The first thing Camber perceived was that she was warm. She felt relaxed and comfortable, nestled in a bundle of blankets, a bed beneath her. A faint humming noise came from somewhere nearby, and she slowly opened her eyes to see Dean fumbling with a few take out containers at the counter of the hotel room's little kitchenette. He smiled when he saw that she was awake, and brought her a container of noodles and a bottle of water. "How do you feel?"

Camber made to stand up, and the painful twinge in her left arm reminded her of the events of the previous night. She hissed and shut her eyes. "Ow. That creepy fucker shot me."

Dean's grin widened as he placed the food on the night stand. "You were right; it is only a flesh wound. Should be all healed up in a week or three, you might not even get a scar out of it."

Camber pouted. "Scars are the best part of getting hurt. A story, laid out right there on your skin. Do I at least get a kiss for my trouble?"

Dean chuckled, but planted a soft kiss on her forehead. His smile faded. "Sam and I have another case, in Virginia. People are dying, and we're the closest. It looks like a-" Camber raised a finger to his lips. "I understand, you don't have to explain. I also gather that you two won't be back around for awhile, right?"

Dean stared at the floor, and his expression hardened. "Hunters never hit the same town twice." Camber nodded. It did make sense. Dean cleared his throat and looked her in the eye, all traces of humor gone.

"You deserve better than I could ever give you. There's a storm brewing, a big one, and we're right in the middle of it. You need to protect yourself. And the best way to do that is for us to get gone."

Camber nodded again, throat tight. She had known it would come to this, and although it wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling, she knew he was right.

While the boys were packing up their things, Camber placed a basket on the back seat of the Impala. Virginia was a long drive, and they could get there faster if they didn't have to stop for food as often. Her aunt was always overly "helpful", hence the clichéd wicker picnic basket of sandwiches, fruit and bottles of water. She turned to see Dean striding towards her with their duffle bags in hand. Sam walked to the hotel office to return their key at a rather leisurely-looking pace. Dean chucked the bags into the open trunk and shut it firmly. He turned to face Camber, a sad smile on his face.

"So I guess this is goodbye, huh?" Camber was aiming for nonchalant, but the crack in her voice gave her away. Dean brushed her long hair behind her ear and cupped the side of her face. "Stay safe. Things are going to get crazy, but I'm sure this weird little town will make it out okay." His hand fell to rest at his side.

Camber chuckled. "Of course it will. Someone is bound to see danger before it arrives, and maybe we'll believe them next time." She frowned a little. "You be careful too. If it's going to be as bad as you say, then I'm more worried about you than me."

Sam suddenly appeared at their side. "All set? Camber it was great to meet you, you were a big help." She hugged him, then Dean, and planted a kiss on Dean's cheek. "You boys stay safe."

Dean gave her a long, searching look before he turned away and got into the Impala. Sam looked at him from the corner of his eye as they drove away, Camber shrinking in the rear view mirror until they went up and over a hill, and Lily Dale faded in the wake of yet another case. The shrill sound of a phone ringing broke the somewhat-tense silence. Sam answered it, and after a short conversation, hung up. "Someone else managed to get there first, so we're off the hook." Dean's eyes flashed reflexively to the rear view mirror, but he accelerated in an attempt to ward off the temptation of turning around.

"You know, it's about that time of year." Sam said, a smile growing on his face.

"Hm?" Dean grumbled, his focus on the road.

"Our annual pilgrimage." Sam was beaming now, trying to get excited.

Dean smirked, shaking off the gloom, because there was no point in keeping it around.

"Alright Sammy, we'll go to Vegas."