Daybreak came sooner than expected. I slowly began to open my eyes, taking in my surroundings. I noticed an arm wrapped around me and my hand intertwined with Sam's.

I wonder how long we were in this position, and I'm surprised that we managed to stay this long like this without waking the other up.

I turned to Sam, who was laying on his back and his face was in my direction. I smiled and moved a bit so I was also facing him. I laid my head on his bare shoulder, wrapping one arm around his chest. His one arm wrapped around me began to adjust himself, and I got nervous that he was waking up, but once he shifted, the movement stopped. I took my finger and began tracing his face, enjoying ever beautiful feature that he had.

I leaned in closer, my eyes growing a bit heavy as I began to fall a bit back to sleep. I was in such a bliss that I didn't even want to get up. I wanted to stay here with Sam forever.

I heard Sam groan a bit which kept me from going back to sleep. I looked up at him to see that he was starting to wake up as well. He shifted his body a bit before looking down at me, giving me a tired smile.

"Morning."

"Morning to you too," I said.

Sam pushed away some of my hair and gave me a kiss on the forehead. "Have you been awake for very long?"

"Nope. I actually was just waking up a bit before you did."

"Good," he said, "I was worried that I interrupted your sleep."

Sam reached over to his nightstand to grab his cell phone.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Making sure we don't have any missed calls from Dean. We've been passed out for a bit, it feels like."

I giggled and nodded. "Yeah, I definitely feel a lot more rested than usual. The day off was VERY much needed."

"Well, good news is no missed calls or texts," Sam said as he put his phone back on his nightstand. He shifted again and wrapped both his arms around me, pulling me close.

"Means more time to just settle here."

I smiled and buried my face in his neck. Little moments like this just felt amazing. I felt safe, secure, and vulnerable in the best way possible.

"If you're up for another round though..." Sam said in a joking tone.

I shook my head. "You exhausted me last night. I think I'm good for the next few days..."

"Wow...I was that good, huh?"

"Shut it. Now you're starting to sound like Dean."

We both chuckled and looked at each other. He continued to smile as he stared, like he was trying to take a photographic memory of this moment. I felt myself blush a bit and laid my head back on his chest. We laid there in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, but then I remembered something that Sam said before we went to sleep that had me a little concerned.

"Sam?"

"Hm?"

"Last night...when you were asking about the white picket fence life and everything...I known you asked me about it a few times. I'm just wondering...why did you bring it up again? Has something been bothering you?"

I looked up at him, propping myself up with one arm so as to not strain my neck. He looked downwards, thinking about his next words carefully.

"I guess...I'm just worried. I keep thinking about what you said the night you told me you loved me, about how I'm scared to let anyone back into my life because of what happened...and yes, you were right. Now that we're here, though, I just keep thinking, 'What if this is too good to be true?'"

"You're worried about the yellow eyed demon getting to me, still?" I asked.

"Not exactly," he said, "I'm more worried that you would want to...leave all this behind and wind up leaving me...I'm sorry it's stupid but..."

"Listen to me," I interrupted, "No fear or worry you have is stupid. Can I ask, though, if what I said when I finally told you made you have these doubts, or is it something else?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing, really. I just feel like whenever you tell me that you're okay with this, the little voice of doubt just crosses my mind and...I don't know why."

"It's because you've been through so much trauma, Sam," I said, "Your mind is making you believe that every good thing you come across is temporary in some way. I went through that when I first lost Mom and Dad, which is why I never attached myself to someone the first two years. I was scared and felt I didn't deserve shit because I kept thinking that it was my fault my parents were killed. When I started to learn more about my family's past and where I came from, though, I just knew that they would want me to keep trying, to let myself be happy, even if it is temporary, and that what happened...was never my fault. Sure, there are moments where I am thinking what you're thinking right now, but I'm doing my hardest to not let it get to me."

I took Sam's free hand and intertwined it with mine. "When I said I was in it for the long haul, I meant it. I will continue to mean it as long as you want me around. I'll keep telling you this as many times as you need me to. As for me...well, your words of affirmation always help."

Sam smiled a bit and began to rub his thumb across my knuckles. He used his other arm to pull me closer so my head was resting on his shoulder once more.

"If you do anything to hurt me, though, I will not hesitate to kick your ass," I warned.

He chuckled. "I think we all know better than to piss you off, that's for sure."

I laughed as well, feeling Sam's body go from tense to relaxed. I felt bad there wasn't more that I could do for him. If given the chance, I would crush ever single doubt in his mind about me, but I know that it's not simple.

It did hurt that he was having so much self doubt and worry that I was going to walk away from all of this, but it wasn't him thinking that. All the trauma he went through was causing him to bully himself, and I know Dean had similar feelings as I've caught him numerous times beating himself up over something that wasn't in his control.

They both were good men, but they weren't good to themselves.

Sam and I rested a while longer, his arms still wrapped around me and stroking my head. Suddenly, Sam's phone rang, and he shifted to go pick it up. He looked at the caller ID and showed it to me.

Dean.

He opened up his phone and hit another button. "Hey, man. You're on speaker. Sarah's next to me."

"So, how was the honeymoon suite you two? How much of a mess will housekeeping need to clean up?" Dean said in a teasing tone

"Shut it, Dean," I said, my face feeling warm with embarrassment.

"What? If it's a mess, that means you two had a good time! Nothing wrong with that!"

"You're lucky I'm not there right now, or I'd smack the shit out of you," I said.

"Woah, easy there tiger. I'm not just here to be a dick. I actually have something for us."

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Picked up a potential lead, located in New Orleans," Dean said, "I stopped into a bar after dropping Sarah off, and there were a lot of demon hunters gathering at this place. There was talk about some activity that may seem like our thing."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Meet me back at our motel. I'll explain everything there while we pack up."

"Okay, see you in a few," Sam said, hanging up the phone.

We both got out of bed and got changed in our spare clothes Sam bought over while I was hanging out with Dean yesterday.

"Can you check out and I'll pick up something at the store downstairs for us to eat on our way back?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, "There's a bus that actually has a stop not too far from the motel so we can hop on that and not have to worry about hitchhiking back or stealing a car."

"Perfect."

Getting the last of my clothing on and picking up some of my stuff, Sam and I headed to the elevator hand in hand.

"So, New Orleans? I wonder what's going on there," I said.

"Beats me," Sam shrugged.

"So much goes on there already, plus it's a REALLY old city. If it's getting this much talk among the hunters, though, this can't be good."

"It may be nothing, though. Some things are just that; rumors."

We stepped into the elevator, hitting the button to the first floor.

"Well...there's only one way to find out," I said.

When we arrived back at the motel we've been staying at, Dean was already there packing his stuff up. I noticed that he was in his FBI suit, which could only mean that this case was very highly possible that it was for us.

"Oh, good. You lovebirds are back," Dean said.

Seriously, Dean? Lose the nicknames already.

"Yeah sorry about the wait," Sam said, "We took the bus back here. Didn't feature going grand theft auto."

"Just get into your suits quickly. We're leaving as soon as possible."

I walked over to my drawers and took out my dress suit while Sam got his as well.

"So what's the scoop, Dean?" I asked.

"Well, there has been three murders in New Orleans," he said, "However, the bodies of each victim are, for one reason or another, being found on porches or the front yard of some houses."

"Is there a specific pattern?" Sam asked.

"No, at least nothing yet. That's not what peaked my interest, though. Last night in that city, a woman was attacked outside a restaurant after getting off her shift. When she walked out, she heard the sound of jazz music playing."

"But Jazz music is very common in New Orleans," I said.

"Yeah but the way she described it...she said she fell into a trance, wanting to find out where the music was coming from. She followed it to a back alley where she blacked out."

"Okay, now that sounds more like our thing," I said, "Any other details?"

"Not at the moment," Dean said, "That is if she's willing to talk to us."

I got the last of my suit on as did Sam. Thankfully, I didn't have to pack a whole lot because I usually on take out of my bag what is needed while everything else stays in the bag in case we need to leave immediately. We went out to the Impala and put our things in the trunk, Dean grabbing our fake FBI badges and handing it to us.

I groaned when I opened mine up.

"Agent Jett? Really Dean?"

"What? I thought you liked Joan Jett!" he said.

"I do...but you think maybe questions will be asked if authorities put two and two together?"

"Got any better last names, kid?"

All I could do was roll my eyes and get in the back seat. Sam stayed in the passenger seat to help Dean navigate.

I looked through John's journal to see if anything matching the descriptions we have of the murders could be already written down. "Hey Dean, the bar...did they say what the bodies looked like at the locations?"

"The most I got was they looked like they were hit by some kind of axe or something similar," he said, "Why? You got any ideas yet?"

"I was going to suggest something like a siren or a mermaid...luring people in with music? I don't think that's possible, though. If they died from a blunt object or something like an axe as you said...I just think that sirens would kill by making the victims look like they drowned, not go all Friday The 13th on them."

"Maybe. Any other ideas?"

"The only other one I have is some kind of ghost or vengeful spirit...it wouldn't be that far fetched considering how old New Orleans is."

I closed up John's journal and handed it back to Sam. "Maybe we should try to find the restaurant first? I can try to sense what we're up against."

"You can do that?" Sam asked.

"Yes, depending on how long the spirit was there and how powerful it is. Maybe then we can see the homes where the bodies were dropped off and see if I can pick up a trail."

"See if there's a connection?" Dean asked.

"I mean...these bodies and the way they're being disposed, there's gotta be a pattern."

"Well, if there's a possible trail, you need to trace it before time runs out," Dean said.

"So what should we do?" Sam asked.

"We could drop you off at the hospital, Sam, so you can question the survivor," I said, "Dean will drive me around and I'll see if I can pick up anything. Since we both have our FBI suits, if anyone is nearby, we can question them. Maybe we'll run into some witnesses and get an idea on what's going or learn about some local legends that may help us know what's going on."

Sam looked over at Dean, who just shrugged in response. "Guess she doesn't trust me with the patient..." Dean said.

"No offense, Dean, but when it comes to talking to people, you...get a little intense," I said with a little smirk, "Plus, aren't you the one who's worried about Sam and I banging in the Impala?"

Sam tried to stifle a laugh while Dean glared at him.

"You realize the more you say it, the more I become convinced you're actually going to corrupt Baby," he said.

"The only one who's thinking that is you, big bro," I said, "I'm only just stirring the pot."

New Orleans, Louisiana*

Once we dropped off Sam at the hospital, Dean and I drove to the restaurant where the woman was attacked. Thankfully it wasn't that far of a drive, but it was near a tourist populated area, so there was a good chance that people would be blocking the area.

"Thank God we're not doing this during Mardi Gras, or this place would be a zoo," I said.

"I'll take it if it means I get to check some babes out," Dean said.

I scoffed. "I swear, you're just as bad as a teenager who went through puberty and discovered girls for the first time."

"I haven't had a good lay in a while. Cut me some slack."

"Nope. Never."

I couldn't help but let out a little giggle, and looking over at Dean, I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh as well.

He loves it when I make fun of him once in a while. He just doesn't want to admit it.

"Anyways," he said, "You mentioned that you could possibly track whatever this thing is, but that it may be on a time limit. How does that work exactly?"

"Depending on the power of the spirit or monster, they tend to leave some of their energy onto a place or an item. Think of it like when someone tracks mud in a certain area; the footprint stays there for a certain amount of time until something makes it disappear, like rain or a different individual cleaning it up."

"Do you know what causes it?"

"No, unfortunately, but my theory is that some spirits or monsters have an energy not like ours. You see, when it comes to the energy of another human, I can only sense them if they are present in a room. Once they leave, they take the energy with them. For example, I can feel your energy presence right now, but if you were to leave the Impala to go somewhere else, the energy would follow you and no trace of it would be found here. Some entities have that as well, but others leave some trace of them wherever they go."

"You think the traces of whatever this is may be at the houses, too?"

"Maybe, if this is a vengeful spirit we're dealing with. Remember that we don't exactly know what we're up against."

We eventually reached the restaurant, where some cops were still hanging out, blocking out a certain area. Dean and I got out of the car, approaching the cops.

"Sir, ma'am, this area is blocked off to the public," the officer said.

Dean and I pulled out our badges. "Special Agent Jovi. This is my colleague, Special Agent Jett. We were called into the area to see what was going on."

"Huh," the officer said, "I just called the FBI not too long ago. Wonder how the two of you got here so quickly."

"We were in the area anyways when our boss called," I said, "Plus, we've been keeping an eye on the case to see if we needed to step in, so...let's just say he was expecting your team to finally ask for help."

The officer just scoffed and shook his head. "Well, unfortunately, there isn't a whole lot to go on when it comes to this. We got dead bodies showing up on random porches, people being attacked like this girl...I mean, it feels like we're just scratching the surface and getting nothing."

"Well, that's why we're here," Dean said, "Mind if my partner and I take a look where the woman was attacked?"

"Sure," the officer said, "Though I don't think you would find much. We've been searching the area almost all day and night."

"Well, special agent Jett can usually spot a few things no other agent can pick up. She may be able to find something."

The officer just nodded, pulling up the crime scene tape to let us in. The area was a back alleyway, perfect place to corner someone.

"Show me exactly where the woman was attacked," I said.

He nodded and pointed me to what looked to be a corner. I turned to Dean, telling him to wait there for a second so I can, "concentrate."

I approached the corner and looked down, pretending that I was looking for something. Opening up my mind, I felt the traces of the spirit, and it was strong. There were hints of anger and hatred, meaning that this was a vengeful spirit. I knew it wasn't a demon because demons have specific energy patterns, and I can't pick up the emotions of a demon like I can with spirits and humans.

I looked down at the floor, behind the potted plants, seeing if I can actually find something that would be useful for the cops. When I didn't find anything, I approached Dean and the officer, shaking my head.

"I couldn't find anything," I said, "Sorry that I couldn't be much help."

"I figured nothing was there," the officer said, "Well, at least we got a federal agent to confirm this, too."

"Absolutely. I need to talk to my partner about addressing our superior later on. Special Agent Jovi, a word?"

"Sure," Dean said.

When we got out of the crime scene and migrated to across the street so the cops can be out of earshot, we started talking.

"So?" Dean asked.

"Well, good news is I was able to pick up on something. Better news is that it's not a demon we're dealing with. The only downfall is that this is a vengeful spirit...and it is VERY powerful."

"How powerful?"

"I'm not sure. I just know that whatever this is, it's REALLY angry."

"You think you can pick it up at these homes?"

"I can try," I said, "Can you bring the map to the officers and have them mark down where the bodies were found? I'll wait in the car. I just need to rest a bit so I can use my energy later on."

Dean nodded and I handed him the map of the New Orleans area. I went back to the Impala, only to notice what appeared to be a street performer on the walk back, playing his trumpet to some kind of jazz tune. I approached him and took out a bit of change, putting it in his bucket.

"Thank you, miss," he said.

"It's a lovely tune you're playing there," I said, "Is it something you wrote yourself?"

"Nah. I ain't play my songs in a long time, miss. This song, however, is something that locals know, and I guessing you ain't a local."

I shook my head. "My colleague and I are in the area for business stuff."

I didn't want to scare him off by telling him we were "federal agents," so I kept some of the truth from him.

"Anyways, what's the tune called?" I asked.

"This tune was written sometime after World War I," he explained, "The title of the song is 'Don't Scare Me, Papa,' written because of a string of activities happenin' here."

"What kind of activities?"

"He, or it, had a lot of names, but the most common one is 'The Axeman.'"

Could this be who we're dealing with?

"What did he do? I'm guessing went and killed people with an axe?"

The man just scoffed. "He wasn't a very bright killer. A good chunk of the people he targeted survived the attacks, including a pregnant woman who successfully gave birth shortly after her attack."

Wow. Go her!

"Did they ever catch him?" I asked.

"No, they never found out who did it. There's rumors of it possibly being an entity of some kind...but I think that's a load of horse shit."

If only you knew, my good sir.

"Do you know anything else?"

He shook his head. "Best bet is to check the library's here. They got everything there. Sorry if that wasn't much a story..."

"No, actually, that's interesting. I'll have to look at this case in my spare time when I'm on break," I said, "True Crime...it's kind of my thing."

I gave a soft chuckle while the man smiled at me. I held my hand out to shake his and he gladly took it.

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"My pleasure, ma'am," he said, "And, hey, thanks for the money."

I walked a few more steps before I finally got to the Impala. I kept thinking about what that street musician said to me, wondering if this Axeman could be our person...or spirit in this case. This could potentially be a lead, and I can't ignore it.

I got my phone out and dialed Sam's number, hoping that he was finished his interview with the victim.

"Hey, you two got anything?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, "Good news is this spirit did leave some traces behind so I was able to pick up a few things. It's not a demon, thankfully, but this is a VERY angry spirit."

"You think you can pick it up at the houses where the victims were?"

"I could try. Dean's talking to the cops as we speak so he can mark down where the homes are. Anyways, did the woman say anything about what happened?"

"She doesn't remember too much," Sam said, "The only thing she remembers is the music that was used to lure her. She was told by the authorities that the only reason she was alive is because someone found her in time."

"Did she know what the tune was?" I asked.

"She said it was a standard Jazz song, but she wasn't sure what it was."

Well that's less than helpful. At least I know that it is a jazz song that was used.

"Well, Sam, before you go back to the motel...can you stop at the library and grab a few things? I think I may have an idea on who, or what, this is. Call it a hunch, but it does sound like a lead."

"Why, what is it, love?"

"I ran into this street performer and he was performing a song known as 'Don't Scare Me Papa.' Apparently it was written when World War I ended and it was inspired by a cold case, known as the Axeman."

"You think the spirit may be this?"

"It's possible. The performer did mention that one of the theories is that the killer was actually a vengeful spirit. We better look into it just in case."

"Will do. I'll catch a cab and see what I can find."

"Thanks, love. I'll see you in a bit."

We both hung up and just the right time, there was a knock at the window. Dean held up the map and got in.

"Okay, got the locations," Dean said, "Let's see if you can get these energy pick ups."

He handed me the map and I looked at each location marked down. It was a little bit outside the city, and while the locations looked to be random, it looks like a specific neighborhood was the main target.

"Cop said that the neighborhood there used to be full of Italian immigrants and Italian-Americans," Dean said, "Now it's got a bit of a mix of people."

"Well hopefully I can pick up a few things," I said, "I sent Sam to the library because I may have found a lead..."