"I don't understand," Dean said as he drove, one hand on the wheel, the other comfortably draped over the back of the passengers seat. "Is she ignoring us? Has she finally gone crazy? Should we take her to a hospital?"

"Stop it, Dean. She's just handling things."

"Carmen? Carmen?" Dean reached back and waved his hand in front of her face, trying to get a reaction out of her.

"She'll come around," Sam said when Carmen only stared vacantly through the windshield from the backseat. "Give her time, she's probably in shock."

"For a month?" Dean said in surprise.

Sam solemnly nodded.

"We could really use your opinion right now, C!" Dean bellowed back at her. Still no response. He heaved a sigh.

"Dean," Sam started. He hesitated a moment before pushing on. "With or without her, we need to talk about the thing that killed Dad."

"I think it's pretty obvious what happened, Sam, I don't think we have to talk about it. We looked up the lore on this. Dad made a deal to trade his life for mine."

"Maybe, but-"

"Not maybe, Sam. It's obvious. I was lying on my deathbed, ripped up by Yellow-Eyes and the car crash, and then all of a sudden I wake up fully healed and Dad's…And, not to mention the whole situation fits perfectly with a crossroads deal!"

Sam looked down and shook his head. He didn't have a response to that. He knew it was true, that John sacrificed his own life, but he didn't want to admit that to Dean. "Don't blame yourself. There's nothing you could have done to change what happened. But we have to think about hunting Yellow-Eyes down."

Dean ignored him, turning up the rock tunes on the radio.

In Carmen's eyes, the windshield was a blank canvass where her thoughts were projected over and over again. She couldn't see what was in front of her, only the images her mind conjured. It's all she ever saw. Her memory was never clear; it was like a nightmare that she could not escape. John, laying in the dry dead grass, his haunting smile illuminating the skyline instead of the sun. His torn, bloody body being dragged by Dean to the Impala (even though there had been not a drop of blood on him when he was found). Images of Sam screaming at her, telling her to hide the blood that she had coughed up onto the ground. She only saw memories and cursed thoughts that, no matter how hard she tried, she could not escape.

Dean threw down a newspaper article on the table in front of Sam, who was coaxing Carmen to eat lunch. "Found something. Woman was attacked in her apartment by something that didn't have to unlock any doors or windows to get in. Let's go check it out." Sam looked up at him with a scowl. "What?" Dean asked.

"That's scarce proof of anything supernatural. I don't think we should go."

"Come on, Sam. We need to move, to start hunting again. I can't just sit around Bobby's anymore. We've been there for too long; Dad would have killed us if he knew we were out of the job for almost a month."

"What about Carmen? She can't even speak, and you want her to hunt?"

"We've babied her for too long. I'm done with it. We need to get back out there."

"Not yet." Sam said with finality.

"Fine. But we at least have to get out of this town. I'm done with being in the middle of bum fuck nowhere."

"I'm going to get some food." Sam called after they checked into a motel and unpacked their things.

"Wait, Sam, take Carmen with you!" But he was already out the door.

Dean looked back over his shoulder and scrunched his nose. He blew out a long breath. Scratching at the back of his neck, he crouched next to his suitcase and started unpacking things. He avoided Vegetable!Carmen, moving her when she was in the way, and never looking her in the eye. That tightness in his stomach that meant he felt uncharacteristically awkward didn't fade as the minutes ticked by. How long was she going to stay like this? Would this be the rest of her life? They've been lucky so far, flying under the radar at the safety of Bobby's, but what if a demon attacked them? Would she be able to defend herself?

That thought made him pause and look up from his suitcase. He turned and really looked at her for the first time in a month, contemplating her. She sat on the bed where he'd last put her, staring at the wall.

With trepidation, he crossed the room and knelt down in front of her so that he was at her eye level. He was unsure of himself, not knowing what to say or do to someone who wouldn't hear him anyway.

"Uh…C?" He looked into her eyes, trying to gauge her reaction, if any. "Carmen? Can you hear me?" No response. He hadn't really expected one anyway.

He heaved a deep and heavy sigh. "Listen, C, this is more of Sam's thing, ya know, I don't really know what to say…but I just want to tell you…I miss you. It's been quiet around here without your smart ass remarks." He gave a nervous chuckle. "And, you know, this is really weighing heavy on Sammy, he really worries about you and… I know it's been hard for you, with Dad. It's been hard for us too…" He put one gentle hand on her knee. "I just really miss you Carmen. I want you back with us. Dad… he was the man I looked up to my whole life and now all of a sudden he's just gone. Carmen, you are the only other person who has been by my side for as long as I can remember. I can't lose you, too." The last thing Dean expected was to get choked up – he expected to start screaming at her before he got choked up - but his eyes filled to the brim with salty tears. He gave a sniffle as one slipped down his cheek.

To Dean's complete shock, Carmen's eyes seemed to actually focus on his. Then she very slowly reached up to his face and touched the tear that was still wet on his cheek. She let her finger hover over his skin for a moment, as if she was fascinated by such a show of emotion.

Dean could only stare, slack jawed, at her face.

At that moment, Sam clanged through the door, arms full of greasy bags and a cup holder carrying three sodas, straws sticking out the top. Dean cleared his throat and stood quickly.

"Great," he rasped, avoiding Sam's eyes. "I'm starving."

The next day, Sam awoke to find both Carmen's and Dean's beds empty, despite the early hour. The shower was running and the front door was left ajar, so he assumed Dean was getting ready for the hunt ahead of them, and that Carmen had wandered off somewhere, which she did often. It was the only thing she did of her own will, so Sam never stopped her. While he waited for the shower to be free, he took out his laptop and started surfing. Just because they were on a hiatus from hunting, didn't mean he wanted to be completely out of commission.

An article about a bigfoot sighting had caught Sam's attention when he heard the water shut off in the bathroom. "Finally," he mumbled. Dean was taking an eternity in there. But just then, the door to the motel swung open.

"Mornin' sunshine, I brought coffee and doughnuts!" Dean said with a sunny grin. Sam jumped up from his chair.

"You're not in the bathroom." Sam said, dumbfounded.

"Yeah, no shit, so wha…."

Sam and Dean both turned their heads to look at the bathroom door, just as Carmen stepped out. Her face was flushed; a stark contrast to how pale it had been for the past month. Her hair was brushed and shinny as it cascaded down her back, and her movements were deliberate as she gathered it up into a ponytail. But the thing that caught Sam's attention and made his breath catch in his throat was the light, the soul that Sam hadn't seen for a long time.

It was back.

Sam could only stare. For a full minute, he was dumbfounded, unable to form a word. Dean's expression mirrored Sam's emotion: his mouth hung open and his eyes were wide.

"Hey," Carmen said, and wow, that was anticlimactic. Neither of the brothers could respond. She took the silence as an opportunity.

"Sam, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I checked out on you like that, on both of you, for so long, I just had to deal with all the crap that happened, but that's no excuse, crap was happening to you, too, and worse for you even, I know, and it was a selfish thing to do, really selfish, but I couldn't help it, it's not like I chose to become a vegetable, and-"

Sam crossed the room in two long strides and lifted Carmen off the ground, knocking the breath out of her. She didn't care. She was just relieved that he wasn't angry with her. Laughter bubbled up in her stomach and escaped through her smile.

"I knew you would come around, C." Sam breathed into her hair. He released her, and Dean grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"Good to have you back."

"So, how much do you remember?" Sam asked as he took her hand and led her to the small table by the window. The two of them sat down, with Dean leaning against the wall behind Carmen. The sun shone through despite the grime caked on to the windows. It felt warm and comforting on Carmen's cheeks.

"Bits and pieces." She responded. "It was like I was inside my own nightmare for an entire month. All I saw was John, and terrible things happening to him. I remember certain moments, though, from the real world. Or, at least, I think the memories are real. When we told Bobby about John. When you were fixing up the Impala," she turned to look at Dean, who gave her a smile. "When you took me to see my mom." Carmen looked back at Sam, who took her hands. "That got through to me."

"Thought it would." Sam whispered.

"What about the last few days?" Dean asked.

"Nothing specific." She said, even though she remembered the previous evening as clear as day.

"Well, it's definitely good timing. We were just about to start our first hunt since…" The mention of John's death hung in the air, but Dean pushed passed it. "Anyway, I've been doing some research."

"Really?" Carmen interjected with a smirk. "Did you attend college while I was out?"

"Shut up, smart ass." Dean kicked her chair. "Bobby called yesterday, told me about a hunter out in Oregon. He was passing by River Grove, and apparently there was a roadblock. The hunter, his name was Neil, calls Bobby, asks his opinion, Bobby says check it out, call him and let him know what he finds. Neil never calls back. It's been a few days now…Bobby wants us to go check it out."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Carmen says. "I need to get back out there."

"That's my girl." Dean smiled.

"Dean, don't you think if we're going to be hunting something, it should be Yellow-Eyes?" Sam interjected.

"Oh, yeah, great plan Sherlock. So, you know where The Demon is? Got any leads? You able to make heads or tails of any of the research Dad has done?"

"Okay, Dean, I get it. Oregon, it is."

Carmen felt light and airy as she got into the Impala with Sam and Dean. The fact that she wasn't watching her father figure perish in gruesome ways 24/7 was a drastic improvement to the quality of her life. Though she was upset about losing John and missed him, she felt oddly rejuvenated. It was as if she was an insomniac, and she had been going through her days with her mind and body only half functioning. But now she had gotten a month of sleep to refresh her. She was ready to be hunting again.

Also, for some odd reason, she was unable to keep her horny hands off of Sam. She felt like an adolescent again; every chance she got to weave her fingers through his, or peck him on the lips, or anytime they were alone together, she took advantage of.

Sort of like now, in the backseat of the Impala. Could they be anymore cliché?

"I'm so glad you're back, Carmen," Sam whispered against her mouth. Dean had gone into the gas station store, at which time Carmen pulled Sam over the center console and attacked him.

"I never left you," she ran her hand up his shirt and over his stomach and chest. "I was always here. Just underneath the surface of what you could see." Her hands now moved down to his belt, which she was just about to unbuckle…

BANG! Dean's fist slammed into the window, startling the couple. "Dean!" Carmen complained.

"You two make me sick," Dean threw them boxed up sandwiches as he climbed into the drivers seat. "One of you, get up here. I'm not taxing you guys around all day so you can play Jack Dawson and Rose Dewitt-Whatever."

"There's no roadblock." Dean commented as the trio crossed the boarder into River Grove.

"There's no anything." Sam whispered in awe. "Where is everybody?"

Dean rolled the Impala down the silent road. As far as the trio could see, the roads, stores, houses, and playgrounds were completely deserted. Some of the properties seemed to have been ransacked. Empty food cans, blankets, and scores of other household items littered many of the front yards they passed. Several of the store windows were shattered, and inside the shelves had been ripped from the walls, their contents scattered.

Dean parked the Impala and they got out to examine the town. "Ya know, I figured zombie apocalypse was too crazy for even us, but. This town looks like it came out of an episode of the Walking Dead."

"You should know by now that nothing is too crazy for us." Carmen smirked up at Dean. "Okay, fan out. Yell if you find anything."

Carmen separated from the brothers. Her hand wandered to her pistol, just to make sure it was there when – if – she needed it. Her hunter senses were a-tingling. What the hell happened here?

"Hey Sam!" Carmen called. "Come look."

"What is it?" Carmen gestured to a wooden telephone pole.

"It says Croatoan. That makes perfect sense here."

"A town that just vanished…" Sam nodded.

"What's Croatoan?" Dean asked as he joined them.

"Well, Roanoke was one of the first English colonies in American history. No one knows how or why but one day the colony just vanished. The only thing they left behind was a single word carved into a tree."

"Croatoan." Carmen finished.

They got back into the Impala and moved through the town.

"Look!" Sam pointed to a car a ways down the road. It was flipped over.

Dean pulled the Impala over to the curb, and Sam ran out to the crashed vehicle. "Be careful," Carmen warned him. "Dean, something's seriously wrong here. Where are the local police? First responders? Anyone?"

"No cell signal, either. That usually means 'get the hell out'." Dean whipped out his pistol as they followed Sam to the car.

"There's no one in there." Sam informed them. "What the hell is going on?"

Just as the words left his mouth, a woman ran at Sam and tackled him to the ground. Carmen got a glimpse of her face – it was covered in angry red sores, her teeth were bared, and her hand was rigid in a claw shape. Before she could even get her hand up to swing at him, Carmen and Dean were on her.

The woman was unnaturally strong, and it took both Carmen's and Dean's full efforts to pry her away from Sam. They threw her on the ground and held her there.

"Who are you, what the hell do you want?" Sam bellowed, aiming his gun at her. She didn't say a word, but snarled and hissed. Her flesh looked like it was decaying around her bones.

"Shoot her, Sam!" Dean shrieked.

"She's human! I can't!"

BANG! And the woman ceased to struggle, the side of her head practically blown off. Carmen jumped back, aiming her gun in the direction the shot had come from. Her heart was pounding so hard, she wouldn't be surprised if the inside of her ribs were bruised.

"Put the gun down!" A man shouted, not too far away from where they stood. He was a middle-aged African-American man dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt and oh, great. A shotgun pointed in their direction.

"Who are you?" Carmen yelled.

"Who are you? You're not from around here!"

"Lower your weapon!"

"No! What if you're one of 'em?"

"One of what? We're not one of anything," Dean said with hostility.

"How do we know you're not one of them?" Carmen countered.

"I ain't."

"Do we trust him?" Sam whispered aside.

"He did just kill that woman for us," Dean responded.

"Exactly! He killed a woman!"

"Look," Carmen interrupted the brothers bickering and yelled to the man. "We just came to help. Can you tell us what's going on here?" She put away her gun into her back pocket as a sign of good faith, and motioned for Sam and Dean to do the same. They grudgingly followed her lead.

"Tell you what's-? You mean you couldn' tell from looking at Mrs. Janson over there? Well, let's see, yesterday Mrs. Janson came over to my place to give me some of the freshly grown eggplants she's been growin' in her back yard, and now she's a crazy zombie who wants to eat people's brains out! And that is the extent of my knowledge on the situation."

"What's your name?" Carmen asked. He finally lowered his weapon and looked her over.

"Damien," he responded.

"Damien. Do we look like crazy psycho zombies?" Carmen asked.

"Doesn't mean you won't become 'em. Apparently the virus takes an hour to-"

"Virus?" Sam asked. Damien heaved a deep sigh, as if he were tired of them asking stupid questions.

"I am tired of you askin' stupid questions!" He said. "You got a car?"

"So, it's a virus that shows up as sulfur in the blood?" Sam repeated. There were several survivors - or maybe they were immune, Carmen wasn't sure - that had gathered in the town doctor's office. "So then, blood to blood contact is the only way to transfer it."

"Well, I'm no expert. But it looks that way. Whenever these infected people attack, they seem to attempt to bleed into the victim's open wound."

Dean pulled Carmen aside while Sam continued speaking to the doctor. "What the hell is this? Sulfer? It seems like this is some kind of demonic poison. Is that even possible?"

"I've never seen anything like it before."

"There is definitely nothing about this in Dad's research, I would have remembered. Carmen, how are we going to get these people out of here? How are we going to get ourselves out of here? We have to warn people, we have to contain this somehow."

"It's not going to be easy. We're going to have to fight our way out. A lot of innocent people would have to get hurt."

"Innocent?"

"They were just regular people before this. They're sick. They didn't choose to become killers anymore than I chose to become a vegetable. Maybe there's a cure."

"I wouldn' hold your breath," Damien cut in. "Even if someone could find a cure, that someone's probably got the virus and is eating someone else's brains by now."

"You think it's is that wide spread?"

"All I know is what I can see."

"That's helpful," Carmen rolled her eyes. She was starting to really dislike this guy.

"AHHH!" The nurse, Nancy, jumped as there was a crash at the front door of the office.

"Let me in! Please, help me!" A teenaged boy yelped as his blood-covered hands hammered the door. His eyes were filled with terror and anxiety, tear tracks cutting through the grim that caked his cheeks.

"That's James Tanner!" Nancy cried.

Carmen lurched forward to unlock the door, but Damien grabbed her arm and jerked her back. Sam and Dean reacted at the same time, reaching for Damien, but Carmen was quicker. She latched on to his hand and twisted so he was on the ground in an instant.

"Ah, hey, let go! Don' let 'im in, he might have the disease!"

"And he might not." Carmen stared him down. "We'll tie him up, I don't care, but we're not leaving him out there."

"Carmen, are you sure?" Dean furrowed his brow.

She nodded. Dean held Damien back and Carmen let the teenager into the office.

"Thank you! Thanks, it's crazy out there. What the hell is going on? I just saw Mr. Rogers chasing down his neighbor, he looked… he looked so violent."

"Mr. Rogers?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"It's some kind of virus, and you might be infected!" Damien stepped forward, taking his gun from its holster.

"Me?"

"Easy, we don't know anything yet." Carmen stepped in front of Damien. "It's James, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay James. Got any open wounds? Any of those crazies bleed on you?"

"No! No, I don't have any open wounds."

"What about the blood on your hands?" Damien cut in.

"I was hunting! That's where I've been the whole weekend; I was gutting a deer when I realized that the whole town was deserted. Even my parents…"

"Okay, listen." Carmen said as soothingly as she could. "We're not going to do anything rash," she gave Damien a pointed look. "But we have to protect ourselves. We have handcuffs in our duffel. We're not going to hurt you; we just want to make sure you don't hurt us. If you're still you in an hour, we'll uncuff you. If not…well, we'll deal with it then. Don't refuse; you don't really have a choice here."

"It's not in me, so. Go ahead and cuff me."

Dean kept watch through the large office window as the sun dipped down past the trees. In the hour that passed while the survivors waited to know James's fate, their morale sank with the disappearing sun.

Carmen and Sam sat next to one another, their backs against the wall outside the exam room where they had handcuffed James. They volunteered to stay down the hall and "keep an eye on him."

Let's be honest. They were making out.

But it wasn't the same type of light-hearted, frisky-teenagers-touching-for-the-first-time type of making out like in the Impala. It was sort of desperate. Intense in the way Sam gripped Carmen's hips, even though their sitting position made it awkward. Passionate in the way Carmen sucked hard on Sam's bottom lip. Loving in the way that he brushed her hair and she ghosted her fingers over his face.

"That was cool, what you did for James," Sam whispered when they came up for air.

Carmen smiled back against his mouth. "I couldn't desert him out there. Plus, any chance I got to humiliate Damien, I was going to take."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, that guy is a hot head. And he doesn't stand a chance against you." He leaned in and kissed her, sucking on her bottom lip.

"Mmmm. As much as I would love to stay here and have your lips all over me, we should probably take those cuffs off of James. It's been over an hour, he's not infected."

Sam nodded. He went into the examination room to speak to James, while Carmen went down the long hallway to where the others were waiting.

"Let's go, Damien," Carmen held out her hand. He grudgingly dropped the key into her open palm. "The kid is fine. He hasn't made a peep since we cuffed him."

"Whatever, it's your funeral."

"It seems to have calmed down out there," Dean rasped from the window, peeking out of the blinds. "Maybe these things sleep at night."

"Or maybe they're just out there hidin', waitin' for us to lower our guard."

"Even so, I think our best bet is to move at night. We have a better chance at stealth."

"Agreed." Carmen said. "How are we all going to fit into he Impala?"

"I gotta car," Damien muttered.

And just as Carmen was starting to feel that they might all escape this funky town alive, a loud crash and crazed yell came from down the hall. Carmen gasped, locking eyes with Dean. For a split second, they stared at each other, both denying what they knew was happening. It seemed like time had stopped, and Carmen could see into the future, into the horrifying night she was about to face.

"SAM!" Carmen and Dean called, running down the hall. Damien was hot on their heels, with the doctor, the nurse, and a few others chasing after them.

They bust through the door just in time to see James on top of Sam, a bloody knife on the floor beside them. Before Carmen could even cock her gun, James thrust his bleeding wrist at the open wound on Sam's chest.

"No!" Carmen screamed in terror. She aimed her gun and put a single bullet through the back of James's head. He fell forward on top of Sam, who gently pushed him off and laid him down gingerly on the floor beside him. He looked up to see Carmen lowering her gun, Dean with fearful eyes next to her, and what was left of the townspeople, stunned, behind them.

"H-he got out of the cuffs," Sam stammered. He was just as stunned as everyone else. "I couldn't stop him…I…."

As Carmen lowered her gun, Damien raised his. It was aimed directly at Sam's chest. "He touched 'im!" He exclaimed. "He bled on 'im!" Dean was in front of Damien in an instant.

"Put the gun down, Damien!" He warned. Carmen crouched down next to Sam, examining his cut. It was a bad slice down his right peck. The blade ripped his skin and left muscle exposed.

"Why? He's infected now; it's just a matter of time before he's goes crazy jus' like the kid. We gotta shoot 'im."

No, no, no this wasn't happening. Carmen couldn't think. She could barely breathe. She had just been reunited with him…was fate so cruel that it would only give them one day back with each other before another disaster?

"No one's shooting anyone!" Dean yelled over Damien. "He hasn't done anything."

"Yet," Damien countered.

"He's innocent," Dean said forcefully.

"So was James," the doctor chimed in, "and she just put a bullet in his head!"

"He was attacking my brother-"

"And Sam's gonna do the same to us, if we don't shoot 'im now!" Damien cocked his gun, but Dean didn't budge. Their eyes stayed locked in a battle of wills.

"Everyone needs to get out." Carmen said with authority in her voice. "Dean and I need to speak to Sam. Alone."

"The hell you do! I'm not takin' my eyes off this boy!" Damien was vehement. "No more attacks are happening on my watch."

Carmen walked up to where Dean stood shielding his brother, pushed him out of the way and swatted Damien's gun down.

"Listen, even if he is infected, which we aren't sure about yet, the virus doesn't take hold until an hour has passed. I'm telling you we need fifteen minuets. You're going to give it to us. Get. Out." Carmen ordered with more venom in her voice then Sam or Dean had ever heard her inject before.

Damien stood staring at her for a moment. His nostrils flared, but he said, "You get ten." The townspeople shuffled out of the examination room.

"Wait," Nancy whispered. "James. He came in here as an innocent kid seeking help. He should at least be given a proper funeral." Her and one of the men carried his body out of the room. Damien glared at the dead body as it passed him, as if he didn't think James deserved a funeral at all. Before he left, he forced a gun into Dean's hand. He slammed the door behind him.

Carmen took a deep breath to steady herself, then helped Sam up on the examination table.

"She may not have infected you-" Dean began.

"Dean, I saw it happen." She said somberly.

"All I'm saying is, we don't know how it will affect you."

"But we do know." Sam said in a broken voice as Carmen lifted his shirt above his head. "We've seen it affect enough people now, Dean, we know what's coming. I don't want to become one of those things. I can't."

"So what do you expect me to do, put a bullet in you brain?" Dean exclaimed. Carmen froze as she was cleaning Sam's wound. Tears sprang into her eyes, but she forced them away. They were all quiet as Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"Dean, you have to get these people out of here. It's their only hope of surviving." Carmen didn't look at him as she said this. She began stitching up Sam's chest.

"I agree, you guys can take them to the next town over-"

"That's not what she meant, Sam." Dean stared at her, and she could feel his gaze burning the back of her neck. All was silent for a moment. "Carmen, you're not staying!" He looked incredulous. "Sam is going to turn into a killing machine in less than an hour and-"

"And someone needs to be here to stop him." Carmen whipped around, her caramel colored eyes boring into Dean's green ones. "Dean, get them out of here, get them to safety, and call me when you've done it."

"No, Carmen, go with him," Sam pleaded. He knew there was no use in arguing with her if her mind was set, so he took a different approach. "I can do it myself." He took the gun from Carmen's back pocket, but she jerked it away and threw it to the floor on the other side of the room.

"I'm not leaving you," she declared with sad eyes. "I'm not leaving you to die alone."

Sam stared down into her eyes. He could tell that the last thing she wanted right now was to leave him. He would never ask her to sacrifice her life for him, but a small part of him was thankful for her resilience. He desperately wanted her to stay.

"If you're so worried about him being alone, then I'll stay!" Dean's voice broke. "You take the survivors, and I'll stay with Sammy."

"You wont be able to kill him. When the time comes, you wont have it in you." Carmen whispered. She left her post next to Sam and stood face to face with Dean. "You can save these people. You can leave; I can't."

"I don't want to." Dean protested.

"I know." She held his gaze. He sigh, then pulled her into a crushing hug. Somehow it wasn't tight enough for her. She was suddenly overcome with emotion, and it manifested itself in the form of tears spilling from her eyes. Dean held on to her for a long while. Then he engulfed his brother in his arms.

"I'll call you when were safe, C." His voice broke as he said it.

"Lock us in." She ordered.

Dean nodded. He cast one last glance at his brother, wrenched the door open and locked it behind him. Carmen watched through the small window as he explained to the townspeople that they would be going, and leaving Carmen and Sam behind. Most of them looked shocked, but Damien nodded, as if it was the right thing to do. He saw Sam as nothing more than an animal now, a dangerous one that needed to be put down. And Carmen was the one that needed to put him down.

When they were all gone, Carmen sat on the table opposite Sam. She couldn't meet his gaze.

"Why didn't you go with them, C?" He said as his voice cracked. "I don't want you here when any moment I could rip you apart."

"I'm sure you'll go easy on me." She forced a smile. "Plus, it's not going to happen any second. We still have a good forty-five minutes to kill before you maim me."

"Carmen."

"What, Sam?" She challenged. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving, so you might as well just accept it."

They were silent for a moment.

"Thank you," Sam mumbled. Carmen's eyes shot up to his face. A lump built in her throat. She wanted to say something to him, but she felt that all she could safely manage was a nod. Tears sprang into her eyes once more. They spilled over. Fuck, was she ever going to be able to control them? She hastily wiped them away, but not fast enough to hide them from Sam.

He got up and came toward her. She closed her eyes, and felt Sam's calloused hands so gently wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"I don't want to lose you," Carmen whispered, almost unintelligibly. He took her face in his hands, delicately tilting her face up to his. She studied his face, not wanting to forget a thing.

"Don't do that, C," Sam begged. "I don't want my last hour to be depressing."

Carmen laughed bitterly. "How would you like to spend your last hour then?"

Without a word, Sam kissed her. It wasn't the gentle kiss she had come to know. It was passionate, animalistic, and it made Carmen simultaneously aroused and terrified. A small part of her wondered if his vehemence was a sign of the virus taking hold early, or if it was just Sam acting with abandon because he knew this would be their last time together. Either way, Carmen didn't care; she lost herself in him, and he her. They made love, and then they fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

When Carmen awoke, it was dark in the office. A loud banging was the culprit of her awakening; she was shocked to see Dean's face in the small window of the office door.

"What the hell?" She mumbled. Sam was still sleeping next to her (sans clothing, just the way she liked him) peacefully as if they were in a warm bed. Carmen, also naked, with only Sam's jacket for coverage, was dazed.

"GET UP CARMEN ELIZA!" Dean wailed as he banged a fist on the office door, his other hand over his eyes.

By then, Sam had awoken. His eyes were groggy as he looked around the room.

Carmen flipped open her phone. "Sam," Carmen's face split into a grin. "It's been four hours."

"What? How are we…?"

"I don't know! I don't know…" She laughed, kissing him again. "But I'm not going to question it. Let's just get the hell out of here."

They both dressed, Dean waiting patiently outside the office. He had unlocked the door so they could walk out freely.

"So…I leave, valiantly risking my life to get the group to safety," Dean said. "And you two stay here and have sex. Yeah, that was the plan. Makes perfect sense." He rolled his eyes.

"Happy to see you alive too, Dean." Carmen joked. "Listen, I really have no idea what happened here. Maybe it was the fact that Sam has this whole psychic thing going on, or maybe really great sex is the cure," Dean made a retching sound, "but can we just get the hell out of here, please?"

The brothers didn't argue. They were on the road and out of town in minutes.

"Bobby? Yeah, just another day on the job," Dean stretched in the passengers seat. He relinquished control and let Carmen drive, but refused to sit in the backseat. "It's a virus Bobby. A demon virus. We have to warn people. Yeah…It got to Sam, but somehow he dodged a bullet. He didn't get infected."

As Carmen listened to Dean recount the day's journey, she saw a narrow dirt road to her left, barely noticeable because of the thick brush on all sides, and turned down it. Bobby owned this property and used it as a stop for hunters when they were on the road and needed somewhere to stay. It was a great hideout – it was well hidden from any type of civilization, small and inconspicuous, and pre-rigged with demon traps and rock salt.

They trudged through the mud and into the cabin. The lights wouldn't flip on, so Carmen lit some of the candles with her cigarette lighter. When she did, she illuminated a dark shape that seemed to be waiting for them in the cabin.

"Bobby?" Carmen called, surprised to see him.

He turned toward her, Sam and Dean standing behind her, and his eyes were a luminescent yellow.