May 3rd - May 7th, 2006

We were parked at a gas station, filling up and figuring out the best route to our next case. Sam had a map laid out on top of the car, I was out stretching my legs, and Dean had taken a phone call while filling the tank.

"Okay. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here. We might even make Pennsylvania faster than we thought," Sam said as he folded up the map so it would showcase the route he picked.

Dean lowered his phone. "Yeah." He walked around to get in the car. "Problem is, we're not going to Pennsylvania."

Sam looked up. "Wait... what?"

"I just got a call from an... uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing," Dean said.

Sam shook his head. "What?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called... never... if she didn't need us." He got in the Impala.

I followed behind, and we waited a moment for Sam to get in.

Dean started the car. "Come on, are you coming or not?"

Sam sighed and got in the car. Dean took off down the road, and I laid down to get some rest before we made it to our destination. I woke up about an hour later to Sam and Dean having a conversation.

"By old friend, you mean...?" Sam asked.

"A friend that's not new," Dean said, blankly.

"Oh yeah, thanks," Sam said, "So, her name's Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her—"

"Didn't I?" Dean asked.

I sat up quickly. "That's who we are going to help? Cassie?!"

Dean furrowed his brow at me in the rear-view mirror and then looked over at Sam, who was still waiting for an explanation.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, we went out."

"Dean, are you sure that—" I started, but Dean gave me a quick glare.

"You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?" Sam asked, shocked.

Dean looked over, annoyed. "Am I speaking a language you're not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "And...?"

Dean shrugged.

Sam sighed. "Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do." He shook his head. "Which, by the way, how does she know what we do?"

Dean didn't answer and just stared at the road.

"You told her. You told her the secret!" Sam shouted angrily. "Our big family rule number one. We do what we do, and we shut up about it. For a year and a half, I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times, and you tell her everything?"

Dean continued staring at the road.

"Dean!" Sam yelled.

Dean finally nodded. "Yeah. Looks like it." He never took his eyes off the road.

Sam sighed angrily, shook his head, and stared out of his window. I leaned against the door, so I could look out of my window.

I was not happy about going to see Cassie, the last time we were there, Dean left heartbroken, even though he wouldn't admit it. From what I could remember, she was a nice girl, but she had a strange hold on Dean. After we left Ohio last time, he was not his fun self for a few weeks.

A couple hours later, we pulled up in front of a big newspaper office building. We got out and walked in. Cassie had her back to us, she was talking to two older men. They finished their conversation and parted ways.

Cassie turned around, spotted Dean, and stared for a moment. "Dean." She walked closer to him, a longing look in her eyes.

"Hey, Cassie." Dean nodded.

They stared at each other for a long moment, it was easy to tell how much they cared for each other.

Dean cleared his throat. "This is my brother Sam." He nodded to Sam. "And you remember Maddison."

Cassie smiled at Sam and then smiled at me. I returned a smile of my own, and then she turned her attention back to Dean.

"Sorry, 'bout your dad," Dean said, solemnly.

Cassie nodded sadly. "Yeah. Me too."

Shortly after that, we followed Cassie to her house, she wanted to fill us in on what had happened in a more private location. We pulled up to a large house in the middle of a field. When we walked in, Cassie led us to the living room and brought a tray of teacups and a teapot from the kitchen.

Cassie set the tray on a table near the sitting area. "My mothers in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad."

"Why?" Dean asked.

Cassie poured tea into the cups. "He was scared. He was seeing things."

"Like what?" Dean asked.

Cassie sighed and walked over with the tray. "He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him."

"A truck. Who was the driver?" Sam asked.

Cassie shrugged. "He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big," She handed Sam a cup.

"Thanks. Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?" Sam asked.

Cassie handed Dean and me a cup and then sat down across from us with her own cup of tea. Dean looked at his cup like it was an alien, and quickly put it on the coffee table.

Cassie shook her head. "He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from Dad's car... leading right to the edge." Her voice cracked. "Where he went over." She put her head down and took a deep breath, trying to collect her emotions. "One set of tracks. His."

"The first was a friend of your fathers?" Dean asked.

Cassie nodded. "Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad. He 'lost control of his car.'"

"Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?" Dean asked.

Cassie shook her head. "No."

"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?" Sam asked.

Cassie looked up and sighed. "When you say it aloud like that... listen, I'm a little skeptical about this... ghost stuff... or whatever it is you guys are into."

Dean chuckled. "Skeptical? If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."

"That was then," Cassie said sadly.

They stared at each other.

Cassie sighed. "I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So, I called you."

The front door opened, and Cassie's mom walked in, we all stood up.

Cassie walked over to her. "Mom. Where have you been, I was so—"

"I had no idea you'd invited friends over." Mrs. Robinson looked at the three of us.

"Mom, this is Dean, a... friend of mine from... college." Cassie hesitated. "And his brother Sam and sister Maddison."

"Well, I won't interrupt you." Mrs. Robinson turned to leave.

"Mrs. Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?" Dean asked.

She was slightly taken aback. "I'm really not up for that right now." Then she turned and left the room, leaving us staring at each other.

"Uh, maybe it's best if you leave for now," Cassie said.

The next morning Dean got a phone call from Cassie saying that another man had been killed, the same way as her father. Dean woke us up, and we got ready and met Cassie at the site of the accident. We walked up to Cassie, who was talking to an older man.

"Close the main road?" he asked angrily. "The only road in and out of town? Accidents do happen, Cassie, and that's what they are. Accidents."

"Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car, see if it was pushed?" Dean asked.

"Who's this?" the old man asked.

"Dean, Sam, and Maddison Winchester. Family friends," Cassie said and then looked at us. "This is Mayor Harold Todd."

"There's one set of tire tracks. One... doesn't point to foul play." The Mayor shook his head.

Cassie sighed. "Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about..."

An angry expression crossed the mayor's face. "Indifferent?!"

"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" Cassie asked, bluntly.

The mayor furrowed his brow. "You suggesting I'm racist, Cassie? I'm the last person you should talk to like that."

"And why is that?" Cassie asked.

"Why don't you ask your mother," the mayor said and then left us standing, staring after him.

"We are gonna head into town and see if anyone else has seen this truck," Dean informed Cassie.

Cassie nodded. "I'm going to try and get more information here." She stared at Dean for a moment, and then we parted ways.

Back at the motel, Sam and Dean put on suits, they were going to act as insurance company agents and talk to a man named Ron about Jimmy.

Sam picked up his suit jacket. "I'll say this for her, she's fearless."

Dean fixed his tie in the mirror. "Mm-hmm."

"Bet she kicked your ass a coupla times." Sam smirked.

Dean glanced at him, but then looked back at the mirror.

"What's interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the same time. You look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away." Sam grinned. "It's just a... just an interesting observation in a... ya know... observationally interesting way."

Dean looked at Sam. "You think we might have more pressing issues here?"

Sam smirked. "Hey, if I'm hitting a nerve."

Dean groaned and turned away. "Let's go."

Sam looked at me and snickered. I rolled my eyes, and then we followed Dean out of the room to the Impala.

Dean parked near a dock, there were men fishing and sitting at tables. I, of course, had to stay in the car so I decided to read while I waited. I had already finished Harry Potter, but I started it over because it was so good, and I had nothing better to do.

When the boys returned, I put the book down and sat forward. "What did you find out?"

Sam sighed. "Apparently, in the '60s, there was a string of deaths. All black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck."

Dean started the car. "They never found the man who owned the truck."

"So, what does that mean? We're dealing with a racist spirit? Or do you think the person who killed those men came back to kill again?" I asked.

Dean pulled away and started driving. "I was thinking. You heard of the Flying Dutchman?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, a ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him."

"So, what if we're dealing with the same thing? Ya know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes," Dean suggested.

Sam sighed. "The victims have all been black men."

Dean shook his head. "I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family."

"All right. Well, you work that angle, go talk to her," Sam said.

"Yeah, I will." Dean nodded.

Sam smirked. "Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing."

"What other thing?" Dean asked, confused.

"The serious, unfinished business?" Sam said.

Dean was silent.

Sam laughed. "Dean, what is going on between you two?"

Dean sighed. "All right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said."

Sam smirked. "Oh... okay... yeah."

"Okay, a lot more... maybe. And I told her our secret about what we do. And I shouldn't have," Dean said.

"Look, man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime," Sam said, seriously.

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, I don't... it was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended."

Sam stared and smiled at Dean.

Dean looked over at Sam. "Would you stop!"

Sam kept smiling.

"Blink or something!" Dean yelled.

"You loved her." Sam smiled.

"Oh, god." Dean shook his head and turned his attention back to the road.

"You were in love with her, but you dumped her," Sam said.

Dean was silent, he looked at Sam, and then back on the road.

"Oh, wow." Sam realized. "She... dumped you."

Dean stayed silent and drove us back to the motel, then he left to meet Cassie at her house.

Sam got changed in the bathroom, and I got my pjs on. I curled up on the couch under some blankets and started reading. Sam walked over and took my book out of my hands.

"Hey, what're you doing?" I sat up and glared at him.

Sam laughed. "Don't give me that face. I have a surprise for you."

I perked up. "Really?"

Sam walked over to his bag and pulled something out of it but hid it behind his back. "Close your eyes."

I laughed. "What? Why?"

Sam smirked. "Just do it, Maddi."

"Okay, fine." I closed my eyes.

Sam walked over. "Put your hands out." He placed something in my hands. "Okay, open your eyes."

I opened my eyes, looked down, and saw a DVD case of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone sitting in my hands. I jumped up and hugged Sam. "Thank you! I'm so excited!" I pulled back and handed him the movie. "Start it up!" I smiled and then quickly sat on the couch and covered up with my blanket.

Sam laughed, started the movie, and joined me on the couch. After almost three hours, the credits started rolling.

"So?" Sam asked.

I put my head back. "That!" I slumped down the couch. "Was!" I dropped onto the floor. "So!" I jumped up. "Awesome!"

Sam laughed. "You liked it that much?"

I plopped down on the couch. "What... you didn't like it?"

Sam laughed. "No, I did. You're just funny."

I sighed. "I mean, like, did you see that troll? It was so big!" I put my hands up.

Sam nodded and laughed. "Yeah, I saw the troll."

"He was trying to get Harry with his club..." I stood up. "But then Ron was all like..." I picked up the remote and waved it like a wand. "Wingardium Leviosa! And then the troll was all like..." I dropped down onto the floor with my tongue hanging out, pretending to be passed out.

Sam laughed. "You're too much."

I stood back up and sat on the couch.

"So, I take it that was your favorite part?" Sam asked.

"No, my favorite part is when they are in the dining hall, and all that food appears." I smiled. "It all looked so yummy. Could you imagine if life was that easy?"

Sam put his head back and laughed hard.

"What's funny? Food is good," I said.

"You're mini Dean. I'm telling you, kid." Sam stood up and walked over to his bed, pulling back the covers.

"Aw, are we going to bed now? That was so much fun. Let's watch it again," I whined.

Sam smirked. "Maddison, it's almost 1AM. We should go to bed."

I groaned. "Fine." I laid back and covered myself with the blanket.

"Uh, Maddi. I think it's safe for you to sleep in Dean's bed," Sam said.

I sat up. "What? Why?"

Sam laughed. "I don't think he's coming back tonight."

I shrugged. "Oh, okay." I walked over to the bed, then realization hit me, and I looked up at Sam in disgust. "Oh."

Sam smirked and laid back on his bed.

I climbed into Dean's bed and covered myself up. "I had fun tonight. Thank you." I rolled over to look at Sam.

"You're welcome, I had fun too." Sam looked over at me. "All right, goodnight Maddi. Love you, kid." He turned off the lamp.

"Goodnight, Sammy. Love you too," I said and then closed my eyes.

Sam woke me up urgently the next morning, we had to rush to meet Dean because apparently, the mayor had been killed. When we got there, Sam got out to start talking to the police. Dean showed up a few minutes later. They both came back to the car shortly after that.

"So, where were you last night?" I asked Dean after he got into the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat. "Oh, ya know. Cassie and I were... just hanging out."

"Hmm, well, you missed out. Sam and I had a lot of fun last night," I teased.

Dean smiled. "Oh, yeah? What did you guys do?"

I smirked. "You don't get to know. You were too busy with your girlfriend."

"Okay, ha, ha. Very funny. You both going to drop the whole, me and Cassie thing now?" Dean asked, irritated.

"Oh, chill out. We all know you like her," I teased.

Dean furrowed his brow at me.

I sat forward and pinched his cheek. "Maybe you even love her," I sang.

Dean laughed. "Okay, okay. Stop."

Sam laughed.

I sat back down. "So, what did you find out?"

Sam sighed. "Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over."

Dean nodded. "Something like a truck, but there were no tracks." He looked at Sam. "What was the Mayor doing here, anyway?"

"He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago," Sam said.

"But he's white, he doesn't fit the pattern." Dean shook his head.

Sam shrugged. "Killings didn't happen up on the road. That doesn't fit either."

"Okay, so what's next?" I asked.

Dean looked at me. "Well, actually, I'm going with Cassie to her office to see what we can find out. I just wanted to check in with you before I left again."

"Oh, okay. Get out then so I can sit up front with my best buddy, Sammy." I smiled at him.

"Oh, that's how it's gonna be now?" Dean raised an eyebrow at me.

I got out of the car and opened the passenger door. "Come on, you're holding up the case." I smirked.

Dean laughed and got out. "Kicked outta my own car, huh?"

"Yup." I smiled at him and gave him a hug, then we went our separate ways.

Sam parked outside of the courthouse and came back out a few minutes later. He pulled out his phone when he got back and called Dean.

He put the phone on speaker. "Okay, the courthouse records show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family for, like, 150 years."

"Dorian?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"Didn't you say the Dorian family used to own this paper?" Dean asked Cassie.

"Along with everything else around here. Real pillars of the town," Cassie said.

"Right, right..." Dean said, "That's interesting."

"What?" Sam asked.

"This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of '63. The case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then," Dean explained.

"Well, I pulled a bunch of papers up on the Dorian place, it musta been in bad shape when the Mayor bought it," Sam said.

"Why's that?" Dean asked.

"The first thing he did was bulldoze the place," Sam said.

"Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?" Dean asked Cassie.

"It was a big deal. One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page," Cassie said.

"You got a date?" Dean asked.

"Uh... the third of last month." Sam nodded.

We could hear Dean clicking around on the computer. "Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the third. The first killing was the very next day."

Shortly after that, Sam and I went back to the motel. Dean met us there about an hour or so later, and by that point, it was dark out. Sam researched while I sat and watched Harry Potter again, and Dean joined me on the couch when he got back, which prompted me to start the movie over for him.

About a half-hour into the movie, he got a call. "Hey, Cass—" (...) "Okay, okay. We're coming." He quickly hung up. "Let's go, Cassie needs us," He got up, grabbed his jacket, and ran out the door.

Sam and I looked at each other, quickly got up, and ran out the door after him.

We arrived at Cassie's about ten minutes later, she opened the door and instantly hugged Dean. A few moments later, she led us into the living room where her mother was already sitting. Sam and I sat on one of the couch's, Cassie sat on the other, and Dean sat next to her with his arm protectively around her. Cassie informed us that a huge black truck was revving its engine and driving aggressively toward the house, she became shaky, so Sam got up and fixed her a cup of tea.

Cassie took the cup with shaky hands. "Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in this."

Sam sat down. "You didn't see who was driving the truck?"

Cassie shook her head. "It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone... why didn't it kill us?"

"Whatever is controlling the truck wants you afraid first," Dean said.

Sam turned his attention to Cassie's mother. "Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died."

She just sat there, staring at Sam, but saying nothing.

"Mom?" Cassie asked.

Mrs. Robinson jumped. "Oh... Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing."

Dean nodded. "Well, after tonight, I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight... you and Cassie are marked. Okay? Your daughter could die. So, if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it," he said very seriously.

"Dean," Cassie said, trying to stop him.

"Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck." Mrs. Robinson nodded.

Sam perked up. "Did he know who it belonged to?"

She sighed. "He thought he did."

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

"Cyrus." Mrs. Robinson choked up. "A man named Cyrus."

Dean pulled a newspaper article he had printed out of his bag and showed her. "Is this Cyrus?"

She looked at the article and then quickly turned away. "Cyrus Dorian died more than forty years ago."

"How do you know he died, Mrs. Robinson? The paper said he went missing. How do you know he died?" Dean asked softly.

"We were all very young..." She sighed. "I dated Cyrus a while. I was also seeing Martin... in secret, of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin... I don't know. He... changed. His hatred... His hatred was frightening."

"The string of murders," Sam said.

Mrs. Robinson shook her head. "There were rumors, people of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done." Her lip quivered, and she sighed. "Martin and... Martin and I, we were gonna be married in that little church near here, but last minute, we decided to elope 'cause we didn't want all the attention."

"And Cyrus?" Dean asked.

Mrs. Robinson started to cry softly. "The day we set for the wedding was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died."

"Did the attacks stop after that?" Sam asked softly.

She cried harder now and shook her head. "No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible, but Martin... you see, Martin got loose, and he started hitting Cyrus, and he just kept hitting him and hitting him."

Dean shook his head. "Why didn't you call the cops?"

"This was forty years ago." She cried.

Dean looked down with sad eyes, understanding the situation now.

Mrs. Robinson continued. "He called on his friends... Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson... and they put Cyrus's body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land, and all three of them kept that secret all of these years."

Sam sighed. "And now all three are gone."

"And so is Mayor Todd," Dean said, "Now, he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?"

Mrs. Robinson took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. "He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then, investigating Cyrus's disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done, he— he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done."

Cassie shook her head with tears in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Mrs. Robinson began crying again. "I thought I was protecting them... and now there's no one left to protect."

"Yes, there is." Dean looked at Cassie.

Mrs. Robinson reached her hand out to Cassie, who took it as a tear rolled down her cheek.

We left the house and stood outside of the car. The boys wanted to discuss what we should do in private, so Cassie and her mother could calm down a little bit.

Sam sighed. "Ahh, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms."

Dean smirked. "So, I guess I saved you from a boring existence."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, occasionally I miss boring."

Dean sighed. "So, this killer truck—"

Sam smirked. "I miss conversations that didn't start with, 'this killer truck.'"

Dean laughed a little. "All right, well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years."

"So, what woke it up?" Sam asked.

"The construction on his house. Or the destruction," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless."

Dean nodded. "Mm-hmm."

"Like that theater in Illinois, ya know?" Sam suggested.

Dean nodded. "Yeah... and the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus's murder quiet and unsolved."

"So, now his spirit is awakened and out for blood," Sam said.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway."

"You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?" Sam asked.

Dean smiled at Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Man."

Dean smirked. "You said it."

Sam smiled and nodded. "Yeah."

Cassie walked up to us from the house.

Dean turned to her. "Hey."

Cassie nodded. "Hey. She's asleep... now what?"

"Well, you should stay put and look after her... and we'll be back. Don't leave the house," Dean said.

Cassie smiled. "Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it."

Sam looked at me and chuckled.

Dean glanced back at us and then turned his attention back to Cassie. "Don't leave the house... please?"

Cassie smiled, and then Dean leaned in and gave her a kiss. Which slowly turned into a make-out session. I gave Sam big eyes, and he cleared his throat loudly for them to stop. Dean kept kissing Cassie and held one finger out to us to wait.

Dean pulled away and turned to us. "You comin' or what?" Then he got in the car.

When we got to Cyrus's land, Sam and Dean hot-wired one of the tractors that had been used for the deconstruction. Sam drove the Impala to the swamp while Dean drove the tractor over. They found the location where the truck was pushed in and successfully hooked it to the tractor. At that point, it was muddy, lightly snowing, and about 2AM.

"All right. Let's get her up," Sam said as Dean used the tractor to pull the truck out of the water. "All right. A little more... little more." Sam directed. "All right, stop."

Dean turned off the engine and jumped down from the tractor.

Sam ran over. "Nice."

"Hell yeah," Dean said as he walked over to the Impala.

"Now I know what she sees in you," Sam said.

Dean opened the trunk and rummaged through it. "What?"

"Come on, man, you can admit it. You're still in love with her," Sam said.

"Uh, can we focus please." Dean sighed.

Sam shrugged. "I'm just saying, Dean."

Dean handed something to Sam. "Hold that." Then he spotted me. "Maddi, get in the car. You're shivering."

I shrugged and uncrossed my arms, trying to prove I wasn't cold. "I'm fine."

"Maddison. Car. Now." Dean pointed.

"Yes, sir." I saluted him and got into the car, but kept the door open with my legs hanging out so I could still see what was going on.

"All right. What am I getting?" Sam asked.

"Gas. Flashlight," Dean listed.

"Got it. Got it," Sam said.

"Okay, let's get this done," Dean said.

Sam nodded. "All right."

"Got it," Dean said and closed the trunk of the Impala.

They walked over to the truck, opened the door, and a decaying body fell out onto the ground. They both backed away, covering their mouths and noses with their elbows for a moment before picking up the body and carrying it away from the truck. They placed it down on the ground a few feet away.

"All right, let's get to it," Dean said.

Dean poured salt on the body while Sam poured gasoline.

Sam lit a match and threw it on the body, which caught fire instantly. "Think that'll do it?"

Suddenly the truck appeared in the field in front of us, revving its engine and flashing its lights. I sat there, frozen, not knowing what we were going to do if it charged at as.

"I guess not." Dean shook his head.

"So, burning the body had no effect on that thing?" Sam asked panicked.

"Sure it did. Now it's really pissed," Dean said.

"But Cyrus's ghost is gone, right, Dean?" Sam asked.

"Apparently not the part that's fused with the truck," Dean said as he walked over to the Impala.

"Where you going?" Sam asked with his arms out.

"Goin' for a little ride." Dean opened the door and looked at me. "Outta the car, stay with Sammy."

I quickly got out and ran over to Sam.

"What?!" Sam asked.

"Gonna lead that thing away." Dean nodded to the truck. "That busted piece of crap, you gotta burn it."

"How the hell am I supposed to burn a truck, Dean?" Sam asked, frustrated.

"I don't know. Figure something out." Dean shrugged and tossed a bag to Sam.

Sam caught the bag. "Figure some— something..."

Dean got in the Impala, reversed, and then took off. Sam and I ducked down until the ghost truck passed by us, chasing after Dean. Sam pulled Dad's journal out of the bag and quickly flipped through it, trying to find anything helpful.

A couple minutes later, Sam's phone rang. He answered it, "Hey, you gotta give me a minute." (...) "Uh. Let me get back to you." Then he hung up.

"Sam hear me out," I said.

"Yeah." Sam nodded while still reading through the journal.

"Do you remember Constance Welch and how she was afraid to go back home?" I asked.

Sam looked up at me and nodded. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "She was scared to go back 'cause she killed her kids and then when she did go back, they—"

Sam gasped. "Yes, Maddison. Good thinking." He quickly dialed a number into his phone. "Hey, Cassie? Hey, it's Sam, I need some information, and it has to be exactly right." (...) "Where was the church that Cyrus burnt down?" (...) He pulled out a pen and a map, he started pacing as he waited for Cassie to get the information. Once she did, he quickly marked the church on the map.

He had me hold it while he pointed his flashlight at it and called Dean. "All right, Dean?" (...) "Where are you?" (...) "Listen to me, this is important. I have to know exactly where you are." (...) "Okay. Headed East?" (...) "Okay, uh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right." (...) "You make the turn?" (...) "All right, you see a road up ahead?" (...) "Okay, turn left." (...) "You need to go seven-tenths of a mile and then stop." (...) "Exactly seven-tenths, Dean." (...) He lowered the flashlight and waited for Dean to respond.

"Is he okay?" I asked, worried as I lowered the map. "Can you hear anything?"

"Dean, you still there?" he asked. (...) "What's happening?" (...) "Just what you are doing, bringing it to you." (...) "Dean wha—" He stopped to listen.

After a few moments of nothing, I started to panic, I tugged Sam's shirt and looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"Dean. You still there? Dean?" Sam asked. (...) "Dean, you're where the church was." (...) "The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids." (...) "Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it." (...) "Huh. Honestly, that thought hadn't occurred to me." He pulled the phone away, looked at it, and shrugged. "Musta hung up."

I finally exhaled with relief that it was over and hugged Sam, he hugged me and my rubbed my back, trying to keep me warm while we waited for Dean. A few minutes later he pulled up, I quickly ran over and jumped in the car because I was freezing. Sam got in, and Dean pulled away, I sat on my hands, trying to warm them up.

Dean looked at me in the rear-view mirror. "You all right?"

"Yeah?" I asked, confused.

"Your teeth are chattering," he said.

"Oh, I didn't even notice." I shrugged.

"Here." Sam took off his jacket and handed it back to me.

"Thanks." I put it on, I was basically swimming in it, but it was warm, so I pulled my knees up and curled up in it.

It was now very early in the morning, the sun was rising, but I hadn't gotten any sleep since the night before, I felt my eyes grow heavy as I warmed up and eventually everything went dark.

When I woke up, the Impala was parked next to the docks, Sam was in the driver's seat, and Dean was nowhere to be found.

I sat up. "Where's Dean?"

Sam nodded and pointed to the right of the car. I looked out and saw Dean and Cassie making out. I made a grossed-out face, not really wanting to watch my big brother doing that. I sat back and waited for him to come back to the car.

A few moments later, he opened the door and got in. Sam and I waved and smiled at Cassie, who reciprocated our goodbye, then Sam drove away.

It was silent for a while, and then Sam spoke up, "I like her."

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"You meet someone like her, doesn't it make you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at Sam for a long moment, then smiled and pulled sunglasses out of the glove compartment, which he then slipped on. "Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?" Then he slouched down in the seat with a sigh.

Sam shook his head and then looked back at me, I smiled and then curled back up and fell asleep too.