Okay guys! I had this really weird idea for a long time, and I thought it was time to share. So… here you go. I hope you enjoy it!

"Sam, stop being such a girl and get out of the bathroom already!" Dean shouted. "You can fix your princess hair later!"

Dean couldn't hide his excitement for this case. He hasn't encountered any evil faeries since the unfortunate incident in Elwood, Indiana. He always imagined faeries as kind, magical creatures that do not exist. Then it hit him. Literally, one of those tiny, naked bitches hit him. Since then, he attempted to avoid cases involving anything related to faeries. Until this day. Sam found an article in the newspaper about an old lady claiming to be terrorized by vicious sprites. If Dean protested and refused to solve this case, Sam would mock him till the end of the days. One thing that Dean couldn't stand was definitely being ridiculed by his little brother. Or anyone, for that matter. Now he was going to prove to Sam that nothing makes him uncomfortable, not even a little, glowing, hot, naked lady with nipples. To be quite honest, he couldn't wait to deal with those again.

Sam stared in the mirror, ignoring the dark shadows under his tired eyes. He did not know what to think of the blood in the sink, the headache that pulsed in his head, or the nightmares that invaded his peaceful sleep every night. After Cas liberated him from the hell he has been through, he thought that the whole thing was over.

He smiled exhaustedly at the reflection in the mirror and splashed cold water on his face. He wanted to look okay for Dean's benefit. Dean and his overprotective nature guaranteed a mayhem if he found out about Sam's condition. Sam ran a hand through his hair and checked his reflection for the last time before he took a deep breath and left the bathroom.

"What took you so long, Princess?" Dean chuckled.

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's called hygiene, Dean. You should try it too some time."

Dean grimaced and slapped Sam's arm lightly. In reality, he noticed that Sam looked like hell. He just couldn't bring himself to mention it. If Sam wanted to tell him, he would have done so. The lack of trust between them bothered Dean a lot, but what could he do? Confronting Sam never worked. He would just say that "everything's fine" and then change the topic and let some abomination out of his mouth, like, "Cake is almost the same as pie, isn't it?" Dean just couldn't handle stress like that at the moment.

What he wished to talk about was Cas. He hasn't seen him since… Cas… almost killed him. Every day and every night, Dean replayed the memory in his head. The moment when he expected the final blow. That feeling in his chest that signaled that that was it. One of the few people left that he cared about would be the death of him. He remembered how Cas cupped his cheek and he didn't even fight. He accepted his death only because it was his Cas, that whiny baby he liked to keep around for some reason.

And then suddenly, the pain diminished. It was gone and so was Cas. He left him with nothing but confusion. For just the slightest second, he suspected that the whole thing was a dream and he would wake up at any given moment. He sat in the dark, tears blurring his vision, until there were no tears left and he had to move on.

"You're thinking about Cas, aren't you?" Sam sighed. This mindreading ability creeped Dean out sometimes.

"Nah, why would I?" Dean denied with a blank expression. "There ain't no reason for me to worry about him. He has his angel mojo to protect him from evil sons of bitches."

"Dean—" Sam reached for Dean's shoulder, but Dean's glare stopped him.

"Would you look at that? It's almost six o'clock, we should get going. And I want to grab some pie on our way. Preferably cherry pie, I just feel like stuffing myself with some cherries and beer today."

"Dean," Sam pleaded.

"Maybe pecan pie, that would be better," Dean mumbled to himself.

"Dean."

"What about apple pie? Is that too classic? Pumpkin pie would be a way to go, too, but I always thought that pumpkins are a little bit gay."

"Goddammit, Dean, so are you!"

Uncomfortable silence surrounded the room. Sam bit his lip and winced. The conversation that was bound to follow wouldn't please either of them. Sam examined Dean's ragged countenance and already regretted his words. Why would he even say that? Mental note: keep your snarky comments for yourself, you dumbass. He prepared himself for an inevitable argument. Nevertheless, no sharp words came out of Dean's mouth.

Dean shook his head. Sam's jokes in situations like this annoyed the living hell out of him. "Sam, just shut up. I'm not in the mood for this. Let's kick some sprite asses and maybe get some grateful chicks on the way. Dude, I can't remember the last time I slept with someone." Dean turned around and headed to the bathroom.

Sam only nodded and proceeded to pack the last of his belongings in the duffel bag. He sure as heck wouldn't accompany Dean on his girl-hunt. As cheesy as it may sound, his thoughts were still fixated on Amelia. He acknowledged that she was happy with her husband now. He knew that he should get over her. He accepted that he wasn't a part of her life anymore. His mind understood that. But his heart didn't. Constant flashbacks of their relationship exacerbated his current situation. Her smile, her hair, her jokes… all these little things flooded his mind and he couldn't do anything to get rid of them.

A soft knock interrupted Sam's train of thoughts. He grasped a dagger – just in case – and slowly opened the door. To his surprise, a short, teenage blonde with a purple suitcase stared up at him. Her familiar green eyes pierced through his skull as she carefully observed him. Golden waves cascaded down her back and the corners of her mouth turned upside.

"Are you Dean Winchester?" she scanned him once again, making him slightly uncomfortable. "Gosh, you must be like nine feet tall."

"Um, six four, actually," Sam responded defensively. "And I'm not Dean. You need something?"

"Yeah, I obviously need to talk to Dean," she replied in a "duh" tone, "so if you don't mind…" She pushed him aside and entered the motel room.

"Wait!" Sam tried to stop her, but she was already adjusting herself on the couch.

"So, where is he?" the little blonde raised her eyebrows.

"Look, just spill what you need," Sam urged her to leave. "You shouldn't be here."

Something about her attitude rang a bell, but Sam couldn't put a finger on it. He would have sworn that he saw this girl before, which was the only reason he didn't kick her out yet.

She placed her feet on the coffee table and scoffed. "Oh, god, you must be Sam then. Nice to meet you."

Sam opened his mouth to repeat his question. Before he could do so, Dean appeared in the room, wearing only a towel around his waist. He didn't spot the girl invading their motel room. Softly humming Can't Find My Way Home by Blind Fate, he grabbed a clean shirt, jeans, and underwear, making his way back to the bathroom. He even moved his head to the rhythm.

The blondie coughed to catch his attention.

"You cough like a girl, Sammy," Dean remarked and glanced at Sam.

Sam's eyes grew big and he cocked his head toward the teenager who just practically broke into their room.

Dean squirted his eyes. "Isn't this one a little too young for you, man?"

"I'm not a pedophile!" Sam shouted as the girl burst out laughing. "She's like twelve!"

The smile on the blonde's lips froze. "I'm fifteen, you asshole."

It was Dean's turn to smirk. "So, what's the deal?"

"I'd prefer to talk to you when you're dressed, thank you very much."

XXX

"So…" Dean began awkwardly. He had no idea who this girl was. Back then in his high school years, he might have had a crush on her. She was pretty in the traditional way, cat eyes and light hair, much like him. He noticed a familiar pendant around her neck; however, he didn't give it much importance.

"My name is Lilly," she offered as a beginning of the conversation.

"Um, nice to meet you, Lilly?" Dean spoke slowly. "I'm Dean and this is—"

"I know exactly who you are, that's why I'm here."

The determination in her voice made him shut up. Something about the way she looked at him indicated how serious the situation was.

"My mother died."

"Ah, well—" Dean struggled to respond. "I'm sorry to hear that—"

"Shut up, that's not it," Lilly rudely interrupted him. "She was murdered. By hellhounds."

Even Sam who was only silently listening up to now jumped. This was no regular girl. Sam considered the possibility that she was a daughter of a hunter. Maybe she found herself in a situation similar to Krissy's and she came to ask for help. Why did she reject Sam's help, then? Why did she specifically ask for Dean?

"How do you know…?" Dean whispered.

She chuckled. "I'm not an idiot. Ten years ago, I was dying of cancer and then one miraculous day, poof! The cancer was gone. Fairytale ending, right? Well, exactly after ten years, which was a week ago, my mother got killed by some animal. But it wasn't just any animal. Something invisible literally ripped her apart. I saw it with my own eyes. I saw how scared she looked, told me to go away. I saw how she screamed that 'they' are coming. I saw everything. I did my research... She made a deal."

Dean was speechless. This girl, Lilly, a fifteen year old girl, figured it out on her own. That secret that they hide from humanity as much as possible.

"How did you find us?" was the best Dean could come up with.

"Garth. He planted GPS on you, you should be more careful about that."

Sam sat down next to Lilly. "Look, I know that it must be terrible to see your own mother dying, but there's nothing that can be done about it. She made a deal and hellhounds came to collect their dues. It's too late to save her. I'm sorry."

"That's not why I'm here," she shook her head. "My mother was Amanda Heckerling."

Dean's heartbeat stopped. Did she mean THE Amanda? The gorgeous girl he dated in high school? He never forgot about her and how much he hurt her. They were getting so close... He really liked her. Relationships were always inconvenient for Dean, though. He pushed away everyone who got too close. What was the point anyway? He would move soon and they would both end up heartbroken.

"That's really sad," Sam nodded. "I remember her – a nice girl. Either way, we still can't help you."

"You don't get it!" Lilly cried out and peeked at Dean. "You understand what this means, right? And you know that mom was no whore…"

"I don't—" Sam began to question again.

"When is your birthday, Lilly?" Dean blurted out.

"August 11th, 1998."

"Sam, when did we attend Truman High School?"

"November '97, why?" Sam tilted his head to the side. "Wait— oh."

Dean gulped. "Yeah, oh."

Lilly smiled sheepishly. "Hi, Dad."

Yay or nay? Any thoughts? Your reviews would help quite a lot just so I'd know if I should continue this! I'm planning for Cas to get involved, so this might get really interesting. Let me know if you like it or if it totally sucks. Thanks!