Sam, Dean and Mack walked up to a house all wearing FBI threads. Dean had put up a fight initially when Mack had walked out of the motel bathroom wearing a navy blue pantsuit and matching blazer with a nice white blouse tucked into the pants, but she had argued that she'd been hunting for a year without him and could help instead of sitting in the car like a baby. So, he had relented and let her tag along under the excuse that she was job shadowing for the day.

"Whoa, whoa, FBI?" a deputy asked when they walked up flashing their badges. "Yeah, happened to be in the neighborhood," Sam replied. "First a Texas Ranger, now you guys?" The Winchesters all stared at him in confusion. "Texas Ranger?" Dean echoed. "Yes, sir. Right over there." The deputy pointed to where Garth, a hunter that had helped them out on a couple odd cases, was standing interviewing a witness. He was wearing a cowboy hat and tasseled leather jacket. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Dean groaned. Garth took off his hat, fanning himself with it as they walked over.

"Hey, Chuck Norris," Dean got his attention. "Sam? Dean! Mckinley Grace!" Garth grinned. "Shh," Sam shushed him. Garth just laughed, hugging Sam. "Forgot he was a hugger," Sam muttered. "Come here!" Garth went for Dean next. "Alright. Okay," Dean rolled his eyes, accepting the hug. "Not me," Mack ducked away before Garth could get her. "We're still- we're working here," Dean reminded the other hunter. "Uh, you guys have no idea how much I missed you," Garth grinned. "Um, excuse us, would you," Mack told the witness.

"Yeah, we'll be right back," Garth added. He led the Winchesters a short distance away from the man. "A Texas Ranger, Garth? Seriously? We're in Missouri," Dean groaned. "What? Come on. I look like a funeral director in one of those," he indicated their FBI suits. "Wow. I heard some chatter you two were back in the batter's box, but I didn't believe it 'til now. Of course, I've been getting reports about Miss Mckinley Grace all year."

"It's Mack," Mack grumbled, glaring at him. Before they could continue, a cell phone played Kriss Kross' 'Jump'. Garth lifted his jacket to reveal three phones in separate pockets. "Oh, uh, one sec. Uh…" Garth answered one of the phones. "Yo, Earl. What you got? A revenant. Okay, uh, you'll need a casket and some silver spikes. Oh, and don't get bit. No, it won't turn you, but it will hurt like hell. Okay, so, once you got all that, nail that sucker in, bury him, and throw away the key. Okay? All right. Hasta." He hung up.

"What are you doing?" Dean demanded. "My job, hombre," Garth winked. "Your job?" Garth nodded, "Yeah." Dean blinked. "And since when is giving advice your job?" Sam piped up. "Hold up. Are you the new Bobby?" Dean looked at Sam like he was insane. "You shut your mouth," he pointed at his brother. "Yes," Garth answered. "You shut your mouth!" Dean repeated louder, pointing at Garth that time. "What?"

"Bobby was gone. You two were MIA. It was a weird time. Somebody had to step up and take the slack. Even threw Miss Mack a few cases." Mack scowled, but didn't protest his name for her again. "Alright," Garth clapped his hands together. "Let's get back to work, and we'll talk about this later, alright?" He walked away. "Did Garth just tell us what to do?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged and Mack rolled her eyes. Sam headed after Garth after a beat, but Dean grabbed Mack's arm before she could follow. "What?" she asked him.

"You took cases from Garth?" he asked. "Well, yeah. It's not quite the same as with Grandpa Bobby, but he does a good job, Dad. You should give him some slack." Mack pulled away from him, heading over to where Sam and Garth were interviewing the witness, and Dean stared after her slack jawed. After interviewing the witness, the victim's son, they investigated in the garage where the victim's wife killed him. Sam was on one knee using an EMF meter to scan the area. "No EMF. No traces of sulfur anywhere. Like I thought- bust."

"Hold on there, Sam," Garth spoke up. "There's a lot of things to factor in here. Uh, it happened last night, so the readings could be cold by now." Dean nodded, "Good point." Mack glared sidelong at him as Garth continued. "And, uh, even if there was any sulfur, Barney Fife and his crew probably contaminated the whole crime scene and any evidence that was here with it."

"Wow. He's on a roll," Dean muttered. "That's one word for it," Sam muttered back. Mack glared at both of them, but was ignored. "Uh, guys, I think I found something," Garth announced. He lifted his foot, which had green goo stuck to the bottom of his boot. "Is that gum or is that ectoplasm?" Dean asked. "Ectoplasm is usually black, right?" Sam pointed out. Garth touched the goo, putting it in his mouth. Sam and Dean grimaced. "Mm. Definitely ectoplasm," Garth confirmed. "So, what are we thinking- uh, some kind of ghost, right?" Dean snapped his fingers in confirmation.

One of Garth's phones played Kool Moe Dee's 'Wild Wild West' and he answered it. "Uh, Ranger Mcrae." Dean leaned in closer to Sam. "One of those things rings Hammer, I'm throwing down," he hissed. "Piss off, Dad," Mack snapped. Dean looked over at her in shock as Garth finished up talking to the coroner on the phone. "Oh, great. Okay. Okay," he wrote something on his palm. "Thanks, Doc." He hung up the phone. "Asked the coroner to drop me a line in case the autopsy turned up anything… unusual. And guess what. Our dead guy had the word 'Alcott'," he showed them the word on his palm, "carved into his chest."

"With what?" Mack asked. "Coroner's best guess?" Garth looked at her. "His wife Mary's fingernails."

Sam, Dean, Mack and Garth were in Mrs. Lew's hospital room. She was handcuffed to the bed and a sheriff was standing guard outside the door. "Mrs. Lew, can you tell us what happened?" Sam prompted her gently. "I was at the store getting groceries, and next thing I know, my son Scott finds me in the driveway. And Chester was…" she trailed off, giving a choked sob. "Do you remember anything at all about what happened? Um… Chester dying?"

"Not really. Bits and pieces, I guess."

Garth started to giggle, turning it into a cough when he looked over at Sam and Dean. "Such as?" Dean pressed. "I remember his screams… the smell of burnt rubber, and… I remember feeling so angry- just uncontrollable rage, like I wasn't myself. And after it was over, all that anger was- just gone." Garth cleared his throat. "Uh, ma'am, does the word 'Alcott' mean anything to you?" Mrs. Lew scowled, clenching a hand into a fist and tugging at her handcuff. "What does she have to do with anything?" she asked. "It's a she?" Mack asked. Mrs. Lew nodded, "My husband, Chester, and I were going steady in high school for a few years already when we had a big fight."

"What about?" Dean questioned. "Something stupid, I'm sure," Mrs. Lew shrugged. "It was around prom, and so he took Sara Alcott as his date instead of me." Garth nodded, "So, this Sara Alcott was a rival for your husband's affections?"

"Sara had one night with him, whereas I was with Chester for thirty-seven years," Mrs. Lew started crying again. "Of course, right," Sam assured her. "Sure. Um, just one more question. Um… Is… Ms. Alcott still alive?" Mrs. Lew nodded, "As far as I know, yes."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Lew," Dean told her. They exited her room, heading out toward the Impala. "Let me get this straight. This poor guy goes to prom with some girl over thirty years ago, and because of that, he is now a pancake?" Dean asked. "I mean, if this is a ghost, maybe it's some sort of possession?" Sam suggested. "What are you talking about? You heard her. Alcott's alive."

"Well, we're definitely gonna wanna talk to her," Mack said. Again, Dean gave his daughter a look, which she pointedly ignored. "Yeah, sounds like a plan," he muttered. "Did we eat yet?"

They headed to a bar, sitting in a booth together and ordering food. Sam and Dean sat next to each other and Mack and Garth sat across from them. Dean kept giving Mack looks across the table as he chowed down on a burger. Sam had gotten a chicken salad, Mack had gotten a burger like her father and Garth had ordered… what looked like everything on the menu. The waitress came over with more food for Garth. "There you go," she said. "Mm. Thanks. Keep 'em coming," Garth told her. "Alright," she walked away. "So, Dean, give me the skinny," Garth said with his mouth full. "Where were you this past year?"

"Why don't we save what I did on my summer vacation for another time?"

"Aw, come on," Garth protested. "Alright. I was in Purgatory." Garth blinked. "Like the Purgatory Purgatory?" Dean stared at him. "No, the one in Miami," he deadpanned. "Man, that's balls," Garth muttered, eating another bite. Mack wrinkled her nose, glancing at Garth sidelong as she ate her burger. "That's not how you say 'balls'," Dean said. "So, how'd you get out?" Mack stopped eating, looking up at her dad and Sam made a show of looking at Dean as well. Dean avoided the question by looking over at a Confederate flag on the wall. "What's up with all the, uh, hillbilly hankies?" he changed the subject. "These people know the Civil War's over, right?"

"Mm, that's a touchy subject around these parts," Garth replied with his mouth full. "See, Missouri was a border state. So, half the men were Confederate, the other half were Union." Sam frowned, "How do you know all this?" Garth finished off what was on his plate and pulled another one toward himself. "I went to college," he answered. "You went to college?" Sam and Dean were both gaping at the hunter openly. "Yeah. College, and on to dental school."

"What, you- you were a dentist?"

"Yeah, just for, like, a hot minute. Where'd you think I got my first case?" Dean smirked, only half joking as he said, "Let me guess- Tooth Fairy." Garth put his fork down, looking sullenly at the table. "Yeah. Man, I felt terrible ganking that SOB." Dean's smirked faded, blinking at Garth in surprise. Beside Garth, Mack just continued eating her burger like none of what they were saying phased her. "Uh, you killed the Tooth Fairy?" Sam asked, as surprised as Dean was. "Yeah, man," Garth nodded. "I mean, not my proudest moment, but it happened. Mm. Man, this is good." He went back to eating his food.

Scott Lew had killed someone in a convenience store. The ghost was definitely involved somehow because Garth stepped in some more of the green ectoplasm. He had swapped out his cowboy hat for an old, vaguely familiar looking ball cap. "Hey, what'd the cops say?" Sam asked as he and Mack were walking over. "Aw, come on," Garth groaned, scraping the ectoplasm off his shoe. "Not much," Mack answered over him. "Uh, Scott insisted he wasn't in control of himself. Says all he remembers is red-hot rage." Dean had his eyes narrowed, first studying his daughter and then focusing on the old ball cap on top of Garth's head.

"So, what is this, some- some kind of family curse?" Sam queried. Mack shrugged. "Is that Bobby's hat?" Dean snapped. "Oh, yeah. Sure is," Garth answered, adjusting the cap on his head. "We worked a rugaru case together a few years back. He left it in my car, so I kept it as a…" Dean snatched the hat off his head, "... memento. What are you doing?"

"That's not how you wear it," Dean snarled, sticking the hat in his jacket pocket. He didn't miss how Mack rolled her eyes at him, but before he could comment on it, a deputy walked over and interrupted them. "Gentlemen, Miss, surveillance is up, but something is all screwy with it." Intrigued, they followed the deputy into security, watching the footage of Scott stabbing Jeff with a shovel. Scott's head was obscured by a white light and a white bar covered part of the screen. "Must be the camera," the deputy shrugged.

"Yes, thank you, there, deputy," Mack smiled at him. He nodded, leaving them alone. Glancing at Mack sidelong, Dean spoke. "You guys see that head? Ever seen anything like that before?" Sam and Garth both shook their heads. "Like that? No way," Garth voiced. "So?" Sam asked, looking over at his brother. "So…" Dean trailed off. "So, I'm thinking we need to find Sara Alcott," Garth said. "I found her, although these days, she goes by Sara Brown."

"How about this?" Sam suggested. "Kinley and I will go check her out, and you two see what you can find out about Sussex." Mack opened her mouth to protest, but Garth was already agreeing. Dean also agreed, though he looked less than happy about it, so she had no choice but to nod and go along with the plan. So, she reluctantly followed Sam out to the Impala. They started the drive in awkward silence. "Kinley, I'm sorry," Sam finally spoke. "I- I should have helped you this past year, shouldn't have let you go off on your own." Mack glanced at her uncle sidelong. "Whatever," she shrugged. It fell silent again as they pulled up outside the house.

"Hey, what's with the attitude?" Sam asked her before they could climb out of the car. "Are you purposely trying to piss off your dad?" Mack snorted. "This is just how I am now, Sam. I've been hunting for a year. You should know better than anyone that that changes a person." Sam frowned over at his niece. He did know, and perfectly understood that hunting changed a person. But it wasn't supposed to change her. Mack was supposed to be innocent, to be a child for longer. She wasn't supposed to go off by herself and be hardened by the cruel nature of the monster world. She was ten, for crying out loud.

"Alright, are we gonna go interview this woman, or do you want to keep sitting here having an awkward heart-to-heart?" Mack asked him. After a beat of silence in which Sam was unable to form an answer, Mack went ahead and climbed out of the car without him, walking around the Impala to start heading up to the house. He quickly climbed out and rushed after her, easily catching up with his longer legs. She was taller than most kids her age, which he supposed helped her give the illusion that she was older than she was when pretending to be a fed, or at least job shadowing a fed. Sam knocked on the door.

At the motel room, Garth and Dean were sitting at the table. Garth was reading a journal while Dean was on the laptop and drinking a beer. Garth reached for a beer for himself, but Dean blocked him. "Easy there, flyweight. Last time you drank a beer, I had to pick you up off the floor." Garth smirked at him, "You're such an idjit." Dean glared. "Idjit's supposed to be used angrily. Okay? Not happy. If you're gonna butcher it, don't say it at all." Garth's smile dropped and his eyebrows raised "Whoa, then. Okay. N-none of my business, but… this have anything to do with you and… Sam?"

"No, you had it right. It's none of your business."

"Okay," Garth nodded. "It just seems that you guys are a little tense around each other. Plus, I suppose Mckinley Grace isn't helping by giving you lip." Dean's glare went from annoyed to murderous. "Everything's fine. Can we get back to work?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Alright. Just, uh- just letting you know that I'm here for you, for anything. I know sometimes Bobby, he would-" That was the last straw, making Dean blow up. "You're not Bobby!" he yelled. "Okay? You're never gonna be Bobby, so stop!" For the first time ever, Garth displayed emotion other than his easy, carefree self, tears springing to his eyes as he snapped back at Dean. "Bobby belonged to all of us, Dean- not just you, Sam and Mckinley. Now, I'm just taking what he showed me and trying to do something with it. That's all!" Taken aback by the sudden outburst from the other hunter, Dean deflated, taking a second before addressing him more softly.

"Why don't you see if you can find something in that bourbon-drenched book of his so we can get the hell out of Dixie, alright?" Garth nodded, pulling the journal closer to him. "Yeah. I'm on it." Dean refocused on the computer screen, finally finding what he wanted. "Hey. 'Sussex' is not a who, it's a what. It's a business that went belly-up about a year ago. Look at this." He turned the laptop to face Garth, which showed an article about the bankruptcy of Scott Lew and Jeff Bult's tire company. "So, the guy that Scott brained? His old business partner- ran the company into the ground."

"So, Scott had beef with Jeff," Garth summarized. "Looks like," Dean nodded, his phone ringing. "Hey, you're on speaker," he said, setting the phone on the table. "Sara Alcott's clean," Sam said, "if you look past the fact that she and Chester knocked boots on prom night back in the day." Dean frowned, "Okay, so… Mary has a grudge against Sara, and Scott has a grudge against Jeff. Besides the fact this is making my head hurt, how does this add up to a ghost?"

Garth looked up from Bobby's journal. "Guys! Bobby has it right here. Green goo equals specter." Mack's voice carried through the phone. "Which equals ghost, right?" Garth nodded, "Mm, yeah, kind of. A specter is an avenging ghost. It, uh- it possesses you and finds out whatever betrayals you're feeling and acts on them."

"Bobby say anything in there about how we hunt these things?" Sam asked. "Uh, the last specter he encountered rose shortly after someone desecrated a nearby grave," Garth explained, using the laptop to search the Federal Criminal Database. "Which… Uh, there was a grave desecrated locally three days ago. It says here… Oh. This could get awkward."

"What?" Dean and Mack chorused.

Turned out, the grave that had been desecrated was the tribute to the Unknown Soldier. The grave was guarded during the day, only ceremonially, but wasn't after dusk. So, they returned to the grave after dark. The Winchesters and Garth entered the tomb. "Place doesn't look disturbed to me," Sam said. "What's the police report say?"

"Uh, they think it was just some kids messing around. They, uh- they found some beer cans, some graffiti. Oh, and the casket was open when they got here, but they closed it back up," Garth replied. "Yeah, but not before Casper had the chance to make a run for it," Mack quipped. "So, what? If they never touched this, none of this would be happening?" Sam asked. "Yeah, according to Bobby," Garth nodded. "Alright, well, let's get this party started," Dean said. Mack crouched down on the floor, picking up a thin cord from the ground, frowning.

"Mckinley, move," Dean snapped at her. She stood up, getting out of the way so that the other three could push the lid off the casket. Inside, the skeleton wore a uniform and was carrying a gun and sword. "Whoa. Check out this hardware," Garth raised his eyebrows. "Do you guys know how much this is worth?"

"Yeah, but why open it up if you're not gonna take anything?"

"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "Maybe the cops showed up and they had to split fast." Mack cleared her throat, "Or they took the one thing the ghost was attached to." She held up the cord for them to see. "A piece of string?" Dean raised an eyebrow at her. "It was on the floor," she shrugged. "So? Doesn't mean it came from the remains. Let's just torch the sucker and move on."

"You sure this will work, even on a specter?" Garth asked as Mack glared at her father. "It's a ghost, isn't it?" Dean shrugged. "You burn its bones, the ghost disappears." Sam poured lighter fluid into the casket and Dean prepared to set it alight. "Alright." Mack was still glaring at him. "Alright. Alright. Alright," Garth echoed. "Uh, I kind of feel like we should say something, alright? Don't you? Just… a little…" Sam and Dean looked at each other. "Sure. We won," Dean said, dropping the match and setting the bones ablaze.

"I told you!"

"Oh, my God. Shut up," Dean groaned. Mack glared at her father as they stood in the sheriff's office. One of the deputies killed the sheriff after getting into Scott's things in the evidence lockup, and there was green goo on the sheriff's desk. "I told you they took something from the gravesite!" Mack continued on. "But did you listen to me? Nooo." Dean groaned, rounding on his daughter. "Seriously, shut up. We can argue about this later." Mack rolled her eyes, following him, Sam and Garth into the cell block where the deputy was being held.

"Alright. We need you to focus, Deputy," Sam told him. "Other lives depend on it. Tell me what happened after you shot the sheriff." Deputy Wallace frowned. "I was on the ground. I think Karl tackled me, and I asked him what happened."

"And?"

"He didn't answer me. He just took my gun and walked away." That wasn't good. "Did he say where he was going?" Dean pressed. "I guess… I must have hurt him, too. He said he was going to the hospital." The Winchesters and Garth exited the cell block. "Alright, you guys find out what you can on the unknown soldier. I got the hospital," Dean told the other three. "You need backup, Dean," Sam protested. "Figure it out. But I'm leaving now." Dean started to walk away. Sam and Garth both looked at Mack. "Ugh, fine," she grumbled, hurrying after her father. He barely glanced at her as they got out to the Impala and climbed in.

When they got to the hospital, Dean parked behind Karl's sheriff's vehicle. After glancing in the open driver's side window on the other car, Dean headed toward the entrance of the hospital. When Mack finally caught up, it was to find Dean and Karl fighting. The deputy was holding Dean by the throat. "Karl, listen, I know the specter's turning the temperature up in there," Dean said. "So just tell me what the object is, and we'll send this joker home."

"I don't think so. There's unfinished business. Thanks to you," Karl said, then sniffed Dean. Mack wrinkled her nose. "Oh, the specter likes you," Karl smirked. "Oh, yeah? Why don't you tell him to come on out here and we'll make promise bracelets." Karl flung Dean onto and over the reception desk. "Hey!" Mack yelled. Karl turned, distracted from her father. Mack froze, rooted in place as Karl smirked at her. He advanced on her and she started to back up. "Oh, come on, little lady. Don't be shy." Karl grabbed her arm, forcing her to her knees, and she yelped at his tight grip. "Here. Have a taste."

He pressed a penny with a hole drilled through it into her palm. The second he no longer had the penny, Karl fell back, a stunned look on his face. Mack slowly stood up, turning her focus toward Dean, who had stood up behind the desk. "Easy, bug," he told her, coming around the desk. "How about you give me that penny so we can get rid of it, and then we can talk, huh?" Mack pulled out a gun Dean didn't even know she had been carrying, pointing it at him. "You should have taken me more seriously earlier," she spat. "I know," he swallowed, holding out his hands placatingly. "I was wrong, and I'm sorry for that. How 'bout you put the gun away and we get rid of that penny together, alright?"

"That's not even the worst part," she continued, ignoring him. "You disappeared for over a year, and when you finally show up again, instead of bringing Cas back with you, you brought back a damn vampire." Dean flinched, glancing briefly over Mack's head at Sam and Garth, who'd just walked in, before focusing on her once more. "I'm sorry, bug," he told her. "Kinley?" Sam called out hesitantly. "Kinley, put the gun down." She rounded on him, pointing the weapon at him instead. "Don't get me started on you," she growled, glaring at him. "Instead of helping me try and find a way to get Dad and Cas back, you let me go off alone. You didn't even bother trying to go after me when I walked out."

"I know," Sam nodded. "I'm sorry, Kinley."

"That's not Mckinley, guys," Garth said beside Sam, reaching for his belt for a weapon. "Don't," she snapped at him and he froze. "Mack, please," Dean begged, moving around to stand with Sam and Garth. "We know we messed up. We're both sorry, for everything. But you need to put the gun down before someone gets hurt." Mack clenched her jaw, eyes flashing with anger. "Messed up? You didn't mess up, you chose to do those things. You chose to let Benny live. Sam chose to not help me look for you all that time."

"Guys-" Garth started again. "Shut up!" Mack yelled at him. "You're right, Kinley," Sam nodded. "We did make those choices, but we're trying now."

"He's not," Mack scowled at her father. "He's still treating me like I don't know what I'm doing. Like I didn't spend the last year hunting on my own." Sam glanced at Dean sidelong. "I'm just trying to keep you safe," Dean defended himself. "You're still a kid, bug. My kid. I care about you."

"I can take care of myself!"

"I know you can, but that doesn't change the fact that I will always do whatever it takes to protect you," Dean tried reasoning with her. "That's my right as your dad, and nothing will ever change that." He took a step forward, getting closer to her and pushing the gun down. Sam also stepped forward, trying to help Dean disarm her. With the ghost possessing her, Mack managed to fight them back, using more strength than she normally possessed to send them sprawling to the floor. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!," Garth cried, getting between her and the brothers. "Garth, don't!" Sam cried.

"No, she won't kill me," Garth said confidently. "Her beef isn't with me. You're not gonna shoot me, are you Mack?" She pointed the gun at him. "Move," she growled. "Come on, Mack. You don't want to kill your dad and uncle. You- you care more about them than anyone else in the world. Don't hurt them now."

"They both abandoned me for a year!"

"Alright, alright. Maybe they did, but it wasn't their fault. They both had their reasons." Sam and Dean had gotten to their feet. "Just like you had your reasons for running away from Lisa and Ben's," Dean jabbed. "What?" Garth asked, looking over his shoulder at Dean. "I hated it at Lisa and Ben's! And you would have known that if you had just talked to me, instead of checking out of my life and getting drunk every day."

"I know you're angry," Garth jumped in again, forcing Mack to focus back on him. "But, Mack, you got to fight this thing. Do not do this! Just let it go. Come on, Mckinley." She ignored him. "Goodbye, Dad. Sam." She tried to push past Garth to get to them, but Garth punched her, forcing her to drop the penny. "Ow. God!" Garth cried, shaking his hand, before reaching down and picking up the penny. "Garth, don't!" the brothers chorused. "It's cool. It's all good. I'm cool."

Mack reached up, touching the black goo on her ear from the specter possessing her, avoiding both Sam and Dean's eyes as Garth looked down at the penny in his hand.

"Hey, Kinley," Sam murmured softly. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. Dean had headed out to see Garth off. "Do you wanna talk about it?" She slowly raised her gaze to meet his, tears in her eyes. "W-why didn't you help me, Uncle Sammy? W-why'd you r-run off and quit instead?" Sam swallowed, taking a seat beside her. "I don't know," he admitted. "I, uh, I guess I was grieving… didn't think there was any point in trying to get your dad and Cas back. I know it was wrong, but that was just how I chose to cope."

"I- I'm sorry," she gasped as she started crying openly. "I'm sorry, too," he answered. She turned her head, burying her face in his side. He wrapped his arms around her, rocking her gently while she sobbed. Dean came in a minute later to grab their bags and leave, but paused when he saw them. He and Sam made eye contact and then they traded off, Sam allowing him to take the crying child while he loaded the car. Dean pulled Mack onto his lap, and she fisted her hands in his shirt. "I- I'm sorry, D-Daddy," she sobbed.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, pressing his lips to her head. "I got you, it's okay."