Sam knocks on the door of room 17. He's standing in the hallway of the Sunset Motel, which is still quiet at this hour. It takes a while before someone answers the door, but when he's about to knock for the second time, the door opens.
"Sam…", Zoë says with raspy voice and lets him in.
As he enters the room, he notices the shotgun in her right hand, which she held behind the door incase she had bad company, but that's not all. Zoë, still dressed in her Snoopy shirt and shorts looks like she's having the worst hang over ever. Her respiration is fast and she looks tired and upset.
"Are you alright?", Sam checks.
"Yeah, just a bad night", she mumbles.
"You were fine when I left", he's surprised by her state.
She doesn't respond and strolls to the bathroom. Sam hears the water falling down in the sink, she's probably washing her face.
"I left my phone here somewhere", Sam informs before Zoë asks about his visit.
No answering, not even a smart comment, nothing. Curious and even a bit worried, Sam peeks around the corner. Zoë is leaning on the sink with one hand, pressuring her other hand against her head. She squints, she seems in pain.
"You're not alright", Sam sees and walks in to support her.
"It's nothing, just leave me alone", she states annoyed.
She walks past Sam into the room and turns on the TV as she's rubbing her face. Sam observers her. Something about her conditions seems familiar. Then he sees it.
"You had a nightmare, didn't you?"

Startled Zoë looks aside. Crap, he's on to her! Quickly she recovers.
"No I didn't", she huffs and looks back at the television, pretending to be distant.
Sam keeps glaring at her as the local TV station brings them the latest news. She tries to concentrate on the screen, but feels Sam's burning eyes. Then she turns to him.
"What?", Zoë cries out.
"You're lying", Sam knows.
"No, I'm not, Sam", she sighs and turns up the volume.
"I'm not gonna drop it. You were dying to know about my visions the moment you heard I have them", he steps between her and the TV, blocking her view.
"I'm watching that", she notifies annoyed.
"And I'm talking to you", Sam returns.
She gives him a look that could kill and steps around him to have a clear view on the television again.
"Killing headaches, dizziness right after you wake up. The feeling as you've been hit by a truck, the blurry visions. You have them", he pressures, talking to her back.
"Would you shut up for one second?", Zoë cries out irritated.
It's just now that the news on television catches Sam's attention. She's not yelling at him for nothing, or just because she doesn't wanna talk about it, there's actually something interesting on the news.
"A man has been found dead this morning in his own home. The Paragould Police Department has identified the man as Bill Van Dyke. The PPD cannot rule out murder considering the circumstances involving his death are suspicious. Local authorities claim that the family was home during time of death", the reporter on air says.
"Crap", Zoë curses as she realizes what is going on.

"What?", Sam wants to know.
"He died the same way Robert Shire did", she explains, still watching the screen as another reporter at the scene gives more information about the incident.
"The girl's father?", Sam checks, remembering the surname of 'Shire' engraved on the tombstone of the bones Zoë burned last night.
Zoë nods confirming as the reporter in the studio takes over again.
"Bill Van Dyke was well known in the community and was principal of Woodrow Wilson Elementary in Paragould…".
Zoë doesn't hear the rest of the report but stares at the school building which is shown. She recognizes that building.
"It's her", she now knows.
"That can't be. You salted and burned her", Sam brings to mind.
"I'm aware of that, Sam. But something is keeping her here, an object maybe. I don't know. Damn it, damn it, DAMN IT!", she curses as she opens her closet and takes out her suit.
"Guess you're staying in town a bit longer than expected", he concludes.
"Guess so, but I don't have time for this crap", Zoë sighs as she takes of her shirt and puts on a white blouse without embarrassment.
Sam looks away as he remembers the awkward moment in her room in Minnesota. For a moment he considers offering her help on the case, but he's quite sure she will reject anyway. Hastened she gets into her trousers which she just got out of the drycleaner plastic.
"How can you be sure it's Laura?", Sam asks.
"Laura was a 4th grader at Woodrow Wilson Elementary", she explains.
"So? What did Van Dyke ever do to her?", he questions.
"Her teacher knew about the abuse, my guess is that the principal didn't do anything about it", Zoë presumes.
"How do you know that her teacher knew? How can you possibly know that already? Admit it, you see things", Sam's sure of it.

Zoë sighs and looks at him. She realizes he was going to find out about her special ability sooner or later. But can she trust Sam? He's special, just like she is and neither he or she have a clue what is going on with them. She barely trusts herself right now. Not to mention, he's a fellow hunter, who she only met yesterday.
"I have dreams too".
The confession is just as a surprise to Sam as it is to Zoë, did she just say that out loud? Overwhelmed Sam stares at her, but he's not sure if he's so stunned by the information of the statement itself or because of the fact that Zoë just told him the truth. Disorientated he looks away as it slowly starts to sink in what this means; he's not alone.
"You have visions, just like me?", he asks.
"Not entirely", Zoë says as she buttons her black jacket. "You dream about the future, I dream about the past".
"Like flashbacks?", Sam questions.
"Something like that, yeah. But there's no possible way I could know these things, you know? Most of the time I don't even know the people involved and I was never actually there", she tells with frustration in her voice.
"Tell me 'bout it…", Sam huffs.
Zoë smiles and looks up. A feeling she hasn't felt for years come to her. Relief, as if a weight just fell of her shoulders now that she finally told someone about the secret she has been carrying around. She wishes she could just blur it all out right now, all the other stuff too, bus she can't, it's not a wise thing to do. Sure she can share some things when it's convenient, but there will always be some issues she can't talk about. Besides, there's little time and still a lot to do. She puts on her pumps and takes her FBI identification out of her duffel and puts it in her inside pocket.
"That's how you pick your cases, don't you?", Sam now understands how Zoë can get to a scene with not much visual evidence, at least not visible for outsiders.
"First I didn't, because I didn't understood the dreams, but then I thought: Hey, I'm having these flashbacks for a reason, I might as well check it out", she tells.
"Good point", Sam realizes.
Maybe he should start seeing the dreams as clues as well. If he would had listened to the visions in the first place, Jessica might still be alive right now. He watches Zoë get ready to go undercover as she binds her hair together in a knot. She seems stressed out and upset, Sam hasn't seen her this restless before. He doesn't understand why she's acting like this, so the case is going to take a little longer than expected, it's not the end of the world. Something is up.

"What's going on, Zo?", Sam asks upfront.
For a moment she stops with what she was doing and places her hands on her hips. She takes a breath as she searches for words, deciding what she can tell him without giving him too much information.
"I'm on bit of a time schedule", she admits. "I need to finish this case before tonight".
"What kind of time schedule?", he asks curious.
"It's personal", she cuts off immediately.
Her eyes stare into his, it's clear she is absolutely not going to talk about this. Intimidated by her gaze, he decides not to dig further.
"What happens if you can't free her spirit in time?"
"I'll have to leave town, case closed or not", she answers simple as she gathers some stuff.
"What? You're just gonna give up?", Sam disapproves disbelieving.
"I've seen hunters do it before", she says with a tone straightening her back and giving him her full attention.
"So? Then they suck!", Sam cries out.
Zoë chuckles, finding his words ironic, but the young Winchester isn't finished yet.
"Laura will keep haunting this town and every one who might have the slightest connection with her death. Do you have any idea how many could end up dead?", Sam tries to make her realize.
"I don't… have… a choice", she states, pronouncing her words slowly.
"You do", Sam corrects.
"And what's that, smart ass?", Zoë responds, not really that interested.
She has gathered her keys and her motorcycle helmet, now she picks up her Nokia from her cupboard, apparently she intends to leave right now. Nevertheless Sam doesn't seize his lecture.
"Let us help you", he offers.
She slowly turns her head and stares at him for a brief moment, then she laughs out loud.

"No way", she chuckles.
"Why not?", Sam wants to know.
"Because I don't team up with others. It makes you vulnerable. You start to trust people you shouldn't trust and when it all goes wrong, people die", she explains clearly.
"What about covering each other's backs, looking out for your partner?", Sam brings up the bright side of cooperation.
"Apparently that doesn't work for me, and believe me; I've experienced it", Zoë states.
Sam's not sure what the young woman means by that, but he can read from her eyes that whatever happened, it still hurts her. He keeps quiet for a moment, but then continues with a calm tone.
"Hear me out. We can take over the case completely and you can go wherever you need to go. We're in the same hunting field, so why shoot at each other in order to get rid of the competition when we can split up. Dean and I can handle this", Sam ensures.
"I believe you can, but I'm not the type who lets someone else do the dirty laundry. I got this one", she insists and heads for the door. "Now if you'd excuse me, I have a crime scene to investigate".
Zoë holds the door and Sam sighs. There seems to be no way to get through to that woman! Slightly frustrated he walks outside and she locks the door. The dim thumps of her heels echo through the hallway as she hastily walks to the parking lot as she takes out her sunglasses. Just before she walks out, Sam stops her by laying her hand on her shoulder.
"If you need help, call me", he insists.
"You know I won't, Sammy", she reacts annoyed and escapes from his grip.
"Don't call me Sammy", he makes clear loud enough for her to hear it.
She doesn't respond and walks over to her Harley Davidson as she puts on her helmet. Without any hesitation she starts her engine and drives off, not even bothering to say goodbye. Sam sighs, and he thought his brother was hopeless. Defeated he turns to the Impala, which is parked next to the entrance. A thin layer of dust covers the black car, which seem to boil in the early morning sun. It's awfully quiet. No ear blasting rock song from the radio, no Dean jamming on his air guitar. He glares through the window of the passengers side and finds his brother fast asleep. He can't see Dean's eyes because of the black sunglasses he's wearing, but his head rests half against the window, tilted slightly backwards. Sam's thoughts go back to the day before yesterday, when they parked the car in front of the pharmacy and Dean scared the crap out of him by slamming his fist against the window.

Of course, Sam can't resist to do the same thing and hits the window right on the spot where Dean's leaning against on the other side.
"Kelly Clarkson!", Dean cries out in total shock as he almost jumps up against the hardtop of the car, making a snoring sound right after.
With a big smile on his face Sam walks around the car just as victoriously as his brother did the other afternoon and settles in the drivers seat. When he sees the startled face of his brother, he can't help but to laugh.
"Man, that's so not cool", Dean sighs with raspy voice as he rubs his face.
"Got what I came for", Sam holds up his Blackberry.
"Did you had to wake me up for that?", Dean takes of his glasses and squints against the bright sunlight.
"No, that was just for fun", Sam grins.
"Bitch", Dean grumbles.
"Jerk", Sam returns with a smile. "I have another update by the way".
"Oh yeah? What's that?", Dean asks not really that interested, resting his head against the windshield again.
"You can call Denise that you're staying in town for a couple of days", Sam informs.
He got Dean's attention alright. He looks up at his younger brother and although he can barely keep his eyes open, Sam can read from his face that he's curious for more info.
"What? Werewolf turned out to be a grizzly?", Dean says.
"Not really, but there's till a case here", Sam tells his brother as he takes the car keys out of his pocket.
"So? It's Sullivan's case, no finger of mine which is touching that", Dean makes clear.
"Aren't you happy you can hang out with Denise?", Sam asks, hoping to change his mind.
"Oh no, I know what you're doing", Dean sits up straight and grins, knowing he's on to him. "You're trying to make this seem all bright and shiny, but this isn't about Denise. Spill it".
Sam sighs. Damn, there goes his master plan. Although he gets the impression that Dean hates Zo, Sam decides to tell the truth.
"I think Zoë needs help", he admits.
"The last time you thought that I ended up in a bridal suite with a shapeshifter and you ended up in a septic tank with our damsel in distress", Dean recalls. "Did she ask for your help?"
"No, not really", Sam says.
"Did she except your offer?", Dean asks again.
"No, but…"

Sam doesn't finishes his line, but just looks over at his brother. One glare at him and Dean knows enough, she rejected.
"Then we aren't helping her", Dean decides.
"Come on, Dean. We can't leave her like that", Sam tries.
"She's a big girl, Sam. And a damn good hunter too. She'll be fine", Dean ensures.
"I don't know, man. It's just not right. She told me she's on some sort of time schedule or something", Sam sighs.
"Yeah, her period. Guessing she's in one right now", Dean says smartly.
He loses his interests in the conversation and crosses his arms in front of him after he puts on his sunglasses. Tired but satisfied he tugs deeper into the seat.
"She's gonna leave town tonight, finished or not", Sam clarifies.
Dean takes off his glasses again and looks aside.
"You really think she would leave a job unfinished?", Dean questions.
"Apparently", Sam shrugs.
"Must be pretty damn important then", the eldest concludes. "I guess it wouldn't hurt if me stay till tonight, see if she makes her deadline. But after that, we're off to Texas. I was looking forward to that wolf hunt".
"Sure?", Sam checks.
"Yeah sure", Dean takes out his phone and blinks a few times, as if he's has difficulty not to shut his eyes.
Sam starts the car and immediately Creedence Clearwater Rivival's Looking Out My Back Door sounds from the radio. By the time Sam is about to leave the parking lot, Dean has already looked up Denise's phonenumber and is on the phone with her right now.
"Yeah, I'd love to get together again!... Well, I'll probably have to leave town in a few days, so… tonight? Yeah, sounds great", Dean gives Sam an exaggerated wink and a thumbs up.
"At her place", Sam whispers to his brother.
"One sec, sweetheart", Dean presses his hand on the microphone and looks aside. "Having plans for tonight, Romeo?"

Sam gives him a look and Dean turns back to Denise, who started talking to him again.
"Your place, you say? At eight? Cool, I'll see you tonight then… looking forward to it too!... See ya", they both hang up and Dean smiles as if he just bought the winning lottery ticket.
"I'm one lucky bastard, you know that?", he grins.
Sam shakes his head chuckling, he's never going to learn. Just as Sam decides to turn right, a weird soft roar sounds from inside the car.
"What the hell was that?", Sam looks around.
"My GPS is telling you to make a left", Dean explains.
The youngest of the two looks aside at his brother who's pressing his hand on his hungry stomach. Apparently Dean thinks it takes too long before the penny drops.
"Dude! I'm hungry and you wanna turn right when there's a McDonald's on the left?", he cries out.
Now Sam looks over to the left and spots the large pole with the yellow 'M' on top, right next to the Sunset Motel. He laughs, he should have known.
"I see", he grins and makes a left. "Drive thru?"