"-what the hell were you thinking? Do you have any idea what the fuck could have-"

Sitting perched on the sole portion of the fence that was still standing, the night dark around them save for the light of the moon and stars far above, Skye listened to Dean question her intelligence. Or at least pretended to, and had been for about ten minutes now. It'd been a little alarming, at first, all six-foot-two of him legit pissed and yelling, but that faded after about the first thirty seconds when she'd started yelling back. Now, though, he was on his third round of 'what the fuck were you thinking' and she was just waiting for him to run out of steam.

"-you could have been killed. You could have gotten Sam killed-"

Shifting, Skye slowly leaned over and lowered her voice, nudging Sam's shoulder and jerking her head in Dean's direction, "Has he always been like this?"

"Yeah, pretty much." Arms crossed over the top rail next to her, Sam rolled his eyes in Dean's general direction before settling his gaze on her. "How you holding up?"

"I'm good." Was she, though? The laughter of two dead children echoed in her head, unheard by the two men with her, as the kids played 'Dodge the Big Angry Oblivious Man' with Dean as he paced. Because that was normal. "Actually, I'm questioning my sanity."

"You'll get used to it."

Finally cottoning onto the fact that Skye wasn't hearing a single thing he was saying, Dean rounded on her, actually raising his voice another notch which she wouldn't have thought was possible. "Are you even listening to me?"

Alright, this had gone on for long enough and they had places to be and people to do, not to mention a stolen truck sitting a few yards away. Jumping down off the fence, Skye was totally unimpressed with Dean's temper tantrum. "I'm sorry, were you actually sayin' something? 'Cause it sounded to me like you were just blowin' a load of hot air."

Crossing his arms, Dean glared down at her and looked like he was revving up for another round of 'Let's Wake the Neighbors'— not the fun NC-17 version— and Sam's snickering probably wasn't helping any. "Excuse me?"

"Damn right, excuse you." Hands on her hips, she matched Dean glare for glare, not twitching so much as an eyelid when he stepped up to try using his size to cow her into submission. She was starting to think he wasn't totally conscious of doing that kind of thing, so used to being one of the biggest guys in the room. Well, good luck with that, buddy. It hadn't worked on her yet and it wasn't going to start now. "I get it, you can breathe now."

"I-"

"You're right." She couldn't quite keep from smirking up at him as she watched her words penetrate, short-circuiting his brain and bringing his ongoing tirade to a screeching halt. "And I'm sorry I scared you."

Sam's laughter rang out behind them, drawing a dirty look from Dean and turning Skye's smirk into a full-blown smile. "Man, she really does have you pegged."

Choking back a giggle at the nonplussed expression on Dean's too-pretty face as the wind went right out of his sails, Skye's voice drifted back over her shoulder, "Nobody asked you, Long John." Sam's voice echoed her own words back, adding a mocking twist that she quickly returned with a middle finger.

"Did you just admit I was right about something?"

"Okay, maybe not so much 'right' as just 'not wrong'." Come on, what was suspicious about that? She couldn't admit that maybe she'd done something stupid? Not that she wouldn't do it all over again if she had to, she totally would, but mentioning that part seemed less than politic just then. "Now, about the kids…"


Popping open the trunk, the squeal of the hinges unnecessarily loud in the still night air as Dean stared at the mess in the trunk, pondering what exactly his life had become and wondering how in the hell it had happened. Was there some deity out there laughing at him right now?

"You okay, Dean?"

"Oh, I'm just grand, Sammy." Grabbing a shovel and a bag of salt, Dean tossed them to his brother before turning back to dig around in the clutter of bullets and blades for the other shovel he knew was there somewhere. The clink of glass on metal drew his attention to the bottle of holy water that had been back there for God knew how long. ...now there was an uncomfortable thought. "You know what, ask me that again here in a couple hours."

"What are you doing?" Leaning against the car, Sam watched him stuff the bottle in a coat pocket, a silver knife and a bottle of lighter fluid soon joining it before Dean finished digging out the other shovel. "Are you— Have you not tested her yet?"

"No. I haven't." Slamming the trunk and slinging his shovel over a shoulder, Dean dared Sam to make an issue out of it. So he hadn't done the most basic task of making sure the mystery girl he stumbled over in a back alley wasn't, say, a demon or a shapeshifter or any of a dozen other different things. He'd kind of had other things on his mind at the time. "And?"

"And you're going to do it now?"

"She's seein' ghosts that we can't, Sam." Stalking away from his brother, Dean didn't look up as Sam stretched his legs to keep up, heading around to the back of the house where Skye claimed the kids said they were buried, both in one adult-sized coffin right next to their extra-dead mother.. At least they only had one hole to dig. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"People see ghosts others can't all the time. Hell, most people never see any and we've seen dozens." Okay, so maybe Dean didn't have the best timing ever, and Sam had a point but-

"She's carrying them around, Sam. That's not normal and I sure as fuck have never heard of it-" Generally speaking, even the legit psychics that could see spirits that didn't want to be seen couldn't interact with them, not like they were solid flesh-and-blood little people. If it were to living kids, it'd probably have been incredibly endearing to watch, but as it stood it was creepy and unsettling on a deep fundamental level and the thought that she might not actually be a person herself was enough to send his brain spinning in all different directions. "-so yeah, I'm gonna test her. I should have sooner I just...didn't."

"Oh, she is going to be so thrilled."

"Shut up, Sammy."


Standing over the simple headstone mounted above the kids grave, Dean read the names and made a face, glancing over at where Skye stood a few feet away. "Emilia and Clarke? Seriously? Did I wake up in Westeros this morning?" Sinking the tip of the shovel a few inches into the dirt at his feet, Dean blinked, looking back at Skyler. "You know, you kinda look like her. Danari-Daneur...the Dragon lady."

"Daenerys." Raising a brow as Dean stuttered over the exotic name, Skye shook her head, scoffing at the suggestion as she at her happy ass down to watch the boys get to work. Crossing her legs, she propped her weight up on her hands, the end of her dark braid brushing the ground below. "Must be the hair."

"No, I can see it." Leaning on his shovel, Sam nodded agreement with his brother after giving Skye a good once-over. In fact if it were any better of a once-over, Dean might have considering thinking about hitting him. Again. "Well, except for the part where Daenerys is about two feet taller."

"Fuck you, Swizzle Stick."

"Skyler! Language." Pausing in his efforts long enough to clap a hand over his mouth, Sam gasped, his eyes widening in faux-outrage. "There are children present." Taking a quick look around, Sam frowned, brow furrowing as he tried to figure out if they were actually still there or not. " ...right?"

"Sitting right there laughing at you." Nodding her head toward Constance's headstone, Skye smiled, watching something cute or funny that they couldn't see. "They like you, Stringbean." Jerking her head in Dean's direction, Skye flashed him a saccharine-sweet smile. "Him not so much."

Muttering something rude under his breath that Dean was probably real lucky Skye didn't hear, he spared a quick look in the general direction of the unseen brats. "Yeah, well, tell 'em the feelings mutual."

"Tell them yourself. They're invisible, not deaf."

"And why is that, exactly? Why can you see them and we can't?" Flinging away a shovelful of dirt, Dean stopped and looked up at her, leaning an arm on the handle of the shovel as he asked the question that had been rolling around in his brain. "And why did they save you when Constance tried to flatten you?"

"Excellent question, I don't know." Meeting his eyes for a second, she tilted her head, a vague smile flitting over her lips as she listened to things he couldn't hear. Which was beyond aggravating, even if she did let him into the loop two seconds later. "They say it normally takes energy to be seen by the living but not for me?" Eyes sliding away from his, her gaze locked on the air about four feet off the ground just in front of her and she nodded absently before looking back up at him. "...and they just knew I would help them, I guess. I don't think they can really explain it either."

"So we get to dig a hole. Great." Resigning himself to the next couple hours of work, Dean dug the shovel blade deep into the earth, too busy grumbling to himself to hear Skyler get up and walk over. "Never had a spirit ask to be salted and burned before."

"Well, there's a first time for everything." Standing a couple of feet away, she watched him and Sam dig up a few more buckets worth, the faintest smile teasing at the edges of her lips. Slipping off her denim jacket, she gestured for Sam to hand over the shovel he was using, stepping up to take a turn. "They're tired. They don't wanna be here anymore and they're ready to move on, they just need a little help to do it."


Arms wrapped around the children's shoulders, Skye watched Dean fling the last few square feet of dirt out of the now open grave, revealing the full-size coffin that she knew held two less-than-full-size people. Giving each kid a squeeze, she stuck on a reassuring smile as she looked down at the two somber faces staring back up at her, choosing to focus on them and not the sound of the shovel cracking open the rotten wood four feet away. There were some things she'd rather not see, and baby bones was pretty high up on the list. Spectral children tugging at her clothes she could handle, their actual remains not so much.

Will it hurt?

"I don't know, I've never done this before either." Crouching down to sit on her heels, she slid an arm around each little waist, heedless of how she must look to the two men looking on. On the one hand, sure, this was creepy as all fuck. On the other...they were just babies, and what was creepy about that? "It's okay to be scared, though, and it's okay to cry." Who knew ghosts could cry? Reaching up to wipe off a glittering tear off Clarke's cheek, she tried to be as calming as she possibly could. They'd already been through so much, they deserved a little comfort at the end, even if it was just the little she could offer. "Everything's gonna be okay. I promise."


Hauling himself up out of the grave, Dean retrieved the can of lighter fluid from his jacket, finding himself oddly reluctant to take the last final step to send the kiddos on their way. He couldn't help feeling sorry for them. After all, he wasn't a total asshole. Usually. Though in this case it might be more Skyler he was feeling sorry for, considering he couldn't actually see the children and that did tend to make it a little harder to sympathize. Was she crying? ...fuck.

Biting the bullet, he flicked open the can, signaling to Sam to dump the salt before emptying the cans contents into the coffin. Tossing the empty can away, Dean dug a box of matches out of his pocket, hesitating as he looked over at Skyler. "You uh-you might wanna take a step back from 'em, Tink. Sometimes there's-" Giant flames and screaming agony? Yeah, no way he could say that. "...I don't want you to get hurt."

"I'll risk it." Refusing to look up at Dean, Skye shook her head, sniffing back a few more tears. Probably didn't want him to see her cry. To be fair, he didn't want to see it either, completely unable to offer her any kind of solace, though he wanted to more desperately than he cared to admit. How could he comfort someone that A: he couldn't even touch and B: thought he was the world's biggest asshole?

Sam exchanged a glance with Dean, looking like he was having similar difficulty refraining from going to give the girl a giant hug. Running a hand through his messy, dirt-crusted hair, Sam winced as he agreed with Dean. "He's right, Skye."

Blinking up at them, eyes suspiciously bright, Skye looked at them both with an expression that clearly said they'd have to pry her way from the kids with a crowbar and they'd probably end up kneed in the groin for their trouble. "I said I'll risk it."

"...alright." Fine, if she wanted to be that way, she could be that way. Besides, if the kids really did turning into human torches, she'd back off fast enough. Right? Right. Mentally calculating how far the nearest hospital was just in case, Dean struck a match and held it for an eternal second, letting the miniscule flame sputter and catch before dropping it into the gaping hole at his feet.

Sputtering, the match threatened to go out before it grabbed onto the flammable liquid and flared to life, quickly engulfing the wood and the tragically young bodies inside it. Dean had been expecting that. Even fully expected those same flames to sprout around the children, bringing them to view and burning them to nothing. Or at least, that's how it usually went, but the world's full of surprises. And so was Skyler Bleu.

As they became visible to the naked eye, the children clung to Skye, heads buried in her shoulders as if she could save them from the flames licking at their clothes and teasing at their hair. And...she did. Well I'll be a son of a bitch…

The fire sprang up higher, enveloping Skye and the children and Dean found himself frozen in place, though every instinct he possessed was shrieking at him to grab her and pull her away from the threat. Except suddenly there was no threat, the harsh orange and red flames changing as they touched her, shifting and transmuting into swirling tendrils of blue-white light that hurt to look at.

And just like that, it was over, the brilliant light fading away to nothing and leaving just the Winchester boys and an exhausted Bleu behind. "...the fuck was that?"

Blinking at the whateverthefuck they'd just seen, Sam nodded slowly as he turned his head to look at Dean. "You know, maybe testing her isn't such a bad idea."

"...you think?"


"...I don't do what I've been told, you're so lame why don't you go…"

The music blaring from the earbuds stuck in Skye's ears was loud enough to be clearly audible over the rumble of the V8, making any attempts at conversation— or an apology— futile. Dragging his eyes away from the mirror, Dean glanced at the time before looking over when Sam spoke up from the passenger seat. "How is she not deaf yet?"

"Beats the hell outta me." Tabbing his thumb against the steering wheel, Dean was completely incapable of keeping himself from glancing in the rearview for the umpteenth time. Chewing on his lower lip, he sighed, though it was mostly on the inside. "You think she's still mad at me?"

"...die motherfucker die motherfucker die…"

"Seems fine to me." Smirking at Dean, Sam slouched down in his seat, knees jammed against the dash and elbow on the passenger door. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Well, I checked out those coordinates Dad left us. It's a spot in a national park in Colorado called Blackwater Ridge." Thumb drumming a staccato beat against the steering wheel, Dean let his thoughts wander further than the girl in the backseat, thankful for the brief reprieve even if it did mean thinking about his missing-and-possibly-dead father. "I figure if we shag ass, we can be there by tomorrow afternoon."

"I meant about Skyler, Dean…" Leaning his head back against the seat, Sam closed his eyes for a second before looking over at his brother, a trace of regret lacing his voice, "I've still got that interview on Monday and Jess is waiting for me. I'm not going with you guys… I can't."

"Yeah. Right." With everything else going on the last few days, somehow that one little fact had slipped his mind. With an almost physical pain, Dean felt his vague daydreams of him hunting down his missing father with Skye and Sam by his side slipping away to disappear into the ether. "Guess we better get you home, then."