New chapter! Thanks for reading, following, and encouraging me to write more!

Maryem - I haven't exactly decided Amelia's age, but she's either 20 or 21.

Amelia watched as Sam finished wrapping up the bodies. Paul was gone. Amelia's brother was dead. Her father was dead. She grimaced. The ground was gone from underneath her feet.

Amelia was studying to be a nurse at the college a town over on an athletic scholarship for track. Long distance running. Without her family there was no reason to stay. Hell, without her family there was really no reason to keep going to school. She already had her CNA.

"So you guys do this sort of stuff all the time?"

He glanced up at her. "Yea, pretty much."

"How did you even get started at something like this?"

"Family business."

Silence hung in the air for a few minutes.

"How'd you end up here in town? I mean, how'd you find out about these," she gestured to the bodies, "things?"

"We watch the news," Sam told her, loading the second body, "keep a look out for weird stuff. We noticed the kidnappings, and the bloody crime scene and thought it might be our kind of thing."

Dean arrived back with the final body. "You know, it's probably not a bad idea to behead them when we get there. Frickin' witches, man."

He helped his brother wrap the final body and load it into the already packed trunk.

"I swear, if they get blood all over my car..."

"I wrapped them up, Dean," Sam told him, "it's fine."

"Yea, ok," he muttered. "Let's get going. Amelia, you'll want a lift back to your place?"

"Uh," she scuffed her shoe in the dirt, and scrunched her face up, but there was no way around it. She had to talk. "About that. Knowing that this kind of stuff is out there," she made a broad gesture with her hand, "well, I guess I," she chewed her lip. God, she hated this, begging for help. "Can I go with you?"

Sam's eyebrow cocked up. Dean just looked at her blankly.

"I mean, I don't want to spend the rest of my life scared of shadows," she told them, "I just want to know what's out there, how to find it, what to do about it."

"You want to be a hunter?" Dean asked, squinting his eyes at her.

"I wouldn't get in the way," she insisted, "I'll do whatever you say, just, God, don't leave me here for the rest of my life wondering if my neighbor's a freaking demon or something."

"Look, it's not a fun job," Dean snapped, "there's blood, and crappy hotel rooms and convenience store crap they sell as food. And amateurs get people killed. Even good hunters get killed. Brutal ways. You have a life, go live it."

Amelia just looked at him, no expression on her face. "What life?" She snapped back, when he had finished, taking a step towards them. "My brother's dead. My family's dead. Maybe school in the fall, but that's almost three months. I'm a nurse, I've seen people die. I watched my family get ripped to shreds. Now, take me or leave me, that's your choice. But I've made mine, I'm going to find out about this shit one way or the other."

She ended up a few feet away from the brothers, jaw clenched, hands tight in fists.

Dean looked at her with something between anger and pity. Sam just looked sorry for her.

"Now look here," Dean started, but Sam put a hand on his chest.

"Ok, Amelia."

"What?!" Dean looked at his brother in surprise. "You can't just-"

"Dean."

He calmed down a little bit at his brother's tone, but he still looked at her with distaste.

"Ok," Sam looked back at her. "I can't promise anything, but we'll call up our friend Bobby. He knows more about the supernatural than anyone we know. He's sort of a consultant. He might be willing to take you in, I don't know, as an apprentice or something. You could learn about the supernatural and you wouldn't be going on hunts, or putting other people danger."

He glanced at Dean, who still looked bitter, but not quite as much as before.

"I'm not just going to sit around reading books, or whatever," Amelia protested.

Sam held up his hand again. "Until you learn something about what we do, that's the way it's going to be, alright? You came along on this hunt because you had a right to. It was your family that was killed, you deserved revenge. But now you have it. Anything more, and you need to know what you're doing. Right now you don't, and that could get someone killed."

Amelia had a sour look on her face. But she nodded once, reluctantly. "Fine."

"Alright, I'll call Bobby, we'll see what he says." Sam took out his phone and dialed a number.

Amelia settled back against the car, glancing around at nothing, and her and Dean proceeded to glare at each other whenever their eyes met.

"Hey Bobby," Sam smiled into the phone, "no, no, we're fine. Just took care of three strigoi. Ash through the heart works wonders... Yea, we're going to burn them to make sure. Hey, listen, we got a civilian here, lost her family to the strigoi. She, uh, well, she wants to be a hunter, and well, we were kind of hoping you might take her on, show her the ropes... Yea, no, I understand... Yea, ok."

He held out the phone. "He wants to talk to you."

Amelia swallowed, and took the phone, holding it up to her ear. "Hello."

"Hello," she heard a gruff voice. "Sorry about your family."

She didn't reply.

"Alright, ever shot a gun?"

"What?" she blinked. "No, I guess not."

"Ever been in a barfight?"

"Um, yea." Not her proudest moment.

"Name three ways to get money without a job."

She looked at Sam and Dean blankly. The hell was this? "Hustling pool, prostitution." Dean snorted. She had to think another second, then had a snarky thought. "Politics."

"Heh," she heard a grunt. "What does an allen wrench look like?"

"An L, I guess, six-sided. Metal-y?"

"Know any Latin?"

"E pluribus unum?"

"Ever use a fake to get into a bar?"

She was getting into the swing of the strange questions. "Went to small town bars, didn't need one."

"Worst beating you've ever taken."

She swallowed, and took a chance. "Every Friday when father dearest got into the Jack."

"Put Sam back on."

She held the phone back out, and Sam took it.

"Yep... Yea, no, she did pretty well. Got two of the strigoi actually. With a dislocated shoulder... Yea, I guess... Ah, not so much. You know how it is. Alright."

He hung up. "He says you're welcome to come for a week or two, to see how things go."

Amelia nodded. "Awesome," she said, in a mostly deadpan voice.

"Come on, that's my line!" Dean looked offended.

Sam ignored him. "I guess we can drive you to Bobby's. He lives in South Dakota," he informed Amelia. "Owns a junk yard."

"We gotta take care of the bodies first," Dean reminded him.

"Well yea. Listen, why don't we drop you off. We probably won't leave until tomorrow, maybe the day after, so pack some stuff up, get things squared away. There's not much extra room in the Impala, so keep it within reason."

"I travel light," she shrugged.

"Right, here's my number."

They climbed into the Impala, and it roared to life.

"Do you have a place for the night?"

"Uh," she swallowed again. "Yea," she lied. No way she was spending the night with pissed-off Dean. Or any two random strangers, even if she had just killed freaking vampires with them. Whatever had happened to her life, that wasn't going to change.

"We'll be at the motel and you have my number if you need anything."

"Right, thanks."

She rinsed off her face and made sure the blood wasn't noticeable on her sweatshirt. The last thing she needed was more questions. Dean pulled up in front of the house. The house where she had seen such horrible things. So much blood. Amelia took a breath. Dean put his car in park. Crime tape cordoned off the porch.

"Call the police up, they should let you in to get your stuff. No need to get fancy with explanations, and probably better if they don't see us. See you soon," Sam told her.

"Bye guys," she said, and stepped out, shutting the door behind her.

Amelia stood at the end of the sidewalk, staring at the house, which looked so innocent. Her parents had moved there after she was already in college, so she didn't know it very well. Now she had every reason to hate it. But she took a breath, and walked to the porch.

The Impala purred away down the street. She glanced at the door, which was taped shut with the special crime scene tampering sticker. She saw a number on it, though, and ducked under the tape so she could dial it on her phone. She wasn't in the mood for calling 911. After calling the number, Amelia sat down on the porch, hugging her knees, waiting for the police to show up.

I had fun writing Bobby's questions in this chapter, I hope you enjoyed reading it! I'll be posting again soon, thanks again for reading. :)