We were almost back to Bobby's when Dean finally broke the silence. "Look, when we get back to Bobby's—"

"It's okay, Dean, I'm good. No white rabbits." Sam chuckled slightly. "I'm not seeing anything."

Dean nodded. "Okay. Baby steps." He gave Sam a small smile, which was returned, and then his attention shifted back to the road. "Oh no..."

Looking out the front window, I spotted smoke spiraling up from Bobby's.

Dean hit the gas, screeching down Bobby's driveway. His house was now just a smoldering shell of what it used to be, just charred and smoking. Panic surged through me, my heart racing, my breathing quickening. We had left Nate there, and Bobby was supposed to be home by now.

We scrambled out of the car, sprinting towards the remains of the front door, where the warmth still radiated from the wreckage.

"I'm goin' in to check for Bobby or Nate. I'll be right back," Dean declared, disappearing through the crumbling door frame.

My mind spiraled into thoughts of worst-case scenarios, and a surge of emotions overwhelmed me. "Nate was in there," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. I hunched over, hands on my knees, struggling to catch my breath.

Sam turned to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Hey, hey..." He gently made me stand upright.

"We left him here... we left him..." I choked out, starting to hyperventilate.

He cupped my face with his hands, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Look at me. You don't know he's in there, okay?"

"I was so awful to him..." I confessed, tears still flowing. "He just wanted to help me."

Sam pulled me into a firm, comforting hug. "Okay, alright, it's gonna be okay," he reassured, rubbing my back. Then, Dean reappeared, holding a blackened journal.

"Any sign of them?" Sam asked, still holding me.

Dean shook his head, held up the journal, and tossed it aside. I pulled away from Sam, wiping the tears from my eyes. Dean walked by and brushed his hand through my hair as he did. We followed behind him to the garage.

Dean shook his head and sighed. "That place was torched. Somebody knew what they were doing."

"You think they were back there?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know. Let's split up and look for them, okay?"

The three of us split apart, searching different sections of the junkyard.

"Nate! Bobby!" I shouted as I walked past the heaps of beat-up cars. I pulled out my phone and called Nate, but it kept ringing until it finally went to voicemail.

"Hey, this is Nate Harvelle. Leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you."

I let out a sigh, shaking my head. "Nate, damn it, please tell me you are not in that pile of ashes." I sniffled as tears rolled down my cheeks. "I need you to call me, please... call me and tell me you're alive." I hung up and continued searching. "Nate! Bobby!"

My phone started ringing, and I immediately pulled it out. Looking at the caller ID, I quickly answered it. "Nate!"

"Maddi, I had to bail. I took my car and left. Are you guys there now?" Nate asked.

Relief washed over me, and I wiped away my tears. "Yeah, yeah, we're looking for you and Bobby."

"Did you find him?" Nate asked.

"No," I said.

"Okay, I'm on my way back now. Meet me out front. I'll be there in a few minutes," he said before hanging up.

I made my way to the driveway, calling out for Bobby along the way. A few minutes later, Nate's baby blue 1955 Buick Riviera rolled in, and he jumped out.

I ran to him, grabbed his face, and planted a couple of quick kisses. Pulling him into a hug, I nestled my head against his chest. "I'm so, so, so sorry about everything. I've been such a jerk to you and— and—"

"Hey, it's okay. Stop." He looked at me with empathy. "You've got a lot going on."

Suddenly, a gunshot and a loud crash echoed in the distance. We pulled apart and bolted in that direction.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled.

We found Dean holding Sam, who was unconscious. They were sitting in front of a car that had been dropped on someone, a pool of black goo oozing from their body.

"Dean, what happened?!" I shouted, rushing to him. That's when I noticed how messed up his leg was. "Oh my god, your leg."

Dean winced in pain and nodded. "I think it's broken."

"I'm calling an ambulance," Nate said, then hurried off.

"What happened?" I asked Dean.

He shook his head. "One of those leviathan things. It was waiting for us. They want you, me, and Sam dead. They burned the house down because they thought we were inside."

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About ten minutes later, an ambulance arrived, sirens blaring and lights flashing across the night sky. The EMTs leaped out, swiftly strapping Sam and Dean onto stretchers, then rushed them into the back of the ambulance.

"Come on, we'll tail them," Nate said, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward his car. We hopped in, the engine roared to life, and we sped off, chasing the ambulance down the dimly-lit streets.

"You know where they're going?" I asked, my voice shaky.

Nate shrugged with his grip firm on the steering wheel. "My guess is Sioux Falls General."

My heart fluttered nervously. "What? No, no, no."

"What? What's wrong? It's the closest hospital," Nate reassured me.

"That's where Bobby was. There's Leviathan there," I blurted out.

"Shit," Nate muttered, pressing the gas pedal even harder

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