"Hey sleepy…" Dean's low voice rang. I groaned as Dean ran his fingers through my hair, his thumb rubbed over my cheek, "C'mon babe...we gotta get up."

"Mhm...Nope...Time is it?"

He chuckled, "Almost six."

"Fuck." My head was throbbing. We had closed the bar down last night. Well, technically, this morning.

"I told Sam this is stupid."

I ran my hand up his chest, "Yeah, but he is your brother. And sometimes you gotta take one for the team."

I watched his face and the corners of his lips twitch, "How you feelin this morning?"

"Rough." We just laid there for a moment, I ran my thumb over the stubble on his chin, over his bottom lip, "It was a hell of a week...I'm up like fifteen grand from pool and poker."

"Really?"

I nodded, "Yep...some of those people really sucked. So breakfast is on me."

He chuckled low and pulled me against his bare chest. Even though he was laying right here with me, he seemed so distant. I turned my nose and placed small kisses down his sternum. Dean groaned, "Don't start anything…"

He pulled my face back and kissed my lips quickly, resting his forehead against mine, "...We do not have time for that."

My lips searched up his neck, pressing firmly into the base of Dean's jawline. He groaned again, "Fuck babe...you need to stop while you're ahead."

I ignored him, running my hands down his stomach. He grabbed my shoulders, flipped me onto my back, straddling, pinning me against the bed. I wriggled and he pushed his weight down on my hips, "Any second Sam is gonna knock on that door and we will have to go..."

I grinned and he sighed, "Dammit Jen."

His lips met mine firmly, lingering, taking his time, "...You know the luck we ha-"

He was cut off, "Dean! Jen! Let's get going!"

Dean smiled down at me, "See what I mean?"

It had been a couple of weeks since we left Florida. No hunts had turned up, we spent the time doing absolutely nothing. Which, weirdly, felt great. The last week had been a drunken blur during the night and days filled with stuff we never got to do: mini golf, a couple of town festivals, a few movies, and some other stuff. Hell, even Sam had lightened up a little bit. But two days ago Sam had started in on Dean. We were close to Kansas and Sam wanted to visit their mother's grave. Dean wasn't on board and they were fighting about it again in the front seat,

"Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid."

Sam threw his hands up, "Why?"

Dean hit the steering wheel, "Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave...there, there was no body left after the fire. "

"She has a headstone."

"Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger?"

"Dean, that's not the point."

"Well then, enlighten me, Sam."

Sam's voice raised, "It's not about a body, or...or a casket. It's about her memory, okay?"

"Hmm." Dean glanced into the rear-view mirror at me. I forced an encouraging smile and he rolled his eyes. This was not something he wanted to do. I had heard about it all last night, almost non-stop.

Sam started again, "And after Dad it just... just feels like the right thing to do."

"It's irrational, that's what it is." Dean grumbled.

Sam threw his hands up, "Look, man. No one asked you to come."

"Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon Ash has something...We should be hunting that son of a bitch down."

"That's a good idea, you and Jen should. Just drop me off, I'll hitch a ride, and I'll meet you guys there tomorrow.

"Right...Ha.. Stuck ... stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you show up? I don't want to put Jen through that. No thanks."

I started laughing, Dean turned, "Shut-up Jen."

I laughed harder, "Aww."

He reached over and smacked my knee, "Shush."

In return, I lightly punched his forearm. Dean, never taking his eyes off the road, grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. I laid my chin on his arm, on the back of the seat. Sam glanced over, "Would you two get a room?"

I sighed, a little bitter, "I had a room...and a shower...and a bed. Until someone decided for an impromptu road trip."

"Oh, you're fine." Sam insisted.

"I wasn't really looking forward to sleeping in the back of the car again." I teased.

Sam scoffed, "Yeah, cause you two really just sleep."

In all reality, that's all me and Dean had done was catch up on sleep. We had gone out, partied and then passed out pretty much every night. But this was just too fun to pass up, "What do you think we do in the car Sam?"

Dean shot me a confused look, Sam missed it and made a disgusted face, "Come on...I eat in here."

I tried not to crack, "All over…"

"Ugh...shut up, shut up. Shut-up!" Sam's voice raised, Dean was biting his lip, trying not to laugh. I leaned over, whispering, "Right where you're sitting."

Sam jumped, squirming, obviously uncomfortable. Dean broke down, howling, "Ah Sammy, you should have seen your face...Holy shit, Jen... Your awesome."

"You are as bad as him." Sam turned towards the window, mumbling, not amused. I turned and laid my cheek on Dean's arm, he looked over, smirking. I winked and he started chuckling again.

The graveyard was cold and dreary, the weather had turned from bad to worse. The sky had let loose. Jen stuck close to Dean who was wandering in and out of the gravestones. Jen scoffed, "You know...I feel kinda naked being in one of these during the day. It creeps me out."

Dean chuckled, "Yeah, I know it's weird."

Sam approached his mother's grave. Her headstone was a simple white granite and read: MARY WINCHESTER, 1954-1983, In Loving Memory. He pulled out a knife and his father's dog tags, sighing, "I think, um ... I think Dad would have wanted you to have these. "

He dug a small hole and dropped them in, covering them with the wet dirt, "I love you, Mom."

Sam stood up and stared pensively at the stone. Nearby Jen and Dean were walking along the path. Dean refused to go anywhere near the grave. Jen didn't know what to do, she didn't want to push Dean but this was something that Sam needed to do. She was watching Sam, curious, she spoke softly, "Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"What…" Jen was hesitant, she didn't want to add fuel to the fire, "...What was your mother like?"

Dean stopped in his tracks, surprised by her inquiry. Jen watched the emotions spraying across his face, "I'm sorry Dean...you don't have to say an…"

"No, Jen..It's fine. I was just thinking...She was beautiful, kind...an amazing woman and mother. She used to play with me all the time...go fish was one of my favorites. Every single night she would tell me that 'angels were watching over me'. She always made grilled cheese and tomato and rice soup. She had me make apple pie with her every week."

"Tomato and rice soup?"

Dean glanced down and smiled, "You don't like it?"

"I think tomato is disgusting I'm guessing adding some rice doesn't make it any better."

He chuckled, and then his face fell, "The thing I remember the most is the way she would look at us...Sammy and me. She loved us so much, you could see it in her eyes every time she would look at us."

His voice cracked, Jen wrapped her arm around his hip and rested her head on his shoulder. Dean stared at the ground, Jen was lost. Thinking about a dimpled little boy with green eyes eating tomato soup. Dean interrupted her thoughts, "Hey, Jen...take a look at this."

"Yeah…" There was a tree that was beginning to wilt. It was within the perfect circle of dead grass and plants surrounding a grave. Jen bit her lip, "Well that's not creepy at all."

Dean nodded, crouching down, fingering through the dead flowers, "Nothing weird about this."

She squatted next to him, reading the gravestone. Everything was dead. The vegetation looked like there had spent a month in the desert. Jen spotted a groundskeeper a ways over. She got up, jogging towards him. Dean followed in her wake. "Excuse me!"

When Sam was done, he looked around for the others. Jen and Dean were talking to the groundskeeper. He watched them shake the man's hand and take a card. They walked back and as Sam fell into step, Dean began talking, "Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college; funeral was three days ago."

Sam was confused, "And?"

Dean scoffed, "And? You saw her grave. Everything dead around it, in a perfect circle? You don't think that's a little weird?"

"Maybe the groundskeeper went a little aggro with the pesticide.."

Jen cut him off, "No. We asked...Guy said no one can explain it. They have never had a problem like this before. They said it just happened suddenly, like over night."

Sam stopped at the car, "Okay, so what are you thinking?"

Dean leaned on the Impala, "I dunno. Unholy ground, maybe?"

Sam shakes his head, "Un...Unbelievable."

Dean was appalled, "What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the, the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?"

"Yeah, bu…"

Dean continued, "Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the, the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough."

Sam turned away, starting to get angry with his brother. Dean rolled his eyes, "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."

"It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?"

"So?"

"So... are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?"

Jen jumped in, "Sam...if this was anywhere else, you would be all over this."

"No, hold on Jen...Sam? What else would it be about?"

Sam sighed heavily and opened the car door, "You know, just forget about it."

Dean jumped in and started the car, still jawing, "You believe what you want, Sam, but… I let you drag my ass out here, the least we could do is check this out."

These two were worse than an old married couple sometimes, "Jen? You got that address?"

Dean pulled the Impala out, and I grabbed the piece of paper out of my jacket pocket, "Yeah, the girl's dad is a professor and works in town."

They kept shooting each other annoyed glances throughout the ten minute drive. Dean parked the car in front of the small college. We walked up the stairs in silence to Professor Mason's office. I reached up and rapped on the dark wood door. A tired looking middle aged man answered. He wasn't much taller than me and donned the typical liberal arts professor look.

"Dr Mason?" I inquired.

He looked at me skeptically, "Yes? What can I do for you?"

"I'm Sam. This is Dean and Jen. We were friends of Angela's. We ... we wanted to offer our condolences." Sam spoke softly.

Dr. Mason glanced between us, and then stood aside, "Please, come in."

We entered slowly, there wasn't any wall space open. If there weren't paintings, there were shelves upon shelves of books. Dr. Mason sat in a worn leather chair, opening a photo album. Sam sat next to him. Dean began flipping through a book that laid out. I wandered around the office, reading the titles.

Sam's voice was kind when he spoke again, "She was beautiful."

I had to give it to him...Even though he didn't believe there was a case, he knew how to handle the family members. Dr. Mason answer came, barely audible, "Yes, she was."

Dean slammed the book shut, startling me, "This is an unusual book."

He flipped the cover so that we could all see. It was Greek, and had a triangle carved into the cover.

Mason cleared his throat, "It's ancient Greek; I teach a course. "

Dean was clearly impatient, edgy. I wished he would calm down, this poor doctor had been through a lot, "So a car accident, that's, that's horrible."

"Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh …"

Dean nodded, "It's gotta be hard. Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence...You ever feel anything like that?"

Sam shot Dean a look, I rubbed my forehead. Dean was pushing too hard.

"I do...as a matter of fact."

Sam stared down Dean as he answered, "That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason. Especially with what you're going through."

"You know, I still phone her. And the phone's ringing before I remember that, uh ... Family's everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I... I'm just lost without her."

I forced a smile, feeling bad for the guy, "We are very sorry for your loss."

Dr. Mason looked up, "Thank you...If you guys don't mind, I have a class starting in about ten minutes."

I reached out my hand for him to shake, "We understand completely. Thank you for your time."

It was early evening when they arrived at a hotel. Dinner had been eaten in almost complete silence. Sam thought Dean was making shit up. Dean thought Sam was letting his emotions get the better of him. Jen was sick of them fighting. They were all sharing a room at a small motel with a dark interior. Nothing looked like it had been cleaned in a decade or so. Jen scoffed as she tossed her bag on the far bed, "I'd hate to run a black-light over this place."

Dean halfheartedly chuckled, "Just don't think about it."

"Uck."

"Well if we weren't chasing nothing we wouldn't have to be here." Sam mumbled under his breath. Dean swung around, "I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet."

"Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing."

Dean groaned, "Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground."

"There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father."

"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?"

Jen rolled her eyes and sat near the head of the bed. Sam started yelling, "You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore."

Dean's voice raised higher, "So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?"

Dean turned away, going through his bag. But Sam wasn't letting this one go, "I think I know what's going on here. It's the only reason I went along with you this far."

"What are you talking about?"

Sam spoke quietly, "This is about Mom's grave."

Dean scoffed, "That's got nothing to do with it."

"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad."

Dean turned with murder in his eyes. Jen jumped off the bed and got between them, pushing each of them back, "This is enough!"

They both looked down at her, surprised, "You two need to stop this shit. We work this like any other case. That means you two stow the shit until this is done. Once we know that no one is in danger you two can yell and fight all day long. Okay?"

Dean turned around and grabbed his jacket and the keys. He walked past Sam and Jen. Sam was the one to ask, "Dean, where're you going?"

"I'm going to go get a drink... Alone."

And with that he left Jen and his brother in the room, they kinda stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. Sam grabbed his laptop, Jen flipped on the TV. It was quiet except for the sitcom. After an hour or so, Sam slammed his laptop closed, "Why do you have to encourage him?"

Jen looked over, "What?"

"You know what he is like. Why won't you stand up to him?"

Jen scoffed, "Excuse you."

"I'm serious, Jen."

"Number one Sam, I don't do anything I don't want to do. Number two, there may be something here. I have never worked a case like this before, but unholy ground is pretty legit. Third I know when to pick my battles...I know there might be something here, there also may be nothing. It's our job to look into it. What do you have better to do?"

"The girl was squeaky clean."

"On the outside... People hide a lot of shit, even from those closest to them...Actually, especially to those closest to them… I think you and Dean know that better than anyone."

Sam refused to meet her eyes, "Don't know what you mean."

Jen rolled her eyes, "Uh-huh...Sure."

They blankly stared at the TV for a moment, "Why did you pick Stanford Sam?"

He turned, confused, "What?"

Jen shrugged, "It's called small talk...plus I'm curious."

He thought for a moment, caught off guard by her inquiry, "For me it was something different...A change of pace from hunting, living in the back of a car. It was the total opposite, rich kids who grew up in nice homes, people who didn't know how to hustle...Plus the full ride helped...Alright, why switch from MIT to Harvard?"

Jen smirked, "I was feeling a little uppity...Plus it was in my best interest, I could study lore without looking like a crazy person. MIT was always a little boring...And the full ride as well."

Sam paused, "MIT was boring?..You are a lot smarter than me and Dean give you credit for, aren't you?"

Jen chuckled, "Nah...just another knuckle dragger."

"Seriously Jen… How smart are you really?"

She just shrugged, "It really doesn't matter Sam."

"Well now I'm curious...I though we were making small talk."

"What do you want? IQ, ACT, SAT?"

He laughed, "All of the above."

Jen got up and grabbed a beer from the six-pack she had bought earlier, spoke quietly, "SAT was 2350. I fucked up on the ACT and scored one off perfect. My IQ is well above genius…"

She turned back to him, "And now you are going to look at me like I'm a freak, just like everyone else always has...Don't tell Dean, please."

"Why?"

Jen scoffed, feeling the well-known frustration build up in her chest, "Because people expect you to act a certain way, talk a certain way. It turns you into a circus freak. It pisses me off. I'm not like that….I am not that."

Sam spoke softly, "I don't think Dean would ever ask you to change who you are."

Jen was sullen, "I know that... I just hate it."

"Having a talent is nothing to be ashamed of."

Jen didn't answer. Sam watched her for a moment, then continued, "You play dumb a lot, don't you?"

She sat back down, eyes down cast, "No, I really don't. My personality doesn't fit what a typical person like that. I'm not a nerdy person that sits behind a computer all day. I like to work with my hands, I love hunting. I like being a knuckle dragger. I like just being, well, me... I guess with all this other guardian bullshit, it makes more sense than it ever did. "

Sam thought for a moment, "You didn't fit in there...I won't say anything, I promise."

"Thanks...Would you go back?"

Sam nodded, "Yes...If it was a possibility."

After a little bit Sam spoke softly, "Jen?"

"Hmm?"

"You know Dean is...Is having trouble, right?"

Jen hesitated, reluctant to talk about this with Sam, "I know."

"Does he talk to you about it?"

"Sometimes...kinda. Differently than most people I guess." she shrugged.

"What do you mean?"

Jen picked at the comforter, "I guess...I don't know. He has mentioned a few things. Dean isn't the most verbose man ever, so I don't push him."

"He is getting sorta messed up with this stuff."

Jen nodded, messed up wasn't the phrase she would have used. Dean would zone out sometimes and she could see him going to a darker place. She decided against telling Sam that and opted to suppress his worries, "He is distant-ish, I notice sometimes when we are... spending time together. But I mean, brooding is a good chunk of his personality so..."

"I guess you're right…What's going on with you two anyway?"

Jen glanced over and raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

"Not to be the overprotective brother but what are you doing?"

"I don't know...I care about him, Sam. A lot. I'm not planning on packing a bag and hitting the road, if that's what you're asking."

"Good...I guess I don't mind having you around...Plus, I don't think Dean can live through losing another person."

They made small talk for a really long time, until Jen glanced over to the clock. It was almost one "Shit...How drunk do you think he is gonna get? He has to drive back."

Sam sighed, "Depends on how pissed he is. You are thinking that we should go find him."

Jen nodded, "We are going to have to jack a car."

Sam rolled his eyes, "He hasn't called."

Jen stared him down, Sam rolled his eyes, "Fine."

"You got a slim jim with you?"

Sam shuffled through his bag, tossing her the thin piece of metal, "Here."

She smiled triumphantly and walked out the door. She picked an older Ford and snapped the lock up, sliding in. Pulling out the lower panel, Jen hot-wired the car and drove off. Once in town her and Sam split up the bars. For a small college town, it was jam packed. She weaved in and out of parking lots, but it didn't take her long to spot the Impala. Jen walked into the bar, it definitely wasn't the one that she normally would have picked. It was clean, for one, and the inside was packed full of college students doing shots instead of the normal backwoods scene.

I saw him at the bar talking to a girl about my age, brunette, wavy hair. I couldn't ignore the twange of jealousy in my gut. He was drunk, swaying back and forth, laughing. I watched for a moment, he held up a finger and disappeared to the back, probably to hit the head. I walked to where he had been standing, the girl glanced at me, "There is someone sitting there."

I scoffed and looked over at her, she was tall, slim, wearing a halter top and a jacket. Her make-up looked like it was straight out of a magazine, and the little green monster came back, "Not any more barbie-doll."

"Excuse me?"

"Get lost. I will settle your tab, just go away."

"Listen bitch...Fuck off."

"Jen? W-hat are youuu doing here?" Dean's voice slurred behind me, he was surprised. I had never seen him this drunk. I tried to remain calm. The girl behind me started laughing, "This is Jen? This is the girl that has you so twisted up? Ha….I could do things she couldn't even dre-."

I lost it, my temper flared. I couldn't handle this right now. I reached around, grabbing her elbow, slamming her head against the bar. Chicken-wining her, "I don't have time for this shit."

"Jesus." Dean jumped back.

A baseball bat hit the bar directly in front of my face, the bartender stared me down, "You and your friends can go miss."

I put my hands up, releasing her, "I don't want any trouble."

I grabbed Dean's wrist and drug him behind me to the ally. Once outside his free hand traveled up my hip. I slammed him against the wall, "No."

"What's-ss wrong?" I couldn't contain my temper I didn't know why I was so goddamn pissed. He hadn't done anything wrong, technically. He tried to reach out and touch me again. I smacked his hand away, "We are going back to the hotel."

He smirked, "O-kay. Do-kay."

I rolled my eyes and walked off. He staggered behind me, then I heard the crash of trash cans. Dean was laying in a pile of trash bags, laughing maniacally. Rolling my eyes, I hauled him to his feet, supporting his weight on my shoulders. We approached the Impala and I leaned him up against it, rummaging through his pockets for the keys, "Whoa...Ea-sy there."

"Shut-up!" I snapped, finding the ring of keys, opening the back door and stuffing him in. I flipped open my phone, dialing Sam.

"Did you find him?"

"Yeah...He is really fucked up...I got the car. I will meet you back at the hotel I guess. We might be in for a hell of a night."

The line went dead and I pulled the Impala out, the radio was blasting...What the fuck? It was a top forty station. I went to turn down the Pussycat Dolls but, Dean was singing loudly from the back seat,

"…Don'tcha wish your girlfriend was hot like me?..."

He kept yelling more than singing. I just rubbed my temples and drove as fast as I could, embarrassed for him. I pulled into the hotel and drug him out of the car and into the room. Sam was already here, and now Dean was singing The Lion Sleeps Tonight, for god knows what reason. Sam started laughing, "How much did he have?"

I set him down on the bed, "Enough...Dean, take your jacket off."

He took it off and Sam helped me get his boots and jeans off. Dean was snoring before we threw a sheet over him.

"You okay Jen?" Sam asked. I nodded and flipped off the bedside light.

Dean woke up to the bright light coming through the curtain. His head was pounding and he was freezing. It took him a moment to realize why...He reached over and Jen wasn't right beside him. He couldn't believe how royally he had fucked up last night and well, been fucked up. He peaked out with one eye, Sam's bed was made neatly and there was a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on the table. It felt like knives were stabbing through his temple as he glanced the other way. Jen was curled up on the far edge of the bed, wrapped in the comforter. As far away from him as she could possibly be. She was pissed.

Dean reached over and rubbed her shoulder, she jerked away. Dean hadn't realized she was awake,

"Jen?" He whispered. She just pulled the comforter closer around herself, ignoring him.

"Please, look at me." Jen still didn't respond.

"I'm sorry." He pleaded and Jen flipped over, eyes blazing.

"That's not going to cut it." She snapped.

Dean groaned, "Volume, please?"

Jen sat up, voice raising, "Oh, you don't want me to yell? How about I don't need to go looking for you in the middle of the night."

He winced at her tone and her words. God was she pissed, "Jen, I…"

"I was fucking worried...And then I find you talking to…"

Dean reached to touch her hand but she curled up, "Babe...I was just talking and drinking. That's it."

Jen's face fell, "About me."

"About stuff...I needed to vent."

Jen looked like he had just hit her, and she couldn't recover, her voice was barely audible, "Why couldn't you talk to me?"

"Jen? Are you jealous?"

She scoffed and Dean kept talking, "How the hell am I supposed to talk about you to you? Or Sam to Sam? It doesn't work like that. You have me so freaking twisted up sometimes...And Sam? Sam won't let me do anything without saying it is because of my the way I'm feeling about dad. I was just bullshitting. That's it."

Jen went to get out of the bed. Dean grabbed her hand and pulled her back into bed, against his chest. All his muscles hurt, but he held her firmly, "Please forgive me."

Jen didn't respond, just laid there in his arms. Dean chuckled, "You were worried about me?"

She grunted, the anger starting to fade away. Jen huffed. Dean nuzzled her hair, "Are we fighting?"

"We fight a lot."

"About hunting, but that's different…"

Jen bit her lip, "I don't know...You could have been hurt. You didn't have a ride back and...And I don't know."

Dean cupped her chin so he could look into her eyes, "Being serious...Were you jealous?"

Jen blushed, "Yes...I know you wouldn't do anything. I don't want to be. I trust you...But...But."

Dean kissed her forehead, "I know. It's the same way I feel when I catch a guy checking you out."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You shouldn't be though...So am I forgiven?"

Jen smirked, "For now."

She closed her eyes and thought about last night's ride back, "So? Top forty? Pussycat Dolls?"

"Shut-up"

"You have quite the vocal range." She teased.

"Quiet." He squeezed her as tight as he could.

He chuckled, "So...you wanna go get some actual work done?"

I leaned against the wall as Dean kneeled, trying to pick the lock, "Having trouble there, hot shot?"

Dean bitch faced me and I smiled. He went back to work and the lock clicked, "Yahtzee."

I shook my head and followed him in. It was definitely a young woman's apartment. Everything was decorated in pastels, textbook littered the tops of any flat surface. Dean picked up a framed picture and showed it to me. It was Angela standing with another girl about her age with black hair and a soft face. A door opened behind us, "Who the hell are you?"

I turned in time to see the girl from the photo in a robe run back into the bathroom and slam the door. Dean grabbed for the door, "Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!"

"I'm calling 9-1-1!" She yelled from the other side of the door.

Dean banged on the door, "I'm Angela's cousin!"

I raised my eyebrow, Dean shrugged. A tentative, timid voice responded, "What?"

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, "Yeah, her dad sent me over to, uh, pick up some of her stuff, my name's Alan? Alan Stanwick?"

After a moment the door cracked, "Her dad didn't say that you were coming."

Dean held up his set of keys, "Well, I mean. How else would I the key to your place?"

He laughed, trying to reassure her. I had to give it to him...smooth transition. She glanced at me, Dean scooted over, gesturing at me, "Oh...This is my girlfriend Annie."

"I'm Lindsey...Give me a second to get dressed."

She disappeared into a back room and I sighed with relief, "That could have gone a lot worse. Not bad."

Dean winked, "Freaking Jedi master."

I chuckled and Lindsey came back out, "You guys can sit down."

I nodded, Dean smiled awkwardly and we sat down. Almost immediately she started crying, Dean handed her a Kleenex from the table. Now she was sobbing, he glanced at me uncomfortably. I shrugged and Dean cleared his throat, "So. I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see. Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?"

She sniffled, "She was great...Just great. I mean, she was so... so…"

Dean pressed his lips together, "Great."

"Yeah. Yeah." She was sobbing again.

I had to suppress a laugh as Dean handed her another tissue, "Here you go. You two must have been really close, huh?"

She nodded, "We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt."

I snapped around, "Who?"

Lindsey looked over at me, "Angela's boyfriend."

Dean nodded slowly, "Right, Matt. What about him?"

"He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?" Her voice kept jumping octaves.

"That's awful." I tried to look at her reassuringly.

She nodded, "He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days."

Dean jumped on the lead he saw, "Messed up how?"

"He kept saying that he saw her everywhere."

I shot Dean a knowing look, but addressed Lindsey, "I'm sure that's completely normal. Especially with everything he was going through."

"No, he said that he SAW her. As in, an acid trip or something." She spoke quickly and frantically.

Dean pushed the tissue box towards her, "Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?"

She looked shocked, "What? No, of course not, why do you ask?"

She was definitely hiding something. Dean and me shared a quick glance, but he shrugged, "Just asking. Where did Matt live?"

She reached for a pad on the table and wrote an address down. I picked it up, "Thank you."

I was driving the Impala back to the hotel. Had to give it to Dean, something was definitely going on. Matt's house had been a disaster zone. Cops were wrong, no way it was a suicide. Dean was fiddling with the radio stations, one landed in the start of FOB, Dance Dance. I smacked his hand away, he stared me down, "No way."

I scoffed, "Yeah way. I had to listen to your drunk ass sing, you can deal with this for the three minutes it will take to get back to the hotel."

He crossed his arms the rest of the way, resigned to the fact that I won this one. Smiling, triumphant, I parked in front of the room. Dean unlocked the door quickly, and swung it inward. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed, jumping around trying to get the TV off, but I heard the title, "Next, on the Skin channel, Casa Erotica Four. A tale of two Latin beauties …"

Finally he was able to turn it off and he sat there startled, "Hey guys."

Me and Dean shared a glance, I was struggling not to laugh. Dean looked between the TV and his brother, "Awkward."

Sam let out an uncomfortable grunt, "Where in the hell were you?"

I shut the door. Dean went over to his bed and pulled his coat off, "Working my imaginary case."

Sam sat up a little straighter, "Yeah? And?"

"Well, you were right, we didn't find much…"

Sam sympathetically nodded. But I knew Dean was setting him up, "Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings."

I jumped in, "Oh and all the plants...Well the weed that he was growing was all dead. Rotten. His goldfish was dead too."

Sam raised his hand in defeat, "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here."

Dean was harsh, "Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think."

Sam nodded, accepting the situation, "So, unholy ground?"

Dean shrugged, "Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela...I have been reading this though."

"You stole her diary?" Sam was appalled.

"Technically Jen stole it." Dean looked over to me, and winked. I returned a proud smile, "Dean was reading it out loud in the car. This girl is ridiculous...too nice and way boring. Gives a new definition to 'quiet life'."

Sam looked at Dean, "What do you want to do?"

Dean shrugged, "Keep digging, talk to more of her friends."

"You get any names?" Sam reached for his shoes. Dean smiled, holding up the diary, "Are you kidding me? I have her bestest friend in the whole wide world."

I knocked on the door of Neil's home. He was supposedly Angela's best friend, "What's our cover?"

"Don't know yet...we still have a couple of...Hello…" A scrawny guy with black hair and tired eyes opened the door. Dean kept talking, "...We are grief counselors from the school."

It was all I could do to not roll my eyes. Grief counselors? That was a new one. Neil looked between the three of us, "I didn't realize the college employed grief counselors."

Dean wiggled uncomfortably, "Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. Or maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing."

"Well, I think I'm okay. Thanks."

He went to close the door but I stopped it, "You heard what happened to Matt Harrison?"

Neil paused, eyes shifting, "Yeah...yeah I did."

"Oh...You know, grief can make people do crazy stuff."

Neil tried to close the door again, but I held it firmly. His voice raised, "Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief."

"No? Then why?" Dean asked.

Neil shook his head, "It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it."

Sam jumped in, "How was Matt responsible?"

Neil gave up trying to push the door shut, "Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl...She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay."

"Ok...Thanks for your time." I smiled but as I turned I shot Dean and Sam a look. The kid was definitely a few bricks short of a load. We walked down onto the street before Dean started talking, "Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense. I mean, hell hath no fury…"

"So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?"

I sighed, "When is it ever over?"

Dean unlocked the car, "Well, there's one way to be sure."

It was dark and drizzling when we walked into the cemetery that night. I was freezing, the water had already soaked through my hoodie. Sam was jawing, "You two are insane."

I turned and walked backwards, "Why?"

"She died last week."

Dean scoffed, "So?"

Sam laughed, "Are you high?..There's not gonna be bones. There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin."

I chuckled, "Good...It's been like a week since we played 'who will upchuck first'."

Dean playfully punched his brother, "Since when are you afraid to get dirty? Huh?"

Two hours later I was sweating my ass off but soaked to the bone. Holding a flashlight so they could see. Dean was stripped down to a t-shirt, Sam and him still down in the hole, clearing the last of the dirt off the top of the coffin. Dean grabbed Sam's shovel, "Ladies first."

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean jumped out next to me, Sam grunted, "You two owe me"

He grunted as he lifted the lid, holding his breath. I moved the light to the interior: it was totally empty. "What the fuck?"

Sam looks up, "Well Dean...Something is definitely going on."

I hopped down, Dean was still in shock, "The buried the body four friggin days ago."

"Hey guys?" On the inside of the lid there was something carved. I ripped the rest of the fabric off, taking a picture with my phone. "Look at this."

Dean snapped his fingers together, "I've seen those before...Let's go."

He reached down and pulled me out, Sam jumped out behind me. We jogged to the car, all piling in. Dean put the heat on high and pulled out, "They were on the book in Dr. Mason's office."

"So is that our next stop?" I asked.

"Yes."

"No!" Sam jumped in, "It is the middle of the night! We are not bothering that poor man until the morning or until we know what those symbols actually are."

Dean huffed, "She is dropping people!"

"She only dropped one that cheated on her...Let's go back to the motel" Sam was stern. Dean grumbled, knowing that he was right. I shivered in the back seat, holding my arms tightly around myself, "Dean? Can you turn up the heat?"

"Sorry...It is as high as it goes. We will be back in like five minutes."

When Dean parked the car, I practically sprinted inside. I needed to get into some dry clothes. Shivering uncontrollably I dug through my bag, slipping my bra off under my shirt and it was dripping on the floor. Grabbing dry sweats, I turned for the bathroom, running into Dean who was standing with his jaw dropped.

"What?"

Dean just stared at me, Sam laughed, "I think you shorted out his brain."

"Why?"

Dean stuttered, "Ho-How the hell do you do that?"

"You just do…Why is it a big deal? " I rolled my eyes.

"Because it is hot as hell."

I snorted, "You cannot be serious...You horny little perv."

"Yeah I'm freaking serious."

I looked past him at Sam who shrugged, "It's kinda hot when girls do that...It's kinda like all girls have a thing for how guys reach over their heads and take shirts off"

I shook my head in disbelief, "What is wrong with guys?"

After we all had dry clothes on, me and Sam were trying to translate the symbols. I was still cold, Dean was wrapped around me, trying to warm me up as I scanned websites on my laptop. He rested his head on my shoulder, reading as well, "That's the symbol...Isn't it?"

I shook my head, "That's an epsilon...the one on the lid was a little different"

"Alright then...nerd" I elbowed him, and he squeezed me tighter, burying his face in my neck, making it difficult to concentrate. Sam cleared his throat, "If you two can keep your hands off each other for five minutes, I might have something."

Dean defiantly pulled me closer, I giggled and Sam sighed, aspirated, "Anyways...How do you feel about reanimation?"

"Necromancy?" I asked, "That's pretty dark shit."

"Are you talking about zombies?" Dean asked, the excitement in his voice palatable.

I chuckled, "Yeah...That's really black magic though. Someone is working some serious spell-work."

"Well…" Dean raised an eyebrow, his voice harsh "Who do we know that would know about ancient Greek spells and would have a reason to bring Angela back?"

Dean was even more agitated when they were standing outside Dr. Mason's home the next morning. His anger had grown overnight and now he was pounding on the door.

"Dean. Take it easy, okay?" Sam warned quietly.

Dr. Mason swung the door open, clearly surprised to see the three of them, "You're Angie's friends, right?"

Sam gently began, clearly trying to keep the situation under control, "Dr. Mason…"

"We need to talk...Now!" Dean spoke harshly.

Dr Mason was confused but opened the door wider, "Well, then, come in."

Sam thanked him and entered first. Jen grabbed Dean's arm, whispering, "Don't convict the guy before we know what's going on."

Dean scoffed, ignoring her, "You teach Ancient Greek. Tell me, what are these?"

He unfolded the paper that they had been working on last night, holding up for the professor to see. Dr. Mason stuttered, shocked, "I don't understand. You said this had something to do with Angela."

"Humor me." Dean growled.

"They're part of an ancient Greek divination ritual."

Dean shook his head, disgusted, "Used for necromancy, right?"

The professor nodded, hesitant, "That's right."

Dean continued, "See we did a little homework of our own last night. Apparently they used rituals like this one for communicating with the dead. Even bringing corpses back to life. Full-on zombie action."

The professor was clearly lost now, "Yes. I mean, according to the legends. Now, what's all this about?"

Sam and Jen shared a look. Dr. Mason wasn't acting nervous, wasn't giving any clear signs that he knew what was going on. They were having their doubts. Dean, however, wasn't, "I think you know."

"Dean?" Sam tried to call his brother off. Dean approached the professor menacingly, "Look, I get it. Okay? There are people that I would give anything to see again. But what gives you the right?

Dr. Mason backed away, knocking over a potted fern, "What are you talking about?"

Jen realized their mistake instantly but Dean was yelling now, "What's dead should stay dead!"

"What?!"

"Dean! Stop!." Jen grabbed his wrist, trying to pull him off the offensive. Dean shrugged her off, "What you brought back isn't even your daughter anymore. These things are vicious, they're violent, they're so nasty they rot the ground around them. I mean, come on, haven't you seen Pet Cemetery?"

Dr. Mason stared at him, mouth agape, "You're insane. Get out of my house!"

Dean grabbed the collar of his shirt, "Where is she? Where are you hiding her?!"

Jen and Sam both rushed Dean, pulling him away, "That's enough!"

Jen shoved his face towards the fallen pot, "Look Dean. The plants are green. She can't be here...You saw Matt's place."

"You people are insane! I'm calling the police!"

Dean pulled out of their grip, storming out of the door, striding down the steps. Sam and Jen on his heels.

Sam turned Dean around to face him, "What the hell is the matter with you, Dean?"

"Back off." Dean growled.

"That man is innocent! He didn't deserve that!"

"Okay, so she's not here, maybe he's keeping her somewhere else."

Jen was torn, listening to them argue. The professor's reaction seemed genuine but there was a homicidal zombie running around town. It was becoming more probable that he had absolutely nothing to do with this. More than anything, she wanted them to stop fighting. She wanted Sam to buck up and Dean to get out of this dark place he kept going to.

"...No, you don't. At all. Dean, I don't scare easy, but man, you're scaring the crap out of me."

"You're lucky this turned out to be a real case. Because if it wasn't you would have just found something else to kill."

Dean huffed, turned and started to walk away, Jen hung back, Sam stayed with it, yelling now, "...You're on edge, you're erratic, except for when you're hunting, because then you're downright scary. You're tailspinning, man. And you refuse to talk about it and you won't let me, or even Jen, help you."

Sam was right. Even though Jen and Dean had become infinitely closer since John's death, there were only little snippets of time when Dean showed her how he was actually feeling. Usually it was late, when they were locked in each other's arms. When he showed her how desperate he was, how he was white-knuckling it through.

Dean rolled his eyes, "I can take care of myself, thanks."

"No, you can't. And you know what? You're the only one who thinks you should have to. You don't have to handle this on your own, Dean, no one can."

Dean talked over his brother, "Sam, if you bring up Dad's death one more time I swear…"

"Stop. Please, Dean, it's killing you. Please. We've already lost Dad. We've lost Mom. I've lost Jessica. And now I'm going to lose you too?"

Dean opened the door of the Impala, "We better get out of here before the cops come."

Sam huffed, frowning deeply. Dean sighed, "I hear you. Okay? Yeah, I'm being an ass. And I'm sorry. But right now we've got a friggin' zombie running around, and we need to figure out how to kill it….Right?"

Sam laughed, "Our lives are weird, man."

A small smile crossed Dean's face, "You're telling me? Come on...Jen, you comin' or what?"

She snapped out of her thoughts, "Oh yeah...Yeah. Let's go"

Dean watched her for a moment, she seemed a little out of it, but he opted not to ask right now.

"Can we just shoot it in the head?" I asked, hopeful.

Sam shuffled some papers around on the table, "No."

Dean stopped mid pace, "We can't just waste it with a head shot?"

Sam chuckled, "Dude. You two should have skipped the Romero marathon last week."

I furrowed my brow, feeling the oncoming headache and eye burn that came from hours of research, "So there is no lore on how to get rid of the bitch?"

Sam slammed a book shut, "No, Jen, I'm telling you there's too much. I mean, there's a hundred different legends on the walking dead, but they all have different methods for killing them...Here."

He tossed a notepad that he had scribbled on at me. It was a running list of every method he had found so far, "Some say setting them on fire, uh, one said, what was it?...Oh, right... Feeding their hearts to wild dogs. That's my personal favorite. I mean, who knows what's real and what's myth?"

Dean yanked the notepad from my hands, "Is there anything they all have in common?"

"No." Sam threw up his hands.

I cleared my throat, "Well from the quick glance I got at the list…" Dean winked at me and I rolled my eyes in response, "...silver was on there a few times."

Sam shrugged, "It might work."

"Silver's a start." Dean's voice was hopeful.

"Yeah, alright. But now how are we going to find Angela?" Sam asked.

I thought for a moment, well, "We could always ask the person that brought her back."

Sam scoffed, "Thank you captain, but we have no idea who that person is."

Dean snapped his fingers, going to the dresser and pushing stuff aside, "If it wasn't her dad it might be that guy. Umm...Neil?...Where the hell is it?...Gotcha."

"Neil? He doesn't strike me as a master of the dark arts...How did you come up with that?" Sam replied.

Dean held up what he had been looking for, Angela's pink diary, "Well, you've got your journal, I've got mine…'Neil's a real shoulder to cry on, he so understands what I'm going through with Matt.'...There's more in here where that came from. It's got unrequited ducky love written all over it."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean he brought her back from the dead." Sam was skeptical.

I grinned, digging through papers next to me, finding the school records, "Says here he is Dr. Mason's teaching assistant. He would have access to all those books...Do you really think?"

Dean nodded, "Yep, I really think."

I mulled it over for a minute, "So what? We just go in? Guns blazing?"

Dean winked at me, "That's normally our style."

After a couple of knocks I had given up and picked the lock, swinging the front door open for us to walk in. It was dark and quiet. Dean called out, "Hello? Neil?! It's your grief counselors... we've come to...uh... hug."

I suppressed a laugh as he pulled out a gun, handing me and Sam each a clip as well.

"Silver bullets?" Sam asked.

Dean locked his clip in place, chambering a round, "Yeah, enough to make her rattle like a change purse."

I flipped on my flashlight and scanned around. We split up, as their footsteps moved farther away, I made my way up the stairs. There were dead plants everywhere, and it smelled. Everything smelt like old lady and dirt. A low whistle rang through the house. I made my way back down the stairs, Dean was around the corner, shining a light on a door that was bolted from the outside. Dean tried the handle but it wouldn't turn. Sam's voice behind me made me jump, "You think?"

Dean shrugged, unbolting it and breaking the lock, "Unless it's where he keeps his porn…"

He swung it and I bolted down the stairs first, staying low, praying that nothing would grab my legs. I scanned quickly with the light, checking the corners, "I think it is empty."

A bright light flipped on as the boys tromped down the stairs. The smell was even more pungent down here. Dean put his gun in his pants, "Sure looks like a zombie pen to me."

I nodded, "Yeah, but empty...Do you guys smell that?"

Dean laughed, walking slowly, looking, "Yeah. It smells like rotting ass...Makes sense. Technically she is dead."

I nodded, "So she should be rotting."

Sam was checking the barred window, "Do you think Angela went after somebody?"

I came to a large vent, pulling on the corner it popped loose. Shit. Dean kneeled beside me, shining the flashlight inside, "Nah, I think she went out to rent Beaches."

"Look, smartass, she might kill someone. We gotta find her." Sam was agitated. Dean stood upright, thinking, "Yeah. All right. She, uh, she clipped Matt because he was cheating, right?"

Sam nodded, and I saw where he was going, "I guess it takes two to..uh.."

"Have hardcore sex." Dean cut me off.

I laughed uncomfortably, "I was going to say tango, but yours works too."

"Prude...Didn't it seem like Angela's roommate was broken up over Matt's death. I mean, like, really broken up?"

It clicked into place, "Why is it always the roommate and the creepy stalker nerd that are the problems?...We need to get there. Now."

We ran out and piled into the car. Dean gunned the engine and raced the Impala down the road,pushing the speedometer to the max. As he put it in park Sam and I were already out and sprinting for the apartment building's door. Slinging the door open Dean and Sam ran past, and barreled down the hall. I could hear screaming on the other side of the door. Sam slammed his shoulder against it and the hinges buckled. Angela was chasing Lindsey across the floor, scissors in hand. Blood seeped slowly from Angela's chest. Her face was pulled into a snarl, and skin was tinted grey. Angela stood up and ran at us as Dean pulled off three shots into her chest. She screamed and bolted, crashing through the back window. Dean took chase. Lindsey was still on the floor screaming incoherently, Sam ran over to her, helping her to her feet, "It is okay... I gotcha."

I glance at the window, worried. But Dean hops back through it, "Damn, that dead chick can run."

"What now?" Sam asked.

Dean sighed, obviously annoyed that Angela had gotten away, "I say we go have a little chat with Neil."

We walked back out, Dean tossed me the keys, "I gotta patch up my arm."

I shot him a concerned glance. I hadn't noticed that he was bleeding. He wrapped his other arm around my shoulder reassuringly, "I cut it on the glass, don't get all worried. I'm fine"

"Wouldn't dream of worrying about you," I drove the Impala towards the school, Dean was down to his t-shirt in the back, quick wrapping his arm. Sam flipped through his dad's journal in the dim light, "So the silver bullets, they did something, right?"

Dean tied the wrap, "Yeah, something, but not enough. She still could run like a mother fucker. What else you got?"

"Um, okay, besides silver, we have ... nailing the undead back into their grave beds. It's mentioned a few times. It's probably where the whole vampire staking lore came from."

I scoffed, "You can't be serious? What? We are gonna invite her for a tea party at her grave and shove her in?"

Sam shrugged, "We gotta get her there somehow."

When they started walking through the halls at the college, only one room had a dim light coming from under the door. Sam, Dean and Jen entered to see Neil sitting behind a desk, fidgeting nervously, "What are you guys doing here?"

Dean chuckled, "You know, I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you ...you take the cake. "

"Who the hell are you guys"

Jen half smiled, "Why don't you ask Angela. I'm sure she knows."

"What?" Neil stood up and tried to back away, but he had nowhere to go. Sam flanked him, "We know what you did. The ritual? Everything."

Neil scoffed, but his eyes shifted, "You're all crazy."

Dean shook his head, "Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy? When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff."

Jen wandered around the room, looking for signs, "You know that she slit Matt's throat...And she just tried to kill Lindsey with a pair of scissors? How long do you think it will be until she turns on you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Dean lost it, moving around the desk and pulling Neil up by his collar, "Hey! No more bullshit, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. We can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is. Tell us!"

Neil hesitated, "My house. She's at my house."

Dean let go of Neil and stood back. Jen cleared her throat and motioned towards the plants in the window. Every single one was dry and wilted. Dean stared down Neil, "You sure about that?"

Neil nodded but his eyes wandered around the room nervously, pausing on a closet in the far corner. Dean nodded and raised his voice, "Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some, some scar weed, some candles... It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us."

Neil shook his head, "I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now."

"No." Neil spoke firmly. Dean leaned close, barely audible, " Listen to me. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad."

Dean looked at Jen and Sam, "Let's get outta here."

Jen lit a candle, setting it next to Angel's grave, "Do you actually think this bullshit is going to work?"

"No. Not really. It was all I could come up with though...Can I have that lighter?" Dean reached towards Jen, "I'm hoping she is stupid and desperate enough."

Dean continued lighting candles, setting them around the grave. Sam stood nearby, scanning the woods and the cemetery, gun in hand, "I definitely think it is crazy enough to work."

A twig snapped and three heads jerked around towards the noise. Sam glanced at the other two and nodded, stalking in the direction that it had come from. Jen watched until he was out of sight and then disappeared into the treeline, where she could see everything in the open clearly, including Dean going to stand behind a tree.

In the woods Sam froze at a rustle of leaves. He paused, turning quickly, gun drawn. Angela stops mid step, putting her hands up, "Wait! It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back. But it's still me. I'm still a person...Please."

Sam wasn't going to wait. He fired off a shot, hitting her square between the eyes. She stared him down, screaming in anger.

"Shit." Sam turned and ran for the grave. He made it out of the woods, scrambling. Jen watched her stride after him, catching up quickly and tackling him. Angela was twisting his arms, trying to get to his head to snap his neck. Jen bolted out of the treeline, pausing to fire off a clip into Angela. Angela stood up, growling like an animal, turning towards Jen, "Oh, shit… Dean!"

"Hey!" Dean came out, firing into Angela's chest. She backed up from the impact, falling backwards into her grave. Dean sprinted across the open grass, pulling out a long stake, sliding the last few feet into the grave. He buried the stake into her chest.

"Wait, don't…" She begged.

Dean pushed it all the way through, into the bottom of the coffin. He sat up, panting as her body went limp and her head rolled, "What's dead should stay dead."

When he turned to jump out, Jen and Sam were there watching. Sam was holding his one arm awkwardly, and Jen extended a hand to help him out. Dean jumped, grabbing it, allowing her to haul him the last little bit. She smiled up at him, "You ready to bury this bitch?"

It took them most of the night to bury Angela and clean up the stuff from the fake ritual. Dean patted down the last of the dirt from the grave. Sam grabbed the duffle bag, "Rest in peace."

Dean turned away, "Yeah. For good this time, okay?"

Jen stretched, grabbing the shovels and heading for the car. She opened the trunk and threw them in. Sam turned to Dean, "You know, that whole fake ritual thing, luring Angela into the cemetery? Pretty sharp."

Dean smiled, "Thanks."

"But did we have to use me as bait?"

Dean chuckled, "I figured you were more her type. You know, she had pretty crappy taste in guys."

"I think she broke my hand." Sam held it up. Jen laughed, "I think maybe you're just getting a little soft."

Dean grinned, "Just get in the car, have Jen look at it for now. We can have a real doc look at it later."

He paused for a moment, looking back at his mother's grave. Sam saw, "You want to stay for a while?"

"No...Let's go."

They all got in. Sam held his hand over the backseat, cringing as Jen checked it out, "Dammit Jen. That hurts!"

"Stop being a baby. Dean there isn't anything I can do. She broke it, he is going to need it set and casted."

"Okay."

"Good…" Sam pulled his hand into his lap, "I didn't want Kevorkian back there patching me up anyway."

Jen chuckled, "I'm not that bad."

"You're a freaking butcher." Sam said. Dean laughed, "You kinda are, Jen."

"Well fine then. I will just let you two bleed out next time you need stitched up.. No sweat off my back."

They all laughed. Dean pulled through a drive though in town, getting them greasy breakfast sandwiches and her sped out of town.

"Where we goin'?" Jen asked.

Dean bit the inside of his cheek, shrugging, "I don't know yet. Wherever we end up sounds good to me."

We had been driving for awhile, it was mid-afternoon now. We had stopped at the doctor's, Sam's hand had been broken. It was casted now. All the windows were down, and nobody had spoken for a long time. I watched Dean periodically, he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw. Scowling. Sam shot him concerned glances but never said anything. Suddenly, Dean pulled the wheel sharply for the shoulder, "Fuck it."

He got outta the car and sat on the hood. Sam looked at me and I shrugged, we got out. Sam sat close to Dean, shoulder to shoulder. I perched farther up, by the windshield. It was silent. I stared off into space until Sam quietly asked, "Dean? What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

Sam shook his head, "For what?"

"The way I've been acting... And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad too. And it's my fault that he's gone."

"What are you talking about?" Sam was confused. I knew exactly what Dean was talking about. I had been thinking it, hell, any hunter worth his salt could put it together. I watched Dean until he began to speak quietly, "I know you've been thinking it...so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone."

"Dean…"

"No...You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."

Sam shifted, "We don't know that. Not for sure."

"Sam …" Dean's voice cracked. I saw the tear slide down his cheek that he quickly brushed away. I reached over, placing my hand next to his, unsure.

"...You and Dad ... Now Jen...you're the most important people in my life. And now ... I never should've come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it… So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?"

Dean turned to look at Sam who looked away. Dean's fingers slid over mine and he squeezed my fingers tightly. I stared at my boots, letting him take his time. My stomach clenched. Dean was right, but I didn't care. The world was a better, safer place with him in it. At least it was for me.