Chapter 2

Dean woke up early that morning groaning. He obviously hadn't gotten enough sleep with all those nightmares last night. He had been seeing Clara Jennings in his dreams for months now, so when he got out of bed to see her standing in the doorway of their motel he fell to the floor.

"Jesus!" he exclaimed, he scrambled to his feet. Clara frowned.

"I really hate frightening people." She said quietly. Dean nodded his head.

"Yeah, well I doubt they like being frightened." He said sternly. Her mouth tensed as she looked at him. He noticed the hurt look on her face.

"I'm sorry, That was an asshole move. I just… I've been having these nightmares, I figured last night was just another scare." He said, walking to the bathroom to throw water in his face.

"Oh…" she said. She began to twirl her finger in her hair. Dean closed the bathroom door and turned on the shower. He undressed and hopped in, the feeling of hot water hitting his skin melted away the inner cold he was feeling inside. He threw shampoo into his hair and rinsed it out, commenting in his mind how much easier his shower routine must be compared to Sam's.

"Dean?" Clara called, and Dean flinched, almost slipping.

"Clara what is it?" he asked harshly. Clara stayed quiet for a moment, and Dean wondered if she'd left. He went back to rinsing out his hair when cold air floated into the shower curtain.

"You consider a dream about me a nightmare?" She asked quietly, her sweet voice barely audible through the sound of splashing water, but Dean had heard her. He wasn't sure what to say to her, considering he didn't think seeing her in his dreams was a nightmare. He actually enjoyed seeing her in his dreams, because when he dreamt about Clara she was alive and healthy. He couldn't get her out of his mind since he had met Emma Dowle and she handed him a photo of her sister. Clara was beautiful and vibrant, and Dean was dark and bitter. He remembered vividly the feeling of her photo between his fingers, wondering if her skin was possibly as soft as the glossy paper.

"Dean?" she asked, her voice like music in his ears. He sighed and pulled back the curtain.

"No, I don't consider seeing you in my dreams a nightmare." He said. He kicked himself in his mind for not thinking of something a little more witty or funny. He always wondered what her laugh sounded like. He looked down at his feet, wiggled his toes and sighed again. He's finally genuinely interested in a woman, and she's dead. He'd never feel her wiggly toes in his bed.

He turned off the water and grabbed his towel and pulled it into the shower with him. He expected to see her still in the bathroom but she was gone. He walked out of the bathroom and grabbed his clothing and got dressed. Sam opened the door and Clara appeared behind him.

"New rule Clara, you can't just go poofing around here, let me know where you're going." He said like an over protective dad. He instantly regretted his words. She nodded and looked over at Sam.

"Why? It's not like anything can happen to her, she's already dead." Sam said, setting down the coffee he had in his hand. Dean looked back at Clara, her eyes sunken and sad. Dean was kind of relieved Sam was insensitive too. Now he didn't look like such a tool. Clara smiled but he could tell she was hurt.

"We're sorry Clara." Dean said, and Sam nodded in agreement. She smiled again and nodded back.

"Get packed, we've got to get going." Dean said, throwing his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door. He threw his bag in the trunk of the Impala and walked back into the room. Clara sat in front of the coffee Sam set on the table and sniffed it.

"Oh my God I wish I could drink this…" she said filling her nostrils with the scent. Sam laughed.

"I bet you'd like to take part in a lot of things." He said throwing the rest of his clothes in his bag.

"Oh my gosh I'd love a cheeseburger. Or a pedicure." She said, her face bent down to the coffee. Sam chuckled and zipped up his bag and walked out to the car. Dean watched her as she stared at the coffee as if it was gold. He wondered what it was like to be dead, having never sat long enough to talk to a ghost. Dean sat down across from her on the bed and looked up at her, she had a look of wonder on her face that made him smile.

"What is it like?" He asked her, wondering if he made the wrong choice in asking her. He was relieved to see a smile creep onto her face.

"Being dead?" she asked. She floated over to sit next to him on the bed. He turned to look at her, but the sun shining through the open door sent a glare through her silhouette, and all he could see was a ripple in the air. Dean nodded, not sure where to look so he looked down at his knees.

"Being dead and going to heaven are two different things. All I can say is being dead and stuck here is like having an itch you can't scratch. I thirst for things yet I can never drink them. I can't eat my favorite foods, I can't hug my favorite people. The only thing I still have is sight, smell and sound… but it really doesn't matter that you can see food if you can't taste it." She said, her face rippling the air. Dean couldn't tell if she was smiling or look sad. To his relief she got up and walked over to small table the coffee sat on. She looked sullen but not as sad as she should look. She almost looked content.

"That's rough." He said, not knowing what else to say. She looked back at him and smiled a little.

"Tell me about it, I haven't an orgasm in 4 years…" she said and Dean couldn't help but chuckle.

"Now that is rough." He said and they both smiled at each other.

What started as a warm moment between them turned into an awkward one, and when Sam ran in to inform them he was ready to go, they were both happy to get up and go to the car. Outside Clara was invisible; all that a person could detect was a small ripple in the air, much like how heat looks when it rises from hot asphalt. Dean and Sam both got into the car, and had to ask if Clara had joined them.

Their ride was long and tiring, Dean did his best to stay awake while Sam slept most of the way. They didn't talk much, only enough to inform her what they were searching for. A week ago, 3 women had gone missing, and one was found dead with two puncture wounds on her neck. Dean was suspecting vampires, and began to feel uneasy the closer they got. They would have to stop in West Virginia on their way to New Hampshire where Emma lived, but Clara didn't mind. Clara knew a lot more about them that Dean had hoped, and couldn't help but wonder if she was just really smart or had a special interest in the two of them.

"Emma really liked Sam, I could tell by the way she talked to him. He's a really sweet guy I much would have rather her ended up with a guy like him." She said out of nowhere, her mind lost in thought. Dean nodded, night had fallen so he could see her now, the glow of her spirit lighting her features.

"How did you end up with Greg?" Dean asked, his hand gripping the steering wheel tightly. The sound of his name on his lips pissed him off.

"We met at a baseball game. We were sitting near each other and a foul ball popped up and we both tried to catch it, bumping into each other. He proposed a year later at the same stadium." She said, her voice monotone and emotionless. He wondered if she missed her life with her husband before he became abusive, or if she was so removed from the situation that not even those memories could bring her joy. Dean didn't say anything and re-gripped his hands on the wheel in nervousness. Why was she affecting him this way?

"What about you? Have you ever been in love?" she asked, her voice as innocent as the question. Dean didn't know how to answer. He opened his mouth a few times but closed it again.

"Lisa. Her name was Lisa. And her son Ben." He said, a flood of memories coming back to him. Cas had helped him wipe their memory of him. He was plagued with a love lost, but Lisa and Ben were clueless to his existence, and he wanted to keep it that way. He did a few jobs with Sam that past year, one of them being the Dowle case, but most of the time he was at home with them, building a life of his own. Sammy was soul-less, and Dean could hardly stand to be around him. Sam was just as happy to work without him too, and for quite some time they parted ways.

Clara looked down at her hands and then out the window.

"What happened?" she asked after a few seconds. She wasn't sure she wanted to pry that much into his personal life but curiosity got the best of her.

"My life isn't a good place for a kid, and Lisa was going to risk that, so I left." He said quietly, his raspy voice sounding strange to him. The subject bothered him, but it had been nearly a year since he had let them go.

"How will you ever fall in love if you push everyone away?" she asked. Dean began to feel exposed. She didn't know anything about him, love wasn't a luxury he had. He didn't have a choice to love someone.

"Some people don't have that luxury." He said, his voice a little too harsh for his own liking. She smile a little and looked at him through the rear view mirror.

"Think of it this way, at least you're still alive. Don't waste your life pushing people away because one day you won't be able to touch them." She said her voice cutting. He looked back at her, her face strong and determined. Dean couldn't help but be attracted to her candor, the way she talked back to him. She was sweet until she knew she was right and you were wrong. She stood for what she believed in and Dean wished he had met her 4 years ago when she was alive. A smile crept onto her face that broke the tension, and they talked until Dean decided it was time to stop for the night.