"You're a nurse, right? I heard you say you're a nurse."

Dean approached the woman probably more aggressively than he needed to be, but the situation called for it. His brother was in pain, and needed help, like, NOW. He didn't have time to flirt and allow it to simmer until it boiled. Not this time.

She turned towards him, away from the sea-front balcony, her eyes wide at the intrusion. She took a second to tear herself away from the chilly autumn air to respond. This is never good. Not when conversations start this way. I thought I was on vacation. She could see the underlying panic in his mossy eyes, and the brow furrowed with worry. A quiet, dark-haired guy with wide-set eyes stood behind him. We wore a trench coat and his tie was a bit askew. He was silent, but the same worry was etched across his face, as well.

"Um, yeah? What can I do for-?"

Before she could protest, she was escorted through the motel room door next to hers. Well, at least over the threshold. Then the Silent Man stopped her, anchoring himself against the door jams in an awkward almost-embrace, and limiting her from moving forward into the room. She could hear muffled groaning from what seemed like the back bedroom. The man who spoke to her first went into it and shut the door.

"You need to prepare yourself," the Silent Man said. "You are going to see things here that are against the natural order. And you will never share a word of it."

The First Guy exited the back bedroom, hurriedly walked over to the Silent Man and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. "Easy, Cas. Let her in the door." He looked her up and down intensely, panic just beneath the surface. "We need her. Don't scare her away."

Okay, well, the Silent Guy's name was Cas…Cas?

She wasn't a stupid woman. She's spent many a night watching Dateline and 20/20 about women who were alone with men in off-season, musty motel rooms, and who suffered fates worse than she'd seen in her 15 years in the ER combined and weren't found until the spring.

Still, though, her curiosity drew her in. Call it a personality flaw. Yeah, it got her into trouble on occasion but hey-it lead to a pretty exciting existence for a 30-something with no husband or kids…

Before steering her to the bedroom, Dean made eye contact with Cas. She'd seen that look before. Desperation on the brink of all-out fear, falling apart inside when you're the one who might have to make those decisions, standing beside a bed as if Will itself could make someone better…

He grabbed her by the elbow and led her to the door and quietly pushed it open. A man—a very large, tall man—laid on the bed on his right side. His arm was braced against his pillow and the other was filled with sheets. His breathing was fast and his hair was drenched with sweat. His eyes were squeezed closed, as well, as if he were concentrating hard on something. Like pain. You can fake a lot of things—she knew this—but this guy wasn't faking. Something was wrong, and he was exhausted by it. She shot the First Guy an inquisitive look and moved forward.

"Hi, honey," she greeted, kneeling beside him. She brushed his shaggy bangs off his forehead and rubbed his hair.

Her voice was the gentlest one he'd heard since all this started about 18 hours ago. There was no panic, no stress, no demands, just…peace…he opened his eyes and they immediately started to tear.

"What's going on, can you tell me? What's your name?"

"Sam."

The tremble in his voice unsteadied her. What was he hiding under that blanket? What did Cas mean when he said something about 'against natural order'? Still, she kept her demeanor of calm. It was never good to panic when people are looking to you for help or comfort. "What's wrong, Sam?" Pace yourself, Marla…

He drew in a deep breath and apprehensively glanced at the First Guy, before pulling back the bedspread with his free arm. "I wasn't like this yesterday."