Hey guys! Been a minute! Enjoy the chappie. Keep healthy and safe! Thanks for the reviews.

The car came to a stop without anymore conversation at a gas station, a young girl with dirty blonde hair was standing against a pump, seeming contemplative. She called out to the car as Dean pulled himself from it. "You're back."

Dean shrugged, saying, "Never left."

Sophia pulled up and leaned against the car, watching them curiously. "You still looking for your friends?" The younger girl's eyes caught hers. "Who's this?"

Sophia grinned back. "My truck broke down. He was gonna give me a ride." Indiana was just a little too close to Illinois for comfort. Sophia turned towards Dean, giving him a glare, stepping forward and grabbing his shoulder, pulling him down and growling quietly in his ear, "I don't trust this town. Keep yer mouth shut about me." She pulled back, smiling sweetly, "M'kay, John?"

Emily was watching the two with a curious, knowing look, smirking at Dean as he watched the woman walk away, her wide hips swaying, his eyes glued to her round back end, clothed in dark, boot cut jeans that were half tucked in her boots to keep the rain from drenching them. When Dean turned back, he blinked at the younger girl's expression, saying gruffly, "Uh, you mind filling it up there, Emily?"

Smiling back knowingly, Emily nodded, pulling the pump from its hold.

Dean's gaze wandered back to the hazel eyed Sophia as she walked away, pulling up her phone as she walked towards her parked truck.

Emily let out a small laugh, "So, you planning on taking her home?"

Dean, startled, jerked his gaze away from her rear and towards the mischievous gaze of the dirty blonde girl. "What the heck? No way. I'm not a guy to take a girl home to mom and dad."

Eyebrows raising, Emily leaned against the pump as it hissed, "Really? So you've thought about it?"

"What?" Seeming cornered, Dean shook his head, changing the subject abruptly. "You should learn to mind your own business, kid. Did you grow up here?"

Emily sighed, shrugging. "I came here when I was 13. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."

Seeming contemplative, Dean answered, "They're nice people."

Playing with the chain of her necklace, Emily nodded, with a slightly sarcastic smirk on her lips, "Yeah, everybody's nice here."

Sophia, however, wasn't feeling so nice. Sophia made it a habit to ignore unrelated phone calls when she was hunting alone. With how crazy the world was, being unaware for a moment in a place filled with the supernatural could be a death sentence. But at the familiar area code, Sophia cringed, answering hesitantly.

"Sophia Singer speaking." Sophia leaned against her truck, watching as Dean spoke with the girl. They seemed to be having a rather serious conversation. One she was glad to get out of. She never was one for speaking with the locals. They often took her southern accent and strawberry-blonde hair with a grain of salt.

The cool voice crackled over the phone. "Sophia! Thank goodness. This is Officer Tom Phillips. Don't hang up!"

A flash of a younger man with bright red hair and brown eyes came to her thoughts before she answered with a nod. "Hey, Tom. How can I help ya?" She feigned calm surprise, pretending not to know. Pretending that her heart didn't ache for the people who had died.

The line was quiet for a moment, and Sophia prompted, softly, "Tom?"

"Uh, yeah, I'm still here." Such an awkward man. Sophia smiled despite herself. "So… about the accident..."

Sophia let a shaky breath, "It sure wasn't any accident."

There was another pause. "Yeah. I kinda figured. Any other diner, and I would have ruled it foul play. Um… Just wanted to let you know… we're covering for ya here. Calling it a gas leak." The man went quiet for a long moment.

Sophia let loose a long breath. "Matt tell you about my… side job?"

"Yep. He didn't wanna keel over without someone in the department knowing. It's kinda common knowledge in Twin Brooks at this point."

Sophia relaxed for what felt like the first time since the accident. "Is that right now. And I'm the last one to hear about it?" Tom spit and sputtered over the line, and Sophia let a chuckle, "I'm just messin' around Tom. I can't thank you enough."

"Yeah, well, don't thank me yet. You still have to fill out all the insurance paperwork." He joked, then went quiet again. "So… when can we expect you back?"

Sophia grimaced, leaning back, watching as Dean went into a diner alone. "I'm a little caught up, right now. Is it at all possible to call back in a day or two?"

Tom stumbled over his words, "Well...the insurance company has kinda been down our throats" he clears his own, "But, uh, I wouldn't mind filing the paperwork out for you, if ya do me a favor."

Sophia grinned, her bad mood instantly clearing. A favor usually entailed something outside - unexplained - by the law. Her mood shifted at the thought of beating the sh*t out of some rinkadink supernatural nuisance that was too close to home and above poor young Tom's pay grade. "Matt used to pull that crap all the time. You know you don't gotta do me no favors for me to do my job."

Tom laughed, "You're the only one who knows how to deal with these sorts of things… Nighttime complaint's are driving the Misses crazy, and I can only image what's going on in the minds of the neighbors."

Sophia laughed quietly, shaking her head. "Always sending me in to clean up some mess."

"Yeah." He laughed, "That's about right."

Sophia was smiling now, watching Dean through the glass windows of the dinner across the way.

"So, it's a deal?" Tom didn't seem too wary about asking.

Sophia was nodding. "Yeah Tom. You have… had Sheriff Matt's support, so I s'pose you have mine as well. You fill out that paperwork and I'll take care of the nuisance."

"Ok, good, and, uh, thanks. Uh, now back to the insurance…"

They exchange boring information for insurance and all the strings tied to that, then Sophia was left to decide whether to take the money or rebuild.

Pausing, Sophia ran fingers through her hair, pressing the speakerphone button on the phone and pulling the tangled blonde strands into a high ponytail. "Well, how 'bout this. Is anyone looking for a place to put in a bar? You know I don't deal with alcohol. Not my cup of tea." Not anymore, that is.

"What… Sophia, really? You know I've been dying to put in a bar for years. I can see it now! Friday night karaoke, some nice scotch and brandy…"

"Yeah yeah Tom, sounds like the makings of a great evening. Don't make me jealous," and she was, but the memories of many bad morning hangovers kept her from taking up the drink again. They talked out the details, Sophia wrapped up the conversation carefully. "Tom, I'm going to finish things up here then I'll head your way to collect the money and deal with that problematic trouble you can't handle."

Tom laughed, good naturedly, not really knowing whether to be offended or grateful, "yeah...see you when I see you, I guess."

Sophia ended the call, staring at the black, wet pavement absently. Without the diner, she was free to hunt, but she liked having something to tie her down - someplace to go home to after a rough hunt. A place to lay down her head and a place to enter back into the mundane world. It kept her sane, really.

A tapping on her window pulled her from her thoughts. The sheriff was leaning heavily on the open door, watching her sternly. "You better pack up and follow me. I already ran your buddy out of town. We don't want any trouble."

Sophia leaned back, resting her back against the bench seat of her truck, a leather boot grinding aggravatedly against the black asphalt. She assumed he meant Dean, seeing as the Impala was MIA. "Buddy? You mean that womanizer I hitched a ride with? You ran him out of town? Hat's off to ya, Sheriff. He was an *ss." This was just what she needed. The police breathing down her back, while her back-up was too far away to be of any help.

"I know what you're trying to pull…"

Sophia stood suddenly, lifting a finger, "Listen here, buddy. I'm just passing through. I lost my diner, four of my friends were killed in the fire, I've got a loose battery clip, the sheriff is breathing down my neck in my town telling me I need to get 'hold o' my insurance, then this tall-dark-and-handsome man tells me he thinks he can have anything he wants just 'cause I asked for help, and you wanna come o'er here and tell me I'm tryin' ta pull something? Up. Yours." Sophia's face was flushed with anger and pain and she popped the hood to her truck, stomping around the officer. She was careful with the truck, unlatching the lock on the hood and pressing it upwards, letting the weight rest on the stands while she adjusted the battery clips carefully. They had been giving her issues for the last couple of months and she needed to invest in some new ones.

The sheriff, slightly stunned, turned to watch with wide eyes as she shut the hood. As she passed the sheriff, she growled, "And another thing!" She climbed into her truck, and slammed the door, "Don't touch my brother's truck." the engine roared to life as she threw it into gear and drove off, giving him the one finger salute.

Sophia drove for a while before she began calming down slightly, "I may have exaggerated a few points…" Sophia growled when she saw the sign 'Burkittsville City Limits'. She pulled over pressing her forehead against the worn leather, taking a deep breath. It was a long moment before she pulled herself together and leaned back. "Dadgummit." Changing gears, Sophia pulled a fast U-turn, grumbling under her breath. "You still have a case Sophia!"

The sky was turning dark by the time Sophia made it back into town, her engine running smoothly. The couple's vehicle was gone and Sophia let a string of cuss words loose as she changed gears and weaved her way through the sleeping town, blaring her horn repeatedly just for kicks. She would be glad to see this town fall to ruin after the Vanir was gone.

As the trees became more ordered, signifying the start of the apple orchard, Sophia pulled off the road, seeing Dean's impala and the couple's car parked just outside of town. The frustration she had felt hours ago came rising up through her and she jumped from the car, pulling open the plastic folding bed cover and picking the lock to the gun case. As soon as it came open, the gleam of antique but well taken care of metal made her grin. "I didn't forget ya, gorgeous."

Sophia grinned, as she yanked a box of her special bullets from the folds of cloth and mounted guns. They were etched with a demon trap, had silver strands that wrapped iron and held a small sliver of blessed wood dipped in the blood of a virgin - she may or may not have ran a local blood drive for the school a few years back and used a purification spell to ensure that it was as close as possible to a virgin's blood. Some of the bullets were filled with gunpowder laced with goofer dust to keep away a hellhound. A small compartment in the iron head of the bullet also held dead man's blood. Really, there were different versions based on the materials she had gathered and her patience. Some were plain jane silver or iron, others were so intricate, they could kill d*mn near anything. Sophia simply moved those to the side and pulled free a large box of good ol' lead. The special ones would do nothing for an effigy. Just slow him down.

She loaded the drum with quick, practiced motions, listening intently to the calls coming from the orchard, before pulling sound mufflers from the lock case down over her ears. It wasn't until she saw motion that she jumped down from the bed of her truck and hefted the gun to her shoulder.

She made a fast, calculated circle around the three forms, watching as Dean took the rear, before positioning herself against the rough bark of a tall apple tree, lifting the gun, and scanning the trees for movement. She kept as still as possible, taking into account the fact that other hunters were present.

A dark figure came into range and she paused, the adrenaline in her system speeding her reaction time enough to slow everything else. The figure had a cloak, fine filaments of hair that spread wide beneath the brim of a hat, face masked by the darkness and distance. Sophia kept her eyes focused on a tree just passed it's left shoulder, playing towards the strength of her peripheral vision, as she noted that it was too dark to see much more than a silhouette and motion. It wasn't until she saw the long blades, the tale-tale sign of an effigy, that she let loose a barrage of shots that rang loudly even with the protective gear.

The fusillade of bullets did exactly as she expected them to do as the figure had to fight for each motion towards the fleeing group. It was animated, with little more than the instinct to kill, so rather than falling back and circling around, the crude scarecrow attempted step after step forward.

Each shot came in a controlled, almost slow, motion as the gun warmed in her hands. Bullet after bullet roared forward.

The feeling was familiar, just as the slow building ache in her shoulder was almost comfortable. It reminded her of afternoons spent at the gun range. It felt like the days spent by her brother's side with a gun at the ready. It felt like when her mom taught her to shoot a .22 magnum. Like the ache that came after felling her first deer with a Savage .270 Rifle. It was a welcomed ache.

She didn't stop until the bullets were gone and she tucked the rather light gun under her shoulder and pulled free a new Glock 26 from a hidden hip holster and shot off a round as she began to back out of the orchard. As soon as the bullets had stopped, the creep of a monster began to move forward with a heavy gait.

She was nearing the edge when she heard Dean shout, "Sophia?!"

Growling, the glock round count dwindled to nothing and she tucked her gun back into the holster and snagged the one tucked in her boot with a grunt, tucking the Tommy under her left arm. "Yeah, Hasselhoff. Shut yer mouth and get on outta here. I'm about 6 bullets from empty and then he's on us."

Dean nodded and hopped into his sleek Chevy and Sophia did the same, setting her Tommy down carefully and starting her engine, following in behind. It was hardly a moment before her phone let out a shrill tone. Sophia grumbled as she dug through the mess of snacks and answered. "Yes?"

"What the h*ll, Sophia?" Dean's voice crackled to life over her phone.

Sophia clicked on the speakerphone and set it in the cupholder. "What?"

"How'd you get your hands on an automatic rifle?" His tone was slightly stern, but beneath that he was longing.

"O' course that's what you focus on…"

"... Well yeah…"

Sophia chuckled, "This is a gen-u-ine Thompson Submachine Rifle, Deano. I have my ways." She grinned, staring out at the dark road.

"I want one!" He whined.

Sophia laughed. "Perks of having a class 3 weapon's license"

There was a long pause over the phone. " have a license?"

"Yeeep. Conceal and carry, the FFL, the ironic Hunter's License…" Sophia tapped away on her steering wheel. "I like to keep things as legal as possible. Hence the diner."

Dean sounded amused, "That's draining all the fun."

"Ah, but who's the one with a Tommy Gun? I didn't see one in the back of your car." The tail end of Dean's Impala lit red as he began to slow down.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm going to drop these people off out of town. You wanna meet up someplace?"

"Yeah. I'll head to the local college."

"Sounds good. Meet you in the parking lot?"

Sophia tapped away at her steering wheel, mind distant as her body went through the motions of driving. "Yeah. Sure. I don't mind. Unlike you, I like books."

A scoff called over the phone and Sophia grinned. Dean laughed out, "No! Please tell me you're not a nerd like my brother!"

Sophia snorted, changing gears, "You're too much like mine."

Dean was quiet for a moment before he asked, "You have a brother? You didn't mention him."

That was not a subject she wanted to talk about. "Uh… yeah. Big brother…"

"Hmm." His tone was pensive. "Is he a hunter, too?"

Sophia sighed, fiddling with the worn leather of the steering wheel as she thought of the best way to answer. "Um. Yes, actually. He's the one who got me into the whole hunting thing to begin with." She grimaced as memories of their last hunting trip flashed through her mind.

"Really? I thought you said it was a family sort of business." His curiosity was peaked

She had said that, hadn't she… "Heck, Dean. I don' wanna talk 'bout that. If ya don't mind."

Dean let a long pause settle over the phone, the angry tones of his music half filtered over the phone.

Sophia sighed, glad he wasn't in front of her to see her expression. "I was too young to be taught yet, Crissy was 20 when Mom and Pap... died, heaven knows Bobby didn't want nothin' ta do with my trainin', so that left Crissy to teach me." Grumbling under her breath, Sophia snarked, "Not that it did me a lick o' good anyhow. Pap had me shootin' rifles at 6 years old."

Dean laughed at my last comment. "Where the heck do you come from, Sophia? Sometimes I think you sound like Bobby, then you go and talk with that accent of yours."

At that, she laughed, the bewitching spell of her past flooding from her. "I'm from Texas, man. 'Bout 40 minutes from Texarkana. Ma and Pap had a little house and a lot o' land, it's a stone's throw from Woodstock. How about you?

"Huh. A Texas girl… I'm from Kansas." Sophia bit her lip, a grin splitting her face as he continued. "Lawrence, Kansas."

"City boy, eh?" Sophia tapped away at her steering wheel. "How'd you get into hunting."

His pause, too, seemed painful. "When Mom died, Dad just… became obsessed. I try to be there for him..."

"But it's tough, I know. How old were you?" The college was on the horizon and Sophia changed gears again.

"Four."

She sighed, slowing further as she turned into the parking lot of a white washed college. The Hunter's life is hardly ever one filled with glory and peace. "Hey, Sophia. I've got to call my brother right quick. Give him an update…"

Sophia sighed, leaning against the headrest after answering, "Go ahead. I need a minute anyhow."

She didn't move as Dean hung up. Too much was on her mind. The memory of Christopher's face when Bobby related what had happened to her, thinking she was asleep in the spare room… looking up into his once happy face, she only found guilt, anger, and the need for revenge.

Tugging her wallet from the console of her truck, Sophia rested a finger on the picture of her and her brother. She was accidental. Ma and Pap had gotten careless one day, ten years after Crissy had been born. Five years later, this picture had been taken.

Christopher was a tall boy. Smart, cool headed, easy going. At least he used to be. In the photo a family stood, Ma, with her blonde ringlets and grey eyes; Pap, with his shaved black hair, jeans, button down, and his cowboy hat; Sophia, dressed in overalls with her hair brushed smooth; and Christopher, with his dark hair, blue eyes, and tall stature, all stood around a table of books and weapons. It was the only picture Sophia had salvaged of the entire family.

When she had been much, much younger, a year after Bobby had taken her in, she had held the hope of seeing that same boy come to life in his eyes again. Now, seven years later, she knew there was no hope. He left.

The crunch of tires against the asphalt and the soft roar of an engine had her eyes snapping away from the photo as she dropped her wallet and ducked down. The cop was back.