"Scars remind us of where we've been, they don't have to dictate where we're going." - SSA David Rossi

"You never apologized for hurting me but I apologized 30 times for being angry." - Unknown

• • •

Two weeks had come and gone. Noah hadn't taken another case since, he needed time to calm down, especially with Nikki's birthday fast approaching right after the anniversary of Richard's...

Anyway, Noah was eating at a small diner. He was still in Missouri, he hadn't moved all that far. But his phone began ringing in his pocket, so he quickly finished the sip of coffee he was taking, the morning cold, and answered, "Hello?"

"Hey, Noah," Brian's voice greeted him. He nearly sighed in relief, if he had gotten one more call from the Winchesters, he might just explode. "Hey," Noah greeted, taking a bite of his bacon.

"I've got a case for you, you up for it yet?" Brian asked him. "Yeah, yeah, I think I'm ready to get back on that horse," Noah agreed as he brought a forkful of egg to his face.

"Okay, so this is in Mountain View, Arkansas, men all along the same neighborhood are found dead in their beds, with their throats slit, how I know it to be paranormal activity, you may ask? Well, apparently each victim's wife remembers waking up, but then it's like blacking out until suddenly they're waking up to their husbands with their throats slit," Brian explained. Noah hummed, nodding. It sounded intriguing.

"Hey, maybe when I'm through with it, I'll drop by your place," Noah proposed. The last time they saw each other, Brian had driven up to see him in the middle of a hunt, it woud be nice to spend some time at Brian's house.

"Yeah, maybe," Brian agreed, "Drive safe." "Okay Mom," Noah laughed.

• • •

Exiting his car, Noah carried his takeout to the bed, where he plopped down, grabbing a french fry from the bag. Opening his laptop, he sighed, "Okay, vengeful spirit? Seems simple enough."

He searched for an hour and he could not find a single violent death in any of the addresses. Deciding he would just have to visit the latest house in the morning, he closed his laptop, reaching into the takeout bag and pulling out a burger.

• • •

As dawn broke, Noah was wide awake, he had been awake for a while now. There was a reason he never took up cases in Arkansas, it always stirred up old memories.

"No," smack, "Son," smack, "Of mine," smack, "Will be," Smack, "A faggot."

"You sorry son of a bitch! You're brother died because of you!"

Whimpering, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I did wrong, please!"

"Take it or your sister will get it!" "NO! No! Anything but that." "Then stop crying, you will never amount to more than a whipping post!"

Noah blinked, closing his eyes tightly as he exhaled, pushing back the tears. Now wasn't the time for this. He had a crime scene to visit.

• • •

Taking cautious steps up the stairs, Noah crouched down, suddenly thankful for the cover that the porch fencing gave him. Quickly picking the lock with two paper clips, he slipped in. He walked upstairs, taking notice of how his footsteps echoed on the floor as he walked. There was no way that a human could've made their way in here and killed someone without waking anyone else up.

Looking into the room, he gazed around. He hated that this family had to go through this.

God knows he knew the feeling.

• • •

Stepping out of the house, he was clueless at this point. He folded, rolling his eyes as he pulled his phone from his pocket, pressing the first of their contacts that came up.

"Hello?" Dean answered. "Hey, Winchester," Noah greeted, seating himself back in his Jeep. "What's up?" Dean asked. "Look, I'm in Mountain View, Arkansas, and this hunt has me completely stumped, it seems like a vengeful spirit, but with them being killed in their homes, and none of the homes having a violent past, it just makes no sense, any suggestions?" Noah asked, his voice worn out.

"Funny you say that, we're in Concord, just wrapped up a case in Rhode Island, we were passing through down here while we searched for another case, give us, what? Half an hour? And we'll meet you at your motel, which one are you staying at?" Dean replied.

"Paradise Blue would be the stupidly cliche name," Noah rolled his eyes as he answered. "On our way," was Dean's simple reply.

• • •

Knocks sounding on the door, Noah stood from his seat at the desk. Mind still racng as he tried to come up with a solution, he didn't know what to think, but he shook his head, opening the door and allowing Sam and Dean in.

"So we took a look at it on the way here and you're right, vengeful spirit seems like what we're dealing with, but since there are no violent deaths in any of the homes, I'm thinking it's maybe attacked to an object?" Sam suggested, immediately jumping into the case.

"I looked into that, nothing in their credit card history seems to be the same other than the grocery store they go to because it's a small ass town," Noah shook his head with a sigh.

"Okay, what about history of the land?" Sam once more asked.

"Now that, I haven't done," Noah pursed his lips, "Come on, let's look into it."

Another hour passed, and they had looked as far back as there were records, nothing.

"Well if it's the land's history, we'll never know," Dean sighed. "Yeah, no shit sherlock," Noah muttered, rubbing his eyes.

"Why don't we look into it again later and see what we can figure out by talking to the families?" Sam proposed. Noah pointed at him, "Now that's an idea."

"Suits?" Dean asked his brother. "Suits," Sam nodded back.

• • •

Knocking on the door before stepping back, the trio waited, FBI badges in hand. The door opened and a red-headed woman slowly stepped out through the screen door, "Yes? How can I help you?"

Noah recognized her body language, she seemed timid and defensive. Victim behavior. "Hi, I'm Agent Hale, these are my partners, Agents Bennett and Gerard, we're here to speak to you about your late husband," Noah introduced the three.

"Oh, um..." she bit the inside of her cheek before stepping aside," Come in."

• • •

Three wives later and Noah was beginning to see a pattern. He even saw it in the kids that he had seen. All of them held traits that victims of abuse develop over years worth of trauma. Some were physical tells, like flinches. Others were reading too far into certain statements, like they're err looking for the backhanded meaning. It just can't be coincidental.

He found himself voicing this, "Okay, that's freaky." "What?' Sam asked. Noah sighed, "Did you see how they would slightly flinch away from you? Asking a question, they would immediately launch into an answer? Or how they would keep their eyes down when you're talking, like they're waiting for you to insult them or snap at them? Telltale signs of a victim of abuse."

Sam and Dean shared a look, "Okay, so we have an M.O. for our ghost, but we've gotta find out who they are before we can do anything," Dean stated.

"True, so now let's look for deaths as result of neglect or abandonment, see if maybe that's where we're looking," Noah suggested. The two nodded and they each took a seat in their cars.

• • •

Scrolling, Noah's eyes were beginning to hurt from staring at the screen from so long. Sam sighed from across the room as Dean returned with food, "Nothing?"

"Nothing," Noah and Sam replied in unison. Noah groaned," Why must this job be so difficult?"

"Okay, we still haven't talked to the latest victim's family, maybe we should do that and refresh our minds before we get back to that?" Dean suggested, seeing how mentlly exhausted his brother and their friend were.

"Okay, sounds like a plan," Sam agrees, shutting his computer. Noah just stares into space, prompting the two brothers to look at him in concer, "Noah?"

"Huh? What? Sorry," Noah blinked, snapping out of his daze. The nightmare from the night before still lingered in his mind, as his siblings and his mother yelled at him, blaming him, as his father stared him down, beat him, and degraded him for his orientation. It all was hitting a little too hard and a little too fast.

"Maybe we should go talk to the latest victim's family and take a breath away from research?" Dean repeated. "Yeah, yeah,"Noah cleared his throat as he nodded, standing up, "Yeah."

• • •

"So, Ms. Shaw, you said in your police report that you didn't hear anything at all, just woke up, and..." Noah trailed, trying to be respectful. "And he was gone," Ms. Shaw nodded.

A kid suddenly ran in, maybe four or five, and ran up to their mother, hugging her tightly. "Well hi," Noah greeted warmly at the kid, who stared at him untrustingly. And not the typical distrust of a stranger from a kid, this was more outspoken than that.

Ms. Shaw chuckled lightly at her child's behavior, " This is Max, Max, can you say hi to the FBI agents? They're gonna try and help figure out who hurt Daddy."

"I don't want anybody to find out who hurt Daddy," the kid muttered. Noah immediately perked. A confirmed pattern.

Ms. Shaw nervously laughed, "Oh honey, don't be silly, of course you want them to find out what happened." "No I don't, Daddy was mean," the child spoke quietly, keeping his head down.

Noah stood up, and he saw as both the kid and Ms. Shaw flinched on instinct. There was no denying it, he knew that behavior better than anyone, he lived with it every day of his life, he saw it in the mirror every morning.

"Ma'am, would you mind?" He calmly asked, trying to add a soothing undertone as best he could, gesturing to the hallway. He saw her gulp as she nodded, standing from the couch. Sam and Dean stared after him in confusion as he took Ms. Shaw into the hallway.

"Look, I'm going to be honest, I don't want to pry in any way, but this information could change the entire basis of the case, and I would appreciate it if you answered me honestly," he told her, keeping quiet and making sure his voice wasn't harsh in any way. She nodded timidly.

"Was your husband abusive, in any form of the word?" he asked her. She immediately shook her head rapidly, denying the possibilty,"No, no, no."

"Ms. Shaw, I really need you to be honest with me, and I understand why you wouldn't want to tell me, because then that makes you a victim, or maybe you're trying to keep your kids, or maybe you've suffered long enough that you want to defend him, but the best thing you could do right now for yourself, your kids, and the other women and children in this neighborhood, is tell me the truth," Noah persuaded.

"No! No, James would never hurt me, let alone one of the kids," she was practically shaking as she answered, tears coming in her eyes. "Listen to me, okay? He can't hurt you anymore, okay? So I need you to tell me if he did," Noah tried again.

"No, dammit! How many times do you have to hear that?!" she shouted at him, tears streming down her face. "Ms. Shaw, I'm gonna be perfectly honest with you, but I need this to stay between us, okay? My father beat me when I was a kid, I ran away when I was 14, I will understand you more than anything, but right now, honesty is the best privilege you could honor me with," he confided, trying to establish a bond.

She sobbed, shaking,"Just because he shoved me around a little or I read too far into what he said sometimes doesn't make him an abuser! And I would never in my life let him hurt my kids."

Noah took note of how she called them 'my kids'. "Ms. Shaw, please, I don't want to offend you... and I know you want to protect your children, but if he was abusive in the manner you seem to be implying, that could change the entire course of our investigation, so please... just cooperate."

She just shook her head, running a hand through her hair," I can't do this."

He gently placed his hand on her shoulder, showing her comfort, "It's okay, I understand, thank you for being as cooperative as possible, I applaud your strength."

She nodded at him, wiping her tears away as she finally caught her breath.

He took his hand off of her shoulder and walked back into the living room, where Sam and Dean were seated at the couch. He gave them a nod, showing they were good to go.

The two stood up, bid the woman and her children farewell before walking out. Outside, Noah sighed as he began untying his tie, striding towards the Jeep, "Well that confirms it for me, the victims were most likely all abusive in nature towards their families, we've definitely gotta start looking into the lore of that-"

"Noah?" His blood ran cold. That... no, it couldn't be. That couldn't be his voice. Not now. Not here. And surely, not today.

He and the boys turned around. Sure enough, there was that same face from all those goddamned years ago, only with more wrinkles and going gray.

He stared at him for a moment, not saying anything. "What... God, what are you doing here? I haven't seen you in years, boy." It sent a shiver down his spine.

"Nicholas, just... don't okay? I buried that hatchet a long time ago, please just..." Noah trailed off as memories flooded back. He blinked, tears rimming his eyes. He blinked them back, he was not crying here, turning around.

"Don't you dare call me by name, boy! You are my son, and I am your father, and you shall treat me as such!" Nicholas shouted at him in the middle of the street. Noah could tell Sam and Dean were confused as he flinched, refusing to turn back to face him.

Nicholas grabbed his wrist, and suddenly Noah was filled with anger. This man was not allowed to have this much control over him, not after everything he'd done, he didn't deserve the satisfaction.

"Where the hell did you disappear to, huh? You killed your momma and your sister and you left? You should've known better than that," Nicholas spoke, getting into his face as venom dripped off his words.

"No, asshole, I ran away to get away from you, and by the way, I'm not twelve years old anymore, I'm not your little bitch, I have nothing to protect and no one to lose, I seized to be your son the moment you laid a hand on me, now let me go," Noah demanded, lip twitching in anger as his eyes were aflame. Like you lit a bottle of whiskey on fire, and just watched it burn.

"How dare you talk to me like that!" Nicholas screamed at him, pulling him closer to him. Noah's lip curled and he spat in Nicholas' face. Nicholas released his hand in shock, and Noah grabbed his wrist, turning him around and twisting his arm behind his back. Nicholas cried out in pain.

"This outta feel familiar, huh?" Noah taunted, "I am a grown ass man now, and you have no control over me, so get the fuck out of my life and stay out of it."

He let go with force, which shoved Nicholas forward. When the vile man turned back to face his son, Noah's back had already turned to him as he stalked back to his Jeep, throwing up his middle finger behind him.

Sam and Dean stared at him in shock as he walked right past them, throwing off his tie. He opened the door to his car, tossing the tie and his suit jacket inside and unbuttoning his shirt, leaving him in a tank top. He grabbed a flannel, throwing it on over the tank top, rolling the sleeves up as Sam and Dean walk over. He hardened his expression.

"What the hell was that about?" Dean asked him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. "None of your damn business," Noah snapped as he pulled off the dress shoes on his feet, reaching for his hiking boots. Dean recoiled and he and Sam shared a look.

"Just... don't, okay? Just don't even ask," Noah sighed, switching out his dress shoes for his boots.

They had heard enough as it was, they could make their own assumptions. But they didn't need the full story. That was Noah's problem to deal with, not their's. And it is surely none of their business.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to get back into my jeans in the back seat of my Jeep so I can feed my german shepherd, thank you," Noah told them in a short tone as he stepped into the Jeep and shut the door behind him.

• • •

Smacking his hand down on the table, Noah set his head into his other hand as he sighed out shakily. Between the emotional overwhelming feelings looming over his head, and the stress of not being able to figure out how to work this case, he was ready to shut down at this point.

"Noah," Dean started cautiously but before he could continue, Noah held up his hand, "Don't... just don't even." Noah sighed, running a hand through his hair, "Alright, we need new parameters, this is getting exhausting."

"Well, actually," Sam's lips turned upward, "This seems promising."

"What? What is it?" Noah grew excited at the prospect of finding something useful.

"About four years ago, fairly recent, a young boy named Séan Harrison was left on the main road of that neighborhood at ten years old, he was taken into foster care, tossed between home's for a few years, before he killed himself at seventeen when his foster mother died in a car crash, he was taken out of past homes for abuse, and he had clearly been neglected and abused when he was found," Sam explains.

"Nice job, Sammy," Dean praised his brother. "Alright, you got a grave sight?" Noah asked, already pulling on his coat, and grabbing Delta's leash. "Yeah, only thing is it's on the other side of town, and with the pattern he's been following, "Sam sighed, "Of course, he'll probably attack tonight."

Noah blinked, "Dammit," He crossed his arms. "Same sub-division every time, right? Moving up and down the streets in a pattern?" Noah asked. Sam nodded. He looked down, he couldn't believe he was doing this.

"Alright, you two go salt and burn, I'm gonna..." Noah trailed.

Sam and Dean shared a look, but obeyed none the less, grabbing their things.

Noah looked to Delta shaking his head with a sad and broken laugh, "It's never easy, is it girl?"

• • •

Waiting, Noah peered through his bonoculars. The boys had yet to call him, but Séan had yet to attack. He watched as the curtains moved, and he looked back to Delta, who sat up at alert. He wondered what he was doing for a moment. Why he was saving someone who deserved whatever fate held for him.

...But if he could prevent his death, and didn't, that would make him just as bad as Nicholas. Noah sighed, shaking his head. He felt he was doing that a little too often these days. Why? Why must his life be so godforsakenly-

He thoughts were cut off as a loud crash came from inside the rickety old house he was parked in front of. He hopped out, giving Delta hardly any time to jump out, making her take the window. He sprinted, iron loaded pistol locked and loaded.

He panted, completely out of breath as he looked around, a male scream coming from upstairs. He quickly found the staircase, rushing upstairs and throwing open the bedroom door.

Blood. Everywhere. Séan's form flickered in and out of sight from above Nicholas' bloodied and limp body. Noah fired three iron rounds, making Séan dissipate.

Séan reappeared behind him as he took a step forward. "Shouldn't you be thankful? It's over, he's gone," He tried to comfort him, and Noah understood, he understood that more than anything. All in all, ghosts are just angry or resiliant versions of those who were once people. Some bad, others worse. Some of their motivations make sense, but Noah tries not to let any human die on his watch.

Noah blinked, allowing the tears to fall as he cupped a hand over his mouth. He had nobody left. No one who was blood at least, that was at least a little heartbreaking. No matter how much he hated Nicholas, he wanted him dead, it hurt to know that nothing of the family that once was was left. Noah reached up, grasping the cross necklace around his throat, holding tight enough that it started to draw blood from digging into his skin.

He grit his teeth, "No," he hissed between them, "No, this can't be happening." He started sobbing, he couldn't catch his breath.

He suddenly felt the air around him change, shift, like a soft breeze was blowing through, and he turned around. Séan stared at him mournfully, "I'm sorry."

"Please, find peace, and rest well," Noah pursed his lips, nodding at him. Séan gave him a thankful look before Noah watched as he apirated into smalls whisps of flame and ash, before nothing was left of him.

Not a moment later, his phone rang. He answered numbly, not even greeting them. "Salted and burned," Dean panted through the phone.

"Okay, good, thanks," Noah replied in monotone.

• • •

Dean looked to his brother in concern for their friend before returning to the call, "Uh, Noah, you okay, buddy?"

"He's dead," Came Noah's whispered reply. "What?" Dean asked in shock. "I didn't get to him in time, he's dead," Noah stated a little louder, clearing his throat and trying to sound casual.

"Um... oh, I'm sorry, man, I really don't know what to say, "Dean offered his condolences. "Yeah," Noah faintly responded, he sounded lightheaded.

"Are you okay, Noah?" Dean repeated. All he heard was a loud thud on the other end. He turned back to his brother, eyes wide. "Let's go, now," he ushered.

• • •

Blinking his eyes open, Noah looked around the room, his view hazed and his movement void of all energy. He was in a hospital, he could tell from the amount of white and the sterile smell of alcohol.

Glancing around the room, he saw Sam, Dean, and a doctor talking. He groaned quietly under his breath as he tried to move, he felt extrememly groggy and as he felt the IV in his hand, he realized it was likely from whatever medicine they were giving him.

The sound grabbed the three people's attention. "Hi Mr. Lewis," the doctor greeted him, "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted, and my head hurts a bit," Noah sighed. "Well, you bumped yoru head when you passed out," she explained, "So, I would like to discuss what occured with you, but I didn't know if you would be okay with you if I discussed the details in front of your friends here, so we needed to wait for you to be concsious."

He analyzed her, seeing how her eyes held a solemn looked and her lips were turned downwards. It was serious. "Um, no, I'll inform them later."

She nodded, "Alright, well gentlemen, if you would kindly step out for a moment," she politely requested them. The two nodded, stepping out of the room.

• • •

Sam and Dean looked at one another, slightly worried fro their friend. "Let's go get something from the vending machine, I'm sure he'd appreciate something with some sugar or caffiene in it," Sam suggested.

Dean nodded, agreeing, and the three walked off down the hall.

After retrieving two sodas, a lemonade, some chips, and a granola bar, the pair returned just as the doctor exited the room, giving them both a nod with a tight-lipped smile. They both looked to one another again, speaking unspoken words. Whatever had happened, it didn't bode well.

They entered the room again, seeing Noah pulling on his jeans underneath the gown, his eyes red and swollen, he had clearly been crying. He turned around as he heard their footsteps, nodding at them in greeting, which they each returned.

After a moment of silence as he buttoned his pants, he turned back to them, untying the tie on his gown. He sighed, "Well, she said it was essentially from all of the stress that the past few days has put on me, plus the lack of sleep, basically, being back in Arkansas was giving me nightmares and making it hard to sleep, and putting a lot of stress on me with everything being stirred back up, and then the stress of he hunt and seeing Nicholas, and... and Nicholas' death, it was all just a little... much," he explained.

The two brothers nodded, that would explain the crying. "I just..." Noah sighed again, "Okay, I'm gonna be honest with the two of you because I want it to be out in the fucking open, okay? After my little brother died when I was twelve, my father started drinking, but he didn't just get drunk, he... he got violent, and in order to protect what family I had left, I didn't say anything, so when I ran away, it's safe to say that I severed ties with him altogether for obvious reasons, that's... that's what the incident in the street was about, and that's why Séan went after him and that's why he died."

They stared at him in slight shock. They had suspected something, especially with the argument and then when he left so suddenly when they went to salt and burn... hearing out loud was a whole other thing. Sam felt like the wind had been knocked out of him a bit.

Sam was the first to stand as Noah had his back turned, grabbing a t-shirt. He gently placed a hand on Noah's shoulder, making him look to him as Dean also stood up. The three shared a short embrace, one of understadning, one of comfort. When they pulled back, Dean's lips twisted upwards into a small grin, "Alright, no more chick flick moments."

Sam laughed, "Oh whatever, Jerk." "Bitch," was Dean's simple reply. The banter was enough to encourage a laugh from Noah, making both of the brothers smile.

But Noah knew the truth. That this wasn't over, and that... that this wouldn't end well...

And it broke his heart.

• • •

Author Note: Look I'm... I'm sorry, y'all but this is just the beginning. It's gonna go downhill from here, at least for the rest of Act 1. Act 2 might be slightly better, God knows Act 3 will be a nightmare of an emotional shitstorm. But uh... it had to be done. Those of you who don't know what I'm talking about... well, just you wait until next Act.