with you this far."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked. "This is about Mom's grave," Sam said. Dean scoffed, shaking his head, "That's got nothing to do with it."

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad," Sam said, making Dean to sent him a glare. Sam let out a sigh, "You wanna take a swing? Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better."

Dean shook his head, cleaning his jaw tightly. "I don't need this crap," He said, grabbing his jacket and keys before walking to the door. "Dean, where're you going?" I asked.

"I'm going to go get a drink," He replied and walked out. I got up from the bed and grabbed my jacket, "I'll talk to him," I said to Sam before rushing out of the room. "Dean!" I called as I rushed to him as he climbed into the driver seat. "What?" He asked.

"Where you really going?" I asked, climbing into the passenger seat. He gave me a look, "To a bar. And you not coming with me," He said. "Oh really?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Yes," He said. "Well, too bad. 'Cause I am," I said, giving him a look.

"I want to go alone, Scar," He said. "Dean, I know you upset," I started. "I'm not," He disagreed. "But if I going to let you go alone to a bar, you probably do something stupid and I don't want to get your ass out of a police station," I said, ignoring his disagreements.

He stared at me for a long moment before letting out a groan, looking away. "Come on, dude," He muttered before starting the engines. I smirked in victory and we pulled out of the parking lot.

Soon, we found a bar and parked at the front. We climbed out and walked into the bar. "Let's go," Dean said and we headed to the bar, where two females bartenders where. "Hey, two beers, please," Dean said as we sat down. "Right away," One of them, a blonde woman said, sending my brother a smile before getting the beers.

I sighed, "Dean," I started as I looked at him. He was smirking at the woman before looking at me, "Yeah?" He asked. I gave him a look, "I'm 15," I reminded him. He frowned as in 'yeah, so?' frown. "I think I'm too young to drink," I said.

"Neh. When I was at your age I started drinking beer. And hey, you gonna be 16 soon anyway so?" He said. I stared at him in shock, "What? Dad let you drink at this age?" I asked in disbelief. "Yep," He conformed as the woman came back with the beers, "There you go," She said to Dean with a smile. "Thanks," He said, smirking and then the woman turned to me. She slightly frowned, "How old are you, sweetheart?"

"Oh, she's okay," Dean said before I could say anything. "Just a fun night with my sister." I rolled my eyes but smiled. The woman nodded and walked away. Dean hold his beer and I grabbed my beer before we clicked them together.

I placed the beer to my lips and took a sip as Dean started drinking his own. I pulled the beer away from my lips, closing my eyes tightly with frown and made a face. Dean pulled his beer away and gave a small laugh, "You'll get use to it," He said. "That's disgusting," I muttered and he patted me on the back.

"By the way," He started. "Don't tell Sammy." I let out a giggle, "Dean, I never thought you will be scared by our brother," I teased and he huffed, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He took a drink from his beer before looking back at me, "I'm not scared, I don't want him to give me a lecture at how you are young to drink stuff like that or give me his bitch face again."

"Scary cat," I said, smirking. He rolled his eyes, placing the beer to his lips again, "Shut up." I giggled before drinking my beer, I could get use to it.

... ...

It was already early in the morning, Dean and I decided to go to Angela's house and found out where she was living. I unlocked the door and smirked before quietly opening the door. Dean and I walked inside and started to look around.

He grabbed a framed picture and I walked over to him to see the picture was of Angela. Suddenly, there was a figure of a woman wearing pjs in the reflection just before she saw us, "Who the hell are you?" She asked as we turned around.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!" Dean said before she turned and shut herself in a room as Dean and I rushed to the door. "I'm calling 9-1-1!" She called. "Wait, we're Angela's cousins!" I said.

"What?" She asked, her voice sounded confused. "Yeah," Dean agreed. "Her Dad sent us over to, uh, pick up her stuff. Our names' Alan and Jessie? Alan and Jessie Stanwick?"

She suddenly opened the door slowly, looking between us, "Her Dad didn't say that you were coming," She said. "Well, I mean," Dean started, letting out a small laugh and pulled out a set of keys. "How else would we have the key to your place?"

The woman, who told us her name was Lindsey got dressed and meet us back at the living room. She sat at the couch and started crying as she told us how she heard about Angela's death. I handed her a kleenex and Dean looked slightly uncomfortable while we both sat in front of her on the chairs.

"So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see. Tell us, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?" Dean asked. She smiled with tears, "She was great. Just great. I mean, she was so . . . so . . ."

"Great," Dean finished. "Yeah. Yeah," She sobbed. I handed her another tissue, "Here you go," I said. "You two must have been really close, huh?"

"We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt," She informed. "Who?" Dean and I asked at the same time. "Angela's boyfriend," She replied. "Right, Matt," Dean said, nodding. "What about him?"

"He killed himself last night," She informed and Dean and I exchanged a shocking look. "He cut his own throat. Who does that?" We looked back at her, "That's - terrible," Dean said.

"He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess . . . I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days," She informed. "Messed up how?" I asked. "He kept saying that he saw her everywhere," She explained.

"Well, I'm, I'm sure that that's normal, I mean with everything that he was going through," Dean said. "No, he said that he saw her. As in, an acid trip or something," She said.

"Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?" I asked. "What? No, of course not, why do you ask?" She asked.

"Just asking," I said, shrugging. "Hey, where did Matt live?" Dean asked and she told us. We thanked her before walking out and drove to Matt's house. I got the door open and we walked inside, looking around. There were plants but everything was dead. Dean and I shared a look before walking into the living room.

There was an aquarium at a table but as I walked closer to it, I saw a dead goldfish at the bottom. "Dude," I said and Dean came over, looking at the goldfish. "What the hell?" I muttered before looking at my older brother.

After that, we went back to the motel room. Dean unlocked the door and we walked inside as Sam, who was sitting on the edge of one of the bed watching TV, shut the TV off and tossed the remote to the bed. "Hey."

I frowned and then looked at Dean, who glanced between the television and Sam. "What?" Sam asked. Dean and I looked at each other, "Awkward," We both said at the same time before I walked to one of the beds that had my bag on it.

"Where in the hell were you two all night? I was worried," Sam said. "Working my imaginary case, which Scarlett gladly came along and helped," Dean informed. "And?" Sam asked.

"Well, you were right, we didn't find much," I said and he nodded. "Yeah," Dean said. "Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings."

Sam cracked a small smile, "Okay, I get it," He said as I walked to the bathroom and closed the door to take a shower. After taking a shower, I slipped on new clothes and walked out to see Dean holding up the diary that I stole from Angela's room. Sam looked at me, "You stole the girl's diary?"

I shot Dean a look and he shrugged, "He blamed it on me," He said. Sam let out a sigh, "You get any names about the friends?" He asked. "Dude, are you kidding me?" I asked, grabbing the diary from Dean before turning back to Sam with a smirk. "We have her bestest friend in the whole wide world."