Trigger Warning: the plot-line of the next two chapters deals with sensitive issues such as race, religion, and politics. Please keep any reviews civil or PM me if you feel any of these topics were handled distastefully; I am always open to polite and logical discourse.
As always:
xoxo thanks for reading!

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Scarlett was up before the rest of the house that morning, aside from her cousin Spencer.

"Morning, Spence; you're up early."

"Mm. Work." He mumbled and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Oooh, I've never seen you in your uniform!" Scarlett teased and filled up her own mug.

"You're such a dork."

"I'm just proud of you!" Scarlett smiled and pinched her cousin's cheek. "Little paramedic, saving lives and shit."

"Yeah, not so much lately."

"What do you mean?"

"There's been a lot of shootings downtown. Like once a week for the past month."

"What? Do they know who?"

"Nah, they ifn't find any shells and no witnesses can place the shooter." Spencer took a sip of his coffee. "All off-duty cops, too."

"A serial killer?"

"Looks like."

"Man, first that one in Daytona killing those hookers, now this? Glad I moved."

"You moved to the Pacific Northwest...that's like the serial killer capital of the US."

"You guys talking serial killers this early?" Dean asked as he and Sam appeared from the stairwell.

"Good morning." Scarlett smiled.

"Morning." The boys nodded.

"Yeah, I was telling Scar about the influx of gunshot victims we've gotten at work."

"What do you do?" Sam asked Spencer.

"EMS."

"Ah. So why do you think it's a serial killer?" Dean asked.

"Well, they're all cops."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah, they haven't released that to the press though; probably because the cases are so weird."

"Weird?" Sam asked.

"Well, they've all happened downtown surrounded by people but no witnesses saw a shooter."

"Sniper?" Dean offered.

"Shots all came from within four feet of the victims." Spencer shook his head. "And there's never any shells or other casualties."

Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"All they really know is that someone out there fuckin' hates the Sanford Police Department." Spencer finished his coffee. "Well, gotta finish getting ready; shift starts in 30."

"Okay, well, be careful." Scarlett called after her cousin as he ran up stairs.

"So, what do you think?" Sam asked his brother.

"Worth looking into."

"You guys think it's something supernatural?"

"Could be a spirit from the sounds of it. Maybe we should take a drive downtown and check it out."

"Definitely." Sam agreed.

"I don't know," Scarlett shrugged, "it's not really outlandish to think a live person would be targeting the cops here."

"Why's that?"

"Look, this is the south; the schools I went to here...the neighborhoods surrounding them; let's just say that there are parts of Sanford where police response-times are longer than their distance from the station should suggest and most of the time not having them show up is probably a blessing."

"But it's 2006." Dean said.

"And?" Scarlett rolled her eyes.

"And I didn't think shit like that still happened."

"Careful, dude; your privilege is showing." Sam half-teased.

"Racism is very much alive and well; especially around here." Scarlett agreed.

"We get so caught up in terrible monsters and demons...sometimes I forget humans can be terrible all on their own." Sam said sadly.

"Just a different type of monster." Dean shook his head. "All that considered, I still think we better be sure."

"You're the boss." Scarlett shrugged. "Help yourself to anything in the fridge, I'm gonna go get ready."

"Before you go; is there any way I could use your uncle's computer? We should look up who's running the station before we head over there." Sam asked.

"Sure; password is usually 'Meatloaf1!'." Scarlett left the boys to shower and change.

"So what should I do?" Scarlett asked as they pulled up to the manila-colored cement building off Goldsboro/W13th St.

"Wait here." Dean insisted.

"So boring." Scarlett sighed as the boys got out and headed inside.

"Hello, how can I help you boys today?" An elderly woman at reception asked.

"Department of Law Enforcement." Dean said as he and Sam flashed fake badges. "With Internal Affairs."

"Oh, I'll get the Lieutenant." She walked off.

"Thank you." Sam smiled.

"Gentleman?" A burly looking man walked up to the brothers.

"Lieutenant." Dean nodded and held up his 'badge'. "I'm Special Agent O'Connell and this is my partner, Special Agent Kirk;" Sam held up his 'badge', "We're with the Department of Law Enforcement: Orlando." Dean shook his hand.

"I'm-" The Lieutenant started.

"Lieutenant Dimitri Toussaint." Sam shook his hand.

"Yes." Lieutenant Toussaint said. "Why don't you follow me into my office." He lead them to the back of the building. "So I.A.'s on this, huh? You really think one of our own is a cop-killer?"

"Well, we don't know what to think yet; but we gotta get ahead of this before the damn press catches wind." Dean said.

"Whoever it is needs to be brought to justice." Sam added.

"Amen to that, brother." Agreed the Lieutenant and they all took a seat in his office. "So what do you need from me? We're still writing up reports ourselves."

"We'll take a list of the witnesses and anything you have on possible street or business cameras at the scene." Sam said.

"And anything connecting the vics, other than being Officers." Dean added.

The Lieutenant pressed the intercom button on his phone. "Jan, go down to evidence and get a copy of the CK case footage DVD's; then bring them here, please."

"Yes, sir."

"As for the witness list, I've been handling this case personally." Lieutenant Toussaint pulled out a case file from his desk. "Go ahead and copy it." He handed it over to Sam, who was ready with a note pad and pen.

"And connections?" Dean asked.

"Well, all three were recently graduated Cadets and they were legacies; there's been a Butler, Hughes, or Wiggins serving this department since 1892."

"Interesting; any other legacies in this precinct?" Sam asked.

"None that I'm aware of."

"Okay, can we get a list of all your newest recruits."

"Sure." The Lieutenant paged Jan again.

"Alright then, we'll let you know if we need anything else." Dean said as he got up.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Sam added.

"Anything to catch this son of a bitch. Jan will have everything you need at her desk out front." They all got up. "Good luck, Agents."

"You too, Lieutenant." Sam said and they all shook hands again.

" How'd it go?" Scarlett asked as the boy's got back in the Impala.

"Turns out all the victims are part of a family dynasty of local cops." Dean said.

"And they're all rookies; we got a list of new-hires." Sam added.

"Oh, let me see; maybe I know someone."

Sam handed Scarlett the list.

"Hm…" Scarlett Scanned the list for a familiar name. "Ah, I went to Seminole with Bobby Terwilliger; he's a sweetie, he'd talk with-" Scarlett's eyes rolled to the back of her head.

"Henrietta, love of my life, in a world full of darkness you are the light that guides my path;" a middle-aged man stands at the head of a long dinner table filled with people holding up a glass to the woman at his right, "I am so thankful that, 25 years ago today, you made me the happiest man on this earth by becoming my wife. May God bless us with 25 more."
The table coos and there are a few 'Amen's as they all clink glasses. Henrietta stands up to give the man a kiss and whispers an 'I love you'.
"Don't you sit down now, Henry. You still hafta carve the turkey 'fore everyone here forgets it's also Thanksgiving." Henrietta teases and the group laughs along with her.
The jovial buzz comes to a stop at the sound of glass breaking in the next room.
"What the…?" Henry gets up to go check the living room when a chorus of windows breaking echos around the house.
Bricks and molotov cocktails fly through the house and the party breaks out into a panic.
Henry darts to the phone and calls 911 while Henrietta gathers their guests and herds them out the back door. A large group of people in white hoods are waiting outside with rifles, singing and closing in on the family...

"Scarlett?" Sam's voice called through her vision.

Dean climbed into the back-seat with her.

A pale blue cracker house goes up in flames and in the live oak trees surrounding it hang the lifeless bodies of men, women, and children; alike only in skin-tone and bullet wounds. A flaming cross is pitched in the front yard and haunting hymns sound in the distance. Two police cars arrive to the scene after the singing fades out. The squad cars pause in front of the pile of ash that was once a home, no officer gets out, and then both units drive away.

"What did you see?" Dean asked as Scarlett came to.

"They killed them all; even the kids...and no one came." Scarlett started to cry.

Dean wrapped his arms around Scarlett and rubbed her back as she continued to sob into his chest; she knew that the images in that vision would plague her forever.

"Henry and Henrietta...I know those names sound familiar." Scarlett's mind spun trying to make sense out of the senseless act she'd seen in her vision.

"Well, let's see what Terwilliger knows about his recruit-mates. There's gotta be a fourth victim if you saw two squad cars." Dean said, trying to keep Scarlett focused on the present.

"You're sure he lives here?" Sam asked as the Impala pulled up to a pastel-yellow, three-story, foursquare-craftsman style house on 3rd Street.

"If he doesn't, they'll know where he is; the Terwilliger family has lived here for generations."

"You don't say, maybe Bobby T. is our legacy." Sam said.

"Nah, his dad's a lawyer, his grandad's retired Navy, and his great-grandad was a preacher." Scarlett informed them.

"You sure know his family history well." Dean grumbled.

"Everyone in Sanford knows the Terwilligers." Scarlett shrugged and they walked up the porch to the front door.

Sam rang the doorbell and it chimed with a familiar vintage tune; Dean rolled his eyes.

A Stepford-looking brunette woman answered the door. "May I help you?"

"Hi, Mrs. Terwilliger." Scarlett stepped forward. "We were looking for Bobby, is he available?"

"Why, Scarlett Hart, is that you?" The woman asked in a pleasant mild-tone.

"Yes, ma'am." Scarlett smiled.

"Oh, aren't you just as darling as ever! Come on in, Bobby's in the kitchen having lunch." She ushered them inside. "Wipe your feet." She instructed. "Bobby, you have some visitors." Mrs. Terwilliger announced as they followed her into the kitchen. "Scarlett Hart and...my word, where are my manners? I didn't get your names." She looked to the brothers.

"Sam."

"And Dean."

"Winchester." Scarlett added.

"Winchester…Edward's boys?"

"Different Winchesters." Scarlett said.

"Oh well, have you three eaten? I could whip you up something quick."

Dean's eyes lit up. "I'd love-"

Sam elbowed him in the side. "We're fine, thank you Mrs. Terwilliger." Sam smiled.

"Alright then, I'll let you kids catch up." She smiled and left the kitchen.

"Wow, hey Scarlett." Bobby finally had a moment to say hello.

"Hi Bobby, long time no see." They hugged.

"Yeah, not since...chem II, Mr. Piltch." He laughed.

"Hah, yeah. That's right."

"So, not to be rude, but what brings you by?"

"Well, um, I heard you just graduated the police academy and were hired at the Sanford Police Department, congratulations by the way."

"Thank you." He nodded.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you could tell us a bit about your classmates."

"What for?"

"Oh, um, Sam's writing an article for Sanford 365°." Scarlett improvised.

"Yeah, uh, Scarlett was telling us how...historically connected your family is to the town and I thought it would make good human interest piece." Sam expanded on the lie.

"New Generation of Sanford's Historic and Heroic Families." Dean fed him a fake headline.

"Yeah, so just a little about what The Terwilligers do for the community and any other recently graduated cadets whose families might be historically notable."

"Hm, well I can tell you who's got the oldest local families at the precinct...but my mom's probably who you want to talk to about Terwilliger family history."

"Okay, I'll take those names." Sam got out his notepad.

"Did I hear you kids talking Terwilliger family history?" Mrs. Terwilliger popped back into the kitchen from around the corner.

"Oh...yeah." Dean nodded.

"Well," Mrs. Terwilliger linked arms with Dean, "while Bobby talks with your brother; let me bend your ear about the Terwilliger's long history of philanthropy and…" Her voice trailed and she pulled Dean away.

Dean looked back over his shoulder to Scarlett for rescue, but she just sniggered and waved as Mrs. Terwilliger lead him into the sitting room.

"Unfortunately the list of new officers with long Sanford histories is getting shorter every week." Bobby said gravely.

"Yeah; Spencer told me about those cadets. I'm so sorry, Bobby." Scarlett said.

"You know...we all know the risk we take when we put on that uniform, but when you're just walking around, shopping with your family...a civilian like everyone else…" Bobby looked to his chest. "I grew up with Charlie Butler...he is a- was a good guy. He would have been a great officer."

Scarlett reached out, squeezed Bobby Terwilliger's shoulder, and stroked his arm.

Bobby sniffed and looked up at Sam with a stiff upper lip. "Tyler Walker's grandpa was also on the Sanford police-force. He lives down Henry T. Morris Avenue. Two-story redbrick house, nice white wrap around porch. You can't miss it."

"Henry T. Morris…" Scarlett looked to Sam.

"Yeah, you know; right past 25th Street." Bobby T. said.

"Thank you, Bobby." Sam nodded.

"It was good to see you, Bobby." Scarlett gave him another hug.

"You better go get your friend before my mom pulls out great-gran's old photo albums." Bobby smiled. "He'll be in that chair for the next three days." They all chuckled and went to retrieve Dean. "Mom, they gotta go." Bobby announced.

"Oh, so soon?" Mrs. Terwilliger sighed.

"I wish I could stay, but printer deadlines and whatnot." Dean shrugged and quickly got up.

"Sanford 365° is a blog." Scarlett said with a smirk.

"Shut. Up." Dean whispered through a smile.

"Oh, well. Scarlett it was lovely to see you again, dear." Mrs. Terwilliger got up and gave Scarlett a kiss on each cheek.

"You too, Mrs. Terwilliger."

"Thank you for all the help." Sam said as they all left the Terwilliger's house.

"So I know how I know 'Henry and Henrietta'." Scarlett said as the trio returned to the Impala.

"Henry T. Morris is the Henry from your vision?" Sam asked.

"Who is Henry T. Morris and how does Sam know him but I don't?" Dean asked.

"First of all, head up to 25th Street." Scarlett directed. "Then make a left on Henry T. Morris Ave."

"Henry is a Street?" Dean asked.

"Henry Morris founded the first Florida branch of the NAACP in Seminole county." Scarlett explained. "I remember learning about him and his wife at Midway."

"Midway?" Sam asked.

"My elementary school; anyway: Henry and Henrietta's house was firebombed on their wedding anniversary; just like in my vision."

"Wow, they taught that to you in elementary school?" Sam asked.

"We learned a lot about Sanford and Florida history throughout elementary up to high school. Henry and Henrietta were both teachers at Crooms: the first high school in Seminole County for black students. Henry was the first NAACP official murdered in the Civil Rights Movement. He fought for equal pay for black teachers in public schools, investigated lynchings, filed lawsuits against white primaries, increased black voter registration in Florida to be the highest out of any other southern state...he was a warrior for civil rights."

"He needs a statue, not a street name." Dean concluded.

"But it couldn't be his spirit doing this…"

"Why not? If anyone deserved vengeance-" Dean started.

"All of their bodies were eventually burned." Scarlett said.

"So what? Just a coincidence you had that vision?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Scarlett admitted.

"Well hopefully this Tyler Walker guy will be some help."

When they pulled up to Tyler's house they heard screaming.

"Stay in the car." Dean said to Scarlett.

Sam and Dean both pulled out handguns from under their seats and cautiously headed towards the house; Scarlett followed.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked in a harsh whisper. "I said 'stay in the car'."

"Yeah, I heard you." Scarlett whispered back and continued to follow them up the porch.

Dean groaned and motioned for Sam to stay west of the front door.

"Go look through the side window, then." Dean said quietly.

"Fine." Scarlett agreed.

"Hello?" Dean knocked at the door. "Everything okay in there?"

The screaming continued, but footsteps came towards the front door from inside.

Sam cocked his gun and stood with his back flat up against the wall.

"Yeah?" A sandy-haired young man answered the door, unarmed and unphased by the screaming behind him.

"Uh…" Dean didn't know how to respond to the situation.

"Hey, Tyler?" Scarlett came skipping up the porch.

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm Scarlett, Bobby Terwilliger's friend." She said cheerily.

Dean looked to Sam who shrugged and put his gun away and stepped into view.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, we're doing a story for Sanford 365° about the new cadets. We were wondering if we could get an interview?"

"Oh, sure. Come on in."

They followed Tyler into his house. An old man sat in a La-Z-Boy recliner, groaning.

"Sorry about papaw, he's havin' one of his episodes." Tyler said nonchalantly.

"What's wrong with him?" Dean asked and Sam punched him in the shoulder.

"Nah, it's ok." Tyler said to Sam. "Nothin's wrong with him's the matter."

"What do you mean?"

"He gits these headaches 'n starts yellin'. Doc' says ain't nothin' serious. No strokes er seizures. Jus' screamin'. Anyway, he'll stop in a minute; jus' ignore 'im." They all took a seat in the living room. "So, whatcha wanna know?"

"Well, we heard you're the second generation to become an officer for the Sanford Police department." Scarlett said. "Was that something your grandfather wanted for you?"

"Hell naw!" Tyler scoffed. "Papaw begged me not ta go into the police academy."

"Really?" Sam leaned in.

"Yeah, he was barely in himself. Quit after his first call." Tyler shook his head.

"Why's that?" Scarlett asked.

"Said it won't the type a job he wanted ta be doin'." Tyler shrugged. "Even still...I thought he'd at least be proud a me fer wantin' ta do it. Hell, he didn't even stay til the end of my graduation ceremony."

"That sucks." Dean sympathized.

"Yeah, I gotta think it's 'cause a these episodes, though."

"In what way?" Sam pressed.

"Well he started havin' 'em pretty much right after. They make 'im angry. 'Tween you an' me? I think them doctors are quacks. He's definitely got somethin' wrong with his brain, maybe dementia."

Tyler's pocket vibrated and he pulled out a pager.

"Ohp, that's the station; gotta motor." Tyler said.

"Alright, well thanks for your time." Scarlett said as she and the boys got up to leave.

"That was weird." Sam said when they got back in the car.

"Definitely." Scarlett agreed.

Dean shushed them and turned on his police scanner.

"10-33 all units to 206 West 15th Street; 10-30 possible 10-32; Repeat: 10-33-" Dean switched off the radio.

"What's that mean?" Scarlett asked.

"Someone's been shot."