Hey, sorry for the really long delay I've been busy and had a bit of that awfully annoying thing known as writers block. Hopefully this makes up for it, then again maybe not. Probably not the best thing I've written, I blame my assignments for making me brain dead. Let me know your thoughts please.

I don't own Supernatural.

Chapter 6

"Sam," Dean whined.

"What?" his brother replied for what must have been the hundredth time.

"This is useless, we've got nothing, we've been through every book Bobby has," he ranted.

Annoyed at yet another one of Dean's outbursts I slammed the book shut that I was looking through and dropped it heavily onto the table, "who's been looking through books?" It had been just over a week since the last hunt, nothing knew had turned up so I'd settled for helping Sam and Dean find a way to stop the Demon deal.

Dean shrugged off my comment and continued his rant, "we should be finding Bella, or on a hunt, anything. Face it Sammy, nothing is going to turn up while we're sitting on our ass' sipping coffee and coming up with what if's."

"Dean, come on man," Sam stood up, "maybe you just need a break."

"No, okay? I am sick and tired of this," he picked a book up, waving it at us; "I need to be doing something, something useful."

"Dean," I thought I might step in but after receiving a death glare from Dean I thought better of it.

Dropping the book back onto the table with a thud Dean picked up his car keys and jacket, "where are you going?" Sam asked.

"Out," he replied before slamming the door behind him.

Neither of us said anything to the other, I was trying to read the book I had but the words just weren't sinking in, no matter how many times I read the paragraph. Sam on the other hand continued to stare at the door as he tapped his pen on the table, "he's right you know," Sam broke the silence.

"What else can you do though?" I placed my hand on Sam's.

"Get back on the road I guess," Sam answered somewhat reluctantly.

Bobby returned later that night, he'd been out getting supplies; he offered to keep looking in the books and to keep an ear out for a lead on Bela. In the early hours of the morning Dean noisily walked through the front door having had few too many at a bar he'd obviously spent his evening in. I took Dean's entrance as my cue to go to bed, I really didn't want to face Dean's constant bad mood again.

Two days later and Bobby heard from a friend that Bella had been in touch with him. Jumping at the chance to hunt down Bela Dean had the car packed within ten minutes. With any luck she'd still have the colt. "Take care, alright?" I said to Sam as they we're leaving. Bobby's friend also had a hunt, a spirit in Washington State, in some backwards town I'd never heard of.

The spirit was an easy case which was unusual enough for my liking. I spent more time on the road than putting the spirit to rest. I hadn't heard from Sam in the last twenty four hours so I decided to call him. As soon as he answered I knew something was up. Sam explained that the lead they had on Bela had turned out to be a dud; instead they'd ended up arrested. I thought that was bad enough until I heard that the station they were in had been attacked by demons. There was something else that he wasn't telling me, it didn't make sense. Why, after he and Dean had left did the people in the station then die? It was unlike Sam or Dean to make such a huge mistake as missing one demon. I didn't press Sam for any more details, whilst I was driving at least. Instead I made a note to ask him when we all returned to Bobby's and if that didn't work I'd ask Dean.

Sam and Dean were first back to Bobby's, I wanted to head back, curious to know what Sam was avoiding telling me but tiredness got the better of me and I stopped at a motel seven hours drive from Bobby's. I was desperate for sleep but it was being evasive, my mind keeping it at bay. It just wouldn't switch of; worry about Sam was becoming increasingly annoying. For crying out loud, he could sure as hell look after himself. Maybe he and Dean had been bickering again or he really was beating himself up over the deaths.

I wanted to be awake and on the road by dawn but I slept through my alarm, I hadn't done that in years. Pulling out of the parking lot I floored the acceleration and hit the highway.

Later that evening we were sat around the kitchen table tucking into Chinese take-out, "is somebody going to tell me what really happened?" I asked the whole table. The first chance I had to be alone with Sam I'd asked him about it but he'd been evasive in his answers, I knew Dean would tell me but I wanted to hear it from Sam so I'd decided to pounce on them as soon as everyone was in the same room together.

"Didn't Sam tell you?" Dean looked at Sam who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"No, he didn't," I narrowed my eyes at Sam who was looking down at his plate of food.

"Ruby showed up," Sam explained.

"Right," I still wasn't following, "who's Ruby?"

"Some demon bitch," Dean answered as he shovelled food into his mouth.

"Dean! She can help us," Sam tried to argue his corner.

"No demon is going to help," Bobby muttered.

I ignored Bobby's mutterings, what Sam had said caught my full attention, "she can help? With Dean's deal?"

"Yeah," Sam looked pleased that someone was on his side.

"I'm with Sam, I'm not saying we trust her totally but if she says can help, well what else have we got to lose," I put my two cents in.

"Except our lives," Dean mumbled. I kicked him under the table.

"Ow!" Sam exclaimed. Crap. I'd been aiming for Dean's leg.

"Sorry Sam, I was aiming for Dean," I pulled my foot back again and this time hit Dean wiping the smile from his face.

"I hope you have better aim with a gun," Dean winced rubbing is leg under the table.

"Shut up," I glared at him across the table.

"Enough!" Bobby commanded. The three of us looked up guiltily, "if you're trusting Ruby, just tread carefully, okay?"

With the somewhat tense dinner out of the way I dragged Sam upstairs, "why didn't you just say that this Ruby had turned up earlier?" I wasn't mad; all I wanted to know was why he felt he couldn't tell me before.

"I wasn't sure how you'd take to the idea of a demon helping us," he fessed up.

I sighed, "well it isn't the most ideal situation but I'm not about to go and send her back down stairs. Not while we can use her."

"I know and with Lilith wanting my head on plate what other choice have we got," Sam rested his head in his hands.

"I'm guessing Dean seems to think otherwise," I ventured; it seemed like a Dean thing to do.

"He's accepted it now, it just comes with a hatred for what she is," I could see that, they wouldn't meet any arguments from me. Demons were untrustworthy, lying, violent and well, you get the picture.

"Understandable," I muttered as I leaned back against the head board and let everything I'd been told fully sink in. Even if I still couldn't figure out how Ruby was going to help.

Two days later and we we're heading for a house haunted by a spirit that had been claiming people for years. It was the only hunt that had turned up so I tagged along with Sam and Dean. With Dean doing the driving Sam and I ran over all the details of the case that we already had from Bobby.

A haunted house, it was so cliché. We arrived mid-morning and hit the local archives immediately, even Dean joined us although he did spend most of his time chatting up the receptionist.

There was countless newspaper articles all saying the same thing. Someone, mostly kids, had gone into the house but never come back out. It screamed spirit. Local legend mentioned in most of the articles said that a previous owner of the house Freeman Daggett returns every leap year to bring new victims for the house.

With several long hours spent trawling through archives and an hour spent with the parents of the last victim we had a pretty good idea of what we were up against. Dean, having done all the driving, intended on having a nap before we had to head out later that night. In the meantime Sam and I returned to my room to check we had everything and make some more salt rounds. Well Sam made more salt rounds I claimed to be reading through our notes but really I was reading my book. I was too wrapped up in the happy safe little world in my book to realise that Sam had sat down next to me. I only noticed when he took the book from my hands at least he had the good sense to fold the corner so I wouldn't lose my place. "Do you mind?" I said annoyed that I'd had to stop reading at the good bit.

"I've finished with the salt rounds," he replied.

"That's all very well but I haven't finished reading," I reached for my book but Sam was holding out of my reach. I lightly elbowed him in the gut and yanked it from his grip. Leaping to my feet I stepped away leaving Sam sat on the beat up sofa and settled myself on the bed, opening my book again.

Sam was rubbing his stomach, "I didn't hit you that hard, man up."

"I bed to differ," he replied. I rolled my eyes and returned to my book.

"I was only thinking we could have had some time to ourselves before meeting up with Dean again," Sam leant back on the chair.

I let my book fall to my lap, "oh, right." Sam laughed, "Sorry." My face burnt red, I was such an idiot. I patted the bed next to me and waited for Sam to join me. Leaning against Sam I picked up my book again determined to at least finish the chapter.

"What are you reading?" he asked.

"Confessions of a chocoholic," I replied.

"Is that mushy gushy romantic crap?" he asked. I put my book down, that seemed like such a non-Sam statement.

"Yes now quit sounding like your brother and let me finish the chapter," I picked up my book again. One word, six words, a sentence.

"Did I really sound like Dean?" Sam sounded almost worried.

"Yes," I replied. I was going to leave the reply at that but something in Sam's tone made me consider otherwise, "I wouldn't worry, you are related. You're going to have some similarities."

"I'm not worried," he answered, "It might be a good thing, if Dean does go to hell I've got to survive somehow." That killed my reading.

I set the book down and shifted closer to Sam and took a hold of his hand, "we don't know that he's going to hell there's still time and even if he did, you'd still be alright. You would still have Bobby and you've got me."

Sam smiled slightly, "I know but-"

"We aren't your brother," I finished his sentence. I felt for him, I'd already lost my brother, I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

"Sorry," he muttered.

I shoved him playfully but he didn't move, "you don't need to apologise. You have every right to feel that way."

"Hmm," Sam replied, "you know for a girl you hit pretty hard." I was glad that Sam had changed the topic and attempted to be a little more cheerful, even if it was only for my benefit.

"Yeah so watch yourself," I tried to sound threatening but sadly I didn't succeed. The only thing I succeeded in was making Sam laugh. I guess it was some kind of accomplishment.

I moved closer to Sam no longer having any desire to read. Sam reached out to touch my cheek, the ghost of a smile still on his face. I smiled back, I liked the laughing Sam but it seemed I was seeing less and less of him as of late. The only thing I could do was be there for him and help. "How long till we have to leave?" I asked.

He pulled away to look at his watch, "an hour."

"Good," I replied before hungrily pressing my lips to his, momentarily catching him by surprise.

We moved so that I was leaning back against the bed and Sam was leaning over me, our lips reuniting again. Sam's hand ventured lower and lower but I was too distracted to pay much attention, I was only vaguely aware of him pushing up the hem of my shirt.

A knock on the door made us both jump, "you should get that," I laughed, knowing that it would be Dean. I straightened my clothes and picked up my book.

"I'm not buying it," Dean said waltzing into the room, "time to go."

There we're lights coming from the inside of the house and a van parked outside. "This complicates things," Dean stated. What on earth were those people thinking, it was common knowledge in the area that innocent lives had been lost there in the past. With any luck they'd be able to persuade them to leave. We pulled over and climbed out of the car, "Ready?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied as I nodded.

I fell into step behind Sam and Dean as the sound of shouting grew louder.

"Police officers! Freeze! Let's see some identification," Sam shouted. They were just kids, scared looking kids, or at least half of them were. Then again you couldn't really call them kids, they looked old enough to know better but people were idiots.

"I know you," one of them stepped forward closer to the Winchesters.

"Yeah, sure you do," Dean replied not convinced, they we're obviously just trying to get out of trouble.

"No hold on a second, I know both of you guys," he was persistent, I'd give him that.

Sam turned and muttered to Dean, "holy shit."

"Hell hounds or something," Dean muttered back. By now I was more than confused.

"Listen here chisel chest," I had to stifle a laugh, "We were here first, we've already set up base camp we've beat you." Dean didn't take to kindly to this and kneed him the stomach.

Sam and Dean tried to convince them to leave, feeling slightly confused and out of it I just stood back and watched. I nearly jumped out of my skin as two more ran into the room, "oh my god! We've got one." As far as I was aware there wasn't more than one spirit, not that our research had been very helpful. I wandered over to where a bunch of monitors were set up and stood behind everyone else, "Sam?" I whispered, "Who are they?"

He leaned closer to reply sending butterflies to my stomach, honestly, how pathetic we were on a case for crying out loud, "idiots from west Texas."

"Right," I answered, still confused but I couldn't exactly question Sam further, he'd already taken off with Dean to where this spirit was whilst I'd be staring at the computer set up in fascination.

Dashing across the room I caught up with them to hear Sam turn to Dean, "you think we're off on this? That was just a death echo." I'd read about death echo's in one of Bobby's books. Trapped spirits who replay over and over again how they died.

Dean whispered loud enough for us both to hear, "Yeah, but what's it doing here? Did anybody get shot here?" he looked at Sam and I expecting us to have the answer. I didn't remember reading anything but then again I did become distracted by Sam.

"Not that we could find," Sam replied before turning back to everybody else, "we've got a problem here and that ghost ain't it."

I wasn't going to argue, we needed to get everyone out of here. One of the ghostfacers, as they we're referring to themselves as interrupted us, "wait, where's Corbett?" Oh great, there's one missing, just brilliant because this wasn't becoming difficult enough.

They ran off leaving us stood there, "guys!" Sam shouted but they weren't listening.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Dean tried to take control which took some doing; eventually he managed to get everyone to head back downstairs. Sam grabbed my hand as we ran down the stairs, making sure that I kept up. With all these people it was hard to keep tabs on Sam and Dean.

Once downstairs we had a problem, we couldn't get out and not through lack of trying. I nearly jumped ten feet in the air as Sam picked up a chair and threw it at the window but it didn't work. The sound of the EMF going crazy cut across all conversation, "guys stay close," I edged closer to Sam and tightened my grip on my shotgun.

There it was, right in front of us, replaying over and over again, the death echo of a man being hit by a train. It was disturbing but I couldn't help but be curious after reading it in a book. Dean tried to snap the spirit out of it but it wasn't working.

Moving through the house we rummaged for anything that might shed light on the situation. I made sure everyone was in front of me as we passed through the corridor, "walk faster, we need to stay close," I snapped at one of the kids, surprising myself with my own authority.

We sifted through stacks of paper in a room packed with tinned food and old files. Sam was the first to find something, "last owner died of a heart attack in 1964."

The ghostfacer known as Ed was beginning to panic, I felt sorry for him even if he didn't know what he was doing. Dean dropped a box onto a dusty table, "Toe tags, gunshot, train accident, suicide, explains the suicide," he riffled through the boxes contents.

Sam jumped to a conclusion immediately, "the bodies are here, somewhere in the house."