Some Secrets Should Stay Secrets (Supernatural)

Facing Self Conflicts

._.__.~Castiel~.__._.

I love you. That's all I needed to say. I. Love. You.

This shouldn't have been so difficult, but the thought of it made my knees weak, my palms clammy, and my head spin. She made me feel things I never even dreamt of. Never even thought of.

I never would have guess I would be brought down by three simple words.

I kept thinking about this until I heard a loud thud from upstairs. I rushed up the stairs, toward the source of the sound, until I made it to a small bedroom. I opened the door and saw Felicity sitting against the wall, her saltshaker in her hand.

"Are you okay? I heard something, and-"

"I'm fine," She cut me off. "Just a little ghostly confrontation."

I sighed with relief. I put Echo down and helped Felicity up. I kissed her, and she kissed me back.

"I can't help but constantly worry about you, Felicity."

She shrugged. "I worry about you too, sometimes."

We smiled and kissed once more. "What did the ghost look like?"

"Female; five foot six; curly, dark brown hair; hazel eyes; pale skin; ragged clothes, covered in patches; slit throat, coated in dried blood; small scar located on her right temple; and nails that were bent backward, like she'd been scratching at something."

"I always forget how hyper observant you are." I chuckled.

She smiled. "Well, get used to it. Now, we're gonna need to research. See if any women of that description have died, which they obviously have. Let's get back to the motel."

We flew back to the motel to do research. While I did research on Felicity's laptop, she took Echo outside. She tried to explain to me why she needed to go outside, but it just confused me.

Most of the time I spent doing research, I was focusing on those three words. It should have been simple. So simple.

I love you.

Why was it so difficult?

I love you.

I love you.

I. Love. You.

Felicity came back inside, which shook me from my thoughts. I continued to conduct research.

"How's it going?" She asked me.

"I believe I have found our ghost."

She joined me and looked at the laptop screen. "You have?"

"Janice Bishop. She lived at the same house as the Phillips'. She had an abusive husband, who gave her a scar on her temple, just like how you described it. Turns out, her husband, Derek, locked her in the basement with no food or water on a regular basis. That would explain the nails. She relentlessly tried to get out by scratching the door. Eventually, Derek slit her throat."

"Okay, so her husband was a dick, and when he killed her, she sought out blood. Any connections between the victims? Our dearly departed husband and wife?"

"They didn't exactly have a stable relationship. They would often get into arguments, and sometimes Dan would end up... hitting her. Perhaps Janice saw that as a reason to kill him."

"What about Wendy? She would be innocent, right? Why off her?"

"After much research, I discovered that Wendy and Dan had a child together. Benedict. And from what I understand, 'Ben' was abused throughout his childhood."