A/N: This was a story I wrote for my creative writing class a year ago. I plan on making a full fic of it eventually. For now it's going to remain a one-shot.

It takes place around Halloween, during Season 3 of both Supernatural and Castle.

Ghosts

"Hello?" A brown haired man in his thirties waved his free hand in front of the camcorder in the other. "Test, one, two, three?"

"You're good, Jack."

"I'm here at the McClaren Mansion. This place has had lots of grizzly deaths over the years and there have been dozens of eyewitness accounts of apparitions roaming the halls."

"You think this place is all it's cracked up to be?" His partner's voice spoke into his earpiece.

"That's what I'm going to find out." He swept the camera around the room. First things first, he would explore the first floor. The mansion was only a mansion in height. Several floors were stacked upon each other. They hadn't had the space to do otherwise in the center of New York. Most of the rooms were dusty guest rooms. Old warn furniture had been covered with cloth and sheets long ago. He vaguely wondered what it was worth. That wasn't the reason they were here, however. They were here for the truth.

He stepped out of the main hallway. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the lady standing before him. She was pale as the moon and wore a light colored gown. "Hello? Can I help you?" She turned and that's when he saw half of her face had been torn off. "Jesus!" He fell back and let out a grunt. "I'll call you an ambulance! Stay there!" His voice rose into a panic.

"What's wrong?"

"There's an injured woman in here!"

"That's impossible!"

You're telling me.

She followed him across the room screaming. "Stay away from my little girl!"

She was obviously in shock. That or on some serious drugs. Maybe she was hallucinating. "It's going to be okay. We'll get you some help."

Her only reply was to make a knife seemingly appear out of some darkened void. He ran for the door and she followed her eyes glowing like the fires of hell. He slammed into the door. Shit, he had forgotten he locked himself in.

"Jack? Jack? What's going on?"

"This lady is crazy!" He fumbled for his keys. "GET ME OUT!" He screeched into his headset.

Blood splattered across the doorway in a gore display that would make any horror fan proud.

"A murder in the McClaren Mansion? Do you think it was a ghost or a demon that did it?" Beckett's partner was giddy with anticipation for their next case. He was like an untrained puppy when it came to cases that had anything to do with the supernatural.

"I think our killer is human, Castle." Beckett rolled her eyes as she walked into the crime scene. The house was old- probably built in the 1800's sometimes. The paint on the wall had faded to a dull gray and there was a layer of grime on the floor. Dust floated in the air like snowflakes and coated everything like newly fallen snow, as well. The furniture seemed to consist of mahogany and cherry wood, but even that sheen had faded with time.

"Did you see that? There was a Ghost Wrangler's van outside. It has to be a ghost. Why else would they be here?"

"Because the victim was the star of the show," A dark skinned women with even darker hair explained.

"What do we have, Lanie?"

"The victim is Jack Sinclair. His throat was slit from ear to ear. Jugular, superior thyroid, common carotid left and right. All of them were severed."

"He was team leader of this program. I loved their show," Castle had a hint of sadness in his voice.

Beckett leaned down near the body and tilted her head to get a close look at his throat. There was a black substance leaking out of it. "What's this?"

"I'm not sure. I won't know until I get back to the lab."

"You two really don't know what that is?" Castle asked.

"No… Why?" Beckett raised an eyebrow her voice filled with skepticism. "Do you?"

"It's ectoplasm. Ghost goo."

"Uh huh. Sure it is."

"The depth of the wound tells me the killer got close," Lanie explained.

"Yet there are no footprints."

"Not only that, but considering the arteries he cut, there should have been some blood on our killer."

"There's no break in the splatter."

"It's almost like the blood went right through the killer," Castle feigned a shocked look.

Beckett just shot him a look that said 'stop with the nonsense'. "Let's go talk to some of the witnesses." The pair walked over to a large black van with the words 'Ghost Wrangler' on the side in large white font. There was a picture of an abandon suburban home behind said font.

The back of the van was open and Castle took this as an invitation to hop right in. He leaned over the shoulder of a blonde fiddling with a device that had dozens of wires coming out of it, hooked up to one of four televisions. "This is so cool."

"You're not allowed to be back here." The female scolded.

Beckett held up her badge. "I'm homicide. We're here to ask you some questions about Jack Sinclair."

"I've known Jack since the beginning of his career. I'm the one who got him on the map. I produced it, fought for it to get off the ground. Well, we all did that, I suppose."

"What time did Jack go into the McClaren Mansion?" Beckett asked.

"Around 7. Then he commenced Lockdown-"

"That's where he locks himself into the building. It's a common practice in the ghost hunting world." There was air of smugness in Castle's voice.

"Were the camera's rolling the whole time?"

"Yeah."

"Well need to take a look at that footage."

"Sure. Whatever you need."

"Does anyone else have key's to the place?"

"Barry, does, but he's off the team."

"Off the team? What happened?"

"Well Jack and he got into an argument some time ago. He tried to convince Jack to leave well enough alone, but Jack said he wasn't going to quick being a ghost hunter."

"This was supposed to be a simple job, Sammy!" The Winchester brothers had decided to stop by the McClaren Mansion to see if they could spot the ghost that the rumors had led them to believe were lurking there. They found more than a ghost. They found a ghost hunter who had bit off more than he could chew. His name was Jack Sinclair and he was one of the annoying armatures who thought they could actually handle a ghost. They went into these spooky places with a video camera looking for appreciations. They usually got more than they bargained for and ended up deader than a red shirt in Star Trek. Despite the fact that Dean and his brother were experienced in the area of fighting things from beyond the grave- it was the family business after all- they still hadn't been able to save this particular ghost hunter.

"I know, Dean. You know how quickly things can change on a hunt."

"I should have never have left you. We should have stuck together."

"That mansion is huge. We would have never found what the apparition was drawn to if we hadn't."

"A lot of good that did us. We still don't know why Casper is sticking around."

"Well find it. I've done some more research in the meantime. Now we know there were eight killings in that house. Robert Pettigrew in 1908, Melanie Benton in 1955, and John Egbert in 1909. I looked at the video footage-" Sam held up one of the cameras they had taken from the mansion. After Jack had been murdered both the Winchesters bolted and had taken all the cameras in the dining room with them. There was a possibility that they could find some clue they missed if they went back over the tapes. "-again and compared the ghost on camera with some of the other people who died in the house. Get this, it's Melanie Benton."

"Great. Was she buried?"

"Cremated. Her spirit must still be attached to something."

"Any idea what?"

Sam shook his head. "I guess we'll have to go back into the mansion and have a look around."

"The police are searching that place by now."

"Looks like it's time to break out the FBI suits."

Sam had dug up Melanie's family tree and it turned out she had family that lived in New York. Melanie had two other sisters. One had inherited the mansion for a short while, but quickly had sold it after. She never explained why. That sister had three kids and they were going to see the youngest, May. Dean knocked on the door to the apartment. A man balding man in his 50's opened the door. His face was wrinkled like a pug's.

Sam and Dean flashed their FBI badges. "I'm Agent Cobra and this is my partner Agent Wright. We're here to talk to May. Is she home?"

"Yes." The man left the door open a crack. "May! The FBI is here to ask you a few questions."

The Winchesters followed the man to the living room where they stood across the couple from the couch.

"What's this about?" May asked.

"We just need to ask you a few questions about your grandmother."

"They caught the guy who did it. My grandfather killed her and one of my aunts."

"These are just some follow up questions."

"Alright…"

"Now did your grandmother mention any strange occurrences at the mansion?"

"Maybe flickering lights or strange noises?"

"Sometimes we would hear noises when we were over there, but by that time the place was pretty old. Everything creaked, especially when it was windy. Sometimes mom would complain about the wiring in the place. I'm assuming that's because she might have had the lights flicker while she was over there. When my uncle confessed to the murder he did tell the police that a demon did it."

Sam's eyebrows raised and his eyes showed interested while Dean narrowed his eyes. Both brothers threw each other a glance as if to confirm the notion that they should pursue this matter. "Is your uncle still alive?"

"No. He committed suicide in jail. He couldn't handle the guilt of what he had done."

"Did you know if Melanie kept anything valuable in the house?"

"I'm sure she did. What's this about?"

"There was another murder there last night. We're trying to find a motive."

"That's awful."

"We think that maybe Melanie or one of the other owners might have left something really valuable there that might have been a cause of this."

"I don't know of anything like this. I'm sorry I can't be more help."

"Maybe we should talk to some of the people at the jail if demons are involved in this," Sam suggests as they left the apartment.

"There wasn't a trace of sulfur in the mansion, though. There's definitely a ghost haunting the place."

"Maybe one of the demons summoned it as a distraction. They could be planning something."

"Yeah. A quicker route on the highway to hell."

The truth was that Sam thought that's exactly what the demons were doing. He was still trying to find a way to save his brother from an eternity of fire and brimstone. The black eyed creatures were probably trying to distract from his true mission with jobs like this. "You can't be seriously about not fighting this thing!"

"You're alive and that's the only thing that matters."

He didn't want to live his life without his older brother. He didn't need to be fighting beside him, he just wanted him around. He wanted them to settle down someday and they could hold barbeques in the summer and hang out and drink beer. Dean may not care about what happened to him, but Sam did.

Beckett had taken a seat in front of Barry. "Running from the police was not the smartest idea."

"You had to have known they were going to catch you." Castle had taken a seat beside his partner. "You could even say…"

"Please don't."

"You didn't have a ghost of a chance."

Beckett shot the cocoa haired writer a look that silenced him while Barry just started at the pair with wide eyes and a slight frown that said he thought Castle was crazy. "What's this about?"

"Jack Sinclair is dead. But you already knew that didn't you?"

"What? No!"

"Then why'd you run from the police?"

"Let me guess?" Castle asked and leaned forward with a smirk. "Practicing for a marathon?"

"I have a record, so yeah, I ran from the police," the suspect crossed his arms. "Jack was my friend. I would never kill him!"

"You've had lots of offers to join other ghost hunters. I think that you were eliminating the competition." The detective had gotten this fact courtesy of one of her peers.

"No! I rejected all those offers. I told them I didn't want anything to do with them!"

"Your manager said you argued before you left the team."

"We did, but that's because I was concerned for his safety. I told him that we shouldn't be messing with this stuff…"

Castle hung on his every word. "You mean the Supernatural? Have you had an experience like this before?"

Barry looked away from the duo.

"You never gave your key back."

"I just forgot to! That doesn't mean I killed the guy!"

All they could do was hold him for twenty four hours until they found proof that he was the killer. Beckett let out a sigh. She was going over the case again from her desk; Castle was sitting beside her. "There's something he's not telling us."

"His experience with the supernatural."

"Castle-"

"I'm serious. Something had to have happened to spook him into leaving the team. If we can figure out what it is, we'll be that much closer to solving this case."

Another member of the police force named Ryan approached the detective. His hair was dark brown and it was spiked at the front. He had midnight blue eyes and he wore a suit.

"Hey, Ryan," Castle greeted.

"Hey. CSU found a partial print at the scene." He set the open file down on her desk. "Sam Winchester." The man in the photo was in his early 20's and had a sharp jaw-line that became smooth at his chin. His hair was the color of cocoa and his eyes were the color of bronze.

"Dean Winchester." There was a picture of a man in his late 20's. He had hair the color of cocoa and a short hair style that made it look as if he had just rolled out bed and ran with it. He had rounded, strong jaw-line and forest green eyes. "A record of fraud runs in the family. He also has another charge for assault."

Castle laughed when he saw Dean's mugshot. "Is he doing a blue steel?"

"An assault charge." That sounded promising. Beckett prayed this was the guy, so she wouldn't have to listen Castle bather on about ghosts. "I told you, Castle."

"Yes, but Lanie told us that the black substance was 'unlike anything she had ever seen'. That's an exact quote by the way."

"Well when we catch this Winchester we'll just have to ask him what it is," Beckett said matter-of-fact.

"FBI. We're here to ask you some questions about Jack Sinclair."

"I already told the police everything I knew." The manager said.

"We're just following up."

"I never thought Barry would be right about this. I never thought this sort of thing would happen to him."

"What was Barry right about?" Sam asked.

"He told Jack that he shouldn't be messing around with the spiritual realm, but Jack didn't seeing it as messing. He just wanted to know the truth. And now he's dead." The blonde haired female had tears in her eyes.

"Has something like this happened before?"

She was silent. "The police thought we were crazy. They thought drugs might have been involved."

"We've seen our share of the weird in our time on the job. Have you had an encounter with spirits before?"

"…You guys aren't regular FBI, are you?"

"You could say we're a special unit. Like Scully and Mulder," Dean told the girl.

"Well… We were checking out a house down in Texas one night. It was a routine thing. Rumors of haunting, people seeing apparitions. We set up the EMF and cameras. Barry ended up flying right through a window. That spooked him pretty badly. He left the crew shortly after that."

The two Winchesters arrived at the crime scene in dark grey suits. They walked up to a caramel skinned police officer and his lighter skinned partner and flashed their badges. "FBI. I'm Agent Cobra and this is my partner Agent Wright."

The darker skinned man raised any eyebrow. "We got a warrant for your arrest last night."

Dean and Sam spared a glance at each other. "There must be some mistake."

"No mistake," The officer mentioned.

"Oh… Son of a bitch," Dean said under his breath.

The two were soon placed in the holding cell of the police station. Sam was the first one to go into the interrogation room. This wasn't their first rodeo, however. They had plenty of run-ins with the cops in their time as hunters. Both brothers knew how to handle authority figures.

Dean found himself in the box next. He found himself face to face with a pretty officer of the law. She had straight brown hair that flowed from her head like a chocolate waterfall. She wore only enough make up to bring out her features. Her figured said that she did additional combat training when she wasn't chasing down bad guys, in heels no less. She had to be some kind of supernatural being to be able to run in those.

Too bad she was taken. She was definitely Dean's type. There was a guy next to them that had broad shoulders and was wearing a suit. His hair was shiny and well taken care off- no split ends. It also folded over one side like a wave and he was clean shaven. Ruggedly handsome could be another word for his strong jawline. The cop's partner glowed at him when he eyed her up and down. Oh yeah, these two were definitely banging.

"We found your prints at the crime scene."

"It… was just a stupid joke. My brother and I heard the place was haunted, so we decided to check it out."

"You found a body, but didn't think to call the police?"

"We were scared. We didn't want to be involved!"

"It's seems a little later for that," Castle chimed in.

Beckett slammed a folder down on the table. "This is the record for you and your brother. This is why you didn't call the police. You knew we would suspect you with a record like this."

"Okay, okay. Yeah. We have a record, but we would never kill someone!" Well not unless they were less than human. Dean thought.

"We found the camera in the hotel room. It seems like you were trying to get rid of evidence."

"We only took the camera because we thought they might be worth something. You saw the hotel we were staying at. We really needed the money…" Dean pretended to look crestfallen at that last line. It wasn't as if that part was a lie. They really did need the money.

"Where are the real tapes?"

Dean knit his brown in confusion. "What? Those are the real tapes."

"They can't be. There's no way."

"…Wait. You've seen the same thing when you looked at those tapes."

"Seen. Still working on believing," Castle mentioned. "So if you saw it, too… That must mean-"

"Someone messed with the camera or the tapes," Beckett interrupted.

"Well, whoever it was, it wasn't either of us."

The dark haired writer followed Beckett into the mansion. They had hit a dead end in the case and the curled haired detective decided to check out the crime scene once again. Sometimes going over the case once more enabled you to catch things you missed the first time. "Maybe we should have gotten something that will actually protect us against ghosts."

"My gun is protection enough."

"Yeah, but won't the bullets go through the ghost?"

"We'll be fine, Castle," Beckett told the writer, agitation in her voice. "I did some research on the other victims."

"Did you find anything?" She cut the blue eyed writer off before he could speak. "Natural things. Not supernatural."

"Then… No."

Beckett was kneeling by a chalk line on the floor, but Castle's attention was drawn to a room upstairs. The door was open a crack and the lights flickered for a moment. "Did you see that? The lights just flickered in that room."

"It's probably faulty wiring. This place is at least a hundred years old."

While the female detective was busy taking her second look at the crime scene, Castle decided to check out the room with the flickering lights. As Castle opened the door, the lights flickered on. "Well that's not creepy." It was completely normal for lights to turn on by themselves. They were on a timer or motion sensor. At least, that's what Beckett would say. The room appeared to be a nursery. The room was untouched by time. There wasn't a speck of dust and the crib and changing table were brand new. Not a brick was out of place on the fireplace, unlike some of the others which had fallen into disarray.

"Did I go back in time?" That could explain the mysterious disappearance of the child. She could have gone back in time and grown up to be one of the other owners of the mansion. Yeah. That sounds like a good story. She wanted to find the ghost of her mother and lay her to rest. I wouldn't mind writing a story about the supernatural. He had been writing murder mysterious since the beginning of his writing career. A change of scenery would be nice.

A transparent figure flickered to life and started to coo over and invisible figure in the crib.

Not the change of scenery I had in mind. Castle stood, frozen in the doorway. He wanted to reach out to the women, to help her, but he didn't want to risk ending up like Jack if this ecto-apparition was the one who killed him. "Uh… Hello?"

"Stay… away… from. My. CHILD!" The women screeched as she flew at Castle.

"BECKETT!" Castle bumped into the railing and started to scoot quickly back towards the stairs. He dove for the escape route as soon as she raced after him. "I could use some help!"

Beckett's expression of anger turned to bewilderment as she saw what was chasing after her partner. It had to be someone in a costume. She raised her gun. "Stop or I will shoot you."

The figure raised her hand and the hazel eyed detective fired off two rounds. One went wide, but the other went right through the attacker's shoulder. That didn't slow it down and her attack hit Castle, and sent him tumbling down the stairs. She put her hand under his arm and helped him to his feet. "You get out of here. I'll hold her off." There had to be a trick to it. A project that made a hologram that distracted you while the real killer made their move.

She didn't have to tell Castle twice. He rushed around the corner and towards the exit.

"I'll find whoever is doing this and I will stop you!" The apparition came closer to her and Beckett looked for signs of weakness. She couldn't see where the projection was coming from or any sign that this was a costume. The sickly looking women pulled out a knife and Beckett backed away. That could be it. She was just sick. I know I shot her in the shoulder. Could there be a sickness that made her oblivious to pain or one that made her bleed less than normal humans. She made her away towards the exit as fast as she could. Maybe she could lose her attacker and meet back up with Castle and think up a new strategy.

"Duck!" was the first word she heard when she rounded the corner.

She obeyed, but not before yelling out a protest. "Castle, wait!"

The almond haired detective was too late. The blue eyed writer plunged a fire iron into the sick lady's midsection. It screamed and then… dissolved into thin air. That… was weird. There was no sickness that she knew of that had that effect on a person. It would take an elaborate special effects show to make that happen live. Unless… it wasn't a show.

"So, fire iron beats ghost. Who knew?" Castle was beaming.

"I can't believe we missed fingerprints," Sam mused. "I swore we wiped everything down." Dear old dad would be so disappointed if he could see us now. Sam scowled internally at the thought.

"She'd make a great hunter," Dean told Sammy once he was back in the cage.

"Are you saying that because she's tough or because you think she has a great pair of legs?"

"She's tough. She didn't cave in there. She went after the truth." She seemed to command respect and dominated her field. John wouldn't have trusted her, considering she was a cop. Dean thought she would have the demons running scared with a little training. They could use someone who had been in law-enforcement on their side. It would make avoiding situations like this a helluva lot easier. "Speak of the Devil," Dean mumbled when he saw said rattled homicide detective walk past the holding cell.

"Let's not…" Sam groaned.

"Hey. You look like you're seen a ghost," Dean smirked at his own joke.

Beckett stomped over to their cell. "You are going to tell me everything you know about what's going on in the McClaren Mansion," she commanded.

"What's in it for us?"

"I can get some of the charges on your record dropped."

"You can't clear our record?"

"I've seen your record and believe me, Beckett is good, but she's no miracle worker." Castle had approached the cage as well.

"Trust us, we want to catch the… uh… killer as bad as you do," Sam chimed in. "We were just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Yeah. Catch the real guy and we won't have a repeat of Shawshank Redemption," Dean snarked.

"Let us help. Tell us what you saw."

"It was obviously an ectoplasmic entity. Beckett can be a little stubborn when it comes to admitting there's not a reasonable explanation for everything."

"That's crazy. Ghosts do not exist!"

The Winchesters glanced at each other and then the shorter brother chuckled. "Whatever you say, sister."

Beckett let out an irked sigh. "Fine. Tell me what you know."

"Well when a spirit isn't laid to rest they can become malicious. They eventually go insane and start to attack anyone who intrudes in their territory," Sam explained.

"Yeah. That's the trick you're talking about," Dean added. "Getting rid of a ghost is hunter 101. We deal with this all the time. That thing is going to kill more people unless we stop it."

Beckett had a half frown on her face. She was torn. She didn't trust these two with their record, but she couldn't explain what she saw. What the Winchesters was spewing sounded crazy, but she couldn't find an explanation for it. She wasn't going to sit around letting this thing kill innocents. If that meant taking a chance and letting the two suspects help, then so be it. "Alright. But you're still suspects until you can prove what you're saying."

"Alright. We need the full story. Spare no detail."

Castle launched into an epic tale about how they explored the mansion. They barely had gotten away from the ghost when the writer landed the killing blow with a fire iron. The detective cut in with corrections.

"Don't ruin my story with your logic," Castle told her after what seemed like the twentieth interruption.

"It's a story about a ghost. There shouldn't be any logic in it," The brown haired detective deadpanned.

"Well we can help you with your ghost problem."

"It's not a ghost problem!"

"Stubborn isn't she?" Dean asked.

"You have no idea," Castle replied.

Beckett gave him a siring look that made him shut his mouth immediately.

"We can fix this problem at any rate."

"Is that a confession?" Beckett asked.

"No, it's not. I'm just saying my brother and I are good at taking out murders." It helped that Dean and Sam had been killing things since they were teens. John had taught them how to survive out there and unfortunately, it involved getting your hands stained. "This is your only option. You wouldn't be here if you had any leads."

Dean and Beckett seemed to have a stair-down that made the air around them crackle like a bonfire. The hazel eyed detective caved first. "Alright. What did you have in mind?"

"I'm not telling you until we get there."

"Dean…" Sam's voice was strained.

"My brother and I are going to come with you to this mansion and then we'll talk."

"Okay, but you'll be handcuffs until we get there."

"Fine by me."

Castle chatted with their suspects the whole drive. Vampires, werewolves, demons, anything supernatural was on the discussion board. It was ridiculous how her partner bought into the fantasy world these two had created. They were some seriously deranged people. What does that make me? There had always been a logical explanation for these things, but this time… She thought it might be an elaborate hoax that Castle has set up. They would arrive at the mansion and he would make sure she had a good scare, before telling her it was all a joke. It was that time of the year, after all. She was honestly surprised that he hadn't done anything like this sooner.

They stopped off at a convenient store for some salt and ten minutes later they were back at the McClaren Mansion.

"Is it just me or did the temperature just drop?" Castle rubbed his hands together.

"That's a telltale sign of ghost activity."

The hazel eyed female laughed. "Sorry. Still getting used to that."

"We'll need to find something that was precious to when she was alive. Usually we just salt and burn the body, but we think the body was cremated," Sam explained, as Castle threw a fire iron to his partner after grabbing on for himself.

Dean tossed the writer and the detective a bag of salt. "Make a circle and get inside it. Ghost can't cross salt lines."

"No. I'm not leaving you two alone."

"Yeah, splitting up seems like a bad idea." That was when the killing started in horror movies. Castle had seen enough horror movies in his life to know they were clearly in one.

"Alright. Fine. Just… Don't get in the way," Dean told them with agitation in his voice.

Beckett opened her mouth to argue as she followed Dean up the stairs. She felt Castle tug on her hand. "Just leave it."

"Are you taking their side?"

"No, but I'm your partner. I should probably stop you from shooting the suspects before the can confess, right?"

"Let's just go. Uh… you'll need to let go of my hand."

"Right. Sorry." Castle felt his face heat up like a pan on a stove. "The last place I saw the ghost was on the second floor nursery. It's the first door at the top of the stairs."

Dean stood ready as the door creaked open. The room was void of ghosts until Dean stepped over the threshold. The phantom appeared over the crib. "Don't touch my daughter." She turned and took out her weapon. "Don't. Touch. My. Daughter!"

Dean swung the fire iron as the ghost flew towards him, but she reappeared behind him. She threw him into the wall and he crashed down on the changing table. Beckett fired a shot and the ghost's attention was drawn to her. As the ghost made her way towards the brown eyed detective Sam was able to sneak up behind her and hit her with the fire iron.

"Are you alright?" Sam asked, as he helped his brother up.

"Yeah. That won't hold her off for long, though."

"What do you think she's connected to? The crib?" Castle asked.

"I sure hope so." Dean replied, as he swung his melee weapon upon it. It wasn't long before the crib was in pieces and burning in the fireplace downstairs.

"What now?"

"Well, if this didn't work we'll know soon enough."

It was about another five minutes before the poltergeist appeared behind Sam.

"Sammy, look out!"

Sam turned and the ghost thrust her knife into his shoulder. The long haired hunter swung his fire iron, but the ghost disappeared before he could get a hit in. Beckett took a swing at the ghost, but couldn't completely the attack in time. She was thrown up against the wall, but while the spirit of Barton was busy with that Dean struck her with his weapon.

"Where the hell would that item be?" It was going to be a pain in the ass to search this whole house. Dean wasn't about to leave his baby brother to face this alone, either.

"Her bedroom is the next obvious place."

"Yeah, but which room would that be?"

The group checked over two rooms and came up empty for any clues. "I don't suppose we should just start torching random things?" Dean suggested.

"Absolutely not," the chestnut haired detective replied.

"Get. Away. From. My DAUGHTER!"

"Looks like Samara's back." Dean swung at the apparition as she floated through the door. Sam was the first to walk out of the room, his eyes darting every which way in case the malicious spirit showed up again. Castle and Beckett followed. Dean was ready to walk out the door, but as soon as he stepped foot out, he was thrown back into the headboard of the bed. This ghost was getting to be more annoying than the daytime soaps that were on television.

"You guys should go on," Sam suggested as they searched yet another area.

"No way. Sammy, I'm not leaving you! You're injured!"

"It'll be easier to search the mansion if we split up. That spirit isn't going to stop attacking us until we find the object she's attached to. We can fight her all night."

"Well I'll stay with you," The spiky haired hunter offered.

"You can't. These two haven't dealt with the supernatural before."

"I'll stay."

"Beckett…"

"I'll be fine, Castle. I've chased down tons of bad guys. How hard could it be to fight off one ghost?" She couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth.

"You sure?" The older Winchester was hesitant to leave his brother so soon after Azazel's little game. He hadn't sold his soul to bring Sammy back just to have him die on a simple ghost hunt.

"I can handle myself, Dean."

Emerald eyed hunter nodded and swallowed a lump in his throat as he left.

"I wish there was some way were could listen in and see how the other two are doing," Castle mentioned after about ten minutes. "Wait… Listen in. That's it!"

"What? You have a way to listen in on them?"

"Laird's Lug. Literally 'Lord's Ear'. It refers to a hidden alcove above a dining hall of many Scottish castles. The host could use it to eavesdrop on his guests."

Dean stared blankly at the writer.

"Let me explain."

"No, no. I understand the concept of a hidden alcove. It's just… That sounds like something Sam would have said. He ends up learning stupid facts like that during his research. You might not make a bad of a hunter."

Castle was ecstatic at that compliment.

"Listen, you obviously live a very comfortable life. The life of a hunter is not comfortable. It's anything, but. You have to sew up your own wounds. You sleep in shady motels and eat at the cheapest joints. No one appreciates what you do. At best, you save a family and they say thanks."

"And at worst?"

"Trust me. You don't want to know." Dean took a deep breath. "My point is you may be a good hunter. But you should think long and hard before you choose this life. So what about this alcove? Do you think that maybe her item is up there?"

"Well… I think the phantom is a Barton. Her daughter was never found, right? Well what better place to hide a body than a secret alcove?"

"That's actually… pretty smart thinking." The hunter world would definitely benefit from having this guy cutting down demons and vamps.

The malicious ghost threw and attack at Sam and he was able to dodge it. He was pinned up against the wall in the next second, but the ghost turned at the last second. She slashed her knife and Beckett stumbled back. Her jacket was torn and there was a cut running up her arm.

The dark haired detective swung again, but the ghost threw her against the wall, causing her to drop her fire iron in the process. She had to reach her gun. She had loaded it with rock salt beforehand via the Winchester's instructions. The ghost slowly moved towards Sam. She reached for it. She almost had it. Her finger brushed the handle. A little more. Yes. She gripped the gun and fired of a shot that caused the ghost to dissolve.

Both of them breathed a sigh of relief. For a little while at least. That would give them a few minutes to recover. Both stood back to back, looking around the room.

"So ghost, huh?"

"Uh, yeah."

"You do this a lot?"

"Yeah. Not ghosts, just anything that puts humans on the menu."

"It must be a hard life. People give you a hard time about this."

"Yeah. I've had a hard time escaping this life since Mom died."

"That's one thing we have in common."

Sam gave her a curious glance, but didn't pry.

"She was killed by someone… or something. They never caught whatever it was. Her heart was ripped out of her chest. Her killer looked almost wolfish. I thought it was just trauma at the time. I made up something because I couldn't deal with them not being able to catch the guy."

"Well now you know." After a moment Sam said, "Werewolf. That's probably what it was. They usually go for the heart."

The hazel eyed homicide detective gave a little laugh. "I never thought I'd be having this conversation."

"I know what you mean. One day you're studying at Stanford, the next you're on the road hunting ghosts because Dad hasn't been home in a few days." Sam watched as the wraith appeared across the room and threw the female detective into the wall. Her gun skidded and landed under the bed. Sam went on the offensive and the ghost did the same. Beckett stuck her hand under the bed, reaching for her firearm. Sam was held up against the wall by the spirit's powers. The fire iron felt out of his hand. The malicious ghost hovered over Beckett with her knife. She reached for her melee weapon. Her finger tips brushed the item. She almost had it. The specter swung her knife in a downward arc. There was a scream and then… silence.

"I should be… about here. I don't suppose you have a ladder in on you?" Castle asked the brown eyed hunter as he pointed to a spot in the ceiling.

"It's going to take too long to find one. I guess I'll have to climb up on your shoulders."

"Your shoes are way too dirty for that. You know how much this suit cost?"

"You can't afford a dry cleaning on a suit?"

"This is a silk suit, imported from Italy."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You work in homicide and you wear those expensive suits? I hate to think what happened when you get blood on it."

"It's just… a really nice suit."

"Yeah, and I'm sure the detective and my brother will make a really nice corpse, if we don't hurry up and find the thing it's attached to!"

"Alright. Alright. Fine."

Once Dean could touch the rafters, he tapped on the boards, trying to find a hollow spot. "I think I found it!" He hit the ceiling board, but it wouldn't budge. He smacked it with the fire iron and dust rained down causing him to let out a series of coughs. He pulled himself up into the space and turned a flashlight on.

There was a loud creaking noise as a set of stairs slowly dissented from the ceiling. "That is so cool."

"How'd you end up with a lady like that?" Dean asked as they walked through a walkway in the attic. "You're obviously not a cop."

"I must be pretty good if you're only just figuring that out."

"I'm not. I'm just now asking."

"We'll she's my muse in my next serious of books. I'm following her for 'research'." Castle wore a self-satisfied smirk.

"Lucky." Dean kicked down a door. "This your alcove?"

There was a wardrobe in the corner and a table in the middle of the large room. "It looks like it. Hello? Is there a ghost in here?"

"Dude, why are you asking?"

"I'm drawing the ghost out so we don't get jumped."

Dean gave him a stare that said 'you're a moron.'

"…You've only been around Beckett for less than a day and already you have her stare down. Creepy."

"Just start looking for the body."

The two didn't get the chance as Dean let out a scream as a phantom sunk her claws into the hunter. Castle spun around to come face to face with the apparition of a little girl. She threw him into the wardrobe. Dean gripped his weapon as the undead girl went for a second attack. Castle let out a shrill scream as he found a body hand dropped onto him. The wraith's attention was drawn to the writer and that was the opening that Dean needed. The blow hit her and sent her to dissolve like dust in the wind.

Castle held up a locket. "This might be what we're looking for." The spiky haired male threw salt over the body of the child. That should keep the spirit at bay until they could torch her. The necklace went into a fire as soon as they were back on the ground floor. "That wound looks bad."

"I've had worse. Let's hope our partners have fared better."

The murderous apportion had disappeared a second before she could plunge her weapon into the detective's heart. The brown hair writer and hunter appeared in the doorway a moment later.

"You did it," Beckett stated the obvious.

"Yeah. We're just that awesome," Castle grinned.

"You did pretty well. For a beginner," Dean teased. "There's a body up there we have to burn."

"I'll take care of it. She deserves a proper cremation," Beckett commented.

Dean was glad the detective offered. He was happy to salt and burn her in a freshly dug grave outside town, but this seemed to be more appropriate. More human.

"If you have any more cases like this, we'd be happy to help." Sam shook Castle's hand.

"And I may be able to help you with any petty charges you get while hunting," Beckett offered. "Oh and thanks. For helping with this case. You really didn't have to stick your necks out for us."

"Yeah, well. It's what we do. It's the family business after all."