"I don't see why we just don't go to the Langan's house," Dean waved one hand in the air lightly as he talked, before placing it, once more, on the steering wheel

"I don't see why we just don't go to the Langan's house," Dean waved one hand in the air lightly as he talked, before placing it, once more, on the steering wheel. "You know, ask around, do a little more digging." He was sitting back in his seat, a comfortable, relaxed position. "Digging is what we're good at."

Sam was sitting upright, not extremely so, but the juxtaposition was exceptional in comparison.

"That is, after all, what the plan was Sammy," Dean was still talking, but his brother wasn't hearing, far too wrapped in his own musings. Strange, it was usually the other way around.

'Angie' by The Rolling Stones was playing, loudly, yet somehow softly on the stereo.

"You know, go to the house first, try to find out what the kid really saw. Not just burst into this town's version of Amityville…" The elder glanced over to the other, a small twitch of the eyes.

Sam gave no reaction.

"Sam. Sam. Sammy." Dean paused, licked his front teeth, pondering. "Come on college boy! Stop day dreaming about your girlfriend!" He grinned broadly as his brother's eyes unglazed, and turned towards him.

"What?" He frowned slightly at him, a small, sleepy scowl. His voice a quiet hush compared to his brother's.

"What, what Sammy?" The elder hunter kept his eyes fixed on the road as they turned a corner.

"What girlfriend?"

"The chick from the Library." The younger Winchester's face contorted into a full on glare, his mouth becoming a straight line as his eyelids lowered threateningly.

Dean chuckled.

"Seriously," the elder continued, before his brother could get a word, or retort, in. "How come we're going to the 'Hanuted-Vincent-More-Like-Adam's-Family-Freak-Out-Murder-House'?"

Sam stared at him for a moment, his mind catching up with his sibling's words.

"We're going to the 'Haunt-' " Sam swallowed, blinking slowly, and stifling a yawn. "To 62 Cedar Road, because I'm starting to doubt if its really haunted or not." He said, flatly.

Dean turned his head sharply and stared at him, for a full three seconds before remembering he was driving. His hands tightened on the wheel, he swallowed, perfect shock formed on his face.

"Dean, you ok?" Sam sat up suddenly, worry eradicating his tiredness.

"You doubt that's it's really haunted?" The younger sighed, and relaxed slightly.

"I mean, maybe-"

"You doubt that something weird is going on?" Disgust seamlessly mixed with outraged disturbance in the elder's voice. He almost sounded offended.

"No, it's just-"

"How can something weird not be going on?"

"Dean, just maybe-"

"You're the one who was so convinced that it was haunted. Is the grand master of Knowledge admitting he could be wrong?" The elder teased, a smirk gracing his lips.

Sam sighed.

"Just, maybe there's something else going on, something other than a sprit." Dean shrugged.

"Maybe." There was a pause. "Still don't get why we're not going to the Langan house first."

"Well, we've only got one witness-"

"I love when you say that, makes it sound like we're in CSI or Law And Order or Shark or something."

Dean grinned broadly, half gazing off for a moment, wrapped in his own world. Sam spared him a part frown, confused smile/glance before continuing.

"Yeah, TV references aside… The brother probably didn't see anything anyway."

"Probably." The elder Winchester repeated, in a slightly deeper tone somehow managing to convey his agreement with his brother and also the chance that Mike Langan may have seen more than he had told.

"Even if he has," Sam proceeded once more, the conversation flowing so easily and the ideas transferring so quickly it was as if, even though there were two bodies in the car, there was only one mind.

Some sort of sibling telepathy.

"Probably too traumatised to make sense of it."

Dean let out a 'hmm' of agreement as he pulled up next to 62 Cedar Road.

"It'll be best if we go over the place, check for EMF." The elder Winchester didn't need to say anything to show his agreement.

He and Sam glanced at the house for a moment, taking in the aged realm of the dwelling, like the dry crack and peel of old paint.

Dean turned the key in the ignition the sound of 'Ain't Talkin' 'Bout Love' by Van Halen dying to silence.

There was still a mass of police 'Don Not Cross' tape wrapped heavily around the building, making it look like a giant spider in it's web, waiting to pounce on some unsuspecting fly.

Sam felt a small shiver run down his spine just looking at it, and hoped against everything and anything that he didn't resemble the house's version of an insect.

He shook his head slightly to the side, wrinkling his nose as he looked up at the number sixty-two.

The younger sibling jumped out of his thoughts as he heard the door slam behind him.

It took Sam a moment to realise Dean had got out of the Impala, and for him to, therefore, do the same.

"Besides, when Bobbie called before we left, he said he'd be at the motel 'bout five thirty. We've got time to give this place the once over before heading back to meet him and compare notes."

Dean nodded listening to his brother, as he walked around to him before they both began to make their way in picking through the police tape and checking no one was watching. Both having taken the precaution of getting their equipment ready and on their person before hand so that the didn't have to open the weapon encrusted boot in broad daylight, on a heavily populated street, where young girl had recently died.

"Bobbie said he'd got one his contacts to do a bit of research on this place, Rider or something."

Dean 'hmmed' and nodded again. He hung back slightly; glancing around once more to check there was no one watching as Sam went forwards to the gate.

The sun lay low in the crisp, cold sky. It was near on its way to set, the blueness of the sky becoming a thick flaming orange, the glare so bright it was almost unbearable to glance in its direction at all.

Towards to the east the sky was growing darker, the echo of navy reaching out like a hand to blanket the glowing orb of the sun. The approach of the oncoming night.

The elder Winchester shook his head to the side, satisfied that there was no one observing them and walked after his brother.

The younger hunter paused by the gate, looking down at the mass of chains and locks on the metallic entrance, a slight frown on face. He glanced from the door to his brother to the door again, and sighed.

The chains weren't a problem, but there was a hell of a lot of them, and it would take a very long, boring time to unravel them all. He was about to suggest that they look for another way in, when Dean nudged the metal with his foot, and it swung open.

The younger glance to the elder, who smirked smugly and sauntered ahead.

He turned as he walked to face Sam.

"Dean, one." He pointed at himself, holding up one finger. "Stanford, zero." He indicated to Sam and made a circle out of his fingers, before chuckling and turning back around. The younger hunter rolled his eyes and strode after him.

The front garden was heavily overgrown; their path ahead almost completely blocked.

Sam scowled slightly; the urge to squirm was immense and difficult to suppress. He managed it though, mainly because he knew how much Dean would take the piss out of him for getting the 'heebee geebees'.

It was like someone was watching them.

The elder Winchester strode ahead, pushing a trail through the undergrowth, every now and then getting his jacket caught by thorns or some vine like root wrapping itself around his legs. It was like the place was one great big living, breathing creature that wanted them both to become part of the permanent fixtures.

He shivered slightly in spite of himself and hoped that his brother didn't notice, he knew how much Sam would take the mickey out of him for getting the 'heebee geebees'.

The younger hunter stuck close to his brother, the impulse not to be alone so strong that it made him feel like a scared four year old again, frightened by the thing in the closet.

He swallowed, his features pinching together; his hand went of its own accord to his gun. His body relaxing as his fingers just graced the cool metal.

He thought of their father, the first time he had given him a weapon. Sam pushed the thought aside.

Dean had taken his shotgun out from its hiding place under his jacket and was using it to beat at some of the botanical life. His patients with the plants having worn thin ever since a large thorn coated stem, growing sideways, had flunk back suddenly and scrapped down the side of his face.

A small, thin, scratch was visible, dark crimson dropping lightly down his cheek; he wiped at the tickling wetness, smearing a copper red kiss across his skin.

His fingers were covered in scrapes and cuts, like he had had a run in with a very unfriendly cat.

Dean could just about see how a young, thin, fourteen year old girl would get past all this without being entangled in the plant life.

He sighed out his annoyance; at least the police or coroners could have cut some of the botanical life back a bit.

"How you doing back there Sammy?" He asked, a slight gruff tone to his voice.

"Ok." The younger brother let out a hiss of annoyance as he narrowly dodged a large hanging vine.

Dean didn't envy his brothers extra height.

"Sam, plants don't like salt, right? Can I shoot at them?" The younger Winchester chuckled.

Dead leaves muffled their footsteps; fallen twigs and branches snapped under their footfall like brittle bones.

It would be easy to get lost in here, Sam thought. The leaves and roots growing so thick that they seemed to blanket out the rest of the world.

He could easily imagine a panther crouching in wait behind the shadow of a bush. He could believe that they were miles and miles away, in some far off land.

He inhaled strongly, then stopped, freezing in place, only his eyes moving as they grew in size. Sam could hear breathing behind him. White fog just catching at the corner of his eye.

He spun suddenly, a perfect turn, his hand reacting instinctively for the handle of his gun, but he didn't pull it out.

He turned to face who or whatever was behind him, but found nothing just the small path they had just walked along. The closed wooden gate just visible. The younger Winchester frowned.

That's weird… He thought, in spite of himself. I could have sworn I left the gate open… A deep resonating shiver ran down his spine, tingling down to the base of his legs, adrenaline races through his system pushing him to run, as fast as he could.

"Sam?" The younger hunter's head snapped up and he span back, once more, to face his brother. Who was now a few steps away from him. The younger sibling moved his head up slightly, his eyebrows raising and falling for a second.

A questioning expression.

"You ok?" The elder asked, concern leaking into his voice, making it deeper. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I just… I just thought I saw something…" He trailed off, feeling foolish.

"Did you?"

"No, yeah, I dunno…" Dean nodded, understanding, a small frown echoing on his forehead, he bit absentmindedly at his bottom lip.

"Come on." The elder turned back as Sam walked the few strides towards his brother. Dean waited, not moving even an inch, until the younger was close. "I've been thinkin' " The elder said, breathing out deeply through his nose. His grip tight on the handle of the shotgun, loaded with rock salt.

"Don't hurt yourself." Sam muttered, when his brother didn't continue.

Dean turned his head back to pester a glare at his sibling.

"This garden's overgrown, I mean it's Winter Sam and look at the leaves." The younger Winchester paused, staring at the rich greenness that he had just taken for granted before. The weirdness of it hadn't even registered in his brain. "Look at the plants, you can't tell me they're all like pine trees."

"No," Sam squinted at a tree for a moment, his brain racing. "This is an oak, they're deciduous."

There was a pause.

"They loose their leaves in the Winter Dean." He added, helpfully.

"I knew that Sam." The elder Winchester added, a little too quickly. "Anyway," he cleared his throat. "As I was saying, all the plant life here, it's all green, alive. That can't be normal."

"Definitely."

"So, maybe it's got something to do with what's going on, try waving the EMF meter around."

Sam nodded in agreement and instinctively took the busted Walkman from his inside jacket pocket. He switched in on with a flick of his thumb, the row of lights blaring into life; the younger Winchester quickly slid the headphones into his ears and proceeded to make sweeps with the machine as they walked along.

Or, as his brother put it, he waved it around a bit.

Sam ducked and weaved every now and then, avoiding plant life, while he tried to monitor the readings.

The light pitched buzzing noise and array of flashing lights were higher than normal, but not by that much. He sighed slightly, looking up as Dean bounded up the few rotting wood steps to the front porch.

The younger Winchester pulled the headphones out from his ears. As the older turned and raised his eyebrows.

"Nothing." Sam said. The elder shrugged as his sibling joined him on the porch.

"Now Sammy, how much do you bet that this door is locked?" The aforementioned paused for a moment, watching Dean, who's hand was resting near his left jean pocket.

Where he kept his lock picks.

"Five bucks."

The elder nudged the wooden door and it swung gently open on its hinges, not even making a sound.

The younger Winchester's face dropped, while the older's brightened, and turned into a full on grin as he held out his right hand.

Sam scowled, and rummaged in his back pocket for his wallet, he pulled out a five dollar note as violently as he could and slammed it into Dean's hand.

The elder hunter chuckled.

"Thank you, Sammy." He inspected the note thoroughly, then held it close to his nose and inhaled deeply. "Smell that Sam?"

"Shut up Dean."

"That's success. I know what you were thinking, you were thinking that the cops won't be stupid enough to leave a door to a crime scene open… Poor deluded Sammy." The elder sibling muttered as he walked in, a smile still threatening his face.

Sam sighed, and followed.

It was strange, there hadn't been any do not cross tape on the front door of the house and there was no taped out body shape lying on the floor. Perhaps it was because no one assumed foul play.

It was almost as if the police simply assumed that no one would dare to cross. Sam paused for a moment, pondering. Maybe because even though it was expanding, the town was still suck in its small ways, still believing that everyone knew everyone.

That people were just descent folk.

Sam almost envied them.

"You wanna take the upstairs or the downstairs?" Dean asked, breaking the younger Winchester out of his thoughts.

Sam glanced up; the staircase was five steps in front of the main entrance, a large entrance either side of it. The left seemed to ver off to the dinning hall and kitchen while the right was the living room and a study. It was easy to see the rooms that led from rooms as all the wooden doors had been gutted from the house long ago.

Even though the building had been vacant for years, it still seemed, newly abandoned. There was no graffiti on the walls, no reminders of squatters or drunken teenagers.

As if there was a respect for this place.

More like fear.

"Upstairs." Sam said, looking to his brother, who nodded. Dean had already taken his flashlight out and was holding it close to the shotgun, his arms straight and lowered. He made his way left.

The younger sibling watched him for a moment, before taking his own weapon and flashlight out and plugging the EMF reader's headphone into his right ear. He left the left to dangle free.

Tune in next time for the continuation…