Walking into the newest no-tell motel, Sam drops his bags by the door and locks himself inside after driving straight through to the morning to be safe. He sits down on the one bed in the room, his back upright and alert, and has a moment of wonder. After all that, the hunt, the kill, the almost arrest, the fleeing… he should be tired. In fact, before his time in the box he'd be downright exhausted by now. But no such luck. He isn't even weary. Sam's as ready as ever for some action, which ever kind finds him first.

Though the thought has crossed his mind that he should sleep, he hasn't done so for a second since getting topside. He right now considers sleep a waste of time anyways. If he's sleeping he isn't hunting. At this point in his life the ability to be awake twenty-four hours a day is just plain perfect so instead of worry he embraces it.

And now, adrenaline still going even though he's a solid state away and home free from cops, Sam needs action.

He pulls out his cellphone and dials a very familiar number that he knows by heart. After several rings the line picks up.

"Yeah?" the roughed up, gruff voice answers.

"Bobby, you got anything?"

"What the hell… it's five in the mornin' you idjit!" he returns quickly after obviously looking at a clock.

"Monsters don't always sleep," Sam near scoffs at his reaction.

"But hunters do! Me being one of them…" Sam listens as he hears the old man moving about and trying to wake himself. "And he calls right when I'm talking to Tori Spelling…"

"What's that?" Sam questions the grumblings of the older hunter that he clearly thinks Sam didn't hear his remark.

"Nothing. What's with you Sam?"

"I'm looking for a new hunt. Just took care of the last one."

"So go to sleep. You've been nonstop for months. Take a damn breather or something, get some shut eye, maybe go talk to that brother of yours…"

"Nice try," Sam nearly laughs off.

"Not my finest," Bobby admits. "But I'm worried for you, kid."

"Why?" Sam wonders with incredulousness. He's never felt, or been, better than he is right now.

"You just seem… I don't know. Off. You just worry me." There's a quick pause as Sam can hear some shuffling of papers and a glassware clinking sound. Bobby fell asleep at his desk again. "Ah, I got a possible Nix problem cropping up in the Hudson River area of upstate New York."

"Nix? Seriously? Bobby, we haven't seen any of those since…"

"Since Oklahoma City three years ago, I know."

"Shit," Sam begins to think as he recalls the hunt with Lizzy and Lou and the water bitches. They were nasty and when there's one there's certainly going to be more.

"Rufus got wind from some buddies that a couple guys went missing. You should head over and help out sine you're the only hunter still in action that I know of that's seen these water siren things before."

"Yeah… um, don't Nixie usually stick around the Mediterranean, or just plain the Baltics?"

"Yeah, but they've shown up in the states before so… you know…. You want in?"

"Definitely," Sam answers back, already on his feet and grabbing his bags to leave once more.

"Alright, I'll call some people. In a few hours answer your phone."

"Sure thing." Sam hangs up without saying goodbye or thank you. He gets into his car and prepares for a nice fifteen hour ride.

"God I hope this works," Lizzy says under her breath as she sits Indian-style onto the pavement of the secluded and haunted area of Indian Hill Road. She has all she needs spread out in front of her, the spell work words written on a paper in her hand, and her fingers crossed that Owen will show up.

"We probably only got a little time before any cops notice the road's suddenly closed so I'd get going if I were you." Dean peers both ways down the road, no street lighting making it hard to see. They blocked off the area with some construction barrels to make sure no one came by and questioned them as they brought a ghost to fruition. Seemed like the right move.

"Ok," Lizzy says with a ready voice before she begins reading. "Anima quae deperdita. Revertere ad nos huc. Communicant inter se per magnum partitus et locutus est ad nos." She lights a match and drops it into the gold bowl of herbs. The flame lights and flashes quickly, the blue hue brightening the dark road, and as it dies down a bit the image of a pale little boy is standing in front of them a few feet away, not replaying his death but looking back and forth between Lizzy and Dean.

"No shit," Dean says under his breath. Lou's spell worked. He was ready for it not to since he's never seen a ghost on such a specific loop so easily snap out of it but the kid can clearly focus on both of them. Lou knew some serious shit.

"Owen?" Lizzy calmly and sweetly asks, knowing already that it's him after seeing his likeness in the family portrait Dean found online. She smiles kindly, hoping not to frighten the poor lost soul.

The boy looks around, the fear clear in his eyes. "Mom?"

"Oh, honey, it's alright," Lizzy assures him quickly, keeping her distance as she remains seated. "Your mom's not here right now but I want to help you find her if that's ok with you."

"I want my mom," he repeats, looking about ready to cry and both Lizzy and Dean melt.

"It's ok, hey," Dean calls to him as he crouches to the child's level while next to Lizzy. "Owen, you're good, bud. You just need to answer a couple questions for us so that we can help you out."

"I want to go home…"

"I know you do," Lizzy says with pain, her smile still on her face as she tries to keep him calm. "And we're here to help."

"You'll bring me home?" Owen wonders, his eyes hopeful through the sorrow and panic he obviously still feels.

"Yes," Lizzy promises. "If you can tell us a few things we can definitely bring you home."

"You think you can be tough and talk to us for a minute?" Dean keeps trying.

"Yes, sir," Owen quietly answers while looking at his feet.

"Sir? Owen, we're friends. You can call me Dean. This is Lizzy," he drops a hand on her shoulder as they both continue to warmly smile his way.

"You can call us by our names," Lizzy reinforces. "And friends help other friends, right?"

Owen just shyly nods.

"Kiddo, do you live on Farmvale Road?" Lizzy asks.

"Yes."

"A big house, white porch, tire swing in the back?" Dean asks for further proof.

He nods again.

"Good, you're being really helpful so far, Owen. Thank you so much," Lizzy keeps her demeanor calm and comforting. "This is a weird question but have any of your grandparents passed away?"

"My Grammie Bickle did," he tells them. "Last year."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dean tells him. "Owen, where is Grammie Bickle buried?"

"By my house," he says, his voice growing mousy with the idea of his lost grandparent.

"Ok, you're doing so good," Lizzy smiles as she knows the rest of the family must be buried there. However the headstones are old, some crumbled, and they weren't able to identify the family plot earlier. "Where is her headstone?"

"In the back corner by the big strange tree." His lip quivers a bit.

"Owen, you ok?" Lizzy wonders, making sure that Owen is still as alright as he can be.

"I feel weird," he tells her in an unsteady voice before asking, "Am I dead?" His eyes wide and glassy with frightened sorrow and her heart just shatters. Lizzy grabs Dean's hand on her shoulder and squeezes it.

"Do you think you're dead?" Dean tries to gage the ghost and what he knows.

The child once more looks down at his own feet. "Yes."

Lizzy wipes her eyes and clears her tears. The tragic life this child has had doesn't need any more added sadness.

"Owen, I'm so sorry but honey… you're right," she tells him gently. "You died a long, long time ago."

Owen's eyes tear up and Dean can see how rapidly this whole moment is deteriorating.

"But it's ok because we want to put you to rest," Dean tells the little boy. "We want to put you somewhere peaceful and happy. And we want you to see your mom again."

The ghost looks up, the streaks on his cheeks shining in the moonlight. "Promise?"

"Oh kiddo, we promise," Lizzy says in her choked up voice.

"Thank you," his voice equally choked to find that he's going to get some help.

"You're very welcome. And like we said, we're your friends. We'll do anything to help you. It's gonna be ok."

Owen walks towards her, the walk quickly turning into a run, and his arms are out reaching for her. He wants a hug, he just wants reassurance.

"Owen wait!" Lizzy tries to stop him as he'd go right through her but he rushes to her, intent on finding some comfort but just as he reaches her Dean puts out the flame in the spell bowl by covering it with the alter cloth, making Owen disappear.

"Shit," Lizzy sighs with surprise, her face instantly buried in her hands once the little boy is gone. "Oh God." She keeps worrying now that she no longer has to hold it together for the ghost. "That poor kid, oh God. Dean. He's had it so awful."

"And we're gonna fix that," Dean tells her as he starts packing up their spell work. "If we get going now we can get him dug up well before sunrise and end this all now."

"Fuck," Lizzy worries aloud for him. "He just wanted some love, some contact and comfort… what he's been through…"

Dean pauses to look at her completely devastated state. This crushed her. She already just cares so much about the little kid that she's a wreck.

"And all he wanted was his mother. Dean… he misses her so much."

"It's ok," Dean tells her, a hand to her cheek. "Look at me."

Lizzy stares straight at him, her concern clear in her eyes.

"You need to pull it together. The sooner we get this done the sooner Owen is at peace. Don't fall apart on me now, badass. Owen either."

She nods and wipes her face again. A few deep breaths and she starts to gather herself.

"Alright," Dean says while taking his keys out of his pocket. He hands them over. "Go to the barrels by the car and move them out of the way. I'll clean this up and meet you there. Then we put Owen to rest."

"Ok." She smiles almost unrecognizably small and leans up onto her knees. She kisses him quickly in thanks before standing. "Thank you. Poor thing just broke my heart." With that she's rushing down the street as he asked her to.

He continues to glance at her as she heads for the car while he cleans up. Something about that moment, something about her pull to that kid, the way she talked to him and handled him… it's sticking with him. And for the first time in his life it's making him feel something he hasn't really ever felt before. He wants to see more of that from her. He wants her to be like that, to love like that, with her own. Their own.

And then Dean finds himself nearly shocked that the thought even came to him. Fuck. Kids? Is he feeling this way because he's actually ready for all that? To settle down and be that responsible? To have another life totally in his very overprotective, very messed up, and alcoholic hands?

No, not yet he thinks to himself as he picks everything up and begins swiftly walking back. It's not the time. He's still hurting with Sam's loss and, oh yeah… they're still hunting. They're doing it right now.

But still… a kid would be pretty fucking amazing, wouldn't it?

Sam walks into the tiny, one room motel lobby in East Whatthefuckever, New York and rings the desk bell. He then looks at his watch as he waits. If he drops his stuff here and then organizes his weapons pack he could meet up with Sal and Steve for a rundown before ten since he made such great time…

"Welcome."

Sam turns sharply to look at the source of the greeting. Behind the desk stands a girl, a young one, with a sweet smile on her face as she looks up to him. Her jean shorts, yellow Hollister t-shirt, and chestnut ponytail help possibly show her younger-than-him age.

"Thank you very much," Sam smiles wide, flashing his pearly whites as he looks her over shamelessly. She's tan with the summer sun and her legs are long and athletic. And best of all, she's petite; his favorite type.

"Checking in I assume?" She grins right back to him, oblivious to his ogling.

"Yes I am," Sam answers, dimples flying as he leans forward onto the counter with his elbows to get closer to her eye level. "And it's just me."

"Let me see what we have," she gladly tells him while looking through a clipboard of paperwork, Sam appreciating her decent rack that is just too perky to ignore through her tight t-shirt. "Looks like room three is all yours sir."

"Lucky me," Sam fakes a warm reply as he makes a decision right then and there. Sal and Steve can wait an hour. Maybe two.

She grabs a key with a number three key ring on it before passing across the sign in book to him. "Please sign in right there," she points to the page. "How would you like to pay for your stay?"

"Credit," Sam answers as he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket. "You work here regularly?"

"I do when my parents need me to cover. I'll be here for a few days while they're away visiting my brother at college so if you need anything just ask." Her sweet and innocent voice goes straight to his cock. She's just too much.

"Then I certainly came here at the right time, didn't I?" Sam slickly says while passing her his plastic.

"You're very sweet Mr.…" she pauses to read his name off the card. "P. Bateman."

"Please, call me Sam."

"Sam?" she asks with confusion as she swipes his card to store his payment into the system, the alias on it lost on her as she's too young to really know the classic horror movie. "Your first name doesn't start with a P?"

"It does, but I go by my middle name."

"Oh, ok. Well, Sam, you're all set," she grins and hands back his card. "You can head over whenever you're ready. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

If there was ever an opening…

"You know what, I'm not too sure where room three is," Sam starts. "You mind walking me over?"

"Well, it's really easy, just walk…"

"Would you walk with me? I swear I get lost walking across the street." He plays it slightly bashful and completely harmless. Looking at her softened expression he knows it's working.

"Sure," she concedes and walks around the front desk. He holds open the lobby door for her and she thanks him.

"So you know my name," Sam starts as he walks a little slower than usual to talk to her. "What's yours?"

"Lindsay," she answer back.

"It's very nice meeting you, Lindsay." Sam holds out his hand.

"Oh, uh, you too, Sam," she echoes with nervousness. She shakes his hand but he can feel her tension.

"Am I scaring you or something?" Sam asks her through a laugh.

"No, no… nothing like that." She keeps walking.

"Good, because I would never want to scare a beautiful girl like you," Sam starts to lay it on thick.

"Ah, ha… um..." She looks down and gets very awkward.

"I'm actually pretty glad that your parents are gone," Sam keeps going. "That just means I'll see more of you around here than them."

"Here's your room," she changes the subject when they arrive at his rented door. She wrings her hands as she waits for him to disappear inside.

"You know, I swear you have no idea how to take a compliment," Sam tells her lightly while unlocking his door. "Aren't you used to that? People saying that you're pretty? You must be."

"Well, not really," she admits.

Sam scoffs. "I don't believe that. A girl like you probably has a million guys banging down your door."

"No, I don't. Honestly," she blushes with his words.

"Really?" Sam pushes the door open and tosses his bag inside. He then turns and looks at her with a hand gasping either side of the doorframe. "Huh. I mean, I've been all across this country and you are just about the cutest girl I've seen in a long while. I have no idea what everyone else's problem is."

"That's nice of you. And the guys at school are kind of dumb anyways. Maybe I'm better off that they don't look my way."

"School!?" Sam spits out quickly and watches her nod her confirmation. He takes a deep breath while weighing his options here. "Lindsay, how old are you?"

"I'll be seventeen in two weeks," she tells him, her age showing through with her word choice.

Sixteen, huh? Hmm…. That is pretty young. And illegal. But she's cute. And tiny. And naïve Ah, fuck it. She's still totally doable.

"Well I thought you were at least nineteen. You're very mature for your age."

"Sam, you're a really nice guy. Thank you." She smiles that innocent smile again and Sam has the sudden urge to wipe that sweetness right off of her face.

"Why you're welcome," Sam answers before stepping closer to her. "So, it's Saturday night. What is it you have planned?"

"Just working," she answers, her fingers playing with her t-shirt hem. "Here."

"Would you like to take a break and come hang out with me for a bit?" Sam offers. "I would love the company and I'm not meeting with my friends for an hour or two."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Lindsay shifts on her feet with nerves.

"I think it is," Sam tells her, stepping closer again and taking her hand in his with slow caution. "I just like you, Lindsay. You're nice. And you said I was nice too."

She bites her bottom lip as she glances to the lobby across the lot before looking up to him. She's thinking about it.

"We could have fun for just a little bit and then you can go back to work. No one will ever know."

"I shouldn't…"

Just as she was about to turn him down Sam leans down and kisses her. He moves slow and hesitant, keeping the sincere façade in place for now. He then ends the moment by cupping her face.

"I really think you should."

An hour of silent digging, which is very slow going because it's way harder to dig a grave when one's been out of service and not eating properly for a while, and Dean suddenly feels another weird feeling that he's never really experienced before, at least not as a man. He has the urge to talk.

"You ok still?" He glances to her out of the corner of his eye as he pushes his shovel into the ground.

"I'm ok, Hot Shot," Lizzy assures as she hauls another shovelful of dirt out of the knee-deep hole.

"You sure?" he pries some more, pausing for a moment as he leans onto the handle of his shovel now stuck into the ground. "You were pretty fucked up back there for a minute."

"Yeah… I was," she says with obviousness as she wipes away the sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand. Digging in the summer sucks. "But it was a kid in trouble. What the hell did you expect… me to keep it together?"

"No," Dean huffs a laugh as he smiles. He expected her upset. "I just wanted to make sure." He looks away and picks up his shovel again but Lizzy hears the incomplete thought for what it is.

"And…" she peers over to him.

"And… what?"

"I felt like there was an and in there." She pauses and looks to him, knowing it's true.

"And I was just seeing where your head's at. That's all," Dean brushes off with a shrug. He tries to go back to work but after one shovel of dirt he knows she's still waiting, staring at him. "What?"

"Just say it."

"Say what!?" He's getting annoyed now.

"Say whatever it is that's clearly pissing in your beer, dude." When Dean just stares at her with narrowed eyes she tries again. "You got something to say so just suck it up and say it. It's just me, anyways."

Dean sighs. Fucking Lizzy, always knowing him so well that it blows. Here goes nothing.

"You were really good with Owen when he showed up."

"Yeah…?" Lizzy's not grasping his point.

"You're always good with kids," he continues on. "Every time we ever had to help out a kid they… they, like, gravitate to you."

"You're not so different, I hate to tell you," she rebuts.

"I'm not as good as you, though."

"So… I'm good with kids, so what?" she sums up. "A lot of people are."

"Yeah but… it's more than that," Dean tries his hardest to explain. He still sucks at talking. It's just not natural to him like it is her.

"How so?" Lizzy wonders as she spears her tool into the ground, lets it go, and turns to look at him. She is taking him much more seriously now.

Dean shakes his head when words that make sense enough to explain how he's feeling fail to formulate. This is a big conversation to start.

"Try, Dean. Even if it doesn't make sense I'm sure I'll get it."

The way she smiles at him reassures him.

"I feel like… I like that version of you. The one where you're all warm and… just good with kids. I like seeing you like that. It's your best, I don't know, mode in life or whatever."

Lizzy smiles a little wider with his efforts and sweet words.

"You're just so…. I just really like seeing that side of you."

"You like seeing me help kids?" Lizzy tries to sum up.

"Yes. Exactly," Dean says with relief that he understands him.

Then Lizzy just stares at him. "Why?" Now it was her turn to shoot him the narrowed eyes.

"It's natural for you," Dean says like it's a question but it's definitely a statement. Or just plain fact. "You look like you're at home like that. You're at your best when you're helping kids. Always has been that way."

"I get them," she shrugs off, having said this many a times before to him.

"I know. You do… and I want to see more of that out of you." Whoa.

Lizzy just freezes, her heart pounding a little harder with the words he says. What he could be indicating is something she honestly wasn't prepared to hear. At least not yet.

"How so?" she cautiously pries, wanting to see if she's got his meaning.

"I think you know how so," Dean crosses his arms with discomfort. He wasn't ready to say all this when he started this conversation.

Lizzy continues to just wordlessly stare.

"We've… you know…" Dean starts quickly. "Talked about this before. It's nothing new…"

"Oh I know!" she interrupts when he starts to look flustered and uneasy. She doesn't want that for him and he tends to shut down when he feels even a little awkward. "We totally have. I just so wasn't ready for you to bring this up right now is all. Kinda took me off guard."

"You and me both," Dean grumbles, knowing the feeling hit him without warning. "I know this is probably not the time but it… when you were talking to Owen and being so good with him and then you just broke down because of how much you cared… it got me thinking."

Lizzy just nods, seeing the connection.

"I want that in my life. I want you to be happy, I want us to be happy. A family would make us both really happy. And that's what Sam wanted us to do."

Lizzy smiles with the last part of his statement, knowing how true it is.

"He did." Lizzy then steps to him and brings her arms around his middle, hugging him close as he wraps his arms around her too. "But it's too soon," she tells him. "After everything… I can't do that, not yet."

"Not sure I'd be any good for a kid right now either," Dean admits. His depression, his drinking, his broken status… no good.

"We just need time," she looks up to him. "Sam… and the regular life… it's all too fresh. We need more time than this."

"I agree," Dean tells her truthfully. "I just know that after tonight I'm sure that I want that. You'll be awesome and that's something I need to have in my life."

Lizzy smiles wide with his honesty. "I need that too."

Dean's arms tighten slightly with her statement. He's always known she wants to be a mom, always. He's just glad that after everything they are both still looking for that to complete their lives.

"How about this; we take a full year to figure it all out. I still need to heal as much as I can. And we need to have jobs and come to terms with certain things and just put ourselves into a whole new life. We also have to make sure that we're truly out…"

"Absolutely," Dean agrees. "I'm not bringing a kid into this world if there's gonna be evil bitches coming for him."

"Him, huh?" she asks, cocking an eyebrow up to her husband with his assumption.

"Or her," he brushes aside and tries to make up for the clear want one way or another.

"Let's hope it's a him when the time comes," Lizzy jokes. "You could never have a daughter."

"Why not!?" he takes offense.

"A million reasons why not!" she laughs. "Training bra's, periods, dates with boys who just want to…"

"Ok, no, stop," Dean says as he makes a face of disgust. "You are not allowed to have anything but a boy. It's settled."

"Hey, you're the one who'll determine that, buddy," Lizzy laughs at his new fear. "You're the sex picker… I'm just the incubator."

"Lovely," he sarcastically tells her of the way she explains things.

She laughs quietly for a second. "Look, right now it's fucking scary to think about and it's too damn much for us to handle. I think you know that."

"I do," Dean nods seriously down at her.

"But if next May, if we both have our shit together and can handle it… I say we go for it."

Looking at her with surprise, Dean's relieved at how well this conversation went over. And he's very happy to have her in the same place as he is mentally with this whole life-changing idea.

"I'm down if you're down," he backs away and holds a hand out to shake over the deal.

"Oh, I'm so down," Lizzy assures and shakes. "Mm, and I so look forward to the whole trying phase."

"Right?" Dean concurs excitedly as he grabs her ass real quick. Wanting to have a kid could be some serious fun considering what it takes to get there.

"Definitely," she shoots him a look of something wanting. "I kinda hope it takes a little while."

Dean just grins at her as he picks up his shovel again.