Chapter Two;

Dean smirked to his brother as they neared the local police department, scuffing his shoe against the sidewalk. "So what are we supposed to look into first in this crazy town of accidents?" Dean scoffed sarcastically. "Please, oh wise one, show me the way," He joked as he clasped his hands palm to palm and gave a brief bow. Sam smirked, his own scoff escaping him, before he turned to his brother. "Can you be serious for a day?" He questioned his elder brother, tossing his hands in slightest of aggravation.

Sam turned back and began to head towards the door as soon as he noted Dean was offering a thoughtful expression. Sarcasm would soon follow, he knew it. "The earliest incident occurred to a 'Brianna Greer', two months ago. Before that, no series of incidents, no accidents, not even so much as a local fire for years." Sam explained to his brother as he led the way inside and reached into his suit pants pocket to pull out a small wire bound notebook. Dean peered over Sam's shoulder invasively close to glimpse at the pages Sam flipped to.

"Brianna was an elementary school teacher that had never even broken a bone and then managed to fall down not one, not two, but three flights of stairs. Just kept rolling..." Sam trailed off in amusement at the odd luck of the now deceased teacher. Dean responded with a confused expression glancing his features. "Ya sure she wasn't pushed? Could be looking at a vengeful spirit here," He offered with a shrug, dismissing it as simple. Sam responded with a resigned shrug of his own. "Security cameras caught her falling; no glare, no shadow, no glimpse. Not any that was reported at least so even if there was, nothing really substantial enough to be noticed." He answered his brother. Dean frowned as he went to follow his brother into the station.

Dean frowned as he glanced around the library, failing to find the girl he sought out day after day. He turned to Gertrude, seeking her help only to find the woman frowning from behind the desk whilst she fumbled through books. As he approached he could almost sense the anger rolling off the woman in waves, the elder woman not usually so unkind and unwelcoming.

"Hey, have you seen Kermit anywhere?" Dean questioned, knowing the nickname had reached Gertrude's ears. She had never mentioned it being unkind so he took it as her opinion of it was okay. Gertrude pursed her lips, the wrinkles winking at him and surrounding red lipstick. She didn't even bother to look up at him or smile in greeting as she usually did. "She is in the back row, placing some books away. She should be in the historical section." The elder woman responded without a glance in his direction. Dean offered a quick smile in thanks before rushing off, wondering if Keragrine knew what was bothering Gertrude so much today. It shouldn't have bothered him but on his month stay so far, the woman had been nothing but kind to the boy.

Dean dodged around the weaving, cluttered shelves and sought out the back row. He knew he probably wasn't in the historical society but when spending time with Kermit he would tend to follow her as she put books away and seemed to have a few ideas of how the shelves we're connected. He frowned as he sought out the mane of gold and white curls, seeking his only friend. When he had finally discovered the wild mane it was accompanied by baggy blue jeans, spattered with holes and burn marks, and a yellow hoodie that had two elbows covered in grass and dirt stains. This wasn't unusual for her to have such well worn clothes and he had wondered, had even asked but had never truly gotten an answer. He couldn't see Kermit's face but he knew it was her, knew that it would be her blank yet piercing stare around the hedge of curls.

Grinning, Dean approached, looking to greet her quietly however managed to get a few steps in before he tipped forward after having nudged a few books in a stack he hadn't noticed. He should have known better seeing as this was what she always did. She would build towers of literature and deconstruct them along her way. Hearing the noise from the stack falling, Keragrine turned her face in his direction and almost seemed to see him for once. The appearance shocked Dean, causing his lips to part slightly in shock and having to blink a few times to gain his composure.

Kermit was not healthy. Though she had always been pale, she seemed downright pallid today with her skin sheet white and her veins almost fully visible on her hands and wrists. Deep violet circles shadowed her eyes and if he hadn't seen how sallow her cheeks and the welts were he would mistake them for fresh bruises. Whereas she had always been thin, she had become skeletal at this point, her bones sharp behind her flesh and knobby at the wrists and elbows.

Without thinking Dean reached forward and gripped her face between both hands, her own lips parting in shock and her eyes widening at the touch. He turned her face this way and that, his brow knotted in confusion. He had noticed her getting thinner and hadn't appeared to get much sleep but had he really been so ignorant to how bad she had become. He cleared this throat lightly to gain moisture in his dry mouth but maintained an assertive tone to inform her of his worry.

"What happened?" Turn. "Why haven't you been eating?" Turn. "Why haven't you been sleeping?" Turn. With each question he inspected her face from a new angle. Kermit frowned having gain composure from her shock and tilted her head within his hands to offer a blank look. "You don't need to worry, I'm fine." She responded, her breezy voice almost calming him. It could calm anyone. Dean frowned and ignored that that was most likely the most she had said in a sentence. Ever.

"You're not fine. Are your parents not feeding you? Are they not letting you sleep?" Dean harassed yet again. Kermit frowned deeper now. "They are. I am eating, I am sleeping." She responded calmly. Dean shot an accusatory glare at the girl. "Then why are you so tired and so thin?" He accused. Her frown softened, noting his concern. "Because I am." She offered and reached up to pry his hands from her face. Dean didn't resist, concerned he'd hurt her if she pulled too hard. Her fingers were like straws with knobs for joints.

She was not okay.

It could be a ghost but that wouldn't explain why she was all over town. The most likely cause of the incidents seemed almost obvious as witch attacks. However Keragrine had no way of knowing who would want to attack these seemingly random incidents.

Frowning Keragrine peered into her rearview mirror to run her fingers through her curls and to reapply one more layer of deep red lipstick to her full lips. She had not seen Dean Winchester in over a decade and she was sure he wouldn't recognize her so she would have to be social. Just this once.

She was not eager as she slammed her car door shut behind her and adjusted the thin grey v neck sweater that pulled at her full breasts and her light wash jeans that hugged at every inch of her body in a tasteful reaction. Her hair wasn't the same as he had seen it last, not so unruly and unmanageable anymore. Now it was tamed into waves and curls that bound endlessly down her back.

She had to admit she was excited, even if only a little. She never felt much so this excitement was good for her to feel, something to seek and enjoy. Reaching the wooden motel door beneath the dim light, Keragrine glanced briefly at the black Impala in the parking spot before the door. She wondered how much he had really changed from when they last spoke.

Briefly releasing a sigh to calm her nerves, what little there were, she reached up and rapped her knuckles against the wooden door. She waited a moment before the door cracked open, revealing the taller of the pair. This was the man she did not know. She did not like that.

Curiously Keragrine was unaware of what she should do in this situation so for a moment she thought of what normal people would do when first meeting someone. So without a word or an expression, she jutted a hand forward, reaching for him to shake his hand. With narrowed eyes the man stared in confusion before clearing his throat.

"Look, miss, I don't know who you are so can I help you?" The man questioned curiously. She would have to talk. Keragrine released another sigh before clearing her throat. She had spoken to strangers before. Just...not much.

For a moment, Keragrine was lost for words so she attempted several starts by opening then quickly shutting her mouth. She appeared a fish out of water for several agonizing moments before she finally reached her one conclusion.

"Dean."

She heard the clatter of metal against wood, heavy against thick upon hearing her voice. It took several moments of the man starting behind him in confusion before she heard a throat clearing. "Uh, let her in, Sammy," She heard a deep voice almost rumble the words out. The man at the door glanced between his partner behind him to the woman at his door before she heard the click of a gun safety echo and he opened the door further to let her in.

Dean was standing in the center of the room, having moved from his previous position at the bed where he had obviously been cleaning his weapons. He was lost for words before he released one.

"Kermit..."