"So… you sure this is the place?" Lou asks from the driver's seat of the busted old Pinto they hotwired halfway through their trip. The stolen Chevy Nova they started out with broke down over two hundred miles back. They should be more discerning about which car to steal.

"Best guess, yeah," Sam says as he peers off at the gated mansion in the middle of a rich, old suburb of Hoople. They reached their destination just now and are ready to find and bleed that Alpha Vamp.

"And you trust that old guy at the library why?" Lou double checks his work as she rubs an apple on her shirt to clean it before taking a big bite.

"Because he's an old guy," Sam shrugs, reaching behind him in the passenger seat to grab binoculars from the back. "Old locals know everything. They don't spend their days buried with their faces in a smart phone. They observe."

"Observe what?" she asks with a full mouth.

"Everything." He looks through the binoculars and watches for comings and goings in and out of the mansion, there being none. The place is dark inside and no one stirs. Very vamp-like while hiding out. "Elderly locals know all about the towns they grew up in. He said this place was recently bought by a mysterious rich guy. No one leaves during the day. Dudes in suits looking like secret service are suddenly about town now and then at night only…."

"Alright, sounds good enough for me." She keeps eating and letting Sam check the place out.

"It's dark." Sam tells her, lowering the binoculars.

"Well, it is night," Lou says with sarcasm.

"Helpful," Sam brushes her off. "But that means I can't see inside."

Lou considers the danger of entering vampire domain at night. "We should wait for daylight, then…."

"Hell no, we're not waiting!"

"Shit!" Lou shouts as Sam jumps a foot, both sharply looking behind them to find Bobby sitting in the backseat suddenly. "A heads up next time, huh!?"

"No time. I'll scout it out. See if we need to bring in the big guns." With that Bobby blinks out and disappears.

Sam looks to Lou with a face of concern.

She gets it. "Little reckless."

"You don't say," Sam easily agrees right before Bobby pops back into the car.

"Okay," the older hunter says after looking around the house. "Place is clear."

"No vamps?" Lou asks, disbelieving.

"None. But there's something you're gonna want to see. Let's go." Bobby once more is gone and Lou sighs.

She and Sam exchange another look of concern and get out of the stolen car. They stop at the trunk to grab machetes just in case before heading towards the house.

They both walk slowly to the front door while on high alert. Lou checks the knob but it's locked. Without speaking, she backs up and keeps a good look out as Sam pulls out his lock pick and gets to work.

In no time they're in, walking through the spacious, upscale home and finding it quiet, much like Bobby told them it would be.

"Lower the blade. I told ya it's empty… almost," Bobby says as he walks past them, already in the house.

"So what did you want us to see?" Sam asks, following Bobby into a dining room. The question is answered the second they get a good view of the dining table.

Three bodies are laid on it, upon closer inspection they all have pointed teeth bared.

"Dead vamps? In a vamp hideout?" Lou asks aloud and looks to Sam with a wrinkled face. "Mutiny?"

"Definitely not," Sam responds, pointing to the badly burned out mouth and neck on all three, the skin looking singed by chemicals.

"Ok… I've never heard of a way to burn a vamp to death with battery acid. And I've been a vampire." Lou takes a closer look, leaning over the table. Sam immediately pulls her back with an arm around her middle, not knowing what it is and not wanting her too close because of that.

"Only way I know is beheading," Bobby agrees with her.

"Well, something didn't agree with them," Sam says seriously, letting Lou go and giving her a look to remind her to be careful.

"Hey," Lou nods to the other side of the room. "Check out that wall."

Sam looks and then turns back to her, shaking his head with a face to say he doesn't see anything off.

"Look again," Lou tells him as they both head that way.

Sam instantly feels around the edges of the bookshelf and picks up on the slightest of drafts. "Yeah, there's something back there. See if you can find a switch or a lever or something."

"Don't need one," Bobby announces with far too much confidence and walks right through the wall, ghost abilities quite handy in the moment.

"How nice for him," Lou sarcastically bites as she and Sam start looking shelf by shelf.

Sam starts reading through the book titles on the spines of the perfectly stacked books. He hesitates upon reading one.

"Hey," he calls her attention as he pulls out the volume titled 'How to Serve Man' and shows it to her.

She rolls her eyes. "Lamest joke ever."

"Vampires aren't known for their sense of humor," he absently tells her as he looks to the shelf where the book was taken. Behind it is a button he quickly pushes.

The hidden doors spring open and swing their way, both backing up to make room for it. When they can see inside they find Bobby already standing there and looking at a young girl sitting curled up on the floor, her back against a bed.

When the young girl sees the two walk in she stands up, her floral nightgown she's wearing falling to her knees. She clutches tightly to a stuffed bear as she backs up to the wall, wide eyes on the people she didn't expect to arrive.

She eyes the weapons in Lou and Sam's grip and visibly gets more frightened.

"Lou," Sam nods at her machete and they both immediately sheath their weapons.

"Hey, hon," Lou smiles out, softening her voice from its usual edge that she knows isn't always so becoming. She does this while hunting when they find a possible victim, always wanting people at ease if they've been traumatized. "Sorry about the way we just kind of barged in here." She sneaks a look of upset to Bobby. "We're not gonna hurt you. Okay?" She lifts her upper lip. "No fangs. See?"

"We just want to talk," Sam adds in, keeping his composure calm also. She's underdressed so Sam immediately pulls his heavy, canvas jacket off. "Come sit down." He gestures to the chair across from a couch in the small, hidden space that is not unlike an upscale apartment.

Moving slowly, eyes darting around at the three people, before taking a seat.

"Here," Sam offers, moving slowly to show her he means her no harm and he drapes his big coat over her shoulders.

"Thanks," she tells him in a meek voice, pulling the coat around her tighter as her eyes avoid the room of strangers, looking at the floor.

"Honey, what's your name?" Lou asks as she takes a seat across from the girl on the antique floral couch, looking at her with a still kind expression.

"Emily," she answers, a tiny hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, finding Lou comforting and much less intimidating than the other two.

"What are you doing here, Emily?" Sam asks, taking a seat next to Lou and following her lead. He can sense that the poor girl is already at ease with her and he wants to appear as safe as Lou does.

"I'm… this is where I live."

"You live in a secret room in a vampire hideout?" Lou questions evenly.

Emily pauses for a moment, clearly thinking over what to say and how to explain herself. "I was 8. My mom left me at the playground while she ran to the store. A man approached me and said I was the prettiest girl there." She smiles wide with the memory of the compliment. "And I've been living with these... things... ever since. At least until now."

"Do you have any idea why?" Sam questions.

"I'm one of his special girls. All the others, it was their job to make sure I was ready for the Alpha, whenever he came. Wash me... give me my IV bags every day. It's my only food. So my blood's pure."

No one speaks for a moment with the story. They weren't prepared for this.

"They've been doing this to you for… maybe, 12 years?" Lou wonders, her heart hurting for this young woman and her experiences.

"Virgins are a delicacy," she says as if it's the most normal thing ever. "He always has at least one of us on hand."

"Not anymore he doesn't," Lou says to her in a promise.

"What do you mean?" Emily asks.

"It means we're gonna get you back to your mother," Sam vows, knowing that they have to.

Emily sadly grins. "Think she remembers me?

"Of course she remembers you," Lou tells her with pure certainty. "I mean, don't you remember her?"

Emily just shakes her head no.

"Well, trust me when I tell you there is no way she doesn't remember you," Lou says and smiles at her reassuringly. "She's going to be so happy to see you again."

"Emily?" Bobby jumps in there, walking towards the doorway they discovered and gesturing to the three dead vampire bodies on the table they already looked over. "These guys friends of yours?"

"They take care of the Alpha when he's here… or they did."

"What happened to them?" Sam prods a little more, needing to understand what the hell is going on.

"A week ago, they came back from what they said was an easy hunt. They dragged in three humans and it was strange… they didn't put up any fight. Not even a yell. But when they started to feed on the humans, the vampires screamed in pain. The ones who ate died immediately."

"And the ones who didn't?"

She looks at Sam and answers him. "There was only one. When he saw what happened, he moved to animals. He's out hunting as we speak."

"Something ain't stirring the Kool-Aid, Sam," Lou says quietly as they try to make sense of all this. "Vamps being allergic to humans? That's unheard of."

"You think maybe it's the corn syrup?" he logics. "I mean, think about it. The grocery store was lousy with stoners. All ripe for the picking."

Lou's eyes widen as she turns back to Emily. "You did say it was an easy hunt, right?"

"That's what they said," Emily responds.

"Ok… Emily, do you know where the Alpha is now?" Sam wonders, the pieces finally falling into place.

"I don't know. Maybe. He has a place he goes when something's wrong. He calls it his retreat."

"Alright," Sam nods and pulls his phone out. He smiles at Emily. "You've been really helpful, Emily."

She smiles softly before wrinkling her forehead at the device in his hands. "What is that?"

Lou grins. "That's Sam's evil dickbag GPS. Helps us find the Alpha. Can you give us the address?"

"I don't know it… but I remember things that maybe can help," Emily offers.

"That's fine," Sam nods. "Just do the best you can."

Dean unlocks and pushes open the motel room door. Flicking the light switch, he looks around and is pleasantly surprised. "Hey, this place doesn't totally suck." He drops the three bags he has on the nearest bed and inhales deeply while Lizzy walks into the room with Sammy in her arms. "Even smells better than the usual."

"Because I'm done with the flea bag places," she tells him. "Cheap chains are at least clean enough for me to be comfortable with him staying in." She nods at Sammy as she opens up a plastic shopping bag of fresh fruits and vegetables.

Dean nods in agreement as he looks over the channel listings on the menu left on the dresser by the modern television. "Hey, I'll take a flat screen and clean sheets any day. I'm with you on this."

She smiles. "I figured. Hey, can you set him up with some toys or something while I get to making him something to eat?"

"You got any idea what you'll make him to eat?" Dean wonders while pulling Sammy into his arms, the little boy automatically reaching for him.

"I'm thinking some bananas and strawberries first," Lizzy shrugs a bit as she starts to unpack all the bags of items they bought at the local supercenter. "Then some carrots and sweet potatoes but those will take longer."

"Why?"

She points to the boxed hot pot. "Have to boil veggies first before pureeing them into baby food."

"You really think you can pull that off in a hotel room with no kitchen?" Dean wonders, riffling through the packed-to-the-gills baby bag for items that will occupy Sammy enough.

Lizzy pauses, leaving the boxed food processer and hotpot on the small wooden desk. She looks at him with a soft grin. "I've been doing this for almost a year. I can make anything work." She then turns away from him, avoiding the upset she's sure would be in his expression. There was no good way to explain it without bumming him out and she already knew how he'd take it.

Dean slows with the admission. It hits him square in the heart. He takes the stuffed dog that he noticed Sammy seemed to love and sits down on the edge of the bed closest to Lizzy. He settles there, Sammy sitting in his lap with the stuffed dog's ear already in his mouth. "L, I… I don't know what to say to that." He said he'd be honest with her and try. He's trying.

"Don't say anything," she asks of him, pulling the food processer from the box and setting it up without looking at him. "Dean, we're past this. It's different now, right?"

The way she smiles with all the hope in the world over her shoulder before continuing on to setting up a makeshift kitchen, Dean's heart still feels heavy. All that lost time still weighs on him. "Right. I mean… hell, look at me. I'm here instead of with Sam on a blood run. That's a step in the right direction."

"A baby step but a step nonetheless," Lizzy says brightly and even without seeing her face he knows she's grinning.

"Alright, you cook up some food, I'm gonna give this dude a bath because it's been a few days I think," Dean comments, looking at Sammy's wispy hair and seeing it's slightly dirty.

"Good idea," Lizzy nods, plugging everything in and taking all parts that need to be rinsed before using. She heads for the bathroom and turns on the sink faucet. She glances at the tub. "And a clean tub! Ugh, what a luxury!"

"Thank God," Dean comments heavily as he once more rummages through Sammy's baby bag singlehandedly, grabbing baby shampoo and a soft, terry cloth towel. He takes one look at the little rubber duckies on it, butterflies flying over their heads, and he groans. "What the hell is this?" he wonders with an edge, walking up behind Lizzy in the bathroom as she rinses items in the sink and he shoves the embroidered patterns in front of her.

She looks at him with a flat face. "Do you have any idea how many times we've had to ditch so fast that we don't get to pack?"

"Where's the shark one I got him?" Dean bitches. "The one with the hood that had teeth and was badass?"

"Left it in Michigan when we found out there where Leviathan-looking kills in town," she tells him with an edge. "Lou and I thought it would be better to run and live than go back for a shark towel and die."

Sighing, Dean sets the towel on the closed toilet seat and sits on it while leaning over to turn on the tap.

Lizzy watches as his shoulders stiffen while holding the back of his hand under the water to test the temperature.

"We're making it better," Lizzy reminds him. "We're here for a reason."

"To get a nun bone," Dean mutters as he lets the tub fill once he finds the right temperature.

"So we can kill Dick and get our lives back," she fixes his answer. "This is temporary."

"Yeah," Dean nods, not convinced. "And in the meantime we can't even give our kid a towel without that being ripped away from him just like everything else."

It's pathetic. She knows it is and she agrees. Their lifestyle is pathetic. But she's fighting past it because she has to.

"Dean?"

He looks up at her.

"Don't be such a sulky little emo girl," Lizzy smirks as she says it, watching his eyes roll when she insults him. She huffs a small laugh before dropping the blender and processer on the small vanity counter. She leans down and touches his cheek, the stubble so long it's near beard territory with how busy they've been. "You have us. You win." She kisses his lips with a firm press and pulls back a little to kiss Sammy's forehead. "As dark as it is… remember that Sammy is our way back. He's going to push us to get there."

Dean just looks up at her with a brief moment of clarity, running his fingertips gently over Sammy's head without looking down.

"Think of him as our little ray of light at the end of a long, shitty, scary tunnel," she half laughs at that, picking up where she left off. She dries off the items as Dean gets to work.

"He's a smelly ray of light, ugh!" Dean comments, picking him up and tilting him sideways, making the boy giggle with the movement. "Wow! That's a nasty one!" He gets up to get rid of the soiled diaper while the tub fills. "When do you think we should head out?"

"Uh… probably after dark," Lizzy mentions, looking out the big picture window over the third floor as she walks back into the main motel room, the sun almost set and the sky already darkening. "I'd say nine-ish. That way we can have him back by eleven the latest, let him sleep the night through."

"Sounds good to me," Dean comments, laying Sammy on his back on a bed as he sets out wipes. "Alright, dude. No moving around too much, you hear me? I get poop on me and you're gonna pay."

Lizzy walks over to the desk, putting the appliances together as she laughs at the sound of gagging behind her.

And then the smell hits her.

"Whoa!" she says as she pauses, a paring knife in one hand and a carrot in the other when she looks behind her. "He bombed you!"

"Why is it always the smelliest ones when it's my turn to change him?" Dean then dry heaves a bit, only half meaning it.

"Because he knows not to piss off his momma," Lizzy jokes back. "Never bite the hand that feeds you." She holds up a carrot before she starts slicing it on a small wooden cutting board.

"Ugh… no… so gross…."

Lizzy laughs to herself as she listens to his complaints and whines behind her, smiling the entire time. He may bitch but she knows the smell of his own son's poop is nothing compared to what he's smelled on the job… and really, she knows which stench he'd prefer.

"This sucks," Lou complains as they exit the convenience store and head back to their stolen car of the week, a bag of fresh produce in Sam's hold.

"You'll live," Sam reminds her, knowing she's exaggerating.

"Hey, I'm not against healthy eating. What I am against is a raw vegan diet," she explains. "This is stupid."

"It's just until we take care of the Leviathan…."

"I get it," Lou reminds him. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Sam sneaks his hand in hers as they walk, reminding her to focus on the good.

She smiles up at him a little, knowing what he's saying. She's out, she's hunting, and she can handle some raw, boring food in exchange. "Alright, tough guy… what's next?"

"Well, we're almost to the hideout so if we're heading in we should be prepared."

"So… morgue run then?" Lou asks, knowing that was the next step.

"Yeah… or…." Sam looks around himself at the loopy, whacked out citizens around him. No one seems aware of anything other than stuffing their faces and zoning out. And then he remembers the burnt out vampires that most likely feasted from people that had eaten modified corn syrup-laced food….

"Or… what?" Lou asks when Sam stops and stares at a man on a bench sipping a Big Gulp. "What's happening in that big brain, Giant?"

Sam drops her hand and gives her the bag of food. "Come with me."

She follows as they head for the man on the bench, Sam sitting to one side of him as he nods to his other side for Lou to do the same. She does.

When the man doesn't look at either of them, Sam's wide eyes land on Lou. She smiles when it clicks. They're swimming in blood better than a dead man's.

"Excuse me, sir," Sam says to the stranger. He turns his head and meets Sam's eyes, Sam smiling reassuringly. "Hi. We, uh, we're with the... Red Cross." He ignores Lou's stifled laugh at his improvisation. "See, we have an emergency shortage." He holds out his FBI badge. "And we're gonna need you to..."

He stops when he realizes the man isn't even blinking at him, his sights vacant while still on him.

"You're not getting a word I'm saying, are you?" Sam asks, already knowing.

"Hey, dude!" Lou practically yells at him, snapping her fingers in his face. He sluggishly peers at her finally and she realizes what they're dealing with. "Hold out your arm. We need your blood."

"Lou!" Sam yells at her for the blunt way she asks.

But then the man holds out his arm readily, no qualms about the weird request.

Lou's face lights up with how easy it was. "Think if I asked him to bark like a dog and hand over his wallet he would?' she wonders aloud with excitement.

Sam's angered face lets her know he doesn't think she's funny.

"I wouldn't actually do it," Lou tells him, bummed with his lack of lightness in the situation. She pulls out a couple empty syringes as she only assumed the morgue was the next stop. "Here," she hands them to Sam over the drugged man. "Tap the keg."

"Here?!" Sam asks, pulling the syringes out of sight quickly, not accustomed to doing any of what they do out in the open.

"Honey, look around us. It's like a fucking Grateful Dead concert out here," she gestures and Sam checks it out. No one seems with it and absolutely no eyes are on them. "Someone handed out the acid hits for free and everyone seems to have taken it. No one's looking. Show him a little prick, huh?" She winks.

Sam rolls his eyes at her joking. "I thought this was supposed to be a break from working with an always joking asshat," he bitches as he uncaps a needle and pulls the guy's hand towards him, turning it so the vein in the back of it is up and visible.

"Just trying to make you comfortable, sweetheart," Lou says, making her tone low and gravelly much like Dean's while she pulls an arm around the stranger's shoulder to make the situation look more casual.

"Not funny," Sam shudders, hating that his girlfriend is so much like his brother at times. He doesn't want to think about any possible Freudian meanings behind it. It's just weird.

As the man looks to Lou she smiles at him. He stops taking endless slow pulls from the straw in his drink to smile back. Lou just giggles at the dopey face. "At least everyone's happy while they become cattle."

Sam doesn't speak as he concentrates. He slowly slides the needle into the vein.

"Ow!" the man complains with no urgency or sharpness to his tone. "That hurts." His comment is lackluster and Sam doesn't worry too much, continuing to draw blood. The man turns back to Lou after looking down at his hand. "This is for Hurricane Katrina, you said?"

"Yes," Lou nods and goes with it, using a certain voice of what would be considered honesty. "That's exactly what this is for. Katrina."

"You have the flask on you?" Sam asks out of nowhere as he works.

"In the car," Lou answer.

"Good. Ok, uh… so," Sam starts to think head. "When we get there, to the Alpha's hideout, Bobby's gonna have to hang back." He glances at Lou and sees no reaction in her expression. "Do you disagree?"

"He's not gonna like it," Lou warns.

"I know…."

"He's the reason we even found Emily in the first place."

"Look, I'm Team Bobby, too. Okay?" Sam clarifies.

"We all are," Lou sadly tells him.

"But the more action he sees, the more chance he gets to spin out," he rebuts, changing the needle to collect enough blood for two syringes. "We don't need him screwing this up for us."

"Hey, I'm with you," Lou nods, knowing how hard it'll be but willing to do it for Bobby's sake. "We'll just stash the flask somewhere, keep him off the front lines. He can just stay behind at the motel with little Miss Lack-of-Sunshine over there and calmly wait for us to return." The sarcasm oozes from her mouth and Sam knows she's right to assume this will go south at some point.

"I know, he'll hate it…." Sam stops short when they hear the whoop of a police car siren once, then twice but without its usual pattern. He leans over to hide what he's doing.

They both watch as an officer behind the wheel of the cop car fumbles with his corn syrup-laced snack. The siren whoops once more, the car slowly rolling past them as War's 'Why Can't We Be Friends' blares from the speakers.

"If that's what it is to be a cop these days then I should've taken a totally different career path," Lou smirks at Sam as he gets back to filling a syringe.

"Done," Sam lets her know once he pulls the needle out of the stranger's hand and caps it, pocketing the useful weapon. "Let's go."

Sam gets up and Lou follows, shaking the dosed up man's hand. "We thank you for your service, sir."

"Welcome…." He keeps sipping his Big Gulp and returns to staring off into the distance at nothing.

"Jesus," Lou laughs a little as she heads for the car and gets into the driver's seat. "You gotta hand it to those Levis. They're smart as hell."

"Let's just hope we're smarter," Sam comments quickly and turns around to look at Emily in the backseat where she waited for them. "Emily, when they took you off to the Alpha, do you remember how long the drive was?"

"We left at night, got in before dawn," she vaguely answers.

"So, six, seven hours?"

"I think so, yes."

"Do you remember any highways?"

"No. We only took back roads."

Sam nods. "Ok. So, figure they averaged 45 miles per…."

"Would make it no more than 300 miles," Lou figures as she starts up the engine.

"Right."

Lou looks at Emily through the rearview mirror. "Do you know what direction were you going by chance?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry." She shrugs and looks downtrodden that she can't help more.

"Oh, that's okay. Emily, you're doing great," Sam smiles and assures her. "Um...is there anything else you remember?"

"Bells," she recalls. "As we pulled up, I heard these loud bells."

"It was still dark out?"

"You thinking church?" Lou wonders, knowing that if it was dark that wouldn't make sense.

"No, that's too early," Sam agrees with her thought assumption. "It could have been a monastery. Monks get up at 4 a.m. to pray."

Lou just gives him a dirty look. "Why does your brain work the way it does?"

"Just does," Sam brushes it off and keeps looking.

"Monks get up at four in the morning every day?" she asks him, surprised by that.

"Yeah."

"Damn," she thinks about it. "No sleeping late. No sex. Married to the church… at least they make all the most kick ass beers. Otherwise… what's the point?"

"Looks like there's one in our range," Sam says when he finds a monastery not too far. "Just outside Missoula."

"Missoula it is," Lou tells him and puts the car in drive, pulling out of their parking space. She then laughs to herself.

"What?" Sam asks.

"Lizard and Dean are at a nunnery, we're heading to a monk house… just kinda ironic if you think about it."

"That's not irony," Sam tells her with a grin.

"Yeah it is," she answers back.

"No, it's not," Sam corrects her lightly, no harshness meant. "It's more like a coincidence. Irony means that something happens the opposite way than it's expected to, like…."

"Like a black fly in your chardonnay?" Lou tries, proud smirk in place.

"Well… no…." Sam tries to explain but gets cut off.

"How about rain on your wedding day?" she keeps pushing, amused as all hell by herself. "Or maybe a free ride when you've already paid? Is it the good advice that you just didn't take…?"

"Alright, Alanis," Sam stops her there when he knows what she's doing. "That song never made sense. None of the things in it were ironic. All that stuff, it's not irony at all."

"Maybe that's the point," Lou figures. "Maybe when you know a song's name is 'Ironic' you expect to hear about ironic things… yet you get the opposite of expectation, thus making the very song itself ironic."

Sam's forehead wrinkles as he sits back in his passenger seat. Watching the road as they fly over it. Lou peeks at him and can practically hear his brain running a mile a minute.

"Blew your mind, didn't I?" she proudly grins.

"A little bit. Yeah," Sam huffs a laugh. "You might be on to something."

"Don't let these good looks fool you," she smirks. "I'm brains too."

Sam huffs a laugh at her. "Alright, brains. Just get us onto route 12."

"Will do, Chicky," she says and winks at him.

"This is stupid."

"This isn't stupid," Lizzy says with a smile, adjusting straps for him as she gets the fairly new item secured across his chest. "You need to have your hands free to help, just in case."

"I can't believe you bought one of these things," Dean rolls his eyes, embarrassed already.

"They come in handy. I've used it before and trust me, it's a god-send," she tells him, straightening from her hunched position to look him in the eye. "Feel good?"

"I feel like a soccer mom," Dean responds with an acrid tone.

"Well, you look like a really good dad," she turns it around, trying to be cheerful despite Dean not liking her sunshine. Lizzy bends down into the open back door of the car as it's parked outside of The Sisters of Saint Benedict Convent. She stands back up and has Sammy in her grip, the little boy already bathed and in his pajamas. "Alright, Sammy-baby! Look sharp!" She hold him out in front of her. "You ready to exhume your first corpse, sweetie?" She then blows a raspberry onto his cheek and he laughs.

"Oh, really?" Dean bitches, completely unamused by her taking what they have to do and making it acceptable. It isn't.

"Hey, if we have to bring him on an errand this dark and screwed up then I'm not letting him in on how bad it is," Lizzy explains with a light and happy tone, strapping Sammy into the device Dean's wearing. "He might not remember this but he'll remember feelings. He's felt scared far too often. Only good vibes from now on."

"We shouldn't have brought him," Dean reminds her as she makes sure Sammy's in securely.

"He can't be left alone," she responds simply.

"I could have done this myself," he rebuts.

"And I told you no way in hell, Hot Shot," she reminds him and looks up at her husband with a smile. "No going it alone with the Leviathan running around looking for us." She then kisses him quickly once before backing up and looking at them both. She just laughs.

Dean's shoulders are slumped with what she's made him do. Strapped to his chest in a Baby Bjorn is a smiling, happy Sammy with his back to his dad. Sammy's grinning. Dean's scowling.

"You guys are so cute," Lizzy coos, unable to help it.

"Oh, bite me," Dean bitches as he walks to the trunk and unlocks it. "I'm about a pair of jorts and some mid-calf white socks away from being a dad."

"Baby, you are a dad," Lizzy reminds sharply.

"Yeah, and I don't wanna be a lame one," Dean fires back as he hands her a sledgehammer.

"You'll never be a lame dad," Lizzy rolls her eyes. "Because you know I'd never have sex with you if you dressed like a lame dad. I'll keep you in check."

Dean considers this for a moment. He nods as he gives over her Glock. "Fair enough."

She checks the clip. Full. "Nice. Thanks."

"Welcome," Dean grins lightly, dropping his own Colt down the back of his jeans. He then takes out a sawed off. "Hey, uh… you got the…."

"Right here," Lizzy tells him, grabbing the noise cancelling headset in Sammy's size. She puts them gently over his head and Sammy immediately grabs at them, hating them. "You're gonna have to make sure he doesn't pull them off."

"Better then blowing his eardrums if we find company." Dean adjusts the headset when Sammy yanks one end. He then lifts one side and tells him, "You gotta be a man about this. Keep 'em on, bud."

Lizzy huffs a laugh.

"Think they work well enough?" Dean question, looking at the blue protective coverings with wonder.

"Sammy!" Lizzy yells and the boy doesn't look at her, just lets his eyes wander around the back of the building. "Sammy! Look at momma!"

Nothing.

"Awesome," Dean nods after seeing the display. "So I can say anything to you right now and he'd never hear it?"

"Anything," she confirms.

"Like, I can tell you how fucking much I want to see those lips wrapped around my cock later so I can watch you suck me dry… and he can't hear that?"

She grins. "He has no idea you even mentioned your cock in my mouth."

"Huh…." Dean starts thinking aloud as he looks down at the back of Sammy's head. "Shit. Asshole. Fuck. Cocksucker. Mother fucker. Balls."

Lizzy just laughs as Dean runs through as many curse words as his brain can come up with.

Dean's eyes light up as he looks at her. "Think he'll sleep in these things?"

"It's a thought," Lizzy laughs and turns, walking for the back door of the large, abandoned convent. "Grab the crow bar for me?"

"Will you let me fuck your mouth later?" he tries again, that boyish smile on his face when he thinks he's being slick.

"Only if you wear the Baby Bjorn while I'm on my knees," Lizzy jokes absently as she checks out the heavy wooden door that's locked tight. "I find it sexy."

Dean stands completely still with a disgusted face on. "You're fucking sick, you know that?"

"Dude, not with Sammy in it!" Lizzy yells at him for thinking such a way. "Fucking idiot. Just… get me the crowbar."

"Your mother is a sick, sick lady," Dean mutters to Sammy, the boy still unable to hear anything being said. Once he has the iron tool, he walks for Lizzy and hands it over.

"Alright," she grins, happy to be active again. She jams the end into the crease of the door and frame, prying the old structure open after who knows how many years of being shut. It takes some time, Dean holding a flashlight to help her out, but she gets the old door to groan and squeal open eventually.

She shoves it the last bit open with all her strength as Dean stands back and watches.

"Damn," he awes when she does it. "Haven't lost a step there, have you, momma?"

"Hell no," she sighs and rolls out her shoulders. "That little dude is heavy as hell. Holding him all damn day is my workout. Let's go."

Lizzy takes the salt round loaded gun from Dean and heads in first, her adrenaline high with being in the game at all for once. It's an easy task but it still feels damn good.

"Excited much?" Dean comments when he follows her through the door, ducking cobwebs hanging from the low hallway ceiling. "Shit," he complains, pulling a web from his forehead and eye. "How old is this place?"

"Closed for about eighty years so… old." Lizzy keeps moving, using the light Dean shines for her to guide her way. After some searching they find the crypt and she pulls out a printed page of the women interned in the old convent. She passes it to Dean.

Reading it over, he tells her, "Okay, well, there was… Sister Mary Eunice. Fed the poor, became Mother Superior at age 60…."

"Eh. She sounds political," Lizzy worries.

"And power does corrupt," Dean answers while reading into a new option. They get one shot. They better get a truly pure human. "Um... how about this one… Sister Mary Constant, 83 years of quiet, humble nun-like goodness." He looks up at her. "What do you think?"

"I like her," Lizzy answers, figuring it can't get any better than that.

Dean nods and looks back down, reading through Sister Mary Constant's accomplishments. "Wow. I want to be more righteous just reading this."

"That's got to be what we want then," Lizzy tells him, smiling.

"Alright, well, I lay odds on her," Dean tells her, pocketing the papers and once more holding up his flashlight. They search the wall of crypts and find Sister Mary Constant. He brushes off some cobweb to be sure it's her. It is. "Well... get to work, L. Go ahead and bone this nun."

Lizzy's face drops with the crudeness. "She was a good woman… better than any of us will ever be."

"Sorry," Dean makes an ashamed face. "At least it's safe to say that she'd probably be cool with us using her leg bone to save the world… now that she's not using it and all."

Lizzy makes a face of agreement as she presses a hand to Mary Constant's plaque. "I really hope she does. We need her."

She steps back, rests the sawed-off shotgun on the wall of crypts, and grips the sledgehammer tightly in both hands. She turns back to look at Sammy, his little hands pulling his headset off again so she nods for Dean to fix it.

"Come on, dude," Dean barely scolds as he adjusts the little blue headset, keeping his hands over the ear pieces to ensure it doesn't move. He nods. "Let 'er rip."

Lizzy smiles just a little. She's useful to a hunt. That's a damn good feeling.

She swings hard and smashes the head of the sledgehammer into the plaque. It cracks and she's feeling a smidgen of satisfaction seep in. She gives it two more solid swings and the crypt is busted open.

Coughing with the dust and decay in the air, Lizzy waves the cloud away from her face. "You might want to cover his face a little."

Dean lightly places his hand over Sammy's nose and mouth to try and keep some of the dust out… and the smell, of course. "Just grab a bone quick so we can get him outta here."

"Yeah, yeah," Lizzy brushes his hurry-up message to her and she reaches in blindly. Feeling around she touches one longer bone than the rest. She pulls it out. "Gotcha. Ok." She holds it up to Dean, the femur bone what they decided they should look for.

Dean nods and they start to make their way out.

"That wasn't so bad, huh?" Lizzy says to him, grinning as she follows behind.

"Luckily," Dean says, grabbing his son's hand as he's strapped to him. He squeezes it a little, Sammy gripping his index finger as he does, and he thanks their lucky stars no ghosts happen to be lurking around. He doesn't want Sammy near any of that crap.

When they make it back to the car Lizzy pops the trunk and packs everything up. "No getting pulled over, huh?" she says to Dean as he pulls Sammy out of the Baby Bjorn. "I feel like having all these weapons and parts of a dead person in our trunk wouldn't look very good."

"Whatever. Just get me outta this thing," Dean complains once Sammy is sitting in his car seat. He pulls at the straps of the Baby Bjorn and can't get it off. "I can feel my awesomeness fading the longer I have it on."

"Dude, no one thinks you're less awesome for this," Lizzy reminds, shutting the trunk and walking over to help him. She unhooks a couple things and it's off. "I actually think you look hotter in it."

"Ha-ha," Dean fake laughs at her as she tosses the item into the backseat.

"I'm serious," Lizzy tells him as she pauses and looks right up at him, hands on his chest where the harness used to be. She doesn't joke when she says, "You being a great dad is a total turn on."

"Seriously?" Dean asks with excitement at the prospect of his fatherhood helping him get laid.

"It's how we women are hardwired. A good dad is always way hotter because he's a good dad."

"Wait…" Dean stops as his hands come to her ass in a slide around her hips. He then grips hard and pulls her in against his chest, making her squeal small with the suddenness. "So, if I really do put that thing on later… you'll get on your knees for me?"

"You'll just have to see, now won't you?" Lizzy jokes right back and kisses him full on the lips, diving a bit deeper than she intended before pulling back. "Let's get back and get him to bed."

"So we can fool around?" Dean tries once more. Now that he has sex on the brain he's not going to give up.

"We'll see how it goes with putting him down first," Lizzy laughs and bends down to click Sammy into his car seat.

Dean smirks, ideas already forming, as he pulls open the driver's side door to leave.

"What's a Kardashian?"

Lou and Sam pause from the other bed in the motel room where they're packing up weaponry to head for the Alpha vamp headquarters. Emily's eyes are glued to the TV screen as she watches some trashy pop-culture news show.

"A whole different type of bloodsucker," Lou quickly answers, grinning at Sam for her quick thinking. He doesn't react to the stupid joke. When she looks back at Emily she sees the girl looks horrified. "Oh, honey. No. It was a joke."

She breathes out in relief but looks still very much confused.

"They're just vapid human celebrities that have too much money and fame," Sam assures her. "Lou's humor isn't always so sharp."

"Dick," Lou says to him. "I'm funny."

"No, you think you're funny," Sam argues back, smirking.

"Fine, I'll show you funny the next time you want this and I refuse," she gripes, sour mood seeping in.

Sam laughs hard at her. "Ok, so maybe you're a little funny."

"What? That time I wasn't even trying to be funny," Lou lets him know.

"Yeah, but you refusing sex? That's the best joke you've ever made," Sam huffs a little and packs the rest of what they might need, zipping the bag closed.

Lou nods, accepting it. "Guess that is a little funny."

"It's hilarious," Sam promises, pulling the bag strap over his shoulder. Lou pulls the old, dented flask of Bobby's out of the side pocket.

As Lou puts the flask in the room safe and sets a code for it, Sam pulls a scrap of paper out of his back pocket and walks for Emily.

"Here," he hands it over. "If we're not back by dawn, call this number. Jody Mills. She's a friend. She'll take care of you. Here, use this phone." He gives her a cell from their stash.

"You have to stay in this room," Lou adds in once the flask is secure. "Keep the doors locked and don't let anyone in. We just need you to sit tight until we get back."

Emily nods and looks up at Sam. "Thank you."

The sincerity of her thanks makes him smile, remembering that this is why they do what they do. Sometimes the reminder makes it all worth it. "You bet."

"We'll be back as soon as we can," Lou tries one last time to keep Emily assured as she opens the door to leave. The door knob flies out of her hand as it slams shut with hard force.

She and Sam share a look. Bobby. He's pissed that their grounding him.

Turning to Emily, Lou plasters on a fake smile. "It was the wind." She then turns back to the door and reopens it, leaving quickly while whispering, "Take it down, Bobby. You gotta sit on the bench for this one."

When they're gone, Bobby stands there. He looks at Emily as the rage fills his being, fired up by the sidelining.

After about a minute, Bobby watches Emily stand up off the motel bed. She takes a look at the paper Sam gave her before crumpling it up and tossing it on the ground. She then dials a number on the cell phone Sam gave her, clearly not as out of touch with technology as she let on to be.

"Hi, daddy," she smiles when the line picks up on the other end.

And Bobby only gets angrier. "Why, you little schemer."

"No, I'm close by. Sending you a present," Emily proudly tells the person on the other line.

Sam and Lou heading for a trap. Emily told on them. His kids are in danger.

"Those idjits," Bobby shakes his head at Sam and Lou for not seeing it and he disappears from the motel room as Emily leaves, needing to somehow warn them if he can.