Hey, sorry for the wait I've just been really busy, I went abroad to so some field work for my degree. I don't really like this chapter but I felt the need to write something.

Chapter 2

I wasn't in the mood to eat anything after being alone with my head for the past three hours so I went back to the Library, there was an hour till closing which was enough time to find out where Jones had been buried. Glancing at the clock, which read six o'clock, I headed into the library.

It took almost the whole hour to find where Jones was buried, as I pulled out of the library parking lot, I realised I had to act fast to salt and burn the bones, otherwise Sam and Dean would no doubt come to do exactly the same thing when they realised I'd had no intention of meeting them at that bar.

This was one of the worst parts of the job, having to dig up the grave, it was hard work and tiring both physically and emotionally. This was someone's body, where on earth was the respect? Lord knows how long I had been digging, it was two or maybe it was three feet down when the rain began. Great, my shoes were now ruined; thank god they were my hiking boots so they'd easily clean up. I climbed out of the hole and rummaged in my back pack for my rain coat, I shrugged it on and put the hood up, although it didn't do a very good job of keeping my hair dry, the rain was just too heavy. Nevertheless, I ploughed on shovelling mud after mud out of the hole despite the rain slowing me down.

I sighed for what must be the umpteenth time, my hands were like ice and my whole body was shivering. Again I jammed my spade into the mud and heaved it out into the small pile I'd created. "Need a hand?" I jumped out of my skin as I heard those that voice. Dean. I looked up and met the eyes of Sam and Dean, well this was awkward.

Dean jumped down into the hole immediately digging at twice the speed I was, Sam held his hand out for me, I was reluctant to take his hand. Why should I just let these two come in and take over, I should be doing this by myself. I turned away and carried on digging, maybe they would get the message. Unfortunately that was not the case. I was cold, weak and shivering despite my stubbornness. Dean groaned and slammed his spade into the dirt and turned to me, "give me that!" He snatched the spade from my hands, which took me by surprise; I just stood there open mouthed.

"G-g-g-give i-i-it b-b-back-k-k," I demanded through chattering teeth.

"Sorry but no can do," Dean replied.

"Bastard," I muttered, Sam laughed from above.

"Alice?" Sam had his hand out again, his voice soft. Reluctantly I took his hand and let him pull me out of the mud pit. I muttered a thanks. Sam leapt into the hole and joined Dean in digging; I on the other hand folded my arms across my chest in attempt to keep warm. Perhaps November wasn't the greatest month for this sort of thing.

It took the pair of them no time at all to reach the coffin and with a stab of the spade they managed to break the wooden lid. They both climbed out, as muddy and wet as I was. Dean squirted on lighter fluid whilst Sam shook a tin of salt into the coffin and then handed me a packet of matches. I just stared at him.

"Well go on then, let's get rid of this son of a bitch already," Dean prompted.

My hands still shaking I fumbled with the first match but it snapped, the second well, I couldn't keep my hand still long enough for it to light before the rain soaked it, I cursed under my breath and tried again still I had no luck. I felt my eyes begin to prickle. Oh great, now I was crying over a stupid match that I didn't even have the strength to light. I couldn't even light a match for the sake of saving other families from death.

"Here, let me," Sam reached out to the matches but I shook my head, they weren't going to take this from me. A lone tear fell down my cheek hidden amongst the rain which splattered my face.

I took a deep breath and attempted to steady my shivering and finally the match lit, I threw into the hole and watched the flames ignite. The heat was a welcoming relief.

As the flames died out the unwelcome cold returned making every bone in my body ache from shivering. It took Sam and Dean no time at all to fill in the hole and wordlessly I picked up my bag and spade and left for my truck.

"Alice!" I could hear Sam calling after me but it was no use, I wasn't going to stop for him. I needed to get as far away from this town as possible and get my head in order. I flung my rucksack into the back of the truck and fastened a plastic sheet over the top to keep the rain out, I then reached for my door but a hand stopped me from opening it. Sam's hand to be precise. "You can't drive in that state," his voice was sympathetic in my ear.

"I can," my voice came out quiet and shaky.

I heard him sigh, turning to face him I realised how close he actually was. "Let me drive you back to your motel at least so I know that you're safe," I bit my lip as his eyes stared intently into mine. I knew that Sam was right, I wouldn't be able to drive safely like this, and I guess I just wasn't used to someone caring.

"Okay," I finally mumbled in reply and I walked around the car and slipped into the passenger seat. As soon as the door was shut I pulled of my raincoat and flung it on the back seat and then reached for the dial for the heater on the truck. With hands like ice I wiped away the rain and tears from my face and realised how red and puffy my eyes were. Great.

I risked a glance to the side to watch Sam driving, his hair was stuck to face which I might add was covered in dirt, all in all he still looked gorgeous. Sam turned his head slightly and his eyes wandered to mine, I had to turn my head sharply so he wouldn't know I was watching him, despite forcing myself to gaze unwillingly at the road I still saw a slight smile creep onto his face. The result of this, my cheeks burned red, wow I was such a child. This happened several times, we'd both catch each other looking at the other. It was stupid. Eventually I gave up and fixed my eyes on the scenery blurring passed the window.

I looked to the other window as I heard the indicator flick on, "this isn't my motel," I pointed out.

"I know but you looked like you could do with a cup of coffee," Sam switched the engine off in the car park of a diner.

"Yeah nothing like a cup of good old truck stop coffee," I replied dryly making Sam laugh.

So now I found myself sat on an uncomfortable cream upholstered seat in a dingy truck stop, sat opposite Sam with nothing but a greasy grey table between us. "You didn't come and meet us," Sam broke the awful silence that had fallen upon us since we left my truck.

"I know," I replied, clearly not wanting to talk but that didn't seem to stop Sam.

"Why not?" he pressed. I knew I would have to answer but for some reason it didn't stop me from stalling.

I picked up my coffee and swilled it in my cup and sipped a mouthful and another one and one more after that. Finally, I realised it was no use so I was just going to tell Sam the truth. And here it goes, "I didn't want your help, I didn't want to admit I needed it, this whole thing has been sort of personal. Those families that died, I couldn't allow it to happen again. I've seen one too many families suffer." So there it is and I said way more than what I intended. A simple, 'I don't need anyone's help' would have been enough. Because I let my mouth run away with me I was now open to a whole range of questions that I didn't want to answer, they were too painful.

"You're family?" yep, to be about right, Sam had an inquisitive mind, just my luck.

"My family," I answered. Lets be honest, I wasn't going to willingly offer anymore.

"What happened to them?" Sam's voice was quiet as his blue eyes locked onto mine. How could I be so cold to him, he had just helped me out. This cup of coffee had done wanders to warm me up, well for the most part. The damp clothes weren't helping but at lest my teeth had stopped chattering and my hands had warmed up considerably.

I was silent for a while as I stared into the brown liquid in my chipped mug. Try as I might I would never forget that night but I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about it to anyone, I still had the notion that my problems were my problems and no one else's. Finally I went with yet another short response, which I felt was unfair to Sam after all it was only human nature to ask questions, "they died." Yep definitely a conversation killer there.

"I'm sorry," I looked up at Sam to see what his response was but it seems that it was now his turn to stare at the coffee. Who could have thought coffee would be so interesting. I let my eyes wander to my coffee also, and chewed my lip as I relived the events of that night in my mind. "What happened?" Sam asked, looking up from his mug.

"I don't want to talk about it, maybe some other time," I replied, I knew full well that there would never be another time. After tonight I would never see him again so why did it matter to him.

Sam smiled slightly, "some other time then."

"Some other time," I muttered. We drunk up silently and in no time, I had said good bye to Sam and was sat in my motel room, still relatively damp. It seemed strange that I had spent time with someone tonight; it was actually a nice feeling. My lifestyle meant I didn't have friends anymore, so some social contact was nice. Sam had insisted that I have his number so that if I had any trouble on the road I could call him and he and Dean would be able to help. Naturally, I insisted that I wouldn't need any help but I still thanked him anyway.

After a hot shower and a decent nights sleep I was ready for the road again, glad to be rid of that stupid town. I'd never see Sam or his brother again and that was fine. It was part of my life, being alone. Hopefully my next job would be much easier, less social hassle.

Sometimes I hated being alone, I hated this life, in fact scrap that, lets go with despise or maybe even detest. My college degree no longer mattered. All that matters is that I survive from one day to the next. Deep down I know that my parents would have wished for me to continue my life and be happy and safe. But I couldn't do that, I couldn't just forget everything and move on, instead I let it take over my life.

By dawn the following morning I had pulled out of the motel car park leaving Sheffield behind. Where was I going? I had no idea, well at least not at the moment.