A/N: Sorry for the delay. On the plus side, this chapter is extra long. I do not own SPN. Also, thank you, thank you for the follows and favorites!

Sam and Dean decided not to wear their suits to the dinner but did bring their badges just in case. Dean found some parking a little way away, and he and Sam walked up to her apartment. Sam knocked, and an older woman in her 70's answered the door. Her salon-colored hair was a dusty blond and she had a touch of makeup on. She wore fitted jeans with a plain shirt and a fall sweater over it. Her bright blue eyes beamed up at the agents through her glasses as she gave them a big smile. "Well hello! Come in, agents! I'm just getting dinner finished up." The wonderful smells from the kitchen made Dean's stomach rumble. She laughed. "Looks like someone is ready for dinner." Sam and Dean made their way into her small apartment, and saw the pictures scattered across the wall. Dean couldn't help but notice that there were a LOT of kids and grownups that he assumed were her kids and grandkids. He counted at least 20 different faces.

"How many kids do you have exactly?" he asked her, looking intently at what seemed like the most recent family portrait.

"There's 7 of us, dude." Dean hadn't noticed the red-headed man sitting with the reception lady they'd met at the hotel. The man offered up his hand. "Luke Van Der Puy," he said, his light red hair hanging to his shoulders.

"So that's how you pronounce your last name," Dean remarked, shaking Luke's hand. He couldn't help but notice that his eyes matched his mother's.

"Yeah; like buy but with a 'p'. So you're feds, huh?" Luke asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah; they figured since there were so many murders that occurred so close together and near the same location, that it warranted further investigation by us. Y'know, get more eyes on the info and see if we can figure out who the monster is." Dean gave him a glance. Monster? That's what Sam went with? Dean continued to look through the photos.

"Once we saw that your mom had submitted 3 reports, we figured it was best to see if maybe she could provide us with just a little bit more information."

Luke side-eyed Sam. "You know, she's had kind of a rough time dealing with that. So I'd appreciate it if you get through whatever questions you have sooner rather than later," he mentioned, trying to sound neutral but Sam could hear an edge to it.

"Luke, babe, they are professionals. I'm sure it'll be fine," Emily said to him. She gave Sam a sympathetic look. "We've been trying to make sure she's okay after the last body she found."

"Of course," Sam replied. He gave a thin-lipped smile back. "So, where do you fall in the family lineup?"

"I'm the youngest," he answered. "Not that it matters to you," he muttered under his breath. Emily elbowed him.

"Babe, stop that." She rolled her eyes and faced Sam. "He's the only one that's available to help her right now. Everyone else is gone, with families of their own except Zach. But he's always traveling, so." She shrugged. Luke took a drink from his beer, eyeing the two men apprehensively.

"Okay, everyone! Dinner's ready," Mary announced, beaming as the small round table was set. "I haven't cooked too much lately, since it's just me now, so I hope this is sufficient." She had made smothered pork chops with rice, vegetables, and dinner rolls from the store. Dean was happily eating his dinner while Sam was taking his time. Luke just stared at them, making Sam uncomfortable. Emily caught Luke's eye and started telling him about her day. He gave up his staring contest with the Winchesters to focus on his wife.

"Mary," Dean said with a mouthful of food, "this is amazing." He swallowed, then added. "Our mom's name was Mary," he slipped. She beamed, but then realized he'd said 'was'.

"Oh… I-I'm so sorry about your mother," she said, her heart a little torn. It caught both Winchesters unaware. Dean didn't know why he even mentioned their mom. He never talked about her. "Was it recently?" she asked.

Dean clammed up, focusing instead on his food. "She—she died when I was six months old. Dean was four," Sam mumbled. He shoved a piece of porkchop in his mouth, trying to avoid talking about it.

"Oh my—that must have been hard," she said, putting her hand on Dean's. Dean stilled at the touch. She saw his reaction and took her hand off his. Their eyes met. "I'm sorry, I just—" She looked at Luke, then at her other pictures, tears welling up. "I can't imagine how hard that must have been on you." Luke was actively looking away, trying his hardest not to look his mother in the eye. "Well, your dad had you though—"

"Sure did," Dean said with a hint of anger in it. "Former Marine with two boys to raise by himself." He stopped himself before he kept going. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, it's just—well, they're both gone now," he told Mary. Sam just sat back, wondering why they were telling her anything about their family at all.

"Don't be sorry; everyone needs to talk sometimes. Both of my parents were gone within 4 months of each other. My mother passed when I was barely into my 40's. It hurts still. I get it." She was now holding Dean's hand in both of hers. "I have a daughter who was in the military, and currently a son-in-law. It is scary not knowing if I'll be getting a call about them." Her ocean blue eyes held an understanding Dean didn't recognize. Was this how a mom always felt? Was this how his mom felt? He'd never know. Not really. Dean had stopped eating during her talk. He nodded numbly, giving her hand a squeeze back.

"Thanks," Dean managed to get out. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat, trying to get back into his Hunter headspace. He ate a little slower this time, trying to enjoy the meal a little more. It was really good.

"And don't be mad, but I did make a pie—"

"Pie!" Dean exclaimed. He looked around, spotting the pie on the rack by the stove. "I love pie," he replied, eyeing it.

She laughed; a loud, bubbly laugh that made everyone instantly smile. "Well, I hope you like pumpkin pie; it's one of my most requested. My daughter even asked for it for her birthday one year," she laughed. "Can you believe that?"

Dean grinned at that. "Smart girl, that one."

By then, everyone had finished their dinners. Mary started to get up to clear the dishes, but Dean insisted that he and Sam could help her. He grabbed the plates while Sam collected the cups and silverware. He brought them to her small sink and started rinsing them off. Now he could properly smell the pie. He kept looking over at it as he was rinsing the dinner dishes. Mary had gotten up and was beginning to slice the pie into equal pieces. She had grabbed some paper plates to dish them on, and plastic forks as well.

"So, Mary—the reason we really came was to talk about the YMCA murders," Sam began. Her hand almost dropped a piece of pie on the floor, but Luke rescued it before it hit. She took a breath to calm herself. "I know you've been through a lot right now; we just need to ask you a few more questions and we're done. Promise." Sam looked down at her, and she nodded her agreement. He looked at Emily and gestured to the pie. Emily started getting dessert ready. He gently took Mary's arm and led her back to the table. They sat next to each other. Sam leaned down, his elbows on his knees. "You can tell me anything; I promise that even if you think it sounds minor, it's not. If it sounds crazy, please bring it up. Now you mentioned your phone was acting up when you were around the shipwreck at the park," he said. "Can you tell me exactly how?"

"I couldn't get into at all. And the background was all messed up."

"Glitchy?"

"Yeah, glitchy. I was trying to call one of my friends who usually walks with me and couldn't do it at all." Her eyes caught Luke's. "It—it ended up being the second person that had died near the shipwreck," she choked out. She closed her eyes, trying not to let more tears slip out. She wiped at her tears, opening her eyes. Her voice wavered. "It was Gwen McCoy. I—I decided to check around the ship, and… when I looked inside, it looked as if there were 2 people in there, not just my friend. And then—and then the man disappeared. And she was covered in water." She shut her eyes again. Sam rubbed her arm a bit. He didn't blame her. Watching a friend die was hard.

"Hey—hey, Mary," he said softly, lifting her head. "It's okay to cry. Your friend died." She was the one that nodded this time. "Did you see anything else about the man that your friend was with before he disappeared?"

"He—he was wet, like really wet." She sniffed, trying to recall what she'd seen. "It made no sense. The shipwreck isn't anywhere near the lake." Sam nodded his head, clenching his jaw slightly. "He… he was trying to reach for something. On—on the right side of the ship… when seen from the street." She fell quiet, a tear splashing on the back of her hand. She continued. "And it was really cold. At least 5… maybe 10 degrees colder than—than what they said it was supposed to be."

Sam looked at Dean, who had been listening intently to their conversation. Their grim expressions peaked Luke's curiosity.

"The police department told my mom to see a therapist. That she was seeing things that hadn't happened. Now you're telling me that she actually saw those things?" he queried the men.

"We can't discuss the details about the case with you," Dean replied. Sam agreed with Dean. "What we can do, is test out a theory or two and hope that it will be enough to get rid of the murderer, whoever it is." Luke pondered those words for a moment, his face a mix of emotions.

"Do you need to ask her for anything else?" he said, his fists clenched at his side.

"Just 2 more questions," Sam promised. He redirected his gaze at Mary, who was dabbing her final tears away with a tissue. "Mary, did this happen with the other two people you found?"

"One, yes. The other, no. I found the last one just after—after it had happened." She sat a little straighter up, working on being more put together. "The other one I managed to see, it was the same man from the first time, soaking wet and standing there yelling. It was—something about a Billy and August, a storm coming—" She strained to remember more from the nonsense the man had been shouting. "They should wait until the storm passed? I can't really remember much more than that." Mary was tapping her fingers on the table, her nerves on edge at the memory. "He was so angry," she added. "They weren't listening… he pointed to the—left side of the ship first, then… then to the right, like the first time." She buried her face in her hands. "I can't remember any more."

"I have one final question: around what time did these take place?"

"—I—It was around 5 in the morning. Are we done now?" she asked Sam.

He smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah, we're done, Mary. Thank you for all your help. That was the kind of information we were looking for." He tried to lighten the mood a little. "Hey, how about we start on that pie of yours?" She smiled at that and got up to find Dean had already started on a piece. His mouth was stuffed with it, making him look like a chipmunk. She laughed really hard. After the pie, Luke and Emily left, but not before Luke took Dean aside.

"That—thing. Whatever it is, you're going to destroy it?" Dean gave him a curt nod. Luke, the same height as Dean, looked him squarely in the eye. "Kill that fucker. My mom doesn't deserve to live like this." With that, he and Emily left, his wife waving goodbye to the Winchesters.

Dean had to agree with Luke. He looked back at Mary, who was sharing stories about her kids with Sam. They were laughing. He'd forgotten Sam's laugh. It was nice to hear it. He looked at his watch. It read 8 p.m. He hated to break up their conversation, but if they were going to get this bastard, they were going to need sleep. He walked over just as Mary was telling Sam about what had happened to her husband. "—and at that point, I couldn't be there anymore. I had to leave."

"You did exactly the right thing. If you'd like, I could try and find a lawyer—"

"Oh, my daughter is a paralegal," Mary cut in. "I—I just don't know if I can bring myself to divorce him." She fell silent after that. Dean figured now was the best time to go.

"Hey, Sammy; I think we need to get going. We are going to need some sleep and time to figure things out." Sam got up, grabbing his coat. "Mary, again, thank you so much for dinner… and the pie."

"Y'know, there's still a piece left if you want to take it with you," she teased him.

"Well, I mean—if you insist, I'm not going to say no." She had already wrapped it up for him. "You are the best," he replied, side-hugging the 5 foot 7 elderly woman. She pulled him into a full hug.

"We should grab coffee before you and your brother leave," she told him.

"I'll—consider it." He smiled at her, bidding her goodbye. As he and Sam walked back to the car, they couldn't help but think that there was something about Mary that defied explanation. And now they had more information than ever to help them with the case.