Elena's POV

I groaned at Dean's unwanted concert as he sings off key to the rock song currently on. My eyes wandered to Sam to see that he was completely in the zone, reading on the current case we are suppose to be on.

Having enough, I reach forward and eject the tape from its mount, finally sighing at the quiet. This is one of the many things I didn't miss.

"What the hell? It was just getting to the good part." Dean protested, reaching for the tape in my hand. With the smack to the back of his head, I lean back out of reach, tossing the tape under his seat.

"How about you give everyone ears a rest, Bon Jovi!" I retorted, leaning against my seat once again. "So, where the hell are we headed, Sam? I think we tortured ourselves enough." I commented, swatting Dean's hand away.

"Alliance, Nebraska. Babysitter found dead, wound to the head. Name Amber Freer." Sam spoke, scrolling through his laptop.

My head nodded a little to the side. "I know I've been out of the game a while, but what you told me show no signs of being a supernatural case." I said, leaning up to see over his shoulder.

"I have to agree with pipsqueak, Sammy! We need to be focusing on how to put Lucifer back in the hotbox." Dean answered, speeding down the highway.

Sam sighed. "Normally, I wouldn't looked twice, but Nebraska has been showing spiked signs demonic activity. If this is a normal case, it won't take us more than a few hours to clear. We're heading through there anyway." Sam exclaimed, looking between the two of us.

"Do they got great pie?" Dean asked, smirking at the two of us. I rolled my eyes and Sam proceeded to give the 'bitch' face.

Alliance, Nebraska

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the county hospital, turning off the ignition to the Impala. Sam popped open the glove department, taking hold of the fake FBI ID's. "We called some of our associates to have a set ID's made for you, Elena. Until then, follow our leave." Dean exclaimed, straightening his tie.

I shook my head in disagree. "Officially, you are pronounced dead to the world, but if any of the government officials spot you and report back to the FBI, they can describe me. Give me the keys, so I can go shopping." I said, sliding into the driver's seat, much to Dean's distaste.

"Oh, no! No one touches baby!" Dean exclaimed, hugging keys close to his body. I frowned annoyed with his obsession with this damn car.

"John let me drive this car at the age of nine! I'm more than capable to handle it now." I sassed back, snatching the keys from his grip.

"DAD had too many drinks that night. 'This car' is absolutely disrespectful to this masterpiece." I chose ignored the emphasis on 'Dad' and started the car. I looked to Sam. "How did you deal all those years?" I commented, shifting to drive.

Sam just simply smiled, nudging Dean away towards the hospital to go to the morgue.

Dean's POV

Sam and I enter the morgue, immediately noticing the Doctor, who in turn to face us. In sync, we pulled our badges. "Agents Page and Plant. FBI." I said, sliding ID back in my pocket.

The doctor displayed a small smile. "Gentlemen, what brings you by?" He said, laying down a file he was previously looking at.

"We are here to examine Amber Freer's body." Sam commented, looking around the office.

Confusion clouded the doctor's face. "Really? What for?"

"The police report said something clawed through her skull?" I questioned, looking on with boredom.

"I emailed the autopsy this morning. You didn't read them?" The doctor questioned, turning to walk away. Sam and I followed him over to the freezers.

"We had server issues." Sam said simply, sliding on gloves as the doctor slid the metal slab out of the freezer. He slid back the the sheet down to Amber's upper shoulders.

"When the body was brought in, we thought she was attacked by a wolf or something." Doctor explained, reaching behind him.

"Or something." I mumbled to myself. I looked to the doctor, feeling frown lines form when I examined what the doctor retrieved.

Sam's frame leaned in, matching my expression. "Is that a -"

"It's a press-on nail. We found it in her temporal lobe." Doctor explained, looking as baffled as he sounded.

"Is that even possible?" Sam questioned.

My eyes caught her hand, seeing the bruising around her nails. I looked up in slight shock. "Wait, are you-you saying that she did this to herself?" I questioned.

The doctor nodded, not believing what he is saying. "Uh-huh. She scratched her brains out. It'd take hours, and it'd hurt like hell, but sure-it's possible."

My eyebrow rose. "How?"

A slight annoyance form in his tone. "Pick your acronym-OCD, PCP. It all spells crazy." Doctor says.

Sam pulls the sheet away from her right hand, observing that the only nail missing was the middle finger.

"My guess, some kind of phantom itch. I mean, an extreme case. But…" Doctor trailed off from his thoughts.

"Phantom itch?" Sam questioned.

The doctor covers Amber back up, then slid her back in the freezer. "Yup. All it takes is someone talking about an itch-or thinking about one, even- and suddenly you can't stop scratching.

Sam nodded his head, while I did a two finger salute as a farewell. "Thanks, doc." Sam said.

Not even thirty seconds later, I was itching my ear, while I caught Sam scratching under his collar.

Sam's POV

Dean and I took refuge in the diner across the street, waiting for Elena show back up. We took a booth in the back for privacy, but the diner was nearly empty. I took the seat on the right, setting my laptop down. I remove my suit jacket and laid it across the seat.

"So, what are we thinking? Is it our crazy or Ripley's Believe It Or Not Crazy?" Dean commented, flipping through the menu.

"Well, I want to talk the family that Amber was babysitting for. We can decide to go from there." I said as I watched Dean. "Dean, you have to lay off on Elena." I said, waiting on him to get defensive.

Dean raised his head, looking over to me. "What did I do?" Dean exclaimed.

I sighed, rubbing my face. "You can't expect her to call John 'dad' after what happened. That bridge has burned and there is no repairing that." I explained.

Dean grunted, going back to the menu. "I know, but I also know that ate dad up after she disappeared, even if he didn't show it. How did you think I knew where she was? Dad stumbled upon her and her husband in Virginia." Dean countered.

Before I could finish my sentence, I was being shove over in my seat. Once I caught my bearings, I turn to look at the person sitting next to me. "Elena?" I questioned, looking her over.

She wearing a honey blonde wig that cut into a Bob with side bangs dressed in a dark gray pantsuit. "Yes, it's me. The thrift shop was quite useful." Elena said, smoothing down the wig.

"Blonde? Wanted to be more fun?" Dean snarked, flicking a peanut at Elena, which she successfully deflected.

"How original!" Elena flicked a peanut back, which landed onto Dean's eye. Who jerked wildly, which caused him to swat the tray out of oncoming waitress' hand. Elena immediately stopped laughing when she saw the waitress covered in food waist down.

"I'm so, so sorry. Let me help." Elena said in a panic, lurching from her seat. I sighed heavily. This was going to be a long day.