June 30th, 2008

Lizzy walks down the paved walkway around to the front of the bright blue and white trimmed house. She's meeting the landlord there to check out the second floor apartment that's for rent. She decided that the large house, though it's filled with wonderful memories of childhood and her parents and grandmother, isn't something she can handle at this point. She's not in a mental state that will allow her to keep up with mowing lawns or fixing pipes. Plus, the space just feels so huge with just her in it. It's a lonely feeling being there and if she was going to move on, she needed to move out first.

This is the first time she's left the house in days. She'd spent her time drinking, sleeping when she could, crying, and living in a haze of sadness for far too long now. She started to worry herself when she tried to remember the last time she showered or talked to a person, any person. This is not what Dean wanted for her, not what Lou would ever expect from her. That was her breaking point. The two people who meant the most to her, her soul mates, would be so disappointed and she couldn't stand the thought.

"Hi there! You must be Lizzy!" the older gentleman with white hair greets as she walks around the corner. He stands up from his seated place on the front steps and reaches out to shake her hand. "I'm Dave. I talked to you on the phone yesterday."

"Hi Dave," Lizzy quietly responds as she scans over the front of the building. It looks like any other old two story house in New England; weather worn and with details that newer houses just didn't have. It has a certain charm about it, Lizzy thinks.

"This place is a great little gem. It's unique and really quaint. One of my favorite properties," Dave explains while holding open the screened-in porch door for Lizzy to walk through.

"The pictures online were nice," Lizzy admits. She found the posting for the apartment online a couple days ago and loved the random features that it seemed to have, like the picture window in the living room and the built into the wall shelving in the bedroom. She was drawn in immediately.

"It's even better in person, trust me." Dave turns the key in the decorative front door with stained glass windows and lets her in. She walks into the foyer, a small room at the bottom of a hardwood staircase with a huge, carved wooden bannister. She feels at ease within its walls already as a warmth overcomes her.

"Go ahead up, I'll let you look around and if you have any questions you just ask," Dave smiles to her.

"Thanks," Lizzy says as she begins climbing the stairs to check the place out. The large, open, hardwood floored hallway connects to every room. At the top of the steps is a bathroom to the right with antique looking light fixtures and a brown tiled floor. To the left was the small kitchen. Not an eat-in but it has plenty of counter space. The bedroom and living room are on the opposite end of the hallway and as she makes her way, her boots dropping loudly on the wooden floor, she just feels so… comfortable. Like she's home. Unable to put her finger on it, she scans each room without really looking at them. She knows she's going to take the place already.

Once she's done looking around the bedroom, she goes to leave but pauses in the wood molded doorway while looking back down the hall. The thought of Dean pops up suddenly, without warning at all, and she's confused. It isn't like the million other times she thinks of him on a daily basis. This is stronger, like he's there somewhere in the apartment, like she was expecting to see him at the top of the stairs. It makes absolutely no sense why she would suddenly feel this way but she knows there's something here, something making this feeling happen and it makes her oddly hopeful. What the fuck is going on?

"So what do you think?" Dave questions while making his way up the stairs to check on her. "Great place huh? Has a nice feel to it I think."

"You could say that again," Lizzy mutters under her breath, still caught off guard by the flashing moment.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," Lizzy smiles back. "I love it. Um, heat's included, right?"

"Definitely."

"Then this place is kind of a bargain."

"Should I raise my rent then?" he grins over to her and Lizzy waves him off.

"No, no way. I'd love to live here," she tells him. "I'll take it if you'll have me."

Years. It's been years of monotonous torture. So many that he's lost count. And it's almost always the same. Alistair shows up, gives him the very tempting offer to end his own agony, he refuses with a few choice words attached, and then the awful, previously unimaginable pain begins. It very rarely ever changed. There were the few days that Meg was allowed to let out her hatred towards both he and his brother on him, though. That had been different and those days were among the worst, if any could actually garner the label as worse than others. They were all horrific in their own way.

Every great now and then, once the day was over and the carving and burning had stopped and it was just blackness for a far too brief time, Dean dreamed. How it was possible, he has no idea. He's just beyond grateful for the chance to see and experience something other than the same. Most of the time his dreams consisted of vicious revenge, of Alistair on the rack for once as he did his best to return the torment and suffering to the evil son of a bitch that loved to focus on him.

This time, however, might have been worse than anything any demon could do to him. This dream wasn't of torture and pain at all; it was of love and contentment instead. He dreamed he was still topside, driving while his beloved car roared ahead, AC/DC blasting loudly from its speakers with the windows down and the wind whipping around his face. He looks over to the passenger side and smiles as Lizzy grins wide and toothy back at him, the same smile he's come to adore over the time he's known her. Her long dark hair waves in the wind from the open windows as she sings loudly and completely off key along to 'Touch Too Much'. He reaches across the seat and grabs her hand, feeling the contact as if it were real. Peering into the rearview mirror he sees Sam, his Sammy, nose buried in his Dad's journal and concentrating hard. Sam lifts his head to lock eyes with his older brother, smiling as he does. God damn, he's never felt better in his life, Dean thinks as he looks back out the windshield. He breathes in the fresh air, taking in the scent of the countryside they're driving through, and relaxes back into the familiar leather seat.

"Dean," he hears Lizzy call to him and looks to his right. She smiles warmly back and blinks once, her bronze eyes just a second ago lit up with the sunlight, now turn quickly to black. She speaks to him, but it isn't her voice anymore.

"New day, Dean," he hears the voice of Alistair come out of Lizzy's mouth. He closed his eyes and reopens them. There he is, on the rack and in one piece. It was the worst feeling he's ever experienced, the biggest let down of his life. He's angry but not like before. He's furious when he sees the Grand Inquisitor standing before him, but he's even more sadden and worn down than mad.

"Same question."

"Shove it up your ass," Dean responds quietly, still destroyed by his dream's false sense of security and happiness.

"Aw, where's that fire you usually speak to me with?" Alistair questions.

"Fuck you," Dean sadly mutters before the day starts like any other, with impossible torment and pain.

"That's fucking insane," Sam quietly informs Ruby as he sits on the yellow flowered comforter covering the crappy motel bed. "I'm not doing that."

Ruby crosses her arms and stands over him, annoyed by his millionth refusal. "Sam, knock it off," she tells him. "You want to kill the bitch, you gotta be strong enough to do it."

"Then find another way to get me stronger, because there is no fucking way I am doing that." Sam runs a frustrated hand through his hair as his determination wavers. Is he really considering doing this?

"There is no other way," Ruby explains with annoyance. "This is it, buddy boy. You gotta do what I'm telling you to."

"Dean would hate me for this," he says sadly, more to himself than her.

"And Dean isn't here. Killing Lilith will make that damnation of his worth something."

Sam sighs loudly and bows his head. Dean would kill him, absolutely fucking murder him, for even considering this. Lou would too. He knows how wrong, how inhuman this plan is, but the need for revenge has always been one of the few things Sam couldn't resist. Getting justice for his mother, his father, and his Jessica's death was the sweetest moment he's experienced. Now he's got himself a new enemy in his crosshairs, the one that took away his only remaining blood family, and he can't rest until vengeance is his.

"I'll…" Sam stops mid-agreement when his phone rings. He closes his eyes in frustration and plunges his hand into his pocket. Looking at the lit up screen he isn't surprised in the least to see Lizzy's name. He hasn't talked to her since he left her house over a month ago. She's called him numerous times, always leaving a loving voicemail asking him to call and telling him he's not alone. He knows she deserves to hear from him, she's entitled to know he's ok, but now is most definitely not the time. He lets her call go to voicemail and pushes the guilt of ignoring her aside.

"You were saying?" Ruby asks expectantly. Sam looks over to one of the few allies he has left. A fucking demon. Granted she did save his ass from certain death. Clearly he feels he can trust her, but the nagging reservations never subside.

"I was saying… I'll do it." Hesitation coating his words, he agrees.

Ruby smiles down at him and places a hand to his cheek. "You won't regret this, Sam," she tells him while pulling a knife from her boot. "Especially not when you're watching the light fade from Lilith's eyes as she dies at your hands."

Sam smiles widely with the thought and watches as the demon cuts deeply into her own arm. The slice begins to bleed and she catches the blood in one of the glasses from the bathroom. It fills quickly and Sam gets jittery at the sight. Fuck, he's really going to do this. He's going to go down this dark, totally screwed up road. All for Dean and vengeance. At least he already knows it'll be completely worth it.

Ruby holds the cup out to him and grins. "Down the hatch."

Bobby jumps at the sound of a phone ringing. He'd passed out a few hours ago on the couch in the living room, drunk midday during his current binge. He rubs his eyes and recognizes the sound he hears immediately. It's his F.B.I. line.

"Damn it," Bobby grumbles as he works hard to pry himself off of the comfortable furniture he'd much rather stay lying on. He shuffles his tired feet across the linoleum floor of the kitchen and over to the wall of phones. He grabs the one still ringing and pulls it roughly to his ear.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is…"

"Bobby!" Lizzy says quickly and Bobby can practically hear the smile on her face.

"Lizzy," he responds while washing a hand down his face, relieved that he doesn't actually have to work and vouch for someone at this time. "How're ya', hun?"

"I'm horrible. You?"

"Oh 'bout the same," Bobby tells her while holding up a nearly empty bottle of whiskey and pouring the last few gulps left into a nearby glass. He really needs to clean this place up soon.

"Sorry for clogging up one of your work lines, but I tried your cell a few times. You never answered. Figured this was the best way to get your attention."

"Yeah, ah," Bobby searches his pockets. "Sorry 'bout that. Not sure where my cell is right now." Being drunk most of the time really does a number on your memory, he thinks to himself.

"Oh, it's fine. I just needed to call for a few reasons, beside the fact that I haven't heard from you in a few days now." She made it a point to call him every other day. It kept her grounded hearing his voice, and it stopped her from taking some drastic actions to end the pain once and for all by reminding her that people still love her and need her out there somewhere.

"Yeah, it's been a rough couple a' days," Bobby says. He'd do just fine for a few days, looking for new hunts and going about his business as best he could. Then a wave of depression would hit and it'd be awful, sometimes for a week straight.

"Well, first thing is, I'm moving."

"What? Why?" Bobby questions her. "That house of yours is nice… and free."

"And huge, and lonely, and filled with memories," Lizzy pauses. "I need to get outta there if I'm ever gonna move on. And I promised I would."

"Ok, kid. I hear ya'." Bobby knows the sadness of a large sized and very empty house and understands her plight completely.

"So I'll text you the address just so you have it. And if you're bored and need a change of scenery, feel free to come help me pack and move… and sell a shit ton of old ass furniture."

"Lemme get back to ya' on that one," Bobby tells her. As much as it would be good for him to leave the confines of his house, he just didn't want to. Not right now. Not yet.

"Aw come on. It'll be fun. Some of this stuff is so old I could make a killing at Antiques Roadshow!"

"Oh, I'm sure it could," he brushes off her humor. He knows she's just doing her best to make things less heavy by joking… but it only reminds him of the way Dean used to do the same. Her attempt completely backfires.

"Well I hope you consider it. I really wouldn't mind the company if I'm being honest."

"You hear from Sam at all?" Bobby changes the subject.

Lizzy sighs heavily on the other end. "No. I called just a few minutes ago to tell him I'm moving. Here's a shocker; he didn't answer his phone."

"That God damned kid," Bobby grumbles while taking down a huge gulp of liquor.

"Bobby, what do we do about him?" Lizzy asks with desperation. "I worry all the fucking time. This isn't good."

"I know, but what the hell're we gonna do. The guy's an adult, can make his own decisions… no matter how stupid they are."

"I just… I can't…" Lizzy pauses. "I can't."

"Hell, neither can I, kiddo," Bobby responds, knowing exactly what Lizzy is trying to say. Neither of them will get through burying another loved one. There's no way they could.

"And I miss him," Lizzy confesses. "Shit, it's like Dean all over again. Avoiding me and leaving me with a whole pile of what the fucks. I give him another week and I'm going GPS all over his ass."

"Can't," Bobby tells her. "Already tried. Changed phone companies. No idea which one he's with now or an account number. Hell, who even knows what fake name he gave them. Luckily he called you a long time ago and you were able to get his number when he did."

"How fucking considerate," she sarcastically says. "So what, we play the waiting game?"

"Yup," Bobby laments while downing the last of what's left in his glass. His place is dry again. Guess he's leaving the house today after all.

"I hate this. I hate all of this."

"You and I both, hon. You and I both."