A/N: Alright, I changed around the last chapter because there was a big mistake in it. My deepest apologies for that! Thanks for the review azab! I hope that this chapter is received better than the last. This is by far the longest chapter in the story thus far. Read & reviews make me do a happy dance. Surely, you wouldn't deprive me of that! (hehe).

Vulnerable

"What do we do now?" She inquired as she sat impatiently; she drummed her fingers on her legs as she rode in the passenger seat of the Chevy Impala. They were headed back to the Red Roof motel to retrieve Sam and potentially work through the research Sam had dug up.

Dean looked down at her pale fingers, the tips were painted a rosy pink, and then changed his gaze back up to her face, "First, we find my brother, then your friend from the diner." He exchanged looks with her before facing the road in front of him. It was still dark outside, roughly eleven thirty the last time he had checked the stereo, so the roads were fairly empty except for the fog.

"I've known her for three years, yeah, given that's not very long; she doesn't seem like the black magic type."

"You can't base a lot of things on the first time you meet someone," came a dry reply from Dean who was just beginning to run his fingers through his short chestnut hair.

She cocked an eyebrow up at his comment, "Well, I think--thought I knew her pretty well." She studied him over for a brief moment, noting his silence, "I've just never thought she'd be into that kind of thing."

Dean didn't respond to her comment as he kept his eyes fixated in front of him, his hands firmly planted on the wheel. Finally he spoke softly, "Listen, we told you that we'd help find out what happened to your friend, Gabe. It might change your perspective on a lot of things."

"What a great job to have, huh?" Becky responded with a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Anyway, I guess she was protecting me because she considered me like her daughter. It was a few months after she died that I showed up in town asking for a job at the diner. We have that common bond of losing someone, I guess as morbid as that sounds, she told me that I even looked like her and that she wanted to help me. So that's why she let me stay in her daughter's home. At first I thought it was a bit odd, but she was so," she paused to search for the right word, "persistent and I didn't have anywhere to go."

Dean glanced at her from the corner of his eye before clearing his throat ready to speak, "I'm sorry to hear about your parents. She told us what happened."

"Yeah, well," she could feel the tears start to well up in her eyes as she swallowed hard to push the lump back down her throat.

"I know what it's like to lose the people closest to you," he said in a low mumble to himself; just as he pulled into the Red Roof motel parking lot. He put the car in park and turned off the ignition, "I've seen some pretty messed up things in my life. The world's not a happy place full of people dancing and singing ABBA songs, thank God." He shook his head as he continued, "things like that, doesn't exist, the only thing that exists is pain, suffering, and secrets."

"Yeah, that's a bleak way of putting it," was all she said in response as she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "What is it they say? What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

Dean sat there for a moment soaking up her comment before getting out of the car and slamming the door shut.

She opened the door to the passenger side and stepped out on to the cold grey pavement. Her eyes took in the motel in front of her, which she passed nearly everyday on her way to work; she had never truly noticed it before. She was sure it was the perfect place to harbor some sort of nasty disease.

Becky sighed as she made an adjustment to her blue denim jacket; then followed Dean towards their room door. She stood behind him, turned around, and watched as cars passed by on the highway.

The motel manager walked by with an overly cheerful smile and a matching wave that should only be reserved for mornings, "Good evening, Mr. Young, coming in late are we? How is you brother, James?"

Dean smiled politely but was obviously annoyed by the man's intrusive question, "oh yah know, late night and he's doing just fine, thanks for asking,"

The manager fixated his intense blue eyes on Becky. His eyes studied her body up and down breathing in every curve of her body, and then he turned back to Dean. With a nod and a suggestive wink, "have good one."

They both watched as he headed back to the manager's front desk in the small building located in the middle of the parking lot. The vacancy light in the front of the motel was flashing on and off due to faulty light bulbs. With every step that the man took it would illuminate his bald head.

"James young, huh? Is someone a Styx fan?"

Dean looked back and over his shoulder at Becky as he turned the key to enter the room, "you know your music, impressive. You'd be surprised at how many people don't pick up on the names."

Sam was sound asleep, accompanied by a massive puddle of drool, at the table with his head resting against the pile of books. Dean walked over and gave him a hard slap on the back of his head before sitting down, "Sammy! Wake up!"

Becky crossed the threshold and quietly shut the door behind her. She stood for awhile in the dark dusty room as she wasn't quite sure where the safest place to sit was. She hadn't expected much given the outside condition of the motel. The room was actually tidy except for the batch of clothes that were wadded up on the bed. She had to push them aside before she could take a seat.

"Dean," Sam groaned in response while he sat up and started to rub the area of the brutal slap. He winced when he hit the tender spot, "ow!"

"So how is the research coming along, Sammy? Good, did you find anything?" The sarcastic tone of Dean's voice caused a low grumble from his brother, "I've been calling you for the past hour; here I was worried something had happened to you. Turns out you were actually sleeping."

Sam ignored his brother's comments like he always did when he got his sarcastic smart ass tone, "Did you find anything on, Becky?"

Dean pointed to Becky who had moved to lie back on the bed with her elbows propping her up. She was mesmerized by the television until she felt them staring. She forced a pleasant smile and then averted her attention back to the television.

"Looks like I was a bit more successful than you were. So, you found out," he paused shaking his head in the process as well, "nothing? I'm assuming, judging by the amount of drool that's collected on your chin?"

Sam rubbed his chin clean of the evidence against him, "Well, actually, I did find one thing." Sam pushed the book over to his brother so he could read it himself he pointed to the underlined section that read: Protection Talisman & Symbols.

"The symbol was used by women, in the early 18th century, to ward off evil spirits that would visit their children late at night."

"Wait, like the boogey man?" Becky chimed in as she scooted off the bed to take a closer look at the photo.

"Yeah, well sorta, it's more like what the Egyptians used, yah know, the Eye of Horus? They used it for protection in the afterlife as well as to ward off evil."

"So the question now is: what was this thing after?"

"I guess the only way to find out is to go meet with Caroline," Sam said as he turned to look up at Becky. "Hopefully she'll know."

"She should be at home," piped in Becky.

They rolled up to Caroline's home on Parker street which was in the middle of town. It was a quaint little house with a white picket fince that wrapped around the front yard. The sidewalk was adorned by daisies that lead to the front door.

"Do you think she's awake?" Sam asked before turning around in his seat to see Becky's reply.

"It looks like someone's awake," Dean noted as he pointed up to the window that just illuminated through the window. The only light in the house that was on was coming from the front room.

"She lives by herself," Becky responded as she began to remove her denim jacket from her arms to accomadate the unusal hot weather.

Dean was the first one out of the car; he lead the way to the front door with Becky on his right side and Sam following behind.

Dean extended his arm out and knocked gently on the white door waiting for a reply. He waited a moment before knocking again.

Becky leaned in towards the door and spoke, "Caroline, it's me Becky, can you open the door I need to talk to you. It's about Gabe."

"No! You get away!" She screamed from behind the door.

"Caroline, it's okay, we know what you've been doing. I have a couple of friends here with me that are offering to help. It's okay, I promise you. You know I wouldn't come to you unless it was important."

"I don't want your help, get out of here!"

Becky shook her head in mere confusion, "I don't know why she's acting like this."

From behind the door they could hear Caroline begin to chant loudly. It stopped abruptly, followed by a loud collapsing thump on the hardwood floor.

"Caroline!?" Becky screamed into the wooden door as she begin to pound her fists.

"Becky," Sam said as he pointed to Becky's upper arm that was gradually developing the intricate protection symbol over her pale skin.

Becky leisurely looked up from the fresh symbol straight into Sam's eyes. She turned back to the door, banging harder knowing what that must mean for her friend, "Caroline!?"

"Stand back," Dean reared back and kicked his foot into the door cracking the paneling. The door swung back into the wall and revealed Caroline slumped over onto the floor.

Dean took off as soon as the door was open. He withdrew his colt and began to search through the nearby rooms to see if there was anyone else in the house.

Sam stayed positioned behind Becky watching her console her dying friend.

Dean returned and joined his brother's side, "There's no one here but it looks like they came in through the back."

Caroline's body was starting to become still as she mustered all the energy she had left to look Becky in the eyes. Becky went to her side to craddle her hand in her own as she began to weep for her fallen friend.

"Aaryan," she whispered with her last breath.

A/N: I'm hoping to have this story done by the end of this month or at least by the first week in July. But, you know how life is.