“We can’t.” Dean said with a shake of his head.

“Come on, Dean, I agree with Y/N. It’s cruel letting her pine after him like this. I don’t like keeping her in the dark.” Sam sided with you.

“It's for her own good. Look, I know you feel guilty, alright? But let's just stick to the plan. Let's get her out of here. Then we'll tell her.” Dean said, looking at the two of you.

“Tell me what? What aren’t you guys telling me? It’s about David, isn’t it? You know what happened to him.” Molly said, hearing what you said. Now she was pissed and an angry spirit was never good.

“Molly…” Sam started.

“Sam, don’t.” Dean interrupted. You sighed and bit your lip, wondering what you should do.

“Don't what? Don't tell me because I'll mess up your hunt? You don't care about me or my husband.” Molly said, getting angry.

“That’s not true, Molly.” You said, looking at her.

“Really? Then whatever it is, tell me, please.” She begged with her eyes. You didn’t know what to do and you looked at the brothers, finally having a silent conversation with them through yours eyes. You never got the chance to tell her anything because you heard a radio, out of nowhere, turn on. It was static at first but then House of The Rising started playing and Molly became scared. Shit.

“He’s coming.” Molly said.

“Stay here, all of you.” Dean said, leaving the room to follow the noise. You sighed and looked at Sam, wondering if you should backup Dean but decided against it because Greeley wasn’t here for Dean. He was here for Molly and two hunters with her was better than one.

You held your shotgun up, ready to fire at anything with their insides spilling out of them.

“Stay here.” Sam said, cautiously stepping to the next room and you looked at him to say something but something crashed through the window and you cringed inward, shielding your eyes from any glass. Molly screamed as Greeley took her, pulling her out of the window.

Dean came running back and you looked at him and Sam.

“Greeley’s got her!” You and the brothers jumped out the window and ran through the woods, hoping you would catch them but you lost sight of them.

“What do you we do now?” You asked, panting as you looked at the brothers.

“Let’s go back to the house,” Dean said, bringing you and Sam back to the house. “Damn, that guy is persistent.”

“Dean, we have to go find Molly.” You said, looking at him.

“No, we have to Greeley’s bones and no pressure or anything but we have about 2 hours before sunrise.” Dean said, stressed about this. Sam went back to the photo album to look at it himself and frowned a bit.

“Hey, check this out. There’s a photo in here that was taken on February 6th, 1992.”

“Isn’t that two weeks before the accident?” You asked, walking to him.

“Yeah. I mean, it looks like the hunting cabin, but... I swear there's a tree there right where they're standing. I should've thought of it.” Sam said, showing you and the Dean the photo.

“What is it?”

“It's an old country custom, Dean. Planting a tree as a grave marker.” Sam said, looking at Dean.

“You're like a walking encyclopedia of weirdness.” Dean said, grabbing his duffel bag.

“Hey, that's not a bad thing. You embrace that weirdness, Sam.” You said, wrapping an arm around his waist, giving him a side hug. You followed the brothers outside and back to the hunting cabin. As you got closer, you could hear Molly’s screams come from inside.

“I’ll go get Molly, you two start digging.” You said, taking care of Greeley yourself. His bones were more important and Dean and Sam were the strongest, therefore would be able to dig faster than you. You snuck into the house and saw Greeley walking to Molly who was hung up by her wrists.

You raised your gun and fired at his head, making him disappear. Molly cried happily when she saw you.

“Oh, thank God.”

“If that makes you feel better.” You smiled at her, freezing when you heard a growl come from behind you. You turned around and Greeley raised his hand, slicing your cheek. You grunted out in pain but you’ve had worse.

“Son of a bitch! This guy is really pissing me off!” You glared. Greeley growled and raised his hand, sending you flying into a wall hard. You cried out in pain and fell to the floor, sitting on the ground.

“Guys!! Hurry up!!” You yelled, hoping the boys would hear you. Greeley came at you with a knife and you got on your feet, dodging his attempts to cut you up. You gasped when he pushed you down harshly, wincing when you fell on your ankle wrong.

Greely raised the knife up, ready to strike when he staggered back, his eyes wide with fear.

“No… No…” Greely screamed as he bursted in flames, leaving you alone forever. You sighed in relief and you leaned back, using your good foot to lift yourself up. Sam and Dean rushed inside, Sam going to Molly and cutting her down and Dean rushed to you, looking at you.

“You okay?” Dean asked, checking you over.

“No, I fell on my ankle.” You tried putting weight on it but you cried out when pain shot up your leg. Dean nodded and leaned down, picking you up bridal style. He looked at Sam and nodded, leaving the cabin with him and Molly, carrying you back to the car.

“My hero.” You said, resting your head on his chest, putting your left hand over his heart.

“I’ll always be your hero.” Dean whispered so only you could hear. You smiled wide and saw the Impala come into view. Sam dropped the bag in the trunk and Dean placed you inside the car, holding the door open for Molly.

“I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what happened to my husband.” Molly said, not getting into the car.

“Molly…” Sam said with a sigh, looking at her.

“All this time... I've been looking for him, and you knew that... You knew that Greeley killed him, didn't you? He's dead.” Molly said with tears.

“No, Molly, David’s alive.” You said form the car, coming clean.

“What? You’re sure?” She asked, hope in her voice.

“She’s sure. We'll take you to him. Come on.” Sam said, taking over for Dean as Dean got behind the wheel. Molly smile widely and got in the car, smiling at you.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, trust me when I say I’ve endured worse.” You smiled, shifting your weight.

It was almost sunrise when Dean pulled up to a nice suburban house. The lights were on inside and you sighed, knowing who lived here.

“He's in that house, right there.” Sam said, looking at the house.

“I don’t understand.” Molly said, looking at you.

“Hopefully, you will.” You said, giving her a sad smile. The Winchesters and Molly got out of the car and you managed to slid over, getting out, resting your weight on your good foot. Dean stood next to you, putting an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into him, smiling a bit.

You looked at the house and saw David inside who was obviously older, wearing a bathrobe and pouring a cup of coffee.

“That's ... not ... It can't be,” Molly said, becoming scared once more. You looked at Dean who looked at you then at Sam who looked sad. You looked at back the house and saw a woman in a bathrobe come up to David and give him a kiss on the lips. “What's happening? Who is that?”

“That’s David’s wife. I'm sorry, Molly. 15 years ago, you and your husband hit Jonah Greeley with your car. David survived.” Sam said, coming clean about everything.

“What are you saying?” Molly said, getting a pained look on her face.

“We're saying there isn't just one spirit haunting Highway 41. There are two. Jonah Greeley and you.” Dean spoke up.

“For the past 15 years, one night a year you've been appearing on that highway.” Sam started to say.

“No, that’s not possible. It was our anniversary. February 22nd, 1992.” Molly said as if time hasn’t passed.

“Molly, it’s 2007.” You said gently, looking at her with sad eyes.

“Oh, God.” Molly said, getting another wave of tears.

“What about Greeley?” She asked, looking at Sam.

“Each year he punishes somebody for his death... ah, chasing them, torturing them. Each year, that somebody is you.”

“But I don’t remember any of it.” She said, overwhelmed.

“Because you couldn't see the truth, Molly.”

“So, that's why he won't let me off the highway. Because... I killed him. I killed us both.” She said, taking a seat on the edge of the curb.

“I’m sorry you had to find out about this.” You said.

“Why didn't you tell me when you first saw me? Why wait until now?” She asked.

“Would you have believed us?” You asked.

“And you needed me for bait.” She glared at you, Dean and Sam.

“Well, we needed you.” You tried to make it better. “And we brought you here so you could move on.”

“I have to tell him…” Molly said, interrupted by Sam.

“Tell him what? That you love him? That you're sorry? Molly, he already knows that. Look, if you want to go in there, we're not gonna stop you.” Sam said.

“But you’ll freak him out for life if you do.” You pointed out.

“David's already said his good byes, Molly. Now it's your turn. This is your unfinished business.” Sam said, walking closer to her.

“What am I supposed to do?” She asked, scared and lost.

“Just... let go. Of David. Of everything. You do that... we think you'll move on.” You said, looking at Sam and Dean.

“But you don’t know where.” Molly said, now full on crying.

“No, but we know you don’t belong here. Haven't you suffered long enough? It's time. It's time to go.” You said with a sigh. Molly nodded sadly and stood up, walking away from you and the brothers. At the first touch of sunlight, she becomes part of the light and vanishes before your eyes.

“I guess she wasn't so bad... for a ghost. You think she's really going to a better place?” Dean asked.

“It beats the alternative.” You said.

“I guess we'll never know. Not until we take the plunge ourselves, huh?” Dean said, trying to make the air lighter.

“Doesn't really matter, Dean. Hope's kind of the whole point.” Sam said, looking at you and Dean.

“Alright, Haley Joel, let’s hit the road,” Dean smirked as he teased his brother. Sam rolled his eyes and got in the car. “Can you get in by yourself?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” You smiled, kissing his cheek. He winked at you and got behind the wheel. You carefully got in the car and sat with your feet on the seat, resting your bad ankle. Dean drove away from the house just as light rain began to fall.

The Queens:

@maddieburcham1​ @ginamsmith​  @mogaruke​ @whit85-blog​ @inlovewithbja​ @spn67-sister​ @kdfrqqg​ @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes​ @roxyspearing​ @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose​ @cobrakai1967​ @essie1876​ @wishedworld​ @crispychrissy​ @laqueus-ludovicus​ @nostalgic-uncertainty​ @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel​ @potterhead1265​ @starswirlblitz​ @untitled39887​ @ta-n-ja​ @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi​ @tahbehonest​ @stay-in--place​​ @dreaminofdean @posiemax​​ @donnaintx​​ @mikey1822​​ @alexandriajanae4​​ @li-ssu​​ @just-another-winchester​​ @obsessivecompulsivespn​​ @emoryhemsworth​​ @newtospnfandom​​ @mizzezm​​ @goldenolaf25​​ @jessikared97​​

The Dean Beans:

@akshi8278​​ @mega-mrs-dean-winchester​​ @winchesterandpie​​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​​ @carribear31​​ @tacklesackles​​ @oreosatmidnight​​ @not-naturalfangirl​​ @missselinakitty​​ @iam-a-cutiepie​​  @kristendansmith​​ @milo-winchester-4ever​​ @jensenackesl​​ @codyshany316​​ @pheonyxstorm​​ @helllonearth​​ @juniorhuntersam​​ @pouterpufftrain​​ @ruprecht0420​​ @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car @carriemichelle2012​​ @aubreystilinski​​

Series Rewrite Junkies:

I wonder how an Italian who read this book would think of it -- similar to my experience with The Mango Bride? But maybe way different, because it’s a book for kids, and everyone keeps eating spaghetti.

There’s already been a movie adaptation of this book although I don’t think I’ll look into it too much; there’s only some degree of recreating that same feeling before whatever my version of the book is swept away. I don’t want to say that I hate movie adaptations, but they’re usually never better than the book.

I liked how the ending worked out for everyone -- it was one of the books where everything seemed to work out for everyone in the end. Unexpected, but fitting, which I guess is where I hope my life will be eventually. I don’t know what’s fitting for me yet, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out, and it’ll probably be very unexpected because I don’t know what it is.

I think I would have related to Scipio a lot though, just because at thirteen I didn’t think I had that much freedom either. But she did more telling than showing in what each character’s relationships with their adult figure is like; is Scipio’s life that horrible that he can’t wait to grow up? I’m sure that every kid’s had that mental fantasy. 

I have to ask myself the if question: if I went from twelve to twenty-two, how would I deal with it? I wouldn’t know (since I’m not twelve) but I’m far from being responsible enough to be me now if I had to start from being me then. There’s so much that’s happened in ten years that I don’t think my twelve-year-old self would have jumped to the conclusion that I was going to be an engineer. 

But I would be something close. Maybe a teacher, because that’s really the only other STEM occupation I knew at the time. If I had to start over like Barbarossa did, I’d probably go for being an optometrist. Or maybe I’d go for writing, because I was still putting pen to paper until I got to college.

Most of the characters seemed to be running away from something; Scipio from his home life, Prosper and Bo from their aunt, the Conte from his age -- and Cornelia Funke does a great job of letting the reader run away from something too. In the end though, I was really left longing to not have already graduated college, and to not be going to grad school.

April 10th, 2016

So if you are receiving this email, congratulations! You are the lucky recipient of a very Hamiltonian explanation of how I applied and eventually chose graduate schools. Please note that I am writing this the night prior to my flight back to San Diego from New York, mostly because I'll be too busy to write it at any other point in time -- if my decision changes, then I'll probably update this, although at this point it seems unlikely within the next five days.

I am not throwing away my shot Originally, my intention was to apply to UC Davis, UCLA, and UCSD; at the time, I wasn't sure if I could even get into those other two schools. Both had pretty good programs; UC Davis was 10th in the nation for Civil/Environmental Engineering. Stanford (3rd in the country for CEE) got added as a "dream" school shortly after talking with VDE and Krysl, then affirming with Lyon that my GPA was "ballin', okay?" and it wouldn't hurt to apply. Columbia and Michigan were thrown in almost whimsically. Michigan, because it was VDE's alma mater and I hear Ann Arbor was nice. Columbia had several other reasons: 1) Hamilton went to Columbia, formerly King's College, 2) it's New York and wouldn't it be awesome to live in the greatest city in the world for a year or two, 3) if I went to school in New York, my chances of seeing Hamilton with the original cast increases exponentially.

The applications were the same -- except Davis had a really weird format, so I thought my Davis application was the shittiest out of all of them since I couldn't cut and paste the same things over and over again. Stanford was pretty bad too, since it was the first that got turned in and it lowkey didn't help that Giulio came into the office the day I decided to turn it in. Columbia was probably the best one, since I had the most help on it.

Ranking after applications: Stanford, Columbia, Michigan, Davis, UCLA, UCSD

History has its eyes on you So then the acceptances started rolling in. Davis first, with an offer of $300 to go visit, which paid for the flight on the Friday of week 8. Michigan second and Stanford third -- since they had the same visit day, Stanford had priority Friday of week 10. UCLA the day after Stanford, and I only went as an excuse to skip school and take Rainbow there during Friday of week 9.

Michigan was out because Stanford took precedence over them. UCLA was out of the running because they accepted me the day after Stanford did, and it was hard to consider it a choice then. UCSD was out the day I got into Davis, because UCSD was my safety and I didn't want to come back.

And finally, Columbia was probably the most annoying -- their emails either consisted of "we are still in the process of going over applications" or "our application system is down, please do not use it on this day" until I heard from them last on March 7th, to schedule a phone interview.

The phone interview went well, except for the fact that fucking Giulio just happened to show up within a 2 yard radius when it was happening, but that is a story for another time (because I'm sure all of you love my Giulio stories, especially with my theory that he's a drug dealer). I immediately booked my flight to visit New York during week 2 in spring once I hung up the phone.

Ranking after acceptances: Stanford, Davis, Columbia

She's just non-stop! Davis' visit day went well. Maybe because it was my first visit, and maybe because they accepted me first, but at the end of the day, I remember wandering around the hall, mentally singing Helpless to myself, because I really liked them. Their faculty took the time to actually talk to us one-on-one, which is the most memorable part, and they either tried to get me excited about their research or tried to get me excited about being at Davis. Their program was either thesis-based or project/course-based. It was pretty flexible, and professors seem open to talking about ideas with you.

UCLA's day was fun, but their presentations were boring and Rainbow, Saya, and I had more fun wandering the campus and driving around Los Angeles. It wasn't enough to really get them back on the charts, especially since they emphasized that financial aid would be lacking.

Stanford was all right -- the departmental presentations were nice and it brought people from all over the country. Hanging out with Felipe was great, and by the end of the day I could convince myself that I would like it there. There wasn't many one-on-one interactions with professors, unlikeDavis, and the financial aid wasn't going to be stellar, but I could overlook that because it's fucking Stanford. The doors that would open would probably be worth more than the degree itself. Their program is straightforward course-based, and they were brutally honest about PhDs: they typically only choose from their MS cohort to move forward. So of course I wanted that door open too, and man oh man, who wouldn't kill for a Stanford degree and all the bells and whistles that go along with it?

Ranking after spring break: Stanford, Davis, Columbia

I am watching it burn So at this point, Stanford was pretty much it, and as far as I could tell, Columbia was really just the thorn in my side with all of these complications -- just accept me already, geez -- and my trip was mostly for New York because I doubted that nothing would deter me from going to Stanford.

Stanford said that they would get back to me about my financial aid on March 31st. I didn't hear back from them, so I called on April 1st. They said it would be done by Wednesday, April 6th. Then April 6th rolls around without anything from them still, and I call April 7th. The person who picked up the phone on April 7th said that the admissions committee still had my application -- which didn't make sense to me, because from the day they accepted me to the day they said they would get back to me about the aid, it would be about 6 weeks.

You have to understand two things. First, it's not about the money -- I didn't want to make a decision based on finance, because opportunity was more valuable to me than the net amount of debt by the end of my program. Stanford was not going to be as generous as Davis was, even though their endowment's huge, but it was Stanford and I really wanted to go and I was willing to make the sacrifice of cost to be able to attend. After all, Hurricane Patricia doesn't happen on the day I decide to apply to Stanford for me not to go to fucking Stanford. Second, it really doesn't take that long to tell me that I'm not getting that much help.

Kimberly sends me a really nasty email. Something that really bothered me about it was that she told me to contact her instead of Brenda, but it's Brenda's contact information on the admit letter. And something else that bothered me about it was that it was stand-offish and rude, and as a person who works customer service, I can fucking tell from miles away. "Please note that we are working on financial aid decisions and you should hear from us very soon" -- but I should have heard back over a week before, and there's no apology for taking so long, no real explanation as to why. It really soured Stanford for me to get something so deliberately salty in writing, because obviously you don't give a fuck about me and I can tell you're being bitchy on purpose because for some reason you can't meet your own six-week long deadlines.

Strangely enough, my TA Chris also applied to Stanford, and he told me that they didn't get back to him about financial aid until the day he had to accept offers... so I don't think Stanford will be getting back to me in time.

I hated to admit it, but Stanford's visit day didn't click with me either. It didn't feel as friendly as Davis did, and I was convinced that they didn't have to be, because they were Stanford. Their campus was pretty, but something -- I can't quite think of what -- didn't feel real about the department. And I hoped to get past that and still attend. But damn, my impression of them as of now is somewhere in between stepping in dog shit or getting crapped on by a pigeon.

In New York, you can be a new man Meanwhile, that same day, I had a blast hanging out at Columbia. Their campus is gorgeous and their program sounded awesome. They're involved with a lot of industry and their lab seems so active, and it felt almost as lively and vibrant as New York City itself. Getting lost in the city was the best part of my trip, because it was a new challenge just trying to figure it out. To the Richard Rodgers Theater, to the One World Trade Center, to the Statue of Liberty, to the Empire State Building, to Rockafeller Center, to Times Square, to Wall Street, to Trinity Church -- and that's just Manhattan. I'm actually really upset that I'm leaving because I didn't feel like I was done.

Even if I'm not touristing during school, I don't think I would be unhappy living in New York and going to school in Columbia because it was new and different and I didn't know how desperately I wanted new and different until I got here.

It seems silly to put personalities to these schools, but Columbia cared more about me than Stanford did. Scott emailed me back to let him know if I had any questions less than a day later. It seems even more silly to attribute these schools to characters from Hamilton, but it happened, and for those who are familiar with the musical, I'd be happy to let you know how it worked out.

Do you like it uptown? It's quiet uptown As much as I fell in love with Columbia, it was complicated. First, New York was too far and I was immediately homesick the first day; the transition would be a really tough one. Second, housing would be a bitch: I would need to make temporary arrangements to live in New York while I try to make slightly more permanent arrangements to live in New York. The prospect of doing that was kind of scary (although New Yorkers aren't actually jerks though!) and I don't know how well it would work out if my co-signers were from California. Third, and probably most importantly, Columbia does not offer me financial aid. Since I'm a course-based MS, it would be hard for me to find outside aid, and Columbia just doesn't fund their MS.

Keep in mind though, that I was willing to make a decision as if money were no object for Stanford -- Columbia would be more costly just because they straight up offer me no aid (but Stanford might) and the distance also makes it more expensive because of airfare and shipping and other expenses that involves a move this huge. But you have no idea how hard I fell for Columbia, and I can't believe I'm leaving New York and I can't believe I'm saying no to this.

If I throw away my shot, is this how you remember me? I can't shake the bad feeling I have Stanford, especially after what's been happening. It really doesn't feel like they care that I'm there or not. I won't have the chance to go to Stanford again, but at this point, I don't think I would want to, even if it's top in my field. I personally don't enjoy being treated like crap.

I love Columbia, and I see myself there, but how much of a toll would that take?

Davis, from the first visit, I fell in love with, from the program, to the faculty, to the town. All of my expenses are covered. It's the best fit for me overall, honestly -- it's the only school I can live with saying yes to.

I just might regret that night for the rest of my days It’s funny because I almost didn’t apply to Davis because of their application. But Columbia though. It was really painful to say no. Like four months later and I’m not over it no. My counselor said something about how I made the decision based on the knowledge that I had at the time, and that yeah, I’ll love Columbia in a “I saw it one day and it’s all of a sudden #goals” sort of way. But Davis was the better fit, and I don’t regret spending nearly a whole grand for a week to just walk around Central Park to make a decision.