Dean Winchester loved all the diners he and Sam had to visit to satisfy their hunger. They had a charm all their own: the shabby walls, the leather seats burnt to a crisp with cigarettes and the hot waitresses who saw in every male visitor a chance to get out of their backwater.

Dean and Sam had been in Oregon for weeks. Every now and then, new cases involving supernatural beings came up. The usual routine, and the older Winchester enjoyed it. He was getting pretty tired of all the apocalypses and angel wars and the like. Dean just wanted to live and hunt. Nothing more, nothing less. But he was well aware that he was a Winchester, and the Winchester family had a complicated life.

The diner where the hunters were staying was quiet and empty. Only the old jukebox was playing lyrical music. The waitress was hard at work wiping down the bar, but she glanced over at Dean, who seemed genuinely nice-looking, but didn't look in her direction.

- The newspaper's website said that Mindelson had been found dead in his own house three years before. So he's not the one messing with the new tenants.

- We should check it out. What did he die of? - Dean asked and took a bite of his burger with a wild passion.

Sam just wrinkled his nose at the picture before him.

- What? Did I get dirty? - Dean looked over his flannel shirt, but didn't find any traces of sauce anywhere.

- You're gonna have to lose weight soon, Dean. And it's so unhealthy to eat a burger every day!

- I'm entitled! In case you die tomorrow or worse. - Dean had a second burger.

- You can't justify death.

- You better tell me, what did he die of, Mindelson?

- Says here he died of a heart attack, but the obit says tragic. It's worth checking out this house after all.

Phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. Dean put the burger back on the tray and took the phone out of his pocket.

- Hello. Yeah, Bobby. I'm on it. Yeah, doesn't seem too hard. All right, as soon as we're free, I'll get right on it.

- What's up?

- An old friend of Bobby's didn't check in yesterday. They call every week, but she didn't pick up this time. He asked me to check in on her. She lives in Oregon. Some small town about an hour away. So finish your scrambled eggs. We got to deal with the ghosts quicker.

Dean looked sadly at the unfinished burger and took the car keys from the table.

The angel Castiel was standing in the middle of a field of young wheat that was just gaining colour. There was a sepulchral silence all around, but it had nothing to do with the fact that the angel was somewhere in a wooded area in Europe. There were dead angels lying around Cass and the ground around them was scorched, forming a silhouette of wings.

Another ambush on Castiel had failed, but Raphael was still strong. Cass cleaned the blood from the cut on his face with his sleeve and looked around him, noting that few angels had been sent. This made him suspicious.

Angels aren't supposed to feel emotions, but as Cass looked at the bodies of his brothers, he felt sadness. Each killing made an invisible wound itch around his heart that the angel could in no way explain, even to himself. A feeling of regret overwhelmed Cass after each strike of the angel's blade.

The heavenly warrior looked out at the sun, which was so scorching that Castiel could feel the heat through his beige cloak. Something told the angel that it was not going to be an easy day.

"Castiel, there's a job for you."

The voice in his head was masculine and surprisingly soft. Angel didn't know which of his brothers it belonged to, but on a subconscious level Angel knew that this voice could be trusted. Something familiar lurked in the soft timbre.

- Who are you?" said Castiel into the void, and immediately he heard the answer to the question.

"Someone you've never met, but someone who keeps bringing you back to Earth."

Castiel tilted his head to the side. His eyebrows drew together at the bridge of his nose in incomprehension.

- 'Are you God?

"To an extent, yes, but that's not the point. You have one man to protect. Trust me, Castiel, you are my pet. I have hope in you."

A new squad of angels, sent by Raphael, rushed into battle. Castiel braced himself.

- It burns well. - Dean Winchester watched the remains of another ghost burn. It was already night when they were done with the case.

It wasn't until half an hour later that they set off. Dean was awfully sleepy, but he knew the drive wasn't far, and they might be able to get a bed for the night. Assuming, of course, that Bobby's old acquaintance was okay.

Sam was sleeping peacefully in the seat next to him, holding a book. Winchester probably wanted to read it on the road.

Night was picking up its pace. Twilight was slowly turning to darkness, enveloping everything around it like a thin blanket.

His eyes slowly closed. Dean squeezed them shut and shook his head, chasing the sleep away. Winchester heard the familiar rustling of wings, and now there was an angel perched in the backseat.

- Damn it, Cass! Can we please stop doing that. Especially in the car. I'm driving.

- Sorry, Dean. I need help.

Dean looked back at Castiel. The angel's face was wrinkled. Though the brunette's hair was always disheveled, now his head was in real chaos. Droplets of blood were clearly visible on his beige cloak, and Dean hoped the burgundy liquid didn't belong to humans.

Winchester could see that his friend was going crazy because of the war in the heavens. Felt something bad was happening to Castiel, and Dean thought it was his fault that the angel had changed.

- You okay?

- Yeah. If you're talking about the way I look, there's no damage. There's a man I need to protect, but his location is hidden from me. I need help.

- I'm the fairy godmother today!

Sam, who'd been snoring peacefully until then, woke up and looked around with an incomprehensible sleepy look.

- What's going on, Dean? - he asked.

- I'm on fire today, like hotcakes on sale.

- Oh. - all Sam could say, shifting his bewildered gaze from one man to the other.

- Cass, we'll help you as soon as we check on one man, especially since we're almost there. Another fifteen minutes and we're there.

Bobby Singer had a guilty conscience. And for a long time. After all, it was his fault Clio Blackwood didn't know her father. At the moment, the hunter's soul was scratching even harder, since his old acquaintance Caroline hadn't made contact, even though he'd promised he'd protect the family. Whatever that meant to him.

Even though Clio was a witch - she had always been a hunter's daughter and thanks to Bobby she had an almost normal life with teenage years, college and parties. It was Bobby who persuaded John Winchester not to take his daughter out of the hands of the old witch, not to include her in the family business.

The girl grew up unscathed, surrounded by people who loved her. However, Caroline, despite John's promise to protect the child, forbade the hunter to appear in any way in the life of her only daughter. Winchester was worried about this. All he was left with was phone conversations with Caroline Blackwood once a week, during which the witch shared details of her heiress' life.

After John died, Singer secretly began keeping tabs on the girl. Every Friday, Bobby contacted Clio's grandmother, who was still hiding her origins from her granddaughter.

Despite the quarrel, Singer treasured his friend and substitute father for John Winchester's sons, but he couldn't forgive himself for not giving Clio the chance to meet John. And now he was dead. Clio was left a round orphan.

Bobby decided to call Dean again. The boys need to know who he sent them to.

- Dean, I got something to say. It's important. It concerns my friend Caroline. First of all, she's a witch. Please don't interrupt. She's light. Secondly, you and Sam have a sister. And as of right now, you're going to her house. Her name is Cleo and she's Caroline's granddaughter. I promised John I'd look after her in the event of his death. I hope you'll realize there's a reason your father hid her existence. She is a witch after all.

- That's great, that's great. Our father turned out to have a lot of children.

Sam, who had watched his brother get angry, wondered if everything was okay with their new family member.

Dean, on the other hand, was furious. He didn't understand why his father was hiding his children from them.

- I couldn't believe it. Strange family we're getting, though: beautiful archangel wrappers, an accountant angel, and some witch who's a sister. Oh, great. Good thing we don't celebrate Thanksgiving.

- What does accountant mean? I don't do accounts and finances.

Dean's completely oblivious to the angel's presence in the backseat.

- Oh, Cass! Don't you start!

- Dean, calm down. Maybe it's not as weird and scary as it looks. Imagine having a little sister. Now you can send her boys away.

- She's a witch, Sam. And that's gonna blow our kinship with her.

There was silence in the car. Everyone was thinking about something else. Only Angel was staring puzzled into space. He had a mute question on his face.

- Dean, what's your sister's name again, please?

- Clio. Cleo Blackwood.

- I'm supposed to protect her.

- What?

Kevin Monroe never thought he would be tying up his own granddaughter. Or rather her body, in which, like a parasite, a demon is lodged.

- You know, honey, if we don't find a way to get Clio back, I won't be able to kill the demon when it's inside her body.

- Hopefully, we won't have to. A simple spell didn't work, but hopefully the ancient books will. - Mrs Blackwood was flipping through the pages of some folio from her personal library.

Archie, who had managed to knock Ne-clio out with a vase with a mixture of fear and sadness watched as the demon in his beloved girl's body thrashed hysterically, laughing and cursing at everyone present. It pained Archie to look at Clio's bound body, but he was already going over the options for destroying the demon without harming the girl herself. He knew for a fact that she was now trapped in her own mind.

Caroline was kicking herself for not being able to keep her granddaughter safe from the demon. The entrapment hadn't worked, or the witch had lost her guard and her powers. She didn't know for sure. In her long life, Mrs. Blackwood had only encountered demons a few times. The witches of their kind, though mostly natural, were capable of minor sorcery, which they used as they wished, but never harmed those around them, so they were never interested in demons. A weak bloodline by witches' standards, but very generic. Maybe it was the mingling of bloodlines that caused the Blevuds to lose their powers for generations.

Suddenly a street bell sounded in the house. Caroline had not called for visitors, and she had no idea who might be arriving at this late hour. She rose from her chair and put the book aside.

- Kevin, Archibald, close the doors to the living room. No one must see her. And cover her mouth with something.

- All right, Caroline, you've got blood on your cheek.

Mrs Blackwood got rid of the stain with her apron and tossed it next to the book. With one last sad glance at the demon, Caroline left the living room and headed for the front door.

The sound repeated itself again.

- Who's there? - Caroline didn't open the door.

- We're from the dog-catching service. We have a couple of questions. - It was clear from the voice that it was a man, and Caroline could have sworn she heard someone being hit.

- Nobody's home.

- Excuse us, Mrs Blackwood, we're from Bobby Singer. - another man's voice came over, softer and calmer.

Caroline had completely forgotten about the old hunter who had been bothering her every week with ridiculously useless calls.

Caroline opened the door, though, to see who the old man had sent. Worried, then.

A strange trio appeared before her. Two of them looked like someone, but who, she couldn't remember. The third in the beige cloak was looking at her curiously, as if he had never seen a human being before in his life.

- Tell the old man it's all right. - said the witch and decided to close the door, but the foot of one of the men got between the jamb and the door.

- We're not going anywhere! We're John Winchester's sons, and we'd like to see our sister.

- Hunters, then. All right, then. A little extra help wouldn't hurt.

The witch didn't know what came over her. She didn't like hunters, but her granddaughter was part of that legacy. She had to put up with the family name being tarnished by their former enemies. Even though the Blackwoods had nothing to do with dark magic and certainly no association with demons, hunters were still a danger to them, albeit a minimal one. However, Mrs. Blackwood felt that she would need help. The hunters were probably better at exorcising a demon, or even killing one. That was their job.

Caroline opened the door and let the trio in.

- Whoa!" the blond-haired man exclaimed as he looked around the hall.

- What was your name? I am, unfortunately, you already know me.

- My name is Sam," the tallest of the men introduced himself and pointed to the others. - This is my brother Dean and my friend Castiel.

- John Winchester never said he had any other children. I thought hunters weren't allowed to have family. But that's not the point. You can't see Cleo. I only let you in because I hope you can help. You're hunters, aren't you? - Dean and Sam nodded in unison. - Then you must know a thing or two about demons. You know how to exorcise them?

Sam was surprised, or rather shocked. He'd guessed something was wrong when he'd noticed the small scratch on the witch's cheek, but he'd never known his sister to be possessed.

Castiel, who had been silent the whole time before, looked at the closed door with interest. Caroline noticed it, but didn't think much of it.

- I can feel her. - The angel said and pointed a finger at the living room door. - There she is. Only she's locked herself inside. She's waiting for something and she's afraid.

- What do you mean, Cass? - Dean looked at his friend puzzled, then noticed that the door to the living room was oddly scratched. It was like someone was trying to hold on to the door until the last minute.

- Your sister is still conscious and fighting for her body, but her strength is getting weaker and weaker. I can feel her emotions for some reason.