Neil sat at a small desk in Dr. Mason's office on campus. It was dark when the hunters entered, illuminated by a desk light as he read a book. The young man looked anxious.

"What are you guys doing here?" Neil asked

"You know," Dean said "I've heard of people doing some pretty desperate things to get laid, but you - you take the cake."

"By the way, super gross man." Mae added.

"Okay. Who are you guys?"

"You might want to ask Angela that question."

"What?"

Sam's eyes narrowed as he spoke. "We know what you did. The ritual? Everything."

Neil scoffed. "You're crazy.

Dean leaned down to meet Neil's eye line. "Your girlfriend's past her expiration date and we're crazy? When someone's gone they should stay gone. You don't mess with that kind of stuff."

"Angela killed Matt. She tried to kill Lindsey." Sam said.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Mae clucked her tongue. "Sure you don't. Necrophilia is the natural step after the friend zone."

Dean however was done playing games and stomped over to the other side of the desk. He hauled Neil up by the collar. "Hey! No more crap, Neil. His blood is on your hands. Now. We can make this right, but you've gotta tell us where she is." His voice was low and steady before he raised it. "Tell us!"

"My house. She's at my house." He replied quietly.

Dean let go of his collar and he might have believed Nile but when he looked down, he noticed the plants by the window. They were dead and black. His attention turned back to Neil. "You sure about that?"

Mae wasn't certain if Dean had sacred the kid enough to confess to where he was keeping Angela, although chances were if she wasn't on the loose, she was here with him. He was certainly toot nervous and cagey to believe he had the situation under control.

Dean's eyes flicked away from the other man to the closet door. He thought a moment and he decided to take a shot that maybe that's where his zombie girlfriend was stashed. He raised his voice and moved to join Sam and Mae again. "Listen. It doesn't really matter where she is. There's only one way to stop her. We've got to perform another ritual over her grave, to reverse the one that you did. We're going to need some black root, some, some scar weed, some candles..." Mae and Sam exchanged a glance for a moment, not sure where Dean was going with this clearly made up ritual. "It's very complicated, but it'll get the job done. She'll be dead again in a couple hours. I think you should come with us." Dean spoke directly to Neil now, "I'm serious, Neil. Leave with us. Right now."

"No. No." Neil said.

Dean leaned in, lowering his voice. "Listen to me. Get out of here as soon as you can. But most of all, be cool. No sudden movements. Don't make her mad." he advised Neil, with a tight smile, "Let's go." He said to Sam and Mae.

They had done everything they could to set the trap. Hopefully what they had seen of Angela was proof that she was set on revenge and that she had over heard the plan to conduct a ritual to undo the original spell. At least they didn't have to dig up the grave again. Instead, they were lighting candles, mocking up the fake ritual.

"You really think this is going to work?" Sam asked.

"No, not really. But it was the only thing I could come up with."

They heard twigs snap, someone was approaching. Maybe an innocent civilian checking on what was clearly an weird scene they would need to explain. Maybe a zombie girl. They nodded to each other and fell into place. Sam stood, pulling out his gun. They separated to sweep the cemetery, in hopes of drawing her out and luring her back to her grave.

Sam walked cautiously in the direction of the sound. Some distance away, he heard something else behind him and froze. He waited as Angela advanced but at the last minute, he turned and pointed the gun at her. She stopped. "Wait! she pleaded, "It's not what you think. I didn't ask to be brought back. But it's still me. I'm still a person. Please."

Sam listened to her but shot anyway, hitting her square in the forehead. Angela screamed and her head snapped back. But the silver bullet only stopped her momentarily before her eyes turned angry and she started towards Sam. He ran, as quickly as he could away from her and back towards her grave. Angela grabbed his shoulder when she was closer enough, pushed him down and tackled him.

He landed hard on the ground and Angela climbed on top of him, then started to twist his head, trying to snap his neck. Dean was there however and shot her. The first shot caused her to roll off his brother. When she was on her feet, he shot her again. And again. Until she tumbled into the grave, into the open coffin.

Clear now from the zombie and Dean's line of sight, Mae ran from the other side of the cemetery, holstering her weapon to check on Sam.

Dean ran towards the open grave, slid in and pinned her into the coffin with a long metal stake. He drove it through her body. She screamed, "Wait, don't!"

He drove the stake in further with all his strength. She gasped one last time, then went limp. Dean pulled back, panting. "What's dead should stay dead."

They waited another 30 minutes, quietly. Making sure that she was dead dead. The woman didn't move again. Only then did they do their best to close the casket and fill the grave back in. This task too they carried out quietly. It was quicker if not easier with three people but the sun was up before the shoveled the last scoop of dirt and pat it down. They were all wiped out after that.

"Rest in peace." Sam said.

"Yeah. For good this time, okay?"

They turn away, heading for the car. Sam grunted as he lifted his shovel over one shoulder. "You know, that whole fake ritual thing, luring Angela into the cemetery? Pretty sharp."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, you're a clever boy Dean." Mae said, touching the small of his back gently, reassuringly.

"But," Sam continued, "did we have to use me as bait?"

"I figured you were more her type. You know, she had pretty crappy taste in guys."

"I think she broke my hand."

Dean laughed, "You're just too fragile. We'll get it looked at later."

Then, Dean paused for a moment and turned back to look at their mother's grave.

"You want to stay for a while?" Sam offered. Maybe his brother had changed his mind after everything.

"No."

In less than an hour, they had packed up their motel rooms, cleaned up, and were back on the road. Dean drove. Sam was in the passenger seat, and Mae dozed lightly in the back. Dean couldn't shake his mood. Even the normally soothing act of driving with no particular destination in mind, no where they needed to be, and nothing they needed to do did nothing to clear his thoughts. He wanted to ignore the way e was feeling an more importantly, he wanted to ignore the thought that he needed to talk to his brother.

Dean pulled the car across the road to stop in the opposite shoulder. The reduction in speed and change road surface caused Mae to stir. Dean was out of the car by the time she got her bearings. Cautiously, she watched Dean. Maybe it was car trouble of some kind, even though the newly rebuilt Impala seemed to be running as well as ever, if not better. Dean took a seat on the hood of the car. Mae considered joining him to see what was wrong but Sam got out first.

Mae didn't know if she should join the boys. It's not like they were in a private space and if Dean wanted to talk without her there, he certainly wouldn't do it feet away, with the window down. Still, she let the boys have their private moment.

"Dean, what is it?"

He paused. "I'm sorry."

"You - For what?"

"The way I've been acting." Sam also sat on the hood now. "And for Dad. I mean, he was your dad too. And it's my fault that he's gone."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you've been thinking it - so have I. Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. Back at the hospital, I made a full recovery. It was a miracle. And five minutes later Dad's dead and the Colt's gone."

"Dean."

"You can't tell me there's not a connection there. I don't know how the demon was involved. I don't know how the whole thing went down exactly. But Dad's dead because of me. And that much I do know."

"We don't know that. Not for sure."

"Sam ..." Dean didn't want the tears to gather in his eyes but he couldn't stop them, "You, Dad, Mae ... you're the most important people in my life. And now ... I never should've come back, Sam. It wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead. And I should have stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling. Well, that's it." Sam nodded and Dean continued, "So tell me. What could you possibly say to make that all right?"

They didn't talk much more as they drove to the next town. At one of their pit stops, Mae and Sam switched seats. Mae sat up front with Dean and slid over to the middle of the bench seat to rest he head on his shoulder. Her hand rested on his knee comfortingly. She didn't say anything; she was just there for him. It would have been foolish to believe that Mae hadn't over heard him. Although there was little he hadn't already told her when they were in private. Dean wasn't sure how she knew the right balance to strike with him but he did feel better with her there.

The woman didn't say anything, she didn't look at him with pity or even sympathy, just kindness and affection. He thought he should have felt awkward with her sometimes because he had never been with a woman who was just gentle with him sometimes. She didn't need help or saving and she wasn't interested in sex right then.

He considered getting a single room for himself and Mae. They'd already grown accustomed to sleeping in the same bed, and it was something he enjoyed more than sleeping alone. Having Sam with them would save him from having to say no if Mae wanted to get intimate; even though sex with Mae had become natural and pleasant, he didn't want her to think that's all he wanted from her and he didn't want to turn it down either.

Mae acted quickly, paying for one of the rooms. It wasn't an odd thing; whenever she could beat him to it she paid for her own room. He didn't quite understand why, but it seemed to bother her on some level when he paid for it. He admitted he felt uncomfortable too—if she paid for the room, she could decide who she shared it with. Would she choose to share it with someone other than him?

He realized this was an irrational fear: Mae had asked him to leave before when he footed the bill, and he had complied. Nothing bound them together aside from her own desire to be around him. If she decided she wanted him gone, she would have no problem leaving.

They walked back to the car. Dean passed a key to his brother as they got the rest of their things for the night out of the trunk. However, Dean paused once he closed and locked the car. He wasn't sure which room he should pick. On one hand, there was Mae He didn't think Mae would kick him out or send him away but she hadn't specifically invited him and he wasn't sure if he should join her.

"Are you shacking up with your brother tonight?"

"There's got to be a better way to say that."

She grinned. "Maybe but I'm not gonna use it."

"I-maybe."

He studied her expression but couldn't tell if she was amused or mad or hurt. She didn't look like she was any of those things but he would have been somewhere in there if she was changing up their standing arrangement.

"You okay Dean?"

"Yeah. Maybe."

"Okay well...tell me what you want because I don't want to guess and guess wrong."

"I don't need you to handle me. I'm not unstable or anything."

Dean's tone was annoyed, at least slightly. She knew he had been dealing with a lot of emotions but Mae wasn't sure why.

"I mean, arguably we're all a little unstable but outside of that baseline, I wasn't thinking that and I wasn't handling you. I just wanna know what you want. Listen it's not gonna hurt my feelings if you need to spend sometime with your brother, talk to him about something in private. I'm happy to hang out in my own room, naked, entertaining myself in all kinds of fun and innovative way."

Dean smirked and tipped his head to the side, a twinkle in his eye. His full lips curved up into a half smile as he let his eyes slide down her frame. "We'll put a pin in that."

"Oh, I'm not into that at all," Mae replied, giving him a coy look

"You think you're real funny, don't you?" Dean asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"I have my moments," she said with a shrug. Then her expression softened and she became serious. "But seriously, there's no wrong choice here."

Dean sighed and shook his head. A small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he ran a hand through his hair before finally speaking up. "Sammy's just gonna wanna talk more about... this."

His companion laughed lightly before replying, "We don't have to talk. I'm more than happy to get your pants off without a lot of discussion."

"Mae..."

She looked up at Dean with a challenging smile, "What, you don't want sex now?" Her eyes flickered in the dim light as his gaze stayed unmoving and fixed on her.

Realizing he was being serious, Mae's smile faded and she let out an bewildered sigh. "Really? Okay, well we sit fully clothed in complete silence."

Dean noticed a hint of sadness in Mae's face and he wanted to reassure her that it wasn't what he wanted, but he felt tired from the day and struggled to find the right words. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it again, unsure what to say.

Mae shrugged. "It's been a rough few days, okay? I wanna take off my boots, watch whatever stupid show is on, and sleep. It's nicer to do that with you but if that's not what you want, I'm not gonna fight about it."

Dean felt his tensions ease as Mae's words sunk in. He knew she was being as accommodating as possible and he was the one making too big a deal out of his own indecision. Taking a step towards her, he placed his lips on hers and murmured an apology before pulling away again. "I'm not looking for problems with you, you know?"

"I know," Mae said softly as their eyes met.

They didn't bother with gear this time, although they probably should have. They could do a more thorough maintenance rundown and stock supplies in the next day or two. For now, they intended to just unwind. Despite Dean's early protest that all his brother would want to do was discuss their dad's death, the toll it was taking on them, or his earlier confession, he was the first one to bring up something more than casual chit chat.

"Is Sam right?"

Mae shook her head at the absurdity of the question. "What?"

"Sam said I was... scaring him sometimes? Do I scare you?"

She paused for a long moment, considering how to respond carefully. Finally, she spoke. "Not most of the time. But there were a couple times when your anger seemed intense and personal, not just for show. I could see it in your eyes. The rest of the time, well, I don't totally understand why you're making the choices you are - one minute you're dead set on the idea that we need to be apart, the next you need us together all the time and can't stop touching me. Sam's right - you have been unpredictable."

"You know what I'm dealing with," he interjected.

Mae nodded solemnly. "I do. And I understand it. You know, Sam and I just want to see you... well, if not happy, we don't want to see you struggle. I want to help you."

There was a hint of desperation in his voice as he replied, "You can't."

"I think we can but I'm not gonna force it on you."

From the bed, Dean watched her as he pretended to watch TV. Mae's face looked drained of emotion; her slim shoulders were slumped and her brow was creased with worry as she pretended to read something on her laptop. She didn't click on anything and her eyes didn't really move. Dean barely had the energy to venture into another potential emotional minefield. But he didn't want them to go to be still upset. "What up with you Red?"

His voice shook her out of her thoughts. Mae took a long pause, examining his face for several moments. She curled her hands in her lap and sat up a little straighter. "I have to tell you something but I don't know if I should," she began hesitantly, "you'll be mad and...I don't know how you'll take it."

Dean's heart sank as dread pooled in his stomach. He hated it when Mae worried about his reactions to things instead of trusting him to handle whatever came their way. He reached out a hand, encouraging her to join him, and offered a gentle smile. "Mae, just tell me, okay? We've been mad with each other before. We'll deal with it. I'm too exhausted for another therapy session."

It wasn't as if she could not tell him now. "You're right," she said softly, "about your dad. I think...His death, the Colt, the demon."

Dean almost laughed in relieved disbelief and shook his head at her assumptions. "Yeah, I know. I told Sammy that."

"Well, yeah, I was eavesdropping," Mae said, "If you want to call it that. You were having that private conversation with your brother right in front of me with the windows open right in front of me."

Mae stayed in place, despite Dean reaching out for her. He gestured vaguely at her as he spoke, his voice softening but tinged with a hint of agitation at her concern over what was basically nothing. "It wasn't a secret. And I've told you a lot of that already. You can't have been worried about me being mad about that."

She shook her head slowly in reply, her gaze heavy with guilt. "No, I mean, you're right. I saw him that night. John was gathering all those supplies to summon the demon. And he made a deal with it."

Dean's expression darkened, the crease between his eyebrows deepening as he looked away for a split-second before turning back to her. "You saw him? You knew what he was doing and you didn't stop him? You didn't tell him to...not?"

Mae bit her bottom lip and hesitation hung in the air like smoke. She slowly shook her head again. "No, but there wasn't anything I could do, Dean. He's already made the deal by the time I got there. I don't know what exactly he agreed to either, just that the demon accepted it. Even if I had arrived sooner, how exactly do you think I could have talked him out of it?" Mae sighed deeply and looked away from him for a moment before continuing. "I don't know exactly what he gave the demon... but after you suddenly got better and John…didn't…I couldn't…"

He interpreted without waiting for her to finish speaking. "You kept this to yourself this whole time?" Confusion, pain and betrayal fought for dominance on his face with each passing second, until Mae spoke again.

"Dean," she said quietly, closing her eyes for a fraction of a second before meeting his gaze. "I-yeah, I kept it to myself because... what was I supposed to do? Your dad just died. Then we had that weird fight where you ended things and then it's not like we didn't have other things to deal with when we got back together and now here we are." She stopped, her chest rising and falling visibly faster now as she took a deep breath before finishing in a near whisper. "I...I just didn't know when I should tell you or even if I should tell you. I didn't know you were piecing it together already."

"I'm not stupid Mae," he retorted gruffly, although there was no heat behind his words as bitterness filled them instead.

Mae nodded in acknowledgement of his statement; misery flickering momentarily across her features before she continued softly. "I know you're not. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but..." Her voice trailed off as she searched for an answer that wouldn't come; only silence reigning until she finished quietly: "...I didn't know how to do it."

Dean closed his eyes. He believed her. Maybe he would have been more upset with her had he not put things together. Mae only confirmed his suspicions. He stood, stepped closer to her and then, reaching down to take her hand, pulled her up to stand close to her again. He understood why she might have worried he would be mad. Under different circumstances, he probably would have been. Hell, he wasn't sure if he was angry with her, with his father, or with himself.

His silence, his sorrow, his guilt all made her uncomfortable. She knew she couldn't fix it, she couldn't fix him. She couldn't stop herself from continuing. "I wasn't trying to keep it a secret, you know? But also, if you didn't know, if you hadn't already figured it out, what go would knowing this have done? Wouldn't it just have hurt you more? I don't even know if I should have told you now. I just...I hate seeing this tear you up and maybe knowing, I don't know, does it help? Should I have just kept my mouth shut?"

He opened his eyes, turned to her and wrapped his around around her waist. He pressed his face to the side of her neck. Without hesitation, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. She felt his lips move against her skin as he spoke. "No. I don't want to keep things from each other. But it's not like you telling me would have changed anything. I just-what the hell was he thinking?"

She felt a few tears fall against her shoulder. It broke her heart. "I think...the last year gave him time to think. I don't know what happened to him but, you know, everything seemed to weigh on him heavier. He seemed...weary. And maybe he realized he failed to give you the life you deserved and it was the only thing he could give you."

He raised his head to look at her now. "Did he tell you that?"

"No. I told you before; he asked me to trust him and asked me if I loved you. We didn't exactly have a heart to heart that night, or recently. But I'm not stupid either. He had everything he worked his whole life for, right there in that hospital. The demon, the gun... he coulda ended everything. And all it would have cost him was his life, yours, and Sam's. I think seeing you like that, knowing that he was responsible for it... he tried to do the only thing he could think of to try to make it better."

"It didn't. I've been living on borrowed time anyway M. It's not like I wasn't prepared to die, for anyone but, especially saving him or Sammy, or you. And I would have done whatever he told me, whatever he asked because...because I couldn't bare..." He sniffed, trying to hold back anything more but knowing he would fail, "I couldn't let him down. All I wanted was for him to be... for us all to be back together. We never should have- I didn't want this."

"I'm sorry Dean." She kissed his temple. "I wish there were something, anything I could say to make you feel better. But you're not what Neil made Angela. You weren't dead dead. You were..."

"Dying. You know how badly I was hurt Mae. And...on some level, I think I was ready to go. It wouldn't have been a meaningless death if it meant you could have taken out the thing that broke both out families."

Mae played with the short hair at the nape of his neck. "I know it's selfish but...I would trade that gun and that chance to take out the demon for you to live too."

"Would you have done this?"

"Make a deal with a demon? No."

"No? You know that without even considering it?"

She smiled sadly . "I helped bring you back once, at a cost you weren't happy about. But, I'll be honest, I thought about making the same deal I mean, a stranger's life was traded for yours, even knowing how you felt about it before. I wouldn't have thought twice about basically killing someone to keep you alive. But not having the excuse of not knowing this time stopped me. I knew you didn't want that, that it would torment you knowing. And I don't want to make you feel worse."

"Yeah."

He felt her fingers still in his hair. "Losing you would be hard for me, maybe impossible," she continued finally. "But guilt around being alive isn't something I want you to carry around." Her voice was heavy with emotion. "More importantly, I'd rather lose you than owe any part of myself to a demon, even my heart." He heard the determination behind her words and felt a mixture of sorrow and admiration for her strength. "Sorry," she added softly.

He looked away from her. A part of him was embarrassed by his outpouring of emotions. It was one thing around Sam, even his dad to an extent but it was different with a woman. It shouldn't have been. It was hardly the first time but there was something so caring and accepting about her that made it easy to fall apart when he wanted to show her that he could handle this.

His voice was weary and Mae knew what she shared did nothing to bring a measure of peace to the man. She reached up, tracing her fingers gently over his brow and hairline, which brought his gaze back to her. "Don't be," he said softly. "I appreciate that you wouldn't make a deal with a demon or murder for me. I'm not mad, okay?" He paused for a moment before continuing, "I don't know if you should have told me or not but I guess not wondering anymore is better."

"I could be wrong." She said, "he could have been..."

"Meeting for book club?" Dean offered when Mae couldn't think of something else his father had been up to when she found him. "C'mon Mae, you know what you saw. That demon is strong - you're probably lucky it didn't rip up your insides then and there."

She huffed out a small breath at the thought. "No, he told me he'd be seeing me again soon and that he regretted not having time to play 'terribly fun games' with me. Which- I've played those games and they're not remotely fun."

"He is a demon."

"All I'm saying is I don't think he wants to kill me, not right away anyway. He like to torture and toy with me. He likes to...make me bleed but not to death. All the same, I am sorry you're having to deal with this guilt. But, I think Sam would agree with this too, things are better with you here."