A/N: This was a story that I had to write for English class, which is why somethings are explained rather simply. I thought it might be fun to post it and see what happens. Reviews and comments are welcome. I don't own Supernatural or To Kill A Mockingbird. They belong to Eric Kripke and Harper Lee, respectively.

1

"How can it be so hot in the middle of freaking nowhere?" Dean Winchester complained loudly to his younger brother, Sam, as they trudged down a dusty, unpaved road. Earlier that day, the brothers had had an encounter with the angel Gabriel, who had once or twice posed as a trickster and played pranks on them. Gabriel, being the sort of celestial being his is, cruelly (or playfully, depending on who you were talking to) sent them out into the middle nowhere town called Maycomb, of course without their dad's old '67 Chevy Impala. So now here they were, stumbling through the unusually warm evening, not knowing quite where they were.

"Hey," Sam nudged his brother and nodded at a building up ahead. "It's an inn." They walked into the Maycomb Inn and up to the counter. Dean rang the bell for service, eager to flirt with the woman that was sure to be at the desk. A tall man, almost as tall as Sam, stepped out from the back room and Dean cringed internally. "Can I help you?" the man said gruffly with a thick southern accent, hinting that they were in the Deep South. Dean cleared his throat.

"Yeah, we'd like a room with two beds,"he said. "Yessir, how many nights are you gonna stay?" Dean looked at Sam. "Two nights,"said Sam, nodding. "All right, that'll be $2.27.," the man said pleasantly. "Oh, and you'll have to sign in." He pushed a worn out book with dozens of signatures scrawled in it towards the two men as they exchanged glances in a silent conversation. $2.27? That couldn't be right. Dean opened his wallet anyway and handed him the smallest bill he had, a ten. The man took it and was about to put it away when he stopped and looked at it closer.

"Something wrong with it?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Where'd you come up with this?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"I've never seen a bill like this." The Winchesters looked at each other again. "Look, you can stay when you have real money. Until then, get out of here!" And with that, the baffled brothers were back out onto the streets again.

"What was that about?" Dean asked, dusting the dirt off of his jeans. Sam thought for a moment, then realized something.

"Did you see the inside of the inn? How it was decorated?"

"Yeah, we've been in a lot worse. So, what?"

"The candles that were burning on the walls were real. There was no air conditioning in a heat wave like this. Dean, do you know what that means?" Dean pursed his lips.

"That son of bitch!" he yelled, kicking the dust up. "He sent us into the past again!"

"Calm down. Just call your angel,"Sam said with a little smirk. Dean sneered.

"Shut up." He put his head down and closed his eyes. "Castiel, who art probably running away from heaven right now, we pray that you have your ears on. Uh...over and out?" He slowly opened one eye and then the other, looking around expectantly for the familiar trenchcoated angel, but he was nowhere to be found. Dean sighed and they continued along the street. They walked in silence, trying to formulate ways to get back to the future again, when they noticed in a yard up ahead that there were three children, around the ages of nine and thirteen. The oldest boy had a cast on his left arm. They were yelling and pretending to stab each other with a pair of scissors in the calf. Sam sprinted over to them.

"What are you doing?" Dean heard him ask as he ran up to the kids and his brother.

"We're not doing nothing,sir," the youngest and the only girl said. "We're just playing out what happened at the Radley house."

"What happened at the Radley house?",Sam asked.

"Why, everyone in Maycomb county knows what happened there,"the oldest boy said. "Why don't you?"

"We're...from out of town," Dean fabricated quickly. "Just tell us."

"Well, they say that Boo Radley's folks locked him up 'cause he shut the old beadle up in the courthouse outhouse. While he sitting in their livingroom cutting things out of the paper for his scrapbook, his father walked by and he just-" the boy drove the scissors downward with both hands, imitating the action. "And Miss Stephanie Crawford says that he just pulled 'em right out, wiped 'em on his pants and kept cutting away on the newspaper." Sam and Dean exchanged glances, then Sam asked, "What happened after that?"

"He ran down the street, choppin' up everyone!" the other boy exclaimed. The first boy elbowed him.

"That's not what happened, Dill, and you know it. Mrs. Radley ran screaming into the street that Boo was gonna kill 'em all, but when the police got there, he was just sitting there, cutting the paper out like before."

"How long ago was that?" Dean asked.

"About 18 years ago," the girl said.

"Has anything weird been happening in the neighborhood?" Sam asked.

"Well, a few days ago, Mr. Ewell tried to kill me and Jem,"she said. The brothers went wide eyed.

"What?"

"He wanted to get back at Atticus for making him look like a fool during the trial," the oldest, Jem, said. The Winchesters thought it better not to ask about that right now. They had enough on their plate. A tall, thin black woman came running out of the house and gathered the kids around her waist. She was pretty for a caretaker and he face revealed many small creases around her eyes and in between her eyebrows.

"What're you children doin' talkin' to these strange men?"

"They were just askin' about the Radley place, Cal,"the girl said.

"Now, Miss Jean Louise, you don't need to be talkin' to strangers meet on the stre- what in the heck hill are you doin' with my sewin' scissors?"Cal said and then interrupted herself when her gaze fell upon Jem.

"We were, uh…"he trailed off.

"Cutting the grass!",Dill exclaimed, looking proud of himself. Cal looked at him, shook her head, and looked back at the Winchesters.

"What are you all doin' here anyway?"

"We're…",Dean started, trying to think of something that sounded believable.

"...writing a news article about the trial,"Sam filled in quickly. Cal's mouth took on a slight curve in the corner, hinting her annoyance.

"We'll have to see what Mister Finch thinks about all this. Until he gets home tonight, would you men care for lemonade with us?",she said, trying very hard to be polite.

"Yes, thank you,"Sam said politely back. They could gather information on this Ewell guy and figure out what he was up to. Not many guys try to kill some kids because someone make them look like an idiot, which probably meant that Ewell isn't a regular guy. Cal pushed the children ahead of her, her thin mouth tight, and lead the Winchesters onto the porch, then into the house. For the next hour and a half, the brothers were forced to make small talk in a time they knew nothing about. Dean had had about enough of this and excused himself to the restroom. He closed the door and sighed, looking out the small window. He turned to the sink, splashed some cold water on his face, and looked at himself in the mirror, which was opposite the window. Something outside caught his eye and he quickly spun back around to face it. Two bright yellow orbs glowed from a distance. 'Just a neighbor,' Dean thought. But then they moved. The bushes rustled violently, the orbs fleeing from the window. He dried his face off and stiffly returned to the awkward conversation going on in the livingroom.

"Hey, Miss Cal here offered us the guestroom for tonight while we interview Atticus. Wasn't that kind of her, Dean?"Sam said rigidly, not at all in his normal tone, signaling that he was also growing tired of the conversation.

"Hm? Oh, yeah. Real kind,"Dean said absently, still focusing on the image he saw. "I think that we should go ahead and settle in until Atticus gets home." Sam nodded in agreement and thanked Cal for the lemonade, while Dean mumbled out a "Thanks." as the two headed to the back guestroom.