Sorry about the late update. I had some personal stuff I had to get done, so this story just had to wait.

Well, it's a little short, but enjoy!

~Christianne

PS~ Sorry for any typos. I didn't have as much time as I wanted to edit this.

Nikki POV

I pulled my thin sweatshirt over my shoulders tighter as I walked out of the hospital the next morning. It was early yet, the sidewalk was damp under my sock-covered feet.

"Here." I heard Sam say, before a heavy, hot jacket draped over my shoulders. I looked up at him, surprised. He just shrugged. "You looked cold." He mumbled.

He gave me his jacket.

Sam gave me his jacket.

Sam gave me his jacket and I didn't have to ask.

I ducked my head and let my tangled hair hide my flaming cheeks.

"Here 'ya go." I heard Dean say when we got to the back of the parking lot, where Dean had parked the Impala. He'd been free to go last night. Sam and I had to say overnight. The boys debated just making a run for it, but if we wanted to take another look at what was left of the house, ditching the ER probably wasn't the best idea.

I took the box Dean was holding out to me and leaned on the bumper of the Impala as I tugged the new Convers on. Running through a burning house had melted the souls on my old ones and the hospital staff had thrown them out. I'd given Dean money and a specific set of directions to get me another pair. Thankfully, the threat of hawthorn in his food was enough to get him to follow them to the letter (hawthorn eliminated certain…desires that Dean…enjoyed embracing).

Once I had my new sneakers on, I looked at the two brothers who were quietly talking and glancing at me now and then.

"So…What now?" I asked, crossing my arms tightly across my chest.

"We go look at the house." Dean stated.

"If you're up to it." Sam added quickly, sending Dean a look that was clearly upset for his less than sensitive statement.

"Yeah, yeah I am." I said, nodding. I didn't want to. But now, I had the same vendetta against this thing as Sam and Dean did. "As long as I can change clothes first." I added, frowning at my singed clothes that smelled like smoke.

Dean drove to a gas station not far from the hospital, and all three of us dug through our bags for clean clothes. I didn't say anything as I walked quickly to the women's restroom, locking the door behind me. It was just a single room, no stalls or anything.

I'd given Sam his jacket back, and was already regretting it. I maneuvered my sore body and cracked rib into a clean bra, a t-shirt and hoodie; and I was missing the warmth of Sam's jacket. Pants, though, where the real challenge. The gash from falling through a window was bigger than I thought. After a few minutes of swearing and leaning on the sink to shimmy into my jeans, I buttoned them up and set to work on my hair.

The normally thick, louse curls where a tangled mess that took me almost fifteen minutes and a damp brush to untangle. It smelled as smoky as the clothes I'd just stripped out of, so I did my best to put it back in a tight braid.

I stayed in the bathroom a little longer, my back against the door as I clenched my bottom lip quivered and a few tears tracked down my face.

Olivia and Greg.

Gone.

A sharp knock on the door made me jump. "You almost done in there, princess?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," I said through the door. Stopping to clear my throat so the thick, broken sound was gone. "Yeah, just a second." Dean grunted from his side of the door.

I combed my hair with my fingers a few times, trying to push back those few curls that didn't want to stay in the braid. After I held a cool paper towel to my eyes for a while, I exited the bathroom and joined Sam and Dean at the front of the store.

"Hey." I said, shoving my hands into my pockets. Dean didn't say anything, he just got in the Impala and sent me and Sam an annoyed look when we didn't get in the car and shut the doors fast enough.

Sam and Dean headed up the driveway to the charred house while I dug around my bags for my jacket. We'd stopped at my motel room to get my stuff. I guess Bobby's truck was staying in Peshtigo.

Once I found my jacket, I slowly started up to the house.

The door had been propped against a tree so the firemen and inspectors could get in and out of the house. It was amazing how one side of the oak door could be black and ugly while the other was still glossy and smooth.

The stain glass windows where gone, shattered from the heat.

"Careful."

I jumped when I felt a hand on my upper arm pull me off to one side, away from the broken chandelier. I didn't even know I was about to step on it. I looked up at Sam, and he quickly dropped my arm.

"You sure you should be here?" He asked as he followed me through the house. "I mean-"

"I'm fine, Sam." I said flatly, crossing my arms over my chest tightly, hugging my jacket closer around me.

He said nothing as he followed me.

I kept my eyes forward as I passed the kitchen; I couldn't even look at the place Greg died. Hell, I couldn't think about it. I kept going until I got into the dining room.

I stopped in front of the china cabinet; it was built into the wall, original to the house. The glass was rounded in the small doors, impossible to buy now. When Chris and I broke one while horsing around a few years ago, Greg had to special order a replacement.

"It was a warning." I eventually sighed, crossing my arms again.

"Hm?" Sam asked, looking up from what used to be the family photo album on the buffet along the wall. It was just ashen paper and smokey photos now. I was surprised the thick pages where still bound together.

"This…" I said, gesturing around at the blackened dining room. "A warning…You said he was watching me. The demon…was watching me." I clarified. I shrugged a little as I pulled a half-burnt picture of Chris and me from a frame on the floor out from under the shattered glass of the frame. I brushed the ash off and carefully put the picture of Chris in his dress blues and me in my graduation gown in my pocket.

"Where's Dean?" I asked randomly. I'd seen both brothers go in, but in the time I'd been in the house I'd only seen Sam.

Sam looked around, getting a confused look on his face as he looked through the door back to the kitchen and to the foyer. Sam started towards the door to the hall as he spoke. "I don't-"

"Son of a bitch!" I heard Dean curse. Sam threw the door to the hall open, clearly worried.

When Sam opened the door, I let out a laugh before I quickly clapped my hand over my mouth. There, from the ceiling, I could see one of Dean's black boots all the way up to the middle of his calf. His jeans where ridden up, showing the tops of his boots and a few inches of his skin, now streaked with ash.

"Sammy! How 'bout a little help damnit!"