It didn't take long to find the local motel. The Wild Rose was what this one was called, named after Iowa's state flower. The turquoise neon sign lit up the parking lot as Dean pulled off the road. Free television and air conditioning were advertised. The elder Winchester parked in front of the office. "Hang tight, Sam. I'll be right back."

Five minutes later, Dean reappeared and tossed the key for room #12 to Sam. He started the car back up and pulled into the space which was reserved for their particular room. This would be their new home for the next couple of days.

Sam opened the car door and unfolded himself from the confines of the vehicle. He went to the room and unlocked it while Dean went to the trunk to grab their bags. He felt around on the wall until he found the light switch and flicked it on.

It looked like a decent place for once. The blue and white floral-patterned comforters looked fairly new and the dark blue carpet still had some pile left to it. There was even a small kitchenette off to the side which was nice. Sam went in and made a thorough check of the premises as one or the other of them usually did when arriving at a new motel; it was Sam's turn tonight. Just as he finished up, Dean walked through the door with their things.

"Sam, there's one more bag out there. Think you can get it?" Dean asked as he started dropping the duffels he already had onto the bed.

"Yeah, I got it." Sam went back outside. Just as he was closing the trunk, his stomach growled. Lunch was hours ago and he was hungry. "Hey, you want something to eat?" he asked when he got back into the room and set the last bag down on the floor by his bed. "We passed a small diner on the way in…"

"You read my mind, Sammy. But do you mind making the run on your own? I was hoping to grab a quick shower." Dean was already pulling his sweatpants out of his bag and was rummaging around for something else, finally pulling out his toothbrush with a smile.

"Sure. You want your usual?" Sam opened the door and stood there for a second, waiting for Dean's answer. He wasn't sure if Dean would be doing beef after seeing Ol' Bess today, but knowing his brother, it wouldn't bother him that much. Dean was a red meat man. There was no changing that.

"Yeah, that'll work. Maybe see if they have some pie or something, too," Dean replied as he headed into the bathroom. It had been a long day and he still had the smell of dead cow in his nose. He hoped the shower would wash it away.

"That goes without saying. I'll be back in a few. I've got my phone if you need me." Sam left and closed the door behind him.

As they were talking, neither brother saw the shadow that darted in past Sam's leg and disappeared behind one of the beds. It moved too quickly for their eyes to register.

The bathroom door clicked shut and what had previously passed for a shadow had now stopped long enough to be seen, but no one was in the room to see it. The creature smiled and giggled. It tilted its spiky, wooden head and narrowed its large, dark eyes. This was going to be exciting. He scraped his long, sharp nails along the wall as he wandered around, waiting for the man to start up the shower. The man, Dean, had walked onto sacred ground today and he'd pay for it. Actually, both of the men had trespassed, but the creature didn't like the other man. He sensed something different about the younger one and decided to keep his distance from him.

He jumped up onto the bed and walked over to the nightstand where Dean had hidden his weapon in the drawer. With a thought, the drawer slid open. The shiny gun intrigued the creature and he jumped into the drawer next to it. The gun was as big as him. If it was smaller, he'd take it for himself, add it to his growing pile of treasure back in the forest. The shiny things were his favorite. He hefted the weapon up to look at it while he gave Dean time to get comfortable in the shower. The creature jumped when he accidentally knocked it out onto the floor with a loud thump.

A few minutes went by; it had been long enough, the creature mused. He looked over to the bathroom and wiggled his nose. Suddenly, he heard the man scream as the water turned frigid. He giggled.

Dean had his hair lathered up and was standing under the showerhead rinsing off when all of a sudden the water went from nice and hot to cold and icy. "Holy shit!" he hollered. He reached down and spun the handle all the way to hot, but the water remained all too cold. Shampoo was running down in his face. Dammit. As fast as he could, he rinsed off and jumped out of the shower. "Goddamned motels and their cheap-assed water heaters," he mumbled as he toweled off.

Dean wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at himself. He could see the weariness showing through on his face. The life of a hunter wasn't kind. Fine lines were starting to show around his eyes. There were a few light scars that were hardly noticeable; they were nothing compared to the mental scars from everything he'd seen and done over the years, his time in Hell being at the top of that list. Dean grabbed the toothpaste and his toothbrush from the counter and began to brush his teeth.

Sam hadn't gotten back yet by the time Dean came out of the bathroom. He walked over to his bed and took the bags off, putting Sam's on the other bed and dropping his clothing bag and the weapons duffel on the floor. Dean frowned when he saw his Colt lying on the carpet between the two beds. He could have sworn he had hidden it in the nightstand drawer. He leaned over to pick it up and looked at it, admiring its sleek lines (It was still his favorite gun.), and then put it away.

After Dean cleaned his bed off, he sat down, fluffing the pillows up behind his back and flicked the TV on. Sam would be back with their food soon and, man, he was hungry. His mouth was already watering thinking of a big, juicy burger…and pie. He settled on an old black and white western as he waited.

The television started to flicker, and then settled. Another minute went by and the channel changed of its own accord. Dean frowned. He picked up the remote and put the western back on. No sooner had he put the remote down and the channel changed again. "Dude, what the hell?"

Suddenly, Dean heard, or thought he heard, a small child-like giggle from somewhere in the room. He thought about the elf, or whatever it was, that was out in the woods earlier. At the same time, the television's volume increased and the laugh track for the TV show picked up. Maybe that's all it was. Dean gave up and turned the thing off. He got up from the bed and found Sam's laptop bag. He figured he could start on the research while he waited for his food.

Sam held one bag of food in his mouth as he clutched two others in his left hand and started to put the key in lock, but before he was able to finish the motion, the door opened from the inside.

"Where'd you go, Chicago? Took you long enough." Dean grumped as he took the two bags that were in Sam's hand and brought them over to the small table in the kitchen area. That was when he noticed one wasn't food. "Whoa, Sam, you didn't!" He smiled as he pulled a new bottle of whiskey from the second bag.

"That, my brother, is why I took so long." Sam placed the third bag down on the table. "I thought we could both use that after a long day."

"I won't disagree," Dean said as he sat down and started pulling the food from the bags. "I'm starving, dude." He stuffed a pile of fries into his mouth as he unwrapped his bacon cheeseburger from the tin foil.

Sam saw the laptop was up and running. "You find anything?" He gestured to the computer with his chin as he opened a packet of dressing and poured it on his salad. A minute later he stabbed into his meal with a fork and took a bite.

"Nah, I barely got it on when I heard you pull up." Dean took another large bite of his burger and chewed it with what could only pass for sheer bliss. "Mmm, they cook a mean burger over there. How's your rabbit food?"

Sam had spun the laptop to face himself and looked up at Dean from the screen. His brother could be threatened with death and not touch a salad. "It's good." He didn't want to give Dean anything to grasp onto for further taunting. "I see you got your shower in."

"Just barely." At Sam's questioning look, Dean told him about the cold shower. He didn't say anything about the television. These places were lucky to have working televisions in the first place.

"Huh," was Sam's reply. He stuffed another forkful of salad into his mouth and chewed. Dean was always complaining about the showers at the places they stayed. It was no big deal. "Did you send those pictures over to Bobby yet?"

Dean was in the middle of taking a long pull from his Coke when Sam asked him the question. He set the cup back down. "No. Not yet," he said as he stuffed the last of his burger into his mouth. He paused to chew what was in his mouth and swallowed, "I thought we could research this thing a little more first. I didn't want to send him just a couple of pictures that don't show much." He reached back over for his cup and it wasn't there. Dean frowned. It was across the table by Sam. "Sam, did you touch my cup?"

The younger Winchester looked up at his brother. "No, why?" He looked and Dean's soda was sitting next to his own food on the table. He reached over and slid it to Dean without a thought.

"Never mind." Dean picked the cup up and looked at it like he was searching for its hidden legs. Sam would think he was crazy if he said anything. He stood up from the table and collected their trash.

Sam saw that Dean hadn't touched his pie. "Aren't you gonna eat that?" He looked from Dean to the plastic container which still held the dessert.

"I think I just need a drink," Dean said as he reached up to open a cabinet and pulled two glasses out. "Want one?" He held the two glasses up between his fingers.

"Uh, yeah, sure. That's what I got it for." Sam eyed his brother. Something was bothering Dean and he wasn't talking about it. Maybe a couple of drinks would loosen his tongue.

Dean cracked the seal on the bottle and poured two glasses; there was slightly more in his. He turned and gave Sam the second glass. "Cheers," he said somewhat dryly and knocked his drink back in one gulp, only to pour another right after.

The creature sat back in the corner and watched the interactions between the two men. He had concluded that they were siblings. He could tell they cared for each other. It would be fun to watch Dean break while the other, Sam, watched. The creature saw how Dean was starting to second guess himself, even this early on. A giggle escaped his lips; he couldn't help it.

Dean heard it again. That damn giggle. He looked over to Sam. His brother was too engrossed in his current research to notice. Someone could have slammed a door behind the man and he probably wouldn't even jump. Dean brought his glass up to his lips and downed the rest of the amber liquid. He pushed up from where he was leaning against the counter and placed the empty tumbler in the sink. Without saying anything to Sam, Dean walked across the room to see if he could find the source of the noise.

He looked behind the television stand. Nothing. Just for ha ha's, Dean unplugged the set while he was there. He looked under the desk. Nothing. He looked in the bathroom, behind the shower curtain, under the sink, behind the toilet. Nothing. He looked under Sam's bed. Nothing.

Dean leaned over and looked under his bed. There was something there. He looked over at Sam. The guy was still typing away at the computer, completely unaware of what Dean was doing. The elder brother got down on his knees and reached under the bed. Something caught on his hand and he yelped as he pulled his arm back out. "Son of a bitch!"

That got Sam's attention. He saw Dean down on the floor between the beds and he raised an eyebrow. "Dean, what the hell are you doing over there?"

Dean looked at his hand. There was a small nick on it and it was bleeding. "Don't worry about it, Sam." He must have caught his hand on the metal frame to the bed. Dean took another quick look under the bed. There was nothing there.

Sam watched Dean get up from the floor and dust the unseen dirt from his knees. He wanted to know what his brother was up to, but Dean didn't seem like he was in the sharing kind of mood. He looked back at the computer.

"So listen to this. I've cross-referenced what we know, and I'm basing this on it being an Elemental…I think we might be dealing with a Spriggan."

"A what?" Dean was sitting on the bed, nursing the cut on his hand with a tissue.

"A Spriggan. It's a small treelike creature, and from what I can see, they can be pretty nasty; they're vicious little suckers. They've been known to kill cattle, cause blight to crops…hell, they've even been known to leave changelings in place of human children sometimes. And check this out…they are easily identified by their shrill laugh."

Sam continued to read through the description of the creature.

"They're often found in wooded areas, are fast as hell, and can cast mischievous spells. They like to confuse their prey, too." Sam ran his finger down the screen looking for the important bits and pieces of information. "Um, they can also form some kind of bond with animals."

Dean sat listening to what Sam was telling him. He thought about everything that had been happening to him since coming back to the room. No. Everything happening in the room could be explained somehow. It wasn't some little tree hugger.

"So does it say how we can kill it?" He knew he didn't like faeries for a reason.

"Hang on." Sam browsed the web page he was on. "Well, they don't like salt and holy water, but it looks like our best bet is either iron or fire. Oh, and you can supposedly turn your clothes inside out to repel one."

"If anyone thinks I'm gonna start wearing my clothes inside out…" Dean stood up and went back over to the table. He pulled his chair around so he could sit next to Sam and see the computer screen as well. Sam dragged the laptop over so Dean could get a better view.

"Sam, what's that say right there, after it talks about fire being able to take the thing out?"

Sam read the next paragraph. "Fuck."

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Dean stood up from the table. Not only were they gonna have to figure out how to catch and kill Speedy Gonzales, they were going to have to do it three friggin' times. "Why don't you check a couple other sites and see if they all say the same thing."

Dean went back over to the sink to retrieve his glass. He needed another drink.

Ten minutes later, Sam spoke up again. "It's not looking too good. They all concur with one another. A Spriggan can regenerate twice. We need to kill it three times." He paused. "And there's something else."

"Well, don't keep me in suspense, Sammy." Dean drained the rest of his glass and waited.

Sam carded a hand through his long hair before speaking. "Each time it comes back, it gets stronger."

"Fuck." Dean poured another glass. This time he refilled Sam's, too.

The Spriggan watched from the shadows. They were talking about his kind and how to rid themselves of him. He smiled. They weren't the first to try, and certainly wouldn't be the last. No one had ever gotten him a first time, let alone three times. He looked at the electronic device that they were getting their information from. With a little wiggle of his nose, he made it short out.

He snickered at the curses coming from the mouths of the two men.

The brothers stared at the computer. It was fried. The smell of melted plastic tickled their noses.

"How the hell'd that happen?" Dean asked, even though he was starting to have his own suspicions, no matter how far-fetched they seemed to be.

"What makes you think I would know?" Sam was pissed. Sure, most of his past research was saved to external hard drives which were stored at Bobby's house, but it wasn't easy to come by a new computer these days, not with their form of income. He looked over at Dean. Sam saw his brother looking around the room once again, almost as if he was looking for something. "Okay, Dean. Spill it. What've you been hiding from me? And don't tell me 'nothing'. You've been acting weird since getting here."

Yeah, maybe he should tell Sam. Obviously it was doing no good trying to hide it. "I think it's here, Sam…in this room. Somehow it followed us here."

Sam's eyes automatically started to search the room from his seat. No. No way. They would have seen it come into the room. Wouldn't they have? "What makes you think that?"

"Well, it's either that or we have a poltergeist. Weird shit's been happening all night. First it was the shower, and then my gun was on the floor after I swear I left it in the nightstand. And then the TV went on the fritz. I know I heard the thing laughing then.

"Oh, and then my cup disappeared from my end of the table and reappeared by you. And this." He showed Sam the small cut on his hand. "The first few things I was able to explain away, but all of this together? Something's up."

"So that's what you were looking for earlier, the Spriggan?"

"Guilty as charged. Yeah. And I didn't find anything."

Sam stood up and joined Dean by the counter. He could use another drink himself, but he knew it wasn't a good idea, not if they had an Elemental running around loose in their room. Dean might be able to hold his liquor, but Sam couldn't do more than a couple of glasses.

This wasn't a good situation. Sam knew they really shouldn't leave the room, not when there was a chance a creature like that was running around loose. Anyways, if they left, it would probably just follow them. There had to be a reason it came after them in the first place.

"Dean, we're gonna have to search the room again. If you're right and he is here, he seems to be targeting you mostly. Did you do something to piss it off that you're not telling me about?"

Dean just looked at Sam. "No, but I'm gonna when I find it. I'm gonna break its damn neck three times if I have to," Dean growled. He was starting to think he shouldn't have had so much to drink. He was starting to feel a little tipsy. What'd he have, four, five…six glasses? He had lost track. "Why couldn't the damn faery go after you?" he mumbled.

"I guess I'm just lucky." Sam gave a half-smile. "Well, first thing's first." He leaned over to whisper in Dean's ear. "Let's salt the doors and windows so it can't leave."

Dean nodded. He went over to the foot of his bed and picked up the weapons duffel. He set it down on the bed and opened it. After a minute of shuffling things around, Dean produced two canisters of rock salt. He tossed one to Sam and they quickly made their way around the room salting the windows and doors.

Watching the brothers salt the windows and doors caused the creature to smile. Salt was more of a bother than anything. If he really wanted to leave, he still could, but let them think it would stop him. The same went with holy water. It burned, but that was all. The only things the Spriggan had to worry about were fire and iron. It was true what they said about them. Either could kill him.

He decided to lay low for a while, at least until they went to bed. They had to sleep eventually.

The Spriggan backed off into a far corner of the room and blended his form into the surroundings. He was almost chameleon-like in the way that he did so.

Sam tossed the nearly empty salt container back to Dean when he was done. "I'll take first watch."

"Yeah, but no, that's not happening," Dean said as he tucked the two salt canisters back into the duffel.

"You're gonna have to sleep some time, Dean."

"Well then I'll take first shift. This bitch is mine if he shows his ugly face. I want first shot. I've even got some old iron rounds kicking around." Dean went to the nightstand and pulled his Colt from the drawer.

"Dean, no. You can't go shooting that thing in here." He stared at Dean with disbelief. This creature had his brother more stirred up than he thought.

"If you want, I could always go out to the car and grab one of the flame throwers." Dean smiled as he said this, knowing Sam would like that even less. He left his gun on the nightstand, not wanting to put it away just yet.

Sam shook his head and chose to ignore his brother. "Let's just take another look around the room before calling it a night." He still wasn't convinced that there was something in the room with them. They'd both been guilty of having overactive imaginations in the past.

Twenty minutes later, the room was torn apart; it looked like a tornado had hit…and they found nothing.

"Dean, I hate to ask, but are you sure this thing's in here?" Sam questioned Dean as he sat down on his bed and toed off his shoes. He was tired. The whiskey hadn't helped to keep him awake. "I know a lot of crap's been happening tonight, but like you said, it can all be explained by normal stuff. Even my laptop. It's not like the thing was new."

Dean dropped down onto his bed and wiped his hands over his face. Was Sam right? He looked around at the salt lining the windows and door. He sighed deeply. It had been a long day. He'd been up since seven that morning, drove all the way here, and it was starting to get late.

"Dean?" Sam asked, waiting for a response.

"I don't really know, Sam," he replied with an air of defeat.

"You're tired. I can see that. Why don't you lay down and I'll keep an eye on things for a while. If it stays quiet, we'll just have to assume it's nothing. We'll get an early start tomorrow at the farm and get to work on wrapping this thing up."

Right now, Dean trusted Sam more than he did himself. He'd been second guessing himself all night. "Yeah, okay. Just be sure to wake me if anything, anything, happens."

"You know I will, Dean."

Dean opened his eyes. The red digits of the alarm clock sitting on the nightstand told him it was 2:12 a.m. He could just barely see his brother's silhouette in the other bed. Apparently Sam felt safe enough to go to sleep.

He rolled over and looked up at the ceiling. Dean's eyes widened when, there, perched on his headboard and looking down at him with big, dark, beady eyes that twinkled in the moonlight, was the Spriggan.