The Blood of a Hunter

by Celetest13

"Soon Hope Mikaelson, you are going to be reunited with your family and when you do, you will finally be home." When Dean and Grace escaped hell, they never expected to bond with the supe's they had been trained to kill. It shouldn't be so surprising, after all the Mikaelsons and the Winchesters share one thing in common. Family is everything. (Set during TO S4)

16. A New Kind of Monster

They played in his mind over and over: visionary echoes of various moments which he had fought so hard to conceal. Now dust-covered memories of the past began to attack his head with a vengeance, catalysed by the present situation he was now forced to withstand.

One side glance to his right and he could see it all. Remember. The sacrifice he had once made. The sacrifice he and his sister had both once made...

For Sammy. To bring him back... whatever it took...

No matter the cost.

A weary sigh whooshed from Dean's parted lips. With all the force he could muster, he turned his head away from his younger brother's unnaturally relaxed form until he was once again trying to focus on the road ahead.

But even as he continued to navigate through the night towards their eventual destination, Dean still couldn't make himself concentrate, no matter how damn hard he tried. 'Cause those memories of previous torments were now doublin' their efforts on his mind. Fightin' so hard to break through until finally, they succeeded.

In front of his eyes, the vision of the dark, winding road slowly began to blur and swim, until it suddenly felt as though he had been detached from his body.

He could barely feel the gentle hum of the wheel beneath his fingertips and now, the steady rumble of the engine was completely gone from his ears.

All around him the scenery gradually began to replace itself with the flash of a life, which he had fought like hell to not think back on, for over three long years…

---

The forest was silent... dense, dark and twisting and he strode silently... passing through the twisting bracken yet unable to feel the light scratching of branches against his shirt.

It was strange, Dean mused. This weight off his chest. This rare feeling of finality...

This sense of earth-shattering elation.

He walked until the branches around him had begun to clear. Until the damp grass beneath his shoes had slowly turned into dirt.

It was at the very edge of the thicketed woods where he found her.

Grace Winchester was leaning languidly against the hood of the Impala. Her smoky orbs were glazed over in an unseeing stare. A half-empty bottle hung limply in her loose grasp.

If she knew he was there, she didn't care to acknowledge him and when Dean took a confident step towards her, his face was carefully masked in an absent frown.

"Not like you to be drinkin' on the job," he announced but Grace merely shrugged, disregarding his dishevelled appearance as she steadily lifted the bottle to her lips.

"Yeah well, desperate times, sold my soul." There was a small pause. "Thought you'd still be gloatin'," she muttered darkly and her mouth closed over the rim so she could once again take a long swig.

"Why wouldn't I?" Dean questioned her blankly, unable to understand why she was actin' so sour. "When today, we're finally able to check something off the to-do list!"

When Grace showed no visible reaction other than that of an exhausted sigh, he stubbornly pressed on for one, searchin' for anythin' which would give her a cause to commemorate the one moment which they had been waiting on, for almost the entirety of their lives.

"The son of a bitch who slaughtered our mom is dead, Gracie... yellow eyes is finally gone." Still no response and Dean shrugged, his concerned features masked in his usual devil-may-care grin. "Can't we just celebrate for a minute?"

Grace swallowed and let out a second weary exhale. Her arm lowered slightly but the bottle still remained in her hand...

That was when she craned her head round to face him and just like that, Dean's smile faded.

He could see it almost instantly. The flicker of anger and resentment, the overwhelming emptiness behind her defeated eyes…

And he understood it all completely.

"You're right," Grace noted, her low tone never once changing in pitch. "Yellow eyes has finally bitten the dust, mom's finally avenged and I wasn't the fuckin' one to do it..." She laughed out loud but her tone stayed unamused and bitter. "…cause dad's stubborn ghost ass just had to climb out of the great fiery beyond to save you and then help take all of the glory. So, if that's what you're celebratin' then by all means, go right on ahead. Knock yourself out." Her jaw started to clench up tight and she snapped, "'Cause I don't know if you've already forgotten the past twenty-four hours, but while you and dad were actin' out the age-old revenge fantasy, the rest of us were unable to stop the fucking doors to Hell from opening and releasin' all types of fiery demonic crap out into the world. I bet they're probably all just as bad as dear ol' yellow eyes was too, if not worse."

Her smoky eyes snapped to his and her tone suddenly turned scathing.

"And all thanks to you," she snapped. "the two of us only have a single year left to put it all right."

Dean morosely watched her proceed to down the remnants of the bottle with careless abandon and the smallest feeling of guilt twinged through his heart. It triumphed in making his stomach churn for the span of ten seconds and then he effortlessly forced it back down.

"I'm not gonna apologize for what I did, Grace," he uttered and her shoulders stiffened. Then, with another release of breath, they ever so slowly relaxed and her body began to sag.

"Why the hell did you follow me there, Dean?" she whispered. Her eyes gazed blankly out at the scenery in front of them, lost in some hidden pit of despair but Dean full-out ignored her portrayal of internal struggles.

The subtle accusation in her words had made his body bristle hot with anger. "You think I was gonna let you do that alone?" he demanded and with that, the dam broke.

The empty bottle in his sister's hands crashed to the ground and she angrily whipped around to face him.

"I had it," she snarled, her cheeks flushed red with the wrath which was now pulsating through her blood. "Don't you get it? I had it handled - it was gonna accept my deal."

"It was gonna hurl your ass straight into the goddam Hellfire!" Dean shot back, his own rage flaring in tandem to hers. "What the hell were you thinkin'?"

Grace looked away, her breath steadily slowing and her ire dissipating along with it.

"A life for a life," she said simply. "Our brother was dead. It was the only way to bring him back... we both knew that because we both had the same plan…" A faint smile played around her lips. "I just got there first."

Dean's throat constricted and Grace's expression became pained, taking his silence as confirmation.

"You shoulda stayed hidden," she whispered. "You should have let me do this alone. 'Cause when Sammy finds out the truth... when he finds out that he died… when he finds out what we both did to save him..."

Her voice cracked, Dean sharply inhaled and in the back of their minds, both siblings foresaw the formidable future.

Because when Sam eventually found out the extent of their sacrifice, he would place the blame upon himself. He would be the one to suffer through all the guilt. And that guilt would slowly twist his mind into something so formidably intolerable.

"It was supposed to have just been me," Grace uttered. She met Dean's reluctant gaze. Unshed tears swam in her glassy eyes. "Sam shouldn't have to take the pain of losin' you too."

Dean swallowed hard. His voice cracked out a whisper of sound in a desperate attempt to find the right words to say.

But this was something he just couldn't fix.

'Cause his sister was right. When they had both stood over their brother's lifeless corpse, Grace had been the one to think fastest. She had been the one to sneak out to the blasted crossroads while Dean had found himself lost in the all-consuming vortex of grief and self-blame.

And when he had finally found the right composure to think straight, when he had finally formed his own plan to fix it back to the way it should be… he had stepped out into that clearing where the two roads intersected and he had found his sister…

And she had been just a second away from being hauled into Hell.

His entrance had prevented that… but he had changed the entire game.

Because after it had discovered his presence instantly, the demon had conjured up a new deal and this time, the stakes had been higher.

Two Winchesters for the price of one.

Resurrect one, condemn the remaining two.

It had been the closest any demon had ever gotten to eradicating them all off the face of the planet. It had been the opportunity of a lifetime… and the devil-spawn a-hole had leaped at the chance.

Yet, despite the whole condemning show, Dean had quickly come to realise that none of it mattered in the end. If he had been given the opportunity to turn back time and save his own skin - to have arrived just after his sister's deal had been struck... he would have never been able to live with himself.

Maybe thinking that way was selfish and maybe it was martyrdom but Dean just couldn't stand the thought of goin' on if it meant either one of his siblings had to suffer through such a torment.

He would rather take the fall with his sister deep into the fiery pit, just so he could figure out some crazy, rash way to keep her safe.

He would fight his way through all the hordes of demons still down there if he had to, 'cause if he was being a hundred percent honest with himself, he would suffer in his sister's stead a million times over if it meant that she would be able to escape all the hurt.

A sudden gentle snap was quick to bring Dean straight out of his reverie and with a swift jerk of his head, he reflexively turned to face the new intruder. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Grace stiffen and in the span of a single breath, she had blinked back her tears.

A cool composure swiftly settled over her face but Sam never noticed. Now that his presence had been made known to them both, he shuffled forwards, his eyes fixed on the ground. All the while, his brows were furrowed in confused and melancholic thought.

"You know, when Jake saw me," he began slowly. "It's like he saw a ghost."

"Well, when three pissed off Winchesters decide to take you on, it's surely bound to make anybody run," Grace replied with a sardonic smile. "Self-preservation and all that."

"Yeah but…" Sam broke off only to adamantly shake his head. "Hell, you heard him, Grace. Said he killed me."

Grace's smile remained steady but when Sam made his way over to lean by her side against the hood, she found her focus drifting. Instinctively, she looked over to her older brother who promptly met her subtle glance.

Dean could feel his own heart hammering to an uncontrollable sickening beat and he carefully cleared his throat to take the lead. "Well, he was wrong."

Sam's lips thinned. Dean and Grace both knew that he could clearly see through all of their blatant bullshit and so, when the youngest Winchester finally raised his head, his chin was jutted out in blatant denial. His smoky eyes were fixed resolutely on Dean.

Daring his brother to contradict him.

"I don't think he was, Dean," he started and Grace craned back her head in light amusement.

"You know," she idly retorted. "There are many other metaphorical ways that coulda been interpreta-"

"Stop it, Grace! Just… stop." Sam's puppy-dog eyes were now pleading. He peered over to each of his siblings in turn, trying as hard as he could to draw the truth right out from behind their tightly closed lips. "What happened?" he whispered into the tense silence. "After I was stabbed?"

Dean inhaled a calm breath. "We already told you," he uttered and Sam's face hardened.

"Not everything."

"Sam, we just killed the demon." Dean stressed. When Sam's expression remained unchanging and Grace just shrugged out her nonchalance while looking up at the sky, he released a groan of exasperation. "Will no one give me a friggen chance to celebrate?"

"Actually, I'm way ahead of you." Grace manoeuvred herself around them.

Dean craned his head just in time to see her pop open the trunk of the car and retrieve two bottles, which she was quick to wave enticingly in his direction.

"Care for a drink?" she queried lightly and Dean grinned wide.

"Don't mind if I do."

"Did I die?"

At Sam's question, Dean's hands trembled. He popped off the cap and raised the bottle shakily to his lips. His ears barely picked up on the faint sound of Grace's soft snort.

"Did you sell your soul for me, like dad did for you?" Sam persisted.

Dean was beginning to wish he was able to borrow some of his sister's humoured façade. The stress of the day was finally catching up to him, along with all the tormented consequences which he would one day be forced to endure. It all whirred in his mind and was building up into a dark inferno which he could no longer hold down.

Still, he had to try. So he switched to the one emotion that he was best at.

"Oh, come on, no!" he snapped and Sam pressed harder.

"Tell me the truth," he commanded and Dean ran an agitated hand down his face while Grace stood still, quietly listening. "Dean," Sam implored. "Tell me the truth."

Dean looked away in favour of downing a large swig. "You know, this is damn good beer Gracie," he complemented. "Takes the edge off, don't you think?"

"Then keep on drinking," she casually replied. "Got about a dozen more waitin' in the back."

But it was useless. They were stalling and their little brother was smart enough to know it.

"Dean," Sam said softly, causing the both of them to tense.

Dean's restraint was rapidly failing and when his arm lowered, the bottle slipped from his lax grasp. It crashed into pieces on the ground. He paid no mind to the shattering glass and instead caught Grace's agitated glare.

"Don't," she warned him with a hiss but it was far too late.

Sam's flesh had already whitened in realisation… and all they could do, was simply watch on in trepidation while he nodded once to himself and swallowed back the unshed tears. They swam in his eyes and he looked out into the distance, blinking fast in a desperate attempt to quell the breakdown

"How long do you get?" His voice broke and Dean allowed the seconds to tick by, trying to prolong the inevitable for as long as he could.

"One year," he finally replied and although he had managed to keep his voice calm, there was still strain. "We got one year."

The incomprehension spread itself over Sam's face. "We?" he echoed faintly and they could see the cogs turin' rapidly in his brain.

It didn't take long for him to understand.

His head suddenly jerked to the right, to where Grace was once again languidly leaning back against the Impala. At the despairing denial sent her way, she lifted her beer and toasted him with a wry smile. "Well, it was technically my idea first."

Sam's wild eyes flitted back and forth between them, frantically searching for some kind of sign that they were havin' him on. Just a single practical joke and he just hadn't yet found the punchline.

But when no humour was thrown back at him and their expressions remained overwrought and unchanged, Sam's throat parched itself dry. He couldn't even begin to stop the instant cascade of shock, guilt, but above all, fear.

"You shouldn't have done that." He shook his head again, forcing back the tears and anger, which was quickly starting to rise at the sight of Grace's complete and utter detachment. "How could you do that?"

"Why do you think?" Grace snapped and Sam flinched back, unprepared for her sudden wrath.

The aloofness had vanished from her eyes until all that was left was the rawest emotion of deepest despair.

"What else could we have done? You were dead, Sam. And in that short moment..." Her tone cracked and Dean closed his eyes at the sound... "I couldn't stand it," she rasped out quietly. "So, to hell with the consequences."

When Sam said nothing, finding himself lost for words, Grace soaked in the silence. She tipped her head up, peered back to the sky and idly watched the stars.

"I don't care if I get a year before they drag me to the pit," she whispered, her tone softening slightly from the sound of her younger brother's occasional sniffs. "I don't care if they torture me to kingdom come. 'Cause they won't break me the way it did when I saw you all lifeless and cold on the ground."

Her gaze snapped to his and Sam couldn't bring himself to look away.

"Seein' you here alive and kicking… it's worth the whole goddamn thing," she uttered and her confession broke through the barrier which Sam had tried so hard to push back. "I did what I had to do."

"And what's gonna happen to me now huh? I live and you both die for me?" An angry tear trickled down Sam's cheek. "How is that fair?"

"Don't get mad at us," Dean uttered, his chest stinging with an unforgivable ache. "Don't you do that."

His broken plea caused Sam to shut his stinging eyes but Dean could still feel some hot glare piercing the back of his neck. Knowing exactly who it was, he twisted his body around to face her.

"Don't you get mad at me either," he begged and Grace sharply averted her gaze. "I had to," he attempted to justify. "I had to look out for you. For both of you." His voice quavered as it began to break. "That's my job."

"What do you think my job is?"

Dean closed his mouth, taken aback by Sam's unexpected response. He could see Grace mirroring his confusion and he voiced it aloud. "What?"

"You and Grace, the both of you… you save my life, over and over. I mean, you've always sacrificed everything for me don't you think I'd do the same for either of you?" A flash of worry flickered over Grace's face and Sam watched her with a faint smile. "You're my family," he uttered to them, his tone utterly hoarse. "There's nothing I wouldn't do… you're all I've got."

And there was nothing which neither Grace nor Dean could do or say to stop him. He was a Winchester and he had already made up his mind.

There would be no goin' back after that.

"I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you both out of this." Sam's lips faintly twitched up as he realised, "I guess I've gotta save your asses for a change."

And this time when Dean smiled, the emotion was true. "Yeah."

"He's right," Grace added and the two brothers turned to see her twisting her head, so she could scan her body with vague admiration. "It is a pretty great ass."

Dean snorted, causing Sam to roll his eyes but for the smallest shred of time, the three siblings felt the weight momentarily lift itself from their shoulders, allowing them this smallest scrap of mirth.

They barely heard the approaching sets of footsteps until the two figures stood right in front them, their expressions solemnly grave.

"Well," Ellen announced while Bobby gloomily shifted at her side. "Yellow-eyed demon might be dead… a lot more got through that gate."

The three siblings could feel the chill which carried through the air and Grace's mood returned to sombre at the reminder.

The Devil's Gate.

Yellow eyes may have gone but not before it had unlocked the damn door to Hell.

The one which Grace had failed to shut straight away. And even though they had eventually managed it, the few minutes it had been open had proven crucial…

By the time she, Bobby and Ellen had managed to seal it shut once more, it had been too late.

Demons and spirits… the soldiers of Hell. They had all been released into the world…and now Death was coming… in more ways than one.

Yellow eyes may be dead… but the Winchester siblings had been charged with a new purpose.

Dean's military persona was back. His voice was abnormally steady when he questioned, "How many you think?"

"A hundred," Sam estimated, a little uneasy as he mentally attempted to count it in his head. "Maybe two hundred…"

Grace immediately stiffened and not five seconds later, Sam had caught on to her train of thought.

"It's an army," he realised with growing horror. "It's unleashed an army."

"Hope to hell you three are ready," Bobby stated. "'Cause the war has just begun."

"Well then…"

Grace and Sam whipped around to see a large and jovial grin spreading its way across Dean's face.

"We got work to do," he declared and his forest-green eyes lit up with a new found sense of adrenaline. "So why don't we kill some sons of bitches and raise a little hell?"

Grace blinked once at him. "…before we end up in it," she added.

Dean snorted and Sam watched them both with a frown.

"You're unbelievable," he muttered. Then turning on his heel, the youngest Winchester strode back into the woods, intent on calming his wayward emotions before they set off on their new journey once more.

Following Sam's abrupt departure, Grace's focus flickered to Dean, whose smile had faded now that their younger brother was absent.

Sensing the abrupt tense change in atmosphere, Bobby cleared his throat. "Let us know when you two idjit's have finally succeeded in screwin' your crazy heads back on straight. That boy's already sufferin' enough guilt without havin' to put up with your combined pity parties."

With that, he strode off into the trees. Ellen followed hastily at his heels… leaving the two remaining siblings with a shamed state rising inside their consciences.

A few minutes ticked by and the quiet atmosphere was only broken by a steady wind which billowed though the trees.

It was Grace who finally ended the silence between them.

"You know there's no hope, right?" she muttered and Dean turned to face her with a frown as she quietly continued, "In one year he's gonna lose the both of us. He's gonna watch the hellhounds tear us both apart… and he's never gonna be able to get past that." Her cold orbs snapped to his. "If you hadn't interrupted when you did, Sammy would have still had you with him when this all goes down," she vehemently accused and when Dean stayed resiliently standing, her body started to sag. "It should have just been me…" her tone surrendered to its gathering weariness and she reluctantly allowed that weakness to show. "Why did you do it, Dean?"

Dean sighed. "Come on Grace, you know me better than that."

He wrapped his arm gently around her waist, she rested her head on his shoulder and for a moment they both stood there, revelling in the small false sense of peace.

"I'm your brother," he said softly. "And I wasn't about to let you take on that burden alone."

"Knew one soul would be too good to be true," Grace responded, her tone lowering in volume with each additional word. "We've given ourselves a death sentence."

"Then I guess there's somethin' in Sam tryin' to find a way to get us through," Dean mused and she nodded thoughtfully along

"Keeps him in denial about the inevitable and all that."

Dean's body stiffened. "You just don't give a crap, do you?" he said, his tone almost accusatory and Grace laughed low.

"Neither do you."

When she pulled away from him, he let her and when the silence descended once more, all the two siblings could do was look ahead with a strong guise of bravery.

They would do it all by the book. Do as they were taught and raised and make John Winchester proud. They would fight the good fight during the day and internally dread the oncoming night... when that single stroke of midnight would signify the dawn of new day.

It would now be their daily reminder: that midnight chime would cause them to tick off yet another day before they eventually got to the point when their numbers would finally be up.

And that clock was already ticking fast.

"I'm terrified, brother," Grace admitted softly and Dean exhaled slow.

"I know," he whispered. His emotions faltered and he slowly allowed the fear to seep through.

And while he didn't show that to her, all Dean could do was simply confess his shared truth.

"So am I."

---

Where had it gotten them in the end? Throughout their whole lives they had been dealt the cruellest play. What had started off as avenging mom had grown into a life of death and loss and sacrifice.

Yellow eyes, Hell, the angels, the cage. One bad had turned into two, replacin' where the last one had left off and like some sick reality show, the never-ending cycle continued.

Dean's hands flexed. He could see the faint tinge of white spread across his knuckles from the tightness of his grasp upon the wheel and with one firm press on the pedal, he floored the accelerator hard.

The Impala sped faster but Dean made no move to slow it down.

His family had been forced to survive a crap amount of pain and misery… had been forced to endure the tearing away of their innocence, piece by fucking piece. And now that same burden had been passed down onto the only kid who Dean had ever found the guts to care for.

'Cause whatever damn magic still infected Hope's core... it had the potential to break her in a way which could end up irreparable. It would destroy her childhood and lead her on towards her forthcoming legacy which she had inherited from both the Mikaelson and the Winchester families.

The families she was now a part of.

She would end up living a legacy of death and despair.

Dean would be damned if he didn't try to do anything to stop it and deep down, he knew that Sammy shared his sentiment.

And although his anger still flared inside, a small shred of him still grasped onto the tiniest flicker of hope that his sister would finally get word of this recent shitstorm which was passin' straight on through New Orleans. That she would get her ass straight on over and finally join in on the fray.

But if Grace never came, if she never returned to him then Dean just prayed that she had a damn good reason why.

He just wished he didn't already have an inkling as to what it could be…

Somehow, Dean just knew that the Cage would have screwed with her in the exact same way that Hell had done… if not worse.

With a small exhale, Dean forced his body to go lax and there was a moment of hesitation before he peered back over to his right.

If Sam had suddenly noticed the rapt attention on him, he didn't say nothing. He just continued to stare out the window, his face calm and his body relaxed.

And yet… somethin' still didn't sit right with this whole thing. Deep down, Dean could feel it.

There was somethin' that Sam wasn't telling him. Somethin' that must have to do with why Grace was so adamant in staying away.

Dean briefly closed his eyes then shoved his focus back onto the road and steadily voiced the question which he had been dreading to ask, from the moment they had both gotten into the car.

"Do you remember it?" he questioned and Sam's focus slowly drifted towards him, his dark brows furrowed.

"What?"

"The Cage."

No emotion showed on Sam's face. He leaned back against his seat and quietly replied. "Yeah."

Nothing else was further said.

Nothing.

Dean's stomach turned and he nodded to himself, his lips and throat turning dry as he tried to figure out the right words to say.

He needed to tread his way through this lightly.

"You want to…"

He left the sentence hanging and Sam's smoky orbs immediately hardened.

"No."

"Well, if anybody can relate..." Dean insisted gently but Sam swiftly cut over him.

"Dean, I don't want to talk about it. Grace, Michael, Lucifer..." He shook his head. " none of it matters now. I'm back," he professed. "I get to breathe fresh air, have a beer, see you again, hell, maybe we'll even save Hope." His mouth twisted down. "So why exactly would I want to think about Hell?"

Sam's head turned back to face the window, refusing to speak any further.

Not that Dean cared: now he needed that silence.

His fingers flexed over the wheel and his jaw clenched tight as voices and images of past tortures thundered loudly through his head once more.

---

They had made their way back to Bobby's in silence.

Nothing was said but the events of the day played so blatantly across their faces.

And during that one short journey, the bond between the three siblings had become nothing more than a tight strain, kept together only by the steady beat of Zeppelin which hummed softly in the background.

When they pulled up to the junkyard, Grace was the first to leave the car.

The sharp slam of the car door echoed in her brothers' ears but they couldn't bring themselves to move, to talk, to face what had just happened...

And although Dean knew that Sam thirsted for answers, he also knew that if he opened up for even the slightest second, it would spew out a crap ton of pain.

Pain which he wasn't ready to face. The type of pain which would probably never fade.

But when the silence became too hard to just sit with and endure, Dean exhaled, then swallowed once.

He flung open the car door, leaving his overly concerned brother behind as he strode through the salvage yard.

In the midst of a small patch of grass which hadn't yet been tarnished by oil and rust, he found his sister.

Grace was kneeling down, her back to him as she faced the small child standing before her.

Dean's steps faltered and he tightly crossed his arms, watching shrewdly as Hope Mikaelson placed her tiny hand into his sister's palm and peered up at her through worried sea-blue eyes.

"You look sad," she whispered and Grace lips faintly tugged before she covered the youngest Mikaelson's hand with her own.

"It's been a long day kid. But I'll be okay."

"You promise?"

A faint shouting to their right caused Grace to look away and stare blankly off into the distance. "Your mom's callin'," she said softly, drawing carefully back until Hope's hand fell away from her skin. "Best go see what she wants."

But Hope didn't relent, her reluctance to leave encased her entire form. And although she did back away, it was by only a single small step before she came to a stubborn stop and bounced on the balls of her feet.

"I learned something today," she proclaimed and Grace's lips twitched at the girl's blatant attempt to linger… but she nodded all the same and Hope beamed.

Then the young girl's blue eyes closed… and she extended out her arms…

Grace felt it first: the tickle of air against her nape, teasing her ashy tresses with a gathering strength. With her mouth slightly parted, she watched Hope in awe as the Mikaelson child squeezed her shut eyes tighter.

Auburn hair billowed through the gentle autumn breeze as Hope cast her hands to the dry ground. From beneath a thin layer of dust, an array of fallen leaves steadily began to vibrate. Hope began to smile and with a sharp flick of her wrists, a powerful gust swept them up into the air.

Around the two girls, the leaves gently swirled: reds, oranges, yellows and browns merged themselves into one perfect form of warm colour on a cool Sioux Falls evening.

Hope finally opened her eyes with a bright beam and the two of them stood in silent wonder…

Both were completely unaware of Dean's wary presence behind them.

The green-eyed hunter's entire frame had tensed. His emotions were fightin' a violent war between agitation and astonishment at such a display of magic.

In the past, he had seen and killed witches all because of the slaughterin' power they displayed... but the magic this kid possessed was different…it was… lighter. Nothin' like the disgusting blood, bones and dark hexes which his family had previously faced.

"What do you think?" Hope tilted back her head, her eyes brightly shining. Excitement bubbled through her veins as she absorbed Grace's reaction eagerly.

Grace took a small moment to respond. And then… very slowly… she perched herself on the hood of some forgotten car in the sea of metal junk and braced her hands behind her, relaxing back. Her face became swathed in a tranquil glow while she watched the autumn leaves dance.

Debating slowly, she opened her mouth to respond… but before she could form the slightest tone, the two of them were suddenly interrupted.

"HOPE. ANDREA. MIKAELSON!" Hayley's infuriated shouts burst through their ears. "If you haven't put Bobby's and John Winchester's hunting journals back where they belong in TEN SECONDS..."

Hope instantly blanched.

"Gotta go!" she squeaked. Her young legs had never moved faster as she pelted back through the scrapyard and up towards the house. When she slipped swiftly through Bobby's open door, Grace laughed quietly.

She waited until the door had closed behind her retreating form with a small slam.

"I think," she murmured, a soft glimmer reaching her eyes. "you're gonna be one of the good ones."

Dean chose that moment to make his appearance known and as he stepped up to his sister's side, he craned his head. He gazed over the floating leaves for a moment longer before following her line of sight.

Then he smiled.

"You know what? You might just be right," he mused and together, the two siblings watched the last tendrils of Hope's magic wane.

By the time Sam had joined them, the autumn dance had ended.

The leaves peacefully drifted down… and once they had touched the ground, the time for pretence and ignorance was over.

Sam could no longer be left in the dark.

"I know you heard him," Dean uttered and Sam quickly looked around.

He already knew who Dean was referring to but he softened his voice anyway, gently pushing yet still needing clarification. "Who?"

"Alistair," Dean replied quietly. "What he said… about how…" He swallowed and swiped his tongue over his dry lips. "I had promise."

Out of the corner of his eye, he missed Grace's subtle flinch. "He didn't exactly make it hard to miss," she muttered and Sam sighed. He pushed himself up onto the rusting car hood beside her and his shoulder brushed gently against her tense one.

"You're right," he confessed, causing Grace's lips to thin. "I heard him."

"You're not curious?" Dean wondered.

"Dean I'm damn curious. But if neither of you are talkin' about Hell, then I'm not pushin'."

Dean exhaled then raised his gaze. Lookin' into his sister's warning eyes, he almost can hear her silent command for him to drop it. Leave it be and spare their little brother the pain.

No one else should ever have to carry their burden.

But Sam was blood. Sam was family…

And after all of Hell's pain and torture which had been thrust down upon him, Dean realised how inferior and how helpless he truly was in this small world. And no matter how hard he kept on tryin', neither he nor Grace could protect their brother forever.

Not with the life they led.

Sam deserved the truth.

"It wasn't four months, you know," Dean stated and Sam's head jerked around. His dark brows lowered in worry, his mouth parted in shock.

"What?" he spluttered and Grace closed her eyes before pushing herself off the car. She walked until she was ten paces away and when she came to a halt, she never turned back around.

Instead, her back faced them. She never once showed her face but she stood close enough to hear every word about to be said.

"It was four months up here but down there..." Dean's gaze lowered to the ground with a weak shake of his head. "I don't know, time's different..." he exhaled a breath and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam tense, waiting for the inevitable confession.

And Dean's voice was nothing more than a whisper when he finally breathed out the truth:

"It was more like forty years."

Sam's face drained of colour until all that was left was a sickly white tinge. "My God," he said quietly. No tone would ever be able to mask his abject horror.

Dean grimaced, unable to look over and see the overwhelming pity. He shakily raised his head and, in that moment, he could feel his surroundings disappear. Flashes of memories which left him screamin' at night started speeding through his head in short second bursts… but he just kept on talking, hoping against hope that it would eventually make that very pain and terror hurt just a little bit less.

"They… er…. they sliced and carved and tore me in ways you…" His voice broke and he had to take a moment to breathe. "…until there was nothing left."

The memories hit harder and gasping, he snapped his eyes shut. A final desperate attempt to block it all out.

"And then suddenly…" he croaked. "I would be whole again… like magic. Just so they could start it all over." His hands curled into fists, the veins bulging from his tight flesh as he hissed, "and Alistair, at the end of every day… every one… he would come over and he would make me an offer…" He stopped to heave in another mouthful of air and his head throbbed hard as the guilt flared, twisting his gut into tight knots.

But still he forced himself, with all the courage he had, to continue.

"To take me off the rack…" he whispered with a terrible tremor. "if I put souls on…" He ignored Sam's sharp inhale as he spat, "if I started to torture. And every day I told him to stick it where the sun shines."

His dark twisted smile steadily faded and he slowly opened his blank eyes. Because he could feel it now. He could feel it all.

All that agony and hopelessness and humiliation.

But most of all, the shame.

The shame that he wasn't strong enough to carry on, to endure.

He shoulda fought harder.

"For thirty years I told him…" Dean uttered and he could hear his voice start to shake harder. "But then I couldn't do it anymore Sammy." His forest eyes shone helpless like a child's, just begging for someone to understand. "I couldn't and I got off that rack. God help me I got right off it and I started rippin' them apart…"

Drop by drop, tears streamed down his face.

"I lost count how many souls..." He quickly shook his head to rid himself of the memories which still slashed at him from the inside. He could hear his own clogged breathing as he managed to choke out, "The things that I did to them…"

He broke off with a silent sob.

He never saw the way that his sister tensed, her back still to them as she stared emotionlessly ahead.

"Dean…" Sam began, his tone gentle as his own tears of helplessness began to burn in his eyes. His desperate gaze flickered to his sister, itching for her to turn around but at the same time, fearing what he could say if she did. There was no counselling book for this. How could he even begin to comfort, to even find the words that could make this all better? "Dean look, you held out for thirty years, that's longer than anyone will."

A choked, yet well-concealed sob bubbled up from Dean's throat. "How I feel," he rasped. "This… inside me..." His heart ached and burned and the tears streamed faster but he couldn't find the energy to wipe them away. "I wish I couldn't feel anything, Sammy... I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing."

He trailed off with a sharp inhale, trying everything he could to force back the tears which were rapidly spinning out of his control… and all the while Sam swallowed, blinking back his own.

Soon, the younger Winchester found his gaze drifting until they came to a firm halt, lingering on his sister.

Grace had never once moved throughout Dean's whole confession. Even now in the silence, she stood uncharacteristically still...

Yet if her two brothers could see her face, they would see her own silent tears.

How desperately she tried to hold back her silent weeps.

"Did you ..." Sam cleared his throat. "I mean... were you two..."

He couldn't bring himself to continue but Grace caught onto his meaning and slowly turned round with a tight-lipped smile.

"We never saw each other," she said quietly but there was a tightness to her words. Sparing Dean a brief and unfathomable glance, she twisted her body and stared straight into Sam's red-rimmed eyes. "Spineless bastards were probably afraid of what we could do if we were together."

She broke off as Dean brushed back his tears and let out a throaty laugh... but Grace never returned his smile.

Her mind was far from here, lost inside a realm far darker than this one.

"So they left us isolated… alone… and in those moments, I thought I was gonna go mad. The only company I had was when they would come in and … Dean described that part better than I ever could."

Her hands began to tremble and she quickly curled them into fists. Her nails dug deep crests into her palms and she embraced the pain, letting it anchor her to reality.

"For years I begged for mercy," she croaked. "For years I begged them to stop. God I would have done almost anythin' to release me from that pain. Anythin' for it to all be over... But it didn't end. It never did." She began to pace while her brothers watched on, helpless to save her from her mental anguish. "I still feel what they did - every cut every carve... when I close my eyes, I can still hear my own screams… they deafen me…"

She blinked and when she looked up, a single tear streaked down her cheek. She didn't feel it but her brothers saw and it made their insides twist. Even when she pushed back her emotions until all that remained was a humoured mask.

"Least I came back with one Hell of a t-shirt," she said with a casual shrug. "And one bad ass Angel hand print tat on my ar-"

She froze.

Sam's brow furrowed with worry but when Grace whipped around, he looked to where she was gazin' and quickly cleared his clogged throat.

Hayley stood silently before them, her quivering figure less than ten steps away. Wide brown eyes flickered back and forth between both Grace and Dean in turn.

Her flesh was drained of all colour... the starkest of whites...

The three siblings exchanged a simple glance. They didn't need to ask how long she had been standing there. The way her dark eyes swam told them everything.

She had heard it all.

Without another word, Grace stepped away from her brothers and headed towards the house... yet as she passed the hybrid mother, she paused.

Dean furiously wiped at his eyes and he barely made out his sister's words which made his heart tear.

"You're lucky you know... that humanity switch of yours…"

---

"Dean? Dean!"

Dean jolted sharply in his seat and gripped the icy wheel tight to stop the car from swerving.

"Yeah," he uttered gruffly, still hearing his sister's parting words echoin' on inside his head.

There was something about it all... the way Grace had said it... and now that he was mulling it over, it left him with a foreboding sense of trepidation.

He could feel his hands trembling as he fought to push back the strange yet terrifying feeling which was scratching harder and stronger inside his head. And then it was gone when Sam jolted him out of his musings with his calm announcement.

"We're here."

The older Winchester blinked and with a sharp shake of his head, all emotional thoughts were gone. His mind had cleared itself from all thought and had been replaced with one single task

Save the kid... save her and give those sorry sons of bitches who had hurt her, hell.

"Well then," Dean smirked, his green eyes glinting, holding the promise of retribution "Let's get this show on the road..." He hit the gas hard and with a mighty roar, the Impala zoomed down the street. "We've got work to do."

The Welcome to New Orleans sign glowed eerily in the glare of the bright headlights.

---

Speed limits had been broken, the fastest route had been taken and now Klaus and Elijah Mikaelson stormed into the compound which they had once considered a safe haven.

Five years really had changed everything.

"Our home," Klaus darkly announced, the disgust on his face evident as he rampaged further into the courtyard with his brother rapidly on his tail. "Once the pride of our family, now a flophouse."

"Indeed, the mighty have fallen," Elijah agreed. He scanned over the room with a critical eye. "And it further seems that our old home is not above graffiti either."

Klaus reluctantly slid his gaze away from the corner cobwebs and dust-covered gas lamps, to cast his focus on the two humans who had arrived almost ten minutes prior. Without even needing the slightest hint of direction.

Now that was saying something.

Klaus had to admit, he admired their proficiency in remaining calm under the strain of the current pressure they faced. The two hunters scattered about the area and he watched them with a curious scrutiny, taking careful note of the resurrected one in particular.

Oblivious to the careful observation, Dean recited off his checklist at a brusque pace, ensuring that his younger brother was at full form by forcing him to set out the hunting items; the usage of which had been ingrained deep into their blood from a young age.

"Salt? EMF? Iron?"

"Dean, I'm not five," Sam dryly replied but the older Winchester briskly carried on, his personality of dad's perfect soldier entirely underway. Only after he had sharply loaded and cocked the handgun to hear the satisfying click, did he turn back round to face his brother.

"Well, you've got the holy water, right?" he demanded but Sam just stared back calmly.

"Figured it would be a waste of time when we could just say Christo." When Dean just stared at him confounded, Sam simply elaborated, "Don't you remember they flinch at the name of God?" He shrugged, unaffected by his brother's realisation. "Grace always said it was the quicker way of handling things."

"Yeah well, that way you don't get to see the sucker's face sizzle up when we hit 'em with the good ol' H2O," Dean muttered back, looking completely put out. His fingers flexed around the weapon in his hand, idly toying with the safety. "That we meet business. Flinchin' just doesn't cut it anymore. You need to make them feel the fear."

His lips quirked up with smug satisfaction yet Sam just remained passive. "We both know that wasn't the real reason why you did it that way," he pointed out, all the while crossing his arms and Dean slowly deflated under the scrutiny of his unblinking stare.

"Yeah well," he grumbled. "I always found it way more hilarious to splash you both in the face."

"Do we really need them here?" Elijah posed his question quietly to Klaus but before the hybrid could answer, they were interrupted by a gruff voice from behind.

"Those boys are the best help you got jackass, the best you can do is be damn grateful." Bobby made his entrance into the compound, sporting a derisive grimace while he continued to address the originals with the same amount of contempt. "If it weren't for that kid or Hayley, we wouldn't be wasting our time in helpin' you out."

He's right," Dean shouted out, never once turning in their direction but catching on to the gist of the conversation. "You don't want us here then take a hike. Or you could just eat me and see if Hayls and Hope like you after that." His face twisted up into a grimace. "Least here's hopin' they don't."

Dean then turned back to Sam, his brows lowering and furrowing all at the same time.

Usually, his brother would have jumped at the chance to diffuse the strained alliance, yet all Sam did, was continue to silently prep. Never once did he portray the slightest response to the conflict brewing between mortals and immortals.

Dean decided to up the ante and watching Sam carefully, he said in an exaggerated low undertone, "Do we really need douchebag VamPattinson here right now?"

"Dean," Sam coolly admonished, his attention fully fixed on the EMF meter. He picked it up and began to steadily adjust the settings. "We don't have time for your puns right now."

"What? I have to get as many as these in as I can, man."

"They're pathetic." Sam paused for a moment in his actions before he brutally corrected himself, "No, they're worse than pathetic, they're not even funny." His lips pressed in a thin line as he reluctantly mulled it over. "Who in their right mind would laugh at that?"

"Grace, alright," Dean retorted hotly, already beginning to regret his idea to get a rise out of Sam in the first place since his brother had obviously turned the metaphorical tables on him. " Grace would, so take that back right now."

"Not until you focus," Sam responded and Dean lowered his head in defeat, grumbling to himself while he opened another bag of salt.

Then his mouth twitched and he subtly moved back to his brother's side.

"Suitpire," he whispered and Sam's unamused irises locked with his.

"No."

"Sam's right Dean, once we find a way to get tonight over with, I'll happily laugh." All originals and humans abruptly straightened up when Hayley came rushing into the compound, a barely conscious Hope cradled limply in her arms. "But in the meantime," she continued, while scanning the area wildly. "Where's Vincent?"

"Right here."

To their immediate left, a man strode into view and Hayley carefully set her daughter down on the dust-covered couch.

With everybody's attention now fixed on Hope's rapidly deteriorating state, no one noticed the way in which Sam's blue irises flared with faint recognition at the sight of the warlock who was now standing before them.

"Kept my word," Vincent continued with a curt air. "Now the only question is whether or not you guys are gonna keep yours."

Leaving the originals to ponder over the matter, Vincent turned on his heel and Dean started when the warlock addressed them both with a smile.

"Sam and Dean Winchester I presume. It sure is a true pleasure to meet you."

He held out a hand. Sam was the one to shake it since Dean was still frozen in place.

"It's a crazy world out there," Vincent said to them when he finally stepped back. "I've heard rumours of you battling greater evils out there than the one we currently face today." Dean awkwardly shifted to one side when Vincent carried on watchin' them with something almost akin to awe. "You've given up your own lives to keep our World's heart beating so thank you, for letting me wake up each day and feel gratitude that I still get to live in it."

Dean licked his dry lips and when the appreciation speech finally came to an end, he managed to swallow and clear his throat. "That," he began. "was not the welcome we were expectin'."

"Maybe not," Vincent replied, his tone portraying nothing but understanding. "but as far as I see it, you've done a lot more good than bad and that says plenty in my books." He gradually trailed off and his voice turned forlorn. "Here's hoping that one day… if your sister ever finds her way back to you… I can tell her the same."

"We'll be sure to let her know if she ever decides to show up," Dean muttered, his scorn towards Grace's unexplained absence clear. "But in the meantime, you can prove that you're as good as Hayls seems to think you are and repay us by healing the kid."

"It's the least I can do," Vincent replied solemnly. He turned back to face Klaus and Elijah, whose agitated eyes were fixed on Hope's small and quivering form. "As soon as I'm finished, you gotta leave the city."

"Well, we're not gonna stay, are we?" Klaus snarled, never once moving his focus away from his daughter. "Your city has lost its charm."

Vincent made a move to retreat and sensing the rising animosity, Hayley leapt up from her kneeling position beside Hope to quickly intervene. "What he means to say is that we're very grateful," she whispered, pushing through as much sincerity as she could even when her voice started to shake. "Just help her and we'll leave."

"Just give us what we need and we will do so, happily." Elijah implored.

Vincent critically appraised them for one more second before his gaze drifted over to the Winchesters, who stood firm.

"Excuse me," he finally relented and the Mikaelson's quickly parted, giving him direct access to Hope. He lowered into a crouch at her side and pressed his fingertips together in prayer. Yet before he began to mutter out the incantation, he paused. His dark orbs curiously flickered down to the necklace which the young girl currently wore.

"Do you mind if I remove this?" he questioned her gently. At Hope's confusion and the stiffening of Hayley's hovering form from beside him, he was quick to add, "A talisman such as this is a powerful form of protection towards whoever wears it and it could either repel or weaken the effectiveness of my spell." He smiled softly when Hope still peered up at him, reluctant. "We'll place it back on as soon as I am finished," he reassured her.

Hope blinked wearily, then with a hesitant glance towards Dean who nodded once, she unlocked the clasp and placed the necklace to one side.

The pentagram symbol glared back up at her and her fingers twitched, itching to put it back on but she refrained.

Vincent clapped his hands and rubbed them against each other, resuming the form of a prayer. "Okay," he muttered to himself. Then he began the incantation, his fingertips tapping against each other in a rapid dance.

"Nettoyer timoun sa a. Nettoyer timoun sa a. Nettoyer timoun sa a. Nettoyer timoun sa a. Nettoyer timoun sa a."

He placed the pads of his fingers against Hope's temple and colour instantly began to flood back into her cheeks. He watched it happen with a smile.

"And there we have it," he said and a simultaneous sigh of relief from almost everybody in the room, echoed around the compound walls.

"That's it?" Dean questioned, disbelief coating every pore on his face.

Vincent replaced the pentagram chain back around Hope's neck before rocking back on his heels. "That's it. She's purified."

He stood up and faced Dean, who was still struggling to come to terms. When Sam didn't share his surprise, the older Winchester instantly voiced his own shocked thoughts aloud. "What? No fluids? No bunnies out of hats gettin' sacrificed?" He then rounded on Bobby, who had stayed uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole affair and demanded, "You didn't have any of that in the books at your place?"

"I have the information on how we kill them or stop them from killing you kids but sure, I'll get right on writing a detox spell manual for the witches to use, just in case one ever decides to stop by," Bobby deadpanned back.

No one noticed how the older hunter's cautious and disbelieving gaze had never once left Hope.

The young girl was now slowly pushing herself out from beneath her blanket, eager to leave the couch.

"Mom," she whispered and that was all she needed to say for Hayley to rush forwards and wrap her up in an embrace.

"Thank you," Klaus uttered out his gratitude but Vincent just held out his hands, stopping the heartfelt appreciation in its tracks.

"Now look, the only gratitude I need from any of you is seeing you leave the city."

He made a move to leave.

Hayley slowly unwrapped her arms from around Hope.

A crow quietly cawed from somewhere in the night sky above them.

"Go see your daddy," Hayley whispered.

Hope turned around.

Her eyes locked with Klaus.

She started to walk towards him... a wide smile on her face... then a high-pitched beep started to fill the silent air.

"Dean!" Sam yelled out.

Dean instantly whipped around. He took one look at the flashing bright red lights before springing into action. Snatching up the salt bag, he shouted, "We have a Casper, Hayls!" and poured the white grains onto the ground whilst frantically glancing up at the sky.

A second crow had appeared in the blackness above. It cawed alongside the first - then a third appeared.

Soon, a whole swarm had gathered and swiftly shaking herself out of the shocked stupor, which still befell everyone else, Hayley grabbed Hope and thrust her towards Dean.

The green-eyed Winchester caught the petrified girl with one hand, poured out the remaining salt with the other and closed the circle just in the nick of time.

The caws from the sky were now almost as deafening as the continuous beep sounding from the device in Sam's hand.

Hearing it all, Hope clutched Dean tight. Her small arms wrapped tight around his waist and she buried her face into his shirt.

Dean kept her there, obscuring her vision from whatever twisted abnormality was about to happen next. His own head craned back, watching with his mouth agape as the crows abruptly began to drop.

One by one, the feathery corpses plummeted to the ground. They splattered all around the hunter and the young girl, skirting around the edge of the white grains of powder.

Never once did they breach the line.

Never once did they fall within the confines of the barrier which Dean had put in place.

To those well-versed in hunter lingo, it meant only one thing.

Inside the salt circle, Hope was protected.

"What is this?" Klaus snarled at Vincent, who had immediately hurried back as soon as the birds had started to fall but in the face of the hybrid's furious demand, the warlock was lost for words

"I don't know."

"Couldn't have had a lame-ass Swayze ghost to deal with," Dean muttered to himself and feeling Hope's terrified grip on him quiver more violently, he raised his voice, "Sam?"

"We're right," Sam responded, eying the birds with something almost akin to vague interest. "It's definitely some kind of spirit but there is something… almost different about i-"

He suddenly trailed off and his head slowly dipped down, staring without blinking at the device in his grasp. Dean immediately followed his line of direction and his jaw clenched.

The EMF meter was crackling. Small cracks were forming on the glass which enclosed the flaring led lights. Sparks of electricity began to burst from between the seams.

Sam was quick to predict what was coming. He retracted his hand as if burned and the device landed on the cobbled ground with a clatter. He stepped to one side just as the red lights exploded. He narrowly missed the tiny shards of glass which propelled themselves outwards.

The entire device was downright fried and even though his heart was pounding with adrenaline, Dean remained inside the circle, protecting the single thing this entity wanted.

And the child in question was currently loosening her tight grip on Dean. She craned her head back and stared unseeingly up at the sky.

"Can you hear that?" she breathed and that single, eerie question instantly grabbed everybody's attention. "It's whispers… saying a name… over and over…" Sea blue irises instantly locked with Dean's and she said softly, "Kre Nah Han," Her eyes snapped to her mother's and she repeated the exact same words. "Kre Nah Han".

"Vincent," Hayley's voice quavered as she reluctantly moved her protective gaze off her daughter so she could directly face the warlock. "What is that?"

Vincent let out a long, exhaled breath. "It's a nearly forgotten dialect," he hesitantly explained and feeling the ice surging through his veins, he had to force his next words out. "It's Creole. It means The Hollow… The Hollow is coming."

Perspiration trickled down his face and without meeting anyone's gazes, he rapidly backed away.

"I gotta go," he frantically told them and before they could demand for him to remain in the vicinity, he was quick to assure, "I have somebody who might have a lead on this thing. For now, find a way to keep your little girl inside one of those things." He wildly gestured towards the salt circle to accentuate his point. "It will prevent her from suffering further but whatever this spirit is, it is still connected to her. I'll see what I can pull up on my end."

And with that, he made his swift exit from the compound, leaving the rest of the occupants stunned.

Dean was the first to break out of it and before anybody else could react, he quickly knelt down to Hope's height. "Are the voices gone?" he uttered and at her slow nod, he gently pulled her out of the salt circle.

Deeming it safe for now, he passed her off to Hayley who instantly enveloped her in her arms.

The older Winchester waited until the hybrid mother had completely retreated with her daughter upstairs, then he closed the space which separated him from his brother in three long strides and was quick to voice his demand.

"Dude, what the friggen hell was that?"

"I don't know, Dean. I don't know what to tell you." Sam's orbs never moved from the broken device at their feet. "But the reading… it was off the charts…" He finally raised his head and said in the quietest undertone. "Dean... no ghost should be able to do that."

"So this thing is just stocked full of a little more juice than our average haunt," Dean replied and his attempt at rationalisation, however weak, managed to slow down his heart. His brain snapped into gear and settled on assured determination. "We'll figure it out." A subtle shift of movement sounded to his left and not even sparing a glance in that direction, Dean snapped, "What? No comments? No words of wisdom? You know what? What good were you just now?"

"Dean," Sam slowly cautioned but Dean didn't need the reprimand. Bobby's disgruntled face and brutish retaliation scolded him just as easy.

Made him feel like he was nothing but some disobedient kid.

"Don't get mad at me cause for the first time in a long time, you boys have no idea what type of otherworldly crap you're up against," Bobby snapped.

"Then what do we do?" Dean forced out the retort. "'cause I am all ears right now."

"Scout the city…" Sam stated. "You heard what Hope said before about those other kids." At Dean's blank look, he heaved out a sigh. "I get it," he said quietly. "You were feeling way too worried about her to listen to what she was saying. But before she collapsed, she told us that there were other kids who were getting hurt, so it stands to reason that we are not the only ones who have come face to face with this entity..."

Sam shook his head, continuing to think hard.

"Whatever it is," he mused to himself. "It's after children… specific children and considering Hope's a powerful kid, it would be wise to search for children who are similarly potent."

"Okay." Dean nodded along, feeling more and more secure by the second with the notion of something to focus on. A plan began to form in his mind. "So we find the kids, talk to them, talk to the families. It's a start."

He stepped back from his brother to regard the other remaining occupants of the courtyard.

Klaus had finally finished clearing away the feathered corpses and now, both he and Elijah were observing the hunters attentively.

Dean talked directly to them. "Someone also needs to talk to that Bewitched dude. I don't know about everyone here but I was getting some serious cagey vibes off him." His lips twisted into a suspicious frown. "He definitely knows more than he's letting on."

"Let me see what I can do," Elijah offered and Dean nodded once in his direction.

There was a sudden faint clearing of a throat and he craned his head back. Both Sam's and Bobby's brows were raised and from the look on Bobby's face alone, Dean immediately understood the cause for their disbelieving amusement.

He instantly jumped on the defence. "The chick in the movie is hot okay..." He straightened up, tall and unashamed. "That cute little nose scrunch."

Not to mention blonde… and Dean wasn't going to go there.

That original-sized dilemma could wait.

"I… wasn't going to ask," Sam replied.

The abrupt sound of footsteps echoed round the compound. Everyone swiftly spun round to see Hayley slowly descending the stairs, without Hope, to re-join them once more.

Klaus was the first one to voice his concern. "How is she?" he asked her softly and Hayley exhaled a low breath.

"As well as can be expected," she said quietly, the thin stress lines around her eyes and mouth clear. "The circle is working and she's not in any pain," she looked him directly in the eye and whispered, "She's asking for you."

"Then make an excuse," Klaus retorted. His previous worry for his daughter was now twisted with a much darker emotion. And he let it be heard. "I've been powerless for five years. That's plenty of time to work up an appetite for rage and revenge..."

His ocean irises glinted with malice as he stared Hayley down.

"I assure you," he said softly. "I'll be just as effective as your hunters in squeezing out answers from any of our potential adversaries... I'm sure they'll all become quite amenable when I show them exactly what it looks and sounds like, when one loses the benefit of a spine…""

Hayley squared her shoulders, refusing to buckle under his gaze. "Well," she snapped sharply. "I think you'll be even more effective at being a father and staying here to protect our daughter."

Klaus balked and at the same time, the air left Dean's lungs. He exaggerated the whooshing sound it made.

"Looks like you're getting side-lined," he muttered. "Tough break."

The hybrid bristled at the words. A slither of molten hot gold burned furiously in in his glare when he rounded back on Hayley. "Leaving you to do what, exactly?"

"I'm going to handle Marcel," Hayley responded simply. She crossed her arms tight across her chest, confident and resolute in her plan. "We need his pass to walk freely around the city and out of all of us, I win Most Likely Not to Get Killed on Arrival."

She trailed off and that small moment of brashness instantly faltered. She chewed nervously on her lip, feeling the fear rise once more when she thought back on her daughter's ashen and exhausted face.

"Whatever ghost we're up against, it's more powerful than the average ones I've seen in the past," she muttered to herself. "When it comes to Hope, I'll take all the help I can get to sort this out quicker so the way I see it, it's as much his problem as is it ours."

Klaus looked like he was ready to interject but a calmly raised hand from Elijah rapidly prevented it in his tracks. The older original regarded Hayley deeply and while she felt a warm shiver from simply looking in his eyes alone, she remained unyielding.

This was her daughter's life on hand. She had spent the entirety of Hope's life protecting her.

She would not be the one to sit out.

Elijah seemed to read her resolute mind and he grudgingly conceded. "Then a word of warning," he said and while the words were gentle, his features were hard. "The Marcel that you knew is gone. So whatever he is now, he's no ally."

"Then it's a good thing I have my backup," Hayley replied with a smile, feeling Dean take a determined stance on her left. "We'll get this done."

Elijah stared at her for a moment longer. Oak eyes reluctantly scanned over the three hunters by her side, then finally, he nodded.

Hayley took that as her cue. "Then let's get going," she commanded and when Sam and Bobby proceeded to gather up the necessities, she lowered her tone so she was speaking only to Dean. "You and I? we still have a lot to sort through," she whispered.

The green-eyed Winchester paused then reluctantly tilted is head to the side, letting her know that he had heard her words loud and clear. "Sure Hayls," he muttered.

With a firm nod, Hayley strode out of the compound, leaving Sam and Bobby to bring up the rear.

Steeling himself, Dean was ready to follow when a firm hand on his shoulder forced him back.

"Be mindful of that one, mate," Klaus warned him lowly. Cautious and slitted blue eyes warily shifted to the open iron gates where Sam had recently exited. "Your brother isn't being entirely honest with you when it comes to the whereabouts of your sister."

"The hell do you care so much?" Dean demanded. His entire frame stiffened when Klaus' hand minutely flexed but despite the rise of ire, the hybrid's reply was casual.

"I'd rather have you as an ally than one of my many enemies."

For the smallest minute second, Dean's corded muscles relaxed ever so slightly and with a faint tilt to his lips, Klaus continued with a reluctant yet utmost honesty, "Kol's and Rebekah's trust are especially hard to gain and despite my initial reservations towards you and your family, I am not one to simply let that slide."

Dean remained silent, portraying not one single reaction to Klaus' words but the hybrid knew they had not gone unheard. And so, he took a step back, the dangerous glint in his gaze still paramount as they remained fixed on the exit.

"Heed the warning," he said lowly and Dean paused. Then after a moment of deliberation, the hunter crossed the room and Klaus easily caught the rectangular packet which was tossed in his direction.

"Don't let the circle break. Understood?"

Klaus glanced down at the salt bag, his expression unfathomable. Yet when he finally looked up, Dean almost started at what he found staring straight back at him.

Gratitude.

"Thank you," Klaus uttered and Dean swallowed back the sudden swell of emotion which had lodged itself in his throat.

Because the both of them knew that those two single words didn't just pertain to his actions tonight and coming up with nothin' to say in return, Dean just sent the hybrid a sharp nod. Then he turned on his heel and briskly caught up with three of those he considered family.

Bobby was the first to make his approach and Dean clenched his jaw, internally preparin' himself for the first fight ahead.

"So, we all came up in separate cars," Bobby stated, completely none the wiser to the cold front which now passed over Dean's face. "Where are we all convening?"

"With you?" Dean responded. He took time to clear his throat before dispassionately landing the blow. "Sioux Falls."

There was a long silence and Dean kept his eyes distant, never once looking towards the shock and anger and disappointment which was sure to be in Bobby's eyes.

And when Bobby finally allowed Dean's words to fully sink in, his answer was gruff and painstakingly hoarse. "If this is about me not tellin' you about your brother rising out from the great beyond… I did what I thought was right."

Dean wearily exhaled. "This is not about that," he responded but he still refused to meet the accusation which blared out at him from the corner of his eyes. Because deep down, maybe all of the secrecy was part of the reason why he refused to let Bobby tag along. But there was also another part… a stronger part… which outweighed almost everythin' else.

And Dean let that part be known.

"Hayls, Sam and I? We have all this sorted but right now there are so many other things that are goin' through my head 'cause we both know Hope isn't the only one in danger."

His declaration hung tersely in the air around them and while Bobby remained stubborn, Dean refused to be deterred. He had been playing this game for a long time. With John as a father, he had plenty of experience in holdin' out longer.

He knew exactly which mental places to shoot, just as easily as he would physically with a gun.

And so, with that, he snapped, "Bobby, you sold your soul to Crowley and when all this is over and we've saved Hope, I am not comin' back to your yard only to find out that your contract with him is still up an runnin' and he still has you as his bitch."

Seething brown eyes locked onto green but Dean refused to step down. He stood tall, firm and resolute.

Without relent.

Without compromise.

A muscle in Bobby's jaw ticked. "Fine," he growled. "I'll go home and sit on my ass waitin' for you kids to figure it all out and play the all-saving heroes." He turned his back sharply on Dean and strode towards his Chevelle, all the while tossing some sharp parting words over his shoulder. "When your sister returns and she will, you get her to call. There's somethin' I need to talk to her about."

"Sure," Dean replied under his breath. "Got it."

Bobby never once turned back to acknowledge that Dean had heard him and the green-eyed Winchester held back a wince when screeching tires pierced through his ears, signifying the older hunter's departure.

Once the rusted tin can of a vehicle was completely out of view, Dean blew out a short breath of relief. He then made his way over to the remaining pair, who were both leaning back against the Impala and watching him with curious eyes.

"How did he take it?" Hayley whispered and while a rush of appreciation poured over him at her decision to block out the conversation and respect his privacy, Dean's fists still clenched.

"It's Bobby," he muttered. "How do you think?" There was a small silence and Dean's shoulders sagged as he allowed the anger to slowly ebb out of him. "But he needs to find a way to tear up that contract so Crowley can't collect and he can't do that here. And he better get one up and over on that dirtbag demon 'cause when all this is over, we're owed a damn celebration."

Hayley nodded along distractedly. As she unseeingly watched Dean unlock the car, she could feel her frayed nerves rattle further at the mention of Crowley's name. It sent her head into a tailspin and his face was now swimming in the forefront of her mind so clearly.

It obscured her entire vision and soon, Hayley was no longer sliding into the passenger seat of the Impala but into an ornate wooden chair.

The world hazed out around her and she let the desolate memoirs of the past play though her head...

---

"… Death, the Horseman - he's gonna be there." From in his own seat behind the table, Bobby cast a desperately imploring gaze towards the five figures who were situated across from him. "And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, get his ring back-."

"Yeah," Dean interrupted with a cynical air. "You make it sound so easy."

"Hell, I'm just trying to put a spin on it."

Hayley leaned back and agitatedly picked at a loose strand of her hair, which had fallen out of her unkempt ponytail, while she rapidly surveyed each member of the fearless family she had grown to love in turn.

Grace sat rigidly beside her: her head was buried in her arms which rested on the table. She hadn't made a move to participate in the conversation since she and her brothers had returned. And apart from hearing the miniscule stutter of Grace's heart at the mention of the actual being Death, Hayley didn't have the first clue as to what the female hunter was thinking.

Dean and Cas were easier to read. Hayley could almost see the gears in Dean's head whirring as he weighed up their abysmal chances of survival in obtaining the final Horseman ring.

The angel simply remained in a perpetual state of confusion.

It was Sam who spoke up and his curious question instantly called Hayley to attention. "Bobby? H-how'd you put all this together, anyways?"

The older hunter shrugged sheepishly. "I had you know... help."

A loud, unexpected clink from behind them caused everyone to whip around in their seats. Hayley's irises blazed gold at the sight of an unfamiliar black-suited stranger, who was suddenly standing so casually in their midst.

Completely unabashed to the multiple pairs of eyes now fixed cautiously on him, he proceeded to fill up an empty glass which sat on the surface in front of him. And all the while, he spoke smoothly to them all. "Don't be so modest. I barely helped at all."

Hayley felt Grace straighten up beside her but to her immediate surprise, she realised that the smoky-eyed Winchester was not fully watching the new arrival but something else entirely.

"Did you know Bobby had that?" Grace muttered and Dean followed her line of view to the half-filled bottle on the table.

For a moment his expression changed to a mixture of affronted longing. Hayley had to hold back a faint smile. She had been the only one to overhear Bobby mutter quietly under his breath, "Gotta keep you all from drinking me out of house and home."

Footsteps abruptly echoed on the wooden floor, snapping Hayley back to the present. The suited stranger had begun his approach, the alcohol filled glass in hand.

"Hello boys…" he greeted. "And girls, a pleasure as always… etcetera etcetera."

Grace was the first one to speak up and she did so without a slither of the kindness which Hayley had grown to know. "Crowley. I don't recall sendin' you an invitation."

"I invited myself in," he airily responded. "And there's no need to worry. I'm not offended."

A cold slither of wariness rippled round the room and when Crowley took yet another step closer towards them, Hayley released a warning growl.

Dark eyes snapped in her direction.

"My hellhounds are scarier," he said calmly but Hayley never took her focus off him as he took a prolonged sip of his drink. "And I have no interest in your little rug rat downstairs." His lips slowly curved. "We'll keep that little secret between ourselves, shall we?"

Click.

Crowley slowly dragged his gaze away from Hayley to lock resolutely with Grace's narrowed glare. More specifically, the weapon which was now firmly pointed in his direction. He sighed. "Swan, can we put the gun down, we're all allies here."

Grace's aim remained steady. "Not in my books."

Hayley rumbled out her agreement which was chorused by the other four occupants but Crowley's smile remained. "So trigger happy," he noted with amusement. "And so testy." He sharply jerked his head forwards. "This is all his idea after all."

"What the ever-lovin' hell are you talking about?" Grace demanded and the demon's smile twisted into a smirk.

"Go ahead," he said, his glinting gaze languidly sliding over her shoulder, "Tell them. There's no shame in it."

Grace's stance wavered. Then slowly, she and her brothers, along with Hayley and Cas, simultaneously swivelled back round to face the one person who was now deliberately refusing to meet their eyes.

"Bobby," Sam darkly questioned, his composed tone now tinted with uncertainty as he forced the other hunter to concede. "Tell us what?"

Bobby looked at them all each in turn before finally resting on Crowley, whose smirk had avidly widened.

Bobby's hands clenched over the armrests of his chair and he bowed his head while he reluctantly grumbled out the words. "World's gonna end. Seems stupid to get all precious over one little soul."

"You sold your soul?!" Dean exclaimed, aghast but before he could explode out the torrent of anger which now raged through his chest, a seething mutter made him stop still.

"You stupid ass."

Bobby slowly glanced up, his expression beggin' for her to understand but Grace refused to back down.

"That's what you said to us the time we did it, wasn't it?" she asked him, then vehemently swept on before he had chance to interrupt. "Told us that we Winchesters were just itchin' to throw ourselves in the pit. Thought we had learned the hellfirey benefits about that the first time around. Seems not so I guess you're officially one of us now - and in this case, that's not a compliment." She tossed her head back, laughing coldly to herself. "And here I thought you were less screwed-up in the head than the rest of us."

"Grace," Dean softly reprimanded and she rounded on him, her face flushed in her anger.

"It's the soddin' truth Dean, he sold his goddam soul!" she bellowed and Dean held back his flinch. He recognised that tortured look in her eyes more than anyone.

"Well, more like pawned it," Crowley clarified evenly, his attention returning to the gun which Grace still directed at his chest. "I fully intend to give it back."

"Well give it back!" Dean snarled.

"I will."

"Now!"

"…Did you kiss him?"

The entire room fell silent.

"Sam," Dean chastised but his younger brother just shrugged.

"Just wondering."

"To be fair, it's a valid question," Grace interjected. "We both kissed our one…"

All heads turned. Five pairs of inquisitive eyes fixed themselves on Bobby once more. Hayley's own began to narrow at the tiny beads of sweat which began to trickle from the hunter's pores and after a second or two of demanding attention, Bobby's face quickly screwed up in disgust.

"NO!"

Hayley frowned.

"Your heart blipped," she stated and the hunter growled,

"The hell it did!"

"Ahemmm…"

Everyone swivelled back round. Crowley held his phone out for them all to see.

And there, depicted by the light of the screen in ultra-high resolution… was the lip lock.

Hayley balked. Grace's grip on the gun wavered. Cas looked away and Sam and Dean tilted their heads to the left, their stunned eyes fixed on the screen.

From behind them all, Bobby's cheeks flushed with humiliation. "Why'd you take a picture?" he demanded and Crowley flipped his phone back round to smugly admire the image for himself.

"Why do you have to use tongue?"

Silence once again fell.

"You know what?" Dean seethed, finally shaking himself out of his stupor and leaping to his feet, making sure to hide the shudder of revulsion which still crawled through his insides. "I'm sick of this. Give him his soul back now!" A small movement out of the corner of his eye caused him to groan out in exasperation. "Oh, for this you lower the gun!"

"No, I'm still pretty pissed," Grace casually responded but Hayley had caught the slight twitch of her lips… she also caught the sudden, silent conversation which was being exchanged between her and Crowley...

And in the midst of the terse back and forth argument between the Demon and Dean, Hayley also heard the quiet vibration of Grace's phone… and she recognised the image attached to the message received.

"I'll return it," Crowley assured them and with a small smile, Hayley drifted her focus back to the conversation. "After all this is over and I can walk safely away." Black brows raised. "Do we all understand each other?"

---

The memory faded and Hayley found herself back in the present once more, her nerves fizzled and her heart pounding fast.

She was no stranger to danger, she frantically reminded herself. She had dealt with things like this before. This ghost was just another monster… just another monster attempting to tear apart her family.

They could handle this.

They would save her daughter…

'Down on Bourbon Street

You know it's right

You can see my friend,

They run around all through the night.'

The sudden blast of music blared through her ears and she jumped before shaking her head with amused exasperation.

"Really?"

"It's my Zeppelin tape," Dean lightly defended. "Not my fault it started playin' first."

And despite the situation, Hayley smiled. The familiarity of the music, which she had grudgingly grown accustomed over the years, helped soothe her. She leaned back against her seat, her entire body sagging while she let the lyrics to Royal Orleans wash over her.

But as the Impala gathered speed to rapidly close in on their destination, Dean's expression remained hard. Concerned forest eyes kept flitting towards rear-view mirror and Hayley drew her lower lip between her teeth, her own worries beginning to rise.

Because she would have been a fool to not notice the difference.

Because Sam had showed no reaction to the music… he hadn't even said a word since he had gotten into the car. He just sat and stared out the window.

Dean clenched the wheel tight and when his hand moved to switch gears, Hayley reached out and squeezed it in assurance.

They would help Sam through this… she silently promised him. Lucifer, Michael, Zadkiel, the Cage, all of it. They'd help him in any way they possibly could… and when Grace finally returned, they would be ready to help her too…

'Cause that's just what family does.

---

Vincent watched the Impala disappear into the distance with hopeful and equally fearful eyes.

He hoped that the all-legendary Winchesters were the very aces he needed in order to rid this city of the evil which poisoned it. He knew of the rumours and the stories. The hunters had battled so many great monsters in the past and they had always come out on top...

And yet... the warlock's fear still lingered.

Because should they fail, then there would be no other who would ever be able to succeed.

And New Orleans would be bathed in a darkness unlike it had ever seen.

That's why Vincent had concealed her presence from them, why he had allowed her to tag along and observe the full work of this spirit, along with its capabilities, from the shadows.

She had never once been surprised at the chilling display all aimed at Hope Mikaelson, who had now become its reluctant prey. And it was the very words which the young kid had whispered, which had made Vincent realise a deep and unsettling truth.

And the truth was that this woman, who he had magically concealed from the Winchesters and the Mikaelsons, the woman who now stood silently beside him... she knew a hell of a lot more about all this than he did.

And now that he had recently come to figure out her true identity, Vincent didn't even hesitate in sponging up every tiny bit of information she had to offer.

After all, he needed all the help he could get.

"You called it a Hollow," he said. His words were quiet.

It wasn't a question and yet she replied just as silently, her smoky-blue orbs fixed unseeingly on the streets ahead.

"I did."

Vincent pressed the tips of his fingers together in desperate prayer, almost nervous to speak out his next chilling assumption. "You heard the whispers too."

She never once blinked. "Well obviously."

Vincent exhaled a low breath. "Then come on."

He careened off down the street and Grace Winchester lingered back for a second longer.

Then she slowly turned.

Her blank gaze slid back to the closed compound gates which loomed high above her head, encasing her face in its shadow.

And when she finally took off after Vincent, down the gradually busying streets of the French Quarter, her parting words drifted on through the warm, daytime breeze.

"And so history repeats itself."

---

I'm still here! Hope you enjoyed this long and overdue chapter - it definitely took a while but life just kept getting in the way and after watching the end of Supernatural, I wanted to give a think on where this story eventually ends up. If you're still here, I hope you're still enjoying the ride!

Let me know what you think and I'll see you in the next update!

Reviews - (If you rember writing them - Sorry again!)

AugustRrush: Thank you! Hope you liked the long update to make up for the long wait!
Shiko-Rae: I'm so glad you liked the last update! And Grace has made her identity known to Vincent. I love all those questions and they will definitely all be answered in time – I have so many plans and I can't wait for you to read them! Hope you enjoyed the long update! It was such a long wait for you!
Dark-Supernatural-Angel: I know! And you are definitely still going to see Dean struggle with the aftermath of the dreamscape in the next chapter too. At least we can see that Klaus is starting to trust Dean a little bit more in this chapter! Ahhh I'm loving these questions! Grace definitely knows a fair bit about the Hollow and you will find out more about it as the story continues. You saw from this chapter that Sam and Dean are definitely stumped with this one but Bobby does seem to possibly know something… you'll find out all in time! That's amazing that you read it in your work break! Hope you're still enjoying the story even though it's been such a long time!
TillyPan: Thank you! If you're still reading, I hope you enjoyed the update! It was so long overdue!
aurora. Starr. w20: I'm so glad you enjoyed the last update! I hope you enjoyed this one too even though it's been so long.
ThatLady234: I'm so glad you like it! The state of Sam and Grace's souls and Grace's intentions will definitely be uncovered in time. I hope you enjoyed the long update!
jm8121: I know… and then I left you hanging for two years! Life just kept getting in the way but I hope you enjoyed the long update to make up for it!
jynxieminxie: I'm so happy you enjoyed it! I know! At least Vincent has uncovered her identity and there will be a lot more of her in the next chapter for sure. Who knows… maybe she'll run into a Mikaelson… I love Rebekah and Dean together too! They just clicked when I wrote them together in the dreamscape – here's hoping they find their way back to each other! Hope you enjoyed the update even though it took so long!
Avathar: Thank you so much! I love the scenes with Hope and Grace too! They are just so heart-warming for me to write! Dean and Rebekah are a pairing which I didn't know if it would work when I first thought of it but when I began to write them, they just clicked! Kol and Davina too – that dreamscape was mentally damaging for them all in so many ways! I hope that Hope gets Sam and Grace back in the right way too – we'll see where this story takes me. I have plans… so many plans! Hope you enjoyed the long overdue update!
AnimaQueen: I'm so glad you liked it! Haha, that's definitely the dream! I hope you liked the update even though it took forever!
Astrid Claire: Definitely a good question! And sneak preview: the Swan Song episode is definitely not the last we hear of Zadkiel. Hope you enjoyed the overdue update!
Rose0508: I'm so glad you are enjoying it! Hope you still are!
Guest 1: I'm so happy it's your favourite! It means a lot! Hope you enjoyed the update even though it took so long!
piluinwonderland: ¡Gracias! Estoy tan feliz de que te guste mi historia.
Guest 2: It took ages but it's finally here! Hope you enjoyed it!
Heckley Panes: I'm so glad you're enjoying it! And I finally continued it! Hope you liked the long update!
Partha Lahiri: It's finally here! Hope you liked it and all the flashbacks.
ElektrikRush: I'm so glad you're enjoying it! Hope you loved the update!