AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for your patience on this chapter. I have the rest of the story finished, it just needs some minor fixes. I hope you enjoy the backstory of the Oniijaani as much as I did when I discovered it!


When they returned to the room, Sam jumped up, looking half asleep and disoriented. "Did you find her?" Tiffany raised her hand in awkward greeting. Dean walked straight past without a word. Sam looked from one to the other.. "Whatever. Tell me in the morning," he said before collapsing onto the bed.

Tiffany slipped into the bathroom. As she brushed her teeth, she glanced in the mirror. Her reflection looked positively smug. She had to hold back a giggle. Things might get weird between them, but for now she was counting it worth the risk.

After she scrubbed the dirt from her feet, she debated what to sleep in. First she changed into the oversized t-shirt she usually slept in, then wondered if it would be better to sleep in her day clothes. Eventually she decided on the t-shirt with some workout pants for modesty.

Dean was on the sofa watching television when she came out. The flickering screen lit up his face in the dark room. She sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him. "Aren't you going to get some sleep?" He held a finger to his lips and pointed at Sam, as if to say quiet, or you'll wake him. She rolled her eyes.

"I just slept for two straight days, remember?" his voice was low and raspy. "Besides, somebody has to make sure you don't take a midnight stroll."


Tiffany was dreaming again, but this was a nightmare, and a vivid one.

Dean and Jason were in the woods, and they were being stalked. Their predator hid in the undergrowth and behind trees. They moved deftly, weapons raised. Jason listened hard, his eyes darting around cautiously. It drew closer. Dean circled, stepping quietly, keeping his back to Jason. The creature rushed in, going first at Dean. Air whooshed out of him as he hit the ground. His feet scrambled against the ground, he couldn't take a breath. It turned on Jason, who stood braced and ready. Then his expression changed, from rage, to surprise. His weapon dropped. The thing attacked. He was flung to the ground, but he made no attempt to resist.

Suddenly it was thrown back. The men were retreating, Jason's head wobbling, his arm pulled over Dean's shoulders. It dove after them. All three crashed to the ground. Dean attempted to shield Jason's body, but a sharp kick to the ribs put him out of the way. It began to rip into Jason. She heard his grunts of pain as his skin was torn, but he didn't fight back. "I'm sorry," he sobbed.

"Can you hear me?" The voice was not Jason's. It seemed familiar, but far away from the cloud of her dream. "Wake up! Tiffany?" It was bright in the room; she was not in any forest.

Her vision slowly focused and she saw Sam hovering over her, looking fretful. He pulled his hands away. Had he been shaking her awake, or holding her down? Her heart was pounding in her ears and she was still breathing hard.

"Hey, it's okay," he said, trying to make his voice soothing."You're awake. It's me, Sam, remember?"

She made a face. "Of course I remember you, Sam." Her voice came out scratchy from sleep. Or had she been screaming? "It was a nightmare, not a concussion."

He smiled, relieved at her tone. "You want to talk about it?"

She glared at him for a second. Was he just being nice? "It was that thing in the forest."

His eyebrows shot up. "You saw it?"

"No, not exactly. I just saw what it did."

"What do you remember?" He was serious.

"It tracked them. It wanted to kill Jason, so it followed them. He didn't try to get away. He didn't fight back. He just..." She could still see the blood, the shredded body. It was still too clear in her mind. Her stomach churned, and she inhaled through her nose, fighting it.

Sam was unshaken. "I'm sorry. What else?"

"It didn't care about Dean. He just got in the way." Tiffany glanced around the room. "Where is he? Instantly she worried that might have sounded too eager.

"Gassing up the cars." After a moment, Sam ambled over to the window, running a hand over his hair. When he turned back, his grim expression was gone. "So, where did you run off to last night?"

She felt her face get warm. "I needed some air. After Dean caught up, we went for a walk."

"How far did you go? You were gone nearly an hour."

It took her a second to realize that he wasn't asking about second base. "We found a little campsite on the river." She hoped he wouldn't notice how her cheeks flushed. She kept talking to distract herself. "We got there right as the sun was going down. It was really pretty."

"Let me get this straight, you took a walk and watched the sun set? You and Dean?" He was incredulous. "What have you done to him?"

Though she knew Sam was joking, for some reason she felt awful.

He backpedaled. "Tiffany, I'm just kidding, sorry! I think it's nice."

She tried to smile. "No, I know. It's not that." Her stomach was doing flips. "That ritual… what if I did really do something to him?"

"Like what?"

"I think he got some of my memories. He's been remembering things that happened when he was unconscious, things that I said, things he couldn't have heard."

Sam looked a bit relieved. "I've heard of people coming out of a coma, and they've been aware the whole time even when they couldn't respond."

"Maybe," she chewed her lip.

"Either way, we'll keep an eye on him. Don't worry."

It wasn't long before Dean returned. He had a bag of wrapped breakfast sandwiches, and they sat around the tiny table to eat. Dean set a styrofoam cup in front of her. "There's a little bit of coffee in there, to go with your cream and sugar." She smiled, pleasantly surprised. When her eyes met his, she suddenly thought of the way his eyelids fluttered and the vulgar sound he'd made when he entered her. She quickly looked away, shifting uncomfortably on her chair. Not letting things get weird might be tougher than she planned.

The boys practically inhaled a few sausage and egg sandwiches. She ate a few bites of one and folded the rest back up in it's wax paper wrapper. She had been avoiding Dean's eyes, and Sam's too for that matter. He was watching the two of them suspiciously. She kept her head down, intently focused on her coffee cup.

Out of the corner of her vision, she noticed Dean's head reaching behind her head. Her back stiffened. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Hold still," he said. His fingers plucked something from her hair, then dropped it on the table in front of her. A leaf. There had been a dry leaf stuck in her hair this whole time. Her face went red.


Five hours later, they were in Sioux Falls. She'd spent roughly half of the drive agonizing over what happened between Dean and herself. The rest of the time she had played his mix tapes at top volume and sang along, to try and keep herself from dwelling on things. She was actually relieved when she saw the black car pull into a driveway.

Tiffany had an idea of Bobby in her mind from speaking with him on the phone. He was nothing she expected. His redneck appearance was a complete disguise for the intelligent, caring man she understood him to be. Bobby was noticeably shorter than Dean or Sam, but held a familiar sort of authority over them regardless.

His home was as much of a contradiction as the man himself. He lived in a lovely old country farmhouse, in the middle of a junk yard. She let Dean direct her where to park her jeep, and hoped that rust wasn't contagious.

Bobby led the way to his kitchen. There was a large vat of mystery soup on the stovetop, which he ladled out into bowls for each of them. Sam and Dean followed him to a table overflowing with musty old books. "Care to join us?" Bobby offered.

"I don't want to intrude," she tried to excuse herself politely. "Besides, this stuff is all foreign to me."

"Up to you," he shrugged, "but we've all had to start somewhere." He picked out a book from the pile and flipped it open.

She'd had quite enough information dumped on her in the past week, she wasn't sure how much her brain could handle. Yet somehow Bobby had made her feel welcome, but not pressured, to sit in. She spotted a couch against the wall where she could sit and watch. She scurried over with her bowl.

Dean spoke up. "So, did you figure out what we're dealing with?"

"Maybe. For starters, let me tell you what all I've found," Bobby said. "In the Ojibwe dialect, 'oniijaani' means 'female deer.' Some of the texts refer to her as the Deer Maiden. The original came from the Oklahoma tribes; good call on that one, Sam."

"But what exactly is this thing?" Sam asked.

"Well, that's where it gets weird," Bobby continued. "The legends refer to a human girl who was killed. Here's one version: Many years ago, a group of men took the purity of a young woman from a nearby tribe. After their brutal attack, they left her in a field to die."

"Wait… took her purity?" Dean was appalled.

Sam frowned, shaking his head. "That's… wow. So she's a vengeful spirit?"

"Not exactly." Bobby read more from the old book. "Legend tells us that a sympathetic doe came to comfort her as she took her final breath. The oniijaani stayed with her so she would not be alone on her journey back to Mother Earth. The men were never punished for the murder of this woman. So in her next life, the gods blessed her with the strength and speed of a deer. She usually appears as a beautiful woman."

"Ha!" Dean hit the table with his fist. "Shapeshifter. Who called it?"

"Quiet, skippy, I'm wasn't finished," Bobby said. "It became her task to ensure security and justice for young women. Some encounters portray her as a dangerous creature who might seduce men, especially promiscuous or adulterous men."

Sam almost choked on his soup. "Promiscuous men? Oh, Dean..."

Dean punched him in the arm.

Bobby cleared his throat and shot them a dirty look. "Often a man becomes enchanted by her, drifting away from home and family. If the spell is not broken, he falls into depression, despair, prostitution, and ultimately, death."

Sam's back shook with laughter. "Prostitution! I always knew it."

"You're a ...prostitute," Dean muttered.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Idjits."

Sam tried to act serious, a smile pulling at his mouth. "Right. Don't sirens feed that way?"

Bobby nodded thoughtfully before reading on. "Although the Deer Maiden is usually a benign spirit, on occasion she has been known to physically attack, trampling her victims to death with her sharp, cloven hooves."

Now they all became serious. Dean rubbed his hand over his hair. "That sounds about right."

Tiffany thought about her nightmare. She could no longer pretend it was only a dream. This was the thing that had killed Jason. She felt panic rising in her chest, and stood up awkwardly. "Well, I'm glad that's all figured out. Is there anything I can help with around here? Somewhere else, maybe..."


She played a game of solitaire with the deck of cards Sam had loaned her. It was almost too mindless, she needed to be busier. She washed the empty soup bowls, then dried them. She would have put them away, but after opening several cupboards that were most definitely not for bowls, she quit trying.

The air felt too thin, she couldn't get a deep breath. She went to the kitchen window and cracked it open. The slight breeze smelled earthy and clean. Fresh air might help soothe her nerves. She peeked around the corner; everyone was hunched over the mountain of books on the table. They wouldn't even notice she was gone.

Outside, Tiffany shut her eyes and filled her lungs. The air out here was easier to breathe.

She strolled along, away from the house, past rows upon rows of cars until she reached the edge of the woods. She inhaled the pure air. It felt clean. More. She ran her fingers over the bark of a pine tree. The wave of relief almost brought tears to her eyes. She kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks. Her toes in the cool grass felt magnificent. More. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so serene. The smells and textures around her washed every trace of worry from her mind. She wanted to stay here forever, unbothered by the world. More! She closed her eyes and tried to soak it all in.

Then she was ambushed. Heavy cloth wrapped around her like a net, pinning her arms to her body. "NO!" She reacted without thought, like a wild animal, lashing out against whatever was trying to trap her.

"Tiffany!" It was Sam. His strong arms were clasped around her torso. "Tiffany, stop!"

She couldn't seem to focus. "What's happening?" she gasped. Her entire body was screaming at her to run away.

"Let's get you back inside," he said gently.

Panic still clouded her thoughts, but she let him lead her a few steps. The cool air over her bare legs made her glance down. Where had her clothes gone? A big flannel shirt was pulled around her body, covering her almost to her knees. She shook her head. "Sam? I don't remember…"

"You're alright. Come on."

Her legs gave out, but Sam had her; he scooped her up easily. She whimpered as he took her further away from the trees, but forced herself not to struggle. She let her head drop to his shoulder.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: We are nearing the end of our story! I'd love to hear what you think so far. Leave a review or send me a private message, I welcome constructive criticism as much as praise. Thank you for reading!