A/N: Oh my lord! It's been so long…summer classes take up more of my time than you will ever know…damn education.

Well, here is the fifth chapter, and we're starting to get into it a little…hopefully, I still have some people out there who stuck with the story! –pleads-

This one's pretty short compared to the others, but the next chapter is prewritten and I'm just waiting for reviews. Yes, I am holding out on you. –grin-

Fanfiction's been weird for a couple days, otherwise this woulda been up sooner, enjoy!

Same disclaimers/spoilers, etc etc.

On with the show! And please REVIEW!

Chapter Five: The Beginning

The brothers Winchester were tired. And drained. It felt like forever since they had relinquished control of Jamie to the local police force. They had found her in the hall outside the apartment after the brothers' quasi-fight—she was fast asleep, her head leaning back against the wall. Cautiously, Dean had lifted her into his arms, startled at how little she weighed. In the car, Sam and Dean had yet another whispered argument on whether or not to wake her up, before deciding that it would be more fruitful for them to go on with what information they had received.

"I told you we should have asked her while we had the chance!" Dean had whispered furiously as they rolled up the parking lot of the police precinct.

"Shut up. I think we have enough to go on now. And, even if we have more questions, we can come back and ask,"

For the sake of his sanity, Dean had agreed and they had told some story about finding the girl wandering in the park, crying about her mother's body in the apartment. The town's two police officers and detectives blazed their way to the apartment, with Dean requesting the blushing secretary at the front desk to be informed via cell phone if there were any new leads.

Sam had an argument for that one, too. "You gave them your cell phone number?" He had hissed in his brother's ear. "And what happens if they trace said number?"

At this point, Dean's frustration was causing his temper to fray rather quickly. He yanked his brother by the jacket outside before proceeding to tell him, using variants of colorful language, that the only way in hell they would know to trace his number would be if they did anything suspicious. He followed up with a got that, dumbass? and didn't wait for his brother to follow him to the car.

So now, half an hour later, they were sitting silently, researching the relations between victims.

"Let's draw it out," Sam broke the awkward silence, getting a look from his brother in return.

"If I remember correctly, Samuel, you aren't exactly Picasso,"

Sam dutifully ignored his brother, writing names down on his paper. "So we know, from hospital records, that Jamie Janine Buchanan was adopted at birth by Jim and Gloria Buchanan. Her real mother—" here Sam paused to write in CeeCee Durham, "gave her up, yet five years later became a part of their lives,"

"That sounds about right…"

Dean spaced out as Sam connected the dots to the rest of the family. They knew, for a fact, that they were all blood relations to Jamie. All except her adopted parents.

"So this thing—" Dean interrupted Sam midsentence. "This thing is after Jamie?"

"Why wouldn't it have killed her already?"

"And why are these random relations dying? Jamie's real, as well as adopted, grandparents are still alive,"

"Yeah, but her real grandmother's brother was killed in his teenage years, dude," Sam tapped the name Eugene Smith with his pencil. "And the only relatives killed—"

"All of these dead people were living in the same area, same state and all,"

"Yeah, none of her out-of-state relations have had unexplainable deaths,"

"So what do you think? Someone made a deal with the devil?"

"Maybe. Maybe it was a soul trade, or an angered demon,"

Both men fell silent, regarding the possibilities.

"You know we don't have much time." Dean looked at his brother.

"I mean, we don't know when it's going to strike again, but the only living relations to Jamie aren't in this town anymore,"

"Meaning if it's targeting her family, she's probably next," Dean's voice resounded in the hotel room. This—this thing, whatever it is, is a ticking time bomb—until it finishes off the last one.

"We have to figure out what's going on here," Sam voiced Dean's thoughts, bringing him out of his trance.

"I'm not going to let that girl die," Dean muttered, more to himself than his brother. But Sam heard it all the same, and regarded his brother with sad eyes.

"We can't save everyone, Dean,"

Dean looked straight into Sam's eyes, all traces of jest gone.

"Well, we can try."

…………..

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