Okay you guys, here's the next chapter. Also, good news, my other job is ending, since it was only for the summer, bad news my last semester of school is starts. But good news, IT'S MY LAST SEMESTER! WOOT WOOT! Anyways, please leave a review. I want you guys to tell me what you think. And if you don't want me knocking on doors to tell people about the wonder and love of fanfiction, than I suggest you send a review. now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!

Chapter 8

Sam and Dean have already interviewed some of Gael's co-workers and the only thing Dean has to say is that they are one colorful group. He looks down at his small notepad that has everyone's names and little blurbs about the individuals.

Kara: kind of on the tall side, loud voice, has a battery collection (she pulled them out of her purse when she wanted a piece of gum. Sam thought it was interesting), also she's one of their accountants.

Courtney: super short (maybe 5 foot), has eyes that take up half her face, and likes to steal bar glasses (she remembered Dean from the bar and pulled it out to show it off…), also she's a reporter.

Martin: wears glasses from the seventies, loves sci-fi, is a conspiracy theorist (Dean accidentally mentioned something alien related. He asked if Dean would like to see his notes. Seriously) also he's a board operator.

Jared: the douche, bossy, his eyes twitch (could be a tell) , wears a weird cologne (Dean actually liked the smell of it, but he wasn't going to ask about it, goddammit) also he's the general manager/owner of the radio station.

There were a couple more people they interviewed, but since it's the weekend, they use pre-recordings of all the reporters and "on-air personalities", which is the category that Gael falls under, so that people who have to talk on-air can take a break. The general consensus of Gael was that she's "really nice" and "she's quiet, but she eventually warms up to people" and that she "likes to keep to herself" most of the time and that she's sarcastic…all the time. However, now Sam and Dean are both stuck in the conference room with a projector, a white board, and a eight chairs surrounding the long and wide table. The walls are painted the same, warm brown colors, and there are a couple of pictures of the people who work there, maybe to commemorate some of the people that used to work there.

Dean looks up at the clock to check the time. It's almost one and Dean is fucking hungry. He taps his foot impatiently. Sam places a hand on top of Dean's leg to make him stop.

"Just give her a couple more minutes, dude," Sam says, slightly irritated himself.

"We've been waiting for thirty minutes Sam. Thirty minutes!" Dean crosses his arms, pouting. "I need fuel."

Sam rolls his eyes and smiles. However, he drops his smile and comes to attention when the door opens. In comes a woman with her hair pulled back into a messy bun, hair stragglers falling into her face. She's wearing a tank-top, with an oversized flannel, and baggy shorts. She trips on her way to a chair from across the brothers.

"Son of a bitch," She mutters as she pulls out the chair and sits. "Sorry."

Tired, blue/green hazel eyes turn to them. She looks completely exhausted with the black bags under her eyes.

"Miss Thornton?" Sam asks tentatively.

She raises her hand, as if she is in a classroom doing roll call. "Gale. Call me Gale."

"Gale," Dean says slowly, not wanting to scare her off, "Did you have a fun night last night?"

Gale's eyes sharpen and glare into Dean. "How can I not have a fun night with three shots of vodka, two tequilas, a long island ice tea, coke and rum, oh and let's not forget the whiskey shall we?"

Dean's jaw drops, "There's, like, six different types of alcohol in a long island…how the hell are you even alive?"

Sam looks between the two of them. "Wait, you already know each other?"

Dean nods his head and smirks when he sees Gael rubbing her eyes, "Yeah, she sort of serenaded me last night."

Gale does her best attempt at an eye roll, but grimaces at the movement. "What do you two want?"

"Well, I'm agent Johnson and this is Agent Smith," Sam starts to introduce, but she cuts him off.

"I know you're not FBI agents," she says looking at the two of them. "I know who you are. Now what the fuck do you want?"

Angry. He is so fucking angry. Dean slams the motel door open and stomps into the room. A tired Sam follows after him carrying: four bags of food (all for Dean), a case of beer, oh and of course pie. Apple pie.

Sam carefully kicks the door close and walks over to the table and drops everything onto it. Dean doesn't give a shit about the crunchy carpet and kicks his shoes off. Sure, they don't come off after the second or third try, but Dean can be pretty damn persistent when Dean wants to be. And right now, Dean wants to punch something. Kick something. Just yell at something. Or someone.


"Who the hell does she think she is?" Dean yells, as he rips the constraining tie from around his neck. "Telling us to shove our request up our asses! I'll tell her what she can shove up her ass!"

"Dean," Sam says in that tone of voice that makes his brother stop. Sam shakes his head, making sure that he doesn't go any farther than that.

"Oh come on Sammy!" Dean says, throwing his suit jacket across the room. "She said she felt no obligation, whatsoever, to helping us!" Dean throws his arms wide, as if to bring everything together, "the world out! Who the hell does that?!"

Sam shakes his head and sighs as he sits down on his bed. He rubs his eyes. "I don't know, Dean."

Dean's pacing their room, with his hands on his hips. He's just so angry. Sam just watches him. He knows Dean is pissed about Gael rejecting them, saying that she didn't want any part of this.

"Look the Darkness got out and it needs to be put back in," Dean explains, "and Maire needs you to do that."

Gael looks confused. "The Darkness got out? How?"

Dean and Sam look at each other. Rage starts to fill up those once tired eyes.

"How did it get out?" Her voice is low, quiet, but that doesn't hide the anger very well.

"We broke the curse of the Mark of Cain," Sam says quietly.

"You did what!" She stands up from her chair. Her body is physically shaking from the anger.

"You IDIOTS!" She yells at them. "What the hell were you thinking? Oh that's right, you two probably weren't. Damn Winchesters can never seem to think things through, can you?"

Sam and Dean watch her fall back into her chair.

"You done?" Dean asks, but it's the sort of tone you use with a child that's throwing a temper tantrum.

Gael's eyes glare at him. "I don't know, are you two?"

Anyways, that whole thing could have gone better, without Dean yelling at Gael about responsibility and Gael telling him she's not cleaning up his fucking mess. Sam tried to go after her, but she just disappeared.

"We're going to have to protect her," Sam says quietly.

Dean falls on top of his bed, his mattress sort of bouncing at the sudden weight. He groans and rolls over to his side and mutters something like "I don't wanna."

"Responsibility, Dean."


The Tree watched as the small bundle grew into something…beautiful. She is about the same height as Dubhlainn was when she first saw him. Dubhlainn has taught Gael many things, like how to shoot a bow, he had made her a small one to practice with as well as arrows, make clothing from linens he brings, how to cook her food, and many more. The tree watches on as he's teaching her how to dance. Its Gael is clumsy, tripping over her own feet, but she holds onto Dubhlainn's hands to try to remain steady. They laugh.

Time leaves them as the sun falls below the tree tops and the moon rises to take its place in the night sky. It is time, now, for Dubhlainn to leave, but he gives the tree's Gael a light kiss on the cheek in farewell. Gael watches as he leaves and once his form disappears into the bushes and trees, she walks over to the tree. She leans back against its trunk and closes her eyes.

"Crann," Tree.

Sea, mo ghrá. Yes, my love.

"An bhfuil tú ainm?" Do you have a name?

The Tree's crown of leaves wave in the air, almost as if it is shaking its head. Gael opens her eyes and she looks up, expecting a pair to look back. All she sees is two different barks twining together, as if a hand has twisted them together. A branch lowers itself and a leaf falls and gently touches her cheek. She leans her head against the trunk once more and closes her eyes.

"Ar mhaith leat ceann?" Would you like one?

Ainm ? A name?"

Gael nods her head. The tree allows itself to think on it. A name? Did it want one? After a while, the tree agrees, it would love to have a name. It is a gift from Gael. To have a name, freely given, is a gift.

Sea, ba mhaith liom. Yes, I would.

Gael twerks her mouth, as she is thinking. Then, a small smile breaks across her face. "Maire. Máthair Maire." Maire. Mother Maire.

Maire, the tree thinks to itself as Gael falls asleep against it. An invisible warmth surrounds Gael as she sleeps. The tree plays with the word, over and over again. If the Tree could smile, it would.

Maire, it thinks once more. Finally, the Tree thinks, I have been claimed.