Hi! Sorry, I know it said it'd only take a few hours to get this one up and it's definitely been longer than that, but I'm a compulsive editor, so it took longer than planned. Hope you like this one better, it's got a little more depth to it and I prefer it so much more than the last one. This is actually the section I've been excited to start, so I hope you all enjoy it!

I'd forgotten how beautiful Texas was. The heat, though quite humid, is enjoyable for me. I've never really enjoyed the cold. This was our last hunt of the trip and Sam and Dean are just finishing dropping off the surviving victim of the rakshasa, a spirit that feeds on the flesh of humans. I'm cleaning the brass knives we used on it. Oddly enough, this motel has a little porch area out the back of our room. The seat is comfortable and no one else is outside, so yes, I'm sitting on the porch cleaning the weapons we used to kill a monster. Maybe not the wisest idea, but like I said, it's beautiful out. Sue me.

"You almost done?" Dean takes the seat next to me.

"Just finishing up the last one. What's up?"

"We planned for two more days, right?"

"Yep. This one was easier than we anticipated."

"What do you want to do? Go home or stay here for another few days?"

"I'd like to stay, if that's alright with you."

"It works for me. Sam and I were thinking we'd go to the bar tonight, anyway."

"Okay. Would you mind if I stayed here?"

"Need some alone time?" I nod. "No problem. Just stay safe."

I roll my eyes and parrot the rules at him, "lock the door and shoot anything that moves, no questions asked."

"Good. We'll see you later, then." Dean vanishes inside to change, as Sam just finished doing. My taller brother takes the chair Dean just left.

"Are you sure you'll be alright alone tonight? You did have a nightmare last night."

"It was nothing compared to what I used to have. Besides, I don't plan to sleep for a little while. I'm going to update my journal and maybe call Jacks and Aiden and the rest of them."

"If you're sure. Just remember-"

"Lock the door and shoot anything that moves, I know." Sam laughs.

"Stay safe, little sister."

"You, too, Sammy." The smile on my brother's face at the nickname makes my heart swell. The first time I'd called him that, he just about crushed my ribs from the hug. Being allowed to call him that, something only Dean is able to do, really cements my place as their sister. He stands, ruffles my hair, at which I balk, then walks inside, yelling for Dean to hurry up. They disappear out the front door, but only leave once they hear me turn the deadbolt. This isn't the first time I've taken a night to stay in the motel rather than hustle or relax with them.

Last night's nightmare could have been so much worse. It was our third night in Texas. Despite the fact that we're in Houston, not Dallas, the stress got to me. We're too close to his prison for my taste. Still, I do love Texas and want to stay the extra two reasons for this, that I haven't told my brothers, are first, to help myself realize that I'm safe at home. If he can't reach me here, he can't reach me there. My second reason, as I mentioned, is because I love it here. Finally, my third reason is to write and deliver a letter to the man who rescued me. I grab my journal and move to the porch. I set a pen to paper and start to write the hundredth letter I've attempted to Ten.

Ten,

This letter, I know, is long overdue. But I've been here in Texas and it finally feels like the right time to send one of these. I've written hundreds over these past eight years. I don't think there's words to accurately explain my gratitude. You, of course, know some of my history, with my mother and stepfather, and medical diagnosis. After I was taken back to Kansas, I was eventually placed with a woman named Joanie. Because of you and her, I was able to discover cooking and intend to be a chef. I learned that I'm not actually schizophrenic, that I was simply a child looking for attention.

So what if I've been in and out of the hospital, I am so much stronger than I was before. Even Joanie's death this past year, though heartbreaking, lead me to my brothers and another step in my healing process. If you hadn't stayed those two days in the hospital, I know I wouldn't have lasted the next year until I met Joanie. The houses I was placed in were intended to make me feel safe; every family had a member who looked similar to you in stature. None of them were able to handle my nightmares and flashbacks, but because they had someone like you in them, they were able to calm me down enough that I didn't need to be sedated.

I don't know if they've told you anything about me. All I know about you is that you actually live in Houston and spent some time in prison. I was told you got out a year ago, about the same time I met my brothers. I hope your adjustment period went well and that me mentioning that wasn't immensely rude. I hope this letter finds you and all of the family in good health.

Thank you. Thank you for saving my life, for giving me a chance, for knocking his teeth out, for staying with me when I clung to you, for testifying. Thank you for everything you did for me. I could never say it enough. Thank you.

Ava

I fold up the letter, slip it into an envelope, and write just his name on the front. Ten, as a mob enforcer and kingpin's wife's bodyguard, will likely be out of his house tonight. And yes, the way I learned what he does is utterly illegal. Then again, what he does is utterly illegal, so it's fair, right? I stick the letter into my jacket pocket, slip a knife into my boot, a gun at my waistband, and a angel blade in my sleeve. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Then I grab my key and walk out of the room. Ten is staying with some friends about a mile away.

The walk is long enough for me to start to get antsy and nervous. Somehow, I manage to get myself to open the mailbox, put the letter in, and walk away. I tip my head down as I walk away, glancing out the corner of my eye at the car that pulls into Ten's driveway. It's too much to hope that they didn't see me put the letter in, but I keep walking quickly. Ten gets out of the passenger side door. He's gotten bigger and has some more tattoos. I look back at him and for a moment, I think he might recognize me, but I step up my pace anyway.

"Hey," he bellows. I duck my head and keep going. If he wanted to, he could run to catch me, but he apparently decides that a letter isn't something to get worked up over. Whoever is driving, however, thinks differently, and follows me for a little while. He never gets out of the car and never gets a look at my face. I head into the bar I know Sam and Dean are at rather than giving away our motel. They think it's weird that I decided to show up anyway, but don't ask too many questions, just accepting my odd choice. After all, they've done weirder.