AN: Part 2. Kind of short, but the next one is extra long, so forgive me. :-) Not set any particular time, so imagine it wherever you feel like!

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Carla was just a barfly. She knew that, and accepted it. And yes, she'd heard all of the Cheers jokes. She wasn't actually much of a drinker, but after Jemmy died, the house was way too empty for her to spend her nights there. They'd never had any kids, and her friends tended to be her coworkers, not the hang out outside of work type.

So she worked 60 hours a week and rode a stool at Mulroney's most of the time she wasn't working. The locals didn't mind. She was quiet and didn't take up much space or cause any trouble. She didn't run a tab. She didn't run her mouth.

She was, in a word, invisible. She liked it that way. And the workers and other regulars respected that.

So when two guys came in asking questions about the weird deaths in the area, Carla was the last person who would ever talk to them. She hadn't even told the cops what she'd seen. Like they'd believe her anyway.

To Carla's shock, Bern behind the bar pointed her out to the strangers. She gave him a glare that communicated just what she thought of that betrayal and he shrugged sheepishly.

The men heading over were tall, handsome, and 15 years too young for Carla. She might have said 20 years, but they had old eyes.

"Carla, right?" said the green-eyed one. "Mind if we join you? I'm Dean and this is Sam."

Carla just shrugged, not inspired to be polite but not willing to be completely rude.

Dean smiled and Carla guessed that flirting came as easily to him as breathing. Too bad for him she didn't like strangers no matter how pretty they were. "Can we buy you a drink?"

"Nope." She had three drinks a night, and this one had to last another half hour.

The men shared a glance, then Sam said, "Carla, I have a feeling you know why we came over to talk to you."

Carla looked away from his earnest expression. She didn't get involved. Ever. All she wanted was her quiet life. Some people might consider her life pathetic, but it was hers and she wasn't about to mess with it.

"People are dying." Sam wasn't giving up. His voice was soft but insistent. "We're trying to figure out why. From what we hear, you might be able to give us some information to do that."

Carla was still determinedly looking away, but Dean caught her gaze in the mirror over the bar. "No matter what it is, we'll listen. And believe me, we'll figure out how to stop it."

Carla didn't ever get involved.

But there was something about these men...

She held Dean's gaze for a moment. Then she met Sam's eyes.

It was strange, but she believed them. She believed that they'd believe her about the strange, horrible thing she'd seen. And she believed they'd put a stop to it.

Carla remembered the faces of the people who had died. She thought about how she'd felt after Jemmy had died and about the possibility of preventing more deaths. She considered the compassion in Sam's voice and the determination on Dean's face.

And she began to talk.

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immertreu: So nice to "see" you! The Winchesters are the best kind of trouble!

Scealai: Just so many bunnies everywhere! :-)