I don't leave my room until the next day.
I cry a lot and try to stay as quiet as possible so that no one hears me. I feel like a coward, hiding away under my blankets, but I can't go out there.
I can't face Mary or Sam or Dean. Or Magda. Poor Magda.
But I just can't. It's all too much.
So I stay under my blanket and try to sleep or at least turn off my thoughts.

The next morning, I get up at six, take a shower, clean the kitchen and the library, make toast and coffee at half past seven.
Like any other normal day.

When the coffee smell fills the halls, the others come climbing out of their beds.
Magda's first. She grabs a cup, gets some coffee and sits down next to me and my mug. I smile at her. "You okay?"
"Of course I am. Are you?"
"Yeah. Sorry about yesterday."
She shakes her head, "It's no big deal. I just hope everyone is okay."
"Yeah, me too."

We sit in silence for a few minutes.
Sam is next. He too grabs a mug and gets some coffee and sits down at the kitchen table across from me.
"Good morning." His smile isn't quite the way it usually is, it's off somehow.

Neither of us expected Dean to be up this early. It's barely after eight, he's still supposed to be in bed.
But no, here he is. Groaning, he takes a mug too, gets some coffee and sits down on my other side.
The lamp seems to be too bright for him. He's got one hell of a hangover (not that I know what that feels like, but he looks exactly the way hungover people in movies look).
Sam is about to say something, when Dean shushes him, waving his hand around in the air between him and his brother.

And again, we sit in silence, drinking coffee, trying to get ready for the day, trying to wake up as much as possible before someone starts the conversation we're all kind of dreading.
But before anyone can speak up, we hear footsteps in the hallway.
They come closer.
We all turn to the door, mugs are being put down, Magda's is literally hovering in the air.
Mary stops in the doorway, gulps audibly and then walks over to the shelf.
With a cup of coffee in her hand, she sits down at the table, across from Dean, next to Sam.
She takes a sip and turns to Magda.
Magda, who's cup is still floating in front of her face, is the first to speak up. "Who are you?"
"Mary Winchester. Sam and Dean's mom."
Looking her up and down, definitely noticing her age and the lack of age difference between her and the brothers, Magda raises and eyebrow and just says: "Riiight."
Mary watches on as Magda's cup floats closer to her face, tilts and Magda takes a sip of coffee.
Sam and Dean, who are used to Magda using her powers for basically everything at the moment, just smile at her. And at their mother, who's puzzled look is making me smile too.

For a second, I almost forget yesterday, everything that happened. Almost.
And then Sam's phone screen lights up, he takes a look and says "Looks like we got a werewolf, right here in Lebanon."
I close my eyes for a second, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, trying to calm myself down the way Maya was taught to calm herself down whenever she felt like the wolf might take control. And it kind of works. When Sam and Dean get up to go to the Impala, I tell them I'm coming with and my voice sounds pretty determined. I hope.
Mary and Magda stay behind, Magda promises us to cook something for us, for when we get back home.
She hugs me when I get up to leave, tells me to take care of myself. I tell her not to worry.
We all grab our stuff from our rooms, Dean takes a few ibuprofen pills and I worry about his liver, but he has to function right now. Once we're in the car, Sam starts telling us about the case. At first, I'd hoped that we could save the werewolf, help them control that side of themselves. But there's three dead people and two hurt ones in the hospital. The days fit, the moon's about to be completely full.
Crap.

We go talk to witnesses, try to find out who killed those people. This time, I let Sam and Dean do the talking. Yesterday and what happened the year before is still too fresh in my memory for me to deal with a werewolf right now.
If this person just had had someone to take care of them. The way Maya did. Then maybe they wouldn't have to be hunted, killed.
But they do need to be taken care of. We have to do this.

By nightfall we're pretty sure we know who the wolf is: a guy called Joe. We're sitting in the Impala outside of his house, waiting for him to turn, to confirm our suspicions. And then we'll take him out. He's been attacking and killing the people who work for the firm he was just fired from. What a petty reason to kill people. Not that there is a good reason. What we're doing here isn't a really good reason either, but it's the best we can do at the moment. I hate this.
It's almost midnight, when we hear glass shatter. We guessed right. There's a dark shadow running from the house down the street, most likely toward another former coworker.
Dean starts the car and drives to the house of Lydia Wilson, the one we suspect Joe will go after. He's driving way too fast and I guess, if it had been anyone else behind the wheel, I'd be afraid we wouldn't survive the short drive. But we do.
The lights downstairs in Lydia's pretty little house are on and when we get out of the car we hear noises coming from a broken window. Dean and Sam both pull out their guns and reluctantly I get mine too. I hate guns. But at least mine's always loaded with silver bullets I etched devil's traps into. So I'm basically prepared for anything.
After looking back at both of us, nodding and waiting for us to nod back, signalling him that we're ready, Dean kicks in the front door. Subtle.
We're all running toward the living room, toward the noises. We hear things being thrown, something heavy falling to the ground, and again glass shattering.
Dean is the first inside the living room. He points his gun at the dark haired man kneeling over a woman's body. "Stop! Get away from her!"
Sam takes a stand next to his brother, pointing his gun as well. I'm about to get between them, my gun drawn, ready to pull the trigger, when I hear his voice.
"She's already dead, the wolf is gone!"
He turns his head toward us, baring his teeth, his green eyes almost glowing, pointing at the broken window someone clearly jumped out of, and that's when I recognize him. Mitch.
"Stop!" I yell and run to him, falling on my knees in front of him, next to the body, and turn to the Winchesters: "Stop!"
"Who is he?" Dean hasn't lowered his gun, still pointing it at Mitch's head, safety off, finger on the trigger.
Sam is yelling too: "You know him?"
"Yes! Yes I know him!"
Why can't they just fucking take their guns down? Just leave Mitch alone? I hold out my hands in their direction, like a shield, protecting Mitch.
"Don't shoot him! He's the closest thing I have to a Dad!"