Disclaimer: I own some dead girl yaaaayy!

Chapter 10 – Back to Work

"We need to come up with a plan, Dean," ventured Sam a week after the funeral. He sat on his bed, his laptop resting on his lap. Dean was getting dressed in the bathroom in the same hotel room they had checked into the day after arriving in Point Pleasant.

The funeral had been a small ceremony, with the Winchester brothers, a few family friends and Nacha's family. Her parents' grief made Dean's guilt increase even more, but guilt was the one negative emotion that had moved to the background as his own grief, shock and the realization that he would never see his beloved wife and his little Andrew again overwhelmed his heart. He had watched the coffins being lowered to the ground and he almost couldn't bear it.

Dean hadn't said a word nor shed one tear since.

Sam had stayed with him, promising to stick around until they killed the Mothman and Dean truly appreciated it. He did, but he couldn't show it as he would have liked. The grief was starting to control his actions, making him depend on Sam and Dean had always hated to depend on anyone, especially on his little brother. And so he tried to help himself for Sam.

Dean knew he was becoming a burden to his brother. He tried to help Sam, he really did. He tried to smile as much as he could whenever Sam tried a joke or a casual comment, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. He tried to help with the research, but somehow he felt that it would be useless, and he didn't have the energy to surf the web endlessly like his brother.

Something he did manage to do was recover. The fever had finally gone away for good and his left shoulder was healing nicely. This seemed to have lifted Sam's mood considerably, making it easier for Dean to cooperate. However, he still had trouble keeping up with the world around him, often shutting himself down in his own mind.

"Dean," insisted Sam gently, pulling him out of his thoughts. He walked out of the bathroom, his hair still wet after the shower. He sat down on his own bed facing Sam and looked at him solemnly, aware of the words Sam had uttered before. Dean knew he was right. They needed a plan and they would come up with one, but it's just that nothing seemed to be worth trying anymore… he noticed Sam was hesitating, unsure if he should bring up the topic.

"I… I don't know why the damn thing hasn't attacked yet, but we need to be ready. What if it's planning something big? We need to have a plan."

Dean didn't really know why, but the fact that Sam had started talking business again brought him back slightly from his world of gloom. Any conversation about a hunt had been so normal between the brothers once upon a time that it brought back memories of happier times, and Dean mustered the strength to speak again, if only for the sake of the hunt.

"Maybe," Dean cleared his throat. His voice sounded foreign and dry, he hadn't used it in so long. "Maybe it doesn't want me, maybe it already accomplished what it wanted."

"Do you believe that?" asked Sam incredulously, although Dean didn't fail to notice the small spark in his brother's eyes at hearing him speak again. Dean shrugged indifferently as all answer to his question.

"How exactly did you and dad kill the Mothman last time?"

"I told you, we used machetes and chopped its head off."

"Yeah, but I mean what did you do to actually catch it?"

Dean sighed and searched his memory for a few seconds before answering. He straightened up and fixed his eyes on Sam, his mind finally setting on getting back to work.

"The Mothman always stands near whatever it's making cause destruction. So we figured the only way to kill it would be by using one of us as bait and waiting until it showed up. While the Mothman watched whatever it was controlling attempt to kill the bait, the other crept up behind it and beheaded it. It wasn't easy back then; when we did it, we had some back up… Caleb used to live around here, remember?"

"Yeah, was he the bait?"

"No, I was. Dad had told him to stay around just in case, so when the Mothman realized dad was about to chop its head off, it tried to attack him but Caleb came out of nowhere with a machete and killed it."

"And where were you?"

"Fighting a bear."

Sam frowned in confusion and sat a little straighter. Dean realized he had sounded out of context, but hadn't he talked enough already for one day?

"The Mothman was controlling it," he explained.

"So this thing can control animals without possessing them?" asked Sam alarmed. Dean nodded calmly.

"That one could. Imagine what this one's capable of."

"Damn…"

"Hm, yeah."

"You don't seem too concerned," commented Sam trying to sound casual, when he was actually quite worried. The lack of any kind of emotion was unnatural and Sam hoped this stage would pass soon. He feared that during the hunt Dean would take far more risks than necessary just because he didn't seem to care about anything anymore.

"Well, we just have to kill it in the same way, only this time there's no back up. One will be the bait and the other will kill it."

Sam sighed but nodded anyway, even though he noticed Dean had avoided saying who would play which role.

"Yeah, okay. Anyway, I found out where we're likely to find it. It says here," he said looking back at the laptop, "that the Mothman has always lived in forested areas, where it is surrounded by beings it can control and also plenty of places to hide. But I couldn't find where exactly it lives, though."

"We might find it in the same place dad and I found the other one."

"That'd be a good place to start, I guess…"

Dean stopped the car at a safe distance from the forest line. Both brothers stepped out of the car and instinctively made their way to the trunk where all the weapons were stored. Dean opened the door and took out the EMF meter, two machetes and a loaded pistol just in case. He gave one machete to Sam and kept the other one to himself as he tucked the gun in his jeans and the EMF in his jacket pocket. This ritual made Sam feel like they had never stopped hunting. Everything seemed so natural; so much that if the car had still been the Impala, Sam would have had difficulty convincing himself that about five years had passed since each brother had gone on his own way.

"Okay," said Dean closing the trunk, once again taking the lead, for hunting was what he did best. "At the first sign of its presence you have to hide as best as you can. I'll be the bait 'cause we already know it wants to kill me anyway. You see the son of a bitch, you kill it."

"What about you, we don't know what this thing's capable of controlling, what if you can't defend yourself?"

"I'll manage-"

"Dean, I'm serious."

"So am I, Sam, I'll manage. You just worry about killing it, okay? I don't want you to worry about me 'cause that will just get us both killed. C'mon let's start walking."

"Wait, it's like 10.30 in the morning, are we gonna find it this early?"

"Probably. Last time we killed it at noon… the Mothman doesn't really have preferences of time like other creatures."

They walked determinedly towards the forest, Dean holding out the EMF meter, which gave him no readings as the trees came closer. The small object reminded him of the night he had spent by Andrew's closet, fearing the presence of a supernatural creature, only to find a dysfunctional toy. He shook the once amusing memory away. Concentrate; just don't think about anything else.

More and more trees began appearing at either side of them as they walked deeper into the forest. The bright sunlight filtered through the leaves and branches easily still, although it wasn't as bright anymore as it had been out in the open. The EMF remained silent as the path underneath them became dried leaves and the sound of birds and crickets became louder.

"Do you know where we're going?" asked Sam wondering if a demon could possibly live in such a beautiful place without turning it into chaos.

"Yeah, we'll be there in about an hour if nothing has changed since-"

Suddenly, the lifeless EMF shone bright red as all its tiny light bulbs lighted up as a high-pitched noise filled the peace of the day. Dean unconsciously stepped in front of Sam, pushing his little brother back slightly, as he stared straight ahead.

There seemed to be an unusually bright light ahead and Sam forced his eyes to look at it to try to make out a shape. It was human.

"The girl!" said both together referring to the ghost of Averill Park.

And neither had rock salt. How could I let this happen, wondered Dean as he realized it was the third time the girl caught him off guard. Both Sam and Dean knew this was no friendly ghost, which meant they were in real trouble now that they had absolutely nothing to protect them against ghosts.

Dean stepped fully in front of Sam and waited.

They remained in that position for seconds that could have been hours, but nothing happened. The girl kept staring at them, giving out that incredible light that blinded them.

"I thought these things only came out at night!" Dean heard Sam shout from behind him. Only then did he realize why she looked so bright. It was because of the daylight. Whenever they saw ghosts it had always been at night, where there was no more light than that coming from the spirit. Now, in the bright morning, the sunlight seemed to reflect on her, making her unnatural light twice as bright.

"Yeah, well I don't think she agrees with you," he replied finally, unable to take his eyes off her. Why wasn't she attacking them? She didn't even seem angry. She simply hovered there, her red hair covering her sad face, which looked as disfigured as ever, but not threatening as it had before. She moved her arm slightly and Dean pushed Sam back unconsciously, but all she did was a small motion with her hand, as if asking them to follow her. Then, she moved without walking out of the path and into the forest.

"C'mon," said Dean and began to follow her, but Sam grabbed his wrist.

"Wait, Dean, it could be a trap," he whispered urgently, but Dean seemed impatient, not wanting to lose track of her.

"So? Trap or no trap, she'll still take us to wherever this thing lives, which is exactly where we need to go." He jerked his arm away from Sam and walked on, Sam at his heel.

A/N: Finally sort of nearing the climax of the story lol… or at least starting to approach it. Thank you guys so much for all the reviews they really do keep me writing! Sorry for taking my time to update, but with school and exams and things it's a little harder now… so thanks for all your support, I'm so glad you guys are liking this :) Thank you!

Random Note: Wow this has gotta be the first chapter where Dean's not hurt at all! Ah, don't worry, he'll be in pain soon enough probably… hahaha sorry but there's nothing like a heroically hurt Dean!