Serena slid into her leather jacket and adjusted her hair, pausing to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She wondered if those she had lost would even recognize her anymore.

Gone was the carefree Serena of the past in her place was a weary survivor. She was stronger and leaner, her clothes were darker, and she always had her guard up. Her hair was almost always tied back, her eyes didn't sparkle, and her smiles didn't light up her face. No more giggling and laughing. There was no joy left in her, no reason to be joyful.

She rolled up the sleeves of the leather jacket she always wore. It had been Nate's and she kept a piece of each of them with her. Chuck's scarf, Blair's ruby ring, and Nate's jacket a way to honor them, a way to remember them. There were no headstones, no memorial plaza to visit. There hadn't been anyone left, New York was a lost city.

The night air was crisp as she left her building. She had a two-hour drive in front of her and little time to waste. Dean would be at the Rusty Horseshoe tonight and it was her chance.

She called Jo as she eased the BMW out of its spot. Some banker had left the keys in the ignition and Serena didn't see the point in wasting a perfectly good car.

"Jo, it's Serena. Yeah I'm on my way." Jo and her mother, Ellen, had arrived in New York a month after the massacre. Hunters were the only ones who lived here now and the Harvelle women wanted to help. Jo had found Serena huddled in an alleyway, starving and grief stricken. Jo was the one who had told her about Dean.

"You won't talk me out of it, I've made up my mind." Serena said into the phone. Two months after losing everyone she ever loved and everything she had ever known Serena had made up her mind. Vengeance would be hers; it was the only thing keeping her going. She would find the people responsible and she would kill them or die trying. Either option would do.

"I don't care if he won't want to help me. I'll make him." One night after they had closed the bar Serena had found Jo's copies of the Winchester books. She had read them all, twice. She had heard their names before, whispers in a dark corner. They were the best hunters left, heroes in these darkest of times. The Winchesters were her best chance at vengeance.

Jo had been skeptical, it seemed as if there was something about Winchesters that made her squeamish but Serena had been persistent. Finally the other girl had agreed to make a call or two, find out where the boys were. She had tracked Dean down; found out he was hunting a shape shifter two hours from the city. Sam hadn't been seen in months, but the brothers were never far apart.

"Just tell me how to spot him." Serena snapped at her friend. Jo had been trying for days to talk her out of her mission. Vengeance was stupid, it won't bring them back. Dean and Sam aren't whom they used to be, who they are in the books. You need more training. The reasons why not had gone on and on but none of them could outweigh the single reason why.

"Tall, built, close-cropped brown hair, green eyes, leather jacket, t-shirt, and jeans." Serena repeated. "Anything else? Cocky, arrogant, rude, a pig. Is that really relevant? Yeah okay I'll call you tomorrow. Tell your mom I said hi. I don't care if she's mad at me. Bye Jo." Serena hung up the phone and focused on the road, even though if it was deserted.

The drive was uneventful and Serena arrived at the Horseshoe in record time. She slid out of the car and smoothed down the dress she had chosen especially for this occasion. It was a black one shoulder Rag & Bone dress that clung to her curves. Her leather jacket clashed with the smooth fabric of the dress so she folded it neatly and placed it in the trunk, along with the scarf. She needed to be strong, play a different part then broken girl haunted by the past. She kept on the ruby ring, she needed to be strong and keep her eyes on the prize like Blair.

The bar was rustic, to say the least but with a certain small town charm. Serena stuck out like a sore thumb but that was her plan. She needed to be noticeable. A quick scan of the bar and she spotted her target. Dean was sitting alone at the bar, nursing a beer, and flirting with a waitress.

Serena channeled ever ounce of Georgina's man trapping, attention needing teachings as she strode to the bar. Hips swinging, boobs jiggling, hair flipped back, a knockout. Every eye in the bar was trained on her including his.

"Double Scotch, no ice." She told the bartender as she slid onto the nearest stool, making sure her dress rode up her thigh just enough. The waitress seemed to notice Dean's attention had shifted because she quickly flitted away to tend to her tables. Serena offered him a smile before taking a slow sip of her Scotch. The slow burn as it slid down her throat was like an old friend.

"Mind if I join you?" A deep voice to her left asked and Serena turned to see Dean. He was a cad just like Jo promised, two could play this game.

"Free country." She replied shrugging and taking another sip.

"Another one for the lady." Dean told the bartender as he settled down next to her. "You're not from around here?"

"Neither are you." She replied sipping on her new drink. Remembering that she had to take it slow getting drunk was not going to help.

"Observant. I like it. I'm Michael Scott." He extended a hand and she shook it lightly.

"Rachel Berry." If he was going to lie then so would she. Besides pretending to be someone else sometimes made it a little easier to be in a bar flirting when Nate was…

"You look beautiful tonight Rachel." He said offering her a charming smile but Serena noticed that it never reached his eyes; they were full of pain.

"Flattery is overrated, Michael." She replied with a snort.

"So is this bar but we're still here."

"I think it's rather quaint."

"Whatever floats your boat sister."

As he took another swig of beer Serena studied his features. He was handsome; his features were chiseled and masculine. It was obvious he had a nice body from his almost too tight t-shirt. But there seemed to be an edge, a harshness to him that made him almost threatening. She'd gotten good at reading people in the last few years.

"Join me for some air?" Serena asked sweetly giving him a seductive smile.

"My pleasure Rachel." He replied slapping some money on the bar and following her out the door. Serena was unsure of what to do next. She could string him along a little longer, get invited back to his hotel room, and then confront him but they would be alone and she would be stranded. It was better to strike now.

"So, Rachel." He said moving in closer when they reached his car, the Infamous Impala.

"Dean, cut the crap." Serena said and his face instantly moved into an impenetrable mask.

"Who the fuck are you and how do you know my name?" He demanded eyes narrow and his gaze menacing. "Answer me now or my little friend here will make it a moot point."

Serena felt the gun poke her in the stomach and took a loud gulp. Obviously this was not going to be as easy as she had hoped.