So I told Will and he was taking it… well, let's just leave it at that. He was taking it. I sighed as I rubbed my scalp, which was still giving me random pangs every so often. But nonetheless it was healing nicely; Bobby had taken the stitches out a while ago. I knew it would leave a huge scar, but thankfully no one had mentioned it of yet.

But enough about my souvenir from a Wendigo.

"Hey, how's it going with Will?" asked Dean after he got back from some convenient store.

"He's outside breathing into a paper bag," I said bluntly.

"That bad?" He asked.

"Yeah," I nodded, "That bad."

He made a hmmm noise and handed me a bag of Funyuns, I took it and opened it.

"Well, what'd you tell the guy?" he asked.

"The truth," I answered grabbing a handful f Funyuns and sticking them in my mouth, "As much as I didn't want to, whether or not we saved him, the thing's still after him. Better to tell him what to watch out for."

"Well, then what the heck are we going to do with him?" He asked opening a beer.

I shrugged, "That depends, I don't want him involved, but at the same time, it's up to him. You know, free will and all that jazz? Though my bet is that he's gonna run home like a sissy."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, he's a plot device. You know that character that always dies in the first twenty minutes?" I asked, "He's one of them. Though, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is real life, and the people aren't really based on archetypes… well some are."

"Archetypes?" He asked confused before taking a drink.

"You know, the Chosen One, the Trickster, the "Evil Overlord", the Anti-hero, and so on…" I trailed off, "In every episode there's always this one idiot or "Victim" that dies in the first fifteen minutes."

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked.

"Outside trying to calm said plot device down," I told him shoving another handful of Funyuns in my mouth.

Well to my surprise, Will insisted on helping us. I decided to stop calling him "Plot Device" in my head, and just call him Will. I still wasn't happy that he decided to help though…

Because honestly? Hunting changes you, it's a job that shakes you to your core. I was just lucky it hadn't happened to me yet. Though I know it will, it'll change me, just like it will Sam and Dean… and that scares me sometimes. It's almost surreal to be with them when they thought a demon wasn't a "normal gig", and not when they had an angel up their sleeve and went out for drinks with the king of hell.

"So I guess we can rule out Nessie," Sam joked.

Will's eyes widened, "The lockness monster is real?!"

I shook my head, "No, it's one of the things that's just a myth… lots of stuff is real though."

"Definitely," Dean nodded. "It's not a creature. We're dealing with something else."

"Like what?" Will asked eyes widening.

Dean shrugged, "I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."

"The lake," Sam nodded.

Will looked super freaked.

"Congratulations, how long did it take you to figure that out?" I asked my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You know what, we can't all know the future like you do." Dean was slightly irritated.

"Well excuse me, this is what annoys me about this season. Stating the obvious all the time, it made sense for the show since it was just starting out and viewers were clueless, but what doesn't make sense is when it's the real world, and you've been raised like this and still feel the need to state the obvious," I retorted. "By the way, you can take Water wraiths and Demons off the table."

"Anyway," Sam said. "Since it's in the lake, that'd explain why it's upping the body count The Lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time."

Dean nodded, "And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere."

"Is it a ghost?" Will asked.

"I think so," I told him.

"Then why don't you say anything?" Dean asked irritated.

I shrugged, "Wibbley-Wobbley, timey-whimey."

Dean huffed and started pacing, "This is gonna happen again."

"We do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton," Sam reasoned.

"Obviously, it took one of his kids and tried to take the other one too," I told them, "If this isn't premeditated then I don't know what is."

"And I've been looking around, and Lucas's dad, Chris—Bill Carlton's godson," Sam told us.

"Let's go pay Mr. Carlton a visit," Dean said.

"Ok," Will nodded.

I shook my head, "Nope, you aren't going anywhere near that lake. The thing is still after you."

Whether or not it happened this time around, I wasn't going to even take the chance. Knowledge or not, he was still a civilian, hunting changes you, some times for the worst, sometimes for the better. It's a job that shakes you to your core. I'm just lucky it hasn't happened to me yet.

Though I know it will, I mean with everything that's going to happen? There's no doubt about it. It will either make me or break me. That's what I like best about the boys in this season, they haven't seen the horrors that, say, season three, or season four Winchesters have.

Never mind the fact that the ghost really is still after him.

I sighed. The boys looked at me in question.

Bill Carlton was sitting on the bench on the dock.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam asked.

Bill looked up as we approached, "Is Will ok?"

"He's fine," I nodded.

"Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning—we think there might be a connection to you or your family," Sam told him.

Bill shook his head, he was ordering us to leave like in cannon, but his eyes were distraught and angry, even though he had no specific emotion, "No, I've never seen anything."

He said nothing to the second part. He just stared out at the lake; "Leave please? I can't- I can't…" He trailed off unable to speak.

Nodding, we started walking towards the car.

"What do you think?" Sam asked.

"Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell," Dean said, but as he was going to continue, I cut him off.

"He's hiding something," I stated.

Sam leant up against the impala, "So what now?"

Dean went still.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"He's got an idea," I told him I didn't know the next line, but I knew that look.

"What she said, maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something."

Dean pulled out the picture Lucas had drawn; it was off the Carleton house. He stared at it, pondering his thoughts. It was an awesome drawing for an eight year old, I briefly thought.

After that we went back to the motel to check on Will, who was fine, then we decided to head to Andrea's so Dean could talk to Lucas.

"I'm sorry," Andrea apologized. "But I don't think it's a good idea," She said worrying. I guess I would be to if three strange "Federal wildlife officers" showed up at my door saying my son was involved in a case, and could possibly have the knowledge that might solve the case. Yeah, no, I couldn't blame her.

"I just want to talk to him," Dean told her reassuringly.

We made our way into the house as Dean was talking to her, with me behind Sam, Dean in front of both of us.

"He won't say anything. What good would it do?" She asked confused.

"Andrea, we think more people might get hurt." Sam said urgently turning towards her, "We think something's happening out there."

"My husband, the others, they just drowned. That's all," But she said this like she was trying to convince herself instead of us.

"If that's what you really believe, then we'll go." Dean told her earnestly, his eyes doing that shiny sparkly thing. "But if you think there's even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let me talk to your son."

She reluctantly agreed, and led us upstairs to Lucas's room.

Lucas sat on the floor coloring intently, army men stood scattered around him. We approached the doorway, and Dean walked over and crouched by Lucas, who didn't respond.

"Hey Lucas, you remember me?" Dean asked smiling slightly.

Lucas just continued drawing his picture of the red bicycle.

'Red bicycle, red bicycle… OH! I know who the ghost is now!' I realized with a start. Sam, seeing the expression on my face looked at me questioningly.

'Later,' I mouthed to him. Even if I knew who the ghost was now, that brought up another problem. I knew it's motivation, what its end game was, and exactly how the hell do you get rid of a ghost who can't be salted and burned? I pulled out my phone, entered the password, and pulled up Google.

Nothing. Well nothing useful at least, nothing but old wives tales, urban legends, and hippie herb stuff. To sum it up, nothing real.

Andrea looked curiously at my phone, "Hey what is that?"

"Huh?" I asked looking up. "Oh sorry, it's a phone," I told her, and then threw in a lie, "It's provided especially by HQ, it's not available to the public."

She nodded, seeming to except my answer. She turned her attention back to Dean and Lucas, and I did the same.

"—I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that every day. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe, your dad wants you to be brave too," He told the boy encouragingly.

Lucas dropped the crayons and slowly looked up at Dean, and handed him the drawing that solved the case in the end.

Dean smiled, "Thanks Lucas."

If this were an episode on TV, this is when music would play and the camera would pan out and cut to a commercial. Instead we just said goodbye and hopped in the impala. That's the problem with real life, there's no soundtrack. I'd have to get used to that one, which sucks.

Sam looked quizzically at the drawing.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died." Dean commented.

"There are cases—going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies," Sam told him.

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please," Dean snapped before turning his head back to look at me, "Got anything to add?"

"It's a ghost," I told him, "But I have no idea how we're going to get rid of it."

"Obviously you salt and burn the bones," Sam told me.

"Yeah, obviously, but what if there's no bones to burn?" I retorted.

"All right, we got another house to find," Sam huffed.

"The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Dean said.

I huffed, "You find the church, you'll find the house."

He nodded, and drove in silence for a while.

That was until Sam spoke up.

"You know, um..." he paused trailing off, "What you said about mom… you never told me that before.

Dean shrugged, "It's no big deal."

I let out a little fangirl noise, it wasn't happy or sad, honestly I didn't know what it was. I guess it was the equivalent of smashing on a keyboard. Because honestly? No words. I might be a Sam girl but I have a soft spot for Dean as well, and I have the right to fangirl. People in the fandom would literally kill to be where I am.

Dean made a noise of disgust, "Oh God, we're not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?"

I smirked, "Not right now, I'm gonna hit you with one when you least expect it."

Dean snorted.

So we drove, trying to find the church. Suddenly I was hit with a bolt of inspiration, "Hey, I think I got an idea."

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"In the original episode you find that red bike, but by then the ghost has achieved it's goal, and for some reason you never thought to burn the bike… but you have me now. why don't we find the bike and burn it? It's worth a shot," I offered.

"Why? You think the bike could be tying the ghost here?" he asked.

"It's possible, that bicycle was mentioned or hinted at so much in this episode it was like a motif," I told them.

"Motif?" Dean asked.

"Ask Sam, he went to college," I told him.

"A motif is a recurring subject, theme, or idea, mostly used in literature," Sam told Dean.

"Hmm… So, we find the bike and burn it," Dean decided.

I nodded, "Yup."

Here we stood, Dean comparing the drawing to the scene in front of us. It was identical, but that was no surprise. Even though I didn't spend as much time on this season, I still knew roughly what happened.

"This is the place," Dean announced.

"The sky is blue, gas prices are going up, and Bert and Ernie are gay," I announced straight faced.

They both looked at me like "What the fuck?"

"What?" I smirked, "I thought we were stating the obvious."

"Seriously?" Dean said throwing me an annoyed look.

"Not good?" I asked playfully, taking a page out Sherlock's book.

Sam rolled his eyes; I threw him a wink, he just sighed exasperatedly.

We walked to the house, and Dean knocked on the door, making that nice noise of knuckles on a wooden door. The house I lived in growing had a glass door, and the trailer I had lived in until I had got angel zapped into "Wonderland" had a screen door… why am I thinking about doors again?

Focus!

The door opened revealing an old woman.

"Can I help you?" She asked quietly.

"We're sorry to bother you, ma'am—but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle. " Dean questioned.

She looked down sadly, eyes haunted, "No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now."

She stared at the picture on the side table, and sighed, "The police never—I never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared."

Sam and Dean had one of those silent conversations while I listened.

"Loosing him… it's… it's worse than dying," she choked.

"Did he disappear from here? Like in this house?" Dean asked. I knew he probably knew it wasn't the case by now, but I guess he thought he needed to cover all the bases.

She shook her head, "He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up."

"Did he ever go to the lake?" I asked.

"Um… sometimes," she nodded, "But everyone goes to that lake."

Dean picked up a picture from the mirror and scanned it, it was a picture of two boys, one of them being Peter with the bicycle. He made a "Hmmm" noise and flipped it over to read the back.

"Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy," he read.

Bill was sitting on the dock talking to himself, or the lake. If anyone ever saw this though they wouldn't know which.

"You just won't stop will you? First my daughter, now you try and take my son, and you aren't going to stop, are you? I didn't understand… I didn't believe, but now I think I do, and I think I know what you want."

With a click Dean dropped the match on to the bike we had covered in lighter fluid. Somehow it lit right away, the fire flickering steadily. I stared at the flames that were warming my face.

"I'll never get used to this," I commented.

"What Salt and Burns?" Sam asked questioningly.

"No, this place! It's similar yet so different," I mused.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"It just hasn't sunken in, that this is real," I told them, "You know? You're real! The Winchesters, in the flesh! It's kinda…" I trailed off trying to think of the words, "Surreal."

"I should think it's a dream come true, but… it's not all sunshine and daisy's," I mused.

"True that," Dean snorted.

I chuckled, "Hah, this a show full of tears, and man pain, I tell you… and that's why we love it so much."

"You like to watch other people suffer?" Dean asked raising an eyebrow. It was amazing how quickly the atmosphere changed. One minute light and joking and then the next was serious and tense.

"Oh no! I didn't mean it like that." I corrected quickly.

"Then how did you mean it?" Sam asked crossing his arms.

I sighed. "It's complicated to explain."

"Then uncomplicate it." Dean pressed.

"Okay…" I struggled to find words to express myself properly. "We don't like the pain and suffering per se. We like how you two deal with it...you catch my drift?"

Sam and Dean stared at me blankly.

"Well I guess you wouldn't get it. Not yet at least." I reasoned.

"What's that supposed to mean? What's going to happen? Is there gonna be a lot of pain and suffering?" With each question Dean asked the more agitated he became.

At that moment we heard the revving of an engine coming from the lake. We spun around to find the source and we found Bill sitting in a motor boat cutting through the water of the lake.

"No," I whispered. "No no no no! We burned the bike this shouldn't be happening!" I cried running towards the dock.

"Beca! Wait!" I heard the boys call after me. I ran until I came to the edge of the dock.

"Bill! Come back! It's not safe out there!" I screamed out to him. Two pairs of feet thundered against the wooden dock and came to stop behind just as a massive burst of water threw the boat into the air.

I yelped in shock as Bill was thrown into the water and disappeared under the black waves. I went to throw myself into the lake before a pair of hands pulled me back.

"It's too late!" Sam warned keeping me from the edge. "It's too late." He said again softly as the boat too became submerged.

"Oh my god!" I cried putting my hand against my mouth.