Written by: KariGorsuch

I walked out to the living room after Eve dumped the untouched coffee, dropping onto the couch next to Sam with a huff. Sam glanced over at me, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. The tension in the room was palpable, and I could tell he was picking up on my mood, even if I was trying to hide it.

Lifting his arm, he offered me a comforting side hug, his presence grounding in the midst of everything swirling in my head. I leaned into him slightly, grateful for the quiet moment.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly, his voice low and calm, as if he already knew it wasn't.

I shook my head, draping an arm over his stomach. "Not... entirely. I keep thinking of that fight with Jessie- the whole thing. He called me a Catalyst, and you the Favorite. I can't help but think that it has something to do with the Eve that my uncle... procreated with. There's got to be a bigger picture that I'm just not seeing."

Sam tensed slightly beneath my arm, going stiff at my words. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I could see the wheels turning in his head, the way they always did when something hit a nerve.

"Catalyst and Favorite..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "That doesn't sound like something Jessie came up with on his own."

I pulled back slightly to get a better look at him. "You know something, don't you?"

"Sammy has Demonic blood. Which gives him abilities that only a select group have. But Eve can't make a move until she has all the pieces...and she's missing Sammy."

The weight of the memory hit me like a ton of bricks. My breath caught in my throat as the words echoed in my mind- Eve can't make a move until she has all the pieces... and she's missing Sam.

Sam was watching me carefully, his expression tense, waiting for me to say something. I shook my head slightly, trying to ground myself in the present, but the pieces were starting to click together in ways I didn't like.

"She needs you," I murmured, mostly to myself.

Sam nodded slowly. "That's what it sounds like."

"But why?" I pressed, my heart pounding. I shot up from the couch, panic rising as the realization settled deeper into my bones.

Sam straightened slightly, his eyes tracking my movements as I started pacing the room. "Bri-" he started, but I cut him off.

"No, Sam, think about it." I spun around to face him. "She's powerful, she's ancient. She's got monsters at her disposal. What could you possibly have that she needs?"

Sam exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "My blood," he admitted. "Azazel's plan was to create a leader, someone who could command the Demon army. If Eve's looking for me, maybe it's because she thinks I can do the same for her."

I stopped, wrapping my arms around myself as a chill ran down my spine. "Or..." I stopped myself, not even wanting to think of the other possibility.

Sam's eyes narrowed as he picked up on my hesitation. "Or what?"

I hesitated, biting my lip. I didn't want to say it out loud, but the thought had already taken root in my mind, festering like a wound.

"Or, she doesn't want you to lead," I finally forced out, my voice barely a whisper. "Maybe she needs you... out of the picture."

Sam's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. He didn't flinch, didn't react, but I could see the weight of my words settling into him. The idea hung between us, heavy and unspoken- until now.

"You think she wants me dead?" His voice was quiet, controlled, but the tension in his frame told me he'd already considered the possibility.

I swallowed hard. "I think you're the only real threat to whatever she's planning. Maybe she doesn't need you to lead an army- maybe she needs you gone so no one else can."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "If that's true, then we don't have much time before she makes her move."

I trembled where I stood, my breath starting to come hard and fast. "What about the whole 'catalyst' thing? Uncle Brad managed to kill her last time- or- or banish her, whatever it was."

"Bri-" Sam was immediately at my side, pulling my head against his chest. "-breathe."

I leaned into Sam, burying my head into his chest, his steady heartbeat grounding me as I struggled to regain control of my breath. Sam's arms wrapped around me, strong and steady, holding me as if I could break at any moment. I could feel the warmth of his body, the rhythm of his heart, and slowly, it helped ease the tightness in my chest.

I took a shaky breath, then another, and another, until the panic started to fade into something more manageable. My mind was still racing, still trying to connect the dots, but for the moment, I just needed to focus on being present, not what might come.

Sam's hand moved in slow, soothing circles on my back. "You're okay," he murmured, his voice low and reassuring.

I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest. The sheer weight of everything- Eve, the past, the unknown, the stress of the day- pressed down on me, but here, in this moment, Sam's presence was enough to keep me from collapsing under it.

After a few more steady breaths, I finally pulled back, though his hands remained around my waist, anchoring me. His hazel eyes scanned my face, searching for any lingering panic.

"I... I'm good." I murmur, not meeting his eyes.

Sam's grip tightened for a brief second, before he let out a slow breath and nodded. "You don't have to lie to me, Bri."

I swallowed hard, still avoiding his gaze. "I'm not lying. I'm just... trying to be."

He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. "Trying to be okay, and actually being okay are two different things."

Sam studied me for a long moment, then gave a small tug on my waist, guiding me gently back toward the couch. "Come here," he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

I hesitated, my body still tense from everything swirling in my mind, but the warmth in his eyes melted some of the resistance in my chest. Slowly, I let him pull me down beside him, tucking me under his arm.

"Just for a little while," I mumbled, more to myself than him.

Sam didn't say anything, just shifted so that I could curl into his side, my head resting against his chest. His arm wrapped securely around my shoulders, fingers tracing idle patterns along my upper arm. The steady rise and fall of his breath was calming, and before I know it, I was sinking into him, the tension in my muscles loosening bit by bit.

The silence between us was comfortable, and I could feel my heartbeat gradually syncing with his, steady and sure. Sam shifted slightly, resting his chin lightly against the top of my head, his warmth cocooning me from the cold, gnawing fear that had taken root in my chest earlier.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, but the moment was shattered when a familiar voice cut through the quiet.

"Well, isn't this cozy?"

My head snapped up just in time to see Dean leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. His eyebrows waggled suggestively, and I felt my face heat up instantly.

Sam groaned, dropping his head back against the couch. "Dean."

"What?" Dean held up his hands in mock innocence. "I'm just saying, if you two wanted some alone time, you could've put a sock on the door or something."

I swatted at Sam's chest before sitting up properly, though he kept an arm lazily draped around me. "It's not like that," I muttered, avoiding Dean's knowing stare.

Dean scoffed, pushing off the door frame and strolling into the living room. "Sure, sure. And I'm the Pope." He flopped into the armchair across from us, kicking his boots up onto the coffee table. "Not that I blame you, Sammy. Girl's had a rough day- makes sense she'd want to curl up with someone."

I felt Sam tense slightly beside me, his fingers twitching where they rested against my arm.

"Seriously, Dean?" I snapped, standing up abruptly. "Just because you keep screwing up your chances with Eve doesn't mean you get to make fun of Sam for not screwing something up."

The words left my mouth before I fully thought them through, and the moment they did, I saw the shift in Dean's expression. His smirk faltered for just a second- so fast that I almost missed it- but then it was back, sharper this time.

"Damn," Dean muttered, "Didn't realize we were taking cheap shots tonight."

I clenched my jaw, my fists curling at my sides. A part of me wanted to apologize, but another part- the part that had had enough of his deflection, his constant teasing, his refusal to just be honest- stood its ground.

Dean shook his head with a dry chuckle, reaching for the remote. "You know what? Fine. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone."

I huffed, crossing my arms. "That's not-"

A gentle tug at my belt loop stopped me mid-sentence. I glanced down to see Sam's fingers hooked lightly through the fabric, a silent signal to let it go.

I sighed, forcing myself to take a deep breath before dropping back onto the couch beside him. His arm settled over my shoulders again, solid and steady.

Dean didn't say anything else. He just exhaled sharply through his nose, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he pushed himself up from the armchair. The air between us still crackled with unresolved tension, but he didn't give me the satisfaction of another retort.

Instead, he turned on his heel, striding for the doorway.

Just as he reached it, Eve appeared from the hallway, nearly colliding with him.

The moment stretched, taut and heavy.

Dean froze, his expression guarded, though something flickered behind his eyes- something I wasn't sure he even realized was there. Eve, on the other hand, didn't move, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something.

But neither of them spoke.

Dean's gaze flicked over her face, his usual bravado absent, replaced with something raw, something unspoken. Then, just as quickly, his walls snapped back into place. He scoffed under his breath, sidestepping around her without a word.

Eve turned slightly, watching him go, her expression unreadable- but the way her fingers curled at her sides, the slight part of her lips, the almost imperceptible shift in her stance... it all spoke volumes.

She was longing.

Sam and I both noticed.

I felt Sam's arm tighten around me slightly, his body shifting just enough for me to glance up at him. His hazel eyes flickered toward Eve for only a second before meeting mine, the same silent understanding passing between us.

We weren't the only ones holding onto things we weren't ready to say out loud.

Eve must've sensed our attention because she blinked, shaking off whatever thoughts had momentarily consumed her. Her expression smoothed out into something neutral- too neutral- before she finally turned her gaze to us.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, her voice carefully controlled.

"Nope," I answered quickly, leaning back into Sam.

Eve raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me as her gaze jumped from me, to Sam, to where Sam's arm was draped around my shoulders.

Sam cleared his throat, "What she means is, you aren't interrupting anything. Our plan is to get some rest and start digging through Brad's books and journals in the morning. We were just..."

Sam's voice trailed off as Eve's gaze lingered on the two of us, her brow quirked in a mix of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite place. It wasn't judgemental, but there was a subtle wariness in her eyes.

I shifted uncomfortably under her stare, but Sam's steady presence next to me helped keep me grounded. I could feel the tension in his arm as it remained draped around my shoulders, but his voice was calm when he spoke again.

"We're just... figuring things out," he finished, giving Eve a small, almost dismissive smile. "No need to read too much into it."

Eve tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing just enough for me to catch the glimmer of something knowing in her gaze. She crossed her arms over her chest, the posture nonchalant, but her expression softened as if she had decided to let us off the hook for now.

"I'm not one to pry, but... good." Eve said, her voice carrying a surprising amount of warmth. "I can see it, you know. You two are good together." She paused, offering a small approving nod. "Keep it that way."

Her words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. I exchanged a glance with Sam who seemed just as caught off guard as I was. Sam gave her a small nod, his arm unconsciously tightening for a second. "We'll try," he said, his voice steady but laced with something I couldn't quite place.

Eve held his gaze for a moment longer, something unspoken passing between them. Then, with a final nod, she turned on her heel and made her way to the doorway. She paused just before stepping out, glancing back at us. "And Sam?"

He lifted his chin slightly. "Yeah?"

Her lips quirked into a small smirk. "Don't screw it up."

With that, she was gone, her boots softly thumping as she climbed the stairs to the second floor.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, collapsing against his side again.

For a long time, neither of us spoke. The room had fallen into a comfortable quiet, the kind that only came when two people didn't feel the need to fill the silence. Sam absentmidedly traced small circles on my arm, and I found myself closing my eyes, letting the steady rhythm lull me into sleep.

Just as I was teetering on the edge of sleep, Sam shifted slightly beneath me, his voice a low murmur against the quiet. "You should head to bed."

I made a small noise of protest, nuzzling deeper into his side. "M' comfortable." I mumbled, not quite ready to move.

Sam let out a quiet chuckle, the sound rumbling against my cheek. "You won't be come morning."

I sighed, knowing he was right. Pushing up from the couch, I stretched my arms above my head and let out a small yawn. For a long moment I contemplated dragging him upstairs with me, if only to steal his body warmth.

Sam caught my glance and smirked. "Bobby threatened to have us sleep in the car if he caught us upstairs with you girls."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. "Of course he did."

I lingered for a second before, without thinking too much about it, I leaned down and pressed a quick, barely-there kiss to his temple. "Night, Sam."

His breath hitched- so quiet I almost missed it- but he didn't pull away. Instead, his eyes softened, something unreadable passing through them.

"Goodnight, Bri," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

I forced myself to turn away, climbing the stairs to the second floor and pushing the door open to the room Eve and I shared. She was already curled up in her bed, asleep.

Quickly grabbing a pair of shorts and a random shirt from my bag, I ducked into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

The sound of rushing water filled the small space, steam quickly curling around me as I stripped out of my clothes. Stepping under the spray, I washed quickly, letting the warmth of the water ease the remaining tension in my muscles. The events of the day replayed in my mind- Eve's knowing smirk, Dean's lingering look, Sam's steady presence.

I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead against the cool tile as I exhaled slowly. What the hell was I doing?

It wasn't like Sam and I were a thing. Not really. We were just... close. Closer than we had been before we had left to find Uncle Brad, for sure, but it didn't have to mean anything... Right?

I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away as I quickly rinsed off and stepped out of the shower. Drying off and sliping into my shorts and shirt, I darted back across the hall and into the room where Eve and I were sleeping. She hadn't stirred, her breathing even and quiet.

Settling down in my bed, I tugged the sheets up, cacooning myself in the soft covers.

"You should have known better," the same voice sneers, echoing like a thousand whispers in my ear. "You thought you could play hero, but you're just a little girl who couldn't even save herself, let alone him."

Out of the eerie darkness, a faceless figure appeared, holding Sam effortlessly in front of them. Sam's face was strained, as if he had been fighting back. "Bri-"

The figure moved, pulling a blade from their robes. "Quiet..." it hissed, dragging the blade teasingly over his throat.

My stomach lurched at the sight of the blade so close to his skin, sending a jolt of panic straight through me. My heart hammered in my chest as I tried to move, tried to scream, but my body was paralized, unable to do anything but watch in terror.

Sam's eyes locked with mine, desperation and fear flickering in them. "Bri..." his voice was weak, but the sound of my name falling from his lips made my heart ache.

"You couldn't save them before," the voice whispers again, thick with malice. "What makes you think you can now?"

"Please.." I gasped, my voice finally breaking throught he silence, but it sounded weak, even to my ears.

The faceless figure cocked its head, as though considering my plea. The coldness of its laugh reverberated around me. "Please," it mocked. "What could you do, Brianna? You can't save him."

The blade gleamed in the dim light, pressing hard enough for a thin trail of blood to coat the blade in a crimson hue. His body stiffened, drawing as far away from the blade as he could.

A sickening laugh echoed from all around as the shadows surrounded me. Tendrils of shadow coiled around my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs.

"Let him go!" I screamed, desperate. My chest heved with the effort to break free from the hold the shadows had on me. "I'll do whatever you want! Just don't hurt him!"

The figure's dark laughter fades for a moment, and it seems to consider my words. A cold silence stretched between us, thick with a sense of inevitability. The shadows tightened, pulling me even further into their grip. Then, with a sharp, sudden motion, the faceless figure pulled back the blade, releasing Sam, who stumbled forward a step.

The figure didn't let Sam breath for long. It stepped up behind him, clasping his shoulder as it plunged the blade deep into his back in a swift, brutal strike. "You'll do what I want anyway." It hissed.

Sam's knees buckled, and his body hit the floor with a sharp crack.

I jerked awake, fighting against the blankets that once cocooned me in their warmth, now trapping me in the twin bed. My heart was pounding, my breath ragged as I scrambled to sit up, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to me like a weight. Peeking over at Eve's bed showed that I hadn't disturbed her.

My skin was cold with sweat, my hands trembling as I wiped at my face, trying to shake off the fear.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real.

I kept telling myself that, but the memory of Sam's pain, the sound of the blade sinking into his flesh, made it hard to breathe. My chest felt tight, the phantom sensation of shadows choking me still lingering.

I swung my legs off the bed, my feet hitting the floor with a soft thud. I moved quickly throwing on a hoodie and slipping out of the room, closing the door quietly to not wake Eve. Creeping down the stairs, I avoided the third step, which creaked. Moving on silent feet, I paused at the doorway to the living room. Dean had returned, and was mansplayed over the recliner. Sam had laid down on the couch, a book propped open on his chest.

I stood in the doorway, watching him breath, to convince myself that he was fine. Taking a deep breath, I let the quiet sounds of their steady breathing ground me, slowly pushing away the remnants of the nightmare. The sight of him- of both of them- relaxed and alive, was the reassurance I needed.

I stood there for a moment longer, hesitant. Part of me wanted to wake him, to tell him about the nightmares, but the other part of me, the part with the louder voice, knew that it would be better to let him sleep.

Stepping back, I went to the office and sat down in the chair behind the desk. We had brought the duffle bags from Uncle Brad's house in, and just thrown them in here. Pulling the first duffle bag to me, I unzipped it and started pulling books and tombs out.

The familiar weight of the old, worn books felt oddly comforting in my hands, as if I could glean some sort of answer from their pages. I laid them out on the desk, the stack growing higher with each one I pulled out. The faded covers and yellowed pages spoke of years- maybe even decades- of history, knowledge, and secrets.

I ran a finger along the spine of one book, the leather smooth but cracked, as if it had lived through as much as the person who owned it.

As I flipped through one of the journals, my eyes scanning the ancient script, the words blurred together for a second. None of the words made sense- but it also didn't pertain to the problem at hand.

Taking a deep breath, I set the book down with a soft thud and leaned back in the chair, running my fingers through my hair.

Picking up the journal Sam and I had found on Brad's body the second day, I cracked it open and started reading.

The journal jumped from day to day, as if it was a diary. As I read, a chill settled over me. The details of Brad's relationship with Not Eve- how they met, how they grew closer- seemed almost too intimate, like peering into a secret no one was supposed to know. But it wasn't just the love story that caught my attention. It was the shift in tone as the journals entries turned darker.

Brad had been fascinated by Eve at first, intrigued by her power and beauty. But something shifted- something Brad couldn't explain. The tone of his writing became more frantic, as if he was racing against time to understand what was happening.

It felt like hours had passed as I dove deeper into the journal, so when boots scuffled on the floor outside the office, I jumped.

"Bri?" Came Bobby's voice, concern and surprise in his tone as he looked at me curled up at his desk. "What are you doing up?"

"I..." I trailed off, not wanting to bring up the nightmares that seemed so... insignificant. "I couldn't sleep."

"Bullshit," Bobby snapped, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. "You were damn near asleep on Sam earlier."

I stiffened, my eyes snapping to Bobby. He didn't look angry, just tired and slightly concerned, though his voice held the edge of someone who wasn't buying the excuse. I glanced back down at the journal in my hands, running my thumb over the worn leather cover before I responded.

"It's nothing," I said, my voice quiet. "Just couldn't sleep."

Bobby didn't buy it, though. I could see the skepticism in his eyes as he pushed off the doorframe and walked into the room, standing a few feet away from me.

"I've seen that look before Bri. You're just as bad as Dean." His voice softened a touch, but there was a weight behind it, something that made my chest tighten. "Whatever you're hiding, it ain't gonna stay buried for long."

I nodded, "Just long enough for the others to get some decent sleep."

Shuffling from the hallway drew my attention, and soon Dean stumbled into view, with Sam trailing not far behind. "...Guess it's sooner rather than later..." I muttered, noticing Eve moving about in the kitchen.

The soft clink of mugs filled the silence as the guys settled into their chosen seats, with coffee cups in hand, around the study. The weight of the situation pressing down on all of us. Sam's tired eyes flickered to mine as I hesitated, clearly sensing something was off, but saying nothing.

Eve, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed across her chest, met my gaze, her expression unreadable. Whatever happened with her- she wasn't ready to open up about it.

Bobby, always the first to call it when things weren't adding up, gave me a pointed look. His arms were still crossed, his stance still protective but knowing. He wasn't going to let this go, but I was going to have to say something sooner rather than later.

"Alright, everyone," I said, my voice steady but quieter than usual, "I've been looking through Brad's journals."

That caught their attention. Sam sat up a little straighter, his expression curious but guarded. Dean raised an eyebrow, taking a long sip of his coffee before setting the mug down. Eve's eyes narrowed just a fraction, as if she had an inkling of where this was going.

"I don't think it was just Eve's pregnancy that made things go sideways," I continued, setting the journal in front of me for them all to see. "Brad's entries... they're not just about his relationship with her. He was starting to panic. The tone of his writing changed, and it was like he was trying to figure out what had happened."

"Did he say how he got rid of her? Banish- killed- anything?" Sam's question lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken tension. I flipped through a few more pages, scanning the frantic scrawl of Brad's final entries before shaking my head.

"No," I admitted, "but he was desperate. The way he wrote about it... like he wanted to stop whatever was happening, but he wasn't sure if he could." I hesitated before adding, "and he was afraid of what she would do to him if he tried."

Dean scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, well, looks like he was right to be scared. She didn't just let him walk away, did she?"

The words barely left his mouth before I grabbed the closest book and hurled it at him.

"That's my fucking Uncle," I snapped.

The book hit him square in the chest with a dull thud, making him grunt in surprise.

"Damn it, Bri!" Dean gleared at me, rubbing the spot where it landed.

"Ass," Eve huffed from the kitchen, stepping out just long enough to smack the back of Dean's head before retreating again. He shot her a sharp look, but she just smirked over her shoulder, cool and collected- right up until she stuck her tongue out at him.

Dean rolled his eyes before turning back to me. "Look, I get it, alright? But getting pissed at me isn't gonna help."

"Maybe don't say stupid shit then," I glared

Dean raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine-fine. I'll keep my 'stupid shit' to a minimum." His voice was laced with sarcasm.

I snorted, "You couldn't keep your dick in your pants for 2 days, so I highly doubt that."

Dean scoffed, shaking his head with a smirk, while Eve's face dropped for a moment at the mention and reminder.

I crossed my arms. "I'm just saying, self-restraint? Not exactly your strong suit."

Sam sighed, rubbing his temples. "Can we not do this right now?"

Dean turned to him, throwing up his hands. "Tell her to stop coming at me sideways!"

"It's the only way he'll be coming..." I mutter, leaning back in the chair and staring up at the ceiling.

Dean choked on his coffee, sputtering as Sam groaned loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Jesus Christ, Bri!" Dean coughed, wiping his mouth. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Uh.. A lot- Shall I list it for you?"

Dean shook his head, still coughing. "No! No, I do not need a damn list."

Sam groaned again, rubbing his face. "I hate every part of this conversation."

Eve walked back in the room, pausing to take in Dean's horrified expression and my smug one. "What did I miss?"

"Bri being Bri," Sam muttered, clearly done with all of us- myself included.

Dean pointed at me accusingly. "She's worse than me."

"Only when sleep deprived, usually there's a filter," I shrugged, finally looking back down. "I have to make up for your lack of self-awareness somehow."

Bobby cleared his throat loudly, giving us all a pointed look. "Are y'all done with whatever the hell this is?"

I grinned, "For now."

Dean huffed, still glaring, but he didn't push it farther. Instead, he grabbed his coffee, taking a careful sip- probably making sure he wouldn't choke again.

Eve plopped down onto the desk, nudging me with her foot. "You really do your best work when you're running on fumes."

"Thanks," I said dryly. "I'll make sure to schedule a breakdown every couple of weeks for entertainment purposes."

Bobby rolled his eyes, muttering something about damn kids under his breath before grabbing a book off the desk and tossing it to Dean. "Make yourself useful."

Dean caught it- sort of. The book smacked into his hands at an odd angle, and he fumbled with it before yanking it against his chest. "Son of a bitch!"

Eve stiffened on the couch, and I looked up. "What now?"

Dean scowled, flipping his hand palm-up to reveal a thin but deep cut across his palm, blood welling up almost instantly.

Eve froze, eyes locked on the blood seeping through Dean's skin.

"Did you seriously cut yourself on a fucking book?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose and sighing heavily.

Dean glared at me, his hand still hovering in the air, blood slowly forming into a droplet. "It's not just a book, Bri." He held up the book, letting a small piece of metal dangle from within the pages.

"Uh-huh." I nodded, stifling a yawn. "Just... don't go bleeding out over there."

Eve, who hadn't moved since the incident, suddenly stood up so fast that she shoved the couch back. Her eyes were wide, and for a split second, there was something in her gaze that unsettled me.

"Eve?" Sam called, but she didn't respond.

Before anyone could say anything else, she bolted, rushing out of the room, her boots pounding on the wooden floor as she headed toward the door.

"What the hell-?" I muttered, standing up to toss Dean a rag. Stepping over to the door, I could barely see her shadow disappearing into the woods that was Bobby's backyard. "I'm going after her."