Where The Wild Things Are

by MarionLuth

As Sam & Dean investigate a young singer, who shares their Winchester name & face, their lives collide. And...she's hiding a dangerous secret. A Supernatural dramedy deeply developed & richly written, with strong canon characters. Angels, demons, the earth's only Nephilim, Lucifer, Crowley, Jody Mills, Claire, Alex, the boys & a teen girl with the heart of an angel. Spanking.

25. Happy Hunting All You Live Wires

Chapter 25

Happy Hunting All You Live Wires

Title Credit: Lyrics from the song "This Girl", by Slade (from the film Slade in Flame, 1974)

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A/N: Hello people! Chapter 25 is all ready for you and as promised… Hunting time! Let us start by welcoming our new followers and thanking each and every one of you that gave us a review in our last two chapters. We hope to hear from all of you once you read this one too!

Now onto some announcements… Amidst the chaos and disorder of this pandemic and everything else going on in so many different areas of our planet, some major life events have happened in both our lives.

New, exciting, but very demanding jobs have come up for both of us. We're now earning a living writing scripts and working with a movie-production company. We're both very grateful and excited for this new direction.

And last but not least, one of us (MarionLuth) is in the process of another major creative project….that of making a baby. The new addition to the family (with Supernatural-themed onesies already bought) will arrive in January!

We're sharing these big news with you, not only because you're people we've come to know and love, but also as a heads-up. There is a strong possibility that going forward we might not be able to keep up the once a month updates. Not because we don't want to, but because our time is more limited and will be even more limited come January.

We're both determined to keep working on this as hard as possible, but with everything else shifting in our day to day lives, you might find yourselves having to wait longer in between updates. I'm sure you'll all be understanding and supportive considering the reasons behind this! :) After all when you do get our updates it will still be the same quality of writing and the same story you've come to know and love as much as we do.

The story will of course continue and be finished. There's no way we could ever abandon it. We love it too much. Discussions on possible future sequels and/or one-shots in the WTWTA universe have also happened, but that's waaaay down the road and after this story reaches its end. We're not sure how many chapters or how many months this will take, but we'll stick to it until it's done and done well!

That's about it from our neck of the woods. We can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter! Remember, your reviews keep us going!

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"I'm coming in," was Dean's announcement as he opened Amber's bedroom door. Having knocked and knocked, he felt it was time to see why no one was answering him.

Arms and legs...everywhere. The two girls had apparently fallen asleep on Amber's bed, mid-song possibly, as Amber's guitar was strewn next to her, her hand still on the neck of the guitar. Claire had only one sock on, her bare foot hanging off the edge of the bed.

And boy, did their room stink! Dean hadn't met an odor like this since he and Sam were teenagers. Not as bad, for sure, but definitely not good.

Smiling, Dean was holding the door open as he stood there. Sam was walking by.

"Psst, Sam, come here."

Motioning for Sam to come stand by him, Amber's door now wide open, Sam did and looked in. He couldn't help but chuckle.

"They had a good night," Sam whispered to Dean.

"Not thanks to you," Dean replied smugly. "Should we let them sleep in?"

"Sleep in? I don't know, Dean. It's close to noon. They got a full day ahead of them tomorrow. I think you should get them up."

Face scrunching up, Dean glared at him.

"Why should I wake 'em up? You wake 'em up!"

His turn to smirk, Sam simply walked away.

"They're not sleeping like that thanks to me, right?"

Not having a defensible argument, Dean was the one to wake these beauties. Casting his gaze back at the girls, he noticed Claire was drooling. Stirring in her sleep, Claire reached a hand up her shirt and was scratching across her left breast.

TMI!

Dean needed to get these girls up before he saw anything more. Beauties...more like animals sometimes.

Unable to resist the opportunity to have his fun, he tiptoed to the bed and bent down to capture a photo of each girl. A close up of Claire's drooling and a very unflattering photo of Amber sleeping on her back, mouth wide open.

Chuckling, and very pleased with himself, he shoved the phone back in his pocket before standing tall over the bed and clapping his hands as loudly as he could while yelling, "Rise and shine!"

Snapping out of their deep slumber, both girls sat up and looked around them disoriented and startled. Amber gasped before mumbling something incoherent, while Claire's hand instinctively reached under her pillow but came back out holding nothing. Had she been in her own room, Dean was certain she'd be wielding her brand new knife that was now laying on the top of Amber's dresser.

Eyes finally registering his presence, Amber groaned, grabbed her pillow, and threw it at him. Despite his close proximity, her muscles were just as sleepy as she was and the pillow barely reached her brother before falling to the floor.

"Need to work on that aim of yours," was Dean's sarcasm.

Amber closed her eyes and groaned again.

"What do you want, Dean?" Her tone whiny and annoyed at the same time.

"I want you up and showered. You stink!"

"You stink," came Claire's grumpy response as she managed to get herself up, looking around for her discarded skull-patterned sock from the floor. Somehow she had kicked off only one of them while sleeping.

Dean noticed how Claire's face looked wrinkled from the bed covering and Amber's hair was a thatch that flew in every possible direction.

"You two look "rode hard and put away wet." Dean was laughing at this. He'd never seen these girls looking so rumpled and...well disarranged.

"Leave," Claire practically growled in his general direction.

"Okay, enough! I've got breakfast ready and you two need to get showered and in the kitchen." Clapping loudly again Dean made this declaration stick.

In slow motion, Amber was sitting up and orienting to the room. Claire was still searching for her other sock.

Closing the door, Dean was all smiles as he headed to the kitchen. These girls were going to be great to tease. Fun times.

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With their fifth bowl of popcorn practically empty, five sets of eyes remained glued on the screen as the film credits scrolled down the screen. Amber and Dean were sitting comfortably in the only two armchairs available in the make-shift TV room. Or Dean-cave, as Dean liked to call it. Castiel, Sam, and Claire were sitting in three chairs they'd brought down from the library.

"Well, that might've been the worst one yet," was Claire's comment, breaking the silence.

"C'mon! It was sweet," Amber countered, looking at the blonde incredulously.

"The only thing sweet about it was getting another name for Clarence. And even that name is really lame," Claire insisted, causing Dean to chuckle and Sam to shake his head.

"I think the Dudley character was appropriately fleshed out," was Castiel's neutral comment.

"Yeah!" Claire scoffed. "'Cause that's what angels are like. Looking for couples to counsel and married ladies to take on skate dates."

"If this assists God in his divine plan it is not out of the realm of possibility. Although, I do not think any angel would create a continuously refilling bottle of alcohol."

All four people sitting in the 'Dean Cave' groaned. The tone was a sonorous sound of disgust and disbelief that said, 'give me a break.'

"'Cause god's a douche!" was Dean's booming statement.

"Amen" was Sam's muttered response.

Cas, looking over at Sam, having clearly heard Sam's low utterance, had a frown on his face. "Sam, in the context of this conversation, your response is blasphemous."

Getting up, Sam ignored Cas.

"I think the liquor act was cool. That poor old guy, it was his last bottle," Amber defended the imaginary angel. "And Dudley magically decorated the bishop family's Christmas tree and lit it up. Now we do know, from personal experience, that angels do that. Most angels are douches, but there are exceptions," Amber continued, glancing at Cas with a soft smile at these last words.

Sam, reading Claire's increasing annoyance, and imagining the sour paths this conversation could lead to, decided to intervene.

"It's a movie, guys. Made in the '40s. What did you expect? Realism with angel blades and biblical massacres? What's next on the menu? Claire, I think you should pick the next one since you hated all of our picks so far."

"You got 'Silent Night, Deadly Night'?" Claire immediately asked, raising a single eyebrow.

Getting to his feet and stretching, Dean snorted. "If we had that one I'd stick around."

"Going somewhere?" Amber asked, surprised.

"Yeah. I'm gonna head out for a bit. Sam, you cool with this?"

A bit thrown off by this, Sam managed to keep his cool. "Sure. You know what, why don't I walk you out." Getting to his feet he turned to the girls, "You pick a movie or decide what you wanna do next and I'll get some more popcorn."

Walking out of the Dean Cave, Sam confronted his brother.

"You're leaving?"

Looking a bit conflicted, Dean was trying to figure out why Sam was upset.

"Yeah, Sam. I thought I'd leave. Get out, get a drink. You know, what we usually do on Christmas Day."

"Dude, you can't just get up and leave like that! We've talked about this," Sam said in an exasperated tone.

"That's what you did the other day, Sammy," was Dean's annoyed response.

"No, Dean! I had talked with Amber before I even decided I'd go on that date and only arranged that after she said she was cool with it! And I didn't stroll out of here in the middle of doing something with her! I told you and left quietly when she was busy!"

"So, what? I have to clear my calendar with Amber before I leave the bunker?"

"You have to give her a heads up, yeah! Don't you remember what happened the last time you did this? And she wasn't even around to witness it. She pieced things together from our conversation! And it's not just Amber anymore, is it?"

Dean was feeling defensive hearing all this. He knew Sam was right, but he also knew he couldn't walk on eggshells around Amber and Claire out of fear they'd act out. Not to mention that he'd already done what Sam was bitching about. It wasn't like he could take it back. Not to mention it wasn't Christmas!"

"What do you propose I do? Go and ask them, 'Do you mind if I go out and have a drink and see if I can get laid?' Is this what you're saying, Sammy?"

"God, you're insufferable! What I'm saying is you should let them know that you plan to leave and not just spring this on them like that. It's not just the two of us anymore!"

Getting tired of this, Dean decided he wasn't going to think too much. The last few weeks had been too much on so many levels and he needed this break.

"Fine! Cut the bitching! I'll keep that in mind next time. Now it's done and I'm gone. Call if anything comes up!"

Angered by his troglodyte brother, Sam was starting to fume.

"Like Claire learning about Amber under my watch?" Sam yelled at Dean's retreating figure.

"Bye, Sam!"

Sam watched his brother leaving and knew he was going to spend most of the day soothing the girls' feelings and anger at Dean. His Christmas was fucked. He just hoped he could salvage Amber and Claire's.

Grabbing a fresh bowl of popcorn from the kitchen before heading back to Dean's man cave, Sam was bracing himself for the girls' onslaught of questions and outrage. Dammit, Dean!

The sliver of light cutting into the dark of the room, Sam entered with his popcorn. Three sets of eyes zeroed in on him, two of them questioning.

"Did he really leave?" Amber asked, disbelievingly.

"Yes, Amb. He's gone out," Sam replied as evenly as he could manage.

"But it's Christmas!" Amber couldn't believe Dean would do this on her first Christmas. On their first Christmas. She thought they were having a good time. Couldn't he hold it in his pants till tomorrow?

"I'm sorry Amber. I'm upset, too. Not that this excuses him, but this is our first Christmas, too. Dean and I really never had this holiday. We never had family to have this holiday with. We just usually went out to a bar and drank all day." With this explanation, Sam was feeling the contrast between his and Dean's life before Amber and their life. It was, well, so very different now. Better. Much more complicated, that's for sure! But better.

Claire looked just as annoyed as Amber but much more guarded. After everything that had transpired these last couple of weeks, she had started to really enjoy the light-hearted and casual moments in the bunker. And Dean had ended today's abruptly and in the worst possible way. She wondered what was going on in his thick, stupid head. Leaving her sister alone for their first Christmas, leaving her alone after all the shit he was telling her about caring for her like family only a few days ago... Getting up from her chair, she went to where Sam was standing, grabbed the bowl of popcorn and threw herself in the armchair next to Amber.

"Screw him. He'd just ruin the day somehow anyways."

Amber glanced over at Claire, feeling how hurt and annoyed she really was. Cas, who'd fallen silent during this family drama, was feeling the collective hurt. Sam was feeling angered that Dean was putting him in this position with the girls. Cas also was feeling Claire's anger and feelings of betrayal. This jagged energy was spiking off of her. Cas wondered if this would insight her to act out in a self-destructive way? Amber's feelings were hurt, too, but with a bit more complexity to it. Cas was feeling Amber's energy signature. It was giving off waves of memories that Cas was seeing. Catching himself, he realized this was what Amber had asked him to refrain from doing. Pulling himself back, Cas telepathically 'backed out' of Amber's memories. Her anger, hurt, and sadness was deeper, more mixed than Claire's. Her feelings defied a black-and-white definition.

"Claire's right. Screw him. We're here. Let him go fuck around if that's all he cares about," was Amber's comment, filled with angry hurt.

Sam didn't feel like admonishing her for her choice of words right now, so he let it slide. He hated that the girls had to go through this today, of all days, and that he was the one left to fix things.

"That's not all he cares for, Amber. But I can more than understand your anger right now. He can be inconsiderate at times, but hurting you two wasn't his intention."

"Sam, you don't have to defend him," Amber demanded, her eyes narrowing and her forehead creasing as she shook her head. Still feeling upset at Dean, Amber could feel Sam's mixed feelings, his feelings of conflict between a grown man with grown man priorities and wishing Dean had stuck around to hang with them all.

"I'll eat to that," Claire quipped, grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing her mouth with it.

"You wanna watch another movie or prefer to do something else?" Sam asked, getting a disinterested look from both girls.

"So, Sam, when you were a kid, did Dean take you with him on his hunt for pussy, or did he dump you somewhere, too?" Claire asked snarkily.

Feeling uncomfortable talking about this with the girls, Sam hesitated in answering.

"C'mon Sam. You can tell us," was Claire's sarcastic cajoling.

Looking even more uncomfortable Amber turned to listen to this conversation, having never thought about this. She turned fully to see what Sam would say. Cas noticed the shift in the room's energy to a mild sexual tension and manipulation.

Realizing the logistics of their age difference, this was a legitimate question. However, Sam realized the answer was messy. Looking rather embarrassed, Sam decided to answer it anyway.

"Well, it depended." This was where Sam's memory was filling in the unflattering reality of their lives. "He left me at the motel for a few hours every now and then. After I hit sixteen he sometimes came back early in the morning, but that was a rare occurrence. He didn't feel comfortable leaving me alone. Not even when I was more than capable of taking care of myself. Dad had drilled into his head this sacred duty of always watching out for me and keeping me safe."

Looking away, Sam was uncomfortable.

Amber was feeling very sad for Sam. And despite her anger, for Dean, too.

"The thing is… This wasn't on Dean. This was on dad. Our lives were too messed up and all the normal things, both me and Dean should have experienced, we couldn't experience them. Dean, selfish as he might seem at times, literally gave up his childhood and teenage years because of the life John Winchester decided to lead. " was Sam's quiet response, his voice trailing off into this memory.

"So, Dean abandoning you until you were, what, old enough to pass, wasn't on him?" was Claire's sarcastic inquiry.

"No. It was still on our father, Claire. Dean needed his short breaks of being himself. Of doing normal things guys his age should do. It wasn't his fault our father couldn't be bothered to raise us. He only got his breaks whenever we were left at Pastor Jim's or Bobby's. Those were his weeks off. And that was our reality. So, we should all keep that in mind when he acts like he did today. It doesn't excuse him, but it explains a lot, don't you think?"

"But you guys hung out in bars and pool halls, too, when you were young. You know, hustling for food money. He took you with him here. You guys did this, right?"

"Yeah, we did this. We had to." Sam was wondering where Amber was leading their conversation. It made him nervous. He'd not been a saint.

"So, only when he was on the prowl, he left you?" Amber figured this much, but was pacing with Sam. He'd taught her this technique.

"Yeah, pretty much. You don't score easily when carrying a fourteen-year-old around, Amber," Sam answered, trying to add some levity to the conversation.

"Sam, when Dean did this, did you ever go out yourself? Or have… you know... company over?" Amber was curious. It was dawning on her, Sam would have been a teenage guy who would've had a motel room all to himself, at least every now and then for a few hours.

"Did you ever bring a hook up back to the motel?" Amber was getting a sly grin on her face as she asked this. Sam knew what she was doing. Laughing at how this conversation had turned in his direction so fast, Sam was looking uncomfortable even as he smiled. Amber's joking about this bad memory was lifting his mood.

"It happened," was Sam's laconic answer. His embarrassed smile remained small, trying not to admit too much even as his demeanor was screaming 'guilty.'

"I knew it!" Amber was more lively now, her grumbling over Dean's disappearance was being replaced with a juicier topic: Sam's love life.

Claire turned her face to Sam, having never considered this topic before. Dean, well, yeah. Look at the man. But Sam, Sam pretty much lived in Dean's shadow.

"Yeah, yeah… Don't get any ideas though," Sam added with a smirk of his own, looking at his sister.

"Well, then don't leave me alone in the motel when you can take me out hunting with you." Amber was twisting this knife in a direction she'd never considered.

"Well, then don't be a brat who gets herself grounded and locked up in a motel room. We can make sure you're not left alone while in a motel. We do have an angel handy," was Sam's only half-joking answer, as the events of the Rugaru hunt came to his mind.

Sitting there, listening to the topic, Cas was picking up on all sorts of sexual tension in the room. It wasn't between any of the people in the room. However, the images he was seeing were more than he wished to be aware of, especially Amber and Sam's. Claire's seemed to be different, more feminine, which confused him. He only saw women in her memories with sexual energy. Then he realized the meaning and it was a casual understanding that was unremarkable to him.

Like a fly on the wall, Claire was silently enjoying this repartee. God this was entertaining...and informative.

Shrinking back into herself, Amber was becoming subdued, quiet. She clearly remembered this whole fiasco and she didn't wish to broach this topic any further. Certainly not in front of Claire. Sam understood and wasn't going there, either. Claire sensed Amber was embarrassed about something very specific here. Deciding she would hold off probing until the two of them were alone, she let it slide for now.

Now less upset by Dean's escape, an idea crossed Amber's mind. Turning to look at Sam, hope floating in her heart, she launched her idea for the other's to see.

"Sam, could we go for a ride? You know, get out of here, too. The four of us? Choose the music for a change? Not for long, just to get some air. We don't even have to stop for coffee or anything. Just a car ride. Pleeeease?"

Amber's whiney ask was playful, yet earnest and very real. And her 'ask' was strategically placed. Dean wasn't here to veto it and Sam, like them, was disgruntled with him, too.

Sam, looking over at Amber, and Claire refocusing on him and obviously leaning forward to hear his reply, all combined to pressure him to a 'yes.' Considering the risk-benefit analysis, he and Cas both being there with the girls, it didn't take much time to reach a conclusion.

"Yeah, I think we can do this. If Cas is willing to come with us, that is."

Sam looked over at the angel.

Sensing Amber's eagerness for this, and thinking a change of scenery would help all three of them to sort through their anger towards Dean, Cas accepted this offer.

"Yes. I think this would be a good idea for me to come."

Claire, rolling her eyes, went back to eating her popcorn. Of course the angel was coming. What else do you do on Christmas day? You drive around with an angel in your car. Entirely losing sight of the fact that they were going to leave the bunker, Claire had a sour look on her face.

Amber, not letting anything get in the way of this win, was beaming. Smiling ear-to-ear, she jumped up and slapped the arm of the chair Claire sat in.

"Get up. Let's go already. I can't wait to get out of here. And leave everything exactly as it is. Dean's on clean-up duty tomorrow."

The girls left, Amber practically dragging Claire. Sam and Cas looked at each other.

"Sam, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"This seems fine. We're both with Amber and she's not powerless. Besides, Dean left us. He clearly thinks we can take care of ourselves."

Cas, a nonplussed look on his face, considered this statement. Sam started walking out and turned to address the angel who was still sitting in his chair.

"You coming?"

Cas nodded and stood up.

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The bunker's garage door opened and Dean walked in, slowly and a bit off his game. While he was certainly upright, he had a slight wobble to his bow-legged gait.

Down in the War Room, Sam was walking by on his way to the library. Hearing the door open, he looked up to see Dean returning. Still feeling a slow burn at how Dean just up and left them all half-through Christmas Day, he ignored Dean's arrival.

Continuing his walk to the library, Sam disappeared from Dean's view. Not knowing what to make of this, Dean descended the metal staircase to the War Room floor. Scanning around, he saw nothing more of Sam or anyone else.

OK...this was strange. Usually, Sam would at least snark at him. His silence was disconcerting. So, Dean followed Sam into the library to investigate this silence.

"Hey, Sam. How are the girls?" was Dean's jocular response as he approached Sam's table.

Not looking up from his book, Sam kept quiet. He hated this whole game Dean played when he knew he'd screwed up, but wasn't about to admit it.

Not receiving the expected response, Deαn came closer to the table and stood nearby, looking down at the book Sam was reading. Still silence. Alright, Dean was getting a bit agitated by this passive-aggressive standoff. It clearly was Sam's displeasure and Dean knew why. However, this was ignored in favor of making this a 'Sam Issue'.

"Silent treatment, Sam? Really? What are you, twelve?"

"There's coffee in the kitchen. You'd better have some before stumbling into the training room. Claire and Amber will be ready and waiting for you in less than twenty minutes, so I suggest you hurry."

Dean cursed inside his head. Was he that late? Checking his phone he mumbled a "son of a bitch" at the realization that Sam was right.

"And you might consider that you'll need a shower soon. You stink of cheap perfume and even cheaper booze."

Not knowing what to say to this, Dean's mouth clamped shut and he headed towards the kitchen. If Sam was being like that he wondered what would await him with the girls. Caffeine was needed.

"Claire, I'll see you in the kitchen," was Amber's low yell through Claire's door as she passed it on her way to the kitchen. Training mornings always started with coffee. Always!

"I'll catch up," was the muffled shout from the other side of Claire's door as she laced up her shoes. God it was cold. She needed a jacket just to go to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen, Amber paused seeing a disheveled Dean chugging down coffee from a mug. He turned around a bit startled, hearing her enter, spilling some of the coffee on him and the floor.

"Shit! You startled me, kid. 'Morning," he said in a slightly hoarse tone.

A sour look on her face, Amber considered her brother. The state he was in and his reeking of cheap cologne told her enough in terms of how his night and most of his morning was spent. Going to the counter she grabbed and filled a cup of coffee for herself.

"Oh, you decided to grace us with your company. She must have been good." Better than us, that's for sure, was her sarcastic inner monologue. Amber's tone was cold, hurt and vengeful. She wanted to hurt him as much as he'd hurt her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Come again?" Despite her feelings, or whatever was going on with her, Dean wasn't going to let her talk so disrespectfully to him.

Standing up straighter now, his full authoritarian attitude 'on', Dean was eyeing his sister who was leaning against the counter, looking away from him. There was a frown on her face, her eyebrows were lowered, and her eyes had darkened with anger, as she held her cup up to her face, sipping her own coffee.

"What's up, Dean? Remembered you're the big brother? That didn't seem to register yesterday, did it?" Amber shot right back. She wasn't about to let him off so easily. Not when he was clearly in the wrong.

Before he had a chance to answer, the door of the kitchen swung open again, Claire came rushing in, still working her hair into a ponytail. Upon seeing Dean, she stopped herself, her facial expression slumping as she took on the continence of someone wronged. Checking the man from head to toe she tilted her head to the side.

"Look who's looking rode hard and put away wet now," she said sourly, before turning her back to him and grabbing a cup to fill with the still steaming coffee.

In the manner of someone ignoring the obvious, and focusing on the unrelated in order to continue ignoring the obvious, Dean started to lose his cool about the girls' disrespectful attitude.

"You two wanna spend the next two hours doing pushups and wall-sits? 'Cause that can be arranged," he barked at them.

Both girls looked up at him, turning their righteous anger on him via a deep silence. Dean felt all of eight years old and in trouble. Their silent indignation was justified. Powerful...and therefore couldn't be acknowledged. They saw his thoughts, Amber most especially, and in unison, they turned their backs to him. Not a word was said. First Amber, then Claire walking past him silently on their way to the training room. This left Dean with nothing. No power, no leverage, no nada.

Downing the rest of his coffee in two large gulps, Dean set the mug in the sink with more force than necessary before making his own way to the training room. The shower would have to wait.

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A good forty minutes before their session was due to be over, the door of the training room opened and Sam walked in.

Amber and Claire, who were in the middle of practicing a new defense sequence, paused and looked at him surprised.

"You guys are done for the day. We got a case," Sam informed them.

"What? When?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Just now," Sam replied drily.

"We only got forty minutes left, Sam. I'm sure the case won't go anywhere," Dean got out through gritted teeth.

"A case came up, Dean. When a case comes up we stop what we're doing, we pack, and we hit the road." Sam's tone didn't allow for argument, not that Dean was one to give a shit about such things. Before he had a chance to answer, the girls walked towards Sam, obviously heading out of the training room.

"Hey! I didn't say you could go," Dean snapped at them.

"Yeah, well, Sam said we need to stop and pack," Amber shot back at him, not turning to face him. Both she and Claire kept walking ignoring Dean's annoyance.

"Who's in charge here?" was Dean's indignant question. It was really a statement, but well, it was phrased questionably.

"Whoever sticks around," was Amber's bitter answer, this time throwing an angry look in his general direction. A second later she had vanished out the door right behind Claire.

A smug expression on his face, Sam raised one 'I-told-you-so' eyebrow at his brother before heading out the room himself. He knew sooner or later he'd be the one to intervene and smooth things over between Dean and the girls, but there was no hurry. He'd let Dean remain on the receiving end of the girls' ire long enough to learn his lesson...maybe. Hard to tell with Dean.

"Take a shower. We'll be stuck in a car together. You stink," he threw at his brother before closing the training room's door behind him.

"Well, shit," was all Dean could say before he left the training room for his own shower. This was going to be a tough trip.

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Duffel bags packed and lined up on the floor, the three Winchesters and Claire sat at the war-room's table with the world map. Sam was discussing the case he'd found.

"There's been two cases of church fires, both on Christmas Day in Wichita, both in Catholic churches. One casualty in each. In one of the fires, a witness described a man catching on fire while they were up at the altar. They mentioned this man spontaneously caught on fire and burned to ashes before their very eyes. What's even weirder is that in both cases the fires didn't spread to the point of burning down the whole church, but brought down only the tabernacle and altar in each church building."

"Holy shit," Claire murmured as Sam described these events. "Must have really been on Santa's naughty list."

"So, we suspect what? Demons?" Amber asked her mind immediately, flying to her own most imminent threat.

"Could be. Though demons don't usually sweat over churches. They have their fun here every once in a while, sure, but it doesn't really add up. In any case we can't make any guesses until we find out more," Sam said thoughtfully.

"So, what's the rule when we don't know what we're up against?" Dean asked, his tone curt.

"Carry every weapon we can with us," Amber automatically replied, illustrating her adoption of their pragmatism in cases.

"Right, but we can't anticipate everything. So, what's our next best thing?" was Sam's questioning of the girls.

Not quite knowing what they meant, Claire was thinking about what she'd do in this circumstance. "I'd research the hell out of anything fire-related. Sounds like a weird Christmas fire thing to me."

Sam turned to face Claire, a smile on his face. "You're on the right track. Good Claire. You're right about 'the weird Christmas fire thing'. I thought about this, too. And what do we know about fire-related rituals around late December, early January?" Sam cast his eyes around the table, from Dean to Amber, to Claire.

"You mean besides the Spanish Inquisition and Galileo almost being burned for discovering the earth revolved around the sun?" was Claire's deduction.

"Well, yeah. Besides this. These were very conservative Catholic churches, lots of Irish priests sent over to keep the American flock in line. So, I'm not thinking this is that. What else could be tied to this event?" Sam scanned the faces of everyone sitting at the table.

"Winter solstice rituals," Amber answered Sam's original question.

"Oh, right," was Claire's realization. Her eyes glinted as she spotted an opportunity to actually apply her knowledge from her AP World History and Human Geography classes. "Burning rituals found in most cultures happen around Christmas time…and used to involve the burning of sacrificial people and animals. You know, the whole 'Wicker Man' thing. Later on evolving to the burning of symbols like the yule log for the Norse people."

Dean watched this conversation with masked interest. He liked what he saw. Both girls were taking this seriously and seemed prepared on both the theoretical and practical front. He might never pay much attention to all the lore details they seemed to do, but he always had Sam for that. And he was grateful for it. Yet, seeing the girls combining his and Sam's best hunting qualities made him realise they were doing a good job training them.

"How the hell do we narrow down which culture?" With the source of this being virtually any culture in history, the task of narrowing down which culture and why felt daunting and pointless.

"We pretend to be FBI or priests," Amber answered. "We'll get to do that again, right?" She added hopefully looking at Sam.

"Probably," Sam smiled.

"Right," Dean said, clapping his hands once. "We're all caught up and good to go. Get your stuff and get moving."

Amber only glanced at his direction before turning questioning eyes to Sam. "Are we ready to go, Sam?" She asked pointedly.

Sam knew the only reason he was asked that question was to aggravate Dean, but he didn't mind it. Not in this instance. Wondering how long he'd let this go on for, he appeared to be thoughtful.

"You know what? I'd like to have a couple of books with us, just in case. Go grab the one with the Sigils I'm having you and Claire study...and, oh, also grab the Encyclopedia of Magic and Alchemy. You know, the Rosemary Ellen Guilery book.

"Done," Amber called as she shot to her feet and rushed to the library.

Dean watched the interaction with his jaw visibly clenched, but remained silent. If that's how they wanted to play this, he'd let them. Reaching in his pocket he took out his car keys and threw them at Sam, who managed to catch them before they hit him in the face.

"You're in charge, Sam. Clearly. You drive, you orchestrate this. I need a nap anyways," Dean informed him. Grabbing his duffel bag he took the stairs, two-at-a-time, up to the garage, heading for the Impala.

"Thank god… I couldn't take three hours of AC/DC even if you paid me," Claire mumbled.

Sam looked over at Claire. "Well, do you have any tapes? The Impala only has a tape deck."

Looking confused, Claire had no point of reference here. "What's a tape deck?"

"If you have to ask, then you'll be listening to AC/DC," Sam's deduction laid out the long trip ahead of them.

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Knocking on the front door, Dean and Sam stood there waiting for the door to be answered. Sam straightened his jacket and calmed himself. He'd gotten used to the whole FBI-schtick, but it was always a bit nerve-wracking when it had been the first time in a while. Dean, well, Dean was fine. He'd pioneered this method. John Winchester would've never considered, or passed, as an FBI agent even on his best day.

Knocking a second time, the door was answered by a middle-age hollowed-out vision of a man.

"Mr. Lebrinsky, I'm Detective Cagney and this is my partner, Detective Lacey. We're here about the church-fire incident. We'd like to speak to your son, who was a witness according to our report. Would that be okay with you?"

Looking befuddled, Mr. Lebrinsky was speechless for a moment, visibly collecting his wits, his brain kicking back into gear.

"Augh, sure, but the police have already asked my son a lot of questions. He's really exhausted. Can't you get the police report or something?"

"We understand that sir, but this is now a bureau affair, so we'll need to conduct our own investigation. We know you're all very upset, we promise we won't take up too much of your time. We just want this case solved as much as you do," Sam said in an almost apologetic tone. His empathetic expression and soft words made the man finally nod.

Not seeing much of an alternative, Mr. Lebrinsky opened the front door and led the two FBI agents into his home.

Dean glanced around them as they walked past the hallway and towards the living area of the house. The first thing that caught his attention was a big, white, gypsum cross hanging above the lit fireplace's mantel. Stepping inside Sam and Dean heard a door, presumably from a bedroom, open and voices could be heard coming from inside the room.

"I'll be right back, I'll get it for you," a female voice was heard.

Walking into the living room Emily Ann came face-to-face with two tall FBI agents...who were instantly recognizable. Slightly startled, Emily's mouth dropped open, her eyes big. Less obvious, the two agents recognized the girl and shifted uncomfortably, exchanging a quick look. Shit! Would this girl blow their cover? And what the hell was she doing here?

"Everything alright, Emily?" Mr. Lebrinsky asked in a tired voice.

"Yeah… Uhm… I was just going out to get the food. I'll be right back," Emily answered hastily, averting her eyes from the two men, before bolting out the room and towards the front door.

Walking past them on her way to the front door, Emily stole a glance up at the closest FBI agent. Briefly glancing up at Sam, Emily scanned him in his disguise. He looked convincing. Sam noticed this assessment. While tense, he didn't get that Emily was ready to reveal she knew them. She was clearly keeping their identities to herself, which was something.

Heading out the front door, cell phone in hand, Emily closed the door behind her, keeping the warmth inside.

"Like we said, Mr. Lebrinsky, if we could please talk with your son about what he saw at the church when the fire happened, this will help with our investigation." Voice deep and authoritative, Dean stood there expectantly, arms straight down by his side, looking like the solid wall of authority he liked to project when met with any hesitancy. It usually worked. And it worked this time, too.

"I'll go fetch him," the man answered, not looking particularly pleased with the situation. Walking out the room his steps faded away.

Just then the front door opened and Emily Ann re-emerged back into the front room, plastic bags of some kind of takeout food in her hand.

Taking advantage of the privacy, Sam took a step closer to her, causing her to take a step back, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Emily, this is serious FBI business and we really need to conduct this interview without suspicion or hesitation by the family or the witnesses. Don't mention you know us, this could make things harder for us and the family."

"So, you're FBI agents? Crazy, holy-water flicking FBI agents?" Emily asked not yet ready to believe this.

"What are you even doing here?" was Dean's demanding question, getting angry at this unexpected encounter. This girl could ruin everything.

"I'm a friend of the family," Emily replied in a hushed tone.

Dean eyed her suspiciously, but couldn't get into any more details as two sets of feet could be heard coming towards them from the other end of the house.

Throwing them one last suspicious glance, Emily left the living room just as Mr. Lebrinsky reentered the living room, his right hand clasped around the slim shoulder of a ten-year-old boy.

"Alright, Sean, these here are FBI agents and they'd like to ask you a few things about the fire. Like the policemen did a before," Mr. Lebrinsky spoke as soothingly as he could to the boy, who was eyeing the two tall men timidly. He looked traumatized with dark, sunken eyes. This was alarming for a child.

"Your dad can stay right here with us in the room, Sean," Sam said in a reassuring tone. "I promise this won't take long."

"Okay," Sean mumbled and shuffled his sock-covered feet to the couch.

Emily Ann stood out of sight, just around the corner within ear shot. She needed to know what was going on with these guys. Still and silent, she listened intently, plastic takeout bags still dangling from her hands. The smell of Chinese food was starting to accumulate in the hallway.

Walking closer to the kid, and sitting on the couch next to him, Sam peered at the small-framed boy. He looked uncomfortable and scared, sitting on his palms and staring at the floor.

"Sean, I'm detective Lacey and," looking up at Dean with imploring eyes, Sam continued, "this is my partner, Detective Cagney. We'd like to ask you just a few questions of what you saw, perhaps what you smelled, or felt when the church caught fire." Looking up at Dean, and then to Mr. Lebrinsky, Sam was seeking to reassure the father while needing in kind backup from Dean. "Just a few questions, Do you think you can do this for us, Sean?"

At the kid's silence, Dean took the few steps between them and sat on the coffee table.

"Cool socks," he said, casually.

Sean glanced up to him for all of a second before averting his gaze again. "It's transformers," he mumbled quietly.

"Yeah, Optimus Prime," Dean said excitedly. "That your favorite show?"

Now looking straight up to him, Sean smiled. "You've seen it?"

"I used to watch it when I was about your age," Dean nodded with a smile. "Do your friends watch it, too?"

"Yeah, it's all our favorite. The school says we shouldn't be watching it, but our parents let us."

Dean chuckled at the excited way Sean shared this detail.

"How very cool of your parents! And why doesn't the school like you and your friends watching it?"

"They say it's too violent and that robots are machines and don't have souls," was Sean's disgruntled answer.

"Hm…Yeah." Smiling a cheeky grin, Dean continued, " I think I'm with your parents on that one. So, were you with your friends yesterday? When the fire happened?"

Somewhat deflated at the change of subject, Sean still nodded.

"Some of them. It was just me, Janelle, and Barry. And well… Mr. Klee, but he's the one who died."

"Mr. Klee?" Sam asked, pausing his note-taking.

"I don't know his first name. He's the one who was set on fire," Sean repeated, his face now clearly upset at the memory.

"That's okay, we have his full name," Dean reassured. "Was any other adult around?"

"Sister Karen and Father Michael. But they weren't inside the church. They were talking to Barry's parents outside."

"Are these teachers from your school, Sean?" was Sam's question.

"No, they're the leaders of our youth group. They run our Sunday school sessions and some after school activities."

Jotting these details down, Sam nodded. "So, Father Michael and Sister Karen were outside with Barry's parents… And you and your friends were inside the church when the fire actually happened? Did I get this right?" Sam asked again.

"Yeah…We were playing hide and seek. Janelle and I were hiding inside the church and Mr. Klee was cleaning. Then Janelle heard him cursing and she was really mad at him. We're not allowed to curse. And you really shouldn't curse inside the church."

"Then what happened?" Dean wished to keep the rapport he had with

Sean going. Details. He needed more details.

"Then Mr. Klee burst into flames," Sean said in a hushed tone. His eyes grew large and started to fill with water. His lower lip began to tremble as his mouth was pulled back into a grimace of sadness and fear.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, Dean stepped forward to reassure the kid. Looking up at Dean, Sean seemed to calm down. Sam, seeing this interaction, decided to gently pursue their line of questioning.

"Did some candle fall on him, maybe? Did you notice any sort of fire source near him?"

Sean glanced from Sam to Dean, then his father, and shook his head.

Noticing the glance towards Mr. Lebrinsky, Sam turned to the man, "Could you bring Sean a glass of water, please?"

Hesitating for only a moment, the man nodded and left the living room.

"Is there anything else that happened, Sean?" Sam asked as soon as the kid's father left.

Taking in a shaky breath, Sean turned to the tallest of the agents.

"I'm not supposed to say this, but it was Janelle. She did it. She looked at Mr. Klee and she had fire in her eyes and then he was on fire and screaming…" His voice breaking, Sean used the back of his sleeve to wipe at his falling tears and lowered his gaze.

Exchanging a look with his brother, Dean rubbed the kid's back as he asked, "Has Janelle done anything like this before?"

Sean could only shake his head at this point.

Mr. Lebrinsky rejoined them in the living room, approaching his son and handing him a tall glass filled with water.

"I think that's enough, agents. He's very upset with everything that he saw and I don't like that he has to go through it again with you."

Getting to his feet, Sam smiled and nodded. "Of course, Mr. Lebrinsky. Sean has helped us a lot. Please keep my card and call us if he remembers anything more."

"You did great, Sean. Thank you. If you remember anything more have your dad call us, alright?" Dean addressed the still crying kid directly.

When Sean nodded, Dean got to his feet and turned to Mr. Lebrinsky.

"I'm gonna need the contact info of his friends' parents. Barry and Janelle's."

"Shouldn't your agency provide that info?" Mr. Lebrinsky asked with a confused expression.

"They will, but it'll take them longer, Mr. Lebrinsky. The sooner we get to all the witnesses the sooner we'll figure out what's going on here and make sure your community is safe," Sam intervened.

Sighing, but looking persuaded, the man walked to the desk at the other side of the room and retrieved a piece of paper and a pen. Taking out his phone he looked through it and jotted down the names and numbers requested. Handing it to Sam he motioned towards the front door.

"Thank you, agents. Have a good day."

Still standing in the hallway listening, Emily was thinking about Amber. Opening the door to her friend's bedroom, she stepped inside.

"Hey. Food's here. Do you wanna eat here or should I take these to the kitchen?" was Emily's encouragement to her friend.

"Just leave it here, Em, thanks. Can you check if mom's back yet?" her friend asked from where she laid on her bed.

"Sure thing," Emily smiled. Rushing out the room she walked straight to the kitchen, which was still empty. Nora's mom was still at the church. Still hearing the muffled voices of Nora's dad and the FBI agents talking in the hallway, she slipped into the backyard using the back door to prevent being observed.

Taking out her phone, she composed a text in an encrypted chat app and sent it.

"Amber, you around?"

"Hey Emily. Yeah. How ru? What's up?"

"I just saw your dad and uncle. They're FBI agents?"

"How do you know that? Why are you asking?"

" 'Cause they're in my friend's house. They're investigating some fire thing."

"Yeah, it's their latest case. You know the families involved?"

"I know the sister of one of the kids who keeps getting interviewed about this. He's getting really messed up from all of this"

"Shit! Sorry 'bout that. Is he ok?"

"Not really. So, r your brother's FBI agents?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, you saw them, right? Badges, suits, and all."

"So, they dress like FBI agents...or are they FBI agents?"

"They're really investigating this case."

"So, they're FBI agents. Good to know. Wow, this sucks for you."

"Tell me about it."

"Do they have any leads?"

"They have leads. Was your friend's brother able 2 tell them anything?"

At this too accurate detail, that the kid being interviewed was a boy, Emily was a bit taken back. This was freaky.

"How'd you know it was her brother?"

Realizing she wasn't editing herself enough, and this was tricky, Amber spun her luck.

"Just a lucky guess."

"I heard them talking to Sean. He was really upset. He didn't talk much. They just left."

"Well, I'm sure they managed to get the intel they need from him. Hey, let me know if anything comes up, alright? If you need me to tell them anything or ask them for something, I'll help."

Seeing Dean and Sam walking towards the Impala, where Amber and Claire were hunkered down, Amber was still on her cellphone. Claire, not having hers, was curious who Amber was texting. Leaning towards her, attempting to be stealth, Claire was starting to read some of the visible texts as they scrolled up in the thread. Doing this stealth reconnaissance, she'd already figured out Amber's password.

Silently scanning their messages, Claire was getting the idea that this Emily person knew a bit more than she should, given their one-and-only encounter in the coffee house.

"You know the victims?"

Startled eyes shot up to Claire's. Not knowing how to answer this, Amber's mouth dropped open and remained silent. Claire, seeing Amber's reaction, knew she'd caught something big.

Sam and Dean were nearly at the Impala now, their FBI disguises sharply contrasting with the leafy neighborhood sidewalk. Sending Claire a look that clearly spelled "shut up", Amber simply looked down at her phone and locked it.

The front doors of the Impala squeaking open, Sam and Dean climbed in turning to look at Amber.

"That girl from Target… She's in there," Dean informed his sister, eyes measuring her expression and trying to figure out what was going on.

"I know. She just texted me that she saw you guys. She's a friend of the kid's sister," Amber nodded.

"She texted you?" Dean was looking at her suspiciously.

Frustrated that Dean also assumed the worst, Amber let out a huff.

"Yeah, Dean, she saw you two in there and recognized you. Of course she texted me!"

"So she just happens to be involved in this? Doesn't that strike you as weird?" Dean pressed on.

"Well, she lives in the area… It's a coincidence. What do you expect me to say? You've checked her yourselves and she's not a demon or anything. It's not my fault she's a friend of the family!"

"So, what has she said?" Dean turned further around in his seat to look Amber in the eye, his face a stony demand.

"Well, she wasn't so sure about you guys being legit, either," Amber answered with a smirk. "But I think I managed to make her buy it. She just wanted to know if you have any leads. She seemed worried. I told her to contact me if anything comes up."

"OK. I still don't like that she's here. This doesn't seem right," Dean insisted.

"It's not the first time this has happened to us, Dean," Sam intervened. "Zach and Becky… All the times we bumped into people we knew one way or another in cases… This could be just what it looks like."

"Yeah, 'cause that's how things always are like when we're involved," Dean scoffed. "Anyways, keep us updated, Amber. I want to know if she contacts you again and everything she tells you, got it?"

"Sure," was the only thing Amber felt like saying after this grilling. God, Dean was being his usual overbearing self, but she didn't want to bring any more attention to her contact with Emily. The less this was mentioned the better. The last thing she needed was for anyone to catch onto the fact that she and Emily had met more than once.

Exchanging a look, the brothers seemed to have an unspoken understanding, with Dean casting one last glance into the back seat at Amber before turning back around and staring out the windshield.

"So… Where to now?" Claire asked.

"Ask Sammy. He's in charge," Dean answered with a shrug.

Turning the key in the ignition, Sam shook his head at his brother's childish attitude but didn't comment on it.

"There are two more families to visit and see if we can dig anything more up. Then these youth group leaders. We got some interesting info from Sean. He seemed to believe it was one of the kids, one of his friends, that caused the fire. With her mind."

"Wow…. Gotta meet her, sounds cool," Claire commented.

"You won't. You two wouldn't pass for adults and we can't really risk trying to pass you as FBI interns either. But I want you to do some research on fire-relevant lore. Anything from creatures to ceremonies you can find. Make a list. We'll figure out ways to narrow it down later. That will keep you busy while we conduct the interviews," was Sam's directions, as he started driving in the mostly empty roads of this neighborhood.

"Yeah… Not like we could go grab a coffee or some sleep at the motel," was Claire's snarky retort. She didn't appreciate this investigation stuff. If she were in charge, she'd get to the bottom of this real quick.

"You wanted to join a hunt, Barbie. When we're on a hunt we're working, so suck it up," was Dean's remark, eyes glancing at Claire through the rearview mirror.

Looking over at Claire, Amber was feeling that this girl was a real danger to herself...what with her casual approach to safety, investigation, and backup. Briefly remembering the hunts Dean had extracted her from, she wondered how Claire ever got out of those without him taking a whack at her. She was feeling some of Dean's own frustration towards this girl.

"Fine… I said I'd do this your way and I am. I still think we're losing valuable time without getting anywhere," Claire shrugged.

"That's how a hunt goes down, Claire. You do your research, you collect your clues, you figure out what you're hunting, and how to end it. You don't run around firing shotguns hoping you'll kill the thing."

"Your hunts, not mine," was Claire's snide response.

The brothers exchanged a look and both Amber and Claire caught it.

"What, you have something to say?" was Claire's defensive response.

Amber just looked away, a half-smile on her face, having a very good idea of what the two brothers meant in their look.

Sam looked in the rearview mirror at the two girls, Amber with her crooked smile and Claire with a frown. Yep, these two were very, very different.

"Claire, just follow our orders and see how it goes. We need your eyes and ears. This is a tough case and you may be the one who unlocks this for us."

Dean was trying to smooth things over, like Claire's feelings, and gain her cooperation. Claire saw this, too. However, she also felt she had a superior approach and she could find critical intel. Then she'd prove her point...that she did know what she was doing. Dropping this for now she only looked out of her window.

"Amber, what does Emily say about any of this? Did she tell you anything that could be of help to us?" Sam asked, changing the direction of their conversation.

"No, Sam. I already told you, she was just suspicious that you two, of all people, ended up on this investigation. If Emily finds out anything, she said she'll text or call."

"Right. Well, you two can start your fire research. Amber, you can use your phone and Claire you can borrow my laptop. Dean, hand it over to her please."

Claire, wanting to know what the men found out, turned her questioning on them.

"What new intel did you guys get out of your little interview in there?" jaw set, eyes half-closed in stealth.

"That Sean likes transformers and his friend Janelle sets people on fire for cursing," Dean said tiredly as he handed the backpack with Sam's laptop to her. "Do your research. We're nowhere near done here."

"Who was there...with all these kids?"

"Their youth group leaders or whatever. A Sister Karen and a Father Michael. According to Sean, they were outside of the church when the fire happened talking to the parents of one of the kids."

"I bet they're it," Claire said with certainty.

"They're it?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, you know… The creatures, or the witches, or the demons, or whatever this is… I bet they're it."

"Yeah, we're gonna need a bit more proof than your Scooby-Doo gut, Claire," Dean snorted.

Opening the laptop with a shrug the blonde mumbled, "Whatever!"

"Wait. The kid said another kid set the janitor on fire?" Amber was trying to piece together the fragmented clues that her brothers had casually mentioned.

"No, she didn't set the janitor on fire. She had fire in her eyes and she was angry at the janitor for cursing in the church. That was the kid's description. He didn't get any farther in his description than that," Dean clarified.

"Didn't get any farther?" Amber was confused.

"Yeah. The kid only told us this fact after we asked his father to get him a glass of water. Apparently, he wasn't supposed to tell anyone that Janelle 'had fire in her eyes'...or something like this. So, blasphemy outrage from a preteen."

"So our first suspect is this Janelle kid, right?" Amber concluded.

"You got a priest, a nun, and three kids involved in this…and you suspect the kid?" Claire asked, incredulously.

"Well, you heard Sean's description," Amber countered.

"The kid saw someone burning alive for fuck's sake! Of course he saw things that weren't there. And guess what… Eyes reflect! He probably just saw Janelle's eyes reflecting the flames," Claire attempted to support her argument.

"With all of these preteens, it could be any number of things attracted to this place. At that age, the growing but immature sexual energy can attract a lot of different types of entities."

"Yeah, like priests and nuns," was Claire's sarcastic response.

Involuntarily, Dean and Amber started laughing at this. It was totally inappropriate and they couldn't help it. Claire could be funny….in a really dark way. Sam frowned at this while Claire just sat there looking rather pleased with herself.

"So, while you guys are laughing it up, I'm going to set you some parameters for your own research."

Looking in the rearview mirror Sam continued with his instructions.

"Fire is too broad of a category, so I'm going to have you look at specific uses of fire, such as spontaneous human combustion, anything religious and fire-related, and people who've used their eyes to set fire to things."

"Oh come on! This isn't the X-men! That's not even a thing, Sam," was Claire's incredulous whine.

"A clue is a clue," was Sam's resolute reply. "If you want to whine about this, that's fine, but you're still doing it."

"Boy, I can tell you and Dean are related."

Dean, rather amused by this whole interaction, just looked over at Sam, who was stoney-faced, looking forward, hands on the wheel.

Amber couldn't help but smile, too. It was funny. And it wasn't very often Sam was the butt of a joke...aside from Dean's jokes. Damn, Claire was sounding like she could be related to Dean. Keeping her eyes focused out the window, Amber let this thought play across her secret smile.

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"That's the last of them and we still don't have much."

Dean was walking back from the last of the three kids who'd witnessed the janitor bursting into flames. That Janelle kid, she wasn't easy. Temperamental and whiney, she'd not been cooperative and had given them a hard stare. And no, it hadn't caused them to catch on fire, but they'd bet that one was going to grow up to be a privileged white woman. She'd been spoiled by her parents..and the priest and nun seemed to have spoiled her, too. The funny thing was that Janelle said something the other children had not: She was always the first one to receive her snack, always placed at the head of the line and apparently received the most praise from Father Michael, and Sister Karen. This had been heard from the other kids and from Janelle herself.

Walking back to the Impala, Dean the brothers realized they just weren't any closer to understanding this than they'd been before their interviews began.

"Now what?"

Dean was tired and finding that the last 'little button' had set his teeth to grinding.

"Now we wait. The priest and nun can't see us today, so we'll have to see them tomorrow. Let's hope that the girls found out something useful," Sam said in an equally tired voice. This was shaping up to be one of those cases that dragged out for days and he didn't like it.

"One thing that's standing out, and I know why Sean saw fire in her eyes, but it seems there's something more about her that keeps eating away at me about this Janelle girl."

"Yeah, she's a 'Bad Seed', Sam."

Frowning at his brother, he continued.

"No, it's more. I don't know exactly what's standing out to me, but something is."

"Well, we'll see what the girls have come up with and get some dinner. I could use a beer before we settle in for a night of research." Dean was being practical. He knew this was going to be a hard nut to crack. God, he wished he could call Bobby.

Walking up to the Impala they saw Claire reclining against her door, sitting indian style on the backseat, laptop resting on her lap. Amber was half-sprawled on her side of the car, both legs propped up against the passenger seat. Both of them looked tired and annoyed. Not a good combination.

Climbing into the car, Sam turned to face them with an apologetic expression on his face.

"This took longer than we thought it would. But we'll get to the motel soon and you'll get to stretch your legs. We'll grab some dinner and take a break, too. How does that sound?"

"About time," Amber mumbled.

"Did you find anything juicy?" Dean asked next.

"Other than the fact that a whole lot of people ship the hell out of Starfire and Phoenix?" Claire quipped tiredly.

"Yeah, Claire, other than that," Dean shook his head.

"According to our research pyrokinesis is only linked with dragons, mutants, and psychics. Now mutants don't exist, but we do know psychics are real. Could this be another member of Azazel's freaky team? No offense, Sam," Claire asked back.

Sam looked uncomfortable at this. Claire knew way too much. Still, he considered her words.

"To our knowledge, Azazel stopped finding possible vessels a very long time ago. Besides, Dean killed him ten years ago. Now Janelle being eleven years old...I doubt he'd target a kid at that point. He wanted his army of special children all juiced up and ready to be Lucifer's vessel by then," Sam replied.

"Then Dragon it is," Claire said tiredly. "Or a mutant. Take your pick."

"And Little Miss Sunshine in there was no help. If anything I'd say she felt like a Kardashian without her phone camera filter. Nothing was good enough for her." Dean's complaint was met by unmoved eyes. The girls were tired.

"So, she was a spoiled brat. What else is new? It's a private school Dean," was Amber's accurate response.

"Sean was cool," Dean shrugged.

"Food!" Claire all but yelled. "And a bed. I can't stand sitting down for another minute!" She huffed and slumped back down in her seat. She was really tired.

Starting the car, Sam drove carefully out of their parking spot and into the road.

"Keep an eye out for a diner or pizza place...or whatever else we can find around here," he said, placatingly. Waiting a couple of seconds he glanced at Dean, assessing his mood, before asking his next question.

"Anything about eyes and pyrokinesis?"

"Nothing," Amber shook her head. "Is there really a chance that we're talking about a dragon?" She asked next, her voice almost excited. "I didn't think they existed."

"Most hunters don't. But we've encountered one in the past. They're almost extinct, but there probably still are a few of them out there. I doubt a dragon was behind this though. Dragons mainly target virgin women," Sam explained.

"No wonder they're going extinct," Claire quipped. "I swear, the fucking patriarchy even exists in the monsterverse. To hell with them!"

Three surprised sets of eyes turning to stare at the blonde, her eyebrows raising in punctuated questioning.

"What? Am I wrong?"

Amber mulled Claire's words over in her head and decided she liked her comment. Extending her fist for a quick fist bump with her friend she turned to look out of her window.

Dean looked frustrated. Sam, noticing his brother's disgruntlement, simply ignored it. Dean was still the butt of most of Claire's jokes.

"Haha, very funny," sounding like sour grapes and they were. With Claire in the car, it sucked to be him. But he'd survive. Forging ahead in their discussion, Dean redirected their conversation back onto the case.

"Dragons are also after gold… But there was no gold missing. Other than the altar burning down, nothing was touched in the church."

"And they usually live in remote places. Anything from caves to sewers… They can disguise themselves as humans, but they don't live as part of communities. And everyone involved in this case so far is a part of this community," Sam continued, sceptically.

"So, we're left with some sort of psychic with fire powers?" Claire asked.

"What about a witch? A witch could control natural elements like fire," Amber offered.

"She'd need a spell though. A hex bag, a sigil, something," Sam reasoned. "They can channel natural elements but only through ceremonial practices."

"Right… Well, Cas mentioned in the past that archangels can manipulate natural elements, too," Amber mentioned.

"That's true. But I doubt an archangel would pick a child's body as a vessel. Let alone set a church on fire," Sam said with a shake of his head.

"Setting people on fire, sure… It's churches where they draw the line," Claire commented drily, making Amber snort loudly.

"You know what that means?" Dean asked faking excitement.

"Please don't say more research," Amber whined, certain the answer was more research.

"A helluva lot more research," Dean confirmed.

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"Whose phone is that?"

Everyone except Claire dug out their own cell phones, searching for the ringing they were all hearing.

Amber, feeling the vibration in her pocket flipped hers open. It was Emily calling. This didn't feel like it was going to be a good conversation.

"Hey Emily. What's up?" was her greeting.

At the mention of the other girl's name, Dean's eyes turned to Amber, alarmed, a frown setting on his face.

Looking at her brother, Amber gave him the "just drop it" look, not wishing to have an argument over this. It must be important or she wouldn't be calling her this late.

"What? When did this happen?" Amber's expression was alarmed. Dean and Sam, looking on, were tensing up. Claire watched with interest, not the least of which was interest in how the two men were reacting.

"What's going on?" was Dean's impatient and demanding grumble. He felt excluded from critical intel and it was pissing him off.

"I'm so sorry… Hey look, I'll give my dad and uncle a heads-up, but you might want to call them in a few minutes. Speak to them directly. I'll share their contact info with you. They'll be able to help a lot more than I can. And they'll know what to ask, possibly come over to the house…"

Amber scrolled through her contacts and punched a few buttons, returning the phone to her ear.

"You got their number?... Okay, cool. Just give me a couple of minutes and call them, alright?"

Hanging up, Amber was met by both Sam and Dean's inquiring looks.

"How long have you and this Emily been in contact?" was Dean's knee-jerk response, followed by Sam's foot kicking him under the table.

"Hey, what was tha…."

"Dean, she just directed Emily to us. She's helping us and keeping us in the loop. Just cool it," was Sam's de-escalation cut off Dean's overbearing control issues. Claire was amused at how, despite the clarity of Dean and Sam being Amber's brothers, Dean still acted like he was Amber's dad. That whole schtick hadn't been an act.

Sam, although also concerned about how long these two had been talking and when, understood this wasn't nearly as important as what was happening right now. The rest could wait.

"Yeah, Dean, cool it," Amber repeated Sam's words, frustrated. "That's not important right now anyways… Sean's gone missing."

"What? When?" Dean asked, sitting taller in his chair, shoulders tensing, and completely focusing on what had happened to the kid he'd spoken to earlier that day. That kid had been so scared. Dean, felt his heart drop a bit, having a connection to this victim.

"They found him gone from his bed about an hour ago. He was tucked in at ten thirty, as always, so I'm guessing somewhere between then and now. That's all I got from Emily. She'll be calling you soon, you can ask her the details yourself."

Dean's phone rang, he answered with, "Yeah."

Sam and Amber both frowned at Dean's lack of encouraging demeanor. Amber hoped Emily would open up to Dean. But she wasn't sure why she would after a greeting like this.

"Who am I speaking to? Holy-water-flinging guy or ridiculously-angry-shouting guy?"

Caught off guard, Dean reflected on how to answer this. Well, he didn't fling holy water on her.

"Sam was the one with the holy water, I'm Amber's dad."

"Oh, so you're Dean. You still sound angry."

"I thought this was about Sean?"

"It is. He's gone. Can you help us find him or is that too hard for you and your bureau? It's not like the cops have been any help."

"You called the cops? When?" Dean was alarmed as this would be more complicated.

"We found him gone an hour ago. Called them immediately. They sent a couple of cars out but say they can't do much at this time. They think he just ran away and won't take this seriously."

"Any signs of a break-in? Front door, back door, windows?" Dean asked curtly registering the intel he was getting.

Sam had his laptop out and opened up, digging into what he could find on the internet. Amber was reviewing her notes on her cellphone, continuously looking up as she listened to Dean's side of this conversation. Claire was seeing the strength of the united force of the Winchesters. It was formidable. Leaning over to look at Amber's cell phone screen, Claire was reviewing Amber's organized notes, and the connections she'd drawn from the intel they had put together. Amber was good. However, Claire's own deductions had already been drawn.

"Nothing. His window was unlocked, but not broken into. He wouldn't run away. That's not like Sean. And he was still very upset with everything that happened. He had trouble falling asleep in his room, he wouldn't want to be out in the night alone."

"His parents and sister are all there? Were all four of you together this whole time?" Dean continued his interrogation.

"Yes, we've been in the same room for more than five hours now, talking about this shitstorm. And don't go implying one of us did it. We'd never hurt Sean. None of us," was Emily's aggressive answer.

"Hey! I don't like your tone. You're not helping Sean or me figure this thing out by getting all defensive! So, get it together and think long and hard about every little detail that has happened throughout this night, because these are the only leads we're gonna have to find this kid. Am I clear? We'll be there in half an hour."

Hanging up before Emily could even get out a response, Dean turned to face his audience.

"Can't you even try to act like a normal person?" Amber asked, evidently angry at the way he had talked to her friend.

Shooting Amber a warning look, Dean grabbed his half-empty mug of coffee and downed the last of its contents. He was frustrated, tired, and running on minimum sleep as it was. This was going to be a long night and Amber's testy attitude had started really getting at him.

"Get your stuff. We're out of here, now!" Dean spat his orders. Both Sam and Amber sighed. Claire, observing this all, had a calculating smile on her face. If she hung back, just went along with Dean's drill sergeant act, she could get where she needed to go and be positioned to prove her point. She was figuring Dean out.

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The Transformer figures were all lined up, contrasting each other in their complexity and functionality. Next to these figures, were a collection of Yu-Gi-Oh figurines. Sean was an active, engaged, smart kid who kept all his models dusted and lined up on display.

Studying the Transformers, caught in their cool gadgets and contrasting weapons, Dean momentarily forgot he was in Sean's room looking for clues.

"Dean, take a look at this," Sam called out. There was a scapular tucked into the top drawer of Sean's small desk.

Dean's focus shifted from the small item in Sam's hands to his eyes, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Yeah, Sam. The kid's Catholic… Attends a private Catholic school. What's so shocking about a scapular?"

"The fact that he would normally be wearing it," Sam answered.

"Maybe the parents don't want it on while he's sleeping… Strangulation hazard or whatever… Come on, man, focus! What will you show me next, a rosary? The kid's missing and we got nothing!"

Sam kept fumbling with the soft material of the item. He remembered a couple of classmates he used to have in fourth grade who'd worn these. Sam had been so impressed when they'd told him they never took them off. This didn't feel right. And they wore them under their clothes. He'd only seen them when they were changing in gym class.

"Dean, I think I have something. There's something in here."

Rubbing one of the cloth icons between his forefinger and thumb, Sam could feel a small object sewn into a pouch that shouldn't be there. The scapulars were flat, single pieces of cloth with the images of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Mary, one on each icon. Worn like a necklace, these cloth images draped down, front and back, to cover the wearers' heart and the corresponding place over their back. They didn't have pouches, but this one did and there was something in it.

"What? Like a hex-bag?" Dean asked, now alarmed.

"I don't know. Hand me a pair of scissors."

Cutting the edge of the fabric carefully, Sam sat on Sean's bed and used a finger to feel inside the opening. Retrieving a round metallic coin he brought it close to his face for closer inspection. On the one side, a staff was engraved with repeating crescent moons radiating upwards from its middle, and corresponding downward-facing crescent moons. There was also a scorpion and a snake. Sam had never seen anything like this before. Flipping the coin over, he spotted a star-burst shape formed by four staff intersecting at a central point, with four of the staff having a triangle-shaped head on their end, vaguely resembling the symbol of chaos, even though the arrows were reversed and on only four of the eight lines. This gave the impression of each of the four staff having a handle. The coin was rusted, with orange-red oxidation all over it...as if it was intentionally left to corrode.

"Dean, this looks like an ancient symbol. I've never seen these symbols before." Seeing closely at the coin, and flipping it in his hand, Sam passed it to Dean to inspect up close. Taking his turn to flip and inspect this object, Dean was struck by the symbols, particularly the scorpions and the snake. Scorpions were never associated with "nice" things.

"I don't know Sam. This doesn't feel good. No Sacred Heart to Jesus going on here."

Sam, nodding, understood even more. The star-bursts formed from the four intersecting staff. This was a symbol of creation, but who was creating what?

"Okay, let's get the girls and go figure this out. This is our only lead and the clock is ticking. And we still need to get a hold of that Father Michael and Sister Karen first thing in the morning," Dean said, pocketing the coin and scanning the room around them one last time.

Seeing nothing, they encountered the older sibling and parents of the missing boy.

Arms folded across his chest, Sean's father looked tense. His eyes were sunken and he looked like he hadn't slept...because he hadn't.

"Agents, did you find anything?" Sean's mother stepped closer to the two FBI officers, looking hollow-eyed and gaunt, her face open and desperate.

"We appreciate you letting us into Sean's room. Do you recognize this?" Dean said, holding the coin out to them to see. Leaning in, Sean's parents and older sister peered at the small coin, Dean allowing them to see the one face before turning it over for them to see the opposing symbol.

Looking up at Dean, then to Sam, Sean's older sister had something to say.

"I've seen that one, the star-shape. It was embroidered on the altar cloth in our church. Why? Is this something?"

The brothers exchanged a look. How much to share. They didn't know much at all.

"Can you tell us more about this symbol?" Dean was hoping to get some answers quick.

Looking back at her parents, who looked confused and concerned, Nora looked uncomfortable.

Amber and Claire, cradling mugs of steaming tea, watched discreetly. Sean's family was more than surprised when the two FBI agents appeared on their doorstep along with two teenage girls. The family, along with Emily, stopped asking questions though, when Dean gruffly reminded them they were there as a favor to help them find Sean and he didn't want to risk leaving his daughter and niece alone in a motel room in the middle of the night.

Claire had to put her hand over her mouth and pretend she was coughing to hide the snort that escaped her with her elevated title during the investigation. Earning an elbow jab from Amber she quickly schooled her expression and they were all invited inside. The two of them had stayed in the living room with Emily and Nora, while Sam and Dean had gone into Sean's room to search for any kind of clues on his disappearance. They both would have preferred to be in there with the boys, but there was no way they could explain this to Sean's family. Sam and Dean would have to fill them in later in the privacy of the Impala.

"Well, I've also seen it on the vestments of Father Michael. Sean told me once it was some sort of paleochristian symbol. Why?"

"Has Father Michael been at St. Apollinaris for very long?" Sam was taking charge, going for the anchoring points.

Sean's mother looked at her husband and then back at the brothers. "Father Michael and Sister Karen have been in the local diocese for about seven years. We're a small community compared to Chicago or New York. So, all of the local Catholic churches and schools share halls, gyms, stages, and choir practice.

"Do you happen to know where they were serving before coming here seven years ago?" Sam pressed on.

"Springfield, Missouri, I think," Sean's mother was recalling what she'd heard from other parents.

"Is there anything more you can recall?" Sam had his earnest face on, those puppy-dog eyes dropping the guard of both Sean's mother and sister. He was so concerned for Sean. Sean's father saw this and was momentarily confused. He saw his wife and daughter looking up into the handsome face of this tall FBI officer. Mixed feelings of wishing to help these men out, get his son home safe conflicted with just wishing to get this guy out of his house and off of his wife's radar.

Seeing what was going on, Dean stepped in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lebrinksi, if you think of anything at all, you already got our cards. Call us."

Leaving the house, Dean was mildly upset with Sam. "Couldn't you have been less, oh, boy-toy, about it in there?"

"Boy toy?" Sam spat back, his surprised insult obvious.

"Yeah Sam, boy toy. The wife and daughter were practically ready to enlist your help in creating a replacement for Sean. Just cool it, will you."

"Jealous, any?" was Claire's snark to Dean, earning a murderous glare from him.

"Dude, are you even listening to yourself? I was getting information the same way I'm always getting information! Maybe it's your boy-toy night that didn't do the trick and left you cranky and frustrated," Sam shot right back.

The two men were back at the Impala now and were still arguing.

Claire and Amber were snickering as they followed the boys, listening to their exchange.

"Any chance we could focus on the case?" Amber intervened, trying to keep the amusement out of her tone. She had witnessed Sam and Dean banter numerous times in the past couple of months, but this was the first time that they seemed to actually have a beef with each other. It felt nice to watch this as an observer and not being the focus of their arguments.

"Yeah, you need to fill us in. What's with the coin?" Claire added impatiently.

"They need to fill you in?" Emily's voice sounded, making all four heads turn around in time to watch her approach, arms crossed in front of her chest and looking at them suspiciously.

"What the hell is going on here?"

Oh shit, Emily had heard them. Now what? All four hunters looked at Emily, pensive expressions all around. Emily saw that she'd landed a bull's eye.

Amber saw that she had to get in between her brothers and Emily or they were going to lose a key proponent of their investigation. Turning to her brothers, Amber acted without thinking.

"Let me handle this."

Wordlessly, Dean, Sam, and Claire heard Amber talking in their minds. It was startling, yet strong enough to command compliance from them all. Sam and Dean exchanged a slightly alarmed look, but remained silent. This was a first for Amber. They'd been updated on how she'd experienced this type of communication with Cas, but to their knowledge she'd never have it with a human before now.

Turning to Emily, Amber took a step closer to her.

"Look, I know this looks weird, but I can explain," she told her old friend in a placating tone.

"I'm all ears," Emily replied, looking Amber straight in the eye.

"Look, me and Claire… We've seen my dad and uncle working some cases and we're really liking the idea of giving this a go once school's over. The FBI thing. And since there've been times they've dragged us along to wherever cases they're assigned at the time, we've kinda helped out. Think of it as a training program. An internship. But it's not official and if the bureau found out they'd lose their jobs, so we're keeping a low profile. We're just offering fresh insight on the things they find out as they work through the cases, that's all," Amber tried.

Sam blinked, having a hard time believing that this was Amber's excuse. That girl had orchestrated escape acts and played them more than once, successfully might he add, and she couldn't come up with something better right now?

Dean almost groaned, seeing the suspiciousness and distrust in Emily's face only growing with each word that left Amber's mouth. "'Let me handle this' my ass," he mumbled quietly, bringing a hand to scrub at his face. This was such a shitshow.

Claire simply shook her head and took the few steps to the Impala, sitting on its hood and watching the scene unfolding with interest.

"An internship? They're training you? On FBI cases?" Emily's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Fuck you, Amber! I'm gonna tell the Lebrinskys you're scams and you can pick this up with them and the cops!"

Panicking, Amber called out urgently, "No, Em, wait! Not the cops! C'mon! You wouldn't call the cops on me!"

Those words seemed to have some effect, as the girl paused her angry steps and she turned to face Amber once more.

"No more bullshit, I promise! But… The truth might make even less sense than the bullshit, so keep that in mind, okay?"

Only raising an eyebrow, Emily waited expectantly.

"Look, they're not FBI. They're private investigators and specially trained for… weird cases. Cases that police usually can't figure out. Cases like this one. They've helped more families than you can imagine… With...Issues nobody else thought real or possible. They're good, Em. And yes the FBI training was bull, but they are training us to work in the business. The family business. Their father did this before them and taught them and now they're teaching us. We believe something bad is happening here. More than what meets the eye. And Sean is in danger."

Mulling this alternative explanation over, this made more sense. Emily did see why Amber wouldn't be so honest about the 'truth'. It was just...irregular. Looking back at Amber, Emily could indeed see the honesty in Amber's face, and the fear. This was the first time she hadn't been able to trust her friend. Amber had always been such a trusted friend in their previous foster care homes. That had been a long time ago. Had Amber changed? Could she be trusted?

"You're still very vague. None of this makes sense. What bad is happening? What are you suspecting?" She asked Amber impatiently.

"They just found our first strong lead, so I don't have those answers yet. But… Sean told them the fire was not a freaky accident. He believed one of his friends made it happen. So we're trying to figure out how and who's behind this," Amber attempted to explain without giving anything out and freaking Emily out completely.

Seeing Emily still unconvinced Amber added, "Look, what do you have to lose? The police are already on this. We're just an extra asset. And it's not like they took Sean's disappearance seriously. We do. We do. And I'll keep you posted, I promise."

"I want to come with you." This was intriguing and if Amber was involved, she wanted to be involved. Her statement was met with abject refusal.

"No fucking way," Dean called from where he stood.

"Why? If what you're saying is true, I can be a fresh pair of eyes," she argued looking at the man, annoyed with his attitude.

"You'll just be in the way slowing us down. We need to work fast and we need to be able to move around town chasing leads," Dean said.

"Then I guess I go tell Sean's parents that you're fake and that they've opened this investigation to imposters."

Emily let this sink in. She was met with stares all around. Claire was impressed by this girl's balls. A tough position for Dean and Sam, for sure. Claire was intrigued. Not many young people would outright threaten these guys.

"No, you won't, because then our chances of ever finding Sean diminish. You're already wasting valuable time, Emily, time we could be spending coming closer to finding Sean," Sam intervened in a much kinder tone. He knew if he didn't de-escalate this immediately Dean would inflame this beyond all repair.

"Look, you can be of help by just staying here and keeping an eye out for anything we might've missed. I heard Nora earlier saying that Sister Karen would pay a visit tomorrow. We think she could be involved. If you're here you'll be able to tell us what she said and how she acted," Amber tried.

"So, I'm part of this investigation?" It sure sounded like it to Emily.

"Yes, you're what we'd call an asset. And I promise we'll keep you posted and have you join us if we have the chance," Amber threw in, in an attempt to get Emily to agree.

Emily seemed to mull this over before finally nodding. "Fine."

"I'll call you first thing in the morning," Amber smiled. "Goodnight, Em."

The four of them watched the girl send them a final measuring glare before turning her back and heading back towards the house.

"Good job! Now we have a civilian to baby-sit," Dean spat out, turning his glare on the two girls.

"Well, if you weren't so busy whining about Sam getting all the attention, we might've heard her coming out of the house," Amber shot right back.

"Emily 1: Dean 0," was Claire's observation.

"Keep it up, Barbie. Let's see your score by the end of the night," Dean growled, before heading to the Impala and getting behind the wheel.

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The junkyard still looked the same, decrepit. As the Impala approached the cyclone fencing, Amber was seeing this fabled place for the first time...and was a bit confused. Looking over at Claire, the two girls exchanged a look, with Claire shrugging her shoulders. She'd been here before. Not inside his house, but she had paid the junkyard a visit. And Bobby's place was inside a junkyard.

"A flash-trip to Sioux Falls was not what I expected for this morning," Claire said, looking around her with mild interest. She sounded more cheerful than she had been in quite a while. She was promised a brief visit to Jody's even if it was just for a quick hello and goodbye. They had called her while driving there and Jody promised she'd try to meet them at Bobby's.

Getting out, Sam knew how to unlock the padlock securing the gated entry, and walked it open as Dean drove the Impala through. Relocking the fence, Sam got back in the Impala, glancing in the backseat to see the girls' eyes big and inquiring. He'd felt the same way his first time here long, long ago.

"So, not that I'm complaining, but wouldn't it be easier for us to go to the Bunker's library for more resources instead of here?" Claire asked as they drove along the gravel road towards the old two-story house.

"Because I know Bobby has at least a couple of books that can give us an answer to what that coin is. I'm not sure we have anything like that at the Bunker. It'll also be a good opportunity to take those with us. Add them to the library and have them handy," Sam explained.

"Stealing from a dead guy?" Amber asked, raising one eyebrow in a very Dean-manner.

"It's not stealing. It's kind of ours. Bobby left us the house and everything in it. We've just never really had the time to check out the house and take what we needed," Sam answered.

"So we could live here instead of the bunker? Why don't we? We'd be right next to Jody," Amber said, excitedly.

"No, we couldn't. It's not as safe as the bunker," Dean shot down. Shooting the girls a glance through the rearview mirror he added, "Plus, I don't need you two so close to each other on a regular basis. I've been to hell. I don't want to relive that."

Frowning, Claire shot Dean a sour look in the rearview mirror, while Amber rolled her eyes. Dean simply smirked right back at her. "Facts are facts."

"According to you," was Claire's disgruntled complaint.

"Yes, according to me and I'm the one who's determining what the facts are. Deal with it, Barbie."

Claire sunk back into the seat, a frown on her face, but otherwise silent as they drove the dirt road up to the house, dust billowing behind them settling on the old cars. It was kind of pretty in a dystopian way.

Pulling up a few feet from the front porch, the four of them got out of the car and stared at the house. The peeling blue paint, the white windows secured with boards from the inside so that nobody could enter the house. Not easily at least. The wooden porch was filthy and looked like it had seen better days.

Amber took in the sight of the house and thought it was nice. Old, abandoned, and dirty, but still nice. It reminded her of a picture in a book she had read when she was about nine. That picture of that home that so resembled Bobby's was what she always thought a family home would look like. And having lived in her first home, an abandoned house, she saw the liveability and potential not easily seen by another. This house invoked layers of fond feelings in Amber.

Opening the front door, Dean led the way, looking around. It looked the same just dustier. Booted feet walking across the wood floor, the footfalls reverberations left a sound this place hadn't heard in years. Closing the door behind her, Claire brought up the rear, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. She saw a small hallway and stairs leading up and what looked like a basement door. Up ahead, Dean and Sam were turning the corner. Amber was taking this all in, the smells, the old curtains, the wallpaper, this had been a nice house once. Someone had loved this place. And it didn't seem like a man's taste had decorated this home. Amber wondered if Bobby had had a wife.

"Was Bobby ever married?"

Both Sam and Dean turned to look back at her, still in a moment of sad reflection. Exchanging a look, Sam replied, "Yeah. Bobby had a wife, but she died a long time ago."

Dean's face clouded and he turned away, heading toward the library. "After she died, Bobby lived here alone the rest of his life," Sam offered, his own face somber. Neither amber nor Claire felt like asking anymore. This was clearly a sad spot for both men.

Amber felt a wave of sadness at this disclosure. Bobby sounded like a lonely man. She had heard lots of stories about him, but this was the first time she ever thought of him in this light. Amber, following behind her brothers, Claire a few steps behind her, the four of them crossed into the kitchen area before turning to the left. Entering a room that looked like something between a library and a living room. The walls were lined with tall, wooden shelves filled with books. The sturdy shelving reached to the ceiling and lined the wall behind a huge desk and the corner wall on its left. On the other side, there was a large leather sofa and a few shorter bookcases. A thick rug covered most of the floor, while boxes and stacks of books were scattered around the room. Dust was everywhere. Amber could see how this place had a soul, but that it had been gone...leaving this shell of a life behind.

Three wooden chairs were in the room, two in front of the desk and one behind. The two out front had dinks and gouges in them. They looked roughed up. Running her hand over the arm of one of the chairs, Dean caught Amber's movement.

"Bobby was in a wheelchair for the last few years of his life. He rammed into things," Dean informed Amber. Claire looked over at Amber, seeing the chair and the gouges.

Mournful eyes meeting his own, Amber looked up at Dean, then at Sam, who'd stopped to listen to Dean. Claire watched this family...this family of hunters remembering one of their own. Momentarily she felt excluded and alone. There were all these little reminders that bobby belonged to them and not her.

This hurt and Sam decided to redirect their focus. Walking over to the tallest of the bookshelves, Sam started scanning titles and categories. Bobby had his own organization system and Sam knew it. So did Dean.

Following suit, Amber walked over to the lower shelves, scanning the books that were there. My god, there were some amazing books. Claire walked over to Amber's side.

"You've never been here before?"

Absently, Amber shook her head. Quietly, she shared her longing. "I wish I'd met him."

Claire understood this and felt the same. Neither spoke further.

Sam pulled a book off a top shelf, opening the front pages to scan the table of contents. Flipping to the referenced section, Sam started scanning through the images for a match of the imprint on the coin they'd found.

Dean, having walked behind the desk, was lost in his own thoughts. How many times had they been dumped at Bobby's by their dad? This place was like a home to them. Tearing up, Dean turned away and rubbed his eyes. Few things could have this effect on him. And being in this house, remembering Bobby, was one of them. Clearing his throat he tried to clear his mind and the fog in his eyes. They had work to do and this didn't help them.

Walking over to Sam, he was curious if his brother had a lead on the images from the coin. Looking over Sam's shoulder, Dean saw some symbols that looked similar to what they'd seen.

"I think that coin comes from Sumeria."

"Sumeria? You mean Mesopotamia... that Sumeria?" Claire heard this exchange and was riveted by this hypothesis. She'd done research into Mesopotamia and had some working knowledge of this time period. She'd even started to learn cuneiform, but hadn't gotten very far.

"Yeah. It looks like these symbols are from that region and time period. Here, take a look at it."

Sam lowered the book a bit, as both Amber and Claire drew close to see what he was talking about. Dean looked over his brother's shoulder, curious as well.

Sam dug the coin out of his pocket and held it up to the illustration on this yellowing page. The smell of paper mites strong.

"See," turning the coin over to reveal the same image he'd found on the page, they looked at it. It was an exact match of the star-burst symbol with the four handles.

"According to this book, this is an ancient symbol for the earliest depiction of a universal god. Monotheism goes back a long way, with other depictions of the many aspects of this one god being gods and goddesses. Kind of like the Hindu god, Atma, who is the one, supreme god in the Hindu religion, and all the other aspects of Atma taking on the images of the pantheon of Hindu gods."

Both Amber and Claire understood this reference.

"So, which god?" was Claire's logical next question.

Flipping the book back to the index, Sam looked up another part and opened this new section, holding his finger on the first part.

"Hmmm…." was all that Sam said, while digesting what he read.

"Sam, you gotta give us more than that," was Dean's mild annoyance. His brother got into his own world when he found a lead...and down the rabbit hole he went, leaving everyone else behind.

"Oh, sorry," Sam said, refocusing to his surroundings with three sets of eyes on him...all looking like they all were relying on him to provide the last answer on the Jeopardy game show.

"So, now what?" Amber asked.

"Now, we take all the books on Sumeria and Mesopotamia that we can find and head back to Wichita. The three of you can look for the rest of the symbols while I'm driving us back. That will save us time," Dean answered her question.

Turning to look at him with an annoyed expression she replied, "You mean that will save you the work!"

Shrugging, Dean fought the urge to smirk. "It's what works best in this situation. Every minute counts."

Knowing he was right about that, Amber crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine, but you get to find the rest of the books. If we're leaving so soon, I want to take a quick look around the house."

"Oooh, me too," Claire piped up walking next to Amber.

Dean seemed ready to shoot this down, but Sam didn't give him the time.

"Then be quick about it. Dean and I will find the rest of the books and we're out of here," he told Amber with finality.

Smiling at him, Amber nodded and turned on her heel to exit the library and head towards the hallway. As she was walking out, Claire right behind her, she could hear Dean's disgruntled voice.

"Seriously, Sam?"

"What?" Sam asked back, his gaze still glued on the page in front of him.

"We'd be finished much faster if they'd help," Dean told him frustrated.

"It won't take them long to roam around the house, Dean," Sam dismissed him. He knew he was right, but right now he didn't really care. Maybe he was still mad at him, or maybe he wanted to give the girls a little something that would make them happy. Maybe a little bit of both. Either way, this is how this was going to happen. He had made the call and Dean would have to shut up and accept it.

"Bitch," Dean mumbled under his breath.

"Jerk," Sam shot right back in an equally quiet tone. Then closing the book and setting it off to the side, he stood to his full height. "I'll start looking on the top shelves. You get the lower ones. We'll get done faster this way. Let's start with the one behind the desk."

Dean's frustration with Sam reached whole new levels at the way he was spoken to and ordered around. Dean wasn't used to being ordered around, but Sam did know what he was doing. Didn't make him feel any better, but he accepted this. It would get things done faster.

Choosing to ignore how many times, how many more times, he had done this to Sam, shelved his discontent. Right now, all he cared about was his frustration and sense of losing control. He hoped Sam got over his bitching soon, or he didn't know what he'd do. It had been too long since the two of them had a serious fight, but they were getting there.

Coming back down the stairs a few minutes later, Claire and Amber rejoined the brothers.

"Pretty much an abandoned house," was all Claire said. Amber was quiet, digesting her own thoughts.

Turning to the girls, Dean barked his order, "Come help us gather up these books. We're taking them with us."

The sound of a car pulling up on the gravel path outside the house made both girls glance at Dean once before shooting out of the room and towards the front door.

Parking her police cruiser, Jody got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Seeing the Impala, she knew the Winchesters were here. Knocking on Bobby's front door, and then walking in, Jody was met by grins and bright eyes from the two girls coming down from the exploration of the house.

"Claire, god it's so good to see you," was Jody's loud greeting, hugging the blonde around the shoulder and planting a kiss on her head. Claire looked up at the sheriff and quickly returned the half-hug, feeling so happy to see Jody. Caught entirely off guard, Claire felt herself tear up, and turned away, not wishing for anyone to see her. She succeeded in concealing this and allowed this woman to give her another thorough squeeze. It felt good to have Jody close again, personal space be damned. Amber watched this and smiled. She was happy for Claire and she was next in line for one of Jody's hugs.

"Hey there Amber. Not letting go of Claire, Jody reached towards Amber with her free arm, encouraging the girl to come to her, which Amber did. Squeezing Amber tightly as well, and planting a kiss on her head too, Jody was content to hug her girls. She'd missed them both so much. And Claire, she'd wondered how Claire had been since the 'attitude adjustment' by Dean. Gazing at her, Claire seemed fine. If anything, her eyes seemed a bit more clear, confident without being cocky. Huh? This was a first.

"So, how did Christmas dinner turn out?"

Looking between the two girls, Jody waited for the response, pretty sure it had all worked well.

"It was sooo good," was Amber's response, a big smile on her face. Claire, less exuberant, grinned and added a laconic, "Yeah."

Sam and Dean, carrying three huge volumes of books each emerged from the other room.

"Hey, you were able to make it," Dean called out, genuinely happy to see his friend.

Sam's eyes lit up upon seeing Jody with a girl under each arm.

"Just barely, as it seems. You guys seem to have found something helpful," Jody smiled. "Found what you were looking for?"

"Yeah, hopefully our main lead will be explained with one of these," Sam smiled, indicating the books. Handing his stack to Amber he told her, "Will you take these to the car for me?"

Amber took the books and bobbed her head in agreement, walking out from under Jody's arm and towards the Impala.

Dean attempted to do the same with Claire, but was met with a raised eyebrow and her arm still hooked around Jody.

Managing to stifle his grunt of annoyance, he followed his sister to the Impala.

"I'm so happy to see you guys," Jody beamed at Sam. "And all in one piece!"

"Just barely," Sam said with a playful smirk, sending a meaningful look towards Claire, who flushed but remained silent. Jody understood the meaning and said nothing.

"No time for a quick dinner?" Jody asked in a hopeful tone.

"No. We really need to get to the bottom of this and we have a single lead and a missing kid," Sam shook his head.

"We'd have time if we had gone for the priest and the nun," Claire said in a laid-back tone filled with smug certainty.

"Oh, you've cracked this case already, haven't you?" Jody asked, amused.

"I keep telling them, it's the priest and the nun. They've been involved in every fire and disappearance. They won't listen to me." Claire huffed in frustration. She could feel it in her bones. She knew what to focus on and the Winchesters were just slowing her down.

"But like we said, we're gonna need a bit of proof, right Claire? Gut feelings aren't enough in this line of business. Even if they are involved, we have zero idea what they are, or what they're working with. We've only got the one coin."

"Well, we know the coin is Sumerian. That's gonna be a big help," Claire said, sarcastically.

"Claire," Jody chided, jostling the girl's shoulders.

"Just saying…But I'm doing it their way, aren't I?"

Claire shot a look of angered temperance towards Sam, conceding defeat. She was such a hothead.

"I am glad you are," Jody praised with a hint of pride. "Can't wait for you guys to crack this. You can debrief me later, tell me how it all turns out and what you learned that was useful."

"What? Now I got to do homework on hunts too?" Claire asked with a horrified expression.

"You won't have to write it down or anything," Jody smirked. "We'll go over it over the phone. Think of it as an oral version of my police reports. Hunters share their findings all the time. It's how we have each other's backs and lore we find. Sam, here, is really good at this. You should know by now." Smiling down at her, Jody knew Claire had a hard time admitting she was wrong. Claire's silence was her admitting the merit of this argument. Amber, who had passed by them as she went for a second load of books while this discussion took place, went back outside right when this exchange happened. Taking this back and forth between Sam and Claire, Amber was, mentally laughing to herself. The power match struck her as funny: 'Sam 1, Claire 0', went through her mind. Sam got Claire good, but there was no way she was saying THAT out loud.

"Though actually writing these debriefs down would be a great learning experience for both you and Amber," Sam said with a thoughtful expression, causing Claire to gasp in a mixture of terror and shock, as Amber turned to look at him with a horrified expression as she walked past him.

Dean, joining them on the porch, brought their discussion, and Sam's report-writing idea, to an abrupt end. He watched Amber depositing the last load of books into the Impala and waited for her to return to their little gathering on the porch.

"We're ready to go," Dean announced.

"You go ahead. I'll lock up the house for you," Jody offered.

"Thanks, Jody," Sam smiled gratefully. "It was nice seeing you. We'll talk soon. Dean and I wanted to arrange a meeting soon anyway. Maybe you could see about taking a day off and coming over to the bunker?"

Having forgotten about that pending talk, Dean practically winced when Jody immediately nodded.

"Sure thing. You say the word, I'm there. Is everything alright? Should I be worried?"

"No. No need to be worried," Sam tried to sound reassuring. Looking to Claire's face for any information she could glean, Claire masked her own feelings on this subject. Jody would be upset. She could've helped and she would've made better birthday choices had she been included. And Jody would eventually forgive the boys. But yeah, the two men were going to get an earful from the sheriff.

"Yeah, Jody. It's gonna be a nice easy talk, you'll see," Claire smirked, practically picturing the woman's reaction to that particular reveal Sam and Dean had in mind. It would be impressive and funny because her anger wouldn't be directed at her. And she'd get to watch Dean squirm. She'd pay to see that happening.

Eyeing the blonde suspiciously, Jody asked, "You know what this is about?"

Claire nodded with a smug grin. "I do. And you're sooo gonna love it!"

"Okay, we have a missing kid we need to find," Amber piped up, desperate to end this conversation. She was worried over how Jody would react when she found out about her being a Nephilim and she simply couldn't deal with this right now.

"Yeah," Dean grunted out, sending a warning look at Claire. Turning to Jody he tried to wrap this up, "We really need to get going. Don't worry about this. It can wait. We'll make it happen soon."

"You go find the kid and finish up the hunt," Jody immediately nodded. "Keep me posted. Call in any leads and I'll do what I can."

"Will do, bye Jody," Dean said, and leaned in for a quick one-arm hug.

Sam smiled at the woman and followed his brother to the Impala.

Claire reached around the woman for one last hug and really squeezed her this time, taking in her comforting scent. "Talk to you soon, Jody," she said quietly, keeping the mushy things she wanted to share to herself.

"I miss you, Claire. Take care alright? Love you," the woman said affectionately, returning the hug full force. After a few seconds, Claire finally let go and headed towards the car.

Stepping up, Amber hugged Jody, a full hug this time, surprising the woman. Only taking a half second to recover, she hugged the girl back, burying her nose in Amber's hair and slightly rocking her in the embrace. Sam and Dean watched this from the car, feeling this odd sense of happiness and a mild conflict. It was surprising. Sam understood this conflict. He wished Amber and he had this type of a relationship. Dean, well, Dean wanted them to hurry up so he didn't have to feel his feelings.

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"It says it right here, Dean," was Claire's frustrated voice. She'd been telling him about the image she'd found that matched the coin. Sam had asked to see the page, and Claire had handed the open book up to him, holding her finger on the page where the symbol was referenced. The name associated with this Mesopotamian symbol was An. It was the starburst with the four handles.

Sam scanned the page and the text that accompanied it.

"Good job, Claire. That's it. The symbol of An, the Sumerian Father of all the Gods."

"So, what is this? Some nutjob case of ancient God worshiping?" Dean asked, his brow furrowed. "And what does An have to do with burning churches and missing kids?"

Craning her head to see, Amber looked over Sam's shoulder, inspecting the symbol, too.

"Nothing, apparently," was Sam's response. "Says here, An was the All-Father, or more precisely the 'All Parent.' Doesn't seem to have had a fixed gender or any connection to fire. And fire was the common clue between all three incidents in all three churches so far. Plus, An wasn't associated with sacrifices or death. Huh?"

Pausing here as he read further down the page, Sam's face became that resting bitch face Dean teased him about. Amber thought this was funny to watch. And she had a sense of what Sam was discovering.

"But get this, there are other gods who descended from An. Not so surprising, there was a whole pantheon of gods worshipped in Sumeria at this time, and not just those worshiped in Mesopotamia."

"Well, at least we know where to go from here," Sam sighed, regaining some control over his tone and expression. "If it has to do with Sumerian Gods we need to keep looking for the rest of the symbols and see where it leads. My guess is that the father of the gods is depicted on one side of the coin and then another God or deity would be on the other side. So focus on spotting the symbols of a scorpio, a shaft of crescent moons and a serpent," Sam instructed the girls, before returning the book to Claire and burying his face in his own open book."

"Great… Only 151 creepy gods to go through," Amber mumbled having just read the number of known deities and gods worshiped in the area back then.

"Hopefully the one we're looking for won't be on the bottom of the list," Sam said in what he hoped passed as an encouraging tone.

"Plus, we still have about five hours of driving ahead of us, plenty of time for the three of you to spot it," Dean added.

"Please shut up, Dean," Amber mumbled annoyed. He was doing no research and he should keep his trap shut.

"Hey," Dean grunted out. He didn't bark it, but it was in his warning tone.

Amber rolled her eyes, but didn't push him any further. She was still pissed at him for leaving them on Christmas Day. This hunt had shifted her focus, and her frustration, about Dean's disappearing act.

Racing back into the stack of books they'd piled in the back seat of the Impala, Claire was sifting through likely source material. Selecting a smaller, less impressive tome for her next exploration, she opened it to the index. Sure enough, An was listed in this book, too. Claire opened to the indicated page, she started reading. They were getting somewhere now. Then she noted a small reference to the subdieties descending from An. She kept reading. Amber and Sam were buried in their own books, doing the same thing, while Dean drove.

Amber sighed with relief. She'd found a categorization of all the Mesopotamian deities in the book she was currently digging into. There wasn't a specific category for fire gods, but there was one for solar deities. Deciding it was close enough, she turned to the indicated page, scanning the first few names and paragraphs. After a few minutes of silent reading she sat up straighter upon recognizing the meaning of a certain word.

"Sharrapu," she tested the word out loud making all three sets of eyes glance at her.

"Come again?" Dean asked with a confused expression.

"Sharrapu," Amber repeated excitedly. "It means 'the burner'. This solar god Nergal has this title!"

Sam looked up, listening for what else Amber would share. Eyes still on the road, Dean's hearing was now focused on Amber's voice.

"How do you know what it means? Does the book translate it or something? 'Cause none of mine offers any kind of translation of any of this ancient crap," Claire asked, slightly annoyed that Amber beat her to the next clue.

Looking a bit askance, Amber simply stated, "I know what it means." A smug smile forming, she added, "I speak in tongues, Claire."

Sam saw Claire's disbelief and decided to fill in the missing intel for her.

"Claire, Amber being a Nephilim means she naturally has an understanding of all the languages that have ever been spoken by humans, by man. It's part of her angelic grace."

"How do we know her translation is accurate? Just saying," was Claire's jealous response. Sam understood the continuing competition between the girls and wished it wasn't so. They'd started to heal their rift and this could begin another rip before it was really mended.

"She's been right before," Dean supplied before bringing the discussion back into focus. "So this Nergal guy… What else do we have on him?"

"According to this, he was a pissy god. Also known as the 'raging king', or 'the furious one'. He's been linked with war and the underworld. That's all I got here," Amber answered.

"Is there a symbol connected to this Nergal?" Sam knew that once you tugged on a thread, all the connections popped out in a cascading effect, much like the vertical lines from the New York Times Sunday Crossword Puzzle.

Amber shook her head. "None mentioned here. Let's look him up in the rest of the books and see if he's our guy."

"Hey, get this," Sam's tone a minute later was excited.

"Here they mention he was god of war and pestilence, representing the sun of noontime and of the summer solstice. Now in the Mesopotamian annual cycle that was the dead season. Nergal was the god who brought death and destruction through this time."

"And fire is a big part of both solstices," Claire added thoughtfully.

Seeing nothing but walls of text, Claire decided to snap her book shut and do the one thing nobody else seemed to have thought of. Geeks. Taking Amber's phone from the seat beside her, Claire unlocked it easily, googling the god's name. She had memorised Amber's password by watching her whenever she used it.

"Hey!" was Amber's angered surprise. Dean glanced at the girls through the rearview mirror and he saw Claire surfing on a cell phone.

"Claire, where'd you get that phone?" Claire ignored Dean's inquiry, focusing on her search.

Sure enough, a Wikipedia page came through as the first result. Opening the page she smirked smugly upon spotting the numerous pictures available.

"Yep, it's Nergal alright," she announced in a cocky tone, making Sam and Amber turn to her.

Holding the phone up for both of them to see, she pointed with her finger as she spoke.

"The crescent moon shaft, the serpent, and the scorpio."

"Where did you find that?" Amber asked, impressed.

"I googled it, Amber."

Taking the phone from Claire, Sam looked closer at the picture as he retrieved the coin to compare the symbols' details. Amber watched her phone get passed around, away from her. This was angering. No one was even asking her if they could have it as it was taken from her and shared around.

"Spot on once again, Claire. Well done. This is it. We've got our first solid clue," Sam informed them.

"So, the coin is dedicated to Nergal, a solar pissy god known as the burner. We have fire incidents really close to the Winter Solstice…This all adds up," Dean summed up what they'd gathered so far.

"What doesn't add up is where the kids fit into all of this. The brat that supposedly burned up the janitor, then Sean going missing..." Dean was keeping up with the accumulating intel and how it all fit together.

"We're still missing clues, but we know that this somehow connects to Nergal. My guess is some sort of ritual? Maybe Sean being the next who'll burn a church or someone up?" Sam offered.

"Like a sacrifice?" Amber asked, snatching her phone out of Sam's hand, seeing that he didn't plan on giving it back to her anytime soon.

Sam looked at Amber, not finished reading. His expression was mildly annoyed. Dean caught this all out of the corner of his eye and frowned and Amber saw this.

"What? Use your own," Amber told him with a raised eyebrow.

Choosing not to comment on any of this, Sam nodded. "Yeah, could be a sacrifice. With Nergal being the god of destruction and the underworld, it would make sense for his followers to sacrifice human lives to appease him."

"Plenty of anthropological digs find whole pits of human sacrifices from this time. Hardcore offerings and stuff." was Claire's memory kicking in. She'd written a few papers on Ancient Sumerian anthropology for one of her AP classes. It was all coming back to her.

"But who on earth would be Nergal's follower today? That's just nuts," Amber asked, confused.

"You'd be surprised. Deities, as long as they receive attention and worship, can thrive. The more they're worshiped the more powerful they are. After the rise of Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, all the old gods from the religions that existed prior to this time gradually faded out of existence as nobody worshiped or believed in them anymore. People who know our side of the world realize what they can get as a reward if they offer to some of these old gods what they crave the most, Worship. It wouldn't be the first time we've encountered this. If we got this right, someone is offering these sacrifices to Nergal and receives something big in return," Sam explained.

"It's the priest and the nun," Claire piped up.

Shooting her a glance through the rear-view mirror, Dean thought her words over.

"You know, I'm starting to get behind this idea. It would make sense. They have the perfect cover, playing the devoted Catholics and they have access to children, which they somehow turn into fire-spitting machines. It's worked before."

Claire's look of satisfaction at Dean's praise was evident, her face actually beaming. Amber and Sam both saw this and were confused by her open, unconcealed emotion. It was weird….for Claire.

Seeing them looking at her, Claire pulled back, her face slumping.

"What?" was her defensive bark.

Sam and Amber just let it drop. Neither was touching this topic with the blonde. But they both understood Claire enjoyed Dean's praise...and both understood this validation. After all, they craved Dean's validation just as much. Sam not so much anymore, but he definitely did when he was a teenager and well into his late twenties. He could more than understand the girls' thirst for Dean's positivity. So much negative came their way from him.

"So what happens now? Even if it IS them, how do we tackle this? They're human. Do we go after Nergal? Can we even kill a damn god?" Amber asked, still having a hard time wrapping her mind around this.

"Yes, gods can be killed. But usually with very specific methods and weapons. And it's not like there will be a recipe at the end of the book. We need to study Nergal, his lore, and spot the weaknesses mentioned there. But if these two are targeting kids and having them do their dirty work for them, we need to prioritize and stop them first," Sam said.

"Why is Sean missing though? This just seems weird. I mean… even if what we suspect is right, when that Janelle girl burned that guy at the church, she didn't go missing. Why did Sean?"

Right as Amber finished her question her phone vibrated. Unlocking her device and opening the received text she saw it was from Emily.

'Anything on Sean?'

'We've figured out our first strong lead. We're looking into it right now. Did the nun show up? Anything out of the ordinary with her visit?' Amber texted right back.

"Who's that?" Dean asked, catching her typing.

"It's Emily. Checking up on how it's going," Amber answered. Her phone vibrating again she read the next text.

'She didn't say anything. But she did ask to go into Sean's room, supposedly to pray. I caught her rummaging through his desk drawers and she said she was looking for a cross or something to help her pray for him.'

'Did she say cross?' Amber texted back. She was suspecting something and needed to make sure.

'No, she used another word. I'm not catholic. I don't know these things.'

"Okay, she tells me the nun asked to go into Sean's room to pray…" Amber started sharing what Emily had told her.

"To pray?" was Dean's sarcastic response. "Jesus!"

"Probably," was Sam's response.

"Hush, listen! Emily caught her sneaking through his stuff. She said she was looking for some sort of cross of his to help her pray. But Emily says she didn't use the word cross. Could it be the thing you found the coin inside? 'Cause if she was looking for that… that's definitely fishy."

"Yahtzee," was Dean's punctuated win. "The fact this nun is looking for something is a clue, See?"

"What do you mean, 'See'? I've been saying this all along "

"Yeah, but you didn't have any clues to prove your point. Now we got 'em," Dean replied, his tone smug.

"If we had gone to them first and interrogated the crap out of them, we'd have all the clues we needed and the boy back in his bed right now," Claire said, in an exasperated tone.

"If we had gone busting noses and interrogating people, we'd be shoved out of this case by the police and we wouldn't be able to do shit," was Dean's matter-of-fact response. "I know how gut instinct can make you impatient, but we can't risk law involvement. Never forget that."

"Tell that to Sean when and if we find him," Claire mumbled. Still, she reflected on Dean's words. She didn't like them much, but the dick had a point.

Amber, ignoring this battle, was still texting with Emily. Amber was inquiring if anything else odd had happened, been said, been found? She could see the pulsing dots on her phone that let her know Emily was composing a text. Amber waited, looking up briefly to see Sam and Dean exchanging a look.

"What?"

Amber hated this and they did it constantly. Glancing back at her through the rearview mirror, Dean simply looked at Amber, his message being, 'Watch your mouth.'

Amber rolled her eyes, signing and refocused on her cell phone. Emily's text was still composing. Then it was sent. A 'ping' was heard and Amber read the incoming message. The three other occupants of the car looked on expectantly, too.

"This afternoon there will be a gathering for the kids at another local church. St. Catherine's chapel. Sister Karen and Father Michael are hosting it. They wanna talk to them about Sean missing and everything that has happened the last couple of days and have them do a group prayer or something. I'm going. I'll sneak in and try to listen to what they tell the kids and what more I might find out. I could even follow one of them after the whole thing's over and see where they go and what they're doing."

Amber's eyes enlarged upon reading the text. Hell no! How was she supposed to navigate this? Texting back, her actions urgent. Emily and her brothers near each other, this would be a shit show.

"Don't, Em! I'll tell my dad and uncle and they'll get there and figure this out. It could be dangerous," she texted right back.

'No way. They can come, but I'm definitely going, too.'

"Shit," Amber mumbled loud enough for Dean to catch it.

"What?" was his immediate, worried response. His face scanned Amber's through the mirror.

"Uh… It's Emily. She's telling me there will be a gathering of the kids this afternoon, by the priest and the nun. To pray for Sean and talk about the fire incidents," Amber answered.

She didn't mention Emily wanting to go there, too. She was still trying to change her friend's mind and hoped she'd manage to do it before they arrived at St. Catherine's Chapel. The last thing she wanted was Sam and Dean bitching to her about getting Emily involved in this.

"Isn't that good news?" Sam asked, his expression neutral but his tone suspicious. Amber was holding something back, he could tell.

"For us or the kids?" came Amber's snarky comeback, upset at the prospect of Emily and her brothers meeting up again. Sam frowned at her rudeness, not knowing where this was coming from. Amber saw this and realized her upset wasn't going to help her. She could see Dean putting the lid on her involvement if she got too sarcastic with either of them.

"I'm just worried we might have another kid missing by the end of this thing," Amber added, reading Sam's displeasure with her tone and trying to sound honest.

Knowing this wasn't really it, yet accepting this, Sam merely looked at Amber and let it drop.

Another 'ping' sounded from Amber's phone and she looked down. Her eyes enlarged again but this time with surprise at seeing the sender's ID.

"Hey, Ace. Everything okay? Heading back to Wichita?"

Tiny smile forming, and trying to hide it, Amber felt frustrated and happy at the same time, hearing from Kyle. There he was, once again, knowing where she had been and where she was going. There she was still having no idea how he did that. She really needed to prioritise doing some more research on his whole situation. And yet hearing from him, practically hearing him calling her 'Ace'... It gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. This emotional whiplash was daunting.

"What? What does she say?" Dean asked, his tone demanding.

"It's not Emily, Dean," was Amber's curt answer. She hoped Dean wouldn't push this. He needed to learn boundaries and how to respect privacy.

"Then who is it?" Dean asked right back, his voice harder than before.

Claire glanced at the screen and saw the text was from Kyle, not that she was surprised. Keeping that information in the back of her brain for possible later use, right now she focused on defending Amber. Not only because she was her friend, but also because she was still pissed at Dean for the whole Christmas day fiasco.

"You really need to learn the rules of business, Dean. Real simple. Mind your own, stay the fuck out of other people's," was Claire's annoyed remark.

Amber glanced at her, expression surprised and grateful at the same time. She and Claire were falling back into each other's good graces, but Amber knew how unpredictable Claire could be.

Dean's glare shifted from Amber to Claire.

"You stay out of this, do you hear me? And mind your mouth!"

"Like you do?" Claire asked, unfazed.

"Do you want me to pull this car over, Claire? Try to say that to my face while I'm not behind the wheel?"

"That depends, Dean. Do I get to drive once you're done playing the macho intimidation card?"

Sam watched Dean shifting gears and actually starting to slow down, which made him intervene.

"Dean, no! Sean! The meeting this afternoon! Focus, man! We need to get there ASAP!"

"Yes, Dean. C'mon," Amber tried to smooth things over. She appreciated Claire's intervention and she didn't want this to get to the point the blonde bit off more than she could chew.

"Claire was defending me, like friends do. You were nosy and you know it. If the text concerned you, or involved important info, I'd let you in on it, but right now it's not important. A friend catching up. Stop making a big deal out of everything!"

"You two keep this up and you'll see just how much of a big deal I'm gonna make this," Dean barked back at them.

Sam watched his sister's facial expression soften and relax, despite Dean's reproach. This was confusing to Sam. A smile he didn't often see was gracing her face. He had a pretty good idea who had texted her and hated how incapable Dean seemed to handle this situation. Despite not appreciating Claire's tone or attitude, Sam did appreciate how she backed Amber up. The two of them seemed to have gained some new sense of comradery. His glance turned to Dean, his angered expression, his whitened knuckles around the steering wheel, his glare still turning to the girls through the mirror every other second. Turning his attention back to Amber, he saw her locking her phone and looking out of her window, a distant but pleased expression on her face.

Shifting her eyes from the mirror back to her phone, she quickly composed her answer.

"Not even gonna ask. And yeah. You around?"

"I'm always around. Say the word, I'm there."

"Might actually take you up on that," she texted right back.

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Anthropology lends itself so well to Supernatural. And unlike the series, we add in factual things...anthropology being one of our hobbies.

The occult references are occasional "sort of" correct. This is fiction after all….and Eric Kripe wouldn't want random supernatural events actually happening from too accurate of filler details.

How would you have reacted if you'd been Amber or Claire and Dean left on Christmas Day, Yule or Hanukkah unexpectedly?

Do you have a favorite movie or tradition you do on your winter holiday? How would the Winchesters have celebrated this...in character?

What was your favorite part of this story? Why?

How did you like this hunt we came up with so far? Interesting? Boring?

You know the drill by now… We're suckers for favorite scenes and lines, so do give them to us!

Would you prefer something different in terms of what or who's hunted?

Would you like to see a specific creature hunt in the future? We can't promise we'll include all of them, but we'd love to add something you'd like if it could work with our overall plotline.

We're always open to suggestions!

In any case let us know how you liked the chapter in as short or long reviews as you'd like. We appreciate every single one of them, be it a short one-liner or the long-ass-several-paragraph-ones. We love 'em all!