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*Three Days Earlier*

I sat in the back seat of the Impala, miserable. God knows how much ass Dean had back here…it was icky just to think about. Sam was fast asleep and my older brother would often glance at me through the rear view mirror. I fiddled with the laces on my boots, finding the South Dakota country side vast and repetitive but beautiful nonetheless. Leaning my head back on the leather seats, I ran my fingers over the carvings on the armrest.

"Wish I could have taken the Charger." I murmured, remembering the day Dean and Sam and I had used a jack knife to engrave our initials into the Impala. Dad had been plenty mad. I figured that was the reason he gave the car to Dean. I stretched out my leg over the car seat, not wanting the long drove to Roswell to ruin my already bad knees (I had knees like an old woman).

"We both know that car wouldn't have even got us to the border of the state." Dean smirked. I shrugged his hurtful comment off and leaned forward beside his shoulder to avoid car sickness. "Are you even wearing a seatbelt?"

"Are you?"

"Good point…bitch." I smiled briefly before staring at the empty road ahead, the dips and curves that rose and fell with the lush green landscape. "You know, uh, Lisa didn't work out."

"I can only assume so."

"Why did you hate her so much?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Let's just say chicks have a sixth sense about other chicks."

"You're not a chick."

"You know what I mean, smartass." Dean chuckled. "She was terribly irksome…bit too needy for my taste."

"Oh yeah, what type of women do you not find irksome? Women who're like you?"

"Pshh, no. Not the girls you go for anyway. I prefer Sam's one-night stands…at least they have a lick of sense."

"You know he went at it with a demon once."

"No surprise there…whoa, I think I just got a mental picture. Damn!"

"What about you? You still dating that Sullivan kid?" My heart dropped at the thought of my ex-boyfriend. "What was his name? Max, right?" Yup, we had the same name…funny, I thought, frowning. Max had been Dean-approved which was a pretty big deal. The thing about Max Sullivan was that he was just as protective of me as my family was. And thankfully Dean had witnessed it.

It was my senior year in high school and I was hanging out with all these video game and anime junkies. I was walking out with Max and two of his other friends. Dean, of course, looked menacing as ever, leaning against the Impala in his leather jacket and pursed lips. Anyway, Max was singing some song that I had actually heard before. They would always sing some weird shit and I would just stand there lost as ever. But this time he was singing Stairway to Heaven (very off-key, might I add) so I look over and I'm like,

"Hey, I know that song." I was so proud to have known Led Zeppelin, convinently forgetting that I had Dean to thank. So, after I had said this, this other guy, I don't even remember his name, looked over and shouted,

"Nobody cares!" I didn't say anything, because it wouldn't have mattered. I didn't like causing a ruckus. Dean had heard this and his eyes widened with anger. Max, being the darling he was, stood up for me.

"Don't talk to her like that, bitch!" He shoved that guy two feet backwards before turning around and looking at me, waiting for my smile of approval…which I gave him. Yeah, well, Max and I started going out even after we had left Woodville, Maine.

"What happened to him?" Dean asked, bringing me back to the present world. My heart ached to remember what I had done.

"Just think Bobby and Karen." I whispered, trying to hide my tears. I loved Max Sullivan, I truly did. But those damn demons never knew when to quit torturing you or the ones you loved.

"I am so sorry Max." I shook my head, shrugging to console myself.

"After I had exorcised the demon that had possessed him I realized just how broken his body was." I blinked away uprising tears. "Anyway," I sat back against the seat and looked out into the light blue skies, my stomach hurting at the remembrance. "Life's a bitch, Dean-o."

"You can say that again."

"So, tell me the job again?"

"A woman was found dead in a graveyard by the gardener. Her stomach was ripped apart and she was hung on a tree nearby."

"That could be a whole lot of things you know, Dean."

"No, but get this: the woman had died of cancer the week before. Her body was stolen from the morgue and was shanked and dumped where the PoPo found her."

"Wonderful. Wait…you think we're dealing with—"

"I doubt it."

"Come on, Dean. The death points to it."

"We killed that bitch."

"Doesn't mean there aren't others out there." Dean pursed his lips.

"Yeah...whatever."

*many years back*

"It's called an Aswang," Dad had explained, handing Dean the manila folder filled with newspaper clippings and articles from years ago.

"It's an ass-wang?" I asked skeptically, looking over Dean's shoulder as he went through the collected research. Once I realized just how crude my question was, Dean and I died laughing. Dad glared at us in frustration, shaking his head.

"Get yourself together you two. You're going to kill the creature, you hear me?"

"Where're you going Daddy?" I asked sweetly.

"Did you hear me, Maxine?"

"Yes, sir," I barked, snapping to attention. "I heard you loud and clear, sir." My dad smiled softly but he didn't answer my question. He never had ever since Sam had gone.