A/N: This chapter was rough and awkward to write/edit, so I hope it comes out well.

It got me thinking though. I've had this thought before. Deep moment. Ready?

It HURTS when something you pour your writer's heart and soul into is not well received, simply because it's not as popular a topic as other content that is written.

Anyone know what I'm talking about? I think it's a good lesson for us as writers...people read what they want, and that might not necessarily be the writing that you've passionately poured yourself into. It's a hard business, everyone.

*gets down off soapbox and walks away*

I stumble along behind Cameron, who doesn't really seem to notice my distress. I'm straining for any remaining contact with Gadreel and Metatron, but they're gone now. My head screams rawly, burnt by their presence.

Maybe the girl does notice that I'm struggling. Once we reach the car she opens the passenger door for me, jingling the keys in between her fingers.

"Alright. I'm driving. You tell me where to go." she announces.

"Take 13th down to Eldridge and go right." My hands are sweaty as I pull my phone out of my pocket and hit #1 speed dial.

I need Dean to answer. I need it.

Dean's voicemail picks up.

"Dean, please call me back. Man, It's important. I think Metatron's got you on his hit list. Please call me back!"

Cameron doesn't poke and prod for answers. She's focused. Her knuckles stand out white as she squeezes her fingers around the steering wheel, her eyes not wavering from the road.

I call Dean three more times, leaving similar messages each time.

Finally, the phone drops back into my lap, along with my defenses.

"I guess you know I haven't been completely honest with you." I begin slowly.

She relaxes, turning to me for a second, her eyes running over me lazily. She snorts."Yeah, I figured that out a long time ago."

"Kevin is...was...a very close friend of mine, okay? And it's my fault that he's dead."

It's my fault.

"I didn't actually kill him, but someone used me to make sure he ended up dead."

"How did someone use you to do that?" Cameron asks.

I can still hear Gadreel's victorious scream in my head as my consciousness trickled away.

I cough. "They tricked my brother, Dean, and then used him to get to me...then they...uh...brainwashed me and drugged me into killing Kevin."

"And what exactly did they do to 'brainwash' you?" She presses.

"That's kind of what I'm trying to figure out. I don't remember anything until about three days ago."

Cameron shakes her head sympathetically, but I would be naive to think that she actually believes me.

"Do you know who did this to you?" she asks, barely-noticeable sarcasm dripping in her voice.

I bite it out. "His name is Gadreel."

This girl might chew through her lip at the rate she's going. "So how are you planning on figuring out what happened?"

"Well Gadreel is part of a...well, I guess you could call it some sort of terrorist cult. That's what my brother and I do for a living...we hunt them down. Gadreel is just higher rank and smarter than what we are used to dealing with."

My chance for her to actually think I'm being truthful are draining away with every word. I might as well throw in, 'and oh, yeah, I'm not talking about a human cult. I'm talking about angels. My brother and I hunt monsters'.

She hasn't kicked me out of the car yet. She must be thinking hard, because the deeper the wrinkles on her forehead get, the faster we move down the highway.

I clear my throat, not trusting her to go this fast. She hasn't proven herself to have Dean's driving skills.

"So did this 'Gadreel' want you and your brother out of the way? Is that why he did what he did?" she asks, not noticing my hinting.

I run my hand through my hair, staring out at the front windshield so that I can shout a warning to her if I need to. "Basically, yeah. We're too good at what we do to get left alone." It's not boasting. It's just the truth. "And they went after me, now they're going after Dean...my brother."

"Should we find your brother then? Before this crazy guy gets him?"

Her voice sounds like a robot, one who has frantically spinning wheels going in its head, but continues to function to upkeep the appearance of normality.

"That's where we're headed." I answer. "It's a long drive, though. Please go as quickly as you can."

My shoulders are pressed back against the seat as she hits the accelerator. Despite all my reservations about this spunky blonde, she's helping me.

That's more than I can say for either Dean or Cas right now. Murderers can't be choosers, I suppose.

Murder. Verb. The unlawful premeditated killing of one human being by another.

So, technically. This isn't murder. What do you call it when the killing of one human by an angel, who is currently possessing a human?

Smiting?

It's not my fault.

It's not my fault!

My heart races, beating a harsh pattern against my Chest. Blood crashes into my brain, my stomach, my lungs.

I can't breathe. I choke on a mouthful of air, digging my nails into the burnt skin on my palms to bring me back down, to help me focus.

Dean. Keeping Dean alive is my priority

I dial Cas' number now. If Dean won't speak to me, there's no way…

Not after what Gadreel did to him. What I did to him.

I sit in shocked silence when his gravelly voice sounds out on the other line.

"Hello?"

Castiel repeats the confused greeting a few times before my tongue remembers how to do the talking thing.

"Cas! It's Sam. Listen. Metatron and Gadreel are going after Dean." the words tumble out all at once as my panic builds. "I'm on my way...I was wondering if you could hit the bunker and make sure he's okay."

My hand goes to my coat again, to the bottle of pills that are there.

I don't need them. I don't need them.

"I'm about an hour away." I tell the angel.

The phone crackles loudly as I hear Cas' wings settle.

"I'm here. He's alright." he says.

The painful tightening in my chest loosens a little. My brother is still alive.

"I'm on my way. Stay with him, Cas."

I don't give him time to object before I end the call.

The obvious question comes from the driver's side of the car. "Who's Cas?"

"A friend." I say simply. "Turn onto I-25. South."

"A close friend?" She presses.

"He's practically like a brother to us."

Jess smiles in the backseat. "Good, Sam. Keep it simple."

I have no idea how long she's been there.

The car is starting to smell like her perfume. Cherry blossoms. Or is that Cameron's?

"Dean won't talk to me because he's ashamed of what happened."

The unnatural turn in conversation doesn't catch Cameron off guard as much as it does me.

My head hurts to talk about Dean. The thousands of questions I have for him that are still unanswered. "And Cas hasn't been talking to either of us; he doesn't trust Dean and he thinks I'm still brainwashed."

"That's horrible." she says. It's the same matter-of-fact tone that I'm starting to get used to with her, only a little softer. She looks over at me, her hand barely brushing the top of mine. I'm not sure she even knows what she just did, but I take it as a sign that she cares. Maybe even believes me a little bit.

"Thank you." I manage.

"Sam." Jess says gently from the backseat. "It's alright to be upset."

I shove my thumb into the center of my palm, digging it into the raised white scar that has helped me block out the dead in my mind for over two years now.

Jess is wrong. I have to be strong enough to see this out and save Dean.

"So where are we going?" Cameron asks, her hand far away from mine again, gripping the steering wheel with the same steely ferocity as before.

"Home." I reply. "We aren't exactly...on the best terms with...well, anyone. Ever. Our ancestors left us a great secluded place we can defend. It's right past the state line, in Iowa." I pause. "You have no idea how much I'm trusting you to not tell anyone the location."

"Hey don't worry, my lips are sealed." her slim fingers slide across her lips in a twisting motion.

I nod and stare out my window, my heart twisting its way up to my throat again. Jess would always do the same motion when she was keeping a secret, her brown eyes laughing playfully at me.

"The resemblance is...oh, what's the word...uncanny?" Jess muses in my ear.

The putrid combination of burning flesh, smoke, and cherry blossoms is choking me.

I gaze out the window, my tired eyes blurring the scenery into a monotonous greenish-brown. Somewhere in the thick fog of my head, I hear a rhythm tapping itself out, faster and faster.

Cameron. Her fingertips pound against the steering wheel, the same nervous energy that she displayed outside the cafe at our first meeting.

My heart is beating faster and faster, or maybe that's just the pulse in my ears.

Isn't it the same thing? I slip my hand into my bag and pull out one of my instant-break ice packs, snap and shake it, and slide it under my shirt, against my left side. Keeping my core temperature down is challenging, but this seems to be a solution that works, at least temporarily.

"Alright, I've told you a lot about me. I think it's your turn." I say.

The words slide out of her mouth as if through a filter. "Well what would you like to know about me?"

"Um, how about we start with, I don't know...who the hell ARE you?" I ask. "Who just agrees to drive with a stranger who lied about being FBI? And who just goes along with a story about being brainwashed to murder?"

"Ease off." Jess warns me.

"My name is Cameron Morgan, and I have been through enough that your brainwashing story is not unbelievable for me. And I'm going along with all this because I want to know what happened to your dead friend."

She firmly presses her lips together, like she's afraid to keep talking and tell me the truth in secrets.

So not Smith, like she told Garth. Maybe even Cameron Morgan isn't her real name.

I press the ice pack closer to my skin, shuddering as it hits a nerve with its freezing touch. "And you met Garth. He gave you my letter in the first place. How'd you run into him, and what gave him the idea to give you the letter?"

"I literally bumped into him on the way out of the police department. I had just finished explaining how I found the dead body."

"And that was it?"

"I guess he figured that I would be able to help since I found the body." she shrugs, still refusing to look away from the road.

"Okay." So it had been typical Garth, going out on a limb of simple faith like he always does.

I see Jess again, blinking with Cameron's eyelids, breathing with Cameron's lungs. Cameron is wearing Jessica's face. Or vice verse.

I can't stand it any more.

I look at the small fingers, still tapping out an odd rhythm on the steering wheel. It's easier. Sort of.

I hum tunelessly to myself for a moment, distracting my brain from the pain as I shift the ice pack again. The compress almost warm already.

I have to break the silence.

"So...are you on your own? Family? Partners?"

"My mom is the principle of a school out of town, so I don't see her often. I have several friends I keep in touch with as well."

Her voice lilts in the tune of a rehearsed speech that I know all too well. She's not a hunter, obviously. So what is she?

"So besides family you're just a loner?" I press.

Jess' fingertips dance across my forehead. "You're burning up again." Her tone is serious, but I brush her hand away.

"Not exactly."Cameron's voice comes to me.

Something about her tone makes me stare at her and...crap. I shake my head and stare.

The glowing cheekbones, framed by the luscious blonde locks that perfectly frame... Okay, now I've done it.

I turn my head to the window again, feeling the blood rush to my face. Great. Like I needed more body heat ears are buzzing with fever. I can hear it now that we are sitting in silence.

I get another ice pack, doing a count of the remaining ones in my bag by touch. Five.

I try to think about Cameron, figure her out, but Jess is constantly interrupting me.

I have more important things to worry about, anyway. Like saving Dean. Anything after that I will deal with when it comes around.