Sam walks toward Mary's headstone while Dean and I wander around. I know Dean doesn't want to go near Mary's resting place so I try to keep him distracted. "Hey, let's see if we can find the oldest grave here," I suggest. I grab his hand and pull him toward the rows of headstones that look forlorn and unkempt. Sites like those usually meant it's been a while since anyone visited them.
"Nic, I know what you're doing," Dean complains as I begin reading the individual markers.
"Look, born 1903, died 1954, William Louis Garver. Nellie Sue Garver, born 1905, died 1932. Baby girl Garver died 1932. Awe, she died giving birth," I say looking at Dean who just rolls his eyes. "You don't think that's sad, Dean? Just think they married young, she got pregnant. They were all excited and then not only does he lose his wife but his baby too. And then he-," I continue while looking at the tombstone and calculating in my head. "-had to live with that for 22 more years."
"Yea, sad," Dean says, no emotion in his voice. I continue walking, reading more of the markers to myself. Suddenly Dean stops, which causes me to stop and look over at him. He's staring at an oddly shaped tree that looks barren of life. Even though it is the fall of the year the trees still haven't lost all their leaves so for this tree to be devoid of any type of foliage is unusual. We make our way over to it, it alluring our curiosity. Dean lets go of my hand and circles it, reaching out and knocking on its trunk. Looking around I notice a recent burial that is covered with pallid flowers.
"Babe, look at this," I say, getting Dean's attention. Squatting down, I run my fingers along the deadened petals. I feel him walk up beside me and I see him mirroring me. He reaches out and touches the perished bouquet. Standing back up, I look around and realize that there is a perfect circle of lifeless grass around the area. I get a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Dean." He's up beside me then and notices the same thing.
After talking to the caretaker, we learn that it is the site of a local college student who was buried three days ago, Angela Mason. Dean asks about the upkeep of the grounds and finds out that no type of chemicals are used in maintenance and there is no explanation to why the vegetation has been ruined. The caretaker hands Dean the information of the deceased's next of kin and we thank him before taking off to find Sam.
All three of us walk toward the Impala as we regale our findings to Sam. "Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide?" Sam suggests. "No, we asked. No chemicals are used," I answer him. "Okay," Sam says hesitantly. "What are we thinking?"
"I dunno. Unholy ground, maybe?" Dean asks. Sam stops in his tracks. "Un-?"
"What," Dean says turning to his brother. "If something evil happened here it could easily poison the ground. Remember Cedar Rapids."
"Could be sign of demonic possession," I suggest to them. "Or Angela's spirit, if it's powerful enough."
Sam nods but turns away from us.
"Well don't get too excited. You might pull something," Dean speaks.
"It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?"
"So?" We continue walking toward the car.
"So - are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?"
"What else would it be about?"
Sam sighs, shakes his head, and reaches for the door handle. "You know, just forget about it."
"You believe what you want, Sam, but - I let you drag my ass out here, the least we could do is check this out."
"Yeah. Fine."
Dean walks around to get into the driver's seat as Sam and I move to get into our side.
"Girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school."
"Then let's go talk to him," I reply from the backseat.
We find the office of Angela's father easily and knock on the door. An older, balder gentleman answers. "Yes?"
"Dr. Mason?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Sam. This is Dean and Nicole. We were friends of Angela's. We ... we wanted to offer our condolences." I smile sadly at him when I catch the hitch in his breathing at his daughter's name. "Please, come in." We enter and he closes the door behind us. Sam and I sit down on the couch in his office while Dean starts examining the bookshelf in the corner. He pulls up a book from the table and shows us a photo album. Looking through the various pictures of the young brunette, I tell her father, "She was beautiful."
"Yes, she was." he agrees.
"This is an unusual book," Dean says, motioning to a book he has been leafing through. He shows the cover of the book he's been paging through; it has carvings of Greek letters and a triangular symbol.
"It's ancient Greek; I teach a course."
"So a car accident, that's, that's horrible!" Sam declares, trying to steer the conversation back to the phone album. "Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh..." Dr. Mason speaks with a break in his voice. "It's gotta be hard. Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're s- still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence," I state.
Dean looks at me with concern on his face. I ignore him and get back to the task at hand. "You ever feel anything like that?"
"I do, as a matter of fact," Dr. Mason tells us.
"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason. Especially with what you're going through," Sam consoles.
"You know, I still phone her," her dad tells us, looking at me. "And the phone's ringing before I remember that, uh ... Family's everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I, I, I'm just lost without her."
"We're very sorry," I express my sorrow by placing a hand lightly on his knee.
After wrongly accusing Dr. Mason of using his extensive intellect to bring back his daughter, our investigation leads us to Angela's friend Neil, who had actually conducted a ritual to bring back his friend, whom he was in love with. But, he not only brought back the love of his life, Angela was a vengeful spirit. Unfortunately, we didn't catch onto his act before Angela murdered her boyfriend, Matt and attacked her roommate, Lindsey. Turns out that the day Angela died she had walked in on the two of them. We confront Neil and tell him that we must put Angela back to rest by redoing the ritual at her gravesite, to lure her there.
At the cemetery, Sam gets chosen as bait while Dean and I dig to get to her coffin. Once we get her body back into the casket, Dean stabs her with a stake, pinning her in. After driving it through, her body goes limp and the dead is once again dead.
"What's dead should stay dead," Dean pants, looking wistfully up at me.
We leave the graveyard and head out of town. A little while later, Dean unexpectedly pulls off the road and gets out. He walks to the front of the Impala and sit on the hood. Sam and I look at one another, concerned. We both get out and walk to him. Sam sits beside him and I come up and stand next to him.
"Dean, what is it?"
He pauses for a moment but then speaks, "I'm sorry."
"You - For what?" Sam asks.
"The way I've been acting. And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad too. And it's my fault that he's gone."
"What are you talking about?" I ask, feeling uneasy. He looks at me and timidly smiles then looks at his brother. "Sammy, I know you've been thinking it - so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone. " I grab his hand and squeeze it. I don't like the way he is talking. "Dean," Sam says, trying to stop the self-deprecating speech coming from the older Winchester. "You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."
"We don't know that. Not for sure," I tell him, trying to comfort him. Dean starts crying and it's breaking my heart. "You and Dad ... you were the most important people in my life. And now, I got you, Nic..." he says, looking at me and then back to his brother. "I never should've come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." Sam nods as tears start streaming down my face. "So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?"
Dean looks at Sam; Sam looks away and Dean looks at me and then stands up and walks toward the back of the car. I follow him and pull him into a hug as he continues to cry. I can't stand it. I can't stand to see this selfless, tough-as-nails hunter uncertain and fragile. So, I say the only thing I know to say.
"I love you, Dean Winchester," I whisper into his neck.
A few days later finds me and the brothers on the road again stopping for gas and snacks. While Dean is filling Baby up, Sam and I go into the store to get snacks and drinks. Sam abruptly leaves me and rushes to the restroom. I pick out what I want and go to the cashier to pay with the credit card Dean had handed me. I leave the store and head to the Impala. Dean snakes the bag from my hand. "Did you remember pie?"
"Of course I remembered pie baby," I laugh. My boy and his pie.
"Where's Sammy?"
"He took off to the bathroom," I say and then eye Dean suspiciously when a thought crosses my mine. "You didn't 'enhance' his drink earlier did you?"
"What? No!" Dean looks a bit surprised at my accusation. I believe him because Dean Winchester is not that good of an actor.
"I'll go get him," he says as I slide into my seat.
A few hours later
"Dean, it's another premonition. I know it. This is gonna happen, and Ash can tell us where," Sam explains. Sam had had another vision while we were shopping earlier and he had gotten a pretty good description of a bus line emblem. He knew searching for it would help determine what to do. The only problem was we were going to have to go to the Roadhouse. The one place I never wanted to set foot in again.
"Yeah, man, but..." Dean tries to dissuade his brother, sensing that I am are agitated and edgy about going back there. "I just don't know if going to the Roadhouse is the smartest idea," he says, our eyes meeting in the rear-view mirror. "It could have some connection with the demon. My visions always do."
"That's my point. There's gonna be hunters there. I don't know if, if, if going in and announcing that you're some supernatural freak with a, a demonic connection is the best thing, okay?" Dean offers a different explanation, realizing Sam isn't catching on to my discomfort. I lean up onto the back of the front seat, between the two. "Dean, it's okay. If it'll help Sam, I can handle it. I'll just avoid her while we're there."
Sam finally catches on and turns to look at me. "God, Nic. I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking about Jo being there. I just know I need to talk to Ash." He smiles back at me. "Hey maybe she won't be there. Maybe she's gone back to school or something." I return his smile and settle back into my spot. 'If only that were true,' I think to returns to his earlier conversation with his brother, "So I'm a freak now?" Dean laughs and slaps Sam on the thigh. "You've always been a freak." Dean smiles at his brother and turns his attention back to the road.
Harvelle's Roadhouse is somewhat crowded. Few of the tables are occupied, as are the stools at the bar. Walking in the door, I grab Dean's hand as I see her standing in the middle of the floor. Jo walks right up to us, smiling deviously.
"Just can't stay away, huh?"
"Yeah, whatever." Dean replies, looking around the bar.
"Where's Ash?" Sam asks, hurriedly.
"In his back room."
"Great," Sam utters, pushing past her.
"And I'm fine...," Jo yells after him.
"Who cares!" I say as I follow Sam and Dean toward Ash's room.
Once we get Ash, who had answered his door in the buff and causing Dean to put his hand over my eyes, dressed and into a semi-private area of the bar, Sam tells him of his vision and asks him to look up the bus line. "It's a Blue Ridge bus line in Guthrie, Oklahoma," Ash tells us.
"Okay. Do me a favor - check Guthrie for any demonic signs, or omens, or anything like that."
"You think the demon's there?" Ash questions.
"Yeah, maybe."
"Why would you think that?"
"Just check it, all right?" Dean demands.
Ash presses some keys on his computer and then says, "No, sir, nothing. No demon."
"All right, try something else for me. Search Guthrie for a house fire. It would be 1983, fire's origin would be a baby's nursery, night of the kid's six month birthday," Sam requests.
As the guys explain to Ash what they are needing him to check for, I glance around and notice Jo cleaning a table nearby staring intently at Dean. When she realizes I see her, she quickly turns and wipes the table off behind her. I decide then, I'm going to show her just how close Dean and I are.
"Okay, now that is just weird, man. Why the hell would I be looking for that," Ash inquires, taken aback at the pulls out a beer bottle and sets it next to the laptop. "'Cause there's a PBR in it for ya."
"Give me fifteen minutes," Ash answers, typing furiously on his computer.
Sam and Dean walk to the bar and grab two of the three vacant seats that are close. Instead of sitting on mine, I stand behind Dean wrapping my arms around his chest. "Um, Nic, not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing?" he asks me over his shoulder.
"Nothing," I reply, trying to sound innocent. Just then Jo walks by and Dean chuckles, catching on to my spontaneous display of affection. Patting my hand that's on his chest, he reaches round and pulls me to him, laying his arm across my shoulders and kissing my temple. "Let it go, babe. You have me," he whispers and it makes me realize that I have dropped down to the level of jealous high school drama shit. So, instead I just stand there, relishing in the fact that his arm is around me. I do actually 'have him'.
Minutes later, music fills the air of the bar and I immediately recognize the tune and begin humming along with the chords. "REO? Really? Who played this shit?" Dean asks, turning to see Jo walking away from the jukebox."Damn right REO. Kevin Cronin sings it from the heart," I scoff at my boyfriend. "They're classic!"
"He sings it from the hair. There's a difference," Dean laughs. "This ain't classic. Zeppelin is classic. Seger is classic."
"Oh, pssh. Come dance with me Dean," I beg, pulling on his arm.
"I don't dance, sweetheart. Anyways, there isn't a dance floor."
I finally get him off the stool and wrap my arms around his neck, slowly swaying my hips. "You can dance anywhere, Dean." He grabs my waist, laying his hands on each side and begins to sway with me. Pulling me closer he encases me in his arms and I softly sing in his ear.
What started out as friendship,
Has grown stronger.
I only wish I had the strength to let it show.
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.
I said there is no reason for my fear.
Cause I feel so secure when we're together.
You give my life direction,
You make everything so clear…
Sam rushes up to us, "We have a match. We've gotta go."
Dean takes my hand and we follow Sam out of the Roadhouse. I go to grab the handle of the back door and Sam stops me. "Nic, ride up front."
"Sam," I say, looking up at him flabbergasted. "You can't fit back there. Your legs are too long."
"I can if I sit sideways. Look, I feel bad for interrupting your dance. Just get up there."
"Are we going or not?" Dean yells from the driver's seat. I trade places with Sam and slide in beside Dean, who looks surprised but happy to see me. A couple hours pass and we are still on the road. Night has fallen and I have slowly shifted to the middle of the bench seat, sitting next to Dean. I begin humming the song we were dancing to and it turns into an off-key, acapella duet.
"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window on a cold dark winter night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..."
"You're kidding, right?" Sam speaks up from the back seat.
"Hey, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole! That applies to the back seat too!" Dean states, earning a groan from his brother. I turn and look at Sam. "So, whaddya got?
Sam looks at a stack of papers on his lap.
"Andrew Gallagher. Born in eighty three, like me. Lost his mother in a nursery fire exactly six months later, also like me."
"You think the demon killed his mom too?" Dean inquires. "Sure looks like it," Sam answers, looking at more papers. "How did you even know to look for this guy?" I ask, reaching back so Sam can hand me some of them to skim over. "Every premonition I've had, if they're not about the demon they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?" Sam asks his brother.
"Yeah, but Max Miller was a pasty little psycho," Dean comments, taking his eyes off the road long enough to look at me. "He used his abilities to murder abusive family members."
"Well, I can understand that," I say. "I'd love to be able to retaliate against my abuser."
Dean looks at me and rests his hand on my knee, lightly squeezing it.
"The point is he was killing people. And I was having the same type of visions about him. And now it could be happening all over again with this Gallagher guy."
"How do we find him?"
"Don't know. No current address, no current employment. He still owes money on all his bills - phone, credit, utilities..."
I cut Sam off, holding up a sheet of paper, "There's a work address from his last W-2, about a year ago."
"Let's start there," Dean confirms, pushing the gas pedal to speed up.