A/N: Why must I have responsibilties and obligations that require me to get up off the couch and close the lap top? No fair:( Oh well...I supposed it's healthy to join the three dimensional world from time to time. Enjoy:)

They arrived at the cemetery a little over twenty minutes later, Dean silently thanking God that James Wettering's grave was in a rural cemetery rather than one of the city cemeteries, where they would never be able to take care of this undetected. It was now completely dark out and Dean drove slowly through the cemetery while Sam shined a light out the window to better read the names on the markers. They located the Wettering family mausoleum somewhere near the center of the graveyard, surrounded by a handful of gravestones and a wrought iron fence. Dean pulled up as close as he could and cut the engine.

MJ was still fast asleep while the brothers rummaged through the trunk, gathering the needed supplies. Dean eyed the section of the graveyard while he loaded salt rounds into his shotgun.

"Pretty fancy digs for a bunch of dead people." He commented.

Sam nodded. "It used to be tradition for families with money to spare no expense when it came to burial. Nice plots, fences and gates. It was considered a good investment."

"Well, just 'cause it's high end doesn't make me feel any more guilty about desecrating it." Dean said, closing the trunk.

Sam smirked, canting his head toward the car. "Should we wake her?" He asked.

Dean nodded. "Can't leave her out here alone. She'll have to hang out inside." Dean's eyes were hard and his tone unfeeling. Sam took notice that Dean was referring to MJ as if she were a burdensome civilian he had been charged to look after. Sam frowned at his brother and considered calling him out. He quickly changed his mind, deciding that was a conversation for later. Right now they needed to focus on finishing this thing off.

Dean took the bolt cutters from Sam. "Hopefully it'll be quick." He said heading toward the gate.

Sam opened the back door and nudged MJ awake. She sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. Sam's stomach clenched at how young and fragile she looked at the moment, her cheeks rosy and her hair a mess of tangles around her face. He dreaded bringing her inside with them, but knew Dean was right. They couldn't leave her alone in the car, especially with the possibility that a demon had her in his sights.

"We're here." He said quietly, straightening up outside her door. "Feeling better?" he asked as she got slowly out of the car.

She nodded up at him, her expression neutral. "Headache's almost gone." She said.

Sam closed the car door behind her and grabbed the accelerant and salt before leading the way toward the mausoleum where Dean had already snapped off the padlock using the bolt cutters and pushed the door open. The door opened with little resistance, most likely due to being used recently after James' funeral. Dean led the way into the tomb, clicking on his flashlight.

Dean's flashlight beam flooded over the room, revealing a dozen caskets lining the walls of the small stone building. Dean stopped just inside the door, scanning the room as Sam moved to his left, checking the small plaques on each coffin, identifying its occupant. MJ went to move around Dean to check the caskets on the right side wall. When she drew level with Dean, he threw out his right arm, halting her progress. She looked up at him, to find his eyes on her, his face unreadable. He jerked his head backward, toward the door they had just entered. "You stay back against the wall by the door. Don't move. I mean it." He held her gaze for a moment, his eyes hard. "Don't even think about trying anything."

MJ didn't budge at first, just looking back at her brother. His order didn't surprise her in the least. In fact, she was shocked she was even being allowed to step foot inside the doorway. No, it wasn't his words that bothered her, but the way he had said them…and the way he looked at her.

MJ swallowed and silently nodded, taking her place to the right of the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and kept her eyes on Dean as he worked. She could feel Sammy's eyes on her, checking her reaction to Dean's harsh command. She couldn't afford one of Sammy's patented sympathetic looks right now, and so her focus never wavered from her eldest brother.

Dean shone the flashlight over the caskets against the back wall. Not finding James there he turned to the far right wall, bending down to read the names on the four coffins against that wall. After shining his light on the second coffin there, Dean gave a sharp, short whistle, one that Sam and MJ were trained to acknowledge immediately. Sam's head spun to look at Dean, who canted his head telling Sam he'd found their guy. As Sam made his way across the small room, Dean leveled a warning look at MJ: an unnecessary reminder that she was not to so much as wiggle her big toe in their direction. MJ barely managed to keep from rolling her eyes in response.

Dean grabbed his shotgun from its resting place on the floor and flipped it around, cocking his arm back, intent on using the butt of the gun to break the latches on the casket. Just as Dean began to bring the gun down to meet its target an earsplitting noise erupted all around them.

To the left, to the left
Everything you own in the box to the left
In the closet that's my stuff, yes
If I bought it please don't touch

And keep talking that mess, that's fine
But could you walk and talk at the same time?

All three siblings' hands flew to their heads, trying to protect their ears from the deafening din. Dean's gun clattered to the floor. Dean threw a glance at MJ before locking eyes with his brother.

"He's here!" Sam shouted. Dean had no chance of hearing him over the music, but got the message loud and clear. He turned back to MJ quickly removing one hand from his head to motion toward the door.

"Get out!" He yelled. No sooner had the words left his mouth than the door to the crypt slammed shut.

MJ looked between her brothers and the door before yanking on the door handle with all her might. It didn't budge.

And it's my name that's on that tag
So remove your bags let me call you a cab

Standin' in the front yard tellin' me
How I'm such a fool, talkin' 'bout
How I'll never ever find a man like you
You got me twisted

Dean let out a string of curses that, even muted, was impressive as he retrieved his gun and began his onslaught of the latch again. Sam stood beside him, eyes expertly scanning the crypt, shot gun at the ready. MJ stood frozen by the now sealed door, feeling naked and useless with no weapons.

You must not know 'bout me
You must not know 'bout me
I could have another you in a minute
Matter fact he'll be here in a minute, baby

It was nearly impossible to concentrate on anything, the music was so painfully loud, echoing off the walls of the tiny building. Dean let out a relieved groan when the latch gave. He quickly removed the broken lock and pulled the casket open.

Sam's attention turned toward the inside of the casket, and he placed his forearm to his face, trying to shield himself from the stench of the decomposing body. Dean turned to grab the accelerant and salt, glancing at MJ as he did. He froze, his eyes going wide in horror. She saw his mouth form her name, shouting a warning, but it was too late. Something cold and solid made contact with her left cheek, sending her flying to the floor, skidding to a halt as she crashed into the wall, face to the floor.

So go ahead and get gone
Call up that chick and see if she's home
Oops, I bet ya thought that I didn't know
What did ya think I was puttin' you out for?

MJ rolled onto her side slowly, rubbing at her left cheek bone, feeling like that side of her face had exploded. Her eyes were watering from the pain of the blow as she looked up, trying to make out her assailant.

His right fist was still raised in front of him and she barely had time to take in his livid, deranged eyes before he exploded into a cloud of dust. She turned to see Sammy standing a few feet to her right, shot gun raised and pointed at where the spirit had been standing. He quickly lowered the weapon and moved forward, extending his hand to MJ. She reached out to take it when James reappeared beside Sam. MJ opened her mouth to warn him, but James was quicker, pushing Sam back with such force that he lost his footing, falling backward, his head colliding with the corner of a casket.

You must not know 'bout me
You must not know 'bout me
I will have another you by tomorrow
So don't you ever for a second get to thinkin'
You're irreplaceable

"Sammy!" MJ shouted as she scrambled to her hands and knees, intent on getting to her clearly unconscious brother. Her progress was halted, however, when two legs appeared in front of her, blocking her path. She slowly raised her head, taking him in inch by inch. His entire body was quivering as he stared down at her with hate filled eyes. He was taking quick, shallow breaths, like it was a last ditch effort to control his flaring temper. MJ took in his face, and had a fleeting vision of what he might have been when he was alive: dark complexion, kind eyes. Handsome. But all of that was gone now. His eyes were lifeless and uncaring, his skin sallow and pale. A large blood stain covered the front of his shirt, and MJ couldn't help but stare at it as he reached down, grasping a handful of her hair in his fist and pulling her to her feet.

So since I'm not your everything,
How about I'll be nothing? Nothing at all to you
Baby I won't shed a tear for you

MJ whimpered in pain, her head pounding once again from the painfully loud music and the constant tugging as James held fast to her hair, leaning in close, just staring at her. She saw Dean move toward them out of her peripheral vision, shot gun raised, but he didn't even get a shot off before James had reached out with his left hand. It looked as though he barely touched Dean's chest, yet Dean was tossed backward with all the force of being struck by a car. He fell back into James' coffin and slid to the floor.

"Stop!" MJ shouted, but she knew he couldn't hear her. James reached out his free hand, sweeping it across her chest. She cringed back, expecting to feel a slice or a burn. She slowly opened her eyes when she realized she was unharmed and looked down. Her stomach plummeted when she saw her shirt and hoodie, torn across the middle, hanging open, the shreds of fabric dangling over her bare skin. MJ tried to cover herself back up, but the clothing was too destroyed. She watched in horror as James made another swiping motion, this time lower, across her thighs. She felt her jeans give as they too were ripped apart.

I won't lose a wink of sleep
'Cause the truth of the matter is
Replacing you is so easy

When James pulled her even closer, raising his hand to her chest, any thought of being modest went out the window, and she stopped trying to hold her clothes together, instead focusing on pushing James' hands away from her racing heart. She could see determination and fury plainly in his eyes. She held his wrist in her hands, trying in vain to hold him at bay, but he was far stronger than her. She knew what came next. He was going to reach into her chest and tear her heart into pieces. MJ looked around frantically. His grip on her hair was so tight she could barely turn her head, but she could see Sammy, lying on the floor behind James, completely still. She couldn't see Dean any longer. She felt tears well up in her eyes as James' fingers came into contact with her skin, instantly burning.

To the left, to the left.
Everything you own in the box to the left

To the left, to the left.
Don't you ever for a second get to thinking
You're irreplaceable.

"Please." MJ begged, growling in pain as she felt his fingers burn through her skin. A pained sob escaped her lips, though no one heard it over the still blaring music.

Her obvious agony only seemed to encourage him and she saw the look in his eyes shift from angry to vindicated for a split second, before it was replaced by shock and horror. His eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth in a silent scream as fire seemed to engulf him. MJ felt the pain and burning subside as James was swallowed by the flames one moment, then vanished the next, leaving behind a pile of black ash and an eerie silence as the music came to an abrupt end.

MJ fell to her knees, her legs no longer able to support her weight. She turned to Dean, and saw the blazing fire within James' coffin. Dean was standing in front of the flames, his face ashen and set in a painful grimace. He was gripping his left thigh, which MJ realized was impaled by a piece of metal from the coffin latch he had broken.

"Oh my God, Dean!" MJ shouted, getting clumsily to her feet and starting toward him.

Dean threw out his hand, gesturing for her not to come any closer. "Don't look." He ordered.

MJ stopped in her tracks, knowing what Dean was about to do, and finding herself incapable of turning away. She stood there for a moment, paralyzed by fear and shock. She stared at Dean's leg another second, before suddenly remembering she was essentially naked, the tattered rags hanging from her body hardly qualifying as clothing. She quickly wrapped her arms around herself, turning away from Dean. That's when she caught sight of Sam, still lying motionless on the floor, a trickle of blood making its way across his forehead.

"Sammy!" She shouted, her voice breaking on a sob as she quickly made her way to him. She lowered herself to the floor beside him, pulling his head into her lap. "Sammy wake up." She pleaded. She heard Dean curse loudly behind her as she pressed the strips of fabric that had been her t-shirt to his bleeding forehead. She nearly laughed in relief when Sam stirred, his eyes fluttering as she kept one hand pressed firmly to the gash.

Dean limped toward his siblings, the left leg of his jeans torn and stained with blood. He knelt down next to MJ, inspecting Sam's wound.

"Sammy? You with us?" he asked, his voice breathless with worry and fatigue. His fingers moved gently over the linear gash, assessing the damage.

Sam grunted in response, his eyes finally opening to look up at MJ. She smiled tiredly back down at him, stroking her hand over his hair.

"Needs stitches." Dean muttered before looking up at MJ.

MJ felt his eyes on her, but kept her gaze on Sam. Dean reached out, cupping her left cheek with his hand, his thumb ghosting gently over the beginnings of a bruise there. MJ let her eyes flicker quickly toward her eldest brother, but he was looking down, taking in the state of her clothes. MJ quickly turned her gaze back to Sam, feeling her face reddening under Dean's touch. After a few seconds that felt like hours to MJ, Dean dropped his hand and quickly shrugged out of his light jacket, draping it over MJ's shoulders.

Sam was slowly sitting up, looking around him, his expression bewildered. He looked up at Dean, his eyebrows furrowed, waiting for Dean to tell him it was really over.

Dean stood, wincing slightly as he put weight on his still bleeding leg. "I toasted the fucker." He croaked before extending his hand and pulling Sam to his feet. Sam swayed slightly before gaining his balance, and shuffling after Dean toward the door, MJ's arm around his waist. He looked down at his sister, taking in her haggard appearance. "You okay?" He asked.

MJ just nodded, pulling Dean's jacket tighter around her. The adrenaline was wearing off, and she wasn't dumb enough to take Dean's concern for her well-being as a sign that she was forgiven. They had successfully finished a case, but absolutely nothing between them had been resolved.

MJ hated that instead of feeling the relief and sense of accomplishment that usually followed eliminating something evil, all she felt was dread and a sense of foreboding. She knew her recent behavior was absolutely ridiculous and self-destructive, but she just couldn't see any other way…

She felt slightly panicked when she considered her current situation. She was trying to fly under the radar, be less of a burden and more of a help to her brothers by keeping quiet and staying out of their way, but this only seemed to work to increase Dean's frustration and sour his already lousy moods. She'd clearly not helped matters by bringing on that vision, but if she was being honest with herself, that had very little to do with making Dean happy. That was about solving a case. After all, what was more important than doing their job and keeping people safe?