A few days had passed since the attack, readjusting herself to the normalcy of her life had proven more difficult; than she could have imagined. Annie was thrown into this brand-new world, drowning, and her only lifeline was a handsome, functioning alcoholic with a remarkable way with a gun. But Dean was good to her. He was patient, kind and he tried his best to help her the best way he knew how, the only way he knew how and that was going headfirst into the crazy. She loved him even more for it, but it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted time, the time they didn't have. What she wanted was for things to be like it was in the beginning. They hadn't been intimate since her encounter; they were feeling more like business partners instead of lovers. She was in their world now; things couldn't be 'normal' anymore.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and just like every Wednesday at the diner, the lunch rush was ridiculous. Wall to wall costumers, endless pots of coffee, and a lunch special that sold out before noon. It was a welcome distraction. Annie was in a great mood, smiling, laughing with everyone. The building cleared out, and as the lunch crowd left, a lively young man came waltzing in with a special delivery for someone. He was wearing an unassuming black t-shirt that read 'Rustic Petals' on the upper right-hand side. Both hands clasped around the vase of a dozen roses he presented at the counter. Annie looked up from the till as she closed out a ticket, smiling at the delivery man in envy. "Who are these for?"

His brows furrowed in thought has he dug in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a crumpled slip of paper "They are for an Annie Nolan." He replied happily.

What flowers for me? Her dark eyes lit up as she smiled. "That's me."

"Wow, these put the ones I bought my wife to shame." He teased. "Enjoy!" The male turned on his heel, leaving the diner, off to his next delivery. Her eyes rested on the embarrassingly beautiful display of red roses resting in front of her. These had to have been from Dean; she just knew it. Her fingertips gently ran along with the delicate petals. They were gorgeous, leaning forward she took in the fragrance. Finally, her fingers grabbed the little white card attached. Butterflies were dancing in her stomach in anticipation of the sweet words her hunter written for her. Happily, she pulled the card from the envelope, her eyes scanning the card held in her hand. It was as if she had been hit by a bus. Slowly, you could see the color drain from her cheeks; her smile quickly wiped away. She was going to be sick, her nerves threatening to bring up the contents of her stomach. These weren't from Dean. Annie's heart raced; as her eyes darted at the card once more; You look beautiful today, love Charlie. Her eyes shot up, turning her head this way and that. Was this a joke? Was he watching her right now? Slowly, she looked down at the roses, quickly grabbing them before anyone could see. Frantically, she ran out the back door to the dumpster tossing them with the rest of the trash. It all happened so fast, throwing her hand against her chest. She couldn't catch her breath. In a wave of panic, fear washed over her.

She never tried to hide anything from Dean or Sam; it was just that things were hectic. The Winchester's spent a lot of time trying to track the pack, but in their endless cat and mouse game, Charlie was one step ahead of them; he was like the untouchable man. The last thing she wanted to do was give them something else to stress out about; naively, she thought if she ignored it. The harassment would stop, but it only got worst. Annie started getting calls on her cellphone from unlisted numbers in the middle of the night. Each time she would answer, it would only be heavy breathing, then they would hang up. On one instance, when Dean asked about it, Annie replied with the wrong number. His response was to threaten to throw the phone against the wall if they didn't stop calling before rolling over to go back to sleep, she told herself don't tell Dean. It escalated to her finding sexually explicate drawings in her mailbox, on her car, it was juvenile. Charlie wanted a reaction; she didn't give him the satisfaction. What scared her the most was the fact that she started seeing his truck everywhere she went, work, the gas station, down the street. It felt like she was losing her mind; she questioned herself if she was seeing him or if the worry and stress were playing tricks on her mind. Strategic move in stalking.

To put the cherry on top of the psycho sundae. It was Sunday, 3:00 pm, Annie was leaving the grocery store after running in to grab a couple of items. The young woman returned to the parking lot, as her eyes drifted up to her car. There he was, Charlie. The messy long hair, torn up jeans, the pack of cigarettes sticking out of the front pocket of his plaid shirt. The predator crossed one leg over the other as he casually leaned up against her driver's side door. His dark sunglasses masked his stare, but there was no mistaking it, he was looking right at her. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Charlie lifted his sunglasses with his jaw twitching as it curled into a sickening grin. He didn't move or do anything. He waited until the brunette found the courage to approach.

She should have called Dean. She didn't. After a few minutes she slowly, and cautiously approached her car, staying an arm's length away, she thought about telling him if he tried anything that she would stab him, but she remained silent. Slowly, the male pulled himself from the car, circling the young woman like she was prey. His eyes studied the brunette before positioning himself behind her. His fingertips gently brushing hair away from her ear, Charlie leaned in."You look like shit." He whispered in her ear. Stepping in front of her, he pulled his sunglasses down, offering a smile. "Tell Dean I say hi." Then he vanished.

For Charlie to take such a massive risk like that, it could only be for one of two reasons. The first being, he knew Annie wouldn't say anything for fear of Dean doing something reckless and getting himself killed, the other being, that was what he wanted. He was trying to smoke him out and have the hunter come for him. Annie stood there in a frozen state, aimlessly staring at the pavement. She couldn't think. Annie wasn't even sure she was breathing. Her knuckles white from how tightly she was holding onto her cell phone. Call him. Call him right now. Her eyes slowly looked down at her phone, in that exact moment, it started ringing, an incoming call from Dean.

She stood there staring at the screen as he waited on her to answer, letting it go to voice mail. Afterward, it started ringing again. She was going to let it go to voice mail once more, but at the final ring, she answered."Hello?" barely getting the greeting out.

"You okay?" Dean replied. The somberness in her voice did not go unnoticed.

"It's been a long day." She replied, hoping it would be a good enough response for her hunter. "What's up?" Annie quickly asked, trying to draw the conversation away from her.

The hunter sat with his cellphone pressed between his ear and shoulder, casually leaning back in his chair, with his feet crossed, resting at the edge of the small table in his and Sam's motel room. His brows furrowed at her response; he wasn't sure how much he believed her. He took a small pause, shifting his phone to the other shoulder, shrugging off his concern, focusing on the reason for his call. His eyes squinted together, holding up a shell casing full of salt, eyeing to make sure it leveled.

"Sam and I are gonna go down to Grand Forks for a few days." He started.

"Why?" Annie abruptly interrupted.

"We got a case at the University of North Dakota. No big deal sounds like a ghost." He added. "Sam and I think it might be a good idea to take a break for a few days, clear our minds. We are leaving for three days tops than we'll be back in Bismarck."

There was a long pause that came from Annie. This was not what she needed to hear at all. They were going to go away, leaving her with that psychopath running around. What infuriated her, even more, was that Dean seemed to have no problem leaving her as if everything was fine. No, she took matters into her own hands. "I'm coming with."

"Um, What? I don't think—" Dean spat out, but Annie was so adamant about it. Her behavior was uncharacteristically odd.

"You heard me, Dean Winchester. I'm coming with you." There was no room for negotiation on this one. If she must sit in some bug-infested motel room the whole time, she didn't care, but she wasn't staying here.

"Okay," He hesitated. The phone had gone quiet after a few seconds, "Hello, Annie?" His brows narrowed as he pursed his lips together, pulling the phone from his ear. She had hung upon him. Already speeding home to pack her things.

She never did tell him about Charlie.