And now for something no one saw coming... from what I could tell. I'm sure some of you guys are still wondering about Nadia's last vision and where the hell John and Jebidia are... 2 out of 3 of these ponderings will be answered... Now...

"John!" She exclaimed in utter shock and surprise at the sight of the veteran hunter standing a good twenty feet from her in the seemingly abandoned hallway. As her brief distraction of shock dissipated, grief and pain once again coursed in her veins, causing her to clutch Jim's weathered journal closer to her stomach; squeezing air from her lungs, resulting in a slight difficulty to continue breathing.

John didn't seem to notice the misery emanating from the young woman, he was simply content with seeing a familiar face where he knew his boys were, without a doubt, lurking about. A tinge of nostalgia forced his scruffy grin to widen when his eyes landed on the old book in Nadia's grasp.

"Haven't seen that ratty old thing in a while," he drawled out gruffly, the huntress nearly smiled as his scratchy voice tickled her ears. Since she was a child his rough, life-long-smoker speech had always been strangely soothing to the elder Coltier sister; and now more than ever, she would have welcomed the comfort. But in light of this unhappy reunion, instead of solace, she was left feeling just as empty, alone and cold. "Haven't seen you Coltier girls in longer, come to think of it. How are you and little Emily these days?"

There it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. The question that left the reeling huntress undone, she had already felt her resolve cracking like Humpty-Dumpty at his moment of impact before her run-in with Daddy Winchester. It was as if her hearing blanked mere moments before her sisters name was mentioned, but she still felt the terrible sting of reality in watching how his jovial eyes examined her as his words formed the deceased huntress's name. Nadia felt the final snap of losing her grip, the whip-crack of the slip, the nauseating weightless free fall prior to the beautiful crash landing of her self control. All quickly followed by the cruel, enveloping flames as her heart was thrashed into the Land of Lost Fire.

Not that she'd ever been very fond of fire in general, but the absence of fire in her heart and soul rendered her a hopeless shell of a person.

John realized too late what he'd unintentionally done to his fellow hunter. He watched as the once strong and statuesque young woman, in all her burning glory, smoldered and crumpled like ash. "What happened?"

"...She's dead..." Nadia gasped, her breathing returned to a panicked, heavily laborious rate; lithe frame swaying until it collided with the wall inches to her left, which was mainly comprised of ceiling to knee-level, dark tinted windows, continuously stretched–side by side–all the way down the one side of the hall. As if overly dramatizing a slow agonizing death by a dagger to the heart, she slowly sank to the ground; eyes glued to the invisible mark on the ground between the two of them. "... she's dead, John. I'm all that's left, and I never had much of a chance to begin with."

Blood red locks hung like a curtain, shielding Nadia's mournful face from prying eyes as she lowered her gaze further to her scuffed, muddy, blood spattered, black leather boots. Her body quaked in a shuddering sigh. The presence of defeat radiated from her so powerfully it could bring the strongest and coldest men to their knee's.

Which is just where she found John Winchester the moment she began to look up.

"I–I'm so sorry, Nadia..." his eyes glistened in an ancient, now shared, grief.. Loathing for whatever dark force that caused said tragedy illuminated his unshed tears as he reached out to place a consoling hand on her shoulder. But it froze half way in a confusing and unreasonable uncertainty, it hung there for a moment before his fingertips gently pushed back the crimson ribbons veiling the girl's face.

"It should have been me that needed Life Support..." she cried, "It was my job to protect her, keep her safe... I failed her, John.." Her words grew in intensity and gradually became sharp, vehement. "It should've been me who died... god, what I wouldn't give to take her place right now!" With that, the young psychic's eyes sprang open, unleashing pale silver-blue orbs upon the unsuspecting hunter.

"There's a new trick... when did that start happening?" he asked cautiously; suddenly unaware of which was worse: the unnaturally colored eyes ablaze in anger, or narrowed from intense confusion.

"W–what?" she whimpered, clearly thrown off guard.

"Nadia, you're eyes aren't blue-silver, but right now that's the exact color I'm lookin' at."

"I–I had no idea.." What the hell? A new power? Seems pretty pointless to me.

"Power? Like Sammy and his visions-kind of power?!" he demanded, Nadia stared wide-eyed at the revered hunter.

"John... I didn't say that out loud, and I most certainly wasn't trying to project my thoughts just now..." she whispered fearfully, beginning to mirror the look of cautionary suspicion that was blooming on John's face.

"Just how many powers do you have?" He held his doubting gaze, whereas Nadia began to try to press herself harshly against the wall behind her in fear of the look he was giving. Knowing what types of things he normally reserved that look for.

"A lot... what do you want me to list every last one of them? We'd be here all week!" she exclaimed weakly, seeing exactly what false thoughts were beginning to take hold in his mind.

"I've seen eyes like those before..."

"John... no..."

"But last time I saw them..."

"...please! You know I'm not..."

"...they were yellow."

"No... it's not true, you don't honestly think that I could possibly be..."

"My question is what makes you so special that they're not black like most of the other's?" She deflated, each word stabbing at her painfully.

"...evil. You think I'm evil!? That's crazy, John!"

"Is that what happens to the kids like Sam that Big Bad has control over?"

"No-one has control over me... Have you lost your mind?"

"...my boys... where are they? What have you done with them?!" He raged loudly, Nadia flinched at the volume, but could not suppress an equal reaction.

"Done to them?! I haven't done a damn thing to them! I'm helping Sammy learn to control his abilities... if you must know!" she roared, surprisingly causing John Winchester to take even the smallest step backward.

"So the Demon can take him with a little bit more ease?" he countered, eyes narrowed, everything about the statement seemed like a snake was striking at the young huntress.

"So his powers don't end up killing him, John! These accusations are insane!" Nadia's eyes began to glow in their vibrantly unnatural hue, physically shoving the hunter backwards without lifting so much as a finger. Instantly, they grew even larger in realization of what she'd just done. Her legs shot up and curled against her chest protectively, and she began to hug her knees so tightly that she felt the agonizing pins and needles claim her limbs almost immediately.

Unlike the frightened young woman, John Winchester did not back down in result of the unintentional attack; if anything it made him push harder.

"I would never have though it... the mailman, a doctor, a bus driver... all possible demons I could have seen coming... but you? I used to see such innocence and good in you..." the words cut deeper than any blade, and Nadia sat trembling in tears as each cut deeper than the last, menacingly, relentlessly, "... and Emily? Was she evil, too or just a poor girl caught in the crossfire of your darkness?"

With a loud gasp, Nadia ceased a majority of her crying and seethed through clenched teeth livid words at the insult directed at her dead baby sister.

"Damn you, John! Kick me all you want, regardless if I deserve it or not... but don't you dare throw dirt on Emily's good name. Clearly you have lost your goddamn mind! I mean, you're our godfather for fuck's sake!" she screamed in desperation. Struggling against the now excruciating pin pricks of numb nerves, she attempted to move; either towards the middle aged man who slowly, cautiously inched away from her or to run away from John and his outrageous accusations... she didn't even know. The only result was a clumsy tumble, though she was already sitting down against the wall, she fell awkwardly on her left side and proceeded to weakly press herself against the wall. In utter fear, born from the wild look in her godfather's eyes, that he would–at any moment–do to her what he did to every evil creature/entity he came across: destroy, kill.

But she was assaulted by neither attack nor the continuation of his poisonous rant. Instead she felt two large hands clamping onto her shoulders, shaking her vigorously from where she lay stunned.

"...up, Nadia... C'mon, please... you gotta wake up!" Sam begged, voice dripping with trepidation as he tried to rouse Nadia. Just when he began to fear the worst, she jerked awake, frantically pushing herself away from where John had been; even when she realized it was Sam, she continued to try to squirm away from the younger hunter. "Oh thank god, for a minute there I though you were..."

His sentence trailed off when he finally saw what she was doing, glad he went silent when she stiffened in anticipation of what he was about to say. Wide, petrified silver-blue eyes caused him to lose his train of thought completely.

"Dead? Unlike Emily... no." Each word gushed forth upon the waves of their own individual gasp; tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her cheeks in shaky lines of silver and blue.

"Em–? Oh god, Nadia...I'm–"

"Do you think I'm evil, Sammy?"

"What? No, of course not! Where the hell did you get that crazy idea?!" his eyes shimmered in the harsh hospital lighting. Either his grief at Nadia's loss hit him much harder than she thought, he was deeply saddened by her question... or he knew something else was wrong.

Great. More good news. She though dryly before noticing the shift in the electricity in the air. New thoughts, familiar emotions flitted about in her head. She finally picked up on how drastically her senses and abilities had sharpened since wandering into the hall. But as the last remaining specks of silver and blue drained from the windows of her soul, she felt terribly weak; senses dulling back to their normal level.

Dad... the last time he got to see me, we were arguing... great son I am. If only there was something I could do... god, this is going to kill Dean...

"...John..." she murmured sadly, Sam must have just found out. After nervously averting his line of vision from the glassy frightened brown orbs before him, Sam's eyes snapped back to the huntress at the mention of his father's name.

"Dad said you were evil?... Just now?" He asked, his face contorted in confusion, though his voice remained soft and consoling. He leaned back as it dawned on him, "You knew... you knew he died... why didn't you say anything?"

Guilt and remorse blossomed in Nadia's already broken heart at the way Sam looked at her. For the first time she noticed the unmistakable childlike innocence that Sam appeared to embody, even though she was well aware the young man was far from innocent, hadn't been for a majority of his life. Opening her mouth, she stumbled clumsily over her words. "I–I..." she huffed in dejected frustration "it's not that I didn't want to, Sammy... I was just... afraid you'd both hate me and leave. A–and the vision? The last time those had ever hurt–at all like that–was my very first one... this last one... my god, I–I can't even begin to describe it..."

"That vision was about dad dying? Why would him dying while in a coma cause pain?" he mused aloud, hoisting himself from his crouching position with a hunter's grace, holding out his hand to help Nadia up. Hesitantly, she studied the open hand as if deciding whether or not it would bite her if she took it. Trusting him, she accepted; waiting until she was back on her unsteady, tingling feet again to answer him.

"Sam... he was murdered." Sam froze, and she picked up on the heavy feeling of shock that permeated off him in waves. "...it was the Demon that did it. I–it was like he was making me watch, I was helplessly pinned to the wall and everything. Forced to watch, forced to feel your father's pain. I don't know why he made me watch..." the twin dams restraining Sam's tears broke and he cut her off with a sudden embrace, soaking the top of her head with gushing liquid pain. All three hunters had lost people very close to them within the last 12 or so hours; in all that time, she would never have imagined receiving such a reaction. When her gifted student clung to her, grieving for both departed hunters, Nadia felt within herself a new ray of hope bursting through the thick clouds of assumed loneliness and isolation. Blinking away her surprise, she raised her arms and returned the gesture. Maybe I will be alright again... someday... I won't be alone after all...

"Alone? Why would you ever be alone again?" Sam's voice rattled in his chest, alleviating some of Nadia's tension. "I think you'll find it takes a lot to get rid of Dean and me, especially since my brother's all kinds of crazy for you."

Despite herself, she began to laugh; there in the lulling warmth of the young Winchester's lanky arms, amidst the weight of exhaustion and grief, Nadia allowed herself a few minutes of openly displaying her raw emotions. Every proverbial wall crumbled when she rested her head against his chest, body shaking in sobs, synchronized damn near perfectly with Sam's.

His strong and steady heartbeat thrummed against her ear, coaxing her mind to linger towards falling asleep once more. Flashes of John's cold confrontation with her flitted before her mind's eye, reminding her that falling asleep would be a bad idea at the moment.

"Do you want to tell Dean... or should I?" Sammy's husky voice, wrought with emotion, cut through her hazy thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

"I don't think it would be my place to... he was your father, Sam. If Dean's anything like me, he'd want to hear about this from either a doctor or a family member. And I'm neither of those things."

"...yet..." He mumbled quietly, just as quickly trying to cover up his comment by loudly clearing his throat.

"Huh?" Nadia questioned with drooping eyelids. Sam immediately noticed how tired she was, had she not been, she'd be physically twisting his arm by now, demanding he explained–in detail–what he meant.

"Well you look alert! C'mon, let's go find Dean and head back to Missouri's, there's nothing else for us to do here. You look like you could use a year's worth of sleep." he joked, hooking an arm around the back of her neck, other hand in his jeans pocket, as they walked together back in the direction of where Emily's room had been.

"Let me tell ya, Sammy-boy. Miss America's started watchin' her back already, apparently 'drained-psychic' is pretty much impossible to find unattractive these days... and most difficult to compete against." chuckling softly in reply, Sam was relieved to provoke a humorous comment from her.

The drive back to Missouri's was silent and somber, nothing like death of a family member to make silence seem so loud. At one point in particular, Sam became so annoyed by the absence of sound that he fiddled with the car stereo, the cassette in the machine–Judas Priest mix tape–was set on bleeding-ears loud.

Any other instance and Dean would have clapped his hand on his little brother's shoulder and actually admit–face to face–that he was proud of Sammy, finally listening to good music. Instead, Sam felt his brother's knuckles slam into his right shoulder blade from the back seat. Where Nadia had finally succumbed to the release of much needed, and heavily feared slumber. Resting comfortably against Dean's chest, gently cradled by one of the hunter's toned arms; greatly comforted by his strong grip and the soft caress of a calloused hand along her tear-chilled cheek.

The entire trek from Emily's room to the car, she denied being tired, argued with the brother's about her need to relax... that they would help take care of Emily's funeral arrangements, anything to keep the young woman from getting overwhelmed by grief or crumbling from a nervous breakdown. Even as she stumbled, vision blurred with weariness she insisted that she'd be fine. Almost chided Dean for jumping into the backseat of the Impala with her, until he told her to be quiet and lean on him.

She was out like a light before they even left the parking lot.

"Dude, turn it off... you want to wake her up?" he grumbled lowly.

"Sorry, it's just... usually I don't mind quiet, you know that. But this, this silence? What just happened, what she's just been through? The silence is driving me nuts, man." giving the tiniest of shrugs, Dean signified his agreement. "How's she doing anyway?"

Sighing deeply, he swivelled his head back to where he could closely examine the multitude of bruises and scrapes that marred the huntress's peaceful face... not to mention the nasty gash, covered by a fresh, annoying, and bastardly itchy square of gauze. For a moment he became enraptured by how mysteriously childlike and vulnerable women looked when they slept...

"...Dean?"

"Hmm... yea, she's fine. Fine as she's going to be for a while." the older brother stated calmly after being ripped from his quiet musings; inwardly, each muscle screamed to never let her go, never let her get hurt again. Unfortunately, he knew for a fact that demon hunting had minor to major injuries listed as part of the job description; he couldn't protect her from harm any more than he could lick his elbow. It was inevitable, someday she was going to get hurt during a hunt. Though, if he couldn't be there to lessen the wounds, or swoop in to be the superman of the hour to rescue her... he'd be seeing red, killing any and every evil thing that might stand between Nadia and himself. Corporeal or not.

Somehow, through all the turmoil that ran rampantly in his head, he knew things would be alright for her. So long as he was there, offering his hand for her to hold... so long as she wasn't alone, she'd smile again. In his moment of hopeful thought, or clarity, he began to wonder: was she dreaming? If so, was it happy, was it safe and warm were her mind wandered? Studying her sleeping face, he didn't find any answers, just more questions. It was peaceful, yes, but blank; no emotion broke through, twisting her features into any set expression. He thought on how, since a very young age, he'd mastered doing the same thing so neither Sammy or their father could tell that he was having the same terrible nightmares that plagued his sleep since the fire... he'd especially done it for Sammy, so he didn't get scared or ask questions. It was a sure bet to him that Nadia had done the same for Em. Perhaps, even with her sister gone, she was still stuck in the habit of concealing her dreams... maybe she was hiding something from them now. He didn't know, she was unreadable.

She simply slept.

And right now, that was good enough to keep him from worrying too much. He'd do everything to be the rock that steadied her resolve when she woke, but for now she would lay sleeping in the arms that would welcome her over and over again until death claimed one or both of the hunters.

Nadia's mind, however, was far from peaceful; what was once her escape from the terrible things she'd seen and fought in her life, now mirrored and multiplied it's cruelty. There were no colors, no smiling faces, no-one hazing or accusing either. No, it was much, much worse. For as far as her third eye could see, there was darkness. Stark black that stretched over every inch of her imagination; never faltering, never fading, nothing lay in contrast. Just inky black space, where she seemed to float helplessly, alone and terrified. Burned by an inhuman cold, scorching her down to the core of her bones.

Emily's gone, so is John... but still, he thinks I'm evil. I can't be, can I? I don't feel evil... just hurt. Betrayed by my past, now my only glimmer of hope is my future, the brother's. My whole future are these two young men. She thought numbly, suspended in the nothingness. But how long will that even last? How long until their view of me mimics their father's... Her mind continued to twist and turn with thoughts while she dangled motionlessly in the astral plane. I'm jealous... I am, they've had their father for this long. Do they have any idea how lucky they were to be able to cling to him for so long? What the hell am I thinking? I... I'm losing my mind, aren't I? This is mindless rambling... this plane is too cold for me to cope with life. When did I even fall asleep...?

A single tear, serving as a harsh souvenir of the dream, slid down her cheek as she shot towards consciousness. But something restrained her from waking, yanking her backwards with a tug similar to the bouncing sensation of bungee-jumping. Tossing her back into the sticky web of empty, rambling thoughts. Leaving her helpless to whatever could come next. The empty void suddenly filled with the crackling explosion of large yellow glowing eyes.

Oh god, no... please! She mentally pleaded. Take me back to the warm and loving faces in the car... not this, anything but this! The silent pleas went unheard in the murky void surrounding the glowing orbs.

High-voltage electricity struck her as the unspeakable images began their onslaught. Big Bad's big game plan played out before her, too weak to turn away; like a deer in headlights she observed the Demon's bloody victory. Inside, her blood ran cold as she witnessed what she and Sam would do if the creature had it's way. The things they would lay to waste, the extensive massacres they would carry out with evil smiles of satisfaction. If she had any control over herself whatsoever, she would have cried out in despair at what ended the sinister presentation. Laughing evilly, truly enjoying the pain she caused, evil-Nadia slew the one good thing left in her life with her bare hands: Dean.

Jerking awake with a half-choked, strangled cry, the huntress caught both brother's completely off guard. "NO!" she gasped, panting heavily in result of her sudden awakening. A battle of indecision between breathing and trying to force out a scream waged heatedly within the gifted young woman; clinging to Dean's arm for dear life somewhere in the midst of it all. Eyes wide in primal fear and a ruthless-if-need-be protection of what/who she clung to.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger. That works best if blood's allowed to circulate." Dean exclaimed soothingly "What'd you dream about?"

Slowly, Nadia loosened her death-grip on his arm, easing herself back into reality; eyes flicking quickly from side to side.

"Nothing..." pausing for a beat she licked her dry lips "at first there was nothing but solitude and cold. I... felt utterly alone... started to wake up, I think. Then I... I was thrown back, I saw his eyes. It was unnerving... then I saw–oh god, the things I saw. I know what his plans for us were..." Fear trickled from her voice, planting itself deeply within her small audience. Unshakable apprehension claimed the man at the wheel, cautiously he snuck a glance at the couple in the backseat every couple of seconds. His feelings stood bare and vulnerable as he finally found the courage to question.

"Were?" Sam's voice trembled; behind him, his brother fumed dangerously, hating the reaction Big Bad could so easily elicit from his two companions with a passion.

"The two of you aren't his puppets...never will be, not if I've got anything to say about it!" Dean huffed unwaveringly, body rigid and stony as his words.

"It would be damn near impossible now, considering all we've lived through so far. But... had our lives been any different, yes, we would have been his mindless pawns. He likes to believe he can still turn us, despite the fact that he's mad, and that there's just too much going for us; harboring us on the side of good..." she agreed, laying her head against the mass of carved muscles beneath Dean's shirt.

"Like what?" the driver questioned again, spitting his question more out of fear than the anger it came across as. While Nadia couldn't be bothered by her student's tone, Dean's temper began to boil at his sibling's attitude; earning the soft placement of a feminine hand over his heart as Nadia, calm and collected in her thoughtful daze, hoped to calm him.

"Dean, for one..." Sam went silent and his eyes grew soft and distantly focused on the road, "my tattoo's are another big help for me... the colt being in our possession...and you're learning to control your powers from me." she stated, listing things off, oblivious to how Dean lifted his head triumphantly at topping said list. "Not to mention our upbringing... the final assurance, in my mind, happened when I lost my parents and you, your mother and Jess: their blood, not falling on our skin. That's how he got to the children like us, that's his method of collection, he could control them more easily that way." Both brother's froze, however, when they thought back to Sam's second fire. He'd become aware of Jessica's presence on the ceiling only because of the droplets of her blood falling on his forehead..

"That's not entirely true for me, Nadia..." He admitted squeamishly to the rearview mirror, leading the huntress to cock her head in dewy-eyed confusion.

"No?"

"The first time... from what I've been told, yes; by an inch or so. But with Jessica..." distantly, Nadia slowly scanned the area around her, brows furrowed in intense thought.

"Still, that's one thing against all other factors keeping you from his grasp. That and your susceptibility to possession can easily be taken care of... just give me a couple of more days and we'll all be totally immune. I've got an old friend coming to town who can help out where your brother and I can't."

For as sure of herself as Nadia sounded, Sam had a fairly disquieted feeling that she was hiding something. Especially since she had been so shaken when he found her back in the hospital. Asking if I thought she was evil? HA! He thought, But I have to wonder what brought that on...

"Hey Nadia?" the youngest of the trio piped after a long drawn out moment of silence.

"Huh?"

"Do you have the ability to control minds?"

"Tele-coercion? Ha! No... what a ridiculous ability. No good can ever come of such a waste of power. Why?" Dean listened thoughtfully to the outlandishly casual exchange, realizing that his brother had yet to really be fully informed of his instructor's qualifications.

"So what powers do you have? I don't remember if you've told us about them already or not."

"Aside from mind control, the better question would be what abilities I don't have." she quipped dryly, attempting and failing to focus on something past the Impala windows as the car traveled onward.

"Okay, what about the thing with your eyes... what's that one all about?" Dean nearly laughed aloud at how perfectly normal Sammy made the unique ability sound. Though he had to give it to him, it was a good question.

"Honestly? I didn't even know about that little 'gem' until this morning. I mean, I've got a couple of theories in mind... I'm just not entirely sure, though–"

"What kind of theories?" the youth interrupted.

Geez, what's with the curiosity? Does this kid have nine lives or something?! She thought, stunned.

"Uh... I, um, well... it might be a side effect of a psychic energy boost, ya know, like somebody's clipped jumper-cables from my powers to the Energizer Bunny... um, or, my abilities are still maturing and we're starting to see a sneak preview of things to come. It could even be a visual indication that I'm having some adrenaline-induced psychic punch. It could be a variety of things... some people might even go so far as to jump to the conclusion that it's the first signs of me going evil..."

"Now that's bullshit." Dean insisted. "If that were the case, why was Cristin so freaked when they made their grand entrance last night?" he argued, vigorously rubbing at the girl's upper arms after feeling her shudder harshly upon the mention of her deceased/possessed friend.

"Is that when it started happening?" Nadia asked.

"You don't know when it happens?"

"Well... since it's a new power, no, not really; I'm starting to pick up on what happens while my eyes are like that... but aside from that, I don't even understand it's purpose." she explained dazedly, while her fingers played with the cuff of Dean's leather jacket.

"What sorts of things are you picking up on?"

"Hmm... oh, uh, air-pressure shifts, senses sharpen, abilities enhancing tenfold..." she listed distantly.

"You exorcized the demon controlling Sammy just by telling it to get the fuck out." the gratitude in the older brother was more than obvious to both younger hunters.

"I did?" Dean nodded with his telltale smirk playing upon his lips as Nadia stared in wonderment; Sam glanced back worriedly.

"Don't you remember?"

"Guess not... a lot of last night is kinda blurry, but that might be because of whatever the good doctors at the hospital have me on. I mean, it took me a while there to remember what happened to me that could have possibly required stitches, I don't remember how or when I fell asleep in the car OR why Sam found me asleep in the hall earlier–that's a huge fuckin' mystery to me." Dean's grip tightened slightly as she divulged the last bit of information, shooting his brother a 'What the hell happened?' look.

"Asleep in the hall?" he asked incredulously.

"Yep..." she exclaimed, distantly.

"Care to elaborate on that one?"

"The way I found her, it looked like she fell and hit her head on something..." The younger man tried to explain before his brother held up a hand to silence him, his focus never leaving the girl lying against him.

"And you?"

With a sigh, Nadia let her head fall back limply until she was eye to eye with Dean looking sadly at him as she began to chew on her bottom lip. Don't make me talk about it yet, please Dean. Without a second thought, he nodded lightly; he'd allow the rest of their ride back to Missouri's to be one of silence, and, he hoped, of rest on Nadia's part. Bobbing his head rather quickly, Dean gave the girl in his arms a goofy little peck on the face, just missing her mouth.

Nadia chuckled softly at the quick action and the brief grin that laughed with her, just before darkness swirled in her vision once more and she found herself falling into a more forgiving slumber.

Yay, update complete... for now. For those wondering, just so I don't leave anybody confused as fuck... Nadia is slipping into hunter-mode, so to speak, so she's constantly in a daze, hyper-alert, and more than likely won't easily be pulled into a conversation concerning the late Emily. Every other possible question as to what happens next will be answered--hopefully--in the next couple of updates. Until then, review cuz you rock!

Later darlings!