Dean wasn't taking the death so well. It was strange since he barely knew her, yet she was incredibly important to him. He accepted it. There was nothing that could be done now. But if he'd done something sooner...

No. Dean couldn't think that way. It had already been too late by the time he opened the door. Right?

That didn't mean he didn't feel responsible. In his head, a million scenarios played. Each where he saved the girl.

If I had opened the door sooner

He didn't even realize that he was crying. He just picked up the phone and dialed Bobby's number.

"Bobby. I have a body that needs a salt and burn."

That's when he heard a loud gasp. The phone dropped to the floor. When he turned around he saw her. Ricky. Alive and breathing. He rushed over to her, and helped her sit up.

She was coughing and breathing heavy, but she was alive. And her shoulder was completely healed.

She blinked a few times, as if her eyes were still focusing. Then her eyes went wide. She had remembered something.

"Dean I-"

She tried to stand but she was dizzy. She would have fell if not for Dean.

"What's wrong?"

She gave him a concerned look, her lip quivering.

"You can't," she looked at the floor,"I-I have to go. I don't know why I'm here. I should go."

"Ricky, whatever it is, I can help."

"No Dean. You can't help. I have to do thus on my own."

"You were dead."

"What?"

"You were dead for a good fifteen minutes. I don't even know how you're alive right now, but..." he shifted, "Just tell me what's wrong."

Ricky swallowed hard, and when she tried to speak her throught was dry.

"My dad. He's gone. It was the demons."