Lana sat in the wheelchair and looked out the window as she listened to Jessica talking to the nurses. She was numb to the world, not sure what was real and what was still part of her dream. The one thing she did remember? The man with the jade green eyes, almost the same color as the FBI agent who had come to see her. Were they the same person? But how could that be possible? Lana throught as she watched the rain bead up against the class.

"You ready Lana?" Jessica smiled as she got behind the chair and placed her hands on the handle. "I thought maybe you could stay with me for a few days, you know, until that sling can come off. Does that sound OK?"

"Yeah." Lana breathed as she sat back in the wheelchair as Jessica took them down the hallway. She slid her left hand under her sling and felt something poke her fingers. She slid her hand into the small slit and felt something small. She moved it out from her sling and looked down to see it was a smile business card. The name was written in ink along with a number. Agent Mike Perry, FBI. She felt her heart pound hard against her ribs as she looked at the number. Where on earth did this come from? She swallowed the lump in her throat as she tucked the card back into the sling. As the door slid open to the elevator, Lana knew what she was going to do. She was going to get answers, no matter how much it upset Jessica. She didn't blame Jessica for a being a little overboard, her friend had been there since her grandmother passed away, and she could be a little overprotective.

As Lana was whisked down to the lobby of the hospital, she made up her mind. She was no longer going to be the weak one here. If her little fantasy world taught her anything, it would be that she could be strong.

Dean wasn't sure what woke him up as he slowly slid his hand under his pillow and his fingers slid over the cool metal. His mind was foggy from those damn shots he let that waitress give him. He smacked his lips together as he heard the sound again. Buzzz, Buzzz..

The metallic buzzing was coming from his right and he blindly felt for his phone and brought it to his ear. " 'Ello?" He croaked as he rolled over on his back and placed his hands on his bare chest.

"Ummm...I'm sorry, but this Agen Perry?"

The woman's voice made Dean sit up, ignoring the axe that was currently between his eyes. Screw Tequila, he would never touch that stuff again. "Ye..yes...I'm sorry, this is?" His feet were now out of the tangled sheets and onto the floor. His jeans were sitting on the table, his shirt was over the television and the waitress was MIA.

"L..Lana Lambert...you came to see me in the hospital the other day?"

Dean cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear as he hoped on foot and slid his leg into the denim. "Ye..es Lana. What can I do for you?"

Dean slid his hand into the pocket of his jeans and felt something satiny between his fingers. He slid them out as noticed the purple fabric of panties, the waitress brand. He looked around the room and decided to stuff them in the trash can, piling fast food bags over them.

"I..I was wondering if we could meet somewhere?"

"Uhh..." Dean scratched the back of his head as he looked around the room, trying to find his red and gray shirt. He found it under the bed. He slid it over his body and walked over to the table and grabbed his Gore Tex Boots. "I'm over at the Bella Rosa Inn." Dean grumbled as he looked around the room, taking in the decor. It looked like Cupid had vomited all over the room. The wallpaper was a light shade of pink with red roses etched all over the surface. This was the last time he would let his brother pick the motel.

"There is a diner next door right?"

Dean walked over to the red curtain and slid it back and squinted against the bright sunlight. The Imapla was sitting right in front of him and he noticed the tall form of his brother asleep in the passenger seat. "Yeah, Shari's."

"See you in ten minutes?"

Dean let the curtain fall back in place as he yanked open the motel door and walked up to the window and tapped on it with his knuckle. Sam snorted awake and rubbed his eyes as he noticed Dean standing on the other side, holding a phone to his ear. "Yeah...see you then." He hung up the phone and smiled. "Wakey wakey Sammie...Lana called. She's gonna meet us over at the diner"

Sam let out a sigh as he opened the door and get out a groan as he stretched to his full height. He placed a hands on his lower back feeling his spine pop. "Next time you wanna bring someone home from the bar, I'm gonna make you do it out here."

Over a steaming cup of coffee, Sam watched his brother fidget in the booth across from him. Every few minutes, the leather would squeek under his jeans, let out a huff, check his watch and then look over at the door.

"Dean, will you relax? She'll be here."

"Yeah?" Dean tore his gaze off the door, which made the 10th time he done that. "It's been half an hour Sam. W..what if something happened?"

Sam chuckled and shook his head as he took a sip of his coffee. This was a new side of Dean, worrying about a girl. Sure, his brother had plenty of one night stands, never seeming to look back. However, since Sam rescued him from the Djinn, he noticed his brother was more obsessive. Once or twice, Sam caught Dean searching news clipping at this Lana girl. Sam tried to pry out of his brother what had happened, what he experienced, but he was always met with a gruff voice to just drop it.

"You dolls gonna order something? Or just coffee?"

Sam looked at the red-headed watiress named Betty Joe and slid her his best smile. This was one thing he could never master, that Winchester Smolder, the one that made all the girls swoon. No, that title went to his brother. "Can you just give us ten more minutes?"

Betty Jo huffed at Sam as she flicked her eyes over to Dean who was staring at the door. "He just gonna stare at that door all day?"

Sam slid into the depths of his brown courdery jacket and took out a five dollar bill. "Ten minutes?"

Betty Jo let out a sigh at the tall drink of water giving him those puppy dog eyes. She had to admit, if she was just ten years younger, she'd wear him like a cheap suit. Oh who was she kidding? She'd still do it. "Ten minutes and then I have to turn it over to people who order more than just coffee." She glanced another look at Dean who was still watching the door.

"Dean.." Sam leaned over and flicked him on the hand. "Ten minutes, OK? Then we go. She might have changed her mind."

As if on cue, the door jingled as it was open and she walked in, stepping up to the hostess desk. Sam turned his head to see a very beautiful woman with tan skin. Her dark hair was loose and held back by a pair of sunglasses. She had on a light pink sweater and black skirt, her long legs fashioned into a pair of black ballet shoes. No, she was not his brother's type at all. She seemed to have some class and poise.

She turned her head to the table the waitress was pointing at and Lana felt her heart stop for a beat or two. He was sitting there looking very handsome in that plaid shirt, his dakr hair cut close to his head and his arm draped over the booth. His eyes caught hers and held the gaze for a heartbeat or two, slid her a smile and looked down at the cup in his hand.

"Agen Perry.." Lana approached the table and extended her hand, flicking her eyes over to the taller man sitting across from him.

"Lana," Dean clambered out of the booth as he took her hand. "I would like you to meet my partner, Agent Smith."

Sam could see the confusion on her face as she studied him, her green eyes sweeping over his form. "Yo..you're the one that was there...that found me."

"Yes..yes.." Sam cleared his throat feeling Dean's eyes on hers. "How are you doing?"

Lana chuckled and held up her right arm that was still in the sling. "Aside from a dislocated shoulder, I'm alright."

Sam felt the glare from Dean, feeling it bore a hole into him. He reached into his jacket and took out his wallet. "I..uh..just remembered I have some phone calls to make. Excuse me."

Lana slowly sat into the booth that Sam exited and smiled across at Dean. "Agent Perry.."

He held up his finger as he pointed to the menu. "Can, uh..we get something to eat? Wicked hangover and I need some grease."

Her eyebrows knitted into a V as she noticed his bloodshot eyes. "You drink on the job?"

"Not really on call," Dean huffed as he picked up his mug.

"OK...ten minutes are up," Betty Jo shuffled over to the table and let out a sigh. "Are you ordering?"

Lana handed her the menu and smiled. "Two eggs over medium, hash browns, toast and bacon."

Dean blinked his eyes for a few minutes as Lana spouted off her order. He smiled at Betty Jo as he handed her his menu. "The same."

Lana cleared her throat and awkwardly picked up her coffee cup, wanting to look anywhere but him. "My..uh..friend, Jessica..the one you met at the hospital? Well..she doesn't want me talking to you."

Dean sat down his cup and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "Lana..do you remember what happened to you?"

Lana paused as she looked over to see the watiress was sitting behind the cash wrap, filing her nails. "I..I don't know..bits and pieces." She swept her eyes back over to Dean and noticed he was looking at her. "Jessica told me to stop talking about it, I don't think she believes me. But..."She hesitated as the food was plopped down in front of her and she waited while Dean was given his. "But...it was like this weird...dream..and it seemed so real..like I was really there." When she turned her eyes back on Dean, he was staring at her. "W..what? You think I'm crazy don't you."

Dean held his gaze on her for a couple of seconds, before he looked down at his food. He was trying to collect his thoughts on how to approach this subject. Lana was skittish as it was, but he could tell deep down inside, she wanted answers, no matter how strange it sounded. He leaned forward, reached out his hand and slid his palmo over the top of her left hand. "Lana..I believe you."

Lana looked down at his large hand placed delicatly on top of hers. His knuckles were scared, a few cuts on them, raw and red. The back of his hand shared the same fate. They were the hands of a fighter. "You're not FBI are you?" She flicked her eyes up and stared into them, watching how they went from verly light green to almost dark clovers.

"No..Lana..I'm not. My name is Dean Winchester and me and my brother Sam, are hunters."

She sat back in the booth, taking her hand away from his and shook her head. "When you mean..hunters..you mean..."

Dean glanced over to make sure the waitress was still busy and leaned foward, his voice low. "That thing..that captured you..was a demon."

Lana snorted and shook her head back and forth." No...no..it was a man...demon? There is no such thing."

"Lana," Dean reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a leather bound journal. He sat it down on the table and Lana noticed how full it was. The surface was cracked and as Dean opened it, she noticed the pages were crammed with small writing, new clippings and drawings. "This..this was my father's. Everything that we encountered, he wrote it down. And this.." He opened the book in half and pointed down at the page. "This..this..is what captured you Lana."

Lana looked down at the page and put a shaking hand to her mouth as she read a few lines. "Jessica was right...you are..no..this isn't true..." She slid out of the booth but was quickly stopped when Dean stepped in front of her.

"Lana...give us a bit to explain OK? You know, deep down I am telling you the truth. Listen to that part." He reached into the back of his jeans as he held up his hand. "This is where we are staying. If you listen to that part, then come. If you don't, then that's it. We won't bother you anymore."

Lana looked down at his hands and saw the motel business card. She slid her fingers around it and muttered a good bye as she turned her back on him.