Demonic Influence
Demons - part 1

THEN

Maddie Fenton calmly fired another shot of rock salt into the attacking ghost. She narrowed her eyes, and get her grip on her weapon steady.

Behind her, Danny pulled two teenagers to their feet.

"Are you okay?" He looked them over with a critical eye, noticing the way their clothes were ruffled. They had been pushed to be ground, and would probably end up with bruises, but they didn't seem to be injured beyond that. "Sam, right?"

The girl dressed in black nodded. Her eyes were wide as she stared at Danny's mom.

"And you're Tucker?"

"The one and only." The once confident words fell rather flat, and sounded practised.

"Hi, I'm Danny. But you already knew that, since I said that this morning in front of the entire class." Danny rubbed at his neck. He hadn't had much opportunity to interact with people his age before, and his nerves were getting the best of him. "I guess this answers that question you had about what my parents do for a living."

NOW

The apartment was small, and sparsely furnished. The reigning colour was purple. The colour repeated on the walls and any and all fabric. The wooden pieces of furniture were painted black. If anything, the colour themed served to make the place seem smaller. Two of the walls were covered in bookcases, which were filled with old tomes. Notes and books were scattered across the room in what would seem to be a chaotic mess, where any logic to the system only existed in the owners mind.

Sam Manson had moved out of her parents' house as soon as it was legal.

Currently, she was lounging on a comfy purple sofa with a thick book. It was newly purchased, but rather than smelling of fresh ink it carried the distinct scent of mothballs. The cover was half leather binding, in red and brown tones. Small letters, which had once been golden, were intended in the spine. They read 'Demonology.'

"I'm not even sure any of this is real." She sighed to herself as she flipped through the pages. "I mean... demons?"

On her left, Tucker snorted. He had a laptop, which may or may not have been named Linda, perched on his legs. "Isn't it goth enough for you?"

Sam glared at him. Years of practice let him comfortably ignore her.

"I don't like this." She mumbled it mostly to herself, but Tucker looked up from the screen to look at her.

"Me neither." He kept his voice completely serious. "I don't want Danny facing things he doesn't know about-"

"Not that." She frowned. "Or, well, that too. But I meant... Out of all these things; demons, werewolves, vampires... At least one is bound to be more misunderstood than monstrous. I don't like the idea of Danny running around killing things just because they're not human."

Tucker closed his eyes. He seemed like he was holding himself back from starting another meat versus veggies argument. "Sam, you know Danny. He won't kill anything that doesn't try to kill him first."

Valerie was considering poisoning Dean and Sam.

Nothing fatal, of course. Just something that would leave them stuck in bed or on the toilet. Something which would let her and Danny slip away without raising questions.

The four of them were sitting in another cheesy diner, which gave her ample opportunity to slip something into their drinks. The fact that she didn't actually have any poison on her was holding her back, though.

Danny was sitting next to Sam, who had his laptop out and internet open to news sites, to show what exactly he was looking for that would show demonic activity in an area. Danny didn't seem enthusiastic about it, but he was paying attention.

Valerie took another bite of her burger, when Danny reached for her fries. She slapped his fingers away without a second thought.

He pouted at her, sticking out his lower lip and making big puppy dog eyes.

She pretended she wasn't affected.

Next to her, Dean had finished flirting with the waitress. He turned back to the table just in time to get the full brunt of Danny's pleading expression.

"Should we have ordered something else? Because I'd happily call back Jessica." Dean had frozen slightly, but forced himself back to a comfortable confidence.

"That's not necessary." Val's voice was clipped. She stared at Danny as if daring him to argue.

"I'm on a low sodium diet." Danny shrugged and leaned back, away from the fries. "Doctor's orders."

Valerie had to hold back a snort. Maddie Fenton was, unlike her husband, not born into a family of hunters. She had finished her PhDbefore leaving her old life behind. Thus, she was a doctor. Danny's lying might have been lacklustre, but his half-truths were works of art.

"That explains the rabbit food. For a second, I thought somebody other than Sammy enjoyed salads."

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up." Sam glared at Dean. "Meanwhile, I've found us a case."

Danny sat in the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean was behind the wheel, going over more information on demons. In the "Foley" Family Ghost Assault Vehicle, Sam was doing the same to Valerie. Of course, she was driving the monstrosity. You didn't want someone uninitiated to control the GAV.

Danny relaxed, as much as he could, into the leather seat. His normal panic response when in contact with other hunters was slowly dying down.

Outside the window, the landscape rolled by. Field of gold were replaced by fields of corn.

Gatlin, Nebraska was as rural as you could get while still having a town. The houses were wooden, most of them were painted a light yellow. One had a scruffy old police car parked outside it, which is where Dean pulled over.

"Just follow my lead." Dean pulled out a couple of badges from the glove compartment. He handed one to Danny.

'Impersonating police officers... That's a new one.'

To their left, the GAV pulled over. For the moment, there were no advertisement for any news stations decorating its sides.

Valerie and Sam jumped out and joined Dean and Danny as they approached the house. Dean and Sam nodded at each other in something resembling understanding.

The local police, one single officer, came out of the house to greet the new arrivals.

"Agent Crosby. This is my partner, Agent Stills. We're with the FBI." Dean and Sam flashed their badges. "And out unpaid interns, Nash and Young."

"Captain Tom Harding, and I don't see why the feds would be interested in this case." The cop crossed his arms. He was a man in his late fifties, though his balding head made him seem older. The hair that he still had was a greyish brown. There was something exceedingly stubborn about the set of his jaw.

Danny stopped himself before rolling his eyes.

"I hate it the police become territorial. If old Harding think that he doesn't need us... he could end up getting in our way." Sam leaned towards Danny and Valerie and whispered from the corner of his mouth.

"We have reason to believe they were murdered by a serial killer. We've been following the scumbag through the state and this fits his MO." Dean's lie was smooth enough, it seemed, because Harding's arms fell to his sides as he shifted into a slightly more open pose.

"Well, we could use all the help we can get, I suppose." It looked like it painted Captain Harding to admit it. "I'll be down at the station, if you need me."

The inside of the house was homely, for lack of a better word. The curtains were flowery, and the sofa had a different pattern of flowers. Every single surface was covered by handmade doilies. It smelled of rotten eggs.

"Sulfur," noted Sam.

Dean and Sam started working the scene, explaining everything they were doing – however obvious – to their small audience.

Danny was about to offer comment when a shiver went down his spine. "As interesting as this is, I'm gonna go interview the witness."

"There were no witnesses." Dean's voice was gruff and confident.

"Sorry, I meant the victim." Danny left the room without waiting for a reaction to the statement.

A few seconds passed before three sets of footsteps followed him.

Danny ignored them as he followed the unmistakable sensation of a nearby ghost further into the house. He lead the others up the stairs and towards the bedrooms. Danny stretched out his hand, gripping a silver doorknob. The feeling stopped.

"It's gone." Somehow, it sounded like a question.

"Maybe it teleported away." Valerie shrugged. "They do that."

"No, it doesn't feel like that." Danny frowned, struggling to find words. "It just... disappeared. No traces left behind." There was a growing pit of dread in his stomach. "I don't like this."

Dean and Sam exchanged another meaningful look before pulling out handguns. Danny stepped aside, and Dean silently counted down from three before they pushed the door open and barged into the room.

"It's empty." Dean slowly lowered his gun, still on guard.

The room wasn't as flowery as the rest of the house. Dark green bedsheets and dark blue curtains, along with posters covering the walls depicting race cars, made it seem like the stereotypical boy's room.

In the middle of the room, unnoticed by Sam and Dean, was a small girl. She wasn't hiding, but neither man seemed to see the child standing right in front of them. She was dressed in a blue hoodie, and a threadbare pair of red shorts. She had black hair in a short ponytail, and a pair of very familiar blue eyes.

The small girl version of Danny lifted her hand and waved. "Hi."