Eve stroked Dean's hair and kissed him softly. This was how it was supposed to be. Their plan was to be together forever—it wasn't supposed to be more complicated than that.

"What kind of person finds their soul mate in Hell?" Eve giggled.

Dean smiled a little. "The kind that couldn't find them before they died and were sent to Hell?"

Eve smiled and stoked his face as he looked lovingly at her. She was certain that she had missed out on love when she was dying, but she hadn't. She'd found Dean in a place she hadn't been looking for, and she felt pleased. Forget that he tortured her. Forget that after 5 years of torture he asked her to help him do the torture and she accepted. This was the now—this was when they're love was finally going to be pursued.

"Come to me." They told each other.

Eve opened her eyes, and looked around her room. She was quite unaware that in a motel room three states over, Dean was waking up from the exact same dream. The two looked around their motel rooms, and as Eve ran her fingers through her hair, Dean ran his hand down his face. Ever since they'd gotten out of Hell, they'd been dreaming about each other.

Dean would never forget the sounds that she made, or the pleas that she gave at first. Then it was almost as if she liked the idea of being tortured by him. She started telling him what it had been like before she died. She'd been a hunter, and a psychic—and she saw things in gray, and never in black and white. Even torturing souls, Dean found that entrancing and so soon he'd asked her to help him—he couldn't bear to torture her anymore.

"You look troubled." Sam said, sitting down on his own motel bed.

Dean looked at him. "I'm fine—just a weird dream."

Sam nodded. "All right, well…there's a hunt I think we should check out."

Dean got out of bed to look over Sam's research while Eve packed up what little things she had, and then stared at her duffle as she sat on her bed.

"You know what you have to do." Castiel said.

Eve shook her head without looking at him. "You never should have taken me out of there."

"You and Dean are important to the bigger picture." Castiel explained.

Eve shook her head again. "There's nothing important about me."

"Good things do happen, Eve." Castiel told her.

"No." Eve told him. "When I was a baby, some demon dripped blood into my mouth, I became a hunter, I realized I was a psychic, I was killed by another psychic, and then I fell in love in Hell—how is any of that good?"

"You saved people." Castiel tried.

Eve shrugged slowly. "Like any of that matters now."

"You have a chance to save the world, Eve." Castiel stressed. "A chance to set things right."

"Why did you save me? I'm a psychic. As far as I was concerned or aware, we were abominations—liable to go off at any moment and help the demons." Eve said bitterly, remembering before she died.

Castiel paused. "You're different—you never use your powers, and you were close to uncovering the secret of the seals. God needs you now."

Eve nodded slowly. "So you keep telling me."

"Where is your faith now, Eve? You used to take leaps of faith all the time. You stood up for what was right, and God is giving you a chance to go against what Azazel tried to turn you into. You would have grown-up devout and pure had he not tainted you—had your mother not condemned you to this fate." Castiel told her.

"I'll help you…but first I need to do something…for me." Eve said, looking at Castiel for the first time since he'd appeared, and he nodded slowly.


For some reason as Dean read through the information, the name "Evelyn" kept becoming the name "Eve" to his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about her—thinking about what he'd done to her. She was the only woman he'd even begun to think about like this. He had thought he'd known love before—but that was before Eve had showed up in Hell with him. And what kind of sick cosmic joke would make two people fall in love in Hell? Make the torturer fall for the torturee—and even more messed up still…why would she fall for him too?

"Dean?" Sam asked for the third time.

Dean looked down at him as the thoughts were suddenly pushed away. "What?"

"She's not here." Sam said.

Dean looked down at Sam in the grave with the empty coffin—the punched through empty coffin.

"It looks like she got up and walked out." Dean told Sam.

Sam nodded. "Apparently—she dug her way out."

"That's one feisty bitch." Dean said, and then looked at the papers again before he thought about it harder.

Evelyn Bishop had burst through her coffin and climbed her way out of her grave. The spot had since overgrown, but it was obvious that whatever was doing the killing was this woman—only she wasn't a ghost. She could be a zombie, or a revenant.

"So we have to figure out who would possibly hide her—it's like that zombie chick all over again." Dean said dismally.

Sam nodded. "I guess the next thing on the list is to figure out what she looks like and who her friends were—weed through them to find who in their minds would keep her hidden."

Dean nodded too and helped his brother put the dirt back into the grave, and then they drove to the place where Evelyn's parents lived. They walked up to the door, aware that they were pretending to be college students writing a paper about her, because she'd done some extraordinary things in this particular town. The story could stick.

"Hello, Ma'am." Sam said with a friendly smile, Dean mimicking it. "I'm Sam, and this is my buddy, Dean. We're students at the community college and we're writing about local heroes. We thought we'd see if you could tell us anything special about your daughter…Evelyn…unless the wounds are too fresh."

The boys were quite aware that Evelyn had only been dead for a year, but the woman just nodded and motioned for them to come inside. Dean looked around a little as Sam started in with the condolences and the questions, and then something caught Dean's eye—a picture. At first glimpse it was just a picture, but as he actually looked at it, he realized that he knew this girl. She was beautiful, and strong—even in the picture—and Dean suddenly felt like he couldn't be there. This was Eve's house. This was Eve's mother. How could he stand in this house when he'd tortured this woman's little girl in Hell?

"He told me that you two would come, Sam…you can ask other questions if you like." Mrs. Bishop said, pouring him some lemonade.

"Wait…what?" Sam asked, completely confused.

"Castiel." She told him. "He told me that you two would come looking for her…and to let you know that the killings weren't her fault."

Dean turned to her when he heard Castiel's name. "He honestly came to see you after what your deal cost your own daughter?"

"Dean?" Sam asked his brother.

Mrs. Bishop looked directly at Dean. "Castiel is not my enemy, Dean, and neither are you. You and Sam know exactly what it's like to have your mother make poor decisions—she gave Azazel permission to turn Sam into a psychic to save the man she loved, just as I gave Azazel permission to turn Evelyn into a psychic to save my family. Don't pretend like I'm the bad guy here—Lilith is the main threat."

"Are you a hunter?" Sam asked Mrs. Bishop calmly, questions running through his head.

Mrs. Bishop shook her head. "No…my husband is though. He and our youngest, Jeremy, are on a hunt right now. Castiel visited me this morning to tell me that he pulled Evelyn out of Hell because she has a job to do. Frankly, I'm quite pleased. That girl has been nothing but devoted to God and to hunting since she could fire a gun."

"If you hadn't sold her out, she wouldn't have had to go to Hell." Dean said angrily. "She wouldn't have had to go on the rack."

Sam gave Dean a questioning look and Mrs. Bishop looked at Dean hard.

"You wouldn't be so forgiving of her if you'd known that she killed her best friend." Mrs. Bishop told him.

"I did know that…and it wasn't entirely her fault. She freaked out and couldn't control her power—she shouldn't be faulted for that. She's not a murderer." Dean said firmly, and then he was out of the house just like that.

Sam left the house without so much as another word to Mrs. Bishop, and got into the passenger seat of the Impala, studying Dean hard. Dean was freaking out, and it was obvious that this all had to do with Hell. Sam hated to press the issue, but when their hunt had led them here, and Castiel was involved, what else was Sam supposed to do? Just sit back and watch it all happen?

"Dean…" Sam began, but trailed off when Dean shook his head.

"She and I were practically one down there…after I tortured her." Dean said out loud.


"I was a drama nerd." Eve said, biting her lip as Dean carved into her flesh, stripping a piece of her arm off.

"Drama Club, huh?" Dean asked her.

She nodded and fought off the urge to scream. "I can play any part that you want."

Dean smiled maliciously at her and then stepped closer to her, cutting into her arm again, her blood spilling out. She was done screaming for him—she hadn't let out bloodcurdling screams in months. Something about that made him respect her a little more. His eyes softened ever so slightly, but when she smiled fondly at him, he carved off another strip of her arm, and she grimaced, but didn't even squeak.

"I have a little brother—at least I used to." She said, continuing the conversation. "He was my everything before I had to come down here."

Dean moved the knife away from her as she said that. He'd been slowly starting to forget about what life had been like before Hell. Everyone had given up on Eve because no one could crack her. She'd given up on the screaming and begging—she did it a little for every new torturer who came around who did something to her a little differently, but Dean was finding that she was saying all the right things.

"Did you ever have a brother, Dean?" Eve asked.

Dean nodded slowly. "Yeah…I had a little brother once."

Eve shook the memory away as she drove the car back to her old home. Castiel had explained that he'd been to her mother, and that Sam and Dean thought that she was the reason all the people in her hometown were dying. Eve had decided not to talk to Castiel about Dean, but Castiel knew that the mention of him would drive them together. Together, Castiel was certain that they'd be able to help each other and get to Lilith before anymore seals were broken.

Eve parked the car outside her house and then looked at it as she got out and shut the car door. The house looked smaller than it had before, and though part of her was happy to see it…the other part wasn't at all. Things had happened in there that only Dean and her family knew about, and that thought unsettled her. She wasn't sure why Dean would think she was the one killing people—he knew everything about her and where she'd been. Like she had any time to go around maiming people.

"Evelyn!" Mrs. Bishop cried as Eve came in the front door.

All at once Eve felt arms being flung around her and instead of completely panicking, she just stood there. She felt suddenly like she was going to cry, and when her mother began to stroke her hair, a tear fell and Eve found herself hugging her mother back. Forget being angry about having to be a psychic—forget about how she was killed. It could all wait while she hugged her mother.

"I never thought I'd see you again." Mrs. Bishop told her daughter, pulling away a little and looking at her. "You look as beautiful as always."

Eve smiled a little. "You do too, Mom."

Mrs. Bishop tucked a stray strand of hair behind her daughter's ear and then motioned for her to sit. Eve slowly complied, and then shook her head when her mother offered her a glass of lemonade.

"I'm really only here on business." Eve told her mother kindly. "I—I was told that Dean Winchester was around here."

Mrs. Bishop nodded sadly. "Yes, he was…I had half the mind to call him on what he did to you."

"You have no idea what he did to me." Eve said strongly. "No matter what Castiel or any other stupid angel has told you…you have absolutely no idea what I have been through, Mother—so stop it."

Mrs. Bishop nodded slowly and then looked at her daughter hard. "You had better be giving this second shot at life a better go than your first shot."

Eve stood up. "You mean when you gave Azazel permission to turn me into a freak and then let my own father kill me?"

Mrs. Bishop sighed. "We didn't know then that you could ignore being a psychic. After your freak-out with Frannie we just couldn't let you be around to be a threat to your brother."

Eve nodded slowly. "Do you know where Dean went?"

"He's at the nearest motel with his brother, Sam." Mrs. Bishop explained.

Eve nodded and then went to the front door of the house and turned to face her mother as her mother started to follow her slowly, trying to figure out what to say.

"I'll be in touch." Eve promised, and then she was out the door and on the way to the motel, a loaded gun on the passenger seat of the car, ready to be used.