I yawned, opening my eyes.  I sat up, squinting at the road ahead.

"Where are we?"

"Illinois.  You just missed St. Louis," said Dean.  I nodded, leaning my head back and staring at the car ceiling.  Light streamed in through the windows.  Sam's head rested against the glass; he was sleeping.

It was quiet for a moment.  Dean concentrated on the road, and I concentrated on my thoughts.

"So, this angel...Hannah?" Dean said.  "Is she--"

"I don't know where to look.  She most likely got away, though," I replied.  Dean gave a small nod.

In a few more silent moments, I came up with an idea.  Maybe I could communicate with her through the angel radio.

Hannah?  Hannah, are you there? I tried with my mind.  Did I have to speak aloud, or only think?  Cas's instruction had been vague in that area.

For a while, the broadcast was silent.

N-Nicole? I heard a reply.

Hannah!  Are you okay?

The reply came quickly.  Patrick escaped.  I barely made it out myself, but I'm fine.  I should probably stay away for some time, to make sure he doesn't use me against you again.

Okay, I said.  Just be safe.

Will do.

Silence returned.  Angel radio?  That's pretty cool.

Though, I heard a static-like noise in the background.  Probably because I wasn't really supposed to hear them, since they were angels of the Lord, and I was not.

"Hannah's okay," I told Dean.

"Wha-How do you know?" he asked.

I tapped my forehead, and he glanced at me through the rearview mirror.  "Angel radio."

"Oh, right," he said.  "Well, that's good."

Sam's head rose up, and he blinked several times with a yawn.

"Where are we?" he asked.  Dean told him the same thing that he'd told me.  I smirked, for some reason satisfied at the fact that I'd beat Sam to it.  Why?  I didn't know.

Dean reached for the radio, turning up the volume just as a new song was beginning to play.  I recognized the tune instantly, and the corners of my mouth turned upward into a grin.

Dean shot an enthusiastic look at Sam, then began to sing.

She was a fast machine she kept her motor clean
She was the best damn woman that I ever seen
She had the sightless eyes telling me no lies
Knocking me out with those American thighs

Before I knew it, I had joined him.  My fear of singing in front of people just flew out the window, temporarily, despite the fact that the windows were closed.

Taking more than her share
Had me fighting for air
She told me to come but I was already there
Cause the walls start shaking
The earth was quaking
My mind was aching
And we were making it

Sam smirked, gave a small laugh, then joined as well, the loudest one in our choir.

And you shook me all night long
Yeah you shook me all night long

As we sang, I felt like I'd known them all my life.  They were a part of me, and I would soon discover how much.

-

By the time we reached Georgia, I was growing restless.  Cas called again, insistent on helping.  His information did help, because he'd found an exact location of where Cain was last spotted.

"It's a town called Commerce."

"Isn't that the place with the dragway?" Dean asked.

"What's a dragway?" Cas asked.

"Drag racing?  You know, fast cars, short track, badass."

There was silence on Cas's end.

"You know what?  Never mind," said Dean.

Eventually, after a few more words, Sam hung up the phone, and Dean continued to drive.

"That is the place with the dragway," I spoke up.  "I've been to the Southern Nationals before."

Dean slammed the palm of his hand against the steering wheel.  "Badass!"

-

We eventually reached Commerce, and Dean made sure to pass the dragway as he journeyed through town.

Dean circled the town in a loop, looking for anything out of the ordinary.  And that's when he saw the fair.

It was small, with only a few rides.  The once-empty field was a walking distance from a nearby Ingles, and small shops and restaurants like Dairy Queen.

"Sam--"

"No," Sam said.

"Come on, when was the last time we've been to one of those? Even if it's small..."

"We are on a job."

"Yeah, well where's Cain?  We haven't exactly found him yet."

"That's why we do research."

"Research.  What research?  What are we looking for, omens?  Sounds lame."

Sam rolled his eyes, staring at the field before him.  "Dude, it's not even open."

"Then we find somewhere to stay and come back later."

"Sounds fun," I tossed in.  Sam looked at me, confused, as if he was the only one who understood the importance of the job.

"HA!"  Dean threw up his hands.  "Majority rules."

-

As night was falling, Dean practically skipped through the entrance.  As I watched him, I knew this was more than just entertainment.  It was freedom.  After all he'd gone through, both of them...they needed it.

After he paid for three unlimited wristbands, he headed over to the cotton candy machine.

"Look, Sammy.  I haven't had any of this since that week we were in California.  You know, when Dad was on that werewolf case?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember," Sam replied.  "And then that kid spilled a slushie all over your pants."

"That little bastard.  He didn't even say sorry."  Dean accepted some cotton candy from the man operating the machine.

"You never could get that stain out, could you?  It looked kinda like you peed yourself."

"Shut up."

Dean took a bite of the cotton candy, and I watched it melt in his mouth.  "This is amazing."

I accepted two more cotton candies and handed one to Sam.  He nodded in thanks.

"These people down South are crazy.  What is it with the flags and trucks?" Dean said, looking around.

"They're cool," I said, watching a red pickup drive by with a giant rebel flag waving.

"Whatever," Dean said. "Looks like these people don't realize that the Civil War ended a century and a half ago, and they lost."

I shrugged, deciding that arguing with him, and effectively getting the point across, was useless.  We walked through a path, examining what the fair had to offer.

"Are you a cowboy?" A man shouted in our direction.  He tipped his cowboy hat towards us with a grin.  Dean frowned, his brow furrowing, his eyes narrowing, and his chin tipping upward.  "Join our rodeo!"

The man threw a hand out, motioning to the mechanized bull awaiting a rider.

A smile rose on Dean's face.

"Hold this, Sammy.  I'll be right back," Dean said, taking another bite of his cotton candy and placing it into Sam's open hand.

Dean held up his wristband and headed towards the ride.  I recalled in my mind how much he enjoyed Western movies and things of that matter.

Dean climbed on, giving us a thumbs-up and and toothy smile.

The man in the cowboy hat pressed a few buttons on a control panel, and the bull began to move.  Dean was unimpressed.

The bull picked up speed.  He gripped a bit harder, still unimpressed.

The man controlling the ride, which I soon discovered was named Jim (I finally found a nametag on his shirt), slammed his fist on a big red button.  Suddenly, the bull began to jerk frantically and spin ferociously.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted.  Sam and I laughed.  Dean still managed to hold on.

Jim turned a switch, and the bull doubled in speed.  Dean was slung against the inflatable wall surrounding the bull, his feet sticking straight up into the air.

Sam and I continued to laugh.  Dean pulled himself to his feet and headed back in our direction, saying nothing.  Jim grinned at us, motioning to the bull as an offer for one of us to try.

I shook my head.

Sam started to say something.

"Shut your face," Dean interrupted, raising his finger.

We headed to the next ride.  It was titled the "Tornado".

"I love these things!" I said.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, and then we all climbed on.  Each section had four seats forming a circle, and we filled three of them.  A few other people climbed into other sections, but, luckily, no one else sat in our empty seat.  That wouldn't have been as fun.

The ride began move.  Each hanging section revolved around the middle of ride, which was at a slight tilt to cause the riders to move up and down as they revolved around it.  It was almost like an elevated carousel.  I grabbed the wheel that stood between us and began to turn it, which spun our individual section.  Sam and Dean realized what I was doing, and they pulled on the wheel as well, causing us to go around faster and faster.

Smiles broke out on their faces.

Me?  I had been smiling since we'd walked into the fair.

Once we'd gotten off, we made sure to try every other ride in the fair, riding a few twice.  As I said before, there weren't that many rides, but we didn't care.  We still had a blast.

After playing around for a couple of hours, we headed back to the Impala, which was illuminated by a single street lamp.  Right before climbing into the backseat, I stopped, staring down at the necklace I was still wearing.

"Dean?" I said.

He turned to face me, holding the door open before he climbed inside.  "Hm?"

I pulled the amulet over my head and held it out to him.  He stared at it for a few moments, silent.  Sam stopped too, watching us with curiosity.

"Keep it," said Dean.  "It looks good on you." He gave me a small, close-lipped smile.

I nodded, putting it back on.  "Thanks," was all I could say.  At that point, we all got into the car, and Dean drove us back to our motel room.

-

Our goal, to find Cain?  It didn't go the way we had planned it.  We never had the opportunity to ask around.  We never had the opportunity to conduct research, since we were all too tired to do anything but sleep once we'd returned to the motel.  We never found Cain.

He found us.

We had all gotten dressed (I changed in the bathroom while Sam and Dean changed in the room itself.) and were heading out the door when we saw him.  He was just standing there, waiting for us.  My fingers curled into my palms, creating tight fists.

"Funny," Dean said, trying to mask his surprise.  "We were just looking for you."

"Quite interesting," replied Cain.  "But I thought I'd just drop by instead.  You know, I was going wherever I found myself being drawn to, traveling the country and all.  And then, I realized you were in town, tracking me."  He laughed.  "So, I decided to retrieve something that belongs to me."

"The First Blade," Sam said with realization.

"You are foolish enough to keep it with you, are you not?" he said, eyeing Dean.  "I can sense its..."--he closed his eyes--"presence."  My eyes widened.  Hadn't Crowley hidden it?  What had I missed?

"Sorry, bud," Dean said.  "Your sensor is a little off balance.  You see, I don't have it.  I don't know where it is."

"Nice try," Cain said.  I could see in his eyes--I originally saw his real, ugly, demonic face, but I also knew a way to temporary turn off the ability to see it, so I could see the faces of their human bodies, which I preferred--that the Mark he also possessed had once again taken over, and he could no longer resist the urge to kill.  And using his original weapon would give him the feeling of more power and strength.  They were two pieces in a puzzle, and he could feel his other half nearby.

Cain stepped forward through the doorway, pushing his way through all of us.  He didn't seem to notice me, or didn't care.  What I knew for sure was that he didn't recognize me as an angel, or a Turned Angel, or whatever.

I blinked.  He just walked right in.  But did Dean really find a way to get the First Blade from Crowley?  Bigger problems were beginning to arise.

When Sam and Dean chased after him, a huge force was thrown against us.  We found ourselves pinned against the walls.  I was already beside a wall, so I was only thrown back a few inches, but I still slammed against it, and move I did not.

I had to focus on Cain.  He was right there in front of me.  The first trial was to kill him.  Now all I had to do was take the shot.  I just had to wait for the perfect moment.  If he was able to fight back somehow, if I wasn't quite strong enough, I had to have a way to use other things against him.  That is, if I could only break free of his binding.

"Dean, did you...?" Sam began, beginning to have doubts.

Dean shot Sam a look of denial, though the guilt shone through like someone who decided to wear pink to a funeral.  Sam returned a look of disapproval.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed in anger.

Cain wandered through the motel room, searching under our beds and in the closet.  He ran into the bathroom.

"Where the hell is it?"

"Maybe you should check the steam room," said Dean through gritted teeth.  "Or our secret laboratory."

Cain reentered the room we were in.

My finger twitched.  Any door, window, or other contraption that let outside light in, closed and locked.  It was completely dark, except for a single candle that now flickered on a table not far from where I was standing, allowing us all to dimly see each other.  Cain stopped; his attention was quickly on me.  I had been made.

"Is that an...angel?" Cain asked with surprise.  "I thought you two had Castiel to do all of your dirty work.  But I can see why you have her.  She's...different.  Though, I can't exactly tell why."

"None of your business," I said.

Cain began walking toward me with curiosity.  Suddenly, he stopped moving, and his eyes widened as he looked up at the ceiling.

Sprayed in glow-in-the-dark paint was a pentagram, now shining brightly in the dark room.

"Hmph," he said.  "You know this won't hold me long.  I assume that this whole thing was to set me up?  Though, I'm not quite sure how you pulled it off.  Unless the Blade is, in fact, still here."

"It's not," I said.  "I fooled you.  Our room emits a false power that replicates the sense you have when your precious Blade is nearby.  And only you can feel it.  Dean is clean."

"You are not a normal angel," he said.  "What are you doing, coming to the Dark Side?  Are you casting spells?  Making deals for doses of more power?"

"The only other powers I possess are my own," I said.  I reached out my hand, pulling from his supernatural grasp on me with ease.  In fact, he never had me in the first place.  It was all an act.

I saw his eyebrows rise in the candlelight.  My hand once again gripped into a fist, and Cain's hands flew up to his throat as his mouth fell open.  He held his hands around his neck as if he was being hanged without the handcuffs.  His feet lifted off of the ground as I held up my other hand, with my palm flat and vertical.

His grip on Sam and Dean began to falter.  They shifted positions, but they were still not free.

"You think you can kill me?" Cain struggled to say.  "The only thing that can kill me is the First Blade!"

I tightened my fist.  Cain's eyes turned black.

"I don't know, man," Dean said.  "She sure does have a nice grip on you."  His eyes narrowed.

Cain's jaw clenched.  He squeezed his eyes shut, and the two beds split in half.  (Dean had insisted on being the one that slept on the air mattress.)  A whirlwind picked up in the room.  The doors and windows clanged as he tried to open them and seemingly erase the pentagram.  I fought him, holding them closed.

"You are powerful, Nicole.  Not just angelic power, but you possess a power that you created.  And that is the biggest power of them all."

God's words echoed in my ears, reminding me of why I was there.

I threw the whirlwind inside the pentagram.  Cain let out a shout.  The force of the whirlwind was attempting to spin him in circles, but I held him still, causing him pure agony.  His clothes, however, did not stay still. They were ripped from his body, leaving him naked.

Oh, gross.  I switched back on my ability to see his demon self, which was much easier on the eyes than what I had just revealed.

"Do it," he said.

I clapped my hands together, and he fell to the floor; everything was still.  The demon flashed as it died, and then it was vaporized.  Blood trickled from his nose.

Sam and Dean gasped as they stumbled forward, no longer pinned to the wall.

"Fidelitate erga Deum, in hoc iudicio probo quidem," I read from the note that I kept in my pocket.  The Latin now rolled off my tongue with ease.  A breeze tickled my cheeks, and then the stillness returned.