A/N: Sorry for the long delay! I've been busy on vacation and various other personal things. This is the longest chapter in this series so far. I'm sorry if you don't like long chapters. But I honestly didn't know where to break the story for the next chapter. I want to thank (and give cookies to) PlatinumRoseLady, carolinesayer, and x. lizzy .x for the reviews on the last chapter. As always, I'm glad to hear if you like where the story is going or if I've messed up. Okay, maybe not so much the last part (haha). I've been thinking about making a playlist for this story. I'm not sure yet though. Read and review!

Hurt Like Mine

Becky sat atop the roof of the motel with a bottle of beer in her left hand; to drown out her misery. She took a swig and put the beer back down by her side as she stared out at the cars passing by the motel. Her chestnut eyes were filled to the brim with tears and with every blink another would run down her rosy cheek.

"I thought I'd find you up here," Sam said as he strode up behind her. He took a seat beside her just as she downed another sip. He took note of the beer and followed her gaze out to the highway, "I'm sorry about your friends."

She quickly wiped her cheeks from the reminiscent tears, "I've had a real lovely week, huh?" She bit her lower lip in frustration and to keep her voice from cracking.

Sam didn't say anything as he looked down at his lap, with his hands planted in his pockets.

Feeling as though she may have hurt his feelings she turned to look at him with sincerity, "thanks." She downed another swig of her beer. Then she tilted the bottle to him to offer him a sip. He shook his head no before his lips turned into a polite, yet a some what awkward smile.

They sat in silence for awhile until she spoke again. "You know the funny thing? I don't even like beer." She chuckled to herself as she reared back and threw the bottle of beer over the edge of the building. The sound of glass breaking on impact echoed as it scattered on the pavement below.

"We're going to find out what's doing this. We are going to stop it."

"Sam, the great optimistic one." She nodded in agreement before she started back, "you know what they told me when," she paused for a moment as she collected herself. "When my parents died, they promised me that the man responsible would be brought to justice. I'd actually have the chance to see him behind bars for what he did."

"They were coming back from a concert late at night when it happened. They told me that he had been drinking and swerving all over the road when he met my parents. My parents swerved to avoid hitting him head on but he ended up clipping the end of their vehicle. Their car flipped several times before it finally stopped. His car was okay enough to make a run for it. He made no effort to help my parents." She cleared her throat, "A few miserable weeks later they found him near a dumpster in an alley, dead of an overdose."

Sam exhaled his breath and sat uncomfortably on the concrete slab as he watched her.

She clenched her fists tightly in her lap, "I hated him so much for doing this to me. He ruined my life."

Sam remained silent and perfectly still as she continued, "I spent nine years in foster care going home to home. No one seemed to want to adopt some one like me because I came with a lot of baggage. So, one day, when my foster parents were away at work and when they thought I was at school, I ran away to make it on my own. Three years ago I came here and fell in love with the town and the people in it. I finally felt like I actually belonged somewhere. And now," she paused again. "I have nothing again. So, Sam, even if you get this thing, it won't change anything it won't bring them back. I'll just have to start over, again."

"I'm sorry, it won't bring them back, no, but at least it'll be over. Revenge doesn't get you anywhere, trust me."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience," she looked over at his stern composure.

"Yeah, my mother died protecting me when I was six months old. It's a long messed up story."

"And," she hesitated a bit before quietly asking, "what about your father?"

"He died several months ago."

"Did you get the asshole that did it?"

"Yes," was all he could muster to say. There was a moment of silence before he looked over at her. "We're trying to help you, but we need you to be honest with us. Tell us everything or we can't do our job."

"I have been honest," she stood as if she was offended by his comment. She ran her fingers through her hair trying to ease her frustration from his accusation.

"What is Aaryan?" he said sternly, "Caroline said it before she died. What does it mean, Becky?"

"I don't know," Becky shook her head.

"It seemed pretty important to her to tell you before she died." Sam pointed out, "It's not in the books or any of the other research we've done."

"My sister, okay?" She finally said with a sigh as she sat on the ledge of the motel's roof. She looked over the edge of the building as she spoke, "She's not at fault, though. She's in trouble with the law so I couldn't tell anyone that she was here. I have no idea why Caroline would say her name. I've only mentioned her a few times. Plus, Aaryan doesn't even know her and she was only stopping by for some cash. She skipped town that day you visited my house."

"So that's who you were talking to?" Sam asked curiously.

Becky shook her head in confusion, "Talking to?"

"Never mind," Sam dismissed, "was your sister in foster care with you?"

"We were together for a while, then, when we left our foster family we split up. She got into drugs pretty heavily and I haven't seen her much since that day she showed up at my house. You'd think something like losing the people you love would bring us closer, but if anything, it drew us further apart."

"I know what you mean."

"Wait, she has a sister?! And we're just finding that out now?" Dean sat down beside his brother furious. "That would've been helpful about, oh, a few days ago? We should be talking to this sister. I don't like the idea of Becky leaving out details. She does it too damn much."

Sam sat on the top of one of the old wooden picnic tables that sat behind the motel. They had left Becky alone in the room as she attempted to sleep, so they could talk about their plan of action.

"Calm down, geez, the girl was scared that her sister was going to get caught by the police, Dean. Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same for me."

"Well," he hesitated before answering; oh how he hated when Sam proved him wrong. "Look, I see your point. But we're not the police and we're trying to help her. Her friend called out her name just when she was about to kick the bucket. Doesn't that sound a little conspicuous to you?"

"She felt her sister was, I don't know, irrelevant I guess? I'm not saying you don't have any merit in what you're saying. I agree completely. But, she said her sister skipped town Dean."

"And you believe her because she's been Miss Truthful the whole entire time?" Dean shook his head, "it won't hurt to do a bit of research. See what she's been charged with that seems so bad she's running away."

"'Seems so bad,' Dean do you not remember Prison? Not the happiest place on earth." He paused for a second, "plus she said her sister was a heavy drug user that's probably the case."

"Well, let's just make sure she's telling us the truth this time." Dean laughed to himself, "When have I ever heard you turn down research, Sammy? It's your first love. "

Sam rolled his eyes, "Point well taken."

Dean leaned up and smacked his brother in the back of the head, "then stop twittling around and let's get to it."

They headed back to the room and noted Becky still peacefully laying in Dean's bed wrapped up in the old 70s style bed sheets. Dean stopped to stare at her bare leg that had escaped the covers. It wasn't until he heard a loud sigh that she turned over on her side snuggling closer to the pillow laid beside her.

Dean grabbed the chair from the other side of the table and sat beside his brother who was grabbing his laptop from his case. Sam placed it on the table and tried to adjust it so they could both view it. Only it didn't budge, it was as if the bottom was glued to the mahogany table. It wasn't until after Sam lifted the laptop that he noticed a chewed up piece of pink gum planted on the bottom. He looked over at his brother who had just plopped a piece of gum into his mouth while he attended to his shoes.

"Dean, did you use my computer today?"

"No, why do you say that?" He asked as he briefly looked up from his shoe; he tossed it to the side on to the floor.

Matter-of-factly, "Someone, who was chewing gum, left it on the bottom of my computer."

"Don't know who that'd be," he said with a coy smirk.

"Dean, I told you not to mess with my computer."

"Well, Sammy, I told you not to mess with my car," was Dean's counter attack.

With a groan Sam tried his best to remove the gum from the bottom of his laptop. Only to have it stick to his fingers in long messy strings. "Ugh, you're so disgusting."

"Why are you such a girl?"

Sam scoffed before he turned his attention back to the computer. When he rid the laptop and his fingers of the mess he began to type. His first stop was to search on the police database for the state of Michigan; which came with empty results.

"Perhaps she is using a different name?" Dean suggested.

"What are we looking up?" Becky, who was now sitting up on the bed rubbing the back of her head asked. She was wearing one of Dean's plaid shirts as a night gown; buttoned in the middle.

Dean licked his lips before speaking, "Sam, here, was wanting to look up some porn before going to bed, helps him sleep better."

"Oh," then a thought visibly kicked in, "And you? What were you doing?"

"Uhm, I was uh." He struggled to think of anything on the top of his head. A girl in his shirt and not much else had that effect on him.

"Good one, Dean." Sam mumbled under his breath.

Becky's eyes widened, "oh, sorry I asked."

"No, he's joking, Becky." Sam quickly answered her with the first thought that popped in his head, "we were trying to look up possible results for demons that could potentially age the life out of someone."

"Cheerful subject," she replied as she stepped out of Dean's bed. "So do you think that's what happened to Gabe?"

"Well the only mythological thing that I've heard that would result in bodies aging is someone or thing taking souls."

Dean looked over at his brother surprised that he actually had an alibi, "I never thought of that."

"It's just a theory so far."

"Well, when Caroline passed away, she wasn't aged anymore than before," Becky offered.

Dean piped in, "If this is some thing stealing souls I would imagine they would want someone young."

"So what's our next step?" She asked.

"In the morning we start more research," Sam suggested.

"Sounds like a plan." Becky turned to Dean and pointed to his shirt, "I hope you don't mind. I had nothing else to wear and it was crumbled up on the floor."

"No, that's fine." Dean said as he got up and headed to the couch.

"I can take the couch. You were nice enough to offer it to me while you were gone."

Dean shook his head no, "uhm, that's okay. I'll take the couch you've had a pretty rough day."

Becky stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed watching Dean attempt to get comfortable on the dingy brown couch. She turned and headed back to the bed, taking a seat, and then climbing under the covers. Before turning the light off she whispered, "Thanks."