"So get this," he hears from behind the computer. His little brother gently brushes away a strand of long chocolate brown hair and tucks it behind his ear. God dammit Sammy. Can you please just let me cut your hair? This thought is never very far from his mind most of the time. But he humors the giant next to him. It was his idea to look for a case. He thought it would take the edge off of what is currently going on. With all the shit that's been hitting the fan lately, he could really use the break. Jack is missing, mom trapped in another dimension, Lucifer is up and kicking, the impending dickwad, Michael, is threatening to come to our world, and the Brit's back. I need a drink. He takes another swig from his beer and Sam's voice brings him out of his thoughts.

"There is a report of two kids' dead in Gila National Forest, New Mexico," Sam points to the article on the screen.

"Bear attack. Keep looking," Dean grunted harshly. He wasn't impressed.

"So a bear can carefully rip out teeth, drain people of all their blood, and slice their throats open?" Sam retorted. He is now impressed. Standing up from his chair he makes his way to the other side of the table and looks down at the screen. Damn. Looks legit.

"Vamp?" he considered.

"What's with the teeth thing though? Do vampires eat human teeth?" Dean shuttered at the thought. Hope not. He thought for a moment. Was this really a good idea? I mean, they should be trying to find Jack and get their mom back. It's fine. He assured himself. Donatello is looking into the tablet day and night for the spell. It'll be nice to get out and punch something.

"Might as well check it out," he concluded. With a sigh, the older brother goes to pack his things to get ready but the man at the computer stops him.

"Dean, it'll be quick. This is just to catch our breath. Two days tops and we'll be back to finding mom and Jack. I just thought-," Dean cuts him off.

"Yeah, I know. Use a break, I got it. I agreed to this, remember? I'm getting along Sam, no need to mother me," he announced, brushing the concern off. This earned a frown from Sam and a twang of guilt pinched his chest. And with that, the two brothers packed up into Baby and where off to whatever the hell they singed off to. Apparently, they bit off more than they could chew. Again.

The cold dryness of the air sent chills racing up and down his spine. He pushed away the cold the best he could and focused at the task at hand. Two dead kids. Case. Solve. Push on. In the morgue, the doctor on duty, Dr. Moore, gave them range of the corpses after a flash of their badges. Donning on the names of Adams and Houston they uncover the bodies to reveal the horror. Two kids, one female and one male, lay frozen and pale on the hard metal table. They couldn't have been older than 16.

"Sarah Millers and Jacob Cherry. Both have only their complete top row of teeth removed and cause of death is the nice gash in their necks. The paper says their teeth were removed before time of death. I don't know Dean. Maybe it's just another nut-job," Sam recited the report. Hm. As he always says, people are crazy. Snapping on some gloves Dean checks the mouths of the vics. They are indeed toothless. It looks like they were ripped from the root. Ouch. As the bookworm read through the reports more he studied the bodies. What maniac would do this? Something caught his eye on the right wrist of Sarah. What looked like a birthmark was a small imprint of a flower. It blended in with the girl's tan skin so it was easily missed. Dean looked to the boy and on his right wrist was the same flower. It was hidden by his dark skin so it would be missed as well.

"Uh, Sam," Dean called. Sam lifted his head from the report and walked over. He showed him the marks on the corpses' arms. "Is this a coincidence or a cult thing?" Dean asked giving Sam a knowing look that only his Sammy would know. With a nod, the boys went out to scope out the locals.

"Sarah was like, my best friend. She and I, we like, totally did everything together. If only she just didn't go off with her fucking boyfriend into the forest she wouldn't be like, dead." The girl, who called herself Jane, glumly recalled her friendship with the late Sarah. She didn't seem like the killing type, but if Dean had leaned one thing throughout his time hunting it was to never judge a book by its heavily caked makeup. Sam comforted the girl and handed her a tissue, he was always better at the comforting bit of the job.

"Can you tell us what she was doing in the forest in the first place? And maybe did she have any enemies? Exes? People that might want to hurt her?" he asked.

"Enemies? Hell no! She was like, the sweetest person. Kinda an airhead, but sweet," Dean looked to her right wrist. Nope. No flower. To her left wrist. None there either. Strange. Sam put his left hand gently to her bare arm, his silver ring touching her skin. At least she's not a shifter. One less thing to worry about. They stared to wear pure silver rings on their fingers. It was an easy way to weed out the real meat suits from the fake ones with a simple handshake or touch on the arm. The Iron Giant over there wore his on his left ring finger. He however, wore it on his right middle finger. He was trying to get laid here!

"As to why they were in that awful place, they were going to this creepy cabin way deep into the forest. Dumbasses," the last part she mumbled under her breath. Amen girl. What was it with people going to hunted places? Natural selection I suppose. They wrapped up the conversation and asked a few more people the same questions. The answers were similar in the way that the apparent couple were headed to the forest to see the haunted cabin. However, the reasoning for their actions were scattered. Some said that they were going to screw themselves silly, dumb out of their minds, or just curious. The answers were still getting them nowhere so the brothers hit the books. Or rather hit the interwebs.

"Turns out that there is a local legend about the cabin," Dean reported to his brother. He coughed lightly from the damp and stingy air of the motel room. Sam lifted his head to listen to him. "Yeah, apparently this little girl died there back in 1970. The name of the girl is unknown but they dubbed her the Terror of the Trees,"

"Was she a dentists?" Sam questioned referring to the teeth thing.

"Well she's like 13. Can 13-year-olds be dentists?" Dean wondered out loud. Sam scoffed and removed his computer from his lap.

"Might as well check it out. You game?" As Sam got up Dean sighed long and hard, pinching the bridge of his nose. I need another beer. The beginning of a headache pinched at his temples. More like two beers. "You ok?" Sam queried.

"If you fucking ask me that one more time I'll jab you in the throat, Sammy," Dean warned. He was fine. Just a little tired. Ok a lot tired. But that doesn't mean he gets to quit. Dean looked up at the slight hurt on his little brother's face. He really should be nicer to him, he's only trying to help.

"I was just-," Sam was cut off by a knock at the door. "Saved by the bell," he murmured. He grabbed his gun and placed it on the door and slowly unlocked it. Dean tensed up, ready for anything. He heard a "Cas?" when the door finally opened and relaxed to the point of melting into his chair like a puddle. That bastard he's supposed to be resting. He reminded him so as the angle walked into the room.

"Hello Dean," he greeted walking towards the table.

"Come on Dean, he's fine. You don't need to mother him," Sam mocked. That cocky sonofabitch.

"It is true Dean. You have no need to worry. I have healed from the…ordeal," Castiel assured. "I just thought you two would like some assistance with this hunt," he admitted. It was evident that he needed a break too. The weight of losing Jack once again was visibly crushing him. Dean could practically see the light fading from his halo. Besides, he felt like shit because of the whole Asmodeus thing. He sighed and got up from the chair. Couldn't hurt.

"We were just going to check out the spooks in the woods, you can tag along," it was like a light shining in a pool of water. A small smile graced his lips (heh, grace) as the team walked out the door and into the woods they went.

The cabin in question was a small wooden house with a small chimney protruding from the roof. It was a little dainty thing with unbroken glass windows. That's unusual for something that's supposed to be haunted. In fact, the entire house was nicely kept even with small plants neatly grown around it. It seemed like the two men accompanying him also noticed this fact. Are we in the right place? There was no light emitted from the cottage however, so the spookiness factor still remained. It wasn't as really spooky, just slightly disturbing with the eerie silence and darkness of the night. Still, two kids are dead and this was the place they were headed.

Gathering up courage, the boys stepped into the house and were greeted with creaking floors. As they squeaked through the house, Sam tested the rooms with an EMF, Castiel kept on guard, and Dean tried to find, well, anything.

"No EMF, weird," announced Sam.

"Curious. I sense a strong presence in the house," Castiel said, looking in the cabinets of what looked like a kitchen. The entire place was sorted and stocked. It couldn't have been more than an hour that someone else was here let alone 48 years. An archway had a large piece of wood hanging from it. That's gonna fall. Suddenly, loud creaking echoed through the rooms. Now alert Dean slowly moved his way to the main hallway that lead to the stairs which lead to the attic. The others in his party followed suit, splitting up to cover different parts of the house. Come out, come out, where ever you are. Rifle at the ready, he tried to place his feet where the boards wouldn't creak. With his heart pounding in his ears he slowed to a stop. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Quickly, he spun around to meet the figure behind him. A blur of tan made him stop and lower his gun.

"God damn it Cas, you can't just sneak up behind me!" he whispered yelled, scolding the angle. Just as Castiel was about to mutter and apology, his eyes shifted to behind his head. Spinning again, this time he was met with an invisible force pushing him into Castiel behind him. Squirming to get up, the two were back to back in seconds flat ready for a fight. An explosion accompanied with a puff of smoke erupted next to Dean. The shock making the piece of wood fall from its archway to land on an unsuspecting moose under it. Dean watches as his brother crumbles to the ground, his body limp. Dean's stomach twists into several knots. Sonofabitch. No. No, Sammy. His vision was filled with red as he cursed out whoever or whatever this bitch was.

"No!" Dean heard it. It was small, a whisper but he still heard it. It wasn't Cas. Lifting his gun up once again he aimed at the source of the sound. It was a small shadow of a child completely covered in black cloth with a hood. As he started to squeeze his hand he heard another.

"No! Stop!" It sounded feminine. The shadow stepped quickly closer heading straight towards Sam. Oh no she doesn't. He pulled the trigger but the usual puff of a ghost didn't follow. Instead the figure doubled over from the force of the blow and fell to the ground. The actual fucking hell?

"I'm not a ghost you fucktruck!" the not-ghost gritted out. Dean didn't care in the slightest. He rushed to Sam. He was just knocked out, he'll be fine. Castiel put the tip of his angle blade to the back of the neck of the not-ghost. The figure stayed crumpled over. He put his brother in a more comfortable positon against the wall and stood up.

"Alright then. Who- no, what the hell are you," Dean growled.

"She is the strong presence," Castiel stated, voice cold. The not-ghost didn't answer, instead she grabbed the angle blade from Castiel, surprising him.

"Viesuru!" the not-ghost shouted, putting a hand up. And with that the angle was pushed back to the wall. The tight space's not leaving any room for a proper fight. Dean lifted his gun to shoot again. It was a stupid idea since it had been established she wasn't a ghost and he couldn't get close enough to use his knife. Right now it's his only option.

"Can you just wait one moment? Your friend is injured and I would like to help but you two are currently trying to kill me!" she barked, taking off her dark hood. She's young, seems about 16, with auburn hair braided into two short pigtails starting from the top of her head and rapping around the back and ending in two little tuffs of hair. Her smallish face made her eyes appear large, which because of the darkness he couldn't see all that well. Besides she had her eyes looking everywhere but him and Castiel. Now he could get a real good look at her. She stood long and thin but not skeletal. Her hood looked like it was straight out of Men in Tights accompanied with a long black dress made her look like an elf. He slowly lowered his gun and as he did Castiel slowly made his way back to the floor. Eleven over there still had Castiel's angle blade so he didn't make a move in fear she might do something crazy.

"My name is… Kerri, and I think there has been a huge misunderstanding."

"Ya think?" he snapped. Dean was now 110% done with this 'Kerri', one wrong move from her and she's getting a knife in her neck.

"No need to be so freakin' rude. You know that you were the ones to invade my house right?" Kerri declared. What? Her house? She moved towards where Sam was behind him. He sidestepped in front of her, blocking her from his little brother. He was still knocked out cold so he wouldn't be able to protect himself. "Relax there Eric, I'm just gonna bring him into the kitchen so I can heal his wounds." Dean heard her say "Mariquil" and a wave of calm washed over him. He reluctantly complied and huffed as he picked up Sam to put him on a small table in the middle of the apartment sized kitchen. Castiel followed.

"Foteia," Kerri breathed out. Suddenly, the multiple candles in the room lit a flame which put a warm glow in the room. Now he could see his surrounding a lot better along with the little elf girl. Well, she didn't look like an elf now. She had taken off her hood and placed it on a wooden chair, presumably, made out of the same light wood of the table. Her dress was short, went down to about her knees. It had no straps and simply draped on her shoulders. At the waist was dozen of little pink flowers sown into the dress. They traveled down the skirt of the dress like rain. It contrasted to the pitch black color of the fabric. However, it was ruffed up a bit because of the rock salt. A twang of guilt twisted at his stomach.

She looked young. Too young to be living by herself.

Dean racked his brain for something that could a) make a force to throw people around the room like a rag doll especially an angel, and b) light specific candles on fire with one word. The first thing to come to mind was an old ghost, but that has been established to be false. A witch maybe? But, don't they need hex bags for their spells? He didn't really know, listening to Rowena when she was babbling wasn't a part of his agenda. An angel? A demon? Those were possible. But he wasn't getting a bitchy vibe from her. And why this vessel? Dean was pretty sure the dickweeds in the sky or in the ground wouldn't want to inhabit a little girl. Maybe the gross ones.

God, he wished his brother was awake. He would know what to do. He looked to Castiel for help. Instead of meeting his gaze, the angle was watching Kerri examine his brother. Dude, lock it up. Not liking the silence, he tried to strike up conversation. The girl has proven not to be hostile so he trusts her, for now.

"So, you a witch?" he asked. Might as well get my answer from the source. She didn't lift her gaze from Sam. Instead of answering, she simply said:

"He'll be fine. I don't think he has a concussion. But I'm no doctor," Not a dentist. "I'll be right back with some water and painkillers," well she just fucking ignored me. As she left the room, Castiel's eyes followed her. What's up with him?

"What's up with you?" Dean asked Castiel and his head snapped up to meet his gaze, finally.

"I'm not sure I understand what you are referring to," he responded.

"Dude, you were eyeing her like a hawk. I can get your caution but she seems like she doesn't want to kill us at the moment," Castiel sighed at the comment.

"It isn't that. It's just- she- her power is very familiar. I'm not sure why."

"Have you met her before?" Dean asked genially curious.

"No, not her specifically. I just can't place it," Kerri came back into the room with, as she said, a glass of water and painkillers. Sam started to awake, groaning, moaning, and cursing. She rushed to his side and handed him the water and pills.

"What- what's," the confused moose looked down at Kerri with the water and two pills. "Who are you?" he asked, tensing up a bit.

"The name's Kerri. You were knocked out," she replied politely not looking directly at his face. Sam accepted the water and pills with a thanks. He looked around at the crowd around him and relaxed when he saw his big brother. Dean went to his side.

"You alright?" he asked as he helped Sam to his feet.

"I've been better. Not dizzy so that's a good sign. What happened?" he held his head in his hands.

"You were hit in the head by a piece of wood. Weren't knocked out for too long," Dean replied. Oh almost forgot. "By the way, you completely ignored my question earlier," he addressed. Sam was slightly leaning on him for support.

"Oh, sorry," she apologized. "I don't get many visitors, and the usually don't try to kill me. Usually," she looked away sheepishly. "But I'm not a witch. Witches are mean and bloodthirsty," she finally replied to Dean's question.

"Then what are you?" he let Sam sit down in the chair beside him.

"I'm- I'm a wizard. One of the last ones actually."