Tombstone, Arizona

"Thank you for your time Mrs. Owen. We'll let you know if something comes up." Sam told the sniffing woman as he and Dean stepped out of the home of the recently-made widow.

Mrs. Owen nodded sadly as she wiped at her running eyeliner with a damp tissue, smearing her already messy makeup even more. "Thank you Agent House. I knew my husband would never kill himself." She hiccuped, but managed to force a tight-lipped smile to the tall man.

Forcing their own smiles in return, the two brothers nodded goodbye, then stepped off the porch as Mrs. Owen closed the door. Once she was out of earshot, Dean turned to his younger brother, Sam, as they made their way off the Owens' property, his fake FBI smile gone. "I swear, man. What is up with ladies and wearing too much perfume these days?"

His younger, yet much taller brother shrugged as they stepped through the front gate and out onto the sidewalk that spanned along the street. "I don't know. But cut the lady some slack. Her husband was just killed by a ghost this week."

Releasing a snort, Dean shook his head and smiled as he pulled a set of car keys out of his jacket pocket. "Ironic, isn't it? We're hunting a ghost in a town called 'Tombstone'. Sounds like the start of a bad joke."

"Yeah, well, with the Apocalypse going on these days, it wouldn't hurt to make a few jokes, bad or not," Sam added as he walked behind his brother.

Suddenly, Dean stopped short, and Sam turned to him in confusion. "Dean?"

The elder Winchester frowned angrily and stomped to a parked black '67 Chevy Impala where a large yellow dog was sniffing the front tire of the car, obviously thinking about marking it.

"Hey, step away from my Baby!" Dean snapped at the furry animal in annoyance, waving his hands at it, but this didn't seem to bother the lean dog as it wagged its tail earnestly. Rolling his eyes, Dean waved his arms again, the keys in his hand jingled loudly. "Shoo! Move it, mutt!" he growled angrily.

The dog stopped short, then turned its head to face Dean with a curious expression on its face. It's large brown eyes were wide and friendly, and it gave him a doggish grin. Dean held out his hands to wave at the dog again to shoo it away again, when suddenly, the dog jumped up and snatched the hanging keys out of his fingers with its teeth, then took off down the sidewalk.

The two brothers exchanged a shocked look, before they charged after the fleeing canine. "Hey!" Dean shouted after it, angrier than before.

Mrs. Owen, the widow they had just visited, lived in a small house on the corner of the street across from a line of small stores. All were old and in desperate need of a fresh layer of paint, with chipping brick walls and dusty windows that you could barely see through. The yellow dog didn't hesitate in running across the road to reach the stores, forcing the boys to sprint faster just to keep up with its four legs.

The dog led them down past a few sores, then abruptly turned into a dark alley behind a diner with a burnt out neon 'open' sign in the large windows.

Dean charged after the dog, only to freeze in shock as he skidded into the alley. The expected yellow dog was sitting content in the middle of the alley as a young woman stood hunched over him, gently scratching behind the canine's floppy ears.

"Good boy," she said pleasantly to the four-legged animal, dragging her palm over his furry head. The dog happily panted at her feet with his pink tongue lolling out the side of his open muzzle.

The young woman was dressed like a hunter. She wore a pair of faded jeans with patches at the knees, a dark blue t-shirt, and a loose red and black flannel under a stained denim jacket. A tattered backpack was slung over her shoulder, looking more stained and worn than the jacket she wore. Hiking boots peeked out under her jeans, but they were caked in so much mud, Dean could only assume they were brown underneath.

With a final pat on the dog's head, the blonde stood up to her full height to face Dean. The hunter glanced down to her hand, and with an angry frown, he realized she was holding his car keys.

The dog at her feet wagged its tail a final time, then happily trotted down the alley and out of sight.

Dean sensed his little brother step behind him, and felt Sam stiffen as he caught sight of the blonde in front of them. The last time they had seen this woman wasn't a pleasant meeting, and Dean knew his brother wasn't exactly her biggest fan.

"Hey boys. Long time no see," she greeted them with a nod and folded her arms.

Dean gave her an angry glare. "You have exactly three seconds to give those back," he snarled, pointing to the keys in her hand.

The blonde woman held up the key ring and looked at it curiously, as if she had no idea how it got there, then shook it. The keys jingled loudly, sounding like a cry for help to Dean. He took a step to the blonde, but she slid his keys in the pocket of her stained denim jacket.

"You better hand them over, mutt!" Dean shouted.

She shook her head and frowned. "Good to see your manners haven't changed since we last met, Winchester," she said gruffly, then turned her attention to the taller brother behind him. "Hey, Sam. How's the weather up there?" She took a few steps closer to the pair to eye him with a smirk. "Your hair knows there's such a thing called scissors, right?"

Sam narrowed his eyes in response to her comment about his beloved hair. "What are you doing here Sarah? I thought you agreed to stay in the Northern States?"

Sarah adjusted her folded arms so they squeezed her chest tighter, and her smirk melted back into a frown. "Word on the street is that you guys started the Apocalypse. Is that true?" she asked.

The brothers exchanged a look, slightly taken aback by her question. Sure, it wasn't a secret among the hunter community that the 'end of the world' had begun, but the fact that they had started it wasn't common knowledge.

Dean didn't know what to say, but Sarah didn't wait for him to figure out his words. "Honestly, do you guys break everything you touch? Is making trouble your thing, or do were you cursed as kids?"

"Believe me, we ask the same questions," Sam answered with a sigh. The skinwalker gave him an unamused stare before she shook her head in exasperation.

"So, what are you doing here? Definitely not for a friendly visit, that's for sure," Dean snapped sarcastically. "What is it that you want?"

Hitching up her bag on her shoulder, Sarah's frustration faded into her normal hardened expression as she turned to glance at the diner behind them. "Have you tried this place's lunch menu? I swear, their burgers are the best," she said as she brushed past them out of the alley.

The brothers turned to watch her walk to the front entrance of the diner. "She still has our keys," Sam said to his brother.

Dean frowned. "I know, c'mon." With that, they hurried to follow the blonde as she opened the glass door to the diner and stepped inside.