"That's the ideal meeting...once upon a time, only once, unexpectedly, then never again."
― Helen Oyeyemi

Dean rolled his eyes as he pulled onto Poplar Street. Why had his father told him to come here – to a small town called Margarette, Virginia? Dean hadn't argued – he never did – but that didn't mean he completely ignored the research. It was smack-dab in the middle of Virginia, along the Appomattox River. It was an old town a few miles southwest of Appomattox, and it was rich with Revolutionary and Civil War history. However, Dean didn't see any signs of demonic omens surrounding the town. In fact, the entire middle part of Virginia was usually void of anything demonic. Surely the rich history of the town meant that there were some ghosts around, but it shouldn't be anything his dad couldn't handle on his own.

Dean pulled into the driveway of an old colonial-style brick. It was pretty nice, but it wasn't huge. He figured it was probably the size of their old house in Lawrence. His dad was already waiting in the driveway, and Dean let out a sigh. He hoped his dad hadn't been waiting long – he didn't need to give him something else to bitch about. Ever since Sammy had left for Stanford four years ago, his father's mood had been passive-aggressive at best. His dad didn't look too annoyed, though. Dean got out of the car and looked up at the house, giving a quiet whistle. He looked to one of the upstairs widows, and saw a mass of curls disappear from the window as the curtains fell closed.

"You get here okay?" John asked.

"Yes, sir," Dean replied.

John looked at him with curious eyes. "I'll give credit where it's due – you haven't asked once about why you're here," he said.

"I figure you'll tell me if it's important," Dean replied.

John nodded and said; "I'll explain in detail later, but just go along with what I say for now."

"I always do," Dean mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?" John asked.

Dean looked at his dad and replied; "I said: Yes, sir."

They made their way from the driveway to the front door, and Dean was happy to see that it had been shoveled free of the snow. At least his shoes wouldn't be ruined. John knocked on the door, and they waited for a few minutes before someone finally answered. Dean smiled when the door finally opened. It was really more of a smirk, since he never actually smiled anymore, but it was there. The person at the door was a girl a bit younger than him, if her face was anything to go by. She was almost as tall as he was, with legs that – he assumed – went on for miles. They were covered by a long flowy skirt, though, so he couldn't really be sure. She must have been the one he saw in the window earlier, because her curly hair was flying in every direction.

"Hello," she said with a pleasant smile.

"Hi, I'm John and this is my son Dean. We're looking for Kelly," he said.

Dean didn't know what to say, so he just smiled and nodded once. She returned his smile and said; "Come on in. I'll go get her for you. I'm Aubrey, by the way."

They both stepped over the threshold and into the foyer area, and waited while Aubrey left to get her mother. Dean stayed next to his dad, but that didn't stop him from looking around. The house was pretty big, but the decorations didn't scream rich family to him. The furniture and other decorations were kitschy, and looked as though they had been collected throughout the owner's lifetime. There were some old pieces, and there were definitely a lot more occult objects than he had expected. This didn't seem like a psychic's home, nor did it seem to belong to a witch. The girl they had just met didn't fit the bill for either one of those people.

Dean stopped his judgment of the house when he heard footsteps. He was hoping to see the pretty young girl again, but instead it was her mother. She was an attractive older woman, with only a few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. Her daughter looked a lot like her, aside from the height difference. He mother was a few inches shorter than she was. She smiled when she got to the bottom of the stairs, and wrapped John in a tight hug.

"John Winchester," she said, "how the hell are ya?"

"I'm good, Kelly," he replied.

"And this must be your son Dean," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Dean replied. He offered his hand for her to shake, but she wrapped him in a hug instead.

"Shall we?" she asked, gesturing towards the kitchen.

John nodded and gave Dean a look that said to follow him. The woman offered them coffee, which John declined for the both of them, and they took seats at a small white breakfast table. Kelly sat across from them, and gave them a look that was both curious and suspicious. To be honest, Dean was just as curious as she must have been, but he hid his emotions well.

"So, John," she began, "I suppose you didn't stop by to wish us a happy new year."

John shook his head. "No, I didn't. There have been a few developments in a case I'm working on. I could use your help," he said.

Hold the phone – this woman was a hunter? Why did she live here? How did she afford it? Dean tried his hardest to keep his expression neutral, but it wasn't easy. Was her daughter a hunter too? She didn't look like she could harm a fly.

"John, you know I don't hunt anymore," she said as her eyes flicked to the ceiling.

Well, there went his theory. Maybe her daughter had never hunted. Maybe she stopped before her daughter was born. Maybe she never dragged Aubrey into the hunting life like his dad did with him and Sammy.

"Kelly, I know that you don't hunt anymore, but this is important. I wouldn't ask if I didn't desperately need your help. Trust me – it's not a position I like being in," John replied.

Kelly sighed and seemed to think about it for a moment, before asking; "Why can't Dean help you with it?"

"It's your specialty, Kelly. I'm dealing with witches – nasty ones – and it's the same coven you dealt with the last time," he said.

At that memory, Dean noticed Kelly's eyes widen. "Can you be sure?" she asked. John only nodded, and she said; "Well, then he certainly can't go."

"What?" Dean asked. "Why not?"

John frowned at Dean, but he was getting annoyed at the fact that they were talking like he wasn't there. Kelly was patient, though, like most mothers are. "Dean," she began, "this coven of witches… they hate hunters. They will hurt anyone, but they especially love to attack hunters. They attack them by going after their first born child."

His dad was trying to protect him. Why start now, he thought bitterly. "Okay, so I can't go with dad. I'll just go find my own case," he said.

"No, son. You have to stay here," John replied.

Dean didn't question his father – especially not in front of others – but Kelly must've seen that he was confused. "This house is covered in charms and symbols. They protect anyone inside from the witches' magic. If we're going to confront them, this is the only place you'll be safe," she said.

"It's only for a week or so, son. It'll be over before you know it," John said. He always took the softer approach with Dean when he wanted to work him over.

Dean knew it was useless – he was going to give in. He just sighed and said; "Alright, fine."

Dean stood in the foyer next to his dad while Kelly carried a bag out to the car. Her daughter stood at the bottom of the steps, looking less than pleased with the situation. She kept glancing back-and-forth between John and Dean, and she was no longer the smiling girl he had seen earlier that day. If looks could kill, they'd be six feet under right now (which is totally unfair to Dean, because he totally had nothing to do with it). Kelly came back inside to say goodbye to Aubrey.

"Aubrey, please be nice, understand?" she asked. Aubrey just rolled her eyes, petulantly, so Kelly walked over to her. Aubrey was taller, but she still withered under the authority of her mother. Kelly took hold of her chin and made Aubrey look at her. "I said: Do you understand?"

Aubrey sighed, and said; "Yes, ma'am."

Kelly released her chin and wrapped Aubrey in a hug. "Thank you," she said.

Aubrey managed to give her mother a small smile, and they kissed each other's cheeks before Kelly and John both left the house. Dean was alone with Aubrey, and to say it was awkward would be an understatement. Some of her previous anger seemed to have withered when his dad left the house. He wished he could say the same for his own. They stood there until the two cars were gone from the driveway, and that's when Aubrey finally addressed Dean.

"So, I should probably show you to the guest room," she said.

Dean raised an eyebrow. He got his own room? Okay, maybe this wouldn't be too awful. He could look at this as the week-long vacation he so desperately needed. He was staying in a nice house, which seemed to have food. He would be warm and sheltered, and he would be in the company of a very pretty young lady. He's been in much worse situations before. He followed Aubrey up the stairs to the second floor, and she stopped at the third door on the right.

"Well, here it is," she said, walking in. "Just so you know: my room is right next to yours if you need anything. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway, and if you wake up in the middle of the night, try to leave the hallway light on."

"Scared of the dark?" he asked with a smirk.

She didn't become defensive like he thought she would. She simply looked at him and said; "Yes. I always have been."

After that, she walked out of the room and into her own. He shook his head and looked around. It was a pretty nice room. He'd never had anything like this – not since he was four. It just wasn't fair to compare this to a motel room. The bed looked much more comfortable, and he indeed sunk down to the middle when he sat on it. There was a nice, working heater underneath the window. He was happy for that, because the last motel didn't have one. He almost froze to death in the January snowstorms. Now, it looks like he would at least be warm and fed for a week.

Who could want anything more than that?

I hope you enjoyed this! :)