The first week after Bobby's death was like living in a funeral home. They barely spoke; perhaps three or four words passed between the three of them on any given day. Liv and Dean slept on opposite sides of their bed, with her curled up into a ball and him on his side, facing away, and teetering on the edge. She found herself apologizing anytime she accidentally brushed up against him.

Sam tried the hardest to return to some semblance of normality but his efforts were short-lived. They ate take-out, researched the numbers that Bobby had written onto Sam's hand, and sat in silence, pretending to watch television.

The second week was much like the first. The boys threw themselves into the five numbers, spending every waking hour searching for any scrap of information that would provide a clue as what the numbers actually meant. Everything came up empty. It wasn't a zip code, a password, a bank account number… It meant nothing, as far as they could see.

They spoke more often in the second week, but it was all about the numbers. Liv was beginning to worry that they might actually be nothing but the muddled ramblings of a dying man. Dean ignored her suggestion that Bobby might not have been in the right state of mind during those few brief seconds and Sam couldn't be convinced either, though he did listen to her with at least a modicum of interest. It didn't matter, though. They couldn't be persuaded to give up the search and Dean insisted on calling Frank, one of Bobby's contacts.

By the third week, their loss was beginning to take on a kind of awkward normalcy. Liv didn't wake up every day with the echo of grief ringing in her ears. Dean was able to touch her without either of them wincing at the pain of personal affection. Sam finally left the cabin and went on a supply run, returning with fresh food that didn't need reheated in the microwave. It was a painful existence but they were able to manage. It was both a relief and frightening to Liv; she didn't want to accept a world without Bobby in it, but she also didn't want to live in the same state of dismal melancholy forever.

While the search for the meaning of Bobby's numbers had turned up nothing, Sam and Dean had only increased their fervency. Dean set up a bulletin board and began charting and mapping everything he could find on Roman Enterprises, Biggerson's, and Dick Roman, himself. Liv wanted them to find something; she was tired of sitting and waiting for something to happen.

Liv and Dean were in the kitchen one afternoon when Sam brought up an issue that she hadn't even considered.

"Dean, Liv… You know, um… I wonder if… if we… I mean, should we be telling people? I mean, people he knew," Sam said, haltingly.

Dean ignored him. "How long ago did I give Frank these numbers? It's been a few weeks, right? What, is he nuts or is he just being rude?"

Sam looked at Liv, pleadingly, but she didn't know what to say. Dean was stubborn; he wouldn't talk about it if he didn't want to. She only shrugged.

"Probably both," Sam said. "Dean, I asked you a question."

"Unless, of course," Dean went on, almost rambling, "something happened to him. He can't get to the phone because a Leviathan ate his face."

"Yeah, also a possibility," Sam answered.

"Why do you think this guy can help?" Liv asked. She had only heard them talk about Frank a few times, and never in detail.

"He's a technological genius," Dean answered. "If those numbers are important at all, he'll find out."

Sam nodded. "He's a hacker. He can get into Roman's files and find anything. But he's only helpful if he keeps in touch."

"We should go check on him," Dean said, suddenly.

"Dean, do you want to call Bobby's people or not?" Sam demanded.

Dean scowled. "Why is that our job?"

"Because who else is gonna do it?" Sam asked, sarcastically.

Dean shook his head and scoffed. "I'm not calling anybody. If you want to, you go right ahead."

"I don't want to call anybody. You kidding me?" Sam said.

Before Dean, or Liv, could respond, a phone started to ring. Liv glanced around the room, searching for the source. It was coming from one of Bobby's duffel bags, on the table.

Sam quickly found the phone and answered it, his eyebrows furrowed together.

"Hello?" he said into the phone.

Liv couldn't hear whoever was on the other end but she understood, from Sam's side, that he or she had to have been looking for Bobby.

"Uh, no… He's uh… It's not, but I'm a friend of his," Sam said, hesitantly.

Dean pulled Bobby's flask from the duffel bag and inspected it.

"He's… not here. But, look, if you need so-," Sam started to say but stopped, mid-sentence.

"Who was it?" Dean asked, after Sam hung up.

"Just some kid," Sam answered, looking befuddled.

"Why would a kid be calling?" Liv asked.

"For Bobby?" Dean asked. "Girl scout cookies?"

Sam shook his head. "I think maybe... Maybe a hunter's kid? I mean, she sounded pretty scared. You know, I have a caller ID. Maybe we should go find her. We… we can check on her," he said.

"What about Frank?" Dean asked.

"She might need help," Liv said. She remembered being young, when her father would go on hunts. Bobby had been her friend; he'd been a comfort. What if Bobby had played the same role in this girl's life?

"Well, Dean, I think we should go find this girl first," Sam agreed with Liv.

"Guys, Frank's been working on the numbers that Bobby spent his last breath on, and you want to back-burner that?" Dean asked, incredulously.

Neither Sam, nor Liv, responded.

"Fine, you two go check out girl scout. I'll find Frank," Dean finally said.

"You want me to go with Sam?" Liv asked. Normally, she would stick with Dean and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about this abrupt change.

"Yeah, kids like women. Maybe she'll feel better talking to you," he said, shrugging.

"Fine," Sam said. "But you know what? On one condition - if Frank is just spinning his wheels, then you bail out on crazy and come meet us."

Dean nodded and picked up his beer bottle. A few drops sloshed around the bottom.

"And thanks for drinking my entire beer," he grumbled.

"I didn't touch your beer," Sam answered, motioning toward his own bottle on the table. "Mine's right there. You probably drank it without noticing."

"I don't even like beer," Liv said, holding up her hands, when Dean turned his glare on her.

"Right," Dean said, turning away.

"So… what does your dad sell?" Liv asked the girl. Her name was Krissy; she hadn't been too keen on letting them know but Sam had pressed and finally she'd given it up. She was maybe fourteen or fifteen, surly but smart, kind of tough. Nothing like Liv, if she was being honest.

"Tires," Krissy answered from behind her book.

"Hmm. Tires," Liv said. She'd been trying to make friendly conversation for the past three days, since Sam had left her there. It was Dean's idea, of course. He made it out like he was worried about the kid and didn't want her left on her own for any longer, but Liv saw through it. He didn't want her on a hunt. It was the same routine and she was used to it, but that didn't mean it didn't still bother her. She did find out where Sam was headed, thought she had been made to promise she wouldn't tell the girl, no matter what. Sam kept her updated, mostly because Dean didn't seem too interested in the case, at all.

"Yep," Krissy said when Liv didn't continue.

"My dad was a salesman, too," Liv said, idly. She was bored and she missed Dean. Hell, she missed Sam. And, of course, she missed Bobby. She didn't want to be in an unknown apartment, doing nothing. Being useless, as usual. She wanted to help and she was getting restless.

Krissy had peered out from behind the pages, looking curious for the first time since they'd met.

"A real salesman? Or a… you know… salesman salesman," the girl asked.

Liv narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, cautiously.

Krissy's eyes widened. "You know what I mean, don't you? You know what I'm talking about! Your dad was a hunter. And…" She sat upright. "And so is Sam!"

Liv looked around the room, as though someone might be there to hear them. Of course, the apartment was empty, other than the two of them.

"Your dad told you about hunting, didn't he?"

Krissy nodded, swiftly. "Since my mom died, I've known everything. He said it was more dangerous not to tell me."

Liv let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know about that, but I can't believe he left you here. You're just a kid!"

"Hey," Krissy said, indignantly. "I'm fifteen! I can take care of myself. I just wish he'd let me go with him. I could have helped." She frowned then, her forehead wrinkled with concern.

Liv couldn't suppress a smile. She knew exactly how the girl felt. She was feeling it, too.

"Don't worry, okay? Sam is great, seriously. He's one of the best. He'll find your dad," Liv said, trying to sound sure of herself and of Sam.

"Oh yeah?" Krissy said, cynically. "Then why hasn't he checked in for over a day? How many times have you called and gotten no answer?"

Liv frowned. Had it really been that long? She picked up her cell phone and dialed Sam's number. When it went straight to voicemail, she immediately called Dean. Again, she got no answer.

"Hey, baby. Sam's been gone for three days and he hasn't called in over a day. I've called him a few times and just got voicemail. He told me where he's going so I think I'm gonna go see if I can find him -," Liv said into her phone.

"I'm going with you!" Krissy shouted, but Liv shook her head furiously and held up one hand.

"-I'll be careful, I promise, and I won't do anything stupid. I'm just going to check out the area. Call me when you get this," Liv finished, ending the call.

"I'm going," Krissy said, brashly. Her cheeks were tinted bright pink.

"Absolutely not," Liv answered. She was happy to be doing something, even if it wasn't the smartest plan, but she had to get out of the apartment. Sam wasn't answering, Dean wasn't answering… That left her to make the hard decisions and she'd just decided. She scooped up her bag and dropped her phone into the opening. "I know it's shitty being left behind but I have no idea what I'm doing and I can't risk you, too. Stay here. I'll call you."

"What if you don't?" Krissy asked, angrily.

"Then, call the number Sam gave you. I don't know how much good it'll do you, though, since Dean isn't answering. But try. Give me a few hours, maybe half a day. I'm gonna have to rent a car or something but, I promise, I'll keep in touch," Liv said.

"Wait," Krissy said, just as Liv was about to close the door behind her. She sounded disappointed but resigned. "You can take my dad's other car. It's in the parking garage." She hurried to the kitchen counter and grabbed a set a keys from a rack on the wall. "Here. Don't get too excited, though. It's a 1989 Mazda."

"Thanks," Liv said, grinning. She didn't care what kind of car it was; she just felt good to be doing something. Plus, she hadn't been allowed to drive in weeks.

The last time Liv had spoken to Sam, he told her he was going to check out a truck stop just outside of Dodge City. She couldn't remember the name, if he'd even mentioned it, but after picking up a map she was able to pinpoint the town and, ultimately, narrow down her options to two diners.

The first stop she visited was almost empty. There were two rigs in the parking lot and four cars. Stepping inside, the dingy, little restaurant held only half a dozen tables and a short counter with four stools. It was run by a single man who took orders, cooked, and delivered food. He shook his head and shrugged when she showed him a photograph of Sam. Liv was discouraged but not surprised. The place was far too small to house a monster without notice.

The second truck stop was louder, bigger, and busier. Liv parked the Mazda, which let out a large cough as she shut off the engine, and hurried up the stairs to the door. She passed a pretty, brown-haired prostitute with bright red lipstick on her way, who flashed her shy smile. Liv returned the smile, hoping she wasn't giving off the wrong idea and wouldn't have to deal with an awkward proposition on her way out.

The waitress inside wore a nametag with the name 'Marlene' stamped across it. She was friendly, perky, and blonde - exactly the type of woman Liv expected to find. Her pleasant attitude and appearance probably netted her great tips from the truckers, Liv thought. She immediately recognized Sam.

"Oh yeah, that handsome fella. He was here a few days ago. I sent him out to talk to Dan, one of our regulars. He hasn't been back since. Do you want me to take you to Dan?" Marlene asked with a cheerful grin. "I think he's out there napping in his rig. He might know which way your friend was headed."

Liv was thrilled; she hadn't expected it to be so easy. "That would be great, if you have time," she said, anxiously.

"Oh sure, sugar. Let me just tell my boss I'm taking a quick break. Meet me outside in five," Marlene said and stepped into the kitchen.

Outside, Liv pulled her phone out of her bag and dialed Krissy's number. The girl answered on the first ring.

"Did you find him?"

"Not yet but I have a good lead. I'm at a truck stop on Interstate 9 just outside of Dodge City. A waitress here saw Sam and there's another guy here who might know where he went. Hey, let me call you back in like ten minutes, okay?" Liv said, shortly. Marlene had just stepped out of the diner and was waiting on the bottom stair.

"Okay. Call me back, right away. Okay?" Krissy said. She didn't sound any less worried than when Liv had left.

"I will, I promise. Ten minutes, okay? That's all." Liv hung up the phone and smiled up at Marlene. "I'm ready when you are."

Marlene started across the parking lot, into the maze of big rigs that were parked in diagonal parallels across the pavement. She weaved through several of them, finally stopping in the last row. Liv squinted in the darkness; she hadn't realized it was nearly evening and the further they got from the diner, the less light reached between the trucks.

"This is it," Marlene said, coolly.

"This truck?" Liv asked, pointing at the one in front of them. "He's in here?"

Marlene didn't answer but continued to smile at her. As Liv watched, the waitress's eyes shifted; the pupils narrowed and elongated until they resembled a cats. Sharp, vicious looking fangs slid into view from behind her lips.

"Oh shit…" Liv mumbled. Behind her, she heard the light tapping of high heels on cement. She whirled around and saw the prostitute from the front of the diner. Her eyes had taken on the same shape as the waitress's and her teeth had also morphed into two rows of razor sharp fangs.

"You do this one," the hooker simpered. "I don't like girl-meat."

Marlene shrugged and lunged forward, latching onto Liv's shoulders and twisting her neck to the side.

"It's all the same to me," Marlene purred before burying her teeth in Liv's neck.

The world around them grew hazy and off-balance. Liv felt like the light was growing dimmer and the ground teetered one direction and then another. Her eyes grew heavy and each time she blinked, it was more and more difficult to force them open. She slowly crumpled to the ground and, the next time she closed her eyes, they didn't reopen.

When Liv came to, she was tied to a chair in a large room that looked like an abandoned mechanical shop. It was dark, though. The only light was what filtered in from the streetlamps outside. The first thing she saw, through the blurry fog of venom that still clung to her senses and the thick tangle of hair that fell in her face and obscured her view, was a dead man, lying on the floor to her right. His eyes were open wide and his face was a pale, bluish green.

"Oh, shit," Liv moaned. Her head ached and she couldn't remember ever feeling so dizzy.

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," a familiar voice reassured her.

Liv raised her head, slowly, wincing at even that tiny move and came face to face with Sam. His throat was smeared with blood and he didn't look much better than she felt, but he was alive.

"Sam!" she cried out. "You're alive!" Liv almost wept with relief.

"Yeah, I'm alive. For now. But we have to get out of here. And, how did you get here anyway? Where's Krissy?" Sam demanded. He sounded angry, Liv realized. Weak, but definitely angry.

"Is she here?" a man asked. He was also tied to a chair on the other side of Sam. Liv hadn't noticed him at first but she quickly recognized him as Krissy's father, Lee.

"No, she's still home. I told her to stay there. When you didn't call us back, we got worried. And Dean's not answering his phone so I came to find you. Dammit!" Liv cursed at herself. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Sam shook his head. "No more than I did. Neither of us had good information."

"None of us did," Lee added.

Liv shook her head, trying to clear the fog that lingered. She saw that Sam's hands were tied behind his back, as hers were. She tugged on the bindings, twisting her hands in every direction, but the ropes only seemed to tighten.

"Hey, hey! Stop, stop… Someone's coming!" Sam whispered, harshly.

On the other side of the room, a door crashed open and the prostitute, who Liv now saw wore a tacky, gold necklace. The necklace was molded into a name - Sally. She sauntered over to them, smiling wickedly.

"Hunter day at the all-you-can-eat. How's everyone feeling? Good?"

Liv glared up at her. None of them responded.

"Strong silent. Fine. I don't need much entertainment with my meal," Sally leered. She stalked over to Lee and leaned down, bringing her lips to his neck which was already ravaged by hers and Marlene's fangs.

"Hey, Sally," Sam suddenly said, interrupting her. "Uh… did I ever tell you about the Vetalas I took down in Utah? Yeah. You remind me of them. Except they were so much… younger."

Liv's eyes widened. He was taunting it. But, why?

Sally left Lee's side and sidled up to Sam, her smile just barely faltering.

"I tied them up," Sam continued. "Not because I had to. More so… I could take my time."

The Vetala's lips twisted into an angry grimace. "You're lying," she said, venomously.

"No. I just wanted you to know how much I enjoyed cutting up your sisters," Sam said. Liv couldn't believe it. He was actually smiling up at the monster.

"Shut up!" Sally shouted and wrenched his head back. She buried her face in his throat and fed.

"Stop it!" Liv shrieked, but the Vetala ignored her. Liv screamed until Sally stepped back, grinning at her. Sam's eyes had closed and his head hung limply. Liv prayed that he had only passed out.

"I don't normally do this but you're just too loud, sweetheart," Sally said and crouched beside Liv. She lowered her mouth to Liv's neck.

Liv tried to twist away but the Vetala was so strong. She felt the fangs slide into her flesh, ripping open the marks that had only just started to heal. The venom hit her instantly; the darkened room faded away.

"See you later," Sally said, as she stood, and ambled out of the building, her hips swaying, seductively. Liv passed out before she could formulate a witty comeback.

When Liv woke again, both of the Vetalas had returned with another unconscious man. They had strapped him into a chair and tying his hands behind his back, like the others. Sam was still out but Lee was awake, just barely, and watched them with hatred in his eyes.

"Good thing we picked up a new one," Marlene said. "This one's about tapped out. You want to finish him together?" She motioned toward Lee, who looked weaker than before.

"Sure," Sally answered. "Love to."

Sally began to advance on Lee but suddenly Dean was there with a heavy metal bar in one hand. He swung it at Sally; it connected solidly with her head and she fell to the ground. Dean whipped out his knife as Marlene approached him.

"Dean!" Liv tried to yell but something was still wrong with her voice. It was tired sounding, and feeble.

"Not so fast," Marlene threatened him. She swung at him, knocking the knife from his hand. An instant later, she had him pinned to the wall of a metal cage behind him.

Liv watched helplessly as the Vetala held him there, her fingers tightening around his throat.

"On the counter! Beside you!" Liv called out, hoarsely. Her voice was still too weak but he must have heard her. He grabbed a crowbar from the counter and swung. It collided with Marlene's face and she dropped him. Dean snatched up his knife and held it to her throat, preparing to finish her off, but Krissy ran across the room, distracting them all.

"Dad, I got you!" Krissy called, and started to hurry toward her father. Sally woke, just as she was running by, and grabbed her leg.

"No!" Lee shouted, but it was too late. Sally had wrapped an arm around Krissy's throat and had pulled her away.

"Let her go," Sally demanded. "Or Little Miss Sunshine here gets it." Her eyes shifted into menacing slits and her fangs extended.

Dean lowered his knife and Marlene darted away to stand beside Sally and behind Lee.

Liv struggled with the ropes behind her back, but they were far too tight for her to pull free.

"What were you thinking, bringing her here?" Lee asked. His expression was pained and distressed.

Dean didn't answer. He took a step closer to Sally, who still held Krissy, but she stopped him.

"Now drop the knife!" she shouted.

Dean complied, irately. The knife clattered into place on the ground in front of Sam.

"She's just a child," he said, reasonably. "Let her go."

"Yeah, I don't think we'll be letting anyone go," Sally answered.

"Daddy…" Krissy called softly.

Lee looked up at her. "It's okay, baby. Everything's gonna be fine."

"Alright," Marlene snapped. "Enough with the family bonding. It's time for you to shut up." She sank her fangs into Lee's neck and began to feed. Fresh blood spilled done his throat and onto his shirt.

"Daddy, no!" Krissy shrieked. "Dean!"

"He can't help you," Sally taunted. "No one can."

"I guess I'll have to help myself, then," Krissy said. She twisted away from Sally's grasp and plunged a knife into the Vetala's chest, twisting the blade. Sally withered into a dusty, dry, husk before their eyes and fell to the ground.

Marlene leapt away from Lee and charged at Dean. He snatched up his knife.

Still stuck in her chair, Liv could think of only one thing to do. "Hey, bitch!" she shouted. She had nothing to follow up with but it was enough. The Vetala paused, distracted, and turned to her with a blood stained sneer. It gave Krissy just enough time to slice apart the ropes holding Sam in place. He took the knife from her and lunged forward, burying it in Marlene's torso. A second later, she fell to the ground, desiccated.

Dean hurried over to Liv and cut away the ropes. Krissy did the same for her father.

"Bad actress, huh?" Krissy said, smiling at Dean.

"Yeah, I take it back," he answered. He helped Liv to her feet and pulled her into his arms. She was grateful for the support; after sitting for so long, and the venom that still lingered in her bloodstream, she felt like she might fall down. "You, on the other hand, are in big trouble," he said, sternly, but he followed it with such a sweet kiss that she doubted there was any real weight behind his threat.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Liv asked. A bandage was taped over the wound on her throat but she felt almost completely better. Sam and Dean sat in the front of the car. They had just said goodbye to Krissy and her father while Liv waited.

"Yeah, she'll be fine," Dean answered.

Liv took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had something to say, something that had been niggling at her for a while, but she was afraid of how Dean would react.

"Listen," she began, carefully. "I think it's time you guys taught me how to fight. If I'm going to be here, with you, then I need to be able to defend myself."

Sam looked back at her and smiled. "She's right, you know," he said, turning to Dean.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled. "But just so you know, it's not gonna be easy or fun."

Liv leaned back in the seat, surprised that it had been so simple but uneasy, all the same. Now that it was going to happen, she was starting to realize how difficult Dean could make the process.