~*****~

"Excuse me, can we borrow your phone book, sir?" I ask softly after Sam and I enter a gas station. He nodded and handed it over. "Thank you!" I hurried over to Sam, and cracked it open. "Here, here, write this down-" Sam scrawled down the address to our new motel and I handed it back to the old man. "Thanks again."

"Okay, so when we get to the new motel, I start working on that anagram, and you can take a nap or something."

"Good, god, I love that idea..." I whined and followed after him.

Once we arrived at the motel, Sam quickly paid for the motel while I unpacked our bags. Sam immediately took over the small table and I collapsed onto the bed, and dozed off....

Snow. Everywhere, there was snow, and I could even feel the billowing cold winds wash up my back. A figure sat in the snow ahead, and it seemed vaguely familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it. As I get closer, emerald green eyes, and ebony black hair shines over the winter wonderland, and I'm shunted back into the motel room....

The door rattled with a series of knocking as I woke. I grasped my knife, and got prepared. Sam ushered me to hide in the bathroom before going for the door. A woman's voice echoed out through the motel. "Lottie!" Sam called urgently. I stepped out, and glared at the officer in our room.

"How the hell did you find us?" I snapped.

"Just listen for a second, okay?" Sam urged. I growled a little, and stopped fighting when he used those puppy eyes. "Dean told her."

I let out a soft breath. "Well, then talk."

"He told me to find you and show you these..." Ballard sighed gently and held out her wrists.

Red marks were etched into the soft flesh. I grasped her hands and ran my thumbs over the indentions. "Where did you get these?"

"The... It was- the spirit." She told us with a sigh.

"These showed up after you saw it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"All right. You're going to have to tell us exactly what you saw." Sam insisted.

A weird look crossed her features as she started rubbing her wrists. "You know, I must be losing my mind. You're fugitives. I should be arresting you."

"If you wanna do that, fine. But know this, if we don't figure out what this is? And you continue on your merry way, you'll be killed. The slow painful kind." I explained harshly. "We're trying to help you, believe it or not, we help people that go through stuff like this everyday."

She was silent for a second before she swallowed and nodded her head. "She was, um, really pale, and her throat was cut, and her eyes, they were like, this deep, dark red? It appeared like she was trying to talk to me. But she couldn't. It was just.... a lot of blood." Ballard explained, her voice quivering in fear.

"You know what? Here. I've been researching every girl that's ever died or gone mission from Ashland Street." Sam said as he started shifting through papers.

Ballard looked down a the crime scene photos he had obtained. "How'd you get these? Those are from crime scenes, and booking photos."

"You have your job, we have ours." I explained nonchalantly. "Look through them, and try to recognize the girl you saw."

She sat on the edge of the mattress and started flicking through the pictures. One picture caught her attention. "This is her. I'm sure of it."

"Claire Becker? Twenty-eight years old, disappeared about eight to nine months ago." Sam muttered.

"But I don't even know her. I mean, why would she come after me?"

"Well, before her death, she was arrested twice. For dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?" I ask as I take a seat besides her.

"Yeah, Pete and I did. Before Homicide."

"You ever bust her?"

"Not that I remember." Ballard shrugged.

"It says that she was last seen entering 2911 Ashland Street. Police searched the place, didn't find anything. Guess we gotta check it out ourselves. See if we can find her body." Sam explained. I shoved my feet into my boots and grabbed our duffel of weapons.

"What are you doing?" Ballard asked as I stuffed kerosene and salt into the duffel.

"Well, we gotta salt and burn her body. It's the only way for a spirit to be put to rest." I explained and swung the bag over my shoulder.

"Of course it is...." She grumbled as she followed me out.

~*****~

Sirens bounced off the thick brick walls as we reached 2911 Ashland Street, the night blanketing the surrounding area and covering our figures from prying eyes. "So what exactly are we looking for?" Ballard asked.

"We'll let you know when we find it." Sam replied while looking towards the stairs. Sam let out a soft whistle, motioning us to check out the lower lever. I nod and venture forward, gesturing for Ballard to follow.

"This way..." I whispered lowly. We ventured down the stairs, and I immediately caught sight of the bloody rag on the floor. "This was the right place."

"So, everything is real?" Ballard broke the silence. I looked back at her.

"Haven't heard anything about big foot yet." I retorted. She was not amused by that. "Yeah, I guess. Most of its true at least."

"And you do this for a living?"

"It's not as glamorous as it sounds, trust me." I muttered.

"So, what was that about in St. Louis?"

"Shapeshifter. There were two of them that imitated Dean and I to wreck havoc before we killed them." Ballard sighed gently behind me.

A clatter echoed out suddenly, causing the two of us to suddenly freeze. "What was that?!" Ballard whispered.

"Shh..." I pushed her behind me, and as soon as I did, Claire stood directly in front of us. I pushed her back as the spirit tried speaking. Blood poured from her neck.

"Sam? Sam!" Ballard called in fear.

"Sammy! Get down here, now!" I shouted. Sam bounded down the stairs with heavy foot falls. The ghost disappeared as he got in.

"Hey! Hey, I'm here, what is it? What happened?" Sam asked in concern.

"Claire..." Ballard breathed out.

"Where?" Sam pushed.

"She- She was here." Ballard stuttered.

"Did she attack you?" Sam questioned her.

"No. No, she was just like, reaching out to me. She was over there by the window."

"Hey, help me move this." I ordered before gripping the flashlight between my teeth. Sam moved to my side and we shoved the shelves aside. The letters 'ASHLAND SUP', was written across the glass.

"Our little mystery word." Ballard muttered as the light streamed from the street poured through the window.

"Now the extra letters make sense." Sam muttered. I pulled out my EMF and waved it over the wall the letters were shining on. It went off wildly.

"What is that?" Ballard inquired.

"Spirits and certain remains give off electromagnetic frequencies." Sam explained. "There are some people who are more sensitive to those frequencies." Sam added as I placed my palms on the wall. That suffocating feeling tightened over my neck. "People like Lottie."

"Step back." I muttered and grasped a large pole leaving against the wall. I swung it at the brick wall, and a small hole broke. I dropped the pipe and gazed into it with my flashlight. "There's something in there. Come help me." I gestured to Sam and we started pulling at the bricks.

"You know, this is bothering me." Sam started, looking back at Ballard.

"Well, you are digging up a corpse." Ballard hummed.

"No, not that. Thats, uh, thats pretty far from the course, actually." Sam answered with a chuckle.

"Then what?"

"It's just, I mean, no vengeful spirit we've ever tussled with wanted to be wasted, so why the hell would Claire lead us to her remains? It doesn't make sense." Sam voiced as he cast a glace to me.

"Yeah, that it weird." I huffed as I was able to step inwards. I grasped at the body wrapped in ropes and dragged her out. I started cutting the ropes binding the sheet to her body, and pulled off the sheets.

I gazed at her wrists. "Her wrists. Yeah, they'd be bruised like yours." Sam noted. Ballard knelt down and fingered the delicate necklace around her neck.

"That necklace mean anything to you?" I ask.

"I've seen it before. It's rare. It was custom made over on Carson Street." Ballard explained. We both gave her odd looks. She sighed heavily and pulled a necklace out of her shirt. They were identical. "I have one just like it. Pete gave it to me."

"Well, this makes sense now." I claimed.

"I'm sorry?" Ballard questioned.

"Claire's not a vengeful spirit." I say as I stand up. "She's a death omen."

"Excuse me?"

"Claire's not killing anyone. She's trying to warn them. You see, sometimes spirits, they don't want vengeance, they want justice. Which is why she led us here in the first place. She wants us to know who her killer is."

"Detective, how much do you know about your partner?" Sam asked hesitantly.

Ballard looked down in thought. "Oh, my god."

"What?"

"About a year ago, some heroin went missing from lockup. Obviously it was a cop. We never found out who did it. But whoever did it would need someone to fence their product." Ballard explained, a look of dread crossing over her face.

"Somebody like a heroin dealer. Somebody like Claire." I muttered.

~*****~

Ballard was on the phone as we drove down the long highway. "All right... thanks." She muttered in frustration.

"What is it?" I hum while leaning over the front seats.

"Pete just left the precinct. With Dean."

"Dammit!" I snapped.

"He said the prison had to be transferred, and he just took him. Dispatch has been calling but he won't answer the radio."

"Radio? He took a county vehicle?" Sam questioned.

And like that, it was like a little lightbulb went off in my mind. "You're a genius!" I yelped. "County cars should have a lo-jack, you've just gotta get it turned on!" I explained happily. Sam agreed immediately and we watched as Ballard started up the tracker. Once we arrived, I didn't waste any time to kneel down behind the car and try to sneak around.

"Pete! Put the gun down!" Ballard shouted as she and Sam exited the car.

"Diana? How'd you find me?" Pete asked in confusion. Dean looked up in shock, and didn't notice me slipping through the shadows.

"I know about Claire."

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

"Put the gun down!" She screamed.

"Oh, I don't think so. You're fast. I'm pretty sure I'm faster." Pete taunted with a smirk, the gun still pointed at Dean's head.

"Why are you doing this?" Ballard asked her partner.

"I didn't do anything, Diana."

"It's a little too late for that."

"It wasn't my fault. Claire was trying to turn me in, I had no choice!"

"And Tony! Karen?!"

"Same thing! Tony scrubbed the money, he got skittish, and then he wanted to come clean. I'm sure he told Karen everything!" Pete shot back. I got closer and pulled my gun out just in case, and started creeping forward. "It was a mess; I had to clean it up! I just panicked!"

"How many more people are gonna die over this, Pete?" She asked in disgust.

"There's a way out! This Dean kid's a friggin' gift. We could pin the whole thing on him. Right? No trial, nothing. Just, just one more dead scumbag." Pete spat.

"Hey!" Dean snapped in defense. Pete raised his gun higher and Dean lifted his hand back up. His eye's caught my figure creeping forward, and a wave of relief washed over him.

"No one will question it, Diana. Please, I still love you." Pete begged. Ballard lowered her gun, and after a second, I could see the light bulb go off in her head. "Thank you. Thank you."

As soon as Pete turned his attention back to Dean, Ballard raised her gun again and shot him in the leg as Dean rolled towards me. "Then why don't you buy me another necklace, you ass?" Ballard hissed angrily. He lunged at her, and pulled her to the ground. Ballard lost her gun, and Sam made a mad grab for it, but Pete got a hold of it first. He pointed it at Sam.

"Don't do it! Don't do it!" He warned. My gaze remained on Claire behind him. The frantic man turned to face her. Through her bloody hair, Claire just smiled at him. Ballard took the opportunity to shoot him, and he fell to the ground, dead.

~*****~

Ballard knelt down besides her late partner as the sun slowly broke the horizon. Sam, Dean, and I stood a few feet away to give her some space. Dean's arm was securely wrapped around my waist as Ballard stood up and made her way towards us. "You doin' alright, hun?" I inquire softly.

"Not really. The death omen, Claire. What happens to her now?" Ballard asked softly.

"Should be over. She should be at rest." I assure her. Ballard seemed dissatisfied with the outcome. I could understand that. She had to kill someone she loved.

"So, uh. What now, officer?" Dean asked nervously.

"Pete did confess to me. He screwed up yours and Sam's cases royally. There is a good chance your cases will be dismissed." Ballard offered with a small smile. "Though, they won't stop looking for you, Carlotta. Pete did submit a report that you were alive, and the investigation is on going again."

"That I can deal with, but you'd take care of that for us?"

"I hope so. But the St. Louis murder charges? That's another story. I can't help you." She sighed. "Unless... I just happened to turn my back, and you walked away. I could just tell them the suspects escaped."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, she's sure, Sam." I shot back quickly.

"No, it's just, I mean, you could lose your job over something like that." Sam noted and Dean gave her a nervous smile.

"Look, I just want you guys out there doing what you do best. Trust me. I'll sleep better at night." She assured and turned to leave before glancing back. "Listen, you need to watch your back. They're gonna be looking for the three of you right now. Get out of here. I gotta radio this in."

"Hey, uh, you wouldn't happen to know where my car is, by chance?" Dean questioned.

"It's at the impound yard down by Robertson." Ballard stated. She quickly pointed a finger at him. "Don't.... even think about it."

"It's okay. It's all right, don't worry. We'll uh, We'll just improvise. I mean, we're pretty good at that." Sam told her with a friendly smirk.

"Yeah. I've noticed." She huffed. I gave her a salute before we turned on our heels.

"Nice lady." Sam commented as we strode down the dusty road.

"Yeah, for a cop. Did she look familiar to you?" Dean asked us. I thought for a bit and shook my head.

"No, why?" Sam asked. Dean smirked a little and Sam gave him a playful shove.

"I don't know. Anyway, are you hungry?" Dean inquired the two of us.

"I thought you'd never ask- My stomachs been growling since this morning!" I moaned.

"I could really go for some pea soup." Dean hummed, making the two of us frown. "What?"

~*****~

Later that night, we finally made it to a hotel after breaking the Impala out of impound, and settled in for the night. I stood at the bathroom since slowly brushing my teeth as Sam and Dean slept soundly with the tv still on. My ears had been ringing since we settled into the room, and it was concerning. I kept hearing soft whispering noises and a low hum. I leaned against the sink and stared deeply into the mirror.

My green eyes seemed to glow against my pale skin, and suddenly, I'm assaulted my more visions. Visions of death, war, and Dean's death. And Sam's. And Bobby's. Everyone's death. People I know, people I knew, and some I didn't. It didn't stop until I saw my own death, choking on my own blood as Dean screams in agony. I let out a harsh gasp as I slam my back against the wall behind me, and slump down to try and regain my breathing. The ambient sound of the tv filled my ears once again, and even the subtle snores leaving the Winchester brothers. I was alone in this -- I don't think a soul on this earth knows whats going on with me. And that terrified me.... I couldn't let Sam or Dean know anything anymore. I couldn't let them be aware of their own deaths. I couldn't let them know... of my own death.