I'm back! Wow that was fast. A little too dang fast... No, I'm just kidding! This is a nice long chapter, so I hope you like it! Popo is THRILLED with how many clicks he recieved! Popo even LEFT A REVIEW! AHH! That's amazing! Lol.

Thank you everyone for the really nice reviews! I loved every single one of them and I'm just so happy right now! lol.

So I figured that it was time for a hunt, since the boys haven't really had one in a while... It's not very long, just a little story arc. Then, after that... Well I had some aftermath with it, and not too long after, I stopped! So I have to start thinking of what to do next. But thanks to reviews and such, I already have a few ideas. YES.

So here's the next chapter. I STILL don't own Supernatural. Oh, and Switchburg is a fake town. (if anyone was wondering) I just hope there's not a real one... lol, at least not in virginia...

please enjoy!

After the long trip to Virginia, Dean maneuvered the Impala through Switchburg. It was a nice little town, from what Sam could tell. It was comfortably secluded—not out in the middle of nowhere or surrounded by big cities. Just a quiet equilibrium.

Dean seemed to know the town pretty well. His eyes were blank, though, as if lost in thought. Before Sam could ask him about it, though, they pulled into a small driveway that led to a tiny house. It was pretty, with a white picket fence and flower beds in front of the house that probably would've been filled to the brim with blooming plants if it had only been spring. It looked so…normal. Sam found it so…interesting.

Dean looked over to his brother, instantly knowing what he was thinking. "This place…drives me insane with its normality," he remarked dryly, before climbing out of his car.

Sam and Dean both made their way to the front door, but before they could even make it halfway there, the door flung open.

Sam, hunter's instincts flaring, stopped in his tracks. He knew it. It was too normal.

But out of the house, little dark-blond curls streaming, sprinted a little girl. She must have been only four or five years old—cute too.

"Uncle Dean!" she announced happily, running up to Dean and hugging his legs tightly.

Sam choked back a laugh. "'Uncle Dean'?!" he snorted.

Dean frowned at his brother. He then turned to the girl and patted her on the head. "Okay, okay, I missed you too, Emma." He jerked a thumb over in Sam's direction. "That's my baby brother, Sammy."

Emma walked slowly up to Sam and looked up, up, up even higher to finally reach his face with her wide blue eyes. "Wow!" she exclaimed in awe. "You're so big Mr. Sammy! Can you touch the clouds?"

Dean chuckled at Sam's face after being called mister and Sammy. He then came up to Emma from behind and scooped her up, making her squeal in delight. "His head is in the clouds, all right."

"Mommy said that you'd come today! I got up real early and waited!"

"Wow," Dean told her. "But hey, I don't think your mommy would like it when she sees you ran outside without any shoes on."

Emma wriggled her toes. "S'okay! My feet'll get warmed up when I go back inside!" She smiled up at Dean, but then her smile began to fade. "Uncle Dean, are you here because of Julie? All the kids at school say that a monster got her!" Her little face scrunched up and she looked away. "Is it the monster that took Daddy away?"

Dean shook his head. "No," he told her. "No, I got rid of that monster, remember?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah… But why did a monster take away Julie? She was my bestest friend…"

Dean didn't know how to answer that, but wiped a stray tear from Emma's face with his thumb. "Don't worry about it, okay? I'll fix it."

Emma smiled again, and looked to Sam. "Last time, Uncle Dean got rid of the monster in my closet!" she pronounced proudly. "I was really scared… And I thought it was going to eat me and Mommy. My mommy was really scared too… She cried a lot. But Uncle Dean came and made it go away! He can do anything!"

"Whoa, don't get too ahead of yourself, kiddo." He began back towards the house again. "Come on, let's go find your mom." He and Sam reached the door, and Dean peered inside. "Patricia?"

"Come on in!" a voice called back.

Dean stepped inside and put Emma down, noticing the smirk that was plastered all over Sam's face. He glared at his brother. "What?!"

"It's just really funny," Sam commented. "It's like you're a successful father coming home for work… Except you're Uncle Dean. Uncle… Uncle, haha."

"Hey, at least I'm not Mr. Sammy!" Dean shot back irritably. "It sounds like you're a sexual predator or something!" He hissed on a lower note, so Emma wouldn't hear him.

A woman came up to them, her hair color matching her daughter's, but instead of blue eyes, hers shone a pretty shade of green. She looked like she was in her late thirties or so. "Dean, God, I'm glad you could come." She looked over to Sam, nodding. "And this must be your brother…ah…"

"Sam," Sam introduced, shaking her hand. "And I gotta say, the last thing I expected when I came here was when your little girl called my brother Uncle Dean."

Patricia smiled and led them into what appeared to be a kitchen. "Yes… After Dean helped us with the thing that was in Emma's closet, she saw him as her hero. She just began to call him her uncle right out of the blue." She offered the brothers a drink, and both gratefully accepted. "But I guess you've been busy, right? I've tried calling you before, but you didn't answer."

Dean frowned. He never really checked his phone that often, so it was possible that he had gotten a couple of missed calls… He should have checked it sooner. "Sorry," he apologized.

Patricia shook her head. "It's okay. Nobody's been killed or anything since then."

Emma was bouncing up and down with excitement, not listening to the conversation. "Uncle Dean's back, Uncle Dean's back," she sang. "I'm so happy! All of Uncle Dean's ouchies are gone!"

Sam glanced at her for a fleeting moment.

"So what happened with this girl?" Dean asked, bringing Sam back to their conversation.

"Julie was one of Emma's friends. A few weeks ago, Julie was over at Sophie's house for a sleepover—oh, Sophie is another one of Emma's friends. While the girls were there, something attacked them and killed Julie… Sophie's father tried to help them, but he didn't get there in time…" Patricia shook her head sadly, and then lowered her voice. "I heard that the poor girl was ripped to shreds, as if whatever attacked her was a wild animal or something. I just thought it was something you could handle."

Dean nodded slowly. "Okay… So I think we should start by talking with Sophie. Maybe she knows what happened."

"Oh, you guys just got here. You both look beat. Why don't you take a rest first? There are two guest rooms upstairs that you can use."

Sam nodded gratefully. "Thank you…" And he led the way upstairs, not giving Dean the chance to argue. When they went upstairs, they did find two empty rooms, right next to each other.

"Which one do you want?" Dean asked, his voice impassive.

Sam shrugged. "Doesn't matter." His face lit up with a mischievous smile. "Man, I wish I could've seen the look on your face when that little girl first called you Uncle Dean!"

"Just shove it, okay? It's not my problem. The thing that killed that other little girl—that's my problem. I don't want to see another one of your friggin' smirks while we're here, okay?" Dean eased open the door on the left. "Beat it, Mr. Sammy. Two hours of rest, then we go to Sophie's house."

Sam scowled, hoping this new nickname wouldn't stick. "It's just Sam…," he grumbled as Dean closed the door in his face.

Sam awoke about an hour later to the creaking of his door. He cracked open one eye and watched the door open, then stop. He didn't see anyone come in, but he heard shuffling. It was on the floor, whatever it was. And he couldn't see the floor from where he was.

Quietly, he pushed himself up, so he could see what was making that noise.

His muscles instantly relaxed when he saw Emma crawling across the room.

"Emma," he said.

She jumped and stared at him. "Ah, ah, Mr. Sammy, I'm sorry. I left my Barbie's shoe in here and I needed it…" She looked down. "Sorry."

Sam smiled at her. "It's okay, I don't mind." He was silent for a moment, and then, "Hey, Emma, come up here for a second, will you? I have a question to ask."

Emma, puzzled, hopped onto the bed and waited.

"You said before that all of Dean's…uh, 'ouchies'…were gone."

Emma nodded. "Yep."

"Did Dean come here with lots of…'ouchies' the last time he was here?"

Emma nodded once more. "Uncle Dean had lots of ouchies. Mommy thought he was a…a…um…dumb."

"A dumb?" Sam repeated, confused.

Emma shook her head, realizing that wasn't right. "She thought he was a…bum. A bum."

Sam couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, a bum."

"He had ouchies on his arms and his hands and his knees. And he wasn't even crying!"

Sam bit his lip worriedly.

"And then Uncle Dean saved us from the monster! The monster went like whoosh!" She threw her hands up into the air. "And he made all the furniture come alive! The furniture was bad and tried to hurt me and Mommy, but Uncle Dean protected us! But then Uncle Dean went boom! and the monster ran away and the furniture turned good again."

"Did Dean tell you what the monster was?"

"Yep! He told Mommy that it was a poker ghost!"

Sam creased his eyebrows in confusion. "A poker ghost? Do you mean just a plain ghost?"

Emma shook her head. "No! Uncle Dean said poker ghost."

Sam was about to question her again, but the little girl went on.

"Uncle Dean got lotsa bruises from fighting the poker ghost, but I helped him! I put ice on them and said that he was a good boy because he didn't cry!"

Sam smiled. "Well, thank you for telling me, Emma."

Emma climbed off the bed and picked up something from the floor. "Barbie's shoe!" She waved to Sam before leaving. "Have a good sleepy, Mr. Sammy!"

A little over an hour later, Dean got directions to Sophie's house, and he and Sam got into the car and began to drive there. It was only five or ten minutes away.

"So, Dean," Sam began. "What did you hunt last time you were here?"

Dean gave him a why is that important? look.

"Hey, man, I'm just curious."

"It was a poltergeist. Pretty damn nasty one, too."

The second the words left Dean's mouth, Sam realized. Poker ghost, he thought with an inward laugh. Little kids have a language of their own.

When the brothers arrived at Sophie's house, he and Sam met Peter Hammerstone, who was Sophie's father.

"We're investigating the murder," Dean said in his most official voice, to a man who looked like he was well in his forties. "And we were wondering if you could tell us what happened."

Peter shook his head wearily. "I honestly don't know for sure. I had just put the girls to sleep… And the next thing I knew, they were screaming. By the time I got to them, whoever did it was gone, and little Julie was…" He looked off into the distance, a sigh falling from his lips. "I can't believe this would happen… We only just moved in a few months ago, and already…" His voice trailed off.

"Is it possible to talk with your daughter?" Sam asked gently.

Peter was silent for a moment. "I don't know if she'll want to talk—she's been so quiet lately. But you can try. She's over there, on the swing set." He raised a hand to point a long finger in the direction of the swing set, where Sam and Dean could see a little blond-haired girl, sitting on the swing, rocking back and forth.

Dean nodded his thanks to the man, and he and Sam went over to Sophie.

Dean crouched down beside the swing. "Hey, Sophie."

The little girl looked up, hazel eyes looking eerily haunted for one so young. "…I…I know you…"

Dean's eyebrows creased. "You do?"

Sophie nodded. "You were at my school. I saw you come to get Emma… You're her uncle Dean, right? She says that you're really nice."

Dean cleared his throat nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, I, uh…"

Sam smiled, but got back on the original subject. "Sophie, can you tell us what happened to your friend a few weeks ago?"

Sophie looked down, and bit her lip. "I-I just wanted to have a sleepover with Julie. It was supposed to be fun… Like when the older girls have sleepovers. But when it got dark out, this-this monster came and hurt Julie! It was too scary, and I hid in the closet. When I came back out, the monster was gone, and-and Julie was-was…" She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the swing.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologized. "We're just trying to find out what happened, so we can make sure that it doesn't happen again. Thank you very much for telling us. You did a good job."

Sophie nodded slowly. "I'm just scared. The monster… It won't go away! It always comes back! Daddy says it'll go away, but…"

"Sophie," Peter said, and Sam and Dean turned to look at him.

Sophie fell silent.

"What is she talking about?" Dean asked.

Peter shook his head. "She's been having nightmares since that night. She thinks that the 'monster' will keep coming after her… But please… I think she's had enough."

The brothers nodded, and then left.

Sam typed search inquiries into the laptop as fast as he could. The tapping of the keyboard was about to drive Dean up the wall, and it had only been ten minutes. Sam was sitting at a desk in Patricia's living room, and Dean had made himself comfortable in the nearby chair. He felt a little awkward just sitting there watching Sam. He wanted to at least be cleaning his guns or sharpening his knives, but he wouldn't do that with Emma around.

"What do you think it could be?" Sam wondered. "It must be some sort of creature… Like Daevas or something along those lines? I mean, from what we've heard so far, this girl was pretty torn up."

"No, we probably would have heard if the heart was missing, right? And besides, you know Daevas need to be summoned by someone else. And the fact that Sophie seemed to have seen whatever killed Julie—maybe even more than once."

Sam sighed. "Yeah… I know… Just a thought."

Dean massaged his temples, trying to will away his headache. "Yeah, I know, Sam…"

Emma then hopped into the room—the girl sure seemed to like bouncing—and climbed up on Dean's lap. "Whatcha doing?"

Sam couldn't help but smile. He really did think Emma was cute. And the way she looked up to Dean was really cute too.

"Trying to find out what this thing is," Dean replied. "So we can make it go away."

Emma frowned. "Are you okay, Uncle Dean? You don't look right." She was then struck with an idea. "I know! You need to smile more, Uncle Dean. Mommy says it's good for you."

Dean really couldn't think of smiling at that moment, but tried anyway.

Emma shook her head, easily seeing that it was a fake. "Not like that!" She wriggled her fingers and tried to tickle Dean, to hopefully make him laugh. She tickled him furiously, but when she looked up to his face to check her progress, she was shocked to see that there was no change. "No fair!" she exclaimed. "You're not ticklish!"

Dean smiled for real this time, amused by Emma's frustration. "I'm not, but I know you are." And he began to tickle her in return, and kept tickling until Emma squealed with laughter.

"Uncle Dean! Stop it!" she squealed.

"Hey, you guys!" Patricia called from the other room. "Dinner's ready!"

Dean finally stopped tickling Emma, and picked her up, motioning for Sam to follow him into the kitchen.

Sam stared at him for a moment. Dean—his brother, Dean—holding a little kid, playing around with a little kid. It was so weird to see something like that. It really was almost like he was a father. Dean probably would make a good father, Sam decided.

But what was strange though, was that over the past few hours, all it had really been was normality. Sam was beginning to feel a little awkward. He was good with normal, sure, but it sure was a change of pace. And he knew that Dean hated it much more than he did. Normality was something Sam could handle, something he accepted. But Dean?

Sam sat down at the table. On the plate in front of his was pork chops, mashed potatoes, and some corn. Sam couldn't help but smirk at his brother across the table. "Hey, do you even know what this is?" He pointed to his plate. "This is what's really considered healthy. This is real food."

Dean glared at him. "Yeah, Sam, I know that."

"Oh! Mommy! Today in school, we learned all about animals!" Emma announced happily. "We learned about tigers and bears and fishes and woofs and—"

"Wolves, honey," Patricia corrected.

Emma nodded in agreement. "Yeah, woofs. But my favorite was when we talked about birdies!" And she went on to explain what she had learned.

Sam chewed on a bite of pork chop—which was really good, by the way—thoughtfully. Let's see. It must be some creature… The last attack was back in December, a few weeks ago. So maybe… Well, if I knew when Julie was attacked… He looked up again. "Mrs. Wilson, do you know what date it was when Julie was killed?"

Patricia thought about it for a moment, but then said, "I'm pretty sure it was December fifth. Though I didn't even know about it until the next week…"

"That was a night with a full moon," Sam stated, sure of himself.

Dean shot him a look from across the table. "So, what, a werewolf? And you know it was a full moon that night just off the top of your head?"

"And this is why I know the lunar cycle," Sam stated, somewhat defensively. "It's gotta be a werewolf… And if I'm right, then whoever it is will transform again on"—Sam paused for a moment—"January third."

Dean shook his head. "That's tomorrow, Sammy."

"Wait a minute," Patricia interrupted, eyes wide. "You're trying to tell me that you think this is a werewolf? An actual werewolf?"

"Yes…," Sam drew out slowly. "Do you know if anything like this has happened before, Mrs. Wilson?"

Patricia blinked a few times, looking flustered. "Well…not that I know of, no… There was a missing person back in October that was never found, but other than that… I mean…" She ran a hand through her hair. "Other than that, I can't think of anything…" She sighed. "First the poltergeist and now this…"

Dean looked off to the left, deep in thought. He then glanced at Patricia. "When we talked to Peter Hammerstone, he mentioned that he had moved in a few months ago. When exactly was that?"

"Um, August, I think," Patricia replied. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"Think about it," Sam said, picking up on what his brother was thinking. "Julie was at Sophie's house the night she was murdered. And Peter said that he couldn't get there in time to save Julie—which could've been a cover-up. He probably transformed once the full moon came out, and had unknowingly attacked Julie. He probably would have attacked his own daughter if she wasn't hiding."

"He probably doesn't even know that he's a werewolf," Dean mumbled. He paused, and then frowned. "Hey, Em, why don't you go off and play?"

Emma gave him a toothy grin and bounced out of her chair and left the room.

Patricia stared after her daughter, and then her eyes returned to Dean's. "I don't know how you do it."

Dean's eyebrows creased in confusion. "Do what?"

"When it comes to 'grown-up' conversations, Emma can be such a pain to get rid of. Not to mention that she hates when anyone calls her 'Em'. She only lets you call her that." She shook her head. "I just don't know how you do it."

Dean looked down. "I don't know either."

Sam gave his brother an amused smile. "Come on, man, you're obviously the kid's hero."

Dean snorted. "I didn't do that much. But she should be out of the room anyway…" He cleared his throat. "But anyway, if Peter really is the werewolf, then when he transforms tomorrow, he could hurt someone else—like Sophie."

"It sounded like Sophie knew about this when she was talking before. This monster that keeps coming back could just be her father transforming every month," Sam pointed out. "Maybe she knows that she has to hide."

"Well, that doesn't matter. We have to go there when Peter transforms and…," Dean's voice trailed off.

Sam bit his lip. "Yeah… I guess we do."

Dean clenched his fists. "I hate it when this happens," he said in disgust. He pushed himself out of his chair. "Excuse me." And he left the room, until all Sam could hear was his brother's retreating footsteps.

"Are you sure that Peter is this…a…werewolf?" Patricia asked Sam, looking uncertain.

Sam gave a half-hearted shrug. "To be completely honest, I'm not one hundred percent sure. But it looks like it." He rubbed his chin, thinking about the matter on hand. "Mrs. Wilson—"

"Please," Patricia began, cutting him off. "Your brother is like a part of the family, which means you are too. Please call me Patricia."

Sam smiled warmly. "Okay. Patricia… Do you happen to have Peter's phone number?"

Patricia nodded. "Yes, I do."

Sam took out his cell phone. "Can you please give it to me?"

Patricia did so, and Sam punched in the number promptly and held his phone to his ear.

"Hello?" answered Peter's voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Mr. Hammerstone. This is Sam Hamill. My partner and I came to your house today about the investigation of Julie Ridgebrook's death. I just need to ask you a question or two."

There was a sigh. Then, "Shoot."

"I'd like to know if anyone came to see you that day… Any suspicious-looking people, or…"

"Um, no, no one came over. We live out in the middle of nowhere, so people don't usually come by. Of course, Julie came, and her mother dropped her off. But that was it."

Sam nodded to himself. "And you didn't hear anything the night Julie was killed? You didn't hear someone breaking in?"

"My house in very small," Peter replied. "I hear everything that's going on. The only thing I heard that night was Julie's scream." There was a long pause. "I must have missed something… But I didn't hear anything else… God…"

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Hammerstone. Don't worry about this, we'll figure it out," Sam assured him. And after saying goodbye, Sam hung up.

He looked over to Patricia. "It could have been anyone else… It's got to be him. I'm sorry."

Patricia's eyes widened. "So you have to… You have to kill him?"

Sam took a deep breath and held it for a second. "We really try to avoid killing people, we really do. But he's a werewolf. Maybe if we had more time… But if we don't do what we have to, he'll probably end up killing a lot of people."

Patricia looked down. "…I understand…"

See? Fast hunt, fast hunt. Lol. Emma was actually inspired by a little girl I know. I always thought of her when I think "I have to write a four year old" (except now that girl is almost six...uh... oh well... lol)

Please leave a review. I get really happy when I get them. (I got over thirty emails today, and was SHOCKED. most of them obviously from here, reviews, story alert plusses and such) It's awesome because I don't really get emails from anyone or anywhere else. Damn it, I must not get enough comments on myspace. lol.

Anyway, Popo wants to get clicked again!

I hope to update soon, but it might not be for a few days. It won't be too long, I promise!

Popo: clickie clickie!