The phone was ringing. Zoe cracked open an eye and glared darkly at the offending object, hoping it would understand the thin ice it was threading. No such luck and it continued to ring.

Cursing she answered it, too tired to check the caller ID.

"Door to Door Dildo Delivery, no job too big or too small."

The other line was silent for a moment, and Zoe considered hanging up when she heard the other person make a small noise of confusion and alarm.

"What d'ya want?" she asked, hoping that whoever it was would get the idea and hurry up.

Surely if it was important they'd tell her, or hang up if it wasn't.

"Zoe?"

Sam. Zoe adjusted her position and closed her eyes.

"It's six in the morning, Sam," she groaned, "This better be important."

"Anna Milton," Sam said.

Zoe frowned. Anna? Why would they want Anna...unless...right. November.

"What about her?" Zoe asked, reaching for her notebook.

"Does she sound familiar?" Sam asked, or rather demanded.

Zoe glanced at Anna's profile, "Yes. Anything else?"

"Not right now," Sam said, "But we'll call if we find anything else."

Zoe grunted, and pulled up her blanket, beginning to get comfortable in her bed again.

"How are you holding up?" Sam asked finally.

She was silent for a moment, as she decided how to go about this question. Lie? Tell the truth?

"Fine," Zoe said.

Physically and emotionally...well mostly emotionally. Zoe still had nightmares, but at least she managed to get the anti-possession tattoo.

"Listen," Sam said, "If you need anything, I'm right here, okay?"

Zoe nodded, "Yah. I know, anything else before I return to the sleep you oh so cruelly woke me up from?"

"No, sorry," Sam said, and hung up.

Zoe placed her phone back on the nightstand and went back to sleep. Gabriel had been MIA for the past few days, but Zoe didn't care. The archangel had Trickster duties to attend to, and Zoe was already doing better. Bobby had been teaching her the basics of car engines, after deciding that the teenager needed to be doing something rather than mope around doing nothing. So far, Zoe learned how to change tires and oil.

Of course, usually when Zoe was working on a car with the help of books, and Bobby wasn't around, Gabriel took it upon himself to help her. And by help, I mean that Gabriel would simple sit down and go on and on about his day, and generally not be any use. Or simply suggest something that would prove of little use.

When Zoe finally woke up, Bobby was talking with a pair of hunters in the dining room. Zoe assumed them to be father and son judging by the age difference. The son was in his early twenties or late teens, and the father possibly in his fifties. Both wore what seemed to be the typical hunter gear. Zoe wondered why it was customary for hunters to wear those green military jackets. It seemed hunters had their own culture. But the boy tho…Tall. Strong (Zoe could definitely see the beginnings of a ripping hot body).

She slapped herself. No. No boys. She had enough with just the Winchesters. The last thing she needed was to start crushing on some hunter's kid who would probably just bring her down, right? Bye bye life, as Dean would say.

The young man smiled in her direction, a smile which Zoe returned before heading to the kitchen. She glanced at the pantry, and deemed it enough to serve four people, and poked her head back in the dining room. Yes. She was blushing furiously, and by some miracle, she managed not to stutter.

"Have you guys had breakfast yet?" she asked, "Bobby? Bobby's guests?"

"What d'ya got?" Bobby asked.

"Bacon and Egg tacos," Zoe said, "with some homemade flour tortillas."

Earlier in the week, she made flour tortillas after complaining about the lack of Mexican food in the Northern United States.

"Make me four," Bobby said, and the guests seconded the notion.

Zoe gave them a thumbs up and got to work. As she stirred the bacon, the boy appeared walked into the kitchen, and leaned against the counter.

"That looks delicious," he said.

Zoe didn't turn, mostly because there was a frickin good looking boy behind her, and said, "Trust me. It tastes even better. What's your name?"

"Jason," he said, "Yours?"

"Zoe," she held out her free hand, "Pleasure to meet you Jason."

Jason was silent for a moment, and the awkwardness in the room rose to startling heights, until Zoe decided to speak. If the boy was going to be here, he might as well make himself useful. Cute or not, Zoe refused to have lazy people in the kitchen with her while she was cooking.

"So are you going to just stand there and look at my ass or is there a reason why you graced me with your presence?"

The first part was definitely true, especially since Jason had turned beet red at having been caught, and looked away. He reminded her of a younger dorkier version of Dean Winchester, one who still got nervous when he talked to women, apparently.

"Just wanted to ask if you needed any help," he asked, "If not, I can just-"

Zoe placed the spoon in his hand, "Stir, don't let it stick, and mush it into little pieces."

"Yes ma'am."

A few minutes later, the two of them exited the kitchen bearing food, which the adults took happily, praising Zoe for her delicious food. Said teenager grinned proudly as she ate, keeping small chit chat with Jason. He had a similar childhood to the boys. Raised into the life, third generation hunter, moved a lot, never had much of a social life. Currently he was telling her about a nest of vampires he and his father had hunted down years ago.

Apparently that had been Jason's first hunt and had somehow managed to set the entire building aflame. The vampires were killed of course, and Jason escaped with only minor burns and the greatest first hunt story ever. In his opinion at least. Zoe was a bit unimpressed by it, not that she said anything about it though. She herself had only been on a few hunts herself, but compared to what the Winchesters faced every day, it was nothing.

"Well Bobby, Miss Zoe," Jason's father said, "Thank you for the lovely breakfast, but we must get back on the road."

Jason lingered a bit after his father, and Zoe placed too much focus on picking up the plates and taking them back to the kitchen.

"Hey, so…I'll call you," he said, "If…you know…if I need anything for the case."

Zoe raised an eyebrow, "For a djinn? Right."

Jason looked away blushing, and Zoe took pity on him. She took a napkin and wrote something on it before tossing it to him. He caught it easily, glancing at her then at the napkin before pocketing it.

"If you need help," she said and returned to washing the grime off of the plates.

The redhead smiled and left, giving her a small two finger wave as he did. Zoe turned around to see Bobby watching her amused.

"What?" she asked.

He shrugged, and returned to what he was doing, muttering "Teenagers."

The present teenager huffed and returned to washing the dishes. Well, it wasn't her fault that there had been a very cute guy a few minutes ago under their very roof. A very…very cute guy.

Bobby left a couple of hours later for a job in the Dominican Republic, leaving Zoe alone in the living room, giving a very smug looking archangel to take this as his chance to appear. He placed his arm over the couch and crossed his legs as he smirked mischievously.

"What do you want?" Zoe asked, sipping a Dr. Pepper.

"You like him," he crooned.

She groaned, "Gabriel, I swear on Gallifrey, if you try anything-"

Gabriel placed a hand over his heart, looking offended, "What sort of Guardian Angel do you take me for?"

"Your will was a frickin pornvideo," She pointed out, "I know exactly what sort of guardian angel you are."

"Just because I want you to hook up with a nice guy," he argued, "that you clearly like-"

Zoe tossed a pillow in his direction, "I will murder you. I know how to."

"Ooh, kinky," Gabriel said, "Does Jason know about your nau- Hey! Hey!"

The empty can of soda hit the wall and clattered to the ground. Zoe shook her head, blushing furiously. Of all the archangels she could have had, she had to get the corrupted one. Figures. Zoe wondered if she'd have these problems if she'd been stuck with Michael, or Raguel, or Saraqael, or Remiel.

"Why me?" she muttered.

Gabriel grinned, "You know you love me kiddo,"

"That's because you're Gabriel," she said, "Everyone loves you."

"As they should," Gabriel said, puffing out his chest.

Gabriel turned on the TV and began to surf the channels, without the use of remote control or the lifting of the literal finger. The two settled on watching Doctor Who, starring Gabriel the Trickster, and Zoe was sure she ruptured something from sheer laughter.

…

The next morning, Zoe woke to the sound of voices. Instinctively, she reached for the iron poker by the couch, and stood, keeping the poker ready.

It was just the Winchesters…and Anna. The redhead smiled hesitantly when she saw her staring, and Zoe turned to Dean for an explanation.

"This is Anna," Dean said, waving a hand at the redhead.

"I know who she is," Zoe said, "What is she doing here?"

The Winchesters frowned at her hostility, Dean becoming defensive at Zoe's tone. Sam looked between the two, unsure of what to say.

"We have demons on our tail," Dean explained, "Where's Bobby?"

"The Dominican," Zoe said and returned to the matter at hand, "Why did you bring her here? Demons aren't the only thing after her, you know."

"You know about her?" Sam asked, frowning.

Honestly, Zoe wasn't sure how these boys survived ten seasons.

"TV Show, Sam," Zoe shook her head in disbelief, "Angels. Cas and Uriel are due any minute now and I'd rather not deal with Uriel. The guy makes Lucifer look nice."

Sam and Dean shared a look while Anna studied her closely, "You're Zoe."

The teenager saluted her before gathering her things (i.e iron poker), muttering about angels and quiet time. Anna glanced uncertainly at Dean who gave her a reassuring smile.

"Zoe's been going through a hard time," he explained, "It's best if we just leave her alone for a while."

Zoe moved to the dining room where Sam was looking through Anna's files, and tilted her head at one of the files before taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

"How are you holding up?" Sam asked glancing at her.

Zoe shrugged, "Fine."

Sam didn't seem convinced, "Right."

"Tis the truth," she shrugged and took a bite from her apple.

Sam sat down next to her and faced her, "Talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about," she insisted, "I'm fine."

Cue don't lie to me bitchface, "Zoe, you where possessed by a demon."

"And?"

Well she had been holding up fine. Gabriel popped in constantly and he always had some new story to tell her. She was…coping.

"I've been possessed by a demon before," Sam said, "You don't have to lie to me."

"Meg didn't have half the things Samhain did," Zoe pointed out, "And I'm fine. It's not something I couldn't handle. Besides, Meg's nice...once you get to know her better in season seven I think…you know what? Ignore me. I don't' want a blue box to appear and have an alien tell me to shut up."

Sam gave her a strange look, shook his head and turned his attention to Anna's files, letting the subject go for now, and frowned, picking up a paper and compared it to something else. Zoe noticed and rested her cheek on his arm to see the paper and frowned too.

"Dean!" Sam called, "We found something!"

The elder Winchester arrived in no time, no doubt bounding two steps at a time to see what sort of information they had dug, and voiced this upon arriving at the dining room.

"Not much," Sam admitted, "Her parents were, uh, Rich and Amy Milton - a church deacon and a housewife."

Dean didn't seem very impressed, "Riveting."

"Yeah," Sam agreed before taking a file from Zoe's hand, "But there is something here in the report. Turns out this latest psych episode wasn't her first."

That got his attention, "No?"

"When she was 2 1/2," Zoe said, pointing to the file, "she'd get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn't her real Dad."

"Who was? The plumber, hmm? A little snaking the pipes?"

Zoe and Sam gave him identical and synchronized unamused bitchfaces.

"That is creepy," Dean said, "Do not to that."

"Dude, you're confusing reality with porn again," Sam said and Zoe shook her head.

"Anna is an angel," Zoe said.

That got the boys' attention as they faced Zoe. Ah. She loved it when she knew something they didn't, and had every opportunity to tell them. This was one of those times.

"An angel?" Dean asked.

Zoe nodded, "She Fell from Heaven ages ago, willingly ripped off her Grace to escape."

"Why?" Sam asked.

Zoe leaned back with a sigh, "Have you seen angels? They make Sherlock Holmes look like a complete drama queen. Anna felt emotions, and emotions are a huge no in Heaven."

"But an angel?" Dean asked.

Zoe shrugged, "Hey. S'far as I know, those are her charges. Lord knows what else she did."

"Well, why don't you just ask me to my face?"

The three of them whipped around to see the familiar red head at the doorframe and Ruby right behind her.

"Nice job watching her," Zoe said.

"I'm watching her," the demon pointed out.

Zoe looked like she was about to say something else, but Sam gave her a stern look causing her to close her mouth with a scowl.

"Is it true?" Anna asked facing Zoe. "I'm an angel?"

Zoe crossed her arms and shrugged, "According to the show. Anael if I remember correctly."

"Anything else?" Dean asked eagerly.

Zoe tapped her chin and began to rummage through the papers until she found her notebook and flipped through the pages.

"ehm…grace created a tree," she glared at Sam who tried to look over her shoulder, "No peeking, moose. Rules are rules. Um…grace isn't there. Someone extracts it from the tree."

"Who?" Dean again. Honestly that boy.

"Uriel."

...

Zoe spent the rest of her day in her room, mostly to avoid Ruby and Anna. Gabriel didn't show, not that Zoe blamed him. He never liked Ruby, and the demon would probably be able to sense an archangel's presence and instantly alert the Winchesters. Zoe did not want to explain why she had an angel in her room and she doubted the Winchesters would be happy about her withholding that information.

No one knew what to do, and it was partially her fault. Normally, Pamela would have come, and instead Zoe found herself explaining to Anna her past as an angel. At some point sarcasm must have slipped into her tone because Anna was speaking to Dean and Zoe was left doodling on her sketchbook. The boys left to check out the oak tree, and maybe try to shed more light on Anna's angelic past. Zoe opted to stay behind.

She sighed, rubbing a finger over her necklace: a simple silver chain and a sigil. Rarely did she have it over her shirt, and when she did, Zoe thanked her luck that the Winchesters simply accepted her answer of sentiment. In reality, the necklace had been a gift from Gabriel, a sort of warning that she was under his protection. A supernatural Keep Out sign if you will. After the Halloween fiasco, Zoe confirmed that Gabriel is a mother bear who would rip any threat to shreds. She did not doubt that Samhain had been smote immediately after he had been sent back to hell.

Her dream that night was uneventful, or uneventful in the sense that it was devoid of nightmares and nosy archangels, surprising actually. After Jason's visit, Gabriel made certain that Zoe knew exactly what the ginger was up to, and unfortunately, the archangel was very detailed in his report.

Bobby arrived a few days before thanksgiving. Zoe had taken it upon herself to make thanksgiving dinner, and thus had bought the necessary ingredients. Thankfully, Gabriel was genuine help and taught Zoe how to properly cook a delicious turkey along with traditional Mexican food, like tamales. This meant that when Bobby arrived, he found Zoe in the kitchen, piles of dough beside her and raw tamales in a large pot on the table.

"We having a party, or something?" he asked as he looked around.

"Thanksgiving dinner," Zoe said as she placed pieces of pork into one tamale, "Think of it as a thanks for letting me tag along."

Bobby examined one of the tamales, and looked at Zoe, "Isn't it a bit too early?"

Zoe laughed, "Trust me, when you're making tamales, it's best if you start early, especially if you're going to feed two bottomless pits."

They placed the larger pot in the freezer to save for thanksgiving while Zoe kept an eye on the pot with the soon to be ready tamales.

"Where'd you learn how to make this?" he asked.

"My mom," Zoe said, "She figured I was old enough to know how to make them."

They made small chit chat after that, and as neither had much to do, retreated to their own small corners of the world. Garth dropped by to say hi later that day, greeting them both with a tight hug. Zoe had the sneaking suspicion that Garth liked her because she readily welcomed his hugs with enthusiasm. Garth left the Singer Salvage yard with a bag full of tamales that day.

…

"Swear on the TARDIS, Dean," Zoe growled, "If you do not come for thanksgiving I will get Castiel to zap you here."

"Fine."

Zoe fist bumped Gabriel, "And tell Sam I said hi!" Dean hung up, and Zoe faced Gabriel, hugging him tightly, "First thanksgiving away from home with the new family."

"You'll be fine," Gabriel assured, "Anything happens-"

"Which it won't," Zoe pointed out, and Gabriel gave her a look, "Yes mom. Can I go now?"

The archangel ruffled her hair, "I'll see you tonight, kiddo. No boys."

"You're such a parent, Gabriel," Zoe said, slapping her hand away, "I'll be fine. Now go. Shoo. I'm sure there's some jerk out there who's just waiting to be turned into a turkey."

"You know, that's actually a good idea," Gabriel left, no doubt to test out this new prank on a poor unsuspecting asshole.

The Winchesters arrived the next day on Thanksgiving, and right on time too. Zoe was beginning to think they wouldn't come, despite Bobby assuring her that they will. The day went off without a hitch and Zoe had the suspicion Gabriel had something to do with it.

The day went off without a hitch. The turkey was delicious, surprising since it was the first time she ever cooked turkey. It was a very American breakfast with many American dishes including the universally loved gravy. It wasn't much, but it was enough to fill three adult men, two of which had bottomless pits for stomachs.

Zoe was regaled by the many hunts that the boys were on. Not many, most of them were ghost hunts, and one wendigo. Sam silently thanked her for the break, though Dean seemed more eager to return to hunting, not that they let him. First they wanted to make sure that he got a good night's rest before leaving the next day.

Sam found Zoe in the porch swing that afternoon, looking up at the stars, and joined her.

"Sammy," she moaned and leaned against his shoulder, "I want to go home."

Sam said nothing and patted her shoulder affectionately. They sat in silence, looking up at the stars and tracking the constellations. At some point Dean turned the TV to a funny channel, his and Bobby's laughter echoed out from the living room. Zoe sighed.

"Back home," she said softly, "We never got to see the stars because of light pollution. I'd be lucky to see a star much less a constellation, and then here, it's stars everywhere." She turned to look at her hands, examining them before saying, "I'm never going home, am I?"

Sam didn't answer, weighing his answer, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged, "It could've been worse. I can think of worse places to be stuck in. Sherlock, boring when you think about how boring the life there has to be. Walking Dead. I don't do zombies. Supernatural is pretty tame when you think about it."

"Tame?" Sam repeated.

Zoe nodded, "You could be in a post-apocalyptic world fighting zombies and trying to survive. I do not want to be a zombie or zombie fighter."

Sam considered it, "Touche."

"So I met this guy," she said, "And he's really nice and sweet. Jason O'Doole's his name, being a complete piece of hotness is his game." She buried her head in her arms, and glanced at Sam, "Tell me I'm an idiot, Sammy."

"Why?" Sam asked, "I think liking people is completely normal."

"I'm a girl from another universe with two adult men who hunt monsters for a living," Zoe said, "Nothing in my life is normal. And he's a hunter. Hunters aren't known for having long lifespans….but he's nice."

"then you should definitely date him," Dean said from the hallway.

Both of them turned around, identical frowns on their faces and Dean shrugged casually, "Carpe Diem, lady. And use protection."

"Dean Winchester," Zoe said calmly, "Do not make me throw my shoe at you."

"What's his name?" Dean asked, leaning against the door with a beer in hand.

"Jason," Zoe said, "Jason O'Doole."

Dean frowned for a moment, trying to place the name, "O'Doole…yeah. Dad hunted with his father way back. Great guy." He made Zoe move over and sat on the porch, so she was now sandwhiched between both Winchesters, "So you plan on seeing him again?"

"Why am I taking relationship advice from Dean Winchester of all people?" she wondered aloud, and Dean placed a hand over his heart with a wounded look.

"I'm a great role model," Dean argued causing Sam to snort in amusement.

"I am," Dean said.

Zoe patted his arm, "Sure, you keep thinking that, Deanerino."

The older Winchester crossed his arms and grumbled angrily inciting another bark of laughter from Sam. They chatted for the rest of the night, joined by Bobby soon after who told Zoe about the antics the Winchester boys did as children. Things Zoe learned: Sam had an imaginary friend and Dean was a little shit. They caused John at least three heart attacks every week.

Every year for thanksgiving, her family would go to their neighbors and have, what Zoe considered, an American Thanksgiving dinner. Usually said dinner was followed by a nice Mexican grill with fajitas. For a moment, she could pretend that she was still back home. If she tried hard enough, she could imagine she was back home and the boys were simply family friends that dropped by, Bobby too.

But it was simply that. Just an imagine. She wasn't going home, not anytime soon. Zoe sometimes wondered if her soul would stay in this universe, or if it would find itself back home where it belonged. Gabriel certainly didn't know where she was going if she died. He was just a messenger, and her guardian.

Zoe absently wondered if Gabriel would take her somewhere familiar that she liked. Often times he would leave an image of her behind – if Bobby was still there- and take her to some unexplored place on earth. If nothing else, Gabriel was her best friend, the one remnant of home that she still had. That and he kept Michael at bay. Now that the fourth archangel had established himself as her protector, Michael could not touch her, and she doubted Zachariah would even try.

As promised, the archangel appeared in her room, snapping his fingers to take her to a small place in Nevada where she could see the stars. There she retold what happened at the dinner and the stupid things Dean would do and how visibly mortified Sam looked.

This might not have been her home, but it damn well was close to it being home.

…

A few days after thanksgiving, consisting of Sam insisting Dean needed sleep and of Dean insisted he didn't need sleep, Zoe found herself back on the road with the boys. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed actually travelling with the boys and being on the road. She sang along with Dean to Metallica and sometimes Sam would join in. For the next two weeks they did nothing but hunt creature after creature nonstop.

They were parked on an edge of a road to sleep. Zoe was curled up tightly in the backseat sound asleep, as was Sam in the passenger seat. Unfortunately, Dean seemed to have lost the ability to sleep like a proper human being and was looking through some files and cases. The paper shuffling brought Sam out of his sleep.

He turned to his older brother with a slightly confused look, "What are you doing?"

Dean didn't look up from the papers, balancing the flashlight between his neck and shoulder. "What's it look like I'm doing?"

"Like you're looking for a job," Sam answered catching a glimpse of the paper.

"Yahtzee," Dean said, placing a file back in a folder.

Sam sat up, shifting his body so he could face his brother, "We just finished a job like two hours ago."

"Adrenaline's still pumping, I guess," Dean said, and held up three files, "So, what do you think... Cedar Rapids, Tulsa, or Chi-Town?"

"I am all for working," Sam said, "I really am. But you got us chasing cases nonstop for like a month now. We need sleep."

Dean didn't seem to care and said, "Yeah, we can sleep when we're dead."

"You're exhausted, Dean," Sam pointed out, not buying into his brother's façade.

"I'm good," Dean insisted.

Sam raised an eyebrow unconvinced, "No, you're not. You're running on fumes, and you can't run forever."

"I'm not running from anything, and are we seriously doing this now?" Dean asked, glancing pointedly at the sleeping teenager in the back.

"From what you told me," Sam said, "Zoe knows, so she's not exactly a good excuse, or are we pretending that our small talk never happened?"

"Stratton, Nebraska," Dean held up the article triumphantly and skimmed through it, "Farm town. A man gets hacked to death in a locked room inside a locked house. No signs of forced entry.

"Sounds like a ghost," Sam guessed.

"Yes, it does," Dean agreed as he turned on the Impala, waking Zoe with the hum of the engine.

"Fucking hell," she groaned and glared at Dean, "No jobs. I'm tired."

"Boohoo," Dean said, "I'll get you coffee."

Zoe rolled over, pulling her blanket tighter around herself, muttering of how coffee can only get you so far. Sam glanced back to see her going through her music, before stuffing her phone back in her pocket.

They arrived at the farm house around six o'clock, and began exploring. The house was up for sale, a few weeks after the police investigation and the inspection. Sam hadn't found any sign that the house had been sold. Zoe seemed more interested in whether or not the small cinnamon melts would last her until lunch.

Naturally, upon arriving to the house, the Winchesters picked the lock and walked right in.

"Boy," Dean said looking around, "three bedrooms, two baths, and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes."

They entered the kitchen and began opening cabinets, until Dean spotted a rectangular indentation on the wall.

"Hey, check this out," he said and knocked on the wall, showing it was hollow.

It's probably a dumbwaiter," Zoe said, "All these old houses had them. They probably took it off because they didn't need it or something."

"Know-it-all," Dean muttered.

Zoe tossed a small wrapper at his head, earning herself a glare from Sam that she ignored. She shivered, the hair on her neck standing up. Someone was watching her. This sudden realization shot a shard of ice cold fear as she remembered her time with Samhain. Rubbing her arms, she hurried after the Winchesters.

They left the kitchen and checked what Zoe assumed to be Bill Gibson's bedroom. It was empty, as was typical with a lot of empty homes, void of furniture or anything interesting.

"Well, no bloodstains," Dean noted, "fresh coat of paint, it's a bunch of bubkes."

"Needle's all over the place," Sam noted as the EMP whined loudly.

"Yeah," Dean said glancing outside, "power lines."

"Great," Sam muttered.

"Maybe we should go," Zoe said, "This place is giving me the- OH HOLY TARDIS OF GALLIFREY!"

Dean burst out laughing, after the dollhead he tossed in Zoe's direction fell at her feet. With a cry of disgust, she kicked the doll away from her. Sam gave Dean a small bitchface, and Dean countered it with a casual shrug.

"Must have been left behind, "Sam said, glancing briefly at the doll head.

"By who?" Zoe asked, "Unless Bill Gibson likes to play with doll heads."

Sam shrugged and glanced out the window, and froze, "Uh-oh."

"I thought you said this place was still for sale," Dean said as a small car parked outside the house, followed by a large moving truck.

"Apparently, it's not," Sam said and the three of them headed back, Zoe using the back entrance so she wouldn't blow the boy's cover.

She wrapped herself tighter with the blanket, and didn't move until the boys came back a few minutes later after getting the family to leave. They found nothing of use in the house and decided to check on the housekeeper, who found Gibson and alerted the police.

Zoe was dropped off at the nearest diner to get breakfast while they talked to the housekeeper, Mrs. Curry. She ordered herself a nice big breakfast, using Dean's credit card. As she waited, sipping her warm coffee contently, her phone rang.

"Frank's Taxidermy, you snuff 'em, we stuff 'em," She greeted without missing a beat. She could hear someone laughing on the other line, and grinned, "Jason. How are ya, boy?"

"Drove all day with Dad," Jason said, "How do you think I am?"

Zoe winced, "Try listening to the best of Metallica on repeat."

Jason laughed, "Listen, we're hunting something. Bobby thought you might know what it was."

Zoe blinked. Bobby thought she could be useful? Well that was new.

"Sure thing," Zoe said, "The all-powerful Zoe knows all and sees all."

"It's canine," Jason said, "And it eats humans, especially children. We already ruled out skinwalker, werewolf, hellhound."

Zoe frowned for a moment, as she thought about it, "I think it's a nahual."

Jason paused for a moment as he tried to pronounce the word. Zoe took pity and repeated it, "A nauhual."

"It's a Mexican shapeshifter of sorts," Zoe said, "My dad said that they were shamans, or witch doctors, who could turn into any animal they chose, but they prefer large dogs, and sitting down can be as big as two meters. Sort of like a giant skinwalker. To kill it, you have to chase it, and leave a crucifix every fifteen steps. Once you leave three crosses shoot it, and it will revert back to its original form. According to the internet," she typed a few things on her phone, "They don't like salt, or you can burn them too."

"Mexican witch doctor that is also a giant skinwalker," Jason summarized, "Find it. Chase it, and leave a cross every fifteen steps, and shoot. They don't like salt, and kill it with fire. Gotcha. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Zoe said, "Call me when you kill it, or if it works."

"Will do."

Zoe ended the call and placed her phone back in her pocket. The waitress brought her food, asked if she needed anything else and left. Sam and Dean arrived later with information on the house and its tenants. According to the housekeeper, Gibson had a daughter that killed herself in the house before the housekeeper worked there. So it was a case. Zoe was hoping that they'd be able to take a break for a while.

And the housekeeper heard rats too, but never saw any. So they were dealing with a murderous, and very peeved, ghost.

Nothing said good morning like a nice evil ghost hunt.

…

They spent the rest of the day packing salt rounds, and in Zoe's case, sleeping. She took over the queen bed while the boys did what they did during their off-time in a hunt. Dean decided to teach her how to sharpen a knife, despite Zoe's insistence that she was happy staying three feet away from a sharp object thank you very much. She caved in the end when she had absolutely nothing else to do.

They returned to the house at night, hoping to find the ghost, or hopefully whatever creature it was that was there, and kill it. Unfortunately for them, the homeowners had other plans.

"Crap," Dean groaned as they pulled up to the house, most of its lights on, "So, what now?"

"We could tell them the truth," Zoe suggested, and Sam agreed.

"Really?" Dean asked, wondering if they were serious.

"No, not really," Zoe said, "What are you? Crazy? No we wait until we have a good excuse to break into their home."

They didn't even need to wait for long when they heard a girl scream.

"Found the excuse," Dean said, climbing out of the Impala.

Zoe took her handgun and followed suit. The door opened on the first knock revealing a very angry looking Suburban Dad.

"We heard screams," Dean said pushing his way in, "What's going on?"

"Oh, you two!" Suburban Dad said upon recognizing Sam and Dean, "Did you touch my daughter?!"

Dean looked at the other teenager in the room and frowned, offended at the very thought, "What? No."

"Who are you guys?" Suburban Dad demanded.

"Relax, please," Sam placated, "You have a ghost."

"A ghost," Suburban Dad repeated.

"I told you!" Teenager Girl cried out.

"It's the girl!" Young Child added.

"Both of you, relax," Suburban Dad demanded, "What are you guys playing?"

"Your family is in danger," Dean interrupted, "You need to get out of the house now."

The light's flickered and Adult Male looked up, "What the hell?"

Dean jumped straight to action, "Nobody move!"

The dog, who Zoe assumed to be the pretty one from earlier howled.

Young Child heard too and shouted, "Buster!"

The dog howled again and the men left, leaving Zoe alone with the mother, the daughter and the brother. She gave them a reassuring smile, adrenaline pumping as she tried to appear calm. No use freaking out right now, or she'd die.

"Got salt?" she asked.

"In the kitchen," the mother said.

"Stay here," Zoe said as she made a dash for the salt, pushing aside bags of flour until she found the salt and dragged the bag back to the living room.

"Name's Zoe," She said as she began to pour the salt in a large circle around the family.

"These are Kate and Danny," the mother said placing a hand over her children, "I'm Susan."

"Well, Susan, Kate, and Danny," Zoe said, "I promise we'll get out of this alive."

"What makes you say that?" Kate asked.

Zoe pulled up a chair and nodded to the door, "Those guys over there, they're considered the best in their field."

"What do they do?" Kate asked.

"They hunt ghosts, werewolves, vampires," Zoe counted off, "if it kills people, they kill it."

"Like Scooby Doo?" Danny asked excitedly.

Zoe nodded, "Exactly."

"And you?" Kate asked, noting her use of 'they', "What do you do?"

Zoe shrugged, "I'm the spunky sidekick who's only there for comic relief."

Dean entered the house, looking absolutely livid, followed by Sam, Brian (suburban dad), and Ted (adult male). The hunters exchanged a look, Sam making sure everyone else was safe before they dealt with the task at hand. Currently the problem was getting the men to believe that ghosts were real. Sam started a fire in the fireplace in case they needed to burn something.

"Whatever's outside," Dean assured, "it can't get in this circle. As long as the salt line is unbroken, this is the safest place to be."

"Safe from ghosts?" Brian asked in disbelief.

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Dean replied.

"Okay," Brian said throwing his hands up, "I'm not listening to this anymore. Come on. I got to get my family out of here. Let's go."

Dean stood, blocking his path, "Nobody's going anywhere until we kill this thing."

"Sir, please," Sam placated, reluctant to have a fight on his hands, "This is what we do. Just...trust us."

Zoe picked at her fingers, glancing at the men before looking at Kate with a 'this is what I live with.' Kate gave her a small smile, before glancing at her mother. Zoe turned her attention to the boys who were discussing what they were going to do next. Dean suggested the attic to see if there was something that they could find something about who their ghost was. Zoe suggested the daughter who hung herself as she was a possible choice.

"You want to babysit? I'll check it out," Sam suggested. Zoe glanced at the chair she was sitting on and decided she was not going up an attic where a ghost might get her.

"Look," Ted said, having had enough, "I don't care who hung themselves where. Maybe something is going on here, but-"

"It's a spirit, man," Dean interrupted.

"No, it's just some backwoods hillbilly bitch," Ted argued, "and I'm not about to sit around here waiting for her to go all Deliverance on my ass."

"Well, nobody's leaving the house," Dean pointed out.

Ted, unfortunately, seemed to be the kind of man that refused to back down and crossed his arms, "Stop me."

"Listen, man," Dean said, "I've got a gun. You don't get your ass back in that circle, you're gonna have yourself a third hole."

Zoe waved her small hand gun and gave it to Dean, not trusting herself with a weapon when she was shaking. Yes. She was scared, so sue her. Dean's done this every day all his life. She was but an innocent fan who bit off more than she could chew.

Once Sam assured himself that Dean wasn't going to give Ted a third hole, he left.

After a long tense silence, Zoe almost cheered when Ted decided to speak, "Hey, Fonzie," he said crossing his arms, "Question for you. This indestructible force field made out of salt... Have to be kosher stuff, or what?"

"Knock it off, Ted," Susan warned.

Thud.

Zoe' heart skipped a beat and she looked at Dean who raised the gun, eyes glued to the door. It creaked open, and a disheveled dirty girl wearing nothing but rags walked towards them.

"All right, everybody stay calm," Dean asurred, placing himself between the family, "She's a ghost. She can't come in the circle."

The girl continued to approach, stopping at the edge of the salt line. Zoe's breath caught when she realized the girl held a knife in her hand. Their not-ghost girl stepped over the line, and for a moment Zoe froze.

Kate voiced everyone's thoughts while hiding behind her parents, "I thought you said ghosts couldn't cross the circle."

"They can't," Zoe said, reaching for the iron poker, "She's not a ghost."

The girl let out a feral screech and lunged towards Dean, slashing away at her knife. The gun fired twice and the girl cried in pain. Zoe managed to slash her arm, dropping the knife which Dean lunged for.

Now the girl turned to Zoe, taking her in for a moment and growled. Zoe gulped, gripping the poker tighter in a poor attempt to stop shaking.

It wasn't working.

The girl lunged and Zoe swung the poker, catching the girl in the head who fell the ground, unmoving. Breathing heavily, she turned to Dean, nudged the girl and checked for any life signs. He found none.

"You killed her…"

Zoe's heart jumped at the voice, forgetting for a moment that the family was still here. The poker clattered to the ground, and Dean immediately stood in front of her, holding her shoulders while trying to look at her.

"Hey. Hey," he said, shaking her slightly, "Don't you dare faint on me. We need all hands on deck still. Alright?"

Zoe took a deep breath and nodded. Yes, everything was fine, all in check. All she needed was to calm to calm down, and not have a full blown panic attack. Thankfully for her, Sam arrived quickly after, no doubt after hearing the commotion. His eyes moved from Dean, to Zoe and then to the dead girl at their feet. He and Dean shared a small conversation in which the eldest brother made a look of disgust but knelt to drag the body away.

The family huddled together, keeping to themselves.

"Is everyone alright?" he asked, turning to the huddled family.

Shaken a bit, but otherwise fine, the family nodded and Sam turned to Zoe who also nodded. Dean returned quickly, reluctant to be left alone with a dead body.

"So, it's just a girl?" Sam asked.

Zoe scoffed, and Dean corrected, "It's not just a girl. It's psycho Nell. I'm telling you, man. Humans."

"So who is she, then?" Sam asked, glancing outside.

"I don't know," Dean admitted, "Maybe it's the daughter, Rebecca. Maybe she didn't hang herself."

"She'd have to be like fifty years old by now," Zoe pointed out, "Way too old to be the girl. She's Rebecca's daughter."

"Rebecca had a kid?" Dean asked.

Zoe nodded, "It's an episode from the show. One of the stand-alone episodes to remind us that you guys are still hunters. According to the diary, Daddy's the sugar daddy too, and he didn't do a good job of being either. Locked the kids up all their lives."

Dean made a look of complete disgust, "Wow, a story ripped from an Austrian headline. Humans, man. So she's been locked up her whole life?"

"You saw her eyes," Zoe said, "She's never seen the light, barely even human."

"Okay, so, what, then," Dean began, piecing everything together, "she's been caged up like an animal and she busts out and ganks dear old Dad? Slash Granddad?"

Zoe gave him a nod, "Yathzee."

"Well, can't say I blame her," Dean said with a shake of his head.

"I'm sure her life was hell, Dean," Sam argued, "It doesn't mean she gets a free pass for murder."

"Like you know what hell's like," Dean immediately said.

Sam frowned, "I didn't-"

"Forget it," Dean waved away.

Zoe clapped her hands, wanting to change the subject, "So now what?"

Dean frowned before walking towards the wardrobe the girl had come from, "Kid's gotta eat, right?"

Sam didn't follow, "What?"

"He kept her hidden," Dean reminded, "locked up, but he had to feed her, didn't he?"

"Oh," Zoe said, remembering something.

Dean smiled, "Come on."

Zoe stayed behind to stay with the family while the boys went to test out their theory. She took a seat by the fire place, kicking away the salt to calm down as she waited for the brothers to return.

"Thank you," Susan said after some silence.

Zoe gave her a small smile, "You're welcome."

The mother studied her, "How old are you, Zoe?"

The teenager tilted her head slightly, thinking for a moment, "Almost nineteen."

"So young?" Brian asked, surprised at her age, "When did you start hunting ghosts?"

She shrugged, "A few months ago. Found the boys by chance, and they decided to keep me."

Susan frowned, "And your parents? Do they know?"

"They're…" Zoe paused. How does she explain that she's from another dimension without sounding like a complete lunatic?

"It's alright, dear," Susan said, patting her hand, "You don't have to tell us."

Zoe gave her a small smile, before finding herself enveloped in a hug from Susan. The mother patted her back softly before stepping back. Zoe glanced at Danny, and gave him a small smile.

"Hey, kid," she said, "You want to hear something cool?"

And for the next few minutes, Zoe explained to the family about the comedic genius Shakespeare was by turning Bottom's head into that of a donkey. Their revelry was abruptly interrupted by two gunshots, and Sam calling out for his brother. Zoe didn't move from her spot, hand immediately going for the nearest weapon, half expecting something to attack them.

Thankfully Dean answered informing them that the girl had a brother, a now dead brother. He dragged the body of the brother out, along with their weapons and anything else that had been taken.

"It's over," he said to the family.

…

Dean jacked down the Impala after replacing the tires with some spares the family had. Sam pulls Dean's duffel out of the repacked trunk and threw it in the back of the car. Brian and Susan walked over after Zoe placed the home cooked travel food in the backseat with her. Breakfast tacos, and assorted snacks Susan insisted they take.

"Thanks for the head start," Dean said, returning the jack to it's usual place.

"Why doesn't it surprise me you guys don't like the police?" Brian asked, causing Zoe to grin.

"It's sort of a mutual-appreciation thing, really," Sam admitted.

Brian accepted the answer, and extended his hand to Dean who accepted it, "Well, thank you."

"Thank you," Susan agreed.

"You okay?" Dean asked, turning his attention to the mother.

"No, we're the opposite of okay," Susan admitted, but slipped her hand into Brian's, "but we're together."

"You three take care," Ted said shaking Sam and Zoe's hands.

"We will," Zoe assured as she got into the car with the brothers.

Soon, the farmhouse became nothing but a memory.

Which meant Zoe could take a nap now and catch up on some sleep. At some point, the boys stopped at a small burger place, wherein they remembered Zoe's dislike for burgers and got her a bucket of fried chicken.

She was asleep during the acquiring of the fried flightless bird, and so the boys ate outside, to have their Boy Melodrama scene, as Zoe had taken to calling it, much to Dean's disapproval. Zoe wasn't actually asleep, not really, but neither Winchester bothered to check.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"You know," Dean began, examining his burger, "I felt for those sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that."

"You were in hell, Dean," Sam pointed out, "Look, maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human."

"Yeah, you're right," Dean agreed, before doing a complete 360. "I wasn't like them. I was worse. They were animals, Sam, defending territory. Me? I did it for the sheer pleasure."

"What?" came Sam's shocked response.

"I enjoyed it, Sam," Dean admitted, voice cracking, "They took me off the rack, and I tortured souls, and I liked it. All those years, all that pain. Finally getting to deal some out yourself. I didn't care who they put in front of me. Because that pain I felt, it just slipped away. No matter how many people I save, I can't change that. I can't fill this hole. Not ever."

Zoe closed her eyes again. Dean would never forget, not even after six years of it, and frankly, she didn't blame him.

Who could? Most war vets still suffered from the trauma, and some didn't even go to literal hell. But who cares? Because according to them, nothing can compare to the horrors they have seen.

Dean was no different.