Pamela wasn't a fan of the plan, but she was coming. After all, she could never say no to Nadia. There was something about the archangel that commanded loyalty—not through force, but through sheer presence and the deep, unshakable kindness she exuded. That, and Pamela trusted her like few others.

So, Pamela bought a train ticket and was in Greybull by morning. While Dean left to pick her up from the station, Nadia and Ben were having breakfast in their motel room.

Well, Ben was having breakfast. Nadia sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with her phone, staring at the wall. Food was the last thing on her mind.

"You didn't sleep much last night," Ben said, casually starting on his second donut. His voice was thick with crumbs and sugar, and it grated on her nerves just a little.

"And you slept like a baby for someone who is still very much in trouble," Nadia quipped, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. She gave him a pointed look. "I talked to Mom and Dad, you know?"

Ben froze, his donut hovering midair. He swallowed hard and then carefully set the pastry on a napkin. "You did?"

"I did." Nadia's tone was sharp, but there was a softness beneath it that Ben had learned to read over the years.

His voice grew nervous. "What'd they say? Do they know that I'm here with you?"

Nadia gave a short, exasperated laugh and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "All they know is we're at home. Bonding."

Ben's eyes widened to the size of quarters. "You lied?"

"I did," Nadia admitted with a heavy sigh. She dropped her head into her hands for a moment before sitting up again. "And trust me, I'm not proud of it. You know how much it took for Mom and me to build some actual trust between us."

Ben visibly relaxed, wiping his forehead with a napkin before diving back into his donut. "What a relief."

Nadia's glare cut him short. "Don't get too comfortable, Ben. I didn't lie for you." Her voice hardened. "When was the last time Mom and Dad went on a vacation?"

Ben furrowed his brow, thinking. "Uh... Never?"

"Exactly. If I told them you were out here acting a fool, then playing sidekick on a hunt, they'd be back here before you could finish that donut. And that's the last thing I want. They deserve this time away." Nadia jabbed a finger toward him. "But don't think for a second that this is some kind of vacation for you. I know you get all excited about being this close to a hunt, but this is serious. You're gonna stay in this room, no questions asked. And no matter what happens, you do exactly what I say. Got it?"

Ben gulped and nodded, hating the "paren-ty" tone in her voice even though he knew he deserved it. "I got it."

There was a knock on the door, and Nadia rose to her feet, her shoulders squaring. "That must be them." She crossed the room and opened the door, expecting to see Dean and Pamela. Instead, Sam Winchester stood in the doorway.

"Hey," he said, glancing past her into the room. "Are they back yet?"

Before he could step inside, Nadia placed a firm hand on his chest and pushed him back, closing the door behind her. Her expression hardened, her voice low but pointed. "What the hell was that back at the cemetery?"

Sam's face shifted from mild curiosity to discomfort. His gaze dropped for a second before he met her eyes. "I was meanin' to talk to you about that."

"Oh, is that right?" Nadia cocked her hip and crossed her arms.

Sam cleared his throat, trying to play it casual. "Yeah, I just wanted to apologize. I got a bit excited and—"

"Out of control is a better way to put it, Sam," Nadia interrupted.

Sam let out a short, incredulous chuckle, shaking his head. "Come on, Nadia. You're a hunter. You've been through worse than me grabbing your ar—"

"That's not the point," Nadia cut in sharply. Her voice was calm, but her tone left no room for argument.

Sam's jaw tightened, his guilt barely hidden beneath his frustration. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean—"

"Don't worry, Sam." Nadia's voice dropped a notch, cool and steady. "I'm gonna let it go. But hear me when I say this." She leaned in slightly, her gaze unwavering. "I might like you, and I might care deeply about your brother, but if you ever touch me in a way that feels threatening—"

"You'll throttle me, huh?" Sam interrupted with a sheepish laugh, though there was a nervous edge to it.

"Damn straight," Nadia replied, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

She turned back to the door and opened it, letting him follow her inside. Ben greeted Sam with a wide grin, clearly having overheard the important bits of their conversation.

"Good morning," Sam greeted Ben, forcing a smile.

"Not a good one for you," Ben said with a chuckle, stuffing the last bite of his donut into his mouth. "She promised you an ass-kicking, didn't she?"

Sam shook his head with a sigh, choosing not to dignify that with a response.

"Have a seat," Nadia gestured toward her chair. "You can have a donut too."

"I'm good," Sam replied, standing stiffly with his hands in his pockets. He glanced toward the door when another knock sounded, practically leaping to answer it.

It was Dean and Pamela. Dean's expression matched Sam's from moments ago—an unmistakable look of someone who had been thoroughly chewed out.

"I can't even begin to tell you how crazy you are," Pamela said, shaking her head as she stepped inside. Her voice carried an edge of frustration, and her movements were as sharp as her tone. She reached for the counter to steady herself, her fingers brushing along the edge as she oriented herself in the unfamiliar room.

She was dressed in her signature style—a tank top, a leather jacket, boots, and enough goth-inspired rings to make a jewelry store jealous. Her no-nonsense aura filled the room.

"Well, Pamela, you're a sight for sore eyes," Sam greeted her, closing the door behind Dean.

Her sarcasm amused Dean but made Sam very uncomfortable. 

"Thanks for coming," Nadia went in for a hug.

"Don't thank me yet," Pamela puts a hand up, stopping her. 

"That would be me," Ben said proudly, wedging himself between Nadia and Pamela, his grin wide as he puffed out his chest.

Pamela reached out, her hand brushing against his chest and then patting the top of his head. Her expression softened. It had been a while since she'd seen him, and he was much taller than she remembered.

"Benji," she said with a teasing smile, grabbing his cheeks and giving them a playful squeeze. He winced, trying to pull away but not entirely succeeding. "So, we're lettin' the kids make the decisions around here, are we?"

Ben's confidence faltered, but Nadia quickly stepped in.

"To be fair," Nadia said, giving Pamela a pointed look, "it's not the worst plan. You just—"

"You want to rip your souls out of your bodies and take a little stroll through the spirit world?" Pamela cut her off, her tone incredulous. She folded her arms and cocked an eyebrow, looking between all of them like they'd lost their minds.

"The boys' bodies," Nadia corrected firmly, motioning toward Sam and Dean with a calm wave of her hand. "I'd like to keep mine intact, thank you very much. These two are already tainted in the death department."

Sam and Dean both shot her unimpressed looks, scoffing in unison.

"Which means you're more up to the task than I am," Nadia added with a smirk, trying to soften the blow. The joke didn't quite land; both brothers still looked annoyed.

"Do you have any idea how heavy-duty insane that is?" Pamela asked, crossing her arms tighter over her chest.

"That's why we called you," Ben chimed in, attempting to jump back into the conversation and defend the plan.

Pamela's sharp gaze turned to him, and she gave his shoulder a quick squeeze, her expression still skeptical. "Honey, flattery will get you nowhere," she said with a wry smile.

"Look," Nadia began, her tone shifting to one of calm reason. "We know it's heavy-duty—"

"But that's where the reaper is," Dean interrupted. His jaw was tight, his tone firm, like that alone should settle the matter. "So..."

"So, it's nuts," she countered flatly.

Dean shrugged. "Not if you know what you're doing," he said with his trademark smirk. imaginable.

"You don't know what you're doing," Pamela shot back without missing a beat.

Dean's smirk widened as he pointed at her. "No, but you do."

Pamela let out a sharp laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, I do. And guess what?"

Nadia looked away, her jaw tightening as she wrestled with her thoughts. Whether the plan was stupid or not, she couldn't help the bitter taste in her mouth. After everything that had happened with Castiel, she had every right not to want to help them.

Dean, on the other hand, was all business. "Look, I'd love to be kicking back with a cold one, watching Judge Judy, too," he sassed, his tone laced with sarcasm. He understood her hesitation but was laser-focused on the bigger picture: stopping another seal from being broken.

Pamela tilted her head in his direction, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Nice. More blind jokes?" she quipped, her voice dripping with annoyance.

Dean winced slightly but said nothing, the room growing tense in the awkward silence.

"Okay, everyone, relax," Nadia said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She stepped forward and took Pamela's hands gently in hers, grounding the conversation with sincerity. Her calm yet commanding presence made everyone shift their focus. 

"Listen," she began. "We know this is crazy. It's dangerous. And after all that you've been through, I can't blame you if you want to walk out of here right now." Her voice softened as she continued. "But this is the apocalypse we're talking about—the whole world is at stake. And we could really use your help trying to save it."

Pamela let out a scoff, shaking her head as though the sheer absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on her. She squeezed Nadia's hands, a small, reluctant smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "How the hell could I say no to that, Angel Face?"

The room seemed to collectively exhale, the tension melting away in quiet relief. Pamela and Nadia embraced tightly, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

"You owe me a drink," Pamela murmured in Nadia's ear, her tone warm but teasing.

Nadia pulled back, laughing softly. "You got it," she promised with a grin.

Dean, standing off to the side, muttered under his breath, "Glad we're all friends again," but the edge in his voice had softened, and he looked visibly more relaxed.

The moment of camaraderie hung in the air briefly before the weight of what they were about to face settled back in, each of them silently bracing themselves for what was to come.

Ben stood idly by with Pamela as the others got the room ready. The curtains were drawn, shutting out the pale daylight, and the flickering glow of candlelight painted the walls in a soft amber hue. Shadows danced across the beds as the air grew heavier with anticipation.

"There you go," Nadia said, guiding Pamela to the chair they'd set between the beds. Ben moved quickly to help her settle in, his nervous energy evident in the way his hands fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie.

Dean placed the last candle on the right bedside table, the flame quivering as he stepped back.

Pamela leaned back, crossing her arms. "Tell me something, geniuses. Even if you do break into the veil and find the reaper, how exactly are you planning to save it?"

Dean smirked, the sarcasm dripping off his words. "With style and class."

Pamela's unimpressed snort was almost drowned out by Nadia's sigh. She shot Dean a look that clearly said, Really?

"She has a point, Dean," Nadia muttered, arms crossing as her worry deepened. It gnawed at her, a quiet voice in the back of her mind reminding her how reckless this plan was.

"Yeah," Pamela said, gesturing to them like she was talking to two unruly children. "You're gonna be two walking pieces of fog who can't touch or move anything. Defenseless, hotshot."

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but Sam beat him to it. "I seem to recall a bunch of ghosts beating the crap out of us," he said, his tone matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, well, they had plenty of time to practice," Pamela points out. "And you? You're diving in headfirst without a clue. You'll be sitting ducks in there."

Dean shrugged, his typical bravado shining through. "Well, then, I guess we gotta start cramming."

Pamela rolled her eyes, muttering, "Wow. Couple of heroes." Her voice was heavy with sarcasm, but beneath it was genuine concern. She clearly wasn't thrilled about this plan, and the brothers' nonchalance wasn't helping.

The room fell silent, the tension thickening like a storm cloud. Nadia's gaze lingered on the boys, her worry written all over her face. How am I supposed to protect them if they're ghosts? The thought clawed at her, leaving her feeling powerless.

But as reckless as the plan was, it was the only one they had.

Pamela exhaled heavily, patting the edge of the bed as if resigning herself to the madness. "All right. Lie down. Close your eyes."

Dean stepped over to Nadia first, running his hand down her arm, in a silent attempt to calm her. She gave him a small nod, though the crease in her brow didn't fade. He climbed onto the bed and stretched out, hands crossed behind his head as if he were sunbathing instead of preparing to throw himself into the veil.

Sam, ever the opposite, laid diagonally across the bed, his hands folded over his stomach, his expression serious.

Pamela began the spell, her voice steady as she spoke the incantation. "Animum vult decipi, ergo decipiatur. Vis, vis, vis."

When she finished, she scratched her head, her discomfort obvious. "Okay, guys. That's it. Showtime."

Ben and Nadia exchanged a glance, both expecting something a bit more... dramatic. Nadia opened her mouth to ask if it had worked when she noticed movement.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched Dean sit up—his body remaining perfectly still on the bed.

"Well, nothing like shooting blanks," Dean grunted, clearly unaware of his surroundings.

"Dean," Nadia said, pointing at his still body. "You might wanna take a look."

Dean turned, his eyes widening as he saw himself. Sam was already hovering over his own body, his expression equal parts awe and unease.

"It worked," Sam said, his voice laced with disbelief.

Pamela tilted her head in Nadia's direction. "You can see them?"

"Yeah," Nadia said, almost breathless. "Must be the angel thing." Her eyes stayed fixed on Dean. She hated this plan, but at least now she'd be able to keep an eye on them.

"Well, since they're over the rainbow," Pamela said, standing. She moved over to Sam, leaning close with a smirk. "Remember, I have to bring you back. I'll whisper the incantation in your ear..."

Nadia's eyes narrowed. Knowing Pamela all too well, she reached out and clamped her hands over Ben's ears.

"You have got a great ass," Pamela whispered to Sam.

Sam chuckled, his cheeks reddening slightly.

Dean frowned, glancing between them. "What'd she say?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly, but when Dean turned to Nadia, she shook her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "You don't wanna know."

Dean's eyes narrowed, but before he could press further, Nadia stepped forward, her tone soft but firm. "Be careful out there."

Dean's expression softened. "Always am."

Nadia raised an eyebrow. Sure you are, her look seemed to say.

Pamela, meanwhile, clapped her hands together. "All right, hotshots. Off you go."

The brothers stepped through the wall, their forms disappearing into the cold, muted light of the day outside.

The silence they left behind was eerie, made worse by the sight of their lifeless bodies still on the beds.

"You should go with them," Pamela said, breaking the quiet. Her tone was pragmatic, but there was an edge of concern. "You can see them. They can't save their own asses, but you can."

Nadia hesitated, her gaze flicking to Ben. She didn't like the idea of leaving him alone.

"Go," Pamela said, waving her off. "I'll watch the kid."

Nadia crossed her arms, her lips pursed. "Oh, so now you're making the blind jokes?"

Pamela smirked. "What can I say? Gotta laugh to keep from crying." She reached out, finding Ben's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll be fine."

Ben nodded, his expression serious. "Go. I'll be okay."

Nadia studied him for a moment longer before sighing. "All right." She grabbed her jacket, slinging it over her shoulders. "If you need me, call. If I don't answer—"

"Pray," Ben finished for her with a faint smile.

"And if Dad and Irene call?"

"We're bonding," he said, "and I'm having the time of my life."

"That's my boy," Nadia nodded.

She gave him one last look before stepping outside. The cold air bit at her skin, and she pulled her jacket tighter around herself as she scanned the street.

She spotted the boys up ahead on the sidewalk, Dean laughing as he stuck his fist straight through Sam. Sam's unimpressed scowl only made Dean laugh harder.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" Nadia squints, her gaze darting between the brothers.

Dean's easy smile faded in an instant. He quickly dropped his arm, pulling his fist back as though caught red-handed. "Uh, no. Just, you know, screwing around." He cleared his throat, shifting his weight awkwardly. "You coming with?"

Nadia tilted her head slightly, her expression calm but curious. "Yeah. Pam thought it'd be a good idea since I can see you and actually touch things. I'm not ruining the party, am I?" Her eyes lingered on Sam.

The tension in the air was subtle but noticeable. Though her tone was casual, she hadn't forgotten the heated exchange with Sam from earlier. She didn't want to make things uncomfortable—but she wasn't about to pretend it hadn't happened, either.

"Of course not," Dean chimed in. "Right, Sammy?" He swung his arm toward Sam's shoulder, clearly out of habit, only to have his hand pass right through him. Dean scowled at the reminder, muttering under his breath, "Damn ghost crap."

Sam nodded stiffly, avoiding her gaze. "Right,"

Time dragged on for the next few hours as Nadia and the boys combed the town for any signs of the supernatural. Nadia moved with a sense of unease, doing her best to keep up with Sam and Dean while also remaining careful not to bump into anyone. She could feel the stares of curious onlookers, and her skin prickled with discomfort.

"Oh, man, we've been spooking this town for hours," Dean muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. "No demons, no black smoke... nothing." He pouted, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets as they crossed the street, the wind whipping through the quiet town.

"I know. But there's gotta be something around here," Nadia replied, offering a small smile to a stranger who glanced their way. She was trying to stay positive, but the sense of futility gnawed at her.

"Hey," Sam's voice broke through the quiet. He stopped, pointing off to the side. "Three o'clock. Kid in the window."

Dean and Nadia turned to follow his gaze. There, in a modest house tucked between the others, a young boy was staring out the window with an intense, almost hard expression on his face. His eyes seemed to lock onto theirs, cold and unwavering, as though he knew exactly who they were.

"Am I crazy, or is he looking at us?" Nadia murmured, her brow furrowed as she studied the boy.

"It's 'cause we've seen him before," Dean replied, narrowing his eyes. He took a step closer to the curb, eyes trained on the window. 

"We have?" asked Sam.

"Newspaper," Dean said, his voice taking on a grave tone. "Cole Griffith. The last person to die in this town."

The air around them seemed to still, and Nadia's chest tightened as the boy in the window flickered for a moment, then vanished from sight entirely, like a ghost slipping into the shadows.

The boys started heading toward the house when they noticed Nadia wasn't following.

"You comin'?" Dean asked, glancing back at her.

"Somebody's home," she said, motioning toward the car parked in the driveway. A thoughtful look crossed her face as her eyes flicked toward the corner market they had passed earlier. "I'll meet you guys inside."

Dean hesitated for a moment, narrowing his eyes. "What're you up to?"

"Trust me," she said with a small smile before turning on her heel and heading across the street.

Dean watched her go, grumbling under his breath. "She's up to something."

"She'll be fine," Sam reassured him.

Inside the house, the boys barely made it to the hallway before Cole's mother came sprinting out of a bedroom, dodging small objects that seemed to fly through the air on their own.

"Stop!" Dean barked, ducking to avoid a baseball. "How the hell are you doing that?"

"Who are you?" Cole demanded, his voice sharp with fear as he kept his distance.

"Relax, Cole. It's okay," Sam said gently, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.

Cole's eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"

"Look," Sam began, his tone careful, "this isn't gonna be easy to hear, but...you're—dead."

Cole's eyebrows shot up, and then he folded his arms, his expression defiant.

"You're a spirit. Us too," Sam added quickly, trying to keep the kid calm.

"Yeah, thanks, Haley Joel. I know I'm dead," Cole said sarcastically, catching both brothers off guard. "What do you want?"

"We just want to talk," Dean said, straightening up and brushing dust off his jacket.

"About what?" Cole asked skeptically.

Minutes later, Sam and Dean were sitting at the dining room table while Cole lingered in the entryway. Across the room, they watched as Nadia comforted Cole's intoxicated mother, who was now sobbing uncontrollably into the angel's shoulder.

It had been easier than Nadia anticipated. She'd walked up to the door holding a freshly baked pie she'd purchased from the market, smiled warmly, and claimed to be new in the neighborhood. 

Cole's mother had been suspicious at first, but as Nadia gently chatted about nothing in particular, her guard lowered. Now, the woman was weeping, her emotions pouring out as if Nadia had somehow unlocked them. 

It wasn't long before Nadia was helping her to her bed, and helping her drift off to sleep. 

Cole watched his mother with a sorrowful expression. "I was outside all morning," he said, breaking the silence. He turned to the brothers. "They always tell you to be careful when it's cold."

"Cold air can cause an asthma attack?" Dean asked, piecing it together.

Cole nodded, his shoulders slumping. "It happened so fast. I went back to my room, and everything started spinning. I tried to call out for my mom, but...nothing came out. Next thing I knew, I was just standing there, looking down at my body."

His voice grew quieter as he leaned on the table, staring at the surface as if reliving the moment. "That's when I saw the man."

Sam's brow furrowed. "What man?"

"Creepy old guy in a black suit. He told me I had to go with him, but..." Cole trailed off, glancing at his mother, who Nadia was now helping toward the stairs.

"You didn't want to go," Sam finished.

Cole nodded.

"Reaper," Sam muttered to Dean, who gave a small grunt of agreement. "How'd you get rid of him?"

"I didn't," Cole said, his voice trembling. "The black smoke did."

Dean leaned forward, his jaw tightening. "Black smoke?"

"It was everywhere," Cole said, shivering at the memory. "I hid in my closet. When I came out, it was gone, and so was the creepy guy."

"Do you know where the smoke went?" Dean asked.

"No," Cole admitted. "But I know where it is."

Before they could ask him to elaborate, the lights flickered, and a cold gust of wind swept through the house. Cole's eyes widened in terror.

"They're back," he whispered before vanishing on the spot.

"Who?" Dean demanded, but there was no answer.

Suddenly, a white figure drifted through the dining room and floated up the stairs, its translucent form glowing faintly in the dim light.

"Another reaper," Sam said, getting to his feet.

"Hey!" Dean called, running to the base of the stairs. "Hey! Wait! We need to talk to you!"

The figure paused mid-step, turning slowly to face them. Its ethereal form flickered, solidifying into the shape of a woman. She descended the stairs with a serene but unsettling calm, her empty gaze fixed on Dean.

Sam looked at his brother; he was just as confused.

Tessa walked past them into the living room, her posture casual but her gaze sharp. She slipped her hands into her back pockets and turned to face them. "You don't remember me?"

Dean exchanged a quick look with Sam before stepping forward. "Should I?" he asked, shrugging slightly. "Honestly, if I had a nickel for every time I heard a girl say that... you're gonna have to freshen my memory."

Tessa raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement tugging at her lips. She didn't reply right away, letting the silence hang in the air just long enough to unsettle them. Then, without warning, she stepped toward Dean.

He barely had time to react before she grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him into a kiss.

The touch was electric—not with passion, but with something deeper, something otherworldly. Dean's eyes widened as flashes of memory exploded in his mind. He was back in a hospital bed in 2006, gasping for breath, his body barely clinging to life. Her face hovered over his, calm and otherworldly, urging him to let go, to cross over.

Tessa pulled away slowly, leaving Dean rooted to the spot, his lips parted slightly as he tried to process what just happened.

"That's one of my names, yeah," Tessa confirms, her voice calm.

Before anyone could respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat drew their attention. Nadia stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, her sharp gaze locked on Dean.

"So, you do know her?" she asked, her tone even, though her eyes told another story. She walked into the room with quiet confidence, her boots clicking softly against the floor.

Dean froze for a moment, then awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard. "Yeah, uh... from the hospital. After the accident."

"The accident with Dad?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes as he tried to piece things together.

Dean nodded. "Yeah, babe, this is the reaper that was after me," he admitted reluctantly, his eyes flicking toward Nadia, already bracing for her reaction.

Tessa's lips curled into a small, amused smile as realization dawned. She glanced between Dean and Nadia, her amusement growing at the tension in the air. "Ah, I get it now," she said lightly. "It's not like that. Trust me. He's cute, but a little too stubborn for my taste."

Dean frowned, clearly not enjoying the commentary. "Hey!"

Nadia exhaled sharply, her expression unreadable for a moment. She wasn't one for jealousy—she trusted Dean—but there was something about this whole situation that rubbed her the wrong way. Still, there were bigger problems to deal with. 

After speaking with Cole's mother, the urgency of getting the boy to move on had become crystal clear. But with demons in the mix, they needed Cole for a little while longer. The sooner they resolved this, the sooner his mother could finally heal.

"Yeah, sure," she muttered, brushing her irritation aside. She folded her arms tighter as she turned her attention back to Tessa.

Sensing the shift in tone, the reaper began moving toward the stairs. "Well, this was fun," she said breezily.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait—you can't take the kid," Dean said, stepping in front of her.

Tessa arched an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Demons are in town, that's why. They've already snatched your reaper pal. The kid knows where," Dean explained.

Tessa looked unimpressed. "So?"

Sam leaned forward, his voice blunt. "So, you should shag ass. For all we know, they could try and snatch you, too."

"I'm with Sam on this one," Nadia added, sitting on the edge of the couch. She smirked faintly. "Especially the shag ass part."

Tessa crossed her arms, staring them down. "Except this town is off the rails," she said. "And someone has to set it straight."

"Yeah, we get that," Dean said, his voice more measured now. "But these are special circumstances."

Tessa tilted her head. "What? Your whole angel-demon dance-off? I could care less. I just want to do my job."

"Right, yeah," Sam said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "And, look, we want to help you do your job. So, if you would just bail town—"

"No," Tessa interrupted firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"Well, we're not asking," Nadia said as she stood, a polite but pointed smile on her face.

Tessa's eyes narrowed slightly as she turned to face her.

Nadia took a step closer, her voice steady but layered with emotion. "Listen, I just had that boy's mother sobbing in my arms. She's drowning in guilt over his death. She can't sleep because she feels him haunting this place, and the only way she gets any rest is by drinking herself into oblivion. We all want Cole to pass on as much as you do. But right now, we need him. So, how about this—you let us do our job, and we'll make sure you get back to yours."

For a moment, the room was silent as Tessa studied Nadia. Finally, she sighed, clearly reluctant but willing. "All right. But just so we're clear, when I start reaping again, I'm starting with the kid."

"Understood," Nadia said, her tone firm.

Sam nodded and headed for the stairs. "I'll find him."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean called after him. "What are you gonna say to him?"

Sam paused, glancing back. "Whatever I have to," he said before disappearing upstairs.

Nadia turned to follow, but Dean stepped in front of her, his brow furrowed. "Where are you going? And how's Cole's mom?"

"She'll be asleep for a while," Nadia said, her eyes glowing faintly for just a moment—a clear sign she'd used her angelic grace to help the grieving woman rest. Then she folded her arms and smirked at Dean. "Thought I'd leave you and your reaper girlfriend to catch up."

"Robin, it's not like—" Dean began, but Nadia didn't wait for him to finish. She brushed past him, her footsteps heavy as she stomped up the stairs.

Behind him, Tessa chuckled softly, clearly amused. "She's lovely, Dean," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.