~*****~

Sam and I ended up leaving Dean at Adam's house to follow up on the cops, and to dig into the history of the town. "Will you excuse us for a minute?" I ask hesitantly as I peer into the room Adam and Dean are in.

Adam nods and Dean follows after me. "You talk to the cops?" Dean asks us.

"Yeah, like Adam said, no leads on his mom," Sam says.

Dean hummed. "Shocker there."

"But, we did find this," I mention. "Here-- In nineteen ninety, there were seventeen grave robberies in Windom."

"You think that's why Dad came through here?" Dean asked.

I shrug. "I'd say so. Check it--" I point to the small, grainy image of John just peeking out from behind a tree during the crime scene photo.

"All right, so he was hunting something. What?" Dean asked.

"We'd probably know if those pages from John's journal weren't ripped out." I mention bitterly. "But last month, the corpse-snatching started up again-- three local bodies from the local cemetery."

"So whatever he was after, he didn't kill it." Dean comments. "It's back."

"And, what-- it's stepped up its game to fresh meat?" Sam asks. "I mean, Kate's missing, and, uh... So is a local bartender-- a guy named Joe Barton."

Dean gazed at the photo before going back into the other room. "Hey, did your mom know Joe Barton?" Dean asked.

"Uh, I don't think so. Why?" Adam asks.

I hum softly, rub at my face and glance down. Something catches my eye. "We'll get back to that," I mutter as I move forward and kneel down, peering under the bed.

"What is it?" Adam asked as he moved out of my way.

"Watch out," I say as I brace a palm on the mattress, stand up and take the bed with me. I turn to gaze at the others. "You gonna stand there?" I ask irritably. Adam flinches into action and helps me move the bed-- not that I needed it. There's a grate under the bed. Sam, Dean, and I glance at each other skeptically, and play rock, paper, scissors. Dean makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he loses to the both of us playing rock.

"Every time." Dean complains.

"Stop playing scissors and you won't lose all the time." I mention as Sam tries to contain his amused face.

~*****~

What he found in the duct works of the house-- well, we knew we had to act fast before it got to Adam, too. We told Adam to call the cops before we left, and I couldn't help but notice that distressed look on his face when we took off. All my guns were laid out on the bed, most of them completely clean, save for the shot gun I held in my hands. The door rattled with a series of knocks. Sam opened the door, and Adam comes rushing in. "Who the hell are you?" Adam asks angrily.

"Adam, hey. Take it easy," Sam says calmly. I flip my comforter over my bed and stuff my gun inwards.

"No, don't tell me to take it easy, okay!" Adam snapped. "My house is a crime scene, my mom's probably dead, and you two-- well, you tell me to call the cops, but you got to bail before they show? So who are you really?" When we didn't answer, Adam pressed on. "Cops didn't know where to look for my mom, Dean, but she did." He gestured to me. "And I heard you talking earlier-- something about grave robberies. You're not mechanics. I just want to know what's going on. Please."

"We're hunters." Sam says.

"Sammy," Dean warns.

"He deserves to know, Dean." Sam retorts.

"What do you mean, hunters?" Adam asked.

I purse my lips and rub at my head. "So, I'm going to need you to listen to us, and listen good. Okay?" I say softly. Adam nods, and we go into detail.

Adam was silent until the very end. "So, basically, you're saying that every movie monster, every nightmare that I've ever had-- that's all real?"

"Godzilla's just a movie." Dean says.

"Bigfoot isn't real, either." I add.

Sam shakes his head at us. "We hunt them. So did Dad." Sam explains.

Adam inhales sharply and nods. "Okay."

"Okay? That's it?" Dean asks.

"What am I supposed to say?" Adam asked.

"That we're liars, that we're crazy." Dean retorted. "Nobody just says okay."

"You guys are my brothers," Adam mentions. "You're telling me the truth, right?" Sam nods. "Then I believe you." Adam sucked in another breath. "Now, what took my mom?" He asks.

"We're not sure on that yet," I state. "Something is in town, stealing bodies-- living and dead-- but we don't know what."

"There's a long list of freaks that fit the bill." Dean states.

"You think maybe she might still be alive?" Adam asks. When we don't answer, he hangs his head. "How can I help?" He asks after a moment.

"You can't." Dean says quickly.

"This thing killed my mom. If you're hunting it, I want in." Adam explains.

"No." Dean says firmly.

"Dean, look, maybe--" Sam started.

"No, Sam." I shake my head. "I understand, Adam, I do. And hell, I'd wanna do the same thing in your shoes. But we have to take a moment to understand just why John ripped those pages out of his journal-- why he never told us about Adam."

"Lottie, maybe--"

"John was protecting him, Sam." I snap.

"Dad's dead, Lottie."

"That doesn't matter!" Dean snaps as he gets up. "He didn't want Adam to have our lives, okay? And we're gonna respect his wishes."

"Do I get a say in this?" Adam piped up.

"No!" Dean says loudly.

"No." Sam says calmly.

Dean rolls his eyes and hands me my jacket. "Babysit the kid," He snaps at Sam before ushering me along.

"Where are you going?" Sam complained.

"We're going out!" Dean shouted and shut the door behind us.

~*****~

"Was it... was it wise to leave Sam with Adam?" I ask hesitantly as Dean and I approach the funeral director who agreed to show us crypts where bodies had went missing from.

"Why?"

"I mean... with how he's been acting? Maybe I should've stayed with Adam." I mutter.

Dean doesn't say anything, and the funeral director leads us to some crypts. "This tomb was built in nineteen twenty-six." He hums. "Four generations of the Millsap family were interred here."

"They don't build them like this anymore." Dean comments.

"Tell me, Agent Nugent, have you thought about where you might like to spend eternity?" The funeral director asked.

Dean sighed heavily. "All the damn time."

I offer a small smile. "So, three bodies went missing. Any idea who did it?" I ask politely.

"Hooligans-- sick, deranged hooligans." The funeral director hummed.

Dean leaned down and pressed his finger onto something. "This isn't blood. What is this?" He asks.

"No, it's embalming fluid," The funeral director stated. "Whoever committed this crime didn't just take the corpses. They opened them up."

I grimaced. "Thank you for your time." I say softly. "Let's get going." I say to Dean. He nods and follows after me.

~*****~

Dean gazed at the files we had absent mindedly. I often caught him staring off into space before shaking his head and go back to the files. I cleared my throat to catch his attention. "You know, you can talk to me. I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

"Baby, I know you're trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate it, but I'm not in the mood to be touchy feely right now." Dean retorts a little harsher than I assume he intended. He sucked in a breath, blew it out, and scratched at his head. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Dean. You're frustrated. You're a little hurt that John has another son, and... he seemed like he was father of the year with Adam after he found out about him." I mention as lightly as I could. "I just... listen, Dean, this kid-- he had no idea about you two, either. He doesn't know how John raised us. All he remembers is his cool ass dad."

"It's just--" Dean snaps as he grips the files tightly. "A friggin' baseball game?"

I chuckle and reach over to grasp his tense hand. "You don't want to admit it, but you're not upset about that, are you?"

Dean swallows. "This kid has a chance to live a normal life, Lottie... It's too late for us." He admits softly. "But for him? Going to college, leadin' the apple pie life? I want him to have it."

"I know." I hum affectionately and glance down at the files in his hands. "Hey, can I see those?" Dean holds it out for me. "Joe Barton was a cop." I mention as I read it over.

"He was?" Dean asks as he glances down at the paper.

"Yeah... back when the first round of corpses went up missing. He was one of the officers who found 'em." I explain. "The person who did it was never found, but there's a source here that says they'd taken care of what did it."

"You think he and Dad took care of it?" Dean asks.

I hum again. "Yeah, I'm starting to think so." I mention. "John probably ended up needing help-- I mean, he had to go into the emergency room. My guess? Whatever this is-- it's back. And it wants revenge."

~*****~

When we pull into the motel parking lot, we see Sam on the ground, struggling with something under Adam's truck. "Dean, help!" Adam shouts as he rounds the truck.

"Son of a--" I bite out as we leap out of the car. I grasp onto Sam's arms and haul him away from the truck as Dean aims his shotgun under the truck, and fires. "Give me the keys," I order. Sam hands them up to me and I hop into the truck and pull it away from its spot.

I lean out from the door and gaze at Dean as he touches the ooze at the edge of the manhole. "I winged it," Dean comments. "Did you see anything?"

"I didn't get a good look," Sam sighs.

Dean grunts and tosses the shotgun into the Impala. "What the hell is this thing?"

"Why-- who-- should we go after it?" Adam asks hesitantly.

"What-- no, no." I say quickly. "In that maze? That thing's long gone."

"All right, so we don't know what it is, but we do know who it's going after." Sam sighs. "Joe Barton, Adam's mom--"

"And Adam," Dean states. "It was under his truck, just waiting for him."

"It set a trap, and I walked right into it." Sam sighs again.

"Doesn't matter. You're right-- there's a pattern." Dean hums. "Lottie figured it out. Joe Barton was a cop. We're pretty sure he helped out Dad. So we've got him, Dad's girl... and his son."

"All the people Dad knew in town." Sam nods.

"At least we know why it's back." Dean hums.

"It wants revenge," Adam comments.

I sigh again and leap out of the truck. "C'mon, let's get back to Adam's house." I mention.

Dean nods and gestures Sam to get in as I get back in the truck. Adam slips into the seat beside me and sighs heavily.

~*****~

"Grab your stuff. We'll hit the road." Dean orders once we get inside.

Sam takes a seat and winces as he finally gets off of his feet. "We shouldn't leave." Sam comments as he puts his feet into one of the chairs.

"Yeah, let's stay here, where the kid's mom got ganked," Dean scoffed. "Good one."

"I'm serious." Sam retorted.

"No, Sam. We're gonna take the kid, we're gonna drop him off at Bobby's, and then you, me, and Lottie are gonna come back here and finish what Dad started." Dean says firmly.

"How?" Sam asked. "We got no leads, no witnesses. We do have what this thing wants."

"You want to use the kid as bait?" I ask incredulously. "That's why you wanna stay here?"

"Maybe this thing will come back." Sam shrugs. "We could train Adam-- get him ready."

"He could die, Sam," Dean says lowly.

"We could all die, Dean." Sam snaps back. "Even if we do kill this thing, there are tons of other freaks that want revenge-- On dad, on us. What if they find the kid instead and he's not ready?"

"I'll do it." My gaze snaps to the entrance to the kitchen, where Adam stands. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it." He says. "I want to do it."

The next few hours, Sam spent drilling Adam on everything, from how to shoot, to what monsters we come across. And it disgusted me. I paced most of the day away, listening to Sam explaining things to him, as if this was going to make him ready. I couldn't help but notice just how much Sam has changed-- even if it's for the worse.

"Sam." Dean said, breaking me out of my horrified staring. "Can we talk to you?" I trail off to the entry way with Dean. "What the hell was that?" He asks Sam.

"What?" Sam asks.

"Hunting is life. You can't have connections." Dean repeated. "Dad gave you that exact same speech, remember? It was just before you ditched us for Stanford. You hated Dad for saying that stuff, and now you're quoting him?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, well, turns out Dad was right."

"Since when?" Dean asked.

"Since always," Sam retorts. "Dean, when I look at Adam, you know what I see?"

"A normal kid, Sam," I snap.

"No. Meat." Sam responds. "Because to the demons and monsters out there, that's all he is. I hated Dad for a long time. I did. But now I think I understand. So we didn't have a dog and a white picket fence. So what? Dad did right by us. He taught us how to protect ourselves. Adam deserves the same."

"Will you listen to yourself?" I hiss.

"You think I'm wrong?"

"Sam, it is too late for us." I say adamantly. "This-- right here-- this is out life. This is who we are, okay? And it's fine. We can accept that. But with Adam, he's still got a chance, man. He could go to school. He could be a doctor!"

"What makes Adam so special?" Sam snapped.

"What, are you jealous of the kid?" Dean asked.

"Are you?" Sam shoots back. "Guys... All this... it's not real. The Dad Adam knew-- he wasn't real. The things out there in the shadows-- they are real. The world is coming to an end. That's real. Everything else is just part of the crap people tell themselves to get through the day."

"Dad didn't have a choice with us, okay?" Dean snapped. "But with Adam? He did. Adam doesn't have to be cursed."

"He's a Winchester." Sam snorted. "He's already cursed."

"No." I shake my head. "Whatever's hunting Adam, we're gonna find it."

"You already looked everywhere, Lottie." Sam scoffed.

"It hasn't stopped me before, and it won't now." I shot back. "Get your head out of your ass, Sam. This new outlook on life you have? It's crap." I shove past him and stomp outside.