A/N: So this is really short and it's kinda just a filler chapter until I finish the next one which is really long :) As always please read and enjoy. Ratings and Reviews to help improve the story are always welcome and appreciated.

Sam froze as a sudden gust of wind that had whipped through the hotel room. He knew the door was not open (had Dean returned he would have heard it open) and he had no recollection of opening any windows. In one swift fluid motion, Sam pulled the shotgun from the duffel bag and spun to look around the room. Nichole through her hands in the air and squeezed her eyes shut as Sam swung and pointed the gun at her. Sam nearly dropped the gun to the ground out of shock at seeing Nichole. "What in the actual hell?" Sam thought as his eyes widened. Nikki cracked an eye open.

"Hi, Sammy," she whispered. Sam rubbed at his eyes with one hand, the other still desperately clutching the gun that threatened to slip form his grip at any moment.

"This isn't real. You aren't here. You're dead." He hissed steadying the gun as he adjusted his aim toward her. Nichole tensed.

"Sam, it's me Nikki! Remember? Dean's fia-"

"Liar!" Sam snapped. "You're just a demon who takes her shape to torment me!"

"You and I both know that's not possible. Hunter's burial would prevent that!"

"And how would you know if we gave Nichole a hunter's burial or not?"

"Because I am Nichole!"

"Prove it then. If you are Nikki, tell me something only you would know," Sam spat through clenched teeth. The fear present in Nichole's eyes was not that he would shoot her because it would do her no harm. She was more afraid she wouldn't be able to convince him that she was real. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Well, for starters I'm from Belfonte, Oklahoma. I have a birthmark that looks like a heart on my butt or so I'm told. I was working as a bartender when I met you and Dean. Dean was a fake FBI agent and had been hitting on me all night, while you were doing all the work on your case. I had no idea anything supernatural existed until the two of you rescued me from a vampires nest. My three year anniversary was four months ago, August 2, 2014. Dean proposed that night. You helped him pick out the ri-"

"Nikki?" Sam whispered as the gun hit the floor. She smiled.

"Took you long enough Sam." She chuckled.

"Wha- How are yo-"

"No time. I'll explain later. If I'm still around," Nichole added the last part under her breath. "Where's Dean?"

"Dean went on a beer run but," Sam stuttered before casting a nervous glance at his watch. "That was over four hours ago." Nichole's eyes flew open.

"Where's the nearest crossroad?"

"Three miles North of-"

"I need a street name Sam."

"Uh Center, why?"

"Oh that's too perfect, to freggin perfect."

"What's too perfect? Nikki what the hell is going on?"

"I used to work at a bar on center street."

"Yeah but what does that have to do with-"

"Sam have you ever once considered it wasn't a demon that killed me?" Nichole snapped as she phased through the door. Sam looked flabbergasted.

"Well yeah, but-"

"It wasn't a demon. It was a vamp."

"How the hell would you know-"

"Remember when we first met? I was a bartender and you rescued me from a vamp nest. My death and this whole thing with Dean is almost too poetic in the way that its all happening. I die in some vicious attack like they did, and Dean is trying to bring back his lover on the street where she used to work and where they first met. It's like this is personal. Sam I think you missed one of the vamps in that nest." Nikki recounted as she turned to face Sam. "Meet me there."

"Do what?"

"You heard me. Meet me there. I can be there it a second. It's at least a 15 minute walk for you." That was all Nichole said before she disappeared from Sam's vision.

"Wait. Nikki!" Sam shouted. He looked around helplessly. "Damn it!" He fished around in his pocket for his phone. "Cas. I need your help."