The boys sat around the large, wooden tables in the library. It had a comforting, musty smell to it. A smell that the boys had associated with home. It sure beat the smell of the hundreds of motels they had stayed at over the past eight years. It was always just some odd smell that made your stomach twist into knots, because you never wanted to know what exactly happened in the rooms. Sure, the boys did their fair share of unusual activities in the rooms, demon summoning, gun fights, fist fights, but some people were into some weird stuff.

Erin wandered aimlessly through the bunker, admiring how nice it seemed. If the boys didn't kill her in the next 24 hours, then she would love to stay here. She'd been sleeping in her car for the past month, and a bed sounded wonderful. She finally walked into the library and was met with cold stares. Their looks followed her as she awkwardly walked to the end of the table and took a seat. She swallowed quickly and returned the gaze. The silence was deafening.

"So, Erin," Dean cleared his throat, "how did you know Jo?"

"She, uh," Erin glancing quickly at Sam, "worked with me for a few hunts when she was hunting solo." Sam had his hand ready to grab the gun, clearly still not trusting her.

"What were you hunting?" Sam asked.

"A few restless spirits in Montana. Nothing really major," she shifted in her seat.

"What's her mother's name?" Dean leaned back in his seat.

"Helen."

"Last name?"

"Harvelle. Satisfied?" she sat up straighter, "If so, I'd appreciate it if Sam put the gun away."

"Fine," Sam huffed and put it back.

"Well then," she smiled, "Now that we have all the formalities out of the way, what can I do for you?"

"Well, Cas here can tell you what we know," Dean relaxed.

"I'm all ears," Erin laughed and turned to face Castiel.

Cas told Erin everything he knew about Metatron, the angels, the wars, the gates of Hell, with Dean and Sam interjecting occasionally to add more information. Erin just nodded her head calmly, and no one quite understood why. Cas then began to tell her about Crowley, and Erin perked up. Interest danced across her eyes. Cas tilted his head at that.

"So you're telling me the King of Hell is in your dungeon?" She grinned.

"Pretty much," Kevin laughed.

"Awesome," she grinned wider. Dean simply shook his head and awe. Who was this girl?

"I guess," Sam shrugged.

"So want to back out?" Dean leaned forward.

"Not really," Erin shrugged and stood up. She wandered over to the books, touching the spines of a few. The boys just stared at her, though Cas still had his head tilted. Just because he was human didn't mean he could understand social cues. Dean told him that he'd eventually get the hang out of it, but Dean and Cas both knew that was total bull crap.

"So, Erin, what are you planning on doing here?" Dean stood up slowly. He leaned on the bookshelf.

"Well," she looked up, letting a small smile play on her lips. She leaned in closer. Cas and Sam both cleared their throats. "I was planning on fixing this damn rattling noise in my engine."

"I can help," he leaned in more.

"Too bad I don't need it," she scoffed and walked away. She had seen the garage bay in her wandering. Hopefully the tools were there. She walked out silently, feeling rather smug. Dean just stood there, eyes wide.

"Guess you don't have it anymore," Sam laughed.

"Yeah, shut up," Dean coughed nervously, "I still have it."

"Sure."

"Sam?" Cas asked as Dean left the room.

"Yea Cas?" Sam looked up.

"Why did Erin just turn Dean down?"

"Probably because she's smart."

Cas nodded in agreement.

The sun hung low on the horizon, and everything had a gold tint to it. Erin was hunched over a toolbox, trying to find a simple tool. Did these boys not believe in a stock to repair cars? She rolled her eyes and sat down on the bench, just staring off into the distance. She chose to leave the door open, mostly because it was hot as Hell in here. She scanned the bay, inspecting the various propaganda that hung on the walls. Vintage posters, that probably weren't so vintage when they were hung up. They curled over time and yellowed slightly. The garage had a bitter scent that made her nose curl up a bit. It was like a bad cologne. She had smelled her fair share of bad colognes, because her brother didn't really know what was a decent smell and what made a girl want to run as far away from his as possible.

The sound of shuffling footsteps snapped Erin out of her trance, and she stood up to see who it was. Dean was probably coming to tease her and see how badly she had messed up her car. She could fix a damn rattling engine, but he didn't want to acknowledge that.

"You come to make an ass of yourself?" she laughed, walking over to the engine, "Because I'm almost done fixing this damn rattling noise."

"Uh, no," a different voice replied. It was Cas.

"Oh sorry!" she turned around, red in the face, "I thought you were Dean."

"Would you like me to get him?" Cas stopped walking.

"Uh, no. I just needed to find a tool I needed."

"Dean told me to bring this to you," he held out the tool she was looking for. She jumped over and grabbed it from his hand.

"Thanks," she smiled before walking back to her car. Cas just stood there. Unsure what to do next.

"You're welcome," he muttered.

"You gonna just stand there, or do wanna pull up a seat for the show," she turned around, wiggling her hips slightly as a joke. How could someone be so cheerful as a hunter?

Cas walked quietly over to the bench, sitting down and just looking at the ground. He held his hands together, twiddling his thumbs absentmindedly.

"You don't talk much do you?" Erin peered over her shoulder.

"I would speak if I had anything to say," Cas deadpanned.

"Think of something," she laughed.

"Are you enjoying it here at bunker?" Cas threw out. He honestly had no idea what he was doing.

"Oh yeah. It's great. Much better than the cruddy motels I'm used to."

"That's good," Cas dropped his head again.

"Yea," Erin dragged out. A thought crossed her mind. This silence was awfully boring, so she walked around to her car door. She crawled inside, which caused Cas to look up in confusion. She crawled back out with a stereo in one hand and an iPod in the other. She set it down on the toolbox and plugged her iPod in. "You listen to anything in particular?"

"No. I never had time to," Cas paused, "acquire a specific music taste."

"That's what I wanted to hear," she smiled and turned some screechy, electronic music on. Cas just looked at her with wide eyes. That wasn't the kind of music he was expecting. She seemed like she'd like Dean's music.

She wiggled her way back to the engine and picked up her tools. She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the back of the engine. When she was younger, Erin thought her height was a disadvantage, but that changed when she started hunting. Most underestimated her, but were shocked when she whooped their ass. She figured her shortness was just a cover up for the kickass girl underneath.

"This music," Cas spoke loudly, so that Erin could hear him over the music, "is different."

"Yeah?" She replied.

"I like it," Cas smiled, barely. Erin turned around to see the last of the smile before his face was blank again. She wiped her hands on her shirt and closed the hood.

"Let's see if this works," she bent down to pick the other tools on the ground. Cas watched her, and didn't realize where he was staring until a husky voice whispered in his ear.

"You know, if you're gonna stare at her ass, at least be subtle about it," Dean laughed.

"I wasn't," Cas began.

"Sure," Dean pat him on the shoulder, "Got her all fixed?" Dean addressed Erin.

"Just about to see if she rattled anymore," she smiled and reached in the car from the window. She turned the key and the Camaro roared to life, with no rattling. She smiled to herself and turned the engine off.

"Sounds good," Dean commented.

"I'll tell you what sounds good, a beer," she replied, sitting on the hood of the car.

"Will do," Dean smirked and walked out. What was with all the smiling?

Another upbeat song came on, with a lot of whistling. Erin whistled along, eyes catching with Cas's. He was just staring at her. She didn't know whether to be creeped out or flattered. She didn't have time to ask, because Dean was out again with three beers. She nodded and took hers, popping the top off quickly. The three sat there for a moment, silently sipping on their beers.

"You like this crap?" Dean scoffed, jerking his head to the stereo.

"You don't like it leave, then leave," she started to move her head to the music.

"I would, but I figured you'd want in a hunt we're doing tonight."

"What we hunting?"

"Couple of demons an hour out of town. They've been making a mess of things. Don't think they got the memo that we have bigger fish to fry right now."

"Who's all going?" she took another sip of her beer.

"Sam and I, and you if you want to."

"No Cas?" she raised an eyebrow, while Cas kept his eyes on the ground.

"We didn't know if he was up to it," Dean stated.

"He's a big boy. He can handle it," Erin laughed.

"I'm willing to hunt if you allow me to," Cas looked up at Dean.

"Fine, but you're responsible for his ass Erin," Dean rolled his eyes and walked out.

"Thank you," Cas muttered, standing up.

"Anytime,"she stood up as well. Stretching her arms. Her shirt rode up a bit, and Cas stared, again.

Dean returned with Sammy, who was looking even better than he did this morning. He was energetic and awake. You wouldn't have known that he almost had died a few nights ago. They walked over to the Impala and hopped in. The engine roaring to life. Erin slid into her car, and looked expectantly at Cas through the windshield.

"Pick a car or stay home, buddy," she hollered, turning on her car. Cas walked to the passenger seat of her car and opened up the door slowly. He slid in awkwardly. Dean pulled his car out, and Erin followed after him. Closing the door to the garage bay behind them. The rode in silence, until Erin finally turned on the radio. This guy was awkward.

"So," she drawled, "how's being human?"

"Strange," he said quietly, "I'm not really used to it."

"Do you like it? I mean I'm sure it's not as great as being an angel or whatever, but yeah," she muttered awkwardly.

"It's not bad," Cas smiled, looking at her, "it has its perks."

"That's good," she looked at him, caught off guard by his smile, "Since when do you smile?"

"Not often," Cas sighed.

"You should change that," she looked back to the road, "Just because our lives suck ass, doesn't mean we can't smile while we go through Hell."

Erin shut off the radio as the pulled up to the warehouse. What was up with these things? Demon hangout number one. The hopped out of their cars quickly, guns in hand. Cas just stood there dumbly.

"Oh right," Dean muttered, tossing Cas a gun. He loaded it quickly. They snuck up to the doors. Sam swiftly kicked it in and they rushed in, guns aimed. They spread out in various directions, Cas was a few steps behind everyone else. Dean rolled his eyes and continued what he was doing. Erin slowly slid to a slightly opened door. She burst in, but dropped her gun to her side instantly.

"Crap!" She yelled. The other ran to her.

"What?" Sam grunted.

"Look," she motioned to the pile of bodies in the middle of the floor.

"Those were are demons."

"Looks like someone beat us to it."

"Well, awesome. Less work for us," Dean flicked out his lighter and tossed it onto the bodies.

"Shame really. I was looking forward to ganking some demons," Erin sighed. The boys looked at her like she was insane, "Now what?" She began to walk out.

"We go home," Sam shrugged.

"There's no place like home, huh?" She muttered. She thought she was hilarious. They were in Kansas after all.

"Guess so, What's you're bright idea Ms. Comedy?" Dean sneered.

"Get wasted? Yea that sounds fun."

"We've got alcohol back at the bunker."

"Fine, kill joy." She rolled her eyes. They walked back to their cars quickly. Dean and Sam sped off in the Impala, but Erin just stared out the window. Cas cleared his throat loudly to break the silence.

"Sorry," she squeaked, shaking her head.

"You ok?" Cas tried to show concern.

"Yeah, just," she paused, "nevermind." With that she sped after the boys. It seemed to take longer to get home. When they finally pulled into up to the bunker, Erin didn't even pull into the garage bay. Cas got out awkwardly, walking away, but looked back. Erin shut off the car, and got out. Instead of walking inside she just climbed up to the roof of the Camaro.

Inside the bunker Dean grabbed a few beers, and wandered to find Sam and Cas. Cas stumbled through the door and glanced up quickly at Dean, before shuffling on his way.

"Cas! Wait up!" Dean hollered. He trailed behind Cas.

"Erin is outside," cas muttered, "I don't know why."

"Thanks," Dean patted him on the back and handed Cas a beer. He turned back and wandered outside. Erin was just perched on top of her car, staring out at nothing. This girl must be bipolar. Dean shuffled out of the garage bay onto to the gravel. It crunched loudly underneath him, and then Erin didn't look so peaceful. She jumped off the car, and crouched low to ground. Dean raised an eyebrow. That was not a hunter crouch. Not that there was really a guide book to proper hunting technique. If there was one, then it would have said: Don't get your ass killed.

Erin was low to the ground, legs spread wide as if she was going to drop down into a split at any moment. Dean heard the subtle click of a gun and he figured he should say something before he got killed. Erin rolled out on the ground from behind her car. Gun aimed rigidly, but it dropped when she recognized Dean in the dark.

"I come in peace," he muttered, walking closer with a beer extended out. She took it quietly.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" She tilted her head, which only reminded Dean of Cas.

"That whole pounce thing," Dean gestured at the car.

"Oh that," she said flatly.

"Yeah that. It was pretty intense."

"Just a gut reaction," she shrugged.

"Well, it looked uncomfortable," Dean laughed, shifting his weight back and forth.

"It's not bad. I'm pretty flexible," she winked. Dean took in a sharp breath.

"Why do you do it that way?"

"Trained that way."

"Who the hell teaches someone to hunt like that?"

"Some idiot that I stuck around with for a while. He was a dick."

"But you still do it?"

"Just because he was sick, perverted teacher didn't mean I couldn't kick ass."

"Fair enough," Dean held up his hands in surrender.

"It's actually quite fun, honestly," Erin giggled.

"How so?"

"People underestimate me because I hunt in a feminine way or whatever. Sucks for them when they find out what I can do."

"It's definitely distracting and surprising."

"That's the intention."

"When did you become a hunter?"

"Sixteen."
"Wow. Well good for you," Dean cleared his throat. Erin leaned up against her car. "If you wanted to," Dean's eyes ran over her body, "get out of here for a while, I could..."

"No. No. No. I'm not into to office romances, and when I say romances, I mean one night stands."

"Oh."

"It's nothing against you, just, you guys aren't my type."

"Wait what?" Dean spit out his beer. Erin pushed away from the car, taking a swig of her beer, before walking into the bunker.

"Make of that what you will," she smirked and disappeared inside.

Dean stared after her with raised eyebrows. That was a plot twist. Just when Dean thought he had her figured out, she went ahead a threw a curveball at him. He had just met her this morning, but he was more confused now than he was then. He took a long swig of his beer before following her into the bunker. It was extremely dark inside, except for a small lamp that Kevin was using. He was actually passed out on the table, but Dean didn't bother to wake him. He cleared out a room for the kid, and he never used it. He walked over quietly and flipped the light off. He fumbled his way to his room, but his hand froze on the door handle. A muffled moan rang through the bunker. Dean set his beer on the ground and tried to guess where the noise came from. Another moan. He walked towards the dungeon, and it gradually got louder. He opened it up to see Crowley with his head hanging down. He let out another moan.

"Crowley!" Dean whispered angrily, "Shut up!"

"I'm bored," Crowley threw his head back.

"Surprisingly, I don't pity you," Dean rolled his eyes, his voice dripping in sarcasm.

"You do realize it's awfully plain to not have anyone to talk to."

"That was the point, jackass. Sort of like your own personal Hell."

"Clever, Dean. I'm sure your quick wit gets you everywhere in life."

"Sure helps," he began to turn away, but stopped in his tracks.

"They will come you know. They know that you tried to close them all in. They'll come and get me, and they'll end you," Crowley hissed.

"Okay princess, whatever you say," Dean growled and slammed to door shut. He knew that Crowley was telling the truth though. The demons and the angels both wanted to kill them. A twinge of guilt struck him, realizing that, by default, they would want to kill Erin to for helping them. Something told him that it wasn't right to keep Erin around. She should save herself.

Dean walked back to his room slowly. The day finally had caught up to him. He was somewhat foggy from the beer, but not drunk. His feet dragged and he rested a palm on his door. What was he doing? He was living a nightmare. Not some typical, average man's nightmare, but the nightmare of a hunter, which is so much worse. Dean rested his forehead on the door, letting out an audible sigh.

"Dean?" Sam groaned, his voice thick with sleep.

"Sammy, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Dean turned to face his brother. Bags were visible under his squinted eyes.

"Nah, it's good," Sam rubbed his eyes. "Was Crowley acting up?"

"Just being an ass. Groaning and complaining, as if I actually cared about his well-being."

"It's like we're watching over a kid," Sam chuckled quietly.

"I'll say."

"So, uh, how are you holding up?" Sam sunk down to the floor.

"What do you mean?" Dean sat down as well, resting his head on the wall behind him.

"Today has been pretty," sam searched for the word, "eventful."

"Fine, I guess," Dean shrugged. It was the most passive motion he could think of.

"See, Dean, you say you're fine, but it's always bull."

"I don't know Sammy. I'm thrilled Cas is fine, minus the whole human thing. Crowley is a pain in my ass. I'm worried that those demons already being dead isn't as positive as I wish it was, and yea."

"What about Erin?"

"I think I trust her. I mean she told me some stuff that I think was pretty earnest. I just don't understand her."

"Just because she turned you down?" Sam half-heartedly laughed.

"Not really. Just," Dean sighed, "How is it that she's so positive about it all?"

"She hasn't been through what we've been through."

"There's things she isn't telling us about her past. I think. She told me some pretty screwed up stuff, but she was casual about it, which makes zero sense to me."

"Like what?" Sam sat up a bit.

"She started hunting when she was sixteen. Didn't tell me why, but I assume it doesn't run in the family."

"And you know this how?"

"She told me a bit about her 'trainer' as she called him. Something doesn't seem right with how she talked about him. She told me he was an asshole."

"Why?"

"He taught her everything like it was some kind of," he stared at the ceiling, hoping the right word was up there, "show, I guess. She looks like some intense female spy or whatever. I walked out to give her a beer and she full on pounced on me like a cat. It doesn't seem like how female hunters act."

"Maybe she isn't like them."

"I know she isn't. I tried to make a move on her and she rejected me."

"Shocker there," Sam interrupted.

"Let me finish. She said it was nothing personal. It was us guys in general."

"So you think she swings for the other team?" Sam relaxed again.

"I don't really know. Don't want to assume, but I'd believe it."

"Huh," Sam huffed out. "Well, I guess it's not number one on our list of things to figure out."

"That list is a mile long."

"What do you think did this to me?" Sam motioned towards his body.

"I'm not sure, but we have to find it."

"We also have to kick Metatron's ass."

"And fight off furious demons and pissed off ex-angels."

"And figure out who or what killed those demons."

"Don't you miss it?" Dean sighed, his whole body moving with it.

"Miss what?"

"When it was just some tricky spirit that was our main problem. I know I sure do."

"Oh, believe me, I do. I just figure," Sam made eye contact with Sam, "if we weren't here to do this, then what other damned soul would?"

Dean stared at the floor, contemplating what Sam said. Sam disappeared into his room. He had a point. He wanted a normal life, but someone else would've been here, going through this same crap. According to the angels, Sam and him were basically doomed to deal with this crap before they were even born. That was utterly unfair, but they were stronger. Dean used to think that all of this happened for no reason, and that it was unfair. Bad things like this weren't supposed to happen to good people. It had taken him a while to see that was just some hollow statement people uttered to themselves to justify the world around them. In reality, bad things happened to everyone, but it was all in how you dealt with it, and Dean wasn't handling it well. It was a sickening weight he had to carry with him everywhere he went. It made his bones ache, his joints swell, his brain reel, his heart weak, and most of all, his torn, fragmented, fraying soul hollow with regret, self-loathing, and defeat that he was ready to cave into. Maybe it would be easier that way, to give in, to let everything fall away from him. Everything in his life was drifting apart, trying to take pieces of him with it, and he gripped the ropes tethered to the only things he had left to hold on to, but those ropes were growing thin, and his arms were growing tired, and like all things fragile, those ropes would break, taking the entirety of Dean's soul with them.