Breakfast.

Such a foreign concept. I had never enjoyed breakfast with my aunt and uncle before. I was always up and out at our appointments and anything I did eat was usually a banana or some crackers packed for the travel. Did Nick really expect me to eat something? I looked at the bowl of fruit sitting before in the middle of the kitchen table. It looked like something you would find in a tv show, just for looks not for eating. But then again that's how everything looked now in days. Not realy, not for actual use.

I pick up the banana with a sigh.

I could imagine Dean's voice saying "Good girl" or something cheesy like that. Dean. With him breakfast was always the most important meal of the day. I always pulled out all the stops for him and for some reason, having him here to eat my food made me want to eat too. That's just the way he was. Contagious. Speaking of Dean, I hadn't checked my phone all morning, did he leave me a message.

I checked the cell phone and smiled brightly as I looked at it. He left me one. I closed my eyes and put the phone to my ear, imagining that he was right beside me whispering the words.

"Hey Lor,I'm positive Dad hasn't even stopped here let alone worked a job. Sam's antsy to get out of here but there's people we still gotta help. It turns out there's a girl here by the name of Haley and her younger brother Ben that need our help. Their brother Tommy went on a camping trip and hasn't come back. Sam's wants to head out but I now somethings up. Something just isn't right here. Anyway, looks like we'll be sticking around for a little bit longer than expected unless Sam has his way with me and slips something into my drink..I...I think Sam is losing it..As far as I'm concerned when it comes to you and him...it won't happen. If he keeps this up you'll stay my dirty little secret and you know I like it that way...I l-...I need to go now...I might not call in a while but don't worry-about the job or the girl, babe. I have a feeling this one's gonna drag me into the woods with no chance for secret phone calls. Anyway...I miss you."

Well...that hadn't been as helpful as I had imagined. Don't worry? Dean knew me better than that. I put the banana back in it's place as I stood from the table and walked to the room for the notebook. If I thought eating was difficult before it was going to be impossible after that message. I jotted down the date on the page and began to do the usual habit but as I did I realized this wasn't going to work out anymore. It wasn't helping me get through the long months that seemed to be getting longer and longer. I could hear in his voice...in the way he called me babe that he felt the same way but it was different for him. He had something to do, someone to keep him occupied. I had nothing and no one but my own lonely company.

I huffed and walked back to the kitchen.

This kind of thinking was never beneficial.

I began to cook up some oatmeal because the familiar fogginess around my vision reminded me that some nutrition was required. But cooking created a numbness that allowed the memories I hated to creep in with no resistance. I sighed as continued my actions, I couldn't keep living in them.

The night John left us in the hotel room we stayed up talking. We talked about our mother's and what we knew of their deaths. He told me about what he remembered of his mother and about his brother that was actually my age. He told me about the recent trouble that kept them all seperated at Dean's expense. He told me about how he fixed up my leg with dental floss and some random items with a shakey hand and yet I didn't make a peep. He told me more about how my aunt and uncle were killed and about the many things him and his family faced that were just as terrible as Steven. For few minutes at a time he'd sneak out and get us some treats when I was hungry, my favorites, and when he'd return we'd talk about music and movies and the things that brought us the simple kind of joy.

He told me stories about the monsters he had faced. He told me stories about his brother and about the last time he saw him. He told me about how he carried his brother Sam from the burning house. He told me he sometimes wished he didn't have to do this job, go from place to place to save people without being able to reap in the rewards. Sometimes he wished...he could settle down and just have a real girlfriend.

And then the conversation came down to how I was dealing with the loss of my gaurdians.

"Can you pass me some Nerds?" I asked instead of answering his actual question.

He gave me this look, this little squint of the eyes that meant he knew I was avoiding the question. But still he passed me a box of pinks and purples. I focused on shaking a them out into my palm as I balanced criss-cross-apple-sauce on my bed with Dean laying on his elbows beside me. It was actually difficult task to do since I was so sure I was going to fall forward at any second.

I popped the handfull into my mouth and chewed onto it then put my sour apple lollipop back where it belonged. I thought maybe by buying myself some time he would lose interest in my answer..but he was still watching me as he ate his peanut m and m's one by one. I tried not to look into his eyes because looking there always made me dizzy so instead I focused on the bag we had bought from the store between us like an ocean of forbidden goods as I answered, "You know...my aunt would never let me eat any of this..."

He didn't say anything like I expected him too. He just looked at me with those eyes that just...saw through me. Saw through the sick Damsel in distress to...to what was down under, what ever that may be.

"My uncle use to sneak me some candy. Nerds-my favorite-but that stopped when I got really sick and my aunt had to quit her job. They got into a big fight and she blamed him...for everything. Apparently my mother had been living with them when I was born and he used to like to smoke cigars before bed and the night she died he fell asleep with one in his mouth. Well...that's what they said. My aunt yelled at him so bad and I remember thinking it wasn't his fault...I knew he didn't kill my mother and he didn't make me sick. But that didn't stop her from blaming him and then that didn't stop him from shutting down. He just...stopped talking, period. And my aunt. She was always...like that. Always on top of me. Always making sure I took my medicine, tried the new treatment, or saw the new doctors. She never asked me what I wanted to do. My whole life it was never a question that I was going to follow her to what ever new scheme she had concocted to get me better but the funny thing is...she never talked to me unless she was telling me to do something. I never talked to her like I talk to you...I never talked to ANYONE like I talk to you. Instead she just drank and left me alone. We just kept getting colder and more distant the older I got," I sighed, grabbing the water bottle perched in the middle of my legs to take a quick drink. A frog had jumped into my throat and was making it hard to talk. I never talked like this and I didn't want to stop, "She wanted me to try a new experiment that would make my hair follow out again and it would hurt and there was a chance I would become paralyzed. I didn't want to do it but I didn't have a choice. That was it I was going to do it. We never talked about my choices or my feelings."

I expected an answer a reply at this point but still Dean was silent. Not even an "uhuh" escaped his lips and for a second I thought he had fallen asleep in the middle of it. But when I glanced at him he was still staring at me in that quiet, expecting way as if there was more to the story that I wasn't sharing. As if he still wanted to listen to me.

"I know I should have been grateful. And now that she's..gone I should have this big realization that she wasn't that bad. That maybe her only flaw was that she cared too much or something. But she didn't care that much. She wasn't trying to save me. She was trying to save my mother and instead of sadness or regret...I just feel relief. I feel like my life can start now, like no one can tell me what to do," my eyes feel the opposite of watery. They feel so dry I feel like each bat of my lashes are going to start a fire of some sort..and then I realize what this feeling is, "I feel relieved..but I feel guilty too."

I saw his head nod in the corner of my eye but I wasn't sure if that meant he wanted me to continue. I couldn't continue. There was nothing left for me to say, that was it. I opened my mouth to tell him that but suddenly he took my hand between both of his any my heart was suddenly stuck inside of my mouth and I couldn't say a word. There was no way I could look into his eyes now but something about his actions called me to them and I could see his cheeks just a little red, not as red as mine, but something as he softly said, "You don't have to feel guilty, Lori. You're right to feel relieved and you shouldn't let anything ruin that. You're free now...and you're with me. You can do anything you want."

I felt my face explode like a fire cracker. He was good. Saying I could do anything I want after saying that I was with him after he touched my hand and somehow drew me in so close to him I knew my hair was tickling the slight stuble on his cheek. He wanted me to kiss him. But how could I do that? I had never been kissed before! I told him that and had to listen to him laugh at me for like half an hour, how did he expect me to make the first move now! Or was that his plan? To see if I was too chicken to take what I wanted from him in this moment. Well...I didn't want him to think I was scared or too weak to act out with him. I pulled my hand out of both of his and rested it on his cheek, feeling the tiny hairs poke my palm as I leaned in. This was it. My first kiss. I was going to get it!

Or so I thought.

The door swung open just as I was working up the suspense and like children we pulled away to opposite ends of the bed with our candy in our mouths as if that would replace what else we were going to do with them. John walked into the room muddy and smiling with a big bag in his hand. He tossed the bag on the small table in the room as he commented, "I see you're awake."

"Yeah..." I drawled as I took in his entire appearance. "Why are you so muddy?"

His smile faultered as he shut the door behind him, losing the pleasantries of the situation as he answered with, "It's a long story. I brought your medicine."

An involuntary groan escaped my mouth and I quickly smacked my hands over my mouth. I didn't mean to do that but I thought I was done with that stuff! John gave me this sweet little smile, the kind that my uncle used to give when I made the same noise at my aunt. But Dean took away the little moment as he stood from the bed as he asked, "Is it done?"

Yes again John's smile disapatted. He frowned disapprovingly as he pulled off his jacket and kicked off his boots, "No."

"What's not done?" I asked, looking between both of them as I felt the tension in the room suddenly increase to the point it could be cut with a butter knife.

John sighed a heavy sigh as he answered,"You're not safe yet. Not even close."

"What does that mean? Am I in danger? Am I going to die?" the questions shot out of my mouth, the shock having caused my filter momentarily to lose focus.

"No, Lori, we're not gonna let anything hurt you, alright?" it was Dean now, talking in a serious tone just like John's that had the same effect of being calming and still informing. I nodded my head weakly as I watched him look back at John for some sort of invisible que before continuing, "We're just gonna have to...stay with us a little longer. So we can keep you safe and get this bastard off your back."

Was it my imagination or was there a smile pulling at the corners of his lips? Oh, why did he have to do that? I lowered my face because I could feel a smile growing there too and I wasn't nearly as good as manipulating it as he was. Why did he have to make me feel all girly in front of John? From our short interactions and the stores from Dean I had begun to I feel an attachment to John as if...he were my dad. Because in fact he was the dad I would want. One that would protect me and defend me no matter what.

"Is that alright?" John asked with a tentativeness that seemed so misplaced in his usually strong and sure voice.

I looked up and nodded my head, trying not to sound too eager as I answered,"That's just fine."

The house phone rang, pulling me from my memories and the zombie-like way I consumed my oatmeal. I covered my ears slightly, trying to block out the loud ringing because I really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone today. The answering maching picked it up and to my surprise it was Nick.

"Hey, Lori, I'm just checking in to make sure you got some breakfast and make sure you take your medicine. The pharmacy told me you already picked it up so you can't say it's a mix up again. I'm not my father, you're not going to get away with that one again. Anyway, make sure you get some rest and have a good day."

Oh Nick, how I wished it were that simple.