Are you guys ready? Only two more chapters after this until we get to the end of Season 3! Can you believe it? I can't haha. Many, MANY thanks to Tessa my beta and partner in crime. She's such a sweetie pie :)

Hope you all enjoy and I'd love to know what you think!

Chapter 55- Can You Hear Me Now?

We've all been tired after a long day, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for hours. I was beyond tired, not just from lack of sleep but with my life in general. Or at least what it had become. It was no longer a secret that I didn't want to go to hell but I was getting tired of fighting. I was tired of searching for a woman that couldn't be found. I was tired of arguing with my brothers. I was tired of the nightmares. I was tired of breathing. I was tired.

Dean snacked on something he heated up at the last gas station we stopped at while I rested my head on his shoulder ready to fall asleep at any minute. He had tried to shrug me off, I mean we were on a college campus and how was he supposed to pick up chicks with his sister snoozing on his shoulder, but a pinch and twist of the skin on his side had him relenting- muttering obscenities at me, but relenting nonetheless. He had gotten a call a few minutes ago from Bobby about our next case and now we were waiting for Sam to finish talking to some college professor. He was certain this smarty-pants would have some kind of clue how to get me out of my deal. The last fifteen didn't so why he thought this one was any different was beyond me.

I was almost asleep; my head digging further into Dean's shoulder, when a half empty can of soda was shoved into my hands. I blinked a few times in hopes it would wake me up and Dean motioned to Sam who was making his way towards the bench we were occupying.

"So?" Dean prompted him, tossing a full, unopened can of soda to Sam who caught it effortlessly. Why I get the half-empty can I'll never know but I wasn't about to complain at least it was some sort of caffeine.

Sam cracked the can, taking a long sip, "So, the professor doesn't know crap."

"Yeah I could have told you that," I grumbled and Sam shot me a look. I don't know how he pulled it off but he had those sympathetic puppy eyes going on while still throwing me a bitch face. If anyone should be annoyed, Samuel, it should be me. I am the one going to hell. For you. Asshole.

He was about ready to argue, like we had been doing every second of every day for the last few weeks but Dean spoke up before he had the chance. "Pack your panties, Sammy, we're hitting the road."

"What? What's up?"

I finished the last drop of much needed caffeine and tossed the can into a nearby garbage bin, "Bobby's got a case for us in Ohio."

Sam stared at me for a minute before his gaze went to Dean for a brief second and then back to me. "Ohio?"

"Yeah," I shrugged, wondering what the big deal was. I mean did he have something against the state? "Apparently some banker blew his head off and he thinks there's a spirit involved." Sam looked ready to blow up at me, again, and I admit I took the child's way out. "Dean said it was okay."

The side of Sam's soda can was getting indented where he was squeezing it so hard. I knew he wasn't going to be exactly happy about taking a case but I didn't think it was going to be World War Three. "So," he basically spit at Dean, "You and Bobby were talking a case?"

"Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire. Computer was flipping on and off…" Dean trailed off as Sam just stared at him. Good, now even Dean thinks Sam is crazy. "This isn't ringing your bell?"

Sam looked between Dean and me again like we were playing some practical joke on him. "I guess but why can't some other hunter go check it out?" I was about to answer that we were the closest around when he all but exploded, momentarily forgetting we were in the middle of a college campus with witnesses if he decided to murder one or both of us. "We're on a case!" When we hadn't responded he threw and exasperated arm in my direction. "Leah!"

"I'm not a case!" I slapped his hand out of my face, and curled my own into a fist ready to hit him if he didn't shut up. "Sam, we've been all over. We can't find Bela. We can't find the Colt. You had me talk to a bearded lady for fuck's sake. I know you are trying your best to get me out of my deal, both of you are, and I appreciate it but if I don't work an actual case I'm going to shoot you, okay? Bullet through the skull, shoot you. I'm tired, Sam. Bobby is still searching on his end and if he can't find it then no one can. Is it so wrong to want to work a case with my brothers instead of my brothers thinking I was the case?"

There was a chorus of "I never said you were a case," and an "I think we should summon Ruby."

If it was possible to give yourself whiplash I think I would have with how quick my head snapped in Sam's direction when he said that. I could see Dean's face contorting to pure anger at our brother's words and we both clipped out a disgusted, "What?"

"She said she knows how to save you."

I let out a little chuckle and then it turned into full-blown laughter complete with a few tears rolling down my cheeks. This is what my life has come to; wanting to summon a demon to save me from the pit as if when she breathes the air doesn't come out crooked. For all we know we could summon her and she could find a way to send me down there sooner. I used the corner of my jacket to wipe my face as I started to come down from my hysterics. It was Dean's avoidance of our eyes that sobered me up real quick. "Spill it."

"She can't."

"Think you could be a little more specific? Who can't do what?" I grabbed the half-dented can out of Sam's hand and finished it somehow knowing I was going to need the extra boost with whatever Dean was going to enlighten us with.

"Ruby. She told me. Flat out. She can't save you, nobody can."

I blinked at his admission unsure if I was more shocked with the reality of it all or the fact that he let me keep my hopes up as we drove all over the lower forty-eight states searching for answers. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. That's why he agreed to take this case when Bobby called. I couldn't figure it out until now. I knew I was going to have a fight on my hands with Sam and I assumed with Dean too but he just took the case without so much as a single protest. He knew.

"And you just somehow neglected to mention this to me?" Sam nearly growled and I should have suggested that we take this lovely conversation we were having to the Impala but I was still too shell shocked to care if anyone overheard our family drama at the moment. I thought Sam might actually hit Dean but his lip just curled into a snarl instead. "So what, now you're keeping secrets from me, Dean?"

Dean glared at Sam, his face nothing but serious, "You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?"

The question wasn't even directed at me but I could feel the guilt bubbling in my stomach at my own secrets I was keeping. I didn't even want to guess what secrets Sam had but I suppose that's the true family business. It wasn't saving people, hunting things. It was saving each other, lying until no one knew the truth. I hadn't even realized I had walked away from them until Sam called after me with a long sigh, "Now where you going?"

"Ohio."

SUPERNATURAL

Riding in the Impala used to be one of my favorite things. It was the one place we could call home when we moved from state to state and from one disgusting motel to the next. Riding in the Impala with two brothers who each had their own issues was suffocating. I don't think I've ever been so happy to get into Ohio. We found a motel easily enough, well the second choice because the first didn't have the free WiFi Sam insisted on, and changed into our 'we're professionals please don't ask questions'attire.

The ride to this banker's house was even worse because now we were in uncomfortable clothes. As Dean pulled into the driveway Sam cleared his throat. "We'll do this just like any other job. No reason to argue over every little thing."

I scoffed as I scooted out the backseat, fucking skirts, "That is like any other job." Dean smirked a bit at my comment but quickly hid it before Sam could see. Bunch of children I work with here.

The lawn was so neatly cut I almost wanted to take my heels off and walk through it. Certainly, it must feel as soft as it looked. The house wasn't extravagant but compared to where I had lived in the past it could have easily been a castle. My brothers gave the widow the usual spiel and my eyes landed on every precise picture on the wall and trinkets on top of the bookshelves. Part of me had the urge to move something just so it wouldn't be so perfect. I felt like just standing inside somehow made it less than what it really was.

"I found him there," the woman pointed over toward a large desk, snapping me back to reality and reminding me that we were here for a job not to be daydreaming for what could have been if I went to college and got a real job.

If I hadn't known any better I would have thought nothing happened at all. Every thing was as organized as I assumed it would have been before his death. There wasn't a drop of blood that could be seen and even the papers on his desk were stacked neatly.

"Why don't you tell us everything you saw, Mrs. Waters," Dean tried to sound sympathetic to the woman but I could hear the underlying need to get the information and get the hell out of there. I wonder if he felt out of place here too.

Mrs. Waters shot Dean a look, "You mean beside my dead husband?"

I opened my mouth to answer but Sam stepped on my toes to stop me as he quickly replied, "Just everything else you saw. Please."

His gigantor foot just crushed my beautiful toes and he didn't seem to notice at all. Payback is a bitch, Samuel. Mrs. Waters seemed like she couldn't care less about my throbbing foot as she sighed, bored with our questions even though we had only asked one so far. "Blood. Everywhere. The phone was ripped from the wall, his favorite scotch on the desk, what else could you possibly want to know?"

Well, we'd like to know what happened so we can try and save the next financially stable couple it decides to go after unless you keep being a bitch then I'd gladly let this spirit destroy your perfectly spotless life. That's what I would have liked to have said at least but instead I clipped out, as politely as possible, "Do you know why the phone was ripped from the wall?"

She shook her head and I wanted to physically shake her. I've said it before and I'll say it again, our lives would be a hell of a lot easier if people were more forthcoming with information instead of us having to pull it out of them. We aren't dentists. We aren't evil. Sam checked out the phone that was now back where it should be and Dean did his best to keep Mrs. Waters occupied until Sam was done.

"Ma'am, what time did your husband die?" Sam asked from behind us and while Dean turned to get her answer from her I shot Sam a questioning look. He tapped the front of the phone where the caller identification was and I wondered who could have called that would make Sam curious.

Mrs. Waters, still annoyed by our presence, sighed yet again. "Sometime after eleven."

Taking a deep breath so I wouldn't completely snap on the bitch I asked, "What about strange phone calls? Weird interference, static, dropped calls…anything like that?"

She shook her head again as if she was incapable of actually answering but when I refused to stop staring at her she let out a quite defensive, "No!"

That was way too easy. Lord, lady, if you're going to lie at least be good at it. Dean must have had the same thought as he got this smug look on his face as he crossed his arms, "Mrs. Waters, withholding information from the police is a capital offence." Sam cleared his throat and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. He never lets us have any fun. "In some parts of the world I'm sure," Dean muttered.

"A couple of weeks ago, uh…there was this…" Mrs. Waters sputtered out and Dean and I shared a look before both staring her down. What's scarier than a Winchester? Two. "I woke up one morning, I heard Ben in his study. I thought he was talking to a woman."

Sam had rejoined our lovely little group and asked, "What made you think that?"

Oh, Samuel, we know. We always know. Mrs. Waters seemed to agree and for a split second it was as if we were on the same side. "Because he kept calling her Linda. The thing is, I picked up the other line and nobody was there, Ben was talking to nobody."

"There was no one there?" The question spilled out of my mouth before I could stop myself but at least I kept any attitude out of my voice. This time it was purely curiosity. We were finally getting somewhere.

"Just static."

Okay, so if it wasn't for the dead body I might have thought this guy was just cuckoo for coco puffs. "Did he ever say who Linda was? A relative? A former love?"

"What difference does it make? There was nobody on the other end!"

SUPERNATURAL

I had never been so happy to get back into my comfortable cargo pants. Although research wasn't my favorite part of the hunt, right now I would take it because there were no awkward silences filling the room with too much tension until one of us snapped. We worked on our own curiosities concerning the case and I borrowed Sam's laptop to try and figure out who this Linda chick was that Mr. Waters was talking to on the phone. While not exactly an uncommon name I was surprised to see that there were five Lindas in the county. The first was an easy one to cross off the list. She was a three year old and a safe guess that she wouldn't be making any calls. The next four were a little harder to check into, all being of appropriate age and obviously my first thought was some kind of affair. Seriously, if you are married keep it in your pants or it just gets messy.

None of them seemed to have known Mr. Waters though and I sighed loudly, running a hand through my hair. Sam eyed me from where he sat on the small couch provided and I swear he was nervously looking at his laptop as if I would smash it or something when I got aggravated. Nerd. I rolled my eyes but refused to get into it right now. It was nice to have a case to focus on instead of talking a two-bit carnie that claimed they could save me.

Switching to the obituaries, I started my search again and within a few skillful clicks I had an article pulled up about Mr. Waters and Linda. "Got her."

Dean got up from his chair to look over my shoulder at the screen, "Linda's a babe."

"She's dead," I scrolled down the page a little more to figure out what happened to her.

Dean shrugged, "Still hot."

"You are disturbed."

Dean flicked my ear and on instinct, I reacted, elbowing him in the stomach. He grunted and went to retaliate when Sam cleared his throat, "So, Linda…what happened?"

Dean pulled my ponytail, craning my neck back, and moved away before I could hit him back. I clicked back to the top of the page, "Looks like she and Ben, our banker, were high school sweethearts. And it must have been some good sex too because she's definitely hotter than him. I wonder if he had money back then-"

"Leah!" Sam cut me off with his infamous bitch face.

Oh for the love of… relax, Samuel. "Yeah, yeah. Uh, let's see…a drunk driver hit them head on. Linda was killed on impact and Ben walked away. Says she was cremated though."

"So, what the dead flame's calling to chat?" Dean questioned, sitting back down and propping his feet up at the end of my bed.

I closed out the article I had found and opened a game of Solitaire, "I have no clue unless she is connected to some object or something but you think she would be haunting him not making midnight phone calls." I moved the ace up to the top and nodded to Sam. "What did you find out about that thing on the caller ID?"

"Turns out it's a phone number."

"Shut your mouth." Good lord, why does he always have to give me such annoying looks for? Hey, at least I was paying attention. "It's no phone number I've ever seen."

"Yeah, 'cause it's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks," Sam answered.

Well, that's definitely why we have never seen it before. Let's be honest, I did my part and I was like three clicks away from winning this game of Solitaire so I wasn't really paying attention until Sam came out of the bathroom wearing his suit and Dean was already buttoning up his own shirt. Sam closed the laptop right before I could put the last card up.

"You staying here?" He asked and I had to resist the urge to kick him in the family jewels.

"You're rude." Was my only answer as I grabbed my professional clothes and muttered obscenities as I stuffed my feet back into those dreaded heels.

It wasn't until we were pulling out of the parking lot that I was clued in to where we were going. I don't know why Sam thought the phone company would be able to help us but apparently Dean agreed. I mean, yeah, okay, so it was going through the phone lines but if a number like that hadn't been used since like years ago then some techie with a pocket protector isn't going to be able to help us and I changed for nothing.

Dean did our introductions as usual and I forced a smile when the creepy bald dude's eyes landed on me. I was a little bummed when Dean said we were from corporate. It was kind of fun pretending to be a Fed and it was definitely a power trip. The creeper led us downstairs and I visualized the gun stuck in the back of my pants because witnesses or not if I saw a rat I was going to shoot it.

"Yes, well the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch." Dean's comment had me snapping back to the conversation at hand. That was the Dean I knew and tolerated.

The creeper nodded, "Well I'm sure we can arrange something." Shit, free food? Maybe wearing this monkey suit would actually pay off. "The man you wanna be speaking to is right this…" he trailed off as Sam battled, and loss, with a few flies. "I know, sorry. We've got something of a hygiene issue down here if you ask me."

"Are you sure everything is up to code?" I questioned and Sam stomped on my foot as the creeper started spewing apologies at us and assuring everything was, or would be. Christ, Sam, a girl can have some fun, and if you don't stop stepping on my foot every time I do something you don't like you're going to permanently damage my feet.

Creeper led us into a room that was overflowing with magazines, takeout boxes, and even more flies. "Stewie? What did I tell you about keeping this place clean?"

Yeah, because clearly he's been listening. The place was absolutely disgusting but the filth wasn't the worst of it. It was what this so-called Stewie was trying close on his computer. There were more porn sites than I think Dean had even been on and when I saw a page with an animal on it I had to force myself not to be sick.

"Spam mail…spam mail," Stewie mumbled as he frantically closed the windows that kept popping up on his computer screen.

Creeper didn't look amused at all and I wondered if there was a reason they put Stewie in the basement. "Stewie, these three are from headquarters." Creeper glared at him, "Give them whatever they need."

He left and Stewie crossed his legs, clasping his hands together and resting them on his knee as if he was trying to appear innocent. Dean nodded to the computer, "Is that BustyAsianBeauties dot com?"

"No," Stewie quickly swiveled in his chair, knocking the mouse away from the pad as a woman on the screen moaned, Oh, me so horny. "Maybe."

Dean smirked and I swear he puffed out his chest a bit, "A word to the wise? Platinum membership? Worth every penny."

"Okay," I cut in, not wanting to hear them exchange pros and cons about which porn sites were better. Snatching the paper out of Sam's hand, I took the lead. "Before you two get into who has more freaky fetishes that I'm sure will give us all nightmares, we are actually here for a reason. We need you to trace a number for us and the quicker you do that the quicker we will be out of your hair."

"Where did you get this?" Stewie asked, looking at the number Sam had jotted down.

"Does it-" I was going to say that it doesn't matter where we got it from and remind him that we were from headquarters but Sam happened to cut in, always ready with the nice words Dean and I had no patience for.

"Off a caller ID."

Stewie outright laughed and if he didn't trace this number in the next five seconds I was going to shoot him on principle that no one that annoying should be alive. "Oh no, that's impossible. It's prehistoric. Trust me, nobody is using this number anymore."

"Yeah, see, you're starting to annoy the ever living shit out of me. So, could you just run the number," I nearly growled, adding a forced. "Please."

He leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face. "Sure. Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first."

As if Sam knew I was going to hit the guy a heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder keeping me from moving even an inch closer. Dean, however, was just as fed up with this guy as I was. "Listen, uh, Stewie. You got like six kinds of employee code violations down here, not to mention the sickening porn that is clogging up your hard drive. Now when my partner says run the number, I suggest you run the number!"

Call me sadistic but I love when Dean gets all angry and it's not directed at me. It's like I have a guard dog that I can just sit back and let handle the assholes for me. Stewie looked between the three of us before he pulled up an actual program he was supposed to have on his computer and typed in the number. "Holy crap."

"What?" Sam questioned, his fingers still digging into my shoulder like he was scared I would actually kill the dude if he let go.

"I can't tell you where the number comes from, but I can tell you where it's been going." He clicked a few more buttons and the printer turned on, spitting out a page that he handed to Dean. "Ten different numbers in the past few weeks all got calls from the same number."

And this would be the time we tracked down every one of those people. I just wanted to find whatever was doing this, kill it, and find another case before Sam and Dean teamed up and locked me in a room somewhere until we figured out how to get me not to go to hell.

"Uh," Stewie cleared his throat. "Are we done here? 'Cause I was…sort of…busy?"

SUPERNATURAL

This was stupid. So what if Dad gave Dean the Impala, did that really mean Sam and I couldn't take it every once in awhile? He wouldn't even let me take it when I reminded him I was dying soon. Fucker. So, here I was driving around this town in a damn rental car that smelled like Cheetos. My brothers each got three names from the list but oh not me I got four since they claimed I was so happy to catch a case. The first three people I had checked out were fairly normal except that they were talking to dead people. I feel like I should be in the movie The Sixth Sense.

My last stop was at a retirement home, signing in under a fake name I went and knocked on the door of room 153. I waited a bit and just as I thought I should knock again a little old lady opened the door. And when I say little I mean she had the perfect view of my boobs. Good thing it wasn't a little old man.

"Hi, ma'am, I'm sorry to bother you. I'm with the phone company and-"

"Oh, is this about Richard?" She held the door open so I could come in and after she sat back in her chair, I sat on the flowery couch next to her. "I knew it was too good to be true but at my age, dear, you have to take what little miracles you can get."

She offered me a cookie and suddenly I longed to have a grandmother that would bake and tell me stories from the past. "Why's it such a miracle to talk to Richard?"

"Honey, he died in Korea." I coughed trying to dislodge the cookie from my throat. Give a girl some warning here, Granny. Good Lord. "Chew your food, dear." She passed me a napkin and I wiped the corner of my mouth, offering her a small smile in apology. "The things he was telling me…it was like I was a young girl again. I haven't felt so good in such a long time."

"That's nice," I responded unsure of what else to say. "About how long ago did you start talking to him again?"

She thought back, searching her memory and slightly shrugged. "Must be about a few weeks or so now."

"And what, if you don't mind me asking, do you talk about?"

I don't know what I was expecting but when she said that they had phone sex I about lost my cookies. She was completely shameless and as she went into detail I started singing Metallica over and over again in my head just to block it out. There was an awkward goodbye and I all but ran to the car as if the further away from her I got then maybe I could forget about what I had just heard.

My phone rang and I was thankful for the distraction from the images that were running though my mind. "Yeah?"

"You about done?" Sam asked and I unlocked the car.

"Just finished." As much as I wanted to forget, I just couldn't help but share this image with Sam. "I just talked to an eighty four year old grandmother who's having phone sex with her husband, who died in Korea!"

"Eww."

"Dude, don't even get me started. It redefined my understanding of the word necrophilia. So, you guys figure out what we're dealing with yet?"

"No, but head back to the motel."

"Why? What's up?"

There was a pause on the other end and I got nervous for a minute. "Dean got a call."

"From who?"

"Dad." Now it was my turn to be quiet and I could almost see Sam's pathetic sad eyes. "Leah it doesn't-"

"On my way."

I hung up without giving him the chance to answer. What the hell did this all mean? Was my Dad really around? All I could think about was in my dream when he told me how much of a disappointment I was to him and suddenly as much as I wanted to get back to the motel room, I didn't. My phone rang again and I expected it to be Sam as if he knew I wanted to go for a drink before dealing with all of this.

I answered without looking at the caller identification, sighing, "I'm coming back Sam don't get your panties in a twist." There was a bit of static on the other end and I almost growled. "Sam?"

"Leah?" The female voice on the other end took me off guard but I knew who it was immediately and I could feel all the color drain from my face. "Leah, is that you?"

"Mom?"

SUPERNATURAL

That suffocating tension was back again in the room as Sam sat at the table and Dean paced in front of me making me dizzy. I felt like I was watching some tennis match. My head hurt and my stomach churned because as disbelieving as Sam looked to hear that Dad called Dean I wasn't about to add to it saying that I got a call, too.

"Dad? You really think it was Dad?" Sam questioned for the millionth time and Dean had anger radiating off him for having to explain it again. "Well, what did he sound like?"

A deep growl rumbled through his chest, "Like Oprah! Like Dad, he sounded like Dad, what do you think?"

"What did he say?" I asked so softly I wasn't sure that he had heard it.

Dean sighed and ran a hand down his face, "My name."

I didn't know how to feel about this. It seemed like our calls were so similar but why had Mom called me? And why didn't Sam get a call? I wasn't sure if I should feel bad that he didn't or jealous. My phone vibrated in my pocket and my heart caught in my throat. I couldn't not answer if she was calling me back but that wasn't exactly a conversation I wanted to have in front of my brothers. Quickly checking the screen, I saw it was just a text from Jo. I'd have to get back to her later this was enough to deal with for the moment.

Dean sat on the end of the bed I was sitting on, his elbows resting on his knees. "Okay, so what if…what if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back?"

"What do you mean?" Sam questioned, clearly not following what Dean was saying.

"Answer it?" I added, reminding them that I was still in the room.

I was ignored though as Dean dropped his gaze to the worn carpet for a moment, "What do I say?"

"Hello," Sam stated as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Dean stood up from the bed and glared at Sam, "Hello?" Sam shrugged and the little vein in Dean's forehead came out, "That's what you come back with, hello?" He snatched his jacket off the back of the chair by the door and whipped it open, turning to look at Sam one last time, "Hello!"

The door slammed behind him and then we heard the roar of the Impala's engine as he left the parking lot. Sam looked to me like a scolded puppy, wondering what he did wrong but I agreed with Dean. I shook my head and scoffed, "Hello?"

"What else is he supposed to say?"

"Jesus Christ, Sam, you just don't get it, do you? The guy's dead you don't just fucking say hello. What if it was Jess, hmm? Would 'hello' be okay then?" I slipped my own jacket on and slammed the door behind me. Fuck, this case was turning everything upside down again.

SUPERNATURAL

I was sitting out on the curb when Dean pulled back in. He leaned against the building as he stared down at me. "What are you doing out here?"

"Sam's an ass."

"Huh," was all Dean commented and then nodded towards the door, "Ready to find out what geek boy dug up?" I didn't answer but followed him back in the motel room anyways. Sam was sitting with his laptop in front of him and seemed relieved to see both of us back at the same time. I wonder if he knew I was right outside this whole time. "Find anything?"

"After three hours I have found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here."

Dean pulled the pamphlets out of my hand and flipped through them while chuckling at Sam, "Well, you know, you think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero point zero would produce better results than that."

"Hilarious," Sam rolled his eyes.

Dean continued to smile, "Sammy, you're just looking in the wrong places, pal."

Sam's annoyance level was climbing because he was getting to the point of a resting bitch face when the lines would appear on his forehead and his mouth did this weird half frown thing. "And what are the right places, Dean?"

"Motel pamphlet rack," Dean smirked, tossing it on the table in front of Sam. "Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison."

Sam studied the pamphlet and looked back up at Dean, "Yeah, right. So what?"

"Keep reading," Dean urged him on like a big kid with a secret.

Sam's face lit up with realization as he got to the last page, "You're kidding."

I cleared my throat slowly drawing both brothers' attentions to me. "I'd just like to point out that I am the one that figured it out and all Dean did was eat lunch without us."

"I did no such thing!" Dean argued.

"Nice try, short one, but the stench of extra onions on your breath says otherwise."

He made a face before breathing into his hand and shrugging.

SUPERNATURAL

Why we couldn't just check it out at night like normal hunters was beyond me. But here we were in some tourist filled guide through the place with the most annoying leader ever. If she smiled one more time I was going to…well, I don't know what I would do but it wasn't going to be pretty. No one could be that happy all the time. She must be medicated, heavily medicated.

"And we're walking. And, here we have one of the museum's most unique and treasured possessions. Thomas Edison's 'spirit phone'. Did you know that Mr. Edison, as well as being one of America's most beloved inventors, was also a devout 'occultist'? Ooh!"

Dean leaned over me to whisper to Sam, "What's with the quote-y fingers?"

"What's with the fucking field trip? Bitch is annoying," I added in and while Dean seemed to agree I swear Sam was enjoying himself. Lord, was this like he was in school? How did he ever get laid?

The guide stopped us by the phone that we had been waiting to see this whole damn time. "He spent years working on this, his final invention, which he was convinced could be used to 'communicate' with the 'dead'. Pretty spooky, huh?" Dean was right there were those fucking quote-y fingers again. She checked her watch and eyes got real big for a second before she claimed everyone's attention again. "And we're walking. We are walking. We're walking." She started to lead the group away and I let out a breath in relief. "And we're not touching that. And we're walking. And stop."

Her voice fucking carried. How did anyone work with that everyday was beyond me. So beyond me. Sam held the EMF reader over the phone and we waited patiently to hear it start beeping while keeping our eyes out for nosy people who would spoil our fun.

"Anything?" Dean questioned. Sam shook his head and stuffed the EMF reader back in his pocket in case anyone came around we would just look like three curious tourists and not stark raving lunatics hunting ghosts. "What do you think?"

Sam stared at the phone for another minute, "Honestly? It kinda looks like an old pile of junk to me. It's not even plugged in."

"Maybe it doesn't work like that," I argued, unwilling to believe that I hadn't really been talking to mom.

Dean must have been on the same page as me as he stated, "Maybe it's like a radio tower, broadcasting the dead all over town. You know, this caller I.D. is one hundred years old, right? Right around the time this thing was built."

Sam still didn't seem convinced, "Yeah, but why would it all of a sudden start working now?"

I crushed my heel down on his toes but with his damn boots on he didn't even feel it. Figures. Dean, as usual, ignored us as he continued with the conversation. "I don't know. But as long as the moldy are calling the freshers around here it's the best reason we've got. So maybe it really is Dad."

Maybe it really was Mom.

SUPERNATURAL

If Dean was talking to Dad then there was no logical reason that I couldn't be talking to Mom. I just hadn't told my brothers. It was one thing to think our hunter of a father found someway to communicate with us but it was something totally different to add in the fact that our civilian mom was doing the same thing. I didn't want them to somehow discredit what was going on by sharing who I had gotten a call from so I told them it was Becca.

Becca calling wasn't out of the realm of possibilities and I'm sure my brothers didn't think twice about it but with my deadline so close I know it raised some red flags when I left to go meet her with the promise I would be back soon. Or at least that's what I told them. Actually, I was sitting one town over in my own motel room waiting for the phone to ring. I hadn't even slept in the last twenty four hours in fear that I would somehow miss the call. The minutes ticked on and I wondered how stupid I was for thinking Mom would call and make everything better but then it happened. The phone rang.

"Mom?"

"Leah."

I felt like crying. I didn't have memories of her like Dean did. I didn't talk about her openly like Sam did. All I knew was from what I was told and the few pictures we actually had. The only way I knew it was her voice was from when we went back to Lawrence a few years ago and she was a spirit in our house. She saved us. And I wasn't soon going to forget how angelic her voice was.

"How do I know it's really you?"

"You have to have faith, my beautiful girl." Tears slipped down my cheeks and I didn't bother to swipe them away. No one was around to see anyways and I needed this release. "How could you do it Leah?"

"Do what?"

"Sell your soul. Do you really want to go to hell?"

"Of course not but Sam was dead, Mom. I couldn't live without him. I did it for him. I did it for Dean."

"But what about you? You have to think about yourself, too. You're my girl, Leah, I don't want to see you go to hell."

"I don't know how to stop it."

"Aren't you scared?"

"Terrified."

"I have another way. A way where you don't go to hell and we can be together again."

"But…"

"This isn't going to affect the terms of your deal. You can come to me, Leah." Spending eternity with my mom or in the depths of hell? It wasn't even really a decision, not after she said both brothers would live. This was the miracle I had been looking for. The grandmother was right, you can't pass it up when it comes. "Leah?"

"What do I have to do?"

SUPERNATURAL

Me and my Cheeto smelling rental car pulled back into the motel parking lot behind the Impala and I have to say I was shocked to see Sam behind the wheel. There were those damn puppy eyes again that had me internally groaning. With a long sigh, I got out of my car to meet him by the door, "Seriously, Sam, you need to smile once in awhile or your face is going to get stuck like that." He made a face as he unlocked the door and I pinched his cheek, "You're just making it worse."

Dean was on Sam's laptop typing so fast I thought his fingers might fly off at any moment. Okay, so that wasn't technically possible but when you have lived my life really anything was possible. He barely glanced up at us as I tossed my duffle onto the closest bed. "What's up?"

"That girl Lanie, her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night," Sam replied, not bothering to take his jacket off. At my confused expression he explained that she was some teenager he met when he checked out the three numbers on his list. Apparently, he was just checking back in with Dean and then was heading back out to check on this chick.

"That sucks," Dean mumbled, not looking up from the laptop. "And Becca? I assume you two didn't cause too much trouble since you're not in jail and I didn't get a call from her brother."

"She's fine," I easily lied, sitting down on the couch next to him to see what he was so concentrated on. It looked like weather reports and honestly I lost interest, deciding to slouch down and close my eyes for a few minutes. I hadn't exactly gotten a lot of sleep in the last twenty four hours and I was waiting for Mom to call back to tell me what exactly I had to do.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew Dean was standing with a stack of papers in his hand, yelling at Sam. "Then believe it! If we get this sucker, it's Miller Time."

"Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean not just send it back to hell, but kill it?" Sam didn't raise his voice like Dean had but the skepticism in his tone was heavy only further infuriating our eldest brother.

They hadn't realized I had woken up yet and as I went to ask what the hell they were talking about Dean replied, "I've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century. Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to hell is Dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work."

"What are we exorcising?" I asked, breaking into their argument as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I suppose ten minutes of rest was better than nothing. And there they go with that super annoying silent conversation again that no one else is privy to but them. I tried to wait them out but when neither answered, I asked again. "Well?"

Dean shared one more look with Sam before finally allowing his gaze to meet my eyes. "The demon that holds your contract. He's here and Dad gave me an exorcism that will send the bastard back to hell once and for all. With the demon gone, so is your contract."

"But we don't know for sure that this will even work," Sam quickly added in and Dean shot him a death glare that he ignored. "Look, it definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon. Maybe it does. I hope it does too, but we gotta be sure."

"Why aren't we sure?" I questioned, still feeling like I missed the major points of this argument. If Dean wanted to go try and kill the demon then I saw no reason why he shouldn't. He could avenge my death because all I had to do was wait for Mom to call and this would all be over for me. There wouldn't be anymore nightmares, no more watching the seconds on the clock tick by, no more worrying about my brothers' safety. I could finally be at peace for once in my life and the idea alone threatened to put a smile on my face.

Sam sighed, "'Cause I don't know what's going on around here. I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits-"

"Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash Sam, people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!" Dean cut in, his words still full of anger. I actually thought he might put Sam through a wall with the fire in his eyes. "You're unbelievable, you know that? I mean for months we've been trying to break this demon deal. Now Dad's about to give us the freaking address and you can't accept it? The man is dead and you're still butting heads with the guy!"

"That is not what this is about," Sam shook his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes making him look younger than he was.

"Guys, stop," I rose to my feet and stood between them in case something else fell from one of their lips and one of them decided to start swinging. I wasn't going to have them arguing on the last day that I was going to be alive, not that I would ever tell them that. "Dean, do what you think is best and Sam, if you need to go see Lanie then go." They both looked ready to say something but I quickly continued, "Dean, if you get yourself killed, I will find someway to bring you back and murder you myself. Sam, I know you've been lonely but remember she is jailbait and no means no."

"And where are you going?" Dean questioned, the annoyance still in his voice but not as angry as he was a few minutes ago.

I looked between them. My brothers. Different in every way possible but connected by blood which meant they would easily kill for the other. I knew it would be hard on them but as long as they had each other they would be all right. They had to be. They were Winchesters after all and death was something we were used to.

"I need to run an errand for Becca."

SUPERNATURAL

Mom had given me the address of an apartment in town of some dude who apparently had the ingredients I would need for the spell she had given me. Most of it was pretty standard items I probably could have found in the back of the Impala like crossroads dirt and yarrow but there were a few I had to admit I had never even heard of before. I scribbled a note to Sam and one to Dean explaining that he had a son, one that he couldn't deny and how sorry I was that I kept it from him. Leaving them both on the seat along with my necklace with mom's wedding ring on it and my gun, I took a deep breath and headed toward the apartment building.

I was surprisingly calm as I climbed the three flights of stairs. It was as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. This was the night that it was all going to be over. It didn't even bother me that this place was so run down that a rat could scurry by at any minute. There it was. Apartment 3C. Staring at it for a second I tried to decide what I should do. Knock? Break in? I mean, if I got killed before I did the spell than this was all pointless anyways because my ass would be going straight to hell.

Settling on knocking, I brought my knuckles up to rap on the door but even with the light pressure the door creaked open. Every nerve in my body was tingling, screaming at me to turn back now, but I was so close that I just couldn't. The apartment was cloaked in shadows the only light coming from the windows that had no blinds on them. Everything was covered in a heavy layer of dust and appeared to be untouched for quite some time. I thought for a moment that I might have had the wrong place but then I saw a cabinet in the corner of the living room with some kind of inscription across the top of it. Whatever ingredients I needed had to be in there.

Pulling the cabinet doors opened, I saw several jars of herbs most with names I couldn't read let alone pronounce. I blew the dust away from the labels and coughed. It wasn't until I had my hand on the first jar that a creak in the floorboards let me know that I wasn't alone. I set the jar carefully back on the shelf and spun around to face whoever was there, silently cursing myself for leaving my gun in the car.

An elderly man with several missing teeth and heavy wrinkles on his face glared at me, "The hell you doing in here? You don't belong here! Get away from my stuff!"

"I'm sorry, sir," I put my hands up in hopes to show him that I meant no harm though if he came at me I had no qualms about kicking an old man's ass. "I knocked but the door was open."

"That's what they all say. Always trying to steal my stuff." He stepped a bit closer but I was cornered with nowhere to go. "Maybe this'll teach them to stop coming in here."

He swung his cane at me hitting me in the side, knocking the air from my lungs for a moment. I grunted in pain as I slipped under his arm, barely dodging another blow. The old man was relentless though and after a few more hits with the cane I realized that the only way I would be able to get to those ingredients would be to kill him. I wanted this to be over with but that was something I just couldn't do. No matter how much he smelled or how old he was, he was still an innocent civilian and I refused to be the cause of his death just to better myself.

"I'll leave," I promised him as I shielded my face in case he tried to swing again. "But you have to give me a chance to get to the door!"

"Hoodlum," he growled, attempting to whack me one more time with his cane but as I tried to step back I stumbled over a stack of old magazines. Trying to brace myself for the fall, I instinctively put my hands out but one ended up going through the glass table. "Get out!"

SUPERNATURAL

Dean was cleaning out the cuts on his face while I sat on one of the beds with a cloth wrapped around my hand waiting to be stitched up. Sam came through the motel room door with his own array of cuts and bruises and I couldn't help but shake my head. It was certainly one hell of a night.

"I see they improved your face," Dean commented, looking at Sam through the mirror in the bathroom.

Sam chuckled, "Right back 'atcha." He nodded to my hand and I held it out to him. He carefully pulled the cloth away and grimaced when he saw a few pieces of glass still stuck in the wound. Okay, sue me, it was going to hurt and we had no painkillers so I wanted to wait for the alcohol to kick in. It didn't.

"So, crocotta, huh?" Dean commented as he passed Sam a pair of tweezers to pull the glass from my hand. I took another swig from the bottle and quickly nodded to Sam to start before I changed my mind. My stomach rolled as he pulled the first piece out and I swallowed hard to keep everything where it was supposed to be. I was not going to end this whirlwind of a night by puking. "That would explain the flies."

"Well, next one you two come across make sure you kill it before it destroys you, okay?" I hadn't meant anything by it except that the Winchesters took one hell of a beating tonight but the looks that washed over my brothers' features told me I was going to need more alcohol.

Dean sat on the bed across from Sam and me, ready to stitch my hand when Sam was done. "I'm sorry it wasn't Dad, Le. I wanted - needed it to be so bad. I figured if it was anyone he would be the one to have the answer."

"It's fine," I tried to desperately brush off this conversation before it totally took over our night but Dean had a different idea in mind. He at least waited for Sam to step into the bathroom and the shower to start running before he spoke.

"It's not."

"Dean-"

He took my hand and laid it on his knee while he threaded the needle. "You're staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just…" I know he was using my wound as a distraction and I was glad to give it to him but damn that hurt. "I want to fix this. It's my job to fix it. And I don't know how." He tugged the first knot tight and started on the next. "I'm scared for you, Leah."

To hear my eldest brother, my hero, the one guy that the supernatural checked for under their beds admit that he was scared was too much. I needed him to be strong but understood why he couldn't be. If roles were reversed I'd be tearing the world apart until I found a way to save him. I could have tried to comfort him with lies that we would find a way to save me but after his honesty he deserved nothing less than the truth.

"I'm scared too," I confessed and I kept my gaze on Dean's steady hands sewing me up as I spoke. "I was so scared that I was ready to go tonight just to get the waiting over with. Every time I hear the clock tick it is one less second I have to live. You know, it wasn't Becca who I thought called me." I paused to take a deep breath. I had all intense and purposes in keeping my night to myself but there was something freeing about being so open with each other. "It was Mom." Dean froze for a brief second before tying off the last stitch and cutting the string. "God, she was perfect. Everything I could have ever imagined her saying when I needed her to. She even promised a happily ever after and that's when I realized it wasn't real. It couldn't be. Not with the last name of Winchester."

I couldn't tell him that I would have had to kill that man in order to complete my spell because deep down if it wasn't for him I would have done it. I just didn't want his blood on my hands. Sam stepped out of the bathroom and just like we had done for our whole lives the masks went back on, hiding our emotions from one another. We finished the rest of the bottle of liquor and played a few hands of poker at the small worn table. It was full of fake smiles and forced sibling banter but it was nice to pretend even for one night that everything was going to be okay.

The room was cloaked in shadows the only light coming from the clock. I blinked a couple of times trying to adjust to the dark and could have sworn I saw someone putting their boots on. Squinting, I looked over to the occupied bed and realized it was Sam since his feet were hanging off the end. "Dean?" I whispered.

He hushed me as he grabbed what I thought might have been the keys to the Impala. "Go back to sleep, angel. Everything's going to be fine."

I was getting ready to argue the fact that he probably shouldn't call me angel anymore with me going to hell and all but then it hit me that he actually called me angel. I couldn't tell you the last time I heard the nickname from him and when I heard the Impala peal out I knew for sure this wasn't going to end well.