Okay people! I need some congratulations that we okay. Got in a car crash, other people fault so at least it wasn't ours, most likely totaled both cars since the tow guy isn't sure if they'll fix it or smash it. Now I got another problem, how am I getting to and from work? Crap, that sucks.

Pastor Jim

"Good morning." Pastor Jim smiled. "Can I help you?" The plaster came down the few steps, walking over to the young woman that had entered.

Meg slowly sat down on one of the benches, looking like she was preparing herself to confess her greatest sins. "I kinda...I need to talk." She said, sounding like a scared awkward girl.

The pastor stepped beside her. "Well that's what I'm here for."

Meg glanced up behind her eyelashes. "I've done some things...not good things."

"Well there's always forgiveness for us if we seek it." Pastor Jim told her what he had told many people over the years.

"For everyone?" Meg asked cautiously. "Are you sure?"

Pastor Jim thought for a minute. "I like to say salvation was created for sinners." He wondered what this girl could have been through to bring her here. "Tell me what's on your mind."

"Well, I've lied...a lot." Meg started. "I've stolen, lusted." Her voice seemed to change to a different tone. "And the other day I met this man, a nice guy you know?" She smiled at the memory. "We had a really good chat, sort of like this," her voice got a dark tone to it. "Then I slit his throat and ripped his heart out through his chest." She blinked and her eyes were solid black. Pastor Jim jumped back in growing horror. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"I know what you are." Pastor Jim took several steps away. "You can't be here, this is hallowed ground!"

"Please." Meg scoffed, slowly standing up. "Maybe that works in the minor leagues." she started walking towards him. "But not with me."

The pastor raced for the back door, quickly locking it and heading down the stairs into the basement. He frantically unlocked the basement door before locking himself in. Downstairs was the last thing you'd think to find in a church. On the wall was all kind of weapons a hunter could use: axes, blades, guns, bags of salt. He panicked, trying to grab something, anything he could use. But then Meg literally took the door down with a simple but sharp kick, actually snapping the wood of the door in pieces. The pastor grabbed a knife from the table with sigils carved into the handle, throwing it as hard as his human arms could at her head. She caught it before it ever made contact. "You throw like a girl." She said.

"What do you want?" Pastor Jim demanded.

"The Winchester's." Meg said.

"...I haven't spoken to John Winchester in over a year." Pastor Jim lied. "Your wasting your time." He was loyal, not about to give up a fellow hunter who saved his neck a few times to this demonic girl. "Even if I did know where they were, I'd never tell you." He sneered.

"I know." Meg said with a gentle smile. And then Meg slit his throat with her own knife, watching as he fell back, chocking to death on his own blood.

Manning, Colorado, "Please stop pacing!" I begged of Dean, sitting on the couch with my feet propped up. Dean scowled at me and kept pacing in front of Sam who was leaning against the counter. John was sitting at the table covered in papers, papers taped to one side of the wall to, and the colt protectively beside him.

"So this is it." John sighed from the table. "This is everything I know." He said, showing us the papers. "Look, our whole lives we have been searching for this demon." I straightened up. "Not a trace just...nothing. Until about a year ago, when I picked up a trail."

"And that's when you took off." Dean realized. And also when Dean came to track me down.

"The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation." John explained.

"So what's the trail?" I asked from my spot on the couch, picking at my nails.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California." John explained, flipping through a few papers. "Houses burned down to the ground." Like ours had been. "It's going after families just like it went after us." But what was so special about our family or the family of everyone else that had been attacked.

"Families with infants?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, the night of the kid's six month birthday." John said.

"So according to pattern...Sam was six months old that night?" I asked.

John nodded, "Exactly six months."

"So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason." Sam said quietly. "The same way it came for me?" I could practically hear the guilt in his voice. "So mom's death, Jessica...it's all because of me?"

"We don't know that Sam." Dean said quickly before he'd barely finished his sentence.

I sat up, putting my feet on the floor. "Of course it wasn't his fault." I said with a daring protective glare.

"Really? Cause I'm pretty sure it was." Sam snapped.

Dean clearly grew frustrated. "For the last time, what happened to them wasn't your fault."

"Right!" Sam started raising his voice to a shot that would probably give us a noise complaint later. "It's not my fault but it's my problem!"

"Your problem!" I demanded, standing up. "I thought it was ours! As in all of us and not just one!"

John stopped, "Okay, that's enough!" He shouted over us. "Everyone take a break and calm down."

"So whys he doing it?" Sam demanded. "What does he want?" That was the big question that we had to find out more than anything.

"Look, I wish I had more answers, I do." John said. "I've always been one step behind it." But at least he seemed to be closing in on it now after all this time. "Look, I've never gotten in there to save..." He stopped and looked down clearly unhappy about the whole thing.