Lily breathed a sigh of relief when the final bell rang, signalling the end of the school day. For one thing, she had made it through a whole day without the ghost attacking anyone. For another, the new kid's staring was really starting to unnerve her.

Most of the kids had filtered out and Lily was tidying her desk, ignoring the feeling of blue eyes boring into her back, when Sam and Dean arrived to pick up their son. Cas was sitting motionlessly on his tiny green chair, waiting for them, and apparently didn't need to blink. He stood up to greet his parents as they entered the classroom.

"Hello," the little boy said seriously. Lily breathed a little easier when he finally transferred his gaze from her to stare intensely at Dean. Interestingly, Sam was only afforded a brief glance before the whole of the child's attention was focussed on the man beside him.

"Hey, Feathers. How was school, buddy?" The expression of poorly contained amusement that had been all over Dean's face that morning was back. He grinned widely at his son, who glared at him.

"I read a book about a rabbit," said Cas.

Lily saw an opportunity and took it. "Why don't you show your Daddy the book while I talk to your other Daddy?" She steered him gently towards the books.

"Dean and Sam are not my 'Daddies'," Cas growled at her. Oh dear. Maybe that was why he'd had such a difficult job adjusting to school. He'd only recently been adopted and hadn't fully settled into his new family yet. "I must speak with you, Dean. Come on."

Dean docilely followed the order, barely containing his laugh. Lily frowned. It didn't seem like he was taking parenting very seriously.

Lily returned to speak to Sam, craning her neck to look up at him as she spoke. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but your son appears to be having some social difficulties," she began.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Dean and Cas. They were seated at the table in the corner, Dean ridiculously huge in his miniscule red chair, Cas straight-backed and stiff in his green one. A thin book with colourful pictures was open on the table before them, but neither was looking at it. They were having a very serious conversation. The teasing laughter had disappeared from Dean's face. Lily couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't sound like a conversation between an adult and a child. In fact, if Lily hadn't been able to see that Cas was a child, and hear the pitch of a child in his voice, Lily would have thought it was two adults talking. She could just make out a few words every now and then. Words like vengeful and replacement and strangely, at one point, salt. She returned her attention to Sam, who was saying something about rabbits.

What was with this family and rabbits?

Lily didn't have to answer his question, which was something incredibly freaky and weird about what she did with class pets if they accidently died. Unfortunately, it was because there was a sudden drop in temperature inside the classroom, like a gust of frigid air. Lily's heart sped up, her breath beginning to come in fast, sharp puffs of white mist. Before she could find the words to warn them about the ghost, Sam was manhandling her under a table in a way that was both perplexing and insulting, and ordering her to stay there.

Somewhere on the other side of the room and above Lily's head, there was the rush of wind as something flew across the room at speed, and a thud-crunch as it landed on something hard enough to break it. Lily couldn't see anything because the table Sam had so heroically shoved her under was made for five-year-olds and consequently so low to the ground it was impossible to get a good angle to see from. She snaked forward on her belly, peering out just in time to see Dean throw himself sideways to avoid a pair of plastic lefty scissors as they hurtled through the air and lodged themselves in the wall behind the rabbit hutch.

A shape was flickering in mid-air over the art station in the corner, partially hidden from Lily's view by the leg of the table she was hiding under and the box of paints that was now balanced precariously on the edge of the paint-speckled counter. She craned her neck for a better look. The shape was roughly the size of her head, grey and transparent, flickering like a TV in an electric storm. She gasped. Could it be? She wriggled out from under the table, wincing as her head hit the wooden tabletop. She stood up, turning to look at the art station. It was.

The box of paints jerked violently, teetering on the edge. Stilled. Jerked again. Then it was flying through the air, hurled by an unseen force as the transparent figure flickered angrily above the other side of the art station. The box rolled in the air, paint bottles spilling from its open top and continuing to speed across the room. Lily ducked as one dipped suddenly above her, the lid coming off the bottle. Red paint splashed wetly on her, matting her hair and totally ruining her new Prada shirt. The paint box thudded to the ground three-quarters of the way across the room, like the force that had been supporting it couldn't sustain its weight anymore, but the paint bottles carried on, smashing hard into a table that Sam and Dean had turned on its side in front of the rabbit hutch while Lily had been watching the art station. Some of the plastic bottles burst as they hit the tabletop, leaving colourful splotches on the yellow.

Dean's head appeared above the edge of the table. "That is one pissed off bunny."

"No kidding, Dean. Now grab the rabbit and let's get out of here." Sam's head and shoulders appeared beside his brother's.

"The ghost is not yet strong enough to prevent us from leaving, but it is becoming strong at a much faster rate than human ghosts," their son's voice came from where he was hidden from view by the upturned table.

Lily watched nervously as a pair of scissors danced beside the ghost of Flopsy. Or it might have been Flopsy Two. They did look similar enough to fool five-year-olds, and any distinguishing features were erased by the flickering transparency.

"Come on," Sam grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her to the doorway.

Cas was already in the doorway, as calm and expressionless as he had been during art time. Dean was beside him, swearing violently as he attempted to hold on to the struggling, frightened form of Flopsy the third without crushing her.

"Wait," said Lily, as Sam pushed her out the door. The scissors she had seen moving picked themselves up and stabbed hard into the roof of Flopsy's sleeping box. The door slammed shut, blocking off the view of the classroom. "Maybe we can talk it down? My ghost-facing kit has instructions. I have to call my husband. He won't want to miss this." Somehow it was easier to get excited about the ghost when she was no longer in danger of being stabbed in the eye with a paintbrush.

"The rabbit's capacity for language is not sophisticated enough to understand the concepts we need to communicate with it," Cas frowned at Lily. She stared at him.

"Ah! Shi- I mean ouch," Dean glanced across at Lily, censoring himself for her benefit, "Little bastard's got some powerful back legs." He wrestled with the rabbit for a moment, trapping it against his ribcage. "Shh, Flopsy… it's okay," he rested a large hand on the rabbit's back, comforting it and holding it still at once. "There isn't another cage is there?"

"Inside," Lily told him weakly. Everything was suddenly seeming very surreal. Much more so than when she had actually been able to see the ghost. "It's behind my desk. I can get it." She turned to go back into the room, pausing as a faint crashing sound reached her ears.

"Thanks Cas," said Dean.

Lily turned back to see what he was thanking him for. The tiny boy was standing beside his Dad, holding open the small wire travel cage with the blue plastic base that Lily kept behind her desk. Dean was lowering the trembling but no-longer-struggling Flopsy into it.

Lily revised her opinion on Cas from raised in a religious cult to not human. Or maybe she was just going crazy. She struggled to breath, suddenly feeling light-headed. She had to call Marshall. She had to call him right now.

"Hey, hey," Sam was beside her, gently lowering her to the ground, "Just sit there and put your head between your knees for a minute. You're alright."

From a long way away, Lily could hear Dean's gruff voice saying: "She just saw a ghost rabbit. She can't be that freaked by Cas zapping somewhere."

Then Sam's voice, a little closer: "Our lives are weird, man. I'm pretty sure you'd freak if you saw someone you thought was a normal kindergarten kid disappear and reappear out of nowhere."

"But she can't have actually thought Cas was a five-year-old. He sucks at pretending to be a kid."

"Dean, concentrate," the not-really-a-five-year-old ordered sternly, "I have greater concerns than this. We need to finish this now."

Lily looked up, slightly fuzzy-eyed with shock. Yes, they were still there.

"Well you suck at pretending to be married to me," Sam retorted, before crouching down beside Lily. "Lily? Are you with me?" Lily nodded. "We need to know what happened to the body of the rabbit that died in your classroom recently. The one that lived where the art station is now."

Lily thought for a moment. Flopsy Two's cage had been in that corner before she had rearranged her classroom. Flopsy Two had been a grey, floppy-eared rabbit almost identical to Flopsy three, except male. He'd suffered an unfortunate squashing incident when Suzie and James had been playing with him without her permission at recess. Lily had taken him to 'the vet' and replaced him with one the same from the pet shop so no-one would know that a) the class bunny had died and b)Lily had let the class bunny get squashed while she was on the phone to Marshall. "I took him to the pet cemetery," she said, "Jackson's Final Resting Place for Beloved Pets."

"What name is he buried under?"

"Flopsy."

Dean groaned. "Awesome. Do you know how many rabbits are called Flopsy? Freakin' Beatrix Potter… What?"

"Nothing," Sam shook his head, turning back to Lily. "Are you alright here? Can you call someone to come get you? We'll take care of this tonight. Your classroom will be fine by tomorrow morning."

"Flopsy's gonna need some food and stuff," Dean added, setting the cage down beside her, "And you need to put some newspaper or something in her cage. She was scared, so she pissed everywhere." And then as an afterthought, "Everything's going to be fine. It's just a rabbit. There's way worse stuff it could have been."

Lily wasn't sure she was comforted by that. She watched the McCreadys' retreating backs (was that even their name? She wasn't sure of anything anymore.), until they were out of sight. She quickly checked on Flopsy, who was curled in a ball in the corner of her cage, but seemed to be recovering. Satisfied for the moment, she pulled out her phone to get Marshall to pick her up.

By the time her husband got there, the shock was wearing off, and Lily was damned if she was going to let those three mysterious people get away without seeing what they were going to do that night.

"Call everyone," she told Marshall, "This mission's going to take us all."

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Have been busy making the cake and being the bridesmaid for a wedding.