The cabin was warm when Lena stepped inside, the scent of burning wood mingling with the faintest trace of pine.

She'd have to thank Cordelia for insisting on having someone get a fire ready for her when she arrived, and actually getting the guy out here.

Though Lena is sure she called up the nearest Craigslister and offered him a nice bill fold if he did her bidding.

Still, she couldn't complain.

The cabin reminded her mildly of her own, which Lena attributes only to the hearth, which bows upwards into the ceiling.

The kitchen lights cast a soft, yellow glow over the rustic wooden cabinets. And Lena let's out a long lonesome sigh as her bag hits the floor with a dull thud. She'd leave it there till morning. There was no sense in getting everything unpacked when she had all day tomorrow to rifle with that.

Lena made a slow circuit of the cabin, taking it in. The more she looks the more she realizes it really wasn’t much different from the place she had back home — vaulted ceilings, exposed beams, and just enough worn-in furniture to make it feel lived-in.

Maybe she had been a little over dramatic, but David Duchovny really wasn't any help with the situation whatsoever.

If anything, he enabled her more.

And had always been a bit of a drama King.

The couch looks different than when she was here last. The green cloth replaced with soft leather. The coffee table is moved to the right, just a tad, and the shelves were half-filled with books left behind by previous renters.

The owner, a woman in her years, had never been a big fan of furnishings. She also wasn't a big fan of chatting with tenants. Which had made Cordelia more than a little perturbed the first time she had book this place.

Who didn't want to meet the person who was staying in a house you own for two and a half years?

A crazy lady. She had to be crazy. Only  crazy women didn't like every single person.

That's what Cordelia had said.

The bedroom was upstairs, a loft-style space that overlooked the main floor. A large window on the far wall revealed an expanse of untouched wilderness, the towering evergreens swaying gently in the breeze. Lena placed a hand on the wooden railing as she climbed, exhaling slowly.

“Not bad,” she murmured to herself, reminicing.

The trees had grown thicker in her absence. And the quiet settled around her like a thick, familiar blanket.

Too quiet.

Lena rubbed her arms and made her way back downstairs, where her suitcases sat untouched by the door.

Unpacking could wait, but she did rifle through her bag to find her ipod, earbuds, and speaker bank.

The speaker bank she sat on the kitchen counter and plugged in to charge. But the earbuds she poked into the ipod jack and pushed firmly into her ears.

Jet lag made her tired. But more than tired, it made her irritable. She needed to move, to breathe in the fresh air and shake off the travel fatigue that clung to her like static.

It was the one ritual she stood by whenever they were filming for the X-Files. And the only one she had brought back home.

Lena grabbed her jacket, pulling it on as she stepped outside.

The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine needles. The late afternoon sky had begun to shift, painted in muted strokes of pink and orange as the sun dipped toward the horizon.

It was nearly dark, but Lena didn't mind. Bears didn't scare her. There were bears in Kentucky. Lena did have a weird fascination with saddling up a moose and riding him out of the woods like Teddy Roosevelt, but Cordelia had given her the pep talk before she boarded for Vancouver, and Lena promised she would refrain from any moose taming.

Though she never gave a time frame of when she would go back to dreaming.

Lena walked without a particular destination in mind, following a narrow dirt path that led away from the cabin and into the thick of the woods. Birds flitted between the trees, their calls echoing in the quiet.

The world felt bigger out here — untamed and stretching endlessly in every direction.

Maybe British Columbia wasn't hell. But it sure wasn't heaven, and it sure wasn't Kentucky.

It reminded her of home, in a way. Of the early mornings spent wandering the hills before the world woke up, before responsibilities and expectations could weigh her down.

She had spent so much time convincing herself she had left this world behind, that she had what she wanted and she was settled.

But here she was again, far from the life she had tried so hard to disappear from.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking the spell. She pulled it out without looking at the screen.

“Lena Grace Kenner,” Cordelia’s voice came through as a song before Lena even had a chance to say hello. “You in one piece, or did you get mauled by a bear yet?”

Lena's cheeks twinged red, toeing at a loose rock in the path. “Not yet. But according to my cab driver, it’s only a matter of time.”

“Smart guy.” Cordelia paused, and Lena could hear the rustling of papers in the background. “How’s the cabin?”

“It’s nice. Very quiet.”

“Sounds like your worst nightmare.”

Lena huffed a laugh, shaking her head, though Cordelia couldn't see her. “You act like I don’t live like this back home.”

“Yeah, but back home, you’ve got animals to talk to, and locals to annoy.”

Lena rolled her eyes. “I’ll survive.”

“Well, don’t get too comfortable.” Cordelia’s voice took on a more business-like tone. “Kripke wants you on set first thing Monday. Just some camera tests, some light rehearsal, nothing major.” Lena glanced up at the sky, watching the clouds shift overhead. Three days. The countdown had started.

“I figured as much.”

“Dean and Sam’s actors, Jensen Ackles and Jared Pada-something-a-rether got in yesterday. You’ll probably meet them Wednesday.”

Five days.

Lena felt a twinge of something in her gut—anticipation, nerves, maybe both. She still hadn’t quite wrapped her head around the fact that she was doing this, that Supernatural was officially happening and she was a part of it.

“You’re excited,” Cordelia said, almost smugly.

Lena rolled her eyes again, kicking a stone from her path. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know you, Kenner.”

Lena kicked at another loose rock, watching it tumble off the path. At this rate, there wouldn't be any more hills in William's Lake.

She hated how well Cordelia could read her. “I just don’t know what to expect.”

“Well, if it’s anything like The X-Files, expect long days, cold nights, and a lot of waiting around between takes.”Lena groaned. Cordelia couldn't help but laugh. She really did find enjoyment out of this.

“You’re really selling it 'Delia.”

Cordelia laughed. “You’ll be fine. I mean, unless the lead actors are divas. Then you’re screwed. You could have another Duchovny situation!”

Lena didn't even want to think about that. Thinking about it could bring it into fruition, and she had enough anxiety about the leads already.

“Great.”

There was a brief pause, then Cordelia’s voice softened slightly. “You are excited, though, right?”

Lena hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek.

The truth was, she wasn’t sure.

Excited wasn’t quite the right word. She felt something, but it was tangled up with so many other things — nerves, uncertainty, the nagging feeling that she was walking straight into something bigger than she’d bargained for.

But despite all of that. . .she liked Layla. And Kim Manners had curated her specifically for the role.

She couldn't help but feel some sense of pride at that fact.

“Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I think I am.”

Cordelia’s tone turned teasing again, and Lena sighed. “Told you so.” The call ended, leaving Lena alone with the deep dark quiet once more.

She slid her phone back into her pocket and turned toward the cabin, her boots crunching against the dirt. Lena didn’t know what the next few months would bring, but she had a feeling they were about to change everything.

And maybe — just maybe — it wouldn't be for the worse?

Oh, and that cabbie would have a story to tell.