Sam and I accompanied Amy to the police station to turn her husband in for the brutal murder of her brother. I stayed with her the whole time, from the moment we entered headquarters to the moment she had to painstakingly relay the story of her brother, James "Jimmy" Wilson, in front of his girlfriend and subsequently the girlfriend having to be institutionalized, to having her husband confess to her that he was one of the men who bombarded and attack Jimmy and killed him. Watching the officer write down the details, I held onto Amy's hand giving her comfort and letting know I was there for her.

As we walked out of the station house, Sam pushed himself off the fender of the car and headed our way.

"It's over," Amy said, skeptical. "It's really over. I found Jimmy's killer after all this time." She chuckled a sad laugh. "I just happened to be stupid enough to fall in love and marry the bastard!"

"Amy, it's not your fault," I try to reassure her. "You didn't know Steve was involved in that. He lied to you."

Sam placed his hand on her shoulder. "Do you have any place to stay? Family nearby?"

"Yea, I'm going home," Amy tells us. "Mom and Dad live about 15 minutes away. I'm going to stay with them."

"Good," Sam said, smiling down at her. "You are going to need all the love and support you can get."

We walked her to her car and as she unlocked the door she looked up at us. "All these years, I thought my aunt was a lunatic. Come to find out, she knew what she was talking about."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Yea, looks like."

With that she got in her car, started the engine and took off.

Back at Bobby's, Sam and I got back into our usual routine. I enjoy an early morning cup of coffee while Sam goes on his daily run then inside to cook breakfast for the three of us before it's off the the garage for Bobby and back to searching for cases for Sam and I, still trying to get all the monsters that were released the night Hell's Gate was opened. Life was repetitive. I missed Dean. He always seemed to make boring, monotonous days interesting. I tried not to let my mind wander to him too much. It hurt to think of him living the apple pie life with Lisa; without me.

Friday morning, 28 days after leaving Indiana, started out just like the rest. Except this morning, instead of pouring over news articles and death reports, I find myself out back in the building that I had turned into a makeshift workout room when I first moved into Bobby's. The multi-colored foam mats covering the floor are dusty and the shelves holding my miniscule supply of hand weights grimy. In the corner the punching bag I had suspended from the ceiling hangs at a standstill.

I grab my fingerless sparring gloves from the shelf, clapping them together to dust them off. Getting my hands reacquainted to the mitts I stretch and lengthen my fingers before curling them under and walk to the bag. The first punch causes a cloud of dust to erupt, leading me to a coughing fit. I grab the bottle of water I had brought in with me and drink it down. Getting back in stance, I throw another punch and feel the reverberations up my arm. I relish in the sensations and continue pummeling the sand-filled bag. Alternating between hands, I pound my fists over and over again, remembering to slightly jump from foot to foot to keep my balance.

I don't know how long I assault the sturdy leather but I am enjoying the burn in muscles I hadn't used in a while. My regimen is halted when Sam opens the door and walks in.

"You know, I forget sometimes what a badass you are, Nic," Sam chuckles. "You could probably kick my ass."

"Nah, Sammy, I wouldn't do that to you."

Sam gives me his best bitch face at the nickname. I knew he hated when Dean called him that and I couldn't resist the jab.

"I know, I know," I say, taking one more shot at the bag before turning and giving it a swift kick. The chains holding the bag squeak at the impact. "Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old," I laugh as I reach for my water to finish it off. Sam hands me a towel to dry my sweat covered forehead.

"So what did that bag do to you anyway?"

"Nothing," I say, smiling. "Just figured with it being quiet, I'd get back into keeping in shape. I was a fitness trainer after all, ya know. Can't go getting lax because I'm sitting in the backseat of Baby--" I catch myself and change courses. "Sitting in the seat of a car, running across the country, eating bad diner food."

"You miss him, doncha?"

"He made his bed, now he has to lie in it," I say, shrugging. "And I have to realize it isn't me in that bed."

"He loves you. He'll be back." Sam says, genuinely.

"No, he won't Sam. He'll stay there to protect his son."

"But what if he doesn't. What if that kid isn't his?"

"Sam," I say, not in the mood to play what-ifs. "You saw Ben. He is Dean's. No doubt in my mind."

"Well, all I'm saying is until there is written hard proof, there is always a chance."

"Sam Winchester, the dreamer. Have you always been so romantic?"

"Shut up," Sam says with a small smile and a light blush on his cheeks.

I laugh at him and head to the door, my exercise done for the day. Sam grabs my bicep, stopping me. "He does love you Nic. I see it every time he looks at you."

The first weekend in November was quiet. None of us could find a single omen or death report that verged on the Supernatural side. Sam and I had went to town Saturday evening and caught a movie at the theater. By Sunday afternoon, I was getting angsty. I need to kill something. Anything. I had spent all day Sunday cleaning and re-organizing my home gym so I am looking forward to working out this morning. After my morning cup of joe and breakfast, I head upstairs to change into my sports bra and gym shorts. As I walk into the gym, I tilt my head at the distinct sound of a rumbling engine but I shrug it off as wishful thinking and go about my warm-up.

I'm preparing to work my arm muscles with some bicep curls when the door opens behind me. I expect to see Sam coming to join me like we had talked about but am stunned motionless when Dean walks in.

"Hey," he says sheepishly.

"Hey yourself," I say, grunting as I pull the weight in my hand up and toward me.

"Nic, I'm sorry about what I said," Dean says, quietly. "But I had to know."

"It's okay, Dean. I've come to terms with it. You have a kid with Lisa. And believe me, I get it. You have to protect him."

"You're wrong," Dean says, approaching me. "He's not mine."

"What?" I say, accidentally dropping the weight, barely missing my foot.

"Ben isn't mine. I got the DNA proof and then Lisa confessed. She knew he wasn't mine."

"That bitch!" I am beyond pissed. I could easily walk the 750 miles to Cicero and kick Gumby girl's ass. "She knew all along and she led you to believe he could be yours? Why?!"

"Because I saved Ben. She knows who his father is and he's a real piece of work, I tell you," Dean says. "She wanted someone Ben liked and could look up to and once she seen what I done, fighting evil and saving the world, she thought I'd be the perfect father figure." I'm still seething so he keeps talking. "She didn't expect me to want proof so she was pretty surprised when I got the results and told her to have a nice life."

"So you're back? Back to saving people, hunting things, the family business?"

"Yea," Dean says, smiling. "I mean, if I'm welcome." He pauses and looks at me "Am I welcome, Nic? "

"It's your family, Dean. If Sam needs and wants you then who am I to say no."

"You're my family too, Nic." Dean says, holding his hand out to me.

"Dean, you hurt me," I tell him, looking at his outstretched hand. "You just left. Didn't give me a chance to help. I didn't think you wanted me around."

"And I didn't think you'd want me if I had the baggage of a kid."

"Well you were wrong," I say, finally taking his hand and letting him pull me to himself. "And I'm not saying you're forgiven, Dean Winchester. But, you can work on that." I smile up into his gorgeous green eyes.

"I can do that," Dean says, swiping a strand of hair out of my face. "I'll do whatever I need to do, baby."

We walk hand-in-hand out of the building and back toward Bobby's. "So have you been stuck here this whole time?"

"Nah, took on a couple cases but it has been unnervingly quiet lately."

"The quiet before the storm."

"That's what I'm afraid of!"

Sam and I catch Dean up on what has happened while he was away. Sam begrudgingly tells Dean about Ruby, the demon who had vowed to help him. We are all out in Baby, gone to get food supplies for Bobby's.

"She's a demon!" Dean argues. "I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a demon you go for the holy water! You don't chat!" I sit quietly in the back, staying out of the conversation. Although I am agreeing with everything Dean is saying; Ruby is a demon and shouldn't be trusted.

"No one was chatting, Dean."

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?"

"Because - Because she said she might be able to help us out!"

"How?"

Sam pauses, knowing he doesn't have a good answer.

"No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help?"

But before Sam can come up with an answer a cell phone starts ringing. I look down at mine and the screen is black. No call coming in on my line. "Not mine," I speak up from the back seat.

Sam reaches for his. "It's not mine."

Dean goes for his and I can see over his shoulder the screen is blank, just like mine.

"Check the glove compartment, it's Dad's."

"Dad's?" Sam asks, curious.

"Yea, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call."

Sam opens the glove compartment, finds the ringing phone and answers it. " Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey."

"No! No, no, no, don't! Don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I, uh, I don't have my book in front of me." He gestures to me for a pen and I grab one out of my bag, handing it over the seat. "Do you, do you have the address so I can... Sure, OK. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot."

Sam ends the call and looks at his brother. "Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?"

"What?" Dean asks, incredulously.

"Outside of Buffalo?"

"No way," I mumble. It's unbelievable how much John Winchester kept his sons in the dark.

"Yeah. And someone just broke into it," Sam explains.

Dean makes a U-turn in the middle of the road and races back toward Bobby's. "Let's get our stuff and head that way. See what the old bastard had hidden and locked away."