"I tell you, in this world being a little crazy helps to keep you sane."- Zsa Zsa Gabor
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Olivia

I kept driving, the motel slowly fading away into the distance. When I felt like I was far enough away I parked my car in front of an abandoned store, and sighed, turning my car off. I reached in the back and grabbed my duffle bag, placing it in my lap. Scanning the contents, my eyes widened as something appeared to be missing. Riffling through the contents, my breathing quickened, as I realized my box was missing. I quickly relayed the events of last night in my head. I groaned, throwing my head back against the headrest. How could I be so stupid! I took the box out last night before bed, planning on looking through it later, obviously having been too tired to remember.

I sighed, carelessly chucking the duffle bag into the back seat, and punching the steering wheel with my fist. How could I be so careless? How could I forget the most important thing I have ever owned in my entire life? Now it lay in the hands of two complete strangers. I growled, irritated with my carelessness, and started up the car again, turning back around.

I barreled down the road, back towards the motel praying that Sam and Dean didn't look at the contents of the box. After what felt like the longest car ride of my life, I arrived back at the motel. I took a sharp turn into the parking lot, pulling into the first spot I could find. I clambered out of the car, and opened my trunk, grabbing my gun and sticking it the waistband of my jeans. I sighed, before slamming the trunk closed. Walking over to the rearview mirror I leaned down and glanced at my reflection. I licked my hand and ran it firmly through my hair, trying to look somewhat pulled together.

I nodded, shrugging my shoulder. This was the best it was going to get. Walking over to their motel room, I halted right outside the door. I knocked loudly, my brows furrowing as I heard a lot of shuffling going on behind the door. It opened and I came face to face with a pair of olive green eyes. They were locked on mine, at first causing me to blush and look down.

Snap out of Liv! Focus on the task at hand; the box.

"Hey! I left something here." I smiled shyly at Dean, hoping my cheery tone made it less awkward about the fact that I bolted on them only an hour ago.

"Was it a box?" Dean asked, his jaw clenched.

"Yes! Thank God you guys found it," I sighed, letting out a breath of relief.

My brows furrowed, my expression hardening as Dean's hand latched onto my bicep. I squealed as he shoved me inside the room and forced me to sit down on the bed. I gulped as he whipped out his gun, aiming it right between my eyes. I held my hands up in defense. My eyes stared at Dean unwavering, until my gaze drifted to a little wooden box sat on the table. I cursed myself, as I saw all the contents of the box displayed on the motel table.

"Care to explain this?" Dean shouted, pointing at the stone with his gun, then aiming it back at me.

"You have a computer. Why don't you look it up?" I spat, irritated with Dean's behavior.

"We know what it is. The question is: Why do you have it?" Sam intervened, crossing his arms over his chest, staring me down.

"It's complicated," I sighed, running a hand through my tangled locks.

"Well un-complicate it," Dean growled, cocking his gun.

"It's a really complicated situation that doesn't involve you," I muttered, moving to get up and gather my things, until Dean shoved my down onto the bed by my shoulder.

"You don't get to move. Talk. Now," Dean demanded, expression cold and unwavering.

"Okay, well the thing is. . .I kind of stole it." I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth, looking between Sam and Dean. Dean cocked an eyebrow, while Sam's frown only deepened.

"You stole the stone?" Sam asked.

"Yes. Come on Sammy, keep up. I thought you were the brains of this operation." I rolled my eyes at his cluelessness, crossing my arms over my chest.

"From where?" Dean snarked.

"You know what. . .I don't like your tone." I smirked, uncrossing my arms and putting them behind me, leaning back into the firm mattress.

"I stole the stone from a spell caster," I sighed, seeing as if I kept quiet, I could very likely be here forever.

"What is a spellcaster?" Sam asked, pulling a kitchen chair up, and sitting down in it, next to me.

"It's a step down from being a witch. It's the stage before you become a witch," I replied.

"Okay. . ." Dean trailed off. His brows furrowed, as he gave me a disbelieving look.

"What the hell is going on? I want the full story now, or so help me God I will put a bullet in your head." Dean clenched his gun tighter, finger hovering over the trigger.

"Man. . .someone is still upset about earlier," I chimed, holding my hands up in defense.

"Fine. You want the truth?" I let out a sigh, clearing my throat. "I stole the stone to save my family." I looked down at my hands, a slight blush creeping over my face.

"So you're not a witch or a spell caster?" Sam questioned.

"If I was do you honestly think I would tell you?" I snapped. Groaning at the gun still being shoved into my face, I stood up, quickly disarming Dean, and grabbing his gun from him. I almost missed his dumbstruck face, as I stripped the gun, walking over to the kitchen table and setting it down.

"Look. . ." I sighed, turning around to face the pair of men.

"My entire family was killed by a vampire named Charles. He's the most powerful vampire that I have ever encountered. When I ambushed his minions yesterday and ended up captured, I overheard them saying he was looking for the stone to raise some nefarious guy from the dead. So, you see now? I only wanted the stone, so I could exchange it with Charles in return for my family. My brother may still be alive, and don't worry, he's never actually going to get the stone. I was planning on killing him as soon as he touched it and told me where my family was, if any of them are still alive.

"So you're using the stone to get revenge for your family, possibly find your brother and kill and entire vamp nest by yourself?" Dean questioned, crossing his arms over his chest, lips drawn into a thin line.

"Yes exactly! See now we are on the same page," I said, walking over to him and patting him on the shoulder. I walked back over to the bed, sitting down once again.

"That's a terrible idea," Dean gruffed, going to the fridge popping open a beer.

"Do you have a better one?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Why don't we keep the stone somewhere safe until we figure something out?" Sam suggested, shrugging, and tucking the stone back into it's velvet sack, and putting it in my open box on the table.

Dean sipped on his beer and I looked over to Sam, my eyes widening as I saw him scanning through my personal photos, that were splayed out all over the table. I stomped over to him, just as he picked up a picture of Kyle. I sighed, snatching the picture from him.

"These are personal; way too personal for you to see." I huffed, collecting all of my pictures on the table, and placing them back in the box.

"Who are all those people? " he asked.

"My family," I choked out, sending him a sad smile.

"Excuse me. I need a minute." I quickly wiped the stray tear from my eye, and walked out of the room, leaning against the wall of the motel.

This time, instead of Sam coming outside, it was Dean. He had a worried looked etched into his chiseled features. He leaned on the wall next to me, shoving his hands into his front pockets.

"You okay," he asked, his eyes trying to find mine.

"Yeah, just peachy," I muttered, softly staring at the last picture I took of Kyle. I brushed my thumb across his beautiful smiling face. His hazel eyes stared back up at me, full of wonder and amazement. His brown teddy bear was clutched in his meaty little fists. He never went anywhere without that damned thing.

I choked back a sob, rubbing away the snot from my nose with my long sleeve. Dean didn't say anything, which I appreciated. He just stood there with me, silently letting me know he was there if need be. Ten minutes had gone by, the cars passing by on the busy road being the only audible noise.

"Who's the kid?" he finally pipped up, his voice low, yet sincere.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I quipped.

"Don't act like you care Dean. You and I both know it's a nice act to get girls in bed. But trust me when I tell you that shit won't work on me."

"Listen, I care. I know I only just met you, but I'm not that cold hearted. Sure, I'd say some cheesy line to some girl at a bar, but you're not some girl, okay? You're a hunter. You're one of us, and you helped me and Sammy a lot on that hunt last night. All we want are some answers and to help. And if making sure you're okay is a part of that, then so be it."

I paused for a brief moment, my lips parting as I thought hard about whether or not I should tell him. My shoulders sagged, and I let out a defeated sigh.

"His name is Kyle. He was my son." I ran a shaky hand through my hair, looking up at Dean.

Dean seemed to notice the shift in my demeanor, and tensed up a bit, yet still leaning against the wall.

"So. . .long story short, I was in an abusive marriage with this guy named Brian. It happened after my entire family was swept out from under me. I was vulnerable and in a bad place. Brian wasn't always abusive though. He was a soldier, and spent time in Afghanistan. After he came back, he was drunk all the time. Happy one moment, then angry the next. He would beat the crap out of me everyday, and the sad part is that I let him. It was never anything too bad. I had few broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and bad bruises. However, one day I found out I was pregnant and I didn't want to keep it. I didn't want a kid to grow up in this situation. That didn't sit too well with Brian. He forced me to keep Kyle, and promised me it would change him into a better man. Anyways, I gave birth to Kyle and for a minute I could see a happiness is Brian's eyes I hadn't seen in a long time. Then he had to re-enlist and he came back more drunk and angrier and lashed out at me. One day he lost it. I don't know what it was? Maybe it was something I did. If I could go back and fix it, I would. But after he kicked my ass, I locked Kyle in a closet away from Brian. Of course this only fueled the fire, and he grabbed his gun and shot up the entire closet with Kyle inside. There was so much blood and I wanted to kill him, but. . ." I trailed off, tears spilling from eyes quickly.

I needed to get out of this situation, but my body wasn't letting me. Dean pushed off of the wall, coming to stand in front of me, and enveloped me in a hug. His scent washed over me, calming my nerves. As he pulled away, he stared at me, at a loss for words, until he finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing away stray tears with his thumbs.

I let out a pathetic chuckle, rubbing at my face with the sleeves of my shirt.

"He shot me and told me that no matter where I go, he would find me. So I dyed my hair, changed my last name back to my maiden one and just drove away, and I've been driving ever since."

Dean nodded, jaw clenched. "We are going to help you find your brother, hoping he's still alive." He shot me a reassuring smile.

"No. I don't want you and Sam to get caught up in my mess. This is my fight." I shoved the photo of Kyle into my pocket, and stormed back inside. Grabbing my box of photos, making sure the stone was inside, I raced out of the room again. I was stopped in my tracks as Dean blocked the exit. I spun around to find Sam standing right behind me, arms crossed.

"Where the hell do you think your going?" Dean snapped.

"This is not your problem Dean. Move," I growled.

"I'm not just going to let you take on an entire vamps nest alone!" he shouted.

"It's not your fight, Dean! They took my family." I heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Dean, I have nothing left. Nothing. Kyle's gone. My mom's gone. My Dad's gone. Luke's most likely gone too. The only thing I have left is the clothes on my back and Beth. But Dean. . .you have Sam. You have family. I can't let you risk everything to help me rescue someone who may not even be alive anymore!" I screamed, hitting him violently in the chest.

He grabbed me, pulling me in tight again as I fought him, sobbing uncontrollably. I kept hitting him over and over again,realizing they weren't even affecting him. I finally gave up when I ran out of energy and sagged against him. Clutching onto Dean's shirt, I buried my face in his chest. The room was silent, and after a while I felt Sam's eyes burning into my back. I spun around, out of Dean's arm and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. I started throwing up, a rush of nerves and anxiety taking over me. I wiped my mouth and slide down the wall of the bathroom. I needed to be alone. I needed to think. I needed to plan.

Was I really going to join forces with Sam and Dean Winchester?

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