In this chapter, with the idea I have, I don't think there's going to be a lot of 'ghost action', but a lot more on Tate and Ben, her father and more Tate and Dean. Okay, maybe a little ghost-ness toward the end, I'm not sure so don't hold me to it, lol. Thanks for all the reviews, keep reading and reviewing, I love reading what you guys think of it so far.

Chapter 8- Scrapes and Scars

"Yes, Colorado, that's what I said kiddo. I need you to get out here, we have work to do." Benjamin King could have doubled as John Winchester's twin, personality wise, the two were the same. They both had 'missions' to fulfill; John's was to find the demon that killed Mary and now Jess and Ben's was to hunt down every Wendigo he could find; in his mind every time he killed one he got a little more vengeance for Serena, Tate's mother. Part of Tate knew that was why he asked her to come with him, he probably found some of the gross looking creatures and needed her help. She had only been in California two days and now had a ghost to deal with, a ghost who was killing people, she couldn't just get up and leave.

"Why dad? What did you find?"

"About three of them living in an abandoned mine."

"Dad, where are you? And tell me you're not going after them alone?"

"I'm not; I have Ryan here with me."

"Ryan?" She asked, her eyes going wide and when she remembered Dean was still standing behind her, his hand on her back, she felt sick. Ryan was some punk kid that started hanging around her father's longest job, a rather too long stint with John at a garage in Memphis after Garrett died. He was the boss's son and clung to her father right away, his own dad never paid attention to him and Ben had just lost his son, so they made a perfect pair. In Tate's mind, Ryan was Garrett's replacement and she hated him for it, except that one night when she got smashed at a bar with him before she left and wound up sleeping with him. That was two weeks before she moved away and two weeks before she broke up with Dean.

"Yeah, I brought him along; the kid's gotten a lot better."

"No dad, I'm not coming." She said, gripping Dean's hand tightly, the old Tate slipped through, the one that cried when her father did things like this and ran to Dean when Ben left her alone.

"Tatum Elizabeth! I gave you an order, you have to come!" But that was the one thing about Ben that he lacked, he wasn't like John, he couldn't control the kids like John did. In their screwed up 'family'; John, Dean, Sammy, Tate, Ben and Garrett, John had always been the definition of 'dad', the one who made the rules and made you stick to them. Ben was the 'mom', the nice one, the 'good cop', the one who would let the kids sneak out at night to catch a late movie and a bite to eat after a long hunt. At times he was a push-over and Tate, when she was younger, had him wrapped around her finger.

"I don't take orders anymore; you go hunt this fucking thing, get killed or better yet, feed Ryan to one. I'm done dad. You call me out of no where to come hunting with you and my dead brother's replacement, I can't do it, I can't be near him. And besides, I'm on a hunt with the boys, I'm working." Tate slapped the phone shut and with teary eyes gave it back to Dean. "Here, thanks." She said, letting him go and pushing away from him, tears mingling in with the slowly drying blood that caked her face.

Walking out of Shauna's office, she found the blonde sitting at a computer, a cup of coffee between shaking hands and a shocked look lingering in her wide eyes. Tate could feel her starring at her face and knew why; she must've looked like a mess.

"What happened to you Miss King?" She asked, nodding toward a long gash along her forehead.

"It's a long story, one I really don't feel like retelling right now. Shauna, I know this is hard for you, but is there any way I can schedule an appointment with you and Professor Summers to ask you both a couple more questions about Kyle?"

"I can talk to her and then call you; do you have a cell phone?" Before she even asked, Tate had pulled out a business card and put a star next to her cell phone number.

"Call me anytime, about Kyle, about his death or if you want to talk."

"Thanks, I will." She said taking the card and once she put it away, Tate left the classroom, followed by Dean and only to bump into Sam. In his hand was some paper towels, a couple were wet and some band-aids.

"I got them from the nurse." He said, grinning. Tate took them from him and walked down the hall, heading toward the entrance.

The weather had changed since she first pulled into the college, it went from a warm sun filled morning to a gray sky filled with thick clouds and large rain drops. Tate didn't care, she walked out and stood on the grass, letting the drops soak through her baby tank top and chill her to the bone. Lifting her face to the sky, she closed her eyes and let the water run over the ridges, dips, straight-aways and curves of her face. The darkened blood on her forehead, cheeks, across the bridge of her nose and down her jaw line all began to wash away, leaving behind long angry red lines. Dean walked out behind her, watching her stretch her arms out and almost try to collect the rain. She did this every time it rained. Creeping up behind her, he put a hand on her hip and turned her toward the car.

"Come on Tate; let's go get you cleaned up." He whispered softly into her wet hair and pulled her close. She let him lead her toward the car and when he opened the back door, she slid in and leaned her head back against the seat. Her wet hair slid off the vinyl material covering the head rest and she allowed a breath that she had been holding in too long out. Sam opened the back door behind the driver's seat and sat down next to her. He loved Tate like he would love a sister and was glad she came out of whatever happened in there with the ghost fine, well minus the cuts on her face. She scooted over to him and rested her head against his shoulder, her hair dripping onto his shirt. But when she turned to bury her face in his arm, he realized it wasn't rain drops soaking into his clothes, it was tears.

"Tate? Tate shh, it's okay. We got you, Dean and I got there before anything happened." Sam whispered, rubbing her shoulders.

"This has nothing to do with the damn ghost." She mumbled, laughing softly.

"Then what's wrong?" He asked as Tate pushed away from him and sat back against the window; flipping her hair back off of her face.

"Ben called her." Dean said as he put the key in the ignition and the car roared to life.

"What did he say to you?"

"He wanted me to come out to Colorado with him; to hunt some Wendigos with Ryan. With Ryan! Does he think he'll ever get me out there with him again if that little asshole is with him?" She said, roughly brushing away tears and rain drops. "I hate that kid; he's Garrett's replacement for Christ sake! He takes my brother's place after he died and now, my dad tells him everything about us and has the kid hunting. It pisses me off, I never replaced Rett, but he did, just like he replaced mom with all of those other women." She ended with a shudder and more tears fell down her cheeks.

As Dean twisted in his seat, one hand on the wheel the other draped over Sam's usual seat and his head cocked to the side to look out the back window so he could see where he was going as he pulled out of the parking space, he moved his hand from the back of the head rest and over to Tate. With a slow, almost shaky move, he brushed the tears off her face and smiled, she let him touch her, and his smile only grew wider when she smiled back at him. Maybe the two of them would be all right after all.

Back in Shauna's office, even though Shauna now sat outside in the hallway waiting for the computer maintenance people to come look at the computer that the ghost had knocked over when she threw Tate into the desk, the ghost; the murdered Tracy Allerdyce hovered in the air conditioning vent and concentrated on pulling her body back together. As she hid in the duct, she had heard everything between Tatum and her father. A slow evil grin spilled across her lips; it was too easy. She'd use the guilt of Garrett's death and her father favoring this Ryan character over his only daughter.

"Too easy." She hissed as her body, now fully restored, slid down the duct and toward the art department buildings.

As the Impala pulled into the hotel's parking lot and the engine died to nothing but a purr, Sam got out first, quickly followed by Tate who walked to the front of the car and leaned against the hood. Her long fingers splayed out against the black metal beneath her, her weight resting on her palms and the back of her knees that bumped against the grill, her tanned skin contrasting sharply with the ebony paint. The heat coming through from the engine seeped through the rough denim of her jeans and the warmth spread to her still numb legs. Even though the passing summer rain had ended and cooled down the humid air, Tate shivered, convulsed and tinier tremors flew through her body like it was eighty below instead of the sticky eighty two. The feeling of the ghost touching her face left a cold, icy void inside her and she knew from past experience it would take a while to fully leave her. Watching the boys bring guns out of the trunk in other duffle bags, she put her face in her hands, her cheeks still damp and sighed. She hated crying in front of people, especially Sam and Dean. She was supposed to be a hard ass hunter with a tough outer layer and heart made of stone, not some mushy little girl who was still afraid of the monster under the bed and begged daddy to turn her night light on. Looking up, she felt eyes on her and saw Dean standing in the door way.

"What?" Her voice was raspy from crying in the car and quickly cleared her throat.

"You're sitting on my car."

"Yeah, what are you going to do about it?" She challenged, arching a once pierced eye brow. Dean didn't have to know that she got her eye brow pierced with a boyfriend who has gotten his tongue pierced the same night and that they both held hands as the earrings entered their skin. He didn't know much about her life in Boston and she had no plans on letting him know.

"Kick you off of it."

"I doubt it, your dad used to let me sit up here all the time."

"Before he restored it." Dean said, pushing off the door frame and moving towards her, closing the distance between them with three long strides. He stood right in front of her so close that if he leaned in they'd only be inches apart.

"Where's Sammy?"

"Inside looking up that Allerdyce chick."

"I was going to do it." She said brushing a piece of his hair that had fallen away from the other gelled in place pieces off of his forehead.

"Guess he beat you to it." He said, placing his hands on top of hers and leaned into her body. "What are we doing Tate?"

"I have no idea." She whispered; a whisper was all she could muster at the moment as she placed a kiss on the end of his chin. "I've only been back with the two of you for two days and it feels like we haven't skipped a beat; you and me 'we', not the three of us."

If Dean pushed her back any further she'd be laying fully stretched out on the hood of 'his baby' and she hadn't been put in that position since she spied him at her two-year college graduation. Sam was still at school, most likely just finishing his up his first year at Stanford and John had brought Dean on a hunt in Salem, something about a witch, and Dean made a side trip to Boston after Ben called them to tell him he'd have his phone turned off for two days; two days to just spend time with Tate. She had seen him the moment she went up for her diploma; he wasn't that hard to miss, the only person wearing a thick leather jacket standing in the back of the field sweating to death in the too warm May weather. And as soon as all the mortarboards had been thrown, she ran through the crowd and found him leaning against his car with an orange lily in hand; her favorite flower and tucked it behind her ear. At that time she hadn't spoken to him or about him in two years, her 'college' friends had no idea who the handsome stranger was that they saw talking to her that day and still didn't know. But after talking to him for a few minutes and a few too many kisses, they wound up in some back parking lot with Tate laying on the hood of the car wearing a wrinkled sun dress, her gown on the floor and her fingers traveling over Dean's bare chest. That was the last time she saw him until two days before in the LAX parking lot.

Hearing a cough and a covered up giggle, Tate came back from her memory of a long ago 'quickie' on the hood of a gorgeous muscle car, and looked up around Dean to see Sam standing where his brother had been a few moments before. Sam had that shit eatting grin on his face and there was something about it that made him seem like the Sammy she had grown up with, not the one who was dragged away from school.

"Am I interupting something?" Sam asked, another round of laughter tugging against his lips.

"Nope, just talking about something Sammy. Move Dean..." She whispered, pushing him away and hoping down, only to have the older Winchester take up her still warm perch on the car. "...what's up Sam?" She asked as she strode over to him, all power and buisness like nothing ever happened.

"I found some stuff on that Allerdyce woman, a lot of interesting stuff."

"What kind of interesting stuff Sam?" Dean asked, raking a hand through his hair.

"Come inside, I have it all pulled up on the laptop."

"We will, give us a minute Sammy." Tate arched an eye brow and watched Sam go inside, listening to his older brother. She had a feeling why he wanted a minute without him but she wasn't ready to deal with it yet.

"All right, you've got a minute. I want to get this ghost shit over and done with." She said, popping her knuckles.

"How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Go right back to normal like that after what happened out here."

"Dean, nothing happened out here, something almost happened but we're not going to recreate that memory on the hood of the car for 'old times sake', I won't do it." They just looked at each other for a few seconds; Tate picking at the already chipping polish on her nails and Dean checking the hood for scratches.

"You never answered my question; what are we doing?"

"I did! I said I have no idea!" She yelled, getting frustrated and running a hand over her face, wincing when she hit a cut. "Maybe it's best if I go to Colorado and help my dad. If Sam's found stuff, you two'll know what to do; with or without me. If I go, it might be the best thing for us; not to see each other at all."

"I don't think it'll be best." He said, pushing himself off the car and walking towards the hotel door.

"And why not?" Tate demanded, a hand on her hip.

"Because."

"Dean! That is not..." Her sentence went unfinished as Dean pressed his lips to hers.