Trigger warnings: potential for domestic abuse.

McKenzie grumbled from the back of the Impala. She still wasn't a hundred percent certain how they'd talked her into leaving her Mustang behind to ride with them. The biggest issue was that it meant she needed to come back to the bunker before splitting off from them.

She needed to make sure she didn't get roped into staying once they returned. Hopefully Sam wouldn't have as easy a time finding a case, and there'd be a good break so she could leave without argument.

"What are you bitching about back there?" Dean's eyes found hers in his rearview mirror.

"Just can't believe I left Sally back there." McKenzie peeled her eyes from his and stared at the window.

"Your Mustang is named Sally? Like the song?" Dean scoffed.

"It started as an inside joke, and well… It just sort of stuck." McKenzie shrugged. It had actually been Bobby who'd named Sally. She'd stayed in touch with him for a while after she'd left hunting, and she filled him in on the Mustang she was trying to get working. He'd joked about calling it Sally, and it had grown into an ongoing thing until finally she couldn't separate the two.

The memory of Bobby struck at her heart, weighing her down even more than she already felt. She'd started avoiding Bobby's calls after Clay had started changing. He'd had a knack for knowing when things were wrong, and she didn't want Bobby to know how Clay was acting.

He'd also had a horrible ability to call at the worst times.

The bruise on her back still throbbed, but the pain paled in comparison to everything else that had been done to her in the last few hours. She felt raw, and dirty.

Her cell phone rang before she could take better stock of any injuries. McKenzie glanced at the phone, sighing when she realized it was Bobby checking in. Sniffling a few times, she inhaled deeply and answered.

"Hey, Bobby, what's up?"

"Hey, girlie. Hadn't heard from you in a while. Wanted to make sure a ghoul hadn't gotten you."

She smiled wistfully in spite of the pain she was in. "No, I'm okay, Bobby. No ghouls here."

"You sure? You don't sound okay."

"Just tired. Long day at work." She fiddled with the hem of her shirt.

"You've been having a lot of those lately. Sounds like this job is harder than huntin'." Bobby sounded suspicious.

"Not necessarily harder – just busy. A good kind of busy though." McKenzie shifted and winced at the pain that lanced through her.

"That Clay kid treatin you right?"

McKenzie hesitated. Could he really tell over the phone? "Of course, Bobby. Clay is great, as always."

"Mmhmm. Well you tell that idjit he better, or I'll be makin' a trip out there myself."

McKenzie would give herself over to a demon before she'd tell Clay anything of the kind. "Will do, Bobby. Stay out of trouble, old man."

"Why, Mac, I'm hurt. I always stay out of trouble."

"Who are you trying to fool?" McKenzie scoffed.

"Be safe, kid."

"Bye, Bobby."

McKenzie stared at the blur of trees on the side of the highway. She'd always wondered if Bobby had actually known more than he let on. It was one of the reasons she'd stopped answering his phone calls. As much as it hurt to stop talking to him, she didn't need Bobby investigating her relationship and finding out something that would endanger him. It was difficult to say exactly what Clay was capable of.

"Earth to McKenzie." Sam waved a hand back in her direction.

"What? Huh?" She turned her attention to the front, blinking with confusion.

"We were talking about what to get for lunch. Do you have any preferences?"

"Oh. No, whatever's fine." She shrugged, and turned her attention back out the window.

"You alright back there?"

"Mmhmm."

Sam didn't pry anymore to McKenzie's relief.

~*~*SUPERNATURAL~*~*~

McKenzie exhaled slowly, glad to have a moment's peace in her motel room. It may have smelled musty, and had wallpaper that likely originated from before her birth, but it was a nice break from being stuck in the back of a car with the Winchesters. They were in the room next to her, which meant she'd probably be able to yell through the wall if she wanted, but it was better than the last few hours had been.

Sam had tried to ask McKenzie questions about her. Her past. Her relationship with Bobby. Her hunting practices.

She'd answered with short responses so he'd get the hint, but it didn't help too much.

"You said you lived with your grandmother as a kid? Was she around here?"

"No. Virginia."

"Oh, that's awesome. Some friends and I visited Williamsburg and Jamestown in college. Gorgeous area."

"You visited historical sites during college?" Dean had interrupted.

"Not all college students go on drunken binges in Cancun, Dean."

"Apparently."

"Anyway. Where in Virginia, McKenzie?"

McKenzie traced one of her scars out of habit. "Near Richmond."

"That's awesome. We went through Richmond on our trip. Swung by the Poe Museum and a few other spots. Great food too."

McKenzie nodded. "Yeah, that's Richmond." She hoped he'd get the hint, but he continued.

"If we have a second, we should go. I've only heard good things about the area lately."

Thankfully, Dean had piped in again. "What are you, reading travel magazines in your free time?"

"I'm capable of reading about things that aren't trying to kill people, Dean."

The two had bickered long enough that Sam's questions were forgotten, and the lump in McKenzie's throat had begun to wan.

McKenzie plopped down on the bed, languishing at the ability to stretch out, even if the mattress was lumpy. She hadn't slept more than a few hours in the last couple of nights, and it was beginning to take a toll. It had taken an energy drink and two cups of coffee to keep her awake while in the car with the boys, and while the caffeine had made her jumpy, it was wearing off now.

She closed her eyes for a minute, trying to block out the dull throb that had pulsed in the back of her head for the last hour.

The front door slammed shut in the next room, causing McKenzie to jump in fear.

"Clay! You're home early!" McKenzie tried to shove the overnight bag under the bed, but wasn't in time before Clay stormed into the tiny bedroom.

"I knew it! I knew you were planning something, whore!" He flung her into wall, then grabbed her up before she could recover.

"I'm just putting some things away for stor-"

He slapped her, cutting off her lie. "I don't understand why you lie to me. Everything I do for you, and you try to sneak away from me, and then lie about it."

"Clay, please…"

"Why do you make me do this to you?" He shook his head at her. "Why can't you just do as I say? Then we'd never have this problem."

Before McKenzie could move from his hold, her right wrist was snapped into a pair of handcuffs. With a swift movement, the other half of the handcuffs were clasped around the rail of the bed frame, so that if she drew the cuffs upward it hit one of the horizontal rails.

"Clay! What are you doing?"

"I think you need to stay here and think for a while. Think about everything I do for you!"

"Clay!" McKenzie yanked at the cuffs, hoping that maybe they were a prop and not real, but to no avail.

She yelled for him again, but he was off in the other room, the television already on at full volume as McKenzie began to cry.

In the other room, Dean glanced at Sam who had his headphones in as he watched something on his laptop.

From behind the wall Dean could hear the muffled sounds of McKenzie calling out in her sleep, mixed with the occasional moan or sob.

He sighed to himself. He had no idea where to begin.