"So..." I start over the old rock music in the Impala.

Dean focuses on driving, though his speed is very questionable. He's in no rush to return back to the house—he's purposely going under the speed limit.

Pursing my lips, I go to switch the station. I receive a light slap of my hand from Dean. I try a few more times, each time I'm disciplined.

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cakehole," he says.

"I didn't say anything about the music choice," I protest.

"You didn't need to, clearly."

"Well, I want to try and talk with you, but you don't seem to want to." I cross my arms together, giving my best swing at a moody teenager look.

"What's there to talk about?"

I scoff. "Seriously? We're gonna act like Sam isn't my...my dad. That you're not my...uncle?"

I swear Dean winces, as though the thought pains him. What does that say about me?

I try again: "Did Sam...talk to you about it, after...?"

He gives a shrug, halfheartedly. "Bits. He was still pretty shocked."

"He wasn't the only one."

"Look, in all our years of hunting...we get a lot of shocks to our system. A lot of surprises. Hell, I had a...daughter once."

Now that I can believe. I hold that biting comment inside. "Where is she?"

"...Dead."

"What was her name?"

"Emma. She wasn't human. I didn't realize it then, but, I slept with an Amazon woman named Lydia. Emma's growth-rate was...inhuman to say the least. She tried to kill me. If Sam hadn't..."

I swallow. "Do you think of her when you see me?"

He shakes his head. "No. You're not out to kill us."

But one day they might be out to kill me. I shake Finn's doubt from my mind. "I'm sorry about her, Dean."

"The concept of having a kid seemed mythical, oddly enough. Seeing her...knowing that she was blood...I know she wasn't alive long, but, I helped make her, you know? It's a piece of life that hunters don't usually get. Our job seems to only have one out...one messy, bloody out."

"Have you ever tried to leave?"

"Once. So has Sam. As you can see, we're clearly home-free."

The sarcasm is definitely not lost on me. "Does my existence change that for either of you?"

"Hard to say about Sam. For me, it's just one more person that's been roped in because of us." He sighs. "It's why friends are hard to come by. They tend to end up with a bad fate, and usually we see the aftermath. That's why we don't want this for you, Wills. We want you out, and to stay out. We want you back in school. We want you back with your mom. It's..."

"It's complicated," I finish. "I should've seen that for what it is."

"How about we try to put that away for now, yeah?"

"I'll try if you will."

* * *

Getting time alone with Dean opens my eyes to a few things. For one, he likes stuff that's really bad for you. Well, it's the best kind of food, so I can agree there. He despises healthier foods. Oh, and he loves pie. We couldn't return to the house without one.

We don't hear anything from Cas, or from Sam, so that must mean we're still in the clear of any threat. Once we're en route with food, Dean takes his slow time again driving back to the house.

"If you keep at this rate, there won't be any food to bring them!" I exclaim. "Seriously, I'm hungry now."

"You can hold off—isn't that why we bought snacks?"

"I was thinking for the ride back to the bunker, not right this second." I rustle around until I find a bag of chips.

"Tell me something, Wills. Do I need to worry about your mom attacking Sam?"

"Like, physically?" I say between crunches. "No. If anything, she'll tear him a new one. She's always had a way with words in any kind of situation. Whether or not you intentionally got me into this, I'm her baby girl. In her eyes, you put me into danger."

"Well, Sam has a way with words too. If anyone can make her fully understand the scope of all this, it would be him. It's usually why he asks questions first, I do all the action."

We make small chitchat, and that seems to work for the both of us. We don't go into any deep topics.

I'm relieved to see the house is still in one piece when we get back. That's definitely promising. Now if the inside isn't destroyed, we're golden.

"Well, the house isn't burnt down, so that's a plus," is my greeting as Dean and I enter with food. Mom and Sam are in the kitchen, stopping all talk once we get inside. "So, no bad blood?"

"Not quite," says Mom. "When were you going to tell me you're not staying, Willa?"

Damn. I should've been the one to tell her. But maybe Sam did me a favor. Jury's still out. I set the bags on the kitchen table. "If he's explained it all to you, then you know why I can't stay, Mom."

"This is hardly fair for you."

"Laura, I told you, we don't want this for her," says Sam cautiously. "But until this is smoothed over for good, here isn't safe."

"Sure it is! We—we can do wardings, or—or whatever you were telling me about. We can get her that tattoo that you showed me!" Mom's eyes are big, desperate. "She comes home, and now you want to take her away from me again."

"Laura—"

"If she can't stay, then I'm coming with you."

"Mom, no," I insist. "Way bad idea. You have no idea what you're saying."

"As your mother, I've got to protect you, Willa. I can't do that if you're not with me."

"I'll just...side-step on out of here," says Dean, making a rather hasty retreat to any other part of the house other than the kitchen.

"Damn you," I hiss under my breath. I can't leave a cloud of dust in my wake, because I know there's no way I'm wiggling out of this.

"I never thought I'd have to worry about custody with you," Mom groans to Sam.

"This isn't a forever thing, Laura," Sam assures her. "This is temporary."

"Sure, until it becomes permanent." Her eyes narrow. "Who's to say more things don't come after you, and you feel the urge to keep her locked away somewhere forever? That's not a life, Sam."

"It's not," he agrees gently.

"Mom," I cut in softly. "You don't understand what's going on here."

"Sam—" she tries.

"Sure, Sam's explained it to you as best as he can without sending you into a straitjacket." I lean forward on the table. "But you're not in this. You've been on the outs, worried about me. You don't understand how it is to know there's a target on your back, one that you never wanted. Talking to demons isn't going to shake them. If I stayed here, it'd only put you at risk. If I continued my life as it was, the amount of people...Demons don't care who gets in their way, as long as they have their eyes on the prize. As much as I want to be back home, I...I can't be. Not yet.

"I can't tell you what's going to happen, Mom. I wish I could. If you don't trust Sam, or Dean, then...trust me. Trust me when I say that I know this is best for us right now. It's freaky as all get-out, sure. I don't like it, but..." I exhale.

Mom remains silent, her eyes brimming with tears. I keep my resolve strong in the event the tears come falling down.

"There's, uh," I push the grocery bags towards the two, "comfort food if you'd rather eat your feelings away. Food makes everything better, right?"

My awkward comment and Mom's abrupt departure from the kitchen is a combo, to be sure. I sigh heavily. Should I really have come back? Dean was right; this is only doing more harm to her. To see me, to know that I'm leaving again...

I'm selfish for wanting to see her. I don't know why I didn't consider her feelings. Why didn't I think how this would be for her? I guess I had a sunshine-and-rainbows picture of our reunion. I should know better that life doesn't always give us that.

"I should go check on her," Sam offers.

I stop him. "No, let her have her space. When things get to be too much, she just needs to walk away and process it all on her own. She'll come back when she's ready."

"She's not planning a way to keep you here, is she?"

I shake my head. "No. Like I said, give her time to work through it all. She may not agree with it, or like it, but she will understand."