"Why don't we grab something to eat before he head over to the house."

Sam looked up from the leather bound book to see his brother was pulling into the parking lot of a diner. In neon lights was the diner's name, Norma's Diner. "Uh..okay, yeah." Sam opened the car door, looking over to the driver's seat to see that Dean was still sitting behind the wheel. "Did, uh, you wanna go inside?"

"Huh?" Dean tore his gaze away from the window. He had been watching the waitresses flitting from one table to the next. For just a second, he was holding his breath, waiting to see if he could catch a familiar glimpse of her. But then, he realized, she was laid up in that hospital bed. "Oh, yeah." He took the keys out of the ignition, open the door, shut it, and placed the keys into the pocket of his leather jacket.

A shrill bell announced their arrival at the diner. There here only a handful of diners, and they all seemed to turn to Sam and Dean's way, then quietly went back to their meals.

"Be right with ya!"

"Be right with ya hon!" A hoarse voice yelled from the kitchen. It was a voice that was the product of years of smoking. He noticed a woman's head poke from the opening that led from behind the counter, to the kitchen window. Her face was lined with wrinkles, her dark hair was pulled up into a bun, and reading glasses hung from a chain around her neck, landing on a pair of ample bosoms.

He lifted his hand and waved at her as he made his way to the table, feeling the eyes on him from the other customers as he walked past the tables. Next to the bathroom was a cork board, he walked up to it, hoping some kind of job would be posted. After a huge fight with his brother, Dean packed up and left. No word on where he was going. Truth be told, Dean didn't even know where he was going. He just got in his car and drove until either sleep beckoned him to pull over, or hunger. In his case, it was both. All he wanted to do was eat a great dinner, find a motel and sleep for three days.

On the front of the bulletin, covering up the others, was a large blue piece of paper. Its neat hand writing was scrawled along the surface.

Mechanic wanted. Free room and board in exchange for work at Reynolds Auto Shop. Inquire within.

The bell above the door jangled as a young woman ran into the diner, out of breath. quickly walked to the waitress station, grabbed the red apron, and tied it around her waist. ""Sorry Norma! She died on me again." She addressed the older woman.

The older woman gave the younger woman a small smile. "Third time this week. Don'tcha think you should get something a little newer?"

"You know i love her!"

She approached the table, taking out the table from the front pocket of her apron. Her young face beamed at him as he sat at the table, a pen in his mouth, looking at something that was in front of him.

""I'm sorry, do you know what you want yet?"

Dean Winchester looked up from the flyer, the pen between his full lips, which tilted up at the right side of his mouth. The woman was very beautiful, a little on the petite side, with her blond hair swept up into a pony tail. Her eyes were storm cloud blue and they twinkled when she smiled at him. His eyes slid over to where her name tag was located, taking a second to check her out-small waist, curvy hips, long, long, lean and sun-kissed legs-, then up to her eyes. "Uh..actually..Jaxson." He slid the flyer from under the table mat. "Was wondering if you know anything about this?"

Her eyes left his to look at the piece of paper. For just a second, Dean notice something flash in her eyes, but it was gone before he could even think on what that look meant. "I, uh, actually know the owners." She turned over the coffee mug, pouring the hot liquid into the white ceramic. "Are ya interested?" Dean noted a drawl in her speech, which made her even more attractive.

"Maybe. Free room and board?"

"Mmmhmm." She sat the pot of coffee on the table, reached into her apron to take out the order tablet. She tore it from the booklet, turned it over and scribbled down something. She handed it to him. '"That's the address. Not to far from here. I get off in an hour. I can run you out there. Like I said, I know the owners and they are in desperate need."

Dean looked up from the address, shocked at her sheer trust in him. She had just met him a few minutes ago, asking what he wanted to order. Here she was, offering him, a stranger, a ride. It had been a long time since he'd been in the company of a civilian. Someone who had yet to know the dangers that lurked in the shadows. She had complete trust in him.'

/**/

Dean shut off the engine and sat in the drivers seat, looking at a building in front of him. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about the last time he had been here. Wanting to do this alone, Dean had persuaded Sam to stay behind at the motel, gather some more information on the attack, being such a small town, Dean knew there had to be some gossip going around this hick town.

[img] ride_images/3/3414/3601/33534300002_ ?v=1[/img]

Parked next to the Impala, was a black, lifted 1970 Ford F150 and a chuckle erupted from his chest. He lost count how many times he gave her shit about driving that truck. She was so short and tiny, that she had to hold onto the door, and hoist herself into the driver's seat. But secretly, Dean was beaming with pride when he found out that she had built that thing from the ground up. All by herself.

He opened the door of the Impala, his boots silent on the cement as he approached the door, where a yellow police sign was handing from the frame. Two houses were to the right and the left of Jaxson's, so Dean looked behind him to make sure no one was looking, and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out a small, rectangular box, and opened it up. Several instruments gleamed under the porch light, as Dean selected the one that would be the best for the job. Within seconds, the door slid open, and Dean quickly walked inside-suddenly hit with her smell-, shutting the door with his foot.

The house was small, made up of a living and dining room, the kitchen was separated by a breakfast bar that extended the length of the wall. He didn't want to turn on any lights, just in case there was some nosy neighbors nearby. But he knew the house very well, and he was pleased to see that nothing had changed.

He toured the small living room, his finger running over the fabric of the couch. Oh if this baby could talk. Dean smiled as he thought back to the countless times they had sat down to watch a movie, but ended up having sex.

He noticed an overturned coffee mug lying on the coffee table, the contents long dried up. He walked over to the television and noticed several photos neatly arranged on the entertainment center, along with candles and various knick knacks. He smiled as he noticed a crystal penguin sitting at the very back. He slowly picked it up, examining the miniature. He had gotten this for her at a carnival. She had persuaded that he go, and he reluctantly said no. But seeing the sadness on her face, Dean finally gave in to her.

The damn thing was only worth a dollar, but Jaxson loved it like it was worth millions. For Dean, that had been worth the cheesiness of the whole fair thing, just to see that beautiful smile on her face.

Dean replaced the penguin, and finally decided he had put this off long enough. He turned to face a long hallway, where a set of stairs were located, leading to two bedrooms.

He walked down the second floor hallway, to see the master bedroom was located, a room he had visited several times in the past. He took his hand, pushing the door further open, not expecting to see the carnage before him. From the destruction of the room, he knew this was where the attack had happened.

The mattress was lying half-way off the bed, the yellow comforter was tangled up into a pile, stained red with blood. From what he read from the police report, the boyfriend was found on the bed, his throat slashed. Dean turned his head from the blood stained comforter, not wanting to think of her having someone else in that bed. Jaxson had been found outside on the patio, lying un conscience on the concrete, the phone gripped tightly in her hands.

He felt the phone vibrate in his jacket, so he reached inside, and pulled out the phone, to see Sam's number. "Yeah." He placed the phone to his ear as he walked out of the bedroom and back down the stairs.

"Hey, Dean. I just got a call from Dorthy Jenkins, the nurse and friend of Bobby's."

"Yeah." Dean made sure the front door was locked as he walked down the sidewalk to where the Impala was located, glancing at the lifted truck.

"She said that Jaxson is talking, and wants to meet with us. Meet me there?"

"I'm on my way."