Killer

Coexistence.

Chadron, Nebraska
12:07 am

It wasn't more than a few minutes before we arrived back at the motel.  The car stopped and Sam came around to help Dean out of the car.  He groaned while sitting up.  I felt horrible.  I kept telling myself that it wasn't me.  I could feel the remnants of that anger inside me.  I didn't even hesitate.  Sam and Dean were already inside by the time I got out of the car.  I sat on the two steps that led to the walkway that wrapped around the motel. My head buried into my hands.  I took a deep breath as my hands ran through my hair with frustration.  It was nearly an hour before Sam came outside.  He sat down next to me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I just feel like I could have done something.  At least tried to stop it," I sighed.

"You know that ghost was his wife.  She killed herself about ten years ago when she found out he was cheating on her.  I just didn't think he'd go that far."

"What do you mean?"

"He was controlling her.  Using her to basically keep the place haunted.  And like you know.  The longer they hang around, especially against their wishes, the angrier they get."

"That explains a lot."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"When he told me, er her, to kill you I just felt this rush of anger.  There was so much hatred for him.  She didn't want to.  I could feel that much, but-"

"Hey, you didn't do bad for your first hunt.  Like you said this isn't your kinda thing."

"Yeah, guess you're right."

"But, um, I'll take that fifty dollars whenever you're ready," he laughed.

My head snapped in his direction.  He was trying to contain his laughter.  My hand dug into my bag and I pulled out a crisp fifty dollar bill.  I shoved it at him.

"Damn, my pride.  I  never stood a chance to beat you two, did I?" I groaned.

"Hey, you pulled me into the bet. That's your fault," he said happily taking the money from me.

"How's Dean?"

"He's fine. You barely scratched him."

"Oh, just a scratch?" I asked holding up my bloody hands.

"He's fine.  He'll just give you crap for awhile.  Probably about the salt."

"Ugh, what was I thinking? I just launched the damn thing at him."

"It was really funny.  Did you see his face?"

"Yeah," the laughter quickly slipped from my mouth.  Sam was mimicking his brother's face. He looked so goofy, "that's perfect!  God he looked like such an idiot."

"Who looked like an idiot?" Dean's voice boomed from behind us, "you aren't really making fun of the guy you a-salt-ed today."

"Dean," Sam groaned.

"Can I stab him again?" I asked chuckling at his good use of a pun.

"Come on, that was good," Dean beamed proud of his joke.

"With that.  I'm out," Sam said while getting up, "thanks for the cash."

Dean took the spot next to me.  His hand extended.  I placed my hand in his.  He looked at the gesture before looking at my face.

"Although I enjoy holding your hand.  I think you owe me something," he smirked.

"Fine."