Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all the follows, reviews, and favorites! High fives and hugs for each and every one of you!

As always, a huge thank you to Jenmm31. I couldn't do this without her- she's been a great friend, supporter, and cheerleader! Make sure you check out her amazing sis fics. You can find her in my favorites! She's fabulous, and after you read her wonderful O/C Kate, you can turn in your application to me to be a part of the "Kate Fan Club". :)

Please read, review, leave me any messages about anything you'd like to read about with Natalie, and ENJOY! Away we go!

A/N- in this story, Natalie is 14

The smoke from the gun barrel turned into silver clouds in the moonlight. Sam watched as the creature he had just plugged exploded into nothingness. He gave it another moment, taking in all his surroundings and making sure they were out of danger, before his eyes shifted back down to the crumpled figure on the ground. He quickly scanned her, making sure she didn't have any broken limbs or was bleeding. When he was satisfied, he lowered his gun and said quietly, "Are you okay?"

Natalie's shocked gaze met his stoic one- she had no idea he was even here. Where the hell had he come from? She let out the breath she realized she was holding. The panic of the second attack was receding. The common sense that had been eluding her all day returned to her in a rush, and she struggled to find her voice again. "Yeah, I'm okay," she mumbled. Now that the immediate danger was no longer right in front of her, a whole new panic was starting to take over, looking at her uncle.

"Good. Let's go home," Sam said evenly, but Natalie wasn't fooled. He was PISSED, and they both knew it. She dropped her gaze, the guilt starting to seep into her veins. Sam walked over to her in 3 easy strides. He held out his hand, and she begrudgingly took it. At least it was Sam who caught her and not Dean. Her dad wouldn't have helped her up- he would have just shot her stone dead on the ground.

After helping her off the dirty barn floor, Sam's grip shifted to her upper arm, and he began pulling her outside towards the car. Even though she was slightly annoyed at still being treated like a child, she didn't try to shake him off. What was the point? She'd just end up in more trouble. She couldn't believe this. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

FLASHBACK

Earlier that afternoon, she had been sitting at her laptop when she hit the jackpot.

"Ha!" she said, causing her father and uncle to look up from their own work. She grinned at them, triumphant. She leaned back in Bobby's old desk chair nonchalantly. They had been at Bobby's house for about two days now. They had gotten a call from him, saying that there was a case right there in his neck of the woods. Always eager to go back to the closest thing they'd ever had to a home, the Winchesters piled into the Impala and heading straight for South Dakota.

Bobby was getting up there in years, and wasn't comfortable hunting on his own anymore. When the story of the multiple murder victims in his area reached his ears, he had been on the phone with Dean right away. No stinking haunts messed with his turf, not if he had anything to say about it.

Since pulling in to the old homestead, all three of them had relished in their own privacy, thoroughly enjoying not having to be cramped together in a motel room, for one full day before getting back down to business. They had been doing their research, trying to find out if or how all these murders were connected. Sam had been checking out the victims' causes of death, trying to determine if it was the same spirit or demon killing these people off, while Dean had been checking into any connections they may have had with Bobby. When a case popped up this close to a hunter, it was relatively safe to assume there may be a connection. Natalie had been working on past incidents that may have caused a spirit to become trapped here and start wreaking havoc.

The boys had been letting Natalie get into the research more and more lately, which thrilled her to no end. She had been working on research for them since she was ten, when they had made the discovery just how shockingly good she was at making computers sit up and beg for her. She could often find things quicker than even Sam, so she had essentially cut their research time down by at least a couple hours per case. The idea of stopping evil, saving innocent lives, and being just like her dad was right up her alley. Dean had been pushing her pretty hard lately, both with physical training and mental training, drilling her with demonic lore. She had risen to the challenge, taking it all in, absorbing it like a sponge, and getting her father's cocky attitude along with it all. She had recently decided that it was time for her to go on her first solo hunt soon, despite being only fourteen. Her dad was being a stubborn goat about it, but she knew she was up for it- it was just a matter of time before he gave in.

"What'd you find?" Dean asked her now, matter of factly.

"Check it out," she said, twisting the laptop so they could see the old newspaper clip she'd discovered. Sam craned his head to get a better look. "About three years ago, this farmer dude, last name Baker, gets killed one night when a burglar tries to break into his house. Baker was trying to defend his family, and the thief shoots him and runs." She shook her head sympathetically- there was so much evil in the world that people didn't even know about; it was baffling to her how people could be evil to each other for no reason at all. She focused back on the case and continued.

"The thief was later caught and identified by the farmer's wife, tried for first degree murder, lifetime imprisonment, blah blah blah. Here's the interesting part. Take a look at the thief's description," she said to Sam. He stood up and walked closer to the computer so he could get a better look. His eyes locked on the picture of the murderer. He nodded with a grin.

"Good catch," Sam complimented her. She swelled with pride and sat up a little higher in her seat.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"The murderer was 23, brown hair, looked like he needed a few squares, or was strung out on something," Sam said.

"So?"

"All of the murder victims have similar traits to the thief," Sam explained. "All male, around the age of 20-25, dark hair, scrawny build."

"Looks like we got us a vengeful spirit," Dean commented, abandoning his own research and coming closer to the two of them. Natalie nodded and finished his thought.

"Who is targeting men who look like his murderer."

"Looks like it," Sam agreed. Dean reached over to the keyboard and began scrolling down the story.

"Do we know where Baker was buried?" he asked.

"Yep," Natalie piped up. "His wife buried him behind their old barn. She was so distraught after his murder, she insisted that he get buried on their farm. She apparently wanted him to stay close, even in death," she said, wrinkling her nose in displeasure. "Gross. But his spirit obviously felt her grief, which is why he lingered," she said. Dean nodded in agreement with Natalie's assessment.

"Where's the barn located?"

Natalie clicked on one of the tabs that she had opened earlier. "And there's the final proof," she said proudly. The Google map picture popped up on screen. She pulled back from it, and clicked another button. 4 small red dots appeared. She pointed to the star in the middle of the map. "See? Here's the Baker Family Farm. And these," she said, pointing to the red dots, "are the locations of the 4 murder victims."

"Nice, squirt," Dean complimented her, smiling. His kid was so damn smart.

"They're all within 10 miles of the barn," Sam said. "How does a spirit manage to drag its victims that far away from where it's trapped?" he said, something not adding up in his mind. Dean shrugged.

"Does it matter? We just need to stop the spirit from taking out another dude, and the whole situation goes away," he said.

"Yeah, I guess..." Sam muttered, still not satisfied. Natalie watched the small exchange between brothers, and then chimed in with her own idea.

"I agree with Dad," she said. "I mean, this just seems like a simple salt and burn, easy peasy. So I think you should let me do it."

Two pairs of narrowed eyes swung immediately to her, but she was not deterred. "Come on. This is child's play. I can do this in my sleep," she said, not even trying to conceal her cockiness.

"No," Dean and Sam said at the same time. Her face fell.

"Why not?" she pressed. She knew exactly what they were going to say- they had already said it a thousand times. But she was determined- they had to cut the cord sometime.

"Not this again," Dean muttered, turning away. Sam sighed his usual annoyed sigh.

"Bug..." he began patiently.

"DON'T call me that!" she interrupted angrily, her temper already flaring. She was SO sick of that nickname, and he wouldn't stop using it. Her outburst earned her a glare from her father, as if to say watch your tone. She snapped her mouth shut, but she was still ticked. Sam went on.

"You're only fourteen. You are not ready for a solo hunting trip. Not even close," he said gently. Natalie threw up her hands in frustration.

"Come on! All I have to do is burn the old guy's bones. For heaven's sake, I've already done a lot worse," she said.

"Not by choice," Dean interjected, still facing away from her. His blood boiled when he thought of the "Candyman Incident". Natalie knew exactly where his mind was heading, and she was determined to shake him out of it before he went on full Natalie Lock Down.

"But I was fine, right? This one is almost too easy."

"Exactly," Dean said, turning back to her, his hands on his hips. Classic lecture position, she thought bitterly to herself.

"You really still don't understand how these things can work- how these monsters and spirits and demons can act. Just because it looks like a simple case doesn't mean it is one. Doesn't even mean it's a spirit. There could be a dozen different factors that you're not prepared for," he said sternly, hoping against hope to nip this in the bud now.

"Okay, how about this?" she asked, trying her second tactic. When Dean saw that she wasn't backing down, his blood pressure spiked. He found himself longing for the days when she had just done what he told her, the first time. She very rarely fought him on anything, but lately she had been hell bent on this crazy idea of a solo job. They had taken her on several cases already, trying to curb this particular obsession. She was actually on her way to becoming a stellar hunter- her assistance on some of these jobs had proved invaluable, but they were very careful to only take her on cases where she could be out of arm's reach of whatever monster they were tracking. She had been training for years- basically since she was 6. Dean knew she was a damn good shot, and could even throw a knife better than he could, but it didn't change the fact that she was very small for her age, not to mention small for a Winchester. She didn't have the physical strength one needed to really go one on one with some of these supernatural creatures. She could run like the wind, but Dean's daughter was, unfortunately, way too much like him- she'd rather fight to the death than run to safety. He tried to come back to the present, tried to focus on her words, but who was he kidding? His mind was already made up.

"If I make a salt ring all around the grave, I'm perfectly safe while digging," she was explaining, expecting praise for her brilliant idea.

"Salt lines are really easy to break if you're not paying attention to them," Sam said, not missing a beat.

"So I'll pay attention to them."

"And what if something attacks before you can lay down a ring? Or what if it's not a spirit- what if burning his bones doesn't work?" Sam asked, challenging her. Natalie's temper spiked. Usually, Sam was helping her when it came to convincing her dad that she wasn't a toddler anymore. She wasn't used to him taking Dean's side, and she really didn't like it now. She focused her glare on him.

"You've already said, it's just a spirit..." she began.

"And I'VE already said that it might not be that," Dean interrupted. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He still couldn't believe his little angel was turning into such a...teenager. He was just wishing they could have skipped this stage, but no such luck.

"You're not going by yourself. We will take you with us to deal with it, but you are not going by yourself. End of discussion," he said, pointing a finger in her face.

She knew she shouldn't say it. Every instinct in her was screaming THIS IS A BAD IDEA! She knew better than to back talk, especially when her father had just laid down his infamous "End of Discussion" line. But the Winchester gene won out over her common sense, and she became instantly enraged. Her mouth opened of its own accord.

"Well I say it's not the end of the discussion!" she yelled.

Dean and Sam both froze. Sam's eyes almost popped out of his head as they swung around to catch Dean's reaction. He watched as Dean ever so slowly unthawed from his frozen position due to the blood boiling in his veins. Oh shit, thought Sam. Here we go.

"What did you just say to me?" Dean said in his quiet, dangerous growl. Sam's gaze shifted to Natalie. She had steeled herself for battle- she was really going to try this. He fought the urge to jump in front of her as a human shield.

"Just because you don't think I can handle this, doesn't mean you're right!" she yelled. "You never let me try anything on my own! You're so convinced that I'm just a no-nothing kid who can't do anything!"

"That's not true, and you know it," Dean stated, the warning ringing clear in his voice, but she paid no attention to that. She just plowed on.

"Yeah? Then let me do this!" she pleaded.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You are not ready for this yet!" he said, his voice rising. "This has nothing to do with you "not being able to handle" anything! I didn't even go on my first trip solo until I was eighteen. I don't even go on solo trips NOW! You know what we're up against, how important it is to have someone watching your back. Do you have any idea how many times over Sam and I would be dead if we weren't there for each other?!" he roared. Natalie opened up her mouth to retort, but he wasn't done. He had had enough of this argument with her. They had already had it more times that he could count. He held up his hand to stop her words. "No- I don't want to hear it. You're not going solo. And if you keep pressing the matter, I won't even take you with us when we do go kill this son of a bitch, got it?"

"You can't expect-"

"Watch me."

"You are being completely unfair!"

"And you are skating on thin ice, little girl."

"But, Dad-!"

"Natalie, you are not going solo. Not another word about it. That's an order."

It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Just because Grandpa made you into a soldier doesn't mean that I have to be one!"

The words hung in the suddenly deathly silent air. Dean instantly bypassed the hurt her statement had caused, and he went straight to pure anger. However, raging at Natalie wasn't the way to straighten her out- he wanted to get under her skin and drive his message home like a stake. Just like his daughter, his emotions overpowered his common sense. And he knew exactly what her particular Hot Button was.

"That's it." He pointed up the stairs towards the bedrooms. "Go to your room. You're in a Time Out."

Natalie's face registered shock. She actually took a step back, she was so surprised at his sudden turn. There was no way that he just... "What?" she stammered.

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack." Dean shrugged casually, like he wasn't about to explode at all. "You choose to act like a child, I'm sure as hell going to treat you like one. Go. NOW." He pointed towards the stairs again angrily.

Natalie was completely thrown. He hadn't put her in Time Out since she was eight, and for fuck's sake- she was fourteen. I was right, she thought to herself, the angry tears welling up in her eyes. He does still think I'm a child. She stammered for two seconds for a retort, but her brain failed her. She knew there was no other option, and she sure as hell wasn't going to burst into furious tears, further emphasizing her youth in her father's mind. She stomped off towards her room. Just as she rounded the corner, out of sight, Dean yelled out one more pissed-off dig.

"If you slam your door, you're gonna get it!"

Something in Natalie's mind snapped when she heard that. Any shred of common sense she had left had just been blown out of the water by one little sentence. She continued stomping till she reached her room, and closed the door as forcefully as she dared without actually slamming it. That would keep him off her back. Fine. She wouldn't slam her door. She'd just prove to them that they were wrong. About everything. Her mind began to spin out radically as she formulated her plan.

END FLASHBACK

Sam shoved her into the passenger side seat. She was grateful that at least he wasn't making her ride in the back. He slid behind the wheel, turned on the ignition, and threw the car into reverse. He peeled out in a move that was worthy of his brother. They had barely made it back onto the dirt path leading to the main road before he started in on her.

"Natalie. What the hell."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," she said with a sigh, leaning forward and resting her head in her hands. Now that her common sense was finally making a reappearance, it was beating against her brain like a drummer at a heavy metal concert.

"Did nothing we said this afternoon sink in?" Sam said, his voice rising. Natalie inwardly shrunk down- Sam almost never yelled at her, and when he did, he always had a good reason. The fact that she had just done something so colossally stupid, mixed with Sam's scolding, was almost more than she could take. "Well, obviously not, or we wouldn't be here," he finished, frustrated. She wrung her hands in her lap, knowing he was absolutely right.

"I know it was stupid. I...I was just...so mad..." she stammered. Sam's eyes shifted off the road for a second, watching her trying to formulate her words. "It was like...I just had to try. I had to prove to you guys that I could handle this." The angry tears that had threatened to spill earlier that afternoon were now burning her eyes with regret. "And I just….failed. Like, epically failed."

Sam took a deep breath, hating hearing her bash herself. "Natalie, this is exactly what we were talking about. This wasn't just a typical case. That's why you need someone watching your back at all times. I don't know how many more times we can tell you that it's not about you not being capable- it's about the fact that these creatures don't play by the rules. It's about the fact that if you get into a sticky situation with one of them, they won't go easy on you just because you're a kid. It's about the fact that they can think for themselves, and chances are, they know a lot more ways to kill you than you know ways to kill them." He looked sideways at her again to see if any of it was sinking in. Her whole demeanor was changing, from the angry adolescent that had thrown a temper tantrum this afternoon, back to the rational, smart young woman that he knew she really was. She was twisting her hands in her lap, and he knew she was battling to keep from crying. He turned his attention back to the road to try to give her a minute to collect herself. After a long moment of silence, she spoke quietly.

"You're right. I know it was stupid. I was just so angry and so driven to try to..." she broke off.

"Try to what?" he asked gently after a moment.

"...try to prove that I could handle it," she finished limply. Sam's eyes narrowed- there was something she wasn't telling him. He had always had this uncanny ability to know when she was lying to him. However, since this wasn't directly a lie, and he could see she was getting the message, he decided not to press the issue. He simply waited for her to continue.

"Look, I get it now. Those things moved more quickly than I thought, and I definitely wasn't expecting the second one." She glanced over at her uncle, sheepishly. "Thanks for saving my ass," she said in a quiet tone. "How did you know where I was?"

"You didn't wait long enough for the car to pull away from the house before you snuck out the window. Once I saw you take off running, it wasn't too hard to figure out where you were going," he said with a smirk. Natalie rolled her eyes at her own idiocy. Once again, he was right- the second she had heard the Impala fire up, she had climbed right out the window. She shook her head- boy, when her temper took over, she was stupid. Sam chuckled as he watched her put that one together.

"Your dad and I had been checking supplies, prepping to go after the...well, what we thought was the spirit. I noticed that we were completely out of rock salt, even though I thought that we had at least some left in one of the bags. So I left the...house to..." Sam stopped. Now he felt like the stupid one. He looked at his niece, who now had her own wobbly smirk on her face. "You took it all, didn't you." It was not a question. "So we would have to leave the house to get more." Of course. She turned her head to look at him, and shrugged with a lopsided smile. Damn Dean for teaching her that gesture, he thought.

"I had to be prepared, too," she said, and looked back out of the window. She still was shaken by how unprepared she really had been.

"Yeah? And remind me how that worked out for you."

"Not good."

"Finally. The kid learns a lesson."

She twisted her hands in her lap again. She needed to ask him a question, but she really wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Uncle Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to tell Dad?"

Sam took a deep breath, just imagining how that particular conversation with Dean would go. "Not unless I can help it, Natalie."

Her insides sagged with relief. The fact that she was safe from the wrath of her father was enough to make her giddy, and she gave him a rare smile. "Natalie?" she asked, jokingly. "Not Bug?" His mouth twisted in amusement at her question.

"I thought you didn't want me to call you that anymore," he commented. She flushed, remembering her outburst this afternoon.

"Naw, it's okay. And I'm sorry for yelling this afternoon. I didn't mean it," she said, abashed. He nodded, his smile widening. Her own grin threatened to get bigger, but she smothered it, as was her way. That nod from him meant he forgave her.

"Don't worry about it. BUG," he said, tacking the nickname back on.

"How did you even give me that nickname in the first place?" she asked.

He chuckled. "When you were way younger, I used to call you "Nat" for short. One day, I think you were about three, I called you Nat, and you said to me, 'Unca Sam, a gnat is a bug!'" he said, imitating her three year old voice. "So I said, 'Should I call you "Bug" then?' And you thought that was the funniest thing you had ever heard," he recalled, laughing at the memory of his niece rolling on the floor, uncontrollably giggling. "Every time I called you "Bug" for the rest of that day, you just started laughing," he said. "I guess the name just stuck."

She looked at him, incredulous. "You mean I was the one who made you call me Bug?"

"Afraid so."

She shook her head. "I cannot believe I brought this all on myself." Sam just slowly turned his head to look at her, an annoyingly smug grin on his face. She knew exactly what he meant by that particular look.

"Yeah, don't worry. The irony of the moment is not lost on me," she grumbled. Sam's eyes turned back to the road. Suddenly, his cell starting blaring from his pocket. He fished it out with one hand, and held it up to see who was calling at such a late hour. When he saw the caller ID, his heart dropped through the seat of the car.

"Oh shit," he hissed. Natalie turned her head to look at him. "It's Dean," he moaned.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god..." she gasped, beginning to hyperventilate.

He waved his hand at her, shushing her. "Do not make a sound," he instructed. She pressed her lips together and nodded. He looked at her once more to make sure she understood, then pressed the 'answer' button.

"Hey. What's up?" he asked, praying that his voice was nonchalant enough to pull this off.

"Do you have her?" came the growl on the other end. Sam's throat tightened. He used all the acting skills he had at his command to relax.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Sammy, cut the crap. Do. You. Have. Her."

Sam sighed, knowing the jig was up. Dean already knew he had her- he was just waiting for confirmation. Sam turned to Natalie, his eyes full of apology. "He knows," he mouthed at her. She slammed the back of her head against the car seat. He pressed the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah. I've got her," he said, resigned.

"Put her on, now."

Sam reluctantly handed the phone to his niece. "He wants to talk to you."

The feeling is NOT mutual, she thought, but didn't dare verbalize it. She took the phone, her hand shaking. She put it up to her ear gingerly like she was pressing a live viper to her face.

"H-Hey Daddy," she stammered.

He didn't return the greeting. "You went after the spirit, didn't you." Not a question.

She gulped. He could make her feel like a seven year old all over again, just with his tone. "Yes, sir."

"After I told you not to."

Four years old. "Yes, sir."

"Give me two good reasons why I shouldn't kill you with my bare hands the second you get home."

"Um...because you love me?"

"And reason number two."

There was a long pause. "I got nothing."

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?"

"Yes, sir, I think so," she said, her voice quavering.

"Good. I want you to think REAL hard about that on the drive home. Now give me back to Sam."

"Yes, sir," she whispered. She limply passed the phone off to Sam, not turning her head. He took it from her and put it back up to his ear.

"Yeah?" he asked his brother.

"Take the long way home. And drive slow." CLICK.

Sam looked at the disconnected phone and sighed. Natalie pulled her own phone out of her pocket and began typing furiously.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Typing out my Last Will and Testament," she answered grimly. Sam didn't say anything. It wasn't the worst idea she had ever had.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About ten minutes later, they pulled into Bobby's drive way. Natalie's heart sank when she saw Dean sitting on the porch steps. She caught a glint of light flashing from his hands. For a heart stopping moment, she thought- It's his gun. He really is going to shoot me dead- but when she narrowed her eyes, she saw it was really a tumbler half full of some honey colored liquid. She squirmed in her seat. Her dad only drank the super hard stuff when he was extremely upset. She said three four-letter words in her head, trying to expel some of the blind fear that was threatening to make her stomach turn inside out. It didn't help at all.

Sam pulled up next to the house, and stopped the car. He noticed Natalie slowly unbuckling her seat belt. He felt so bad for her that he didn't even know what to say. On top of the self realization that she wasn't able to handle hunting on her own, she now had her furious father to deal with. He shot her a sympathetic glance as he got out of the car. When she couldn't stall any longer, she pushed open her car door, and climbed out. She immediately dug her hands into her pockets and walked up to her father, her eyes downcast.

Dean's stoic demeanor was sticking strong, even though he felt like a land mine that just had a safe dropped on it. But he was a master at disguising his true emotions. His eyes slowly lifted from the glass in his hand to his daughter's face. She was purposefully not looking at him, but she didn't have to. He could read her like a book. Regret and sheer terror were radiating off her.

"Living room," he said evenly. She nodded quickly, still not looking at him, and scurried past him, up the steps and through the front door. He wasn't going to wait till morning to start in on her. He wanted this thing dealt with now. Sam watched her practically run into the house, then he slowly walked towards his brother.

Dean was lifting his drink back to his mouth, but paused long enough to ask. "Were you in on it with her?"

Sam stepped back in surprise. "What? No! No way!" he said hotly. Dean nodded and took another swallow before asking the next question.

"How did you know where she was?" he said, in that chillingly calm voice that fooled no one.

"I saw her climbing out of the window when I left to get salt."

"And you didn't try to stop her then?" Dean's eyes narrowed as he focused on his little brother. Sam shrugged apologetically.

"Since I was there to watch her, she wasn't ever really in danger, but she didn't know that. I figured it was the best way to teach her a lesson." Sam said cautiously, analyzing his brother's reaction. A muscle was jumping in Dean's jaw as if he was clenching his back teeth. Dean bobbed his eyebrows once in acknowledgement of what Sam had said, and threw the rest of the drink into his mouth. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, but couldn't make himself get up just yet. He rolled his aching neck around on his shoulders.

"Did she get hurt?" he asked gruffly.

"She's probably going to be a bit bruised, but nothing that won't heal. I'll let her tell you what happened. But I can tell you, she knows what she did, and she feels like crap."

The stillness in the post midnight air was unsettling. There wasn't even a breeze- just nothingness. Sam watched Dean internally wrestle with the whole situation, not knowing if he should try to offer his brother advice or just stay silent. When Dean got this way, it was a total crapshoot as to how he'd react. Either way had the potential to be exactly what Dean needed to hear, or the fastest way to get yourself killed. Sam opted to stay silent, which happened to be the right choice. Finally, Dean banged his glass onto the steps, not hard enough to shatter it, but enough to make a startlingly loud noise in the quiet night. He stood up, turned, and walked back into the house without another word. Sam followed a distance behind him, swiping the glass on the way in. He desperately wanted to sneak away into his own room before Dean started in on Natalie, knowing she would feel even worse if he was there when Dean started yelling. He made his way up the stairs, but kept the door open a crack- just in case.

Dean sauntered into the living room like he had all the time in the world. Natalie was sitting with her legs up on the couch, her arms wrapped around one bent knee, like she was trying to collapse in on herself. She always did that when she was in trouble- it was like if she could make herself smaller, she'd somehow become invisible. She was staring resolutely at the carpet, but Dean could see she had no fight left in her. Something had clearly broken her defiance. But that didn't mean he was going to let her out of the consequences of her actions.

"I want your cell phone," he said, walking in front of her and holding out his hand. She had been expecting that- it was already laying on the couch, next to her, in anticipation of it being taken. She quietly picked it up and placed in into his outstretched palm. He swiftly slipped it into his back pocket, then held out his hand again.

"And the rest of it." A tiny sigh escaped her, but she would have been lying to herself if she said she hadn't expected this too. She began unloading her arsenal. Her favorite silver .45, the backup .45, three full clips, the container of salt and salt bullets, the flask of holy water, the bottle of kerosene, the Zippo, the throwing knives, and even a small vial of dead man's blood. Dean couldn't help himself- his eyes widened as she kept pulling weapons out, impressed by her forethought. She saw this, and took it as a small sign of hope.

"At least I had everything I could have needed, right?" she asked in a small voice, looking up into his face. Unfortunately for her, this was one of those crapshoots where it would have been in her best interest to stay silent. Dean's eyes slid to her, and they widened in disbelief. Dammit dammit dammit, she thought, her insides freezing upon seeing the incredulous look on his face. After a moment of stunned silence, he roared so loud that she jumped, and almost fell off the sofa.

"THAT'S your opening line?!" he bellowed. "You just deliberately disobeyed me, snuck out of the house, almost got yourself killed, and that's what you open with?" He shook his head and looked away. "Unbelievable." He crossed over to the desk and unceremoniously dumped the load of weapons onto it. The resulting crash made Natalie jump again. He stormed back over to her.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he yelled. Natalie clenched her jaw as she felt the tears press against her eyes again. Dammit, she was NOT going to cry.

"What on earth could possibly have possessed you to think that this was even a remotely good idea? Huh? Answer me!" His voice was rising in volume so quickly, she didn't doubt for a second they had woken up every one in the nearby vicinity, possibly even in the next state over. She knew she was going to have to come up with an answer, and she was too tired and upset to even try to get herself out of trouble this time.

"I wasn't thinking," she said, quietly.

"You're damn right, you weren't!" he interjected, but then fell silent again.

"I...I was so mad from this afternoon, that...that it was like any shred of intelligence that I had left was just gone. I know now how stupid it was, and I know that doesn't excuse the fact that I still did it. I'm...I'm really sorry. I can't believe that I actually thought that I could handle this on my own, and I know now that I can't." She finally looked up at Dean, who was just standing there, listening to her apology. "Look, I deserve every punishment you're going to throw at me. But please know that I really do know now what an idiot I was, and I promise that I won't do it again."

A small part of Dean's brain almost fainted with relief- now HERE was his kid. This was Natalie, back to her senses. She had always been so eager to please him, so willing to do whatever he said, that any hint of disobedience from her felt like he was dealing with a Natalie Skin Walker- looking exactly like Natalie, but clearly not Natalie at all. Dean let that part of his brain win out, and the sheer anger that he had been wallowing in evaporated. He was still frustrated, still upset, but he had lost that red veil over his eyes. He knew that it had just been out of uncontrolled anger when he had sent her to her room this afternoon, causing her to snap and go out and do something reckless. It scared him, knowing how easily he could push her over the edge. He was determined to get that feeling under control.

He sat down next to her on the couch, dropping heavily into it. She didn't turn her head to look at him- she was still too busy trying to keep her traitorous tears in check.

"Good," he said. Natalie could hear the shift in his voice, and began to calm down a bit herself, which, of course made it harder to keep from crying. "I'm glad you finally get it." He turned sideways on the couch to face her. "Although I don't know if I can really hold you to the promise that you won't do it again. You are a Winchester, after all. Searching for trouble is kind of our thing," he said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. A tiny smile threatened to creep onto her face. He leaned back against the sofa arm.

"Alright. Walk me through it." Natalie turned her head, finally making eye contact with him. "What happened with the spirit? I want to know what you did, and what you learned tonight," he said. Natalie's eyes dropped back down to the rug. She took a deep breath.

"Well, I got there, and found the grave pretty much right off the bat. I made a salt ring around it, like I had planned, and dug up the grave. It took a lot longer than I thought it would."

Dean nodded. "Takes a lot longer by yourself, doesn't it." Natalie acknowledged the comment with a sigh- she totally deserved that one.

"Yes, sir," she said grimly. She sought her father's face again. He was still waiting on the rest of the story, apparently done with that particular point. She plunged ahead.

"So it was all going fine, guy burned up. I thought it was over. Then I stepped outside of the salt ring," she said, her tone growing bitter. Dean's eyes widened- this was what Sam had been alluding to. "And that's when she attacked me."

"She?" Dean questioned. Natalie's eyes turned to stone in her anger at herself.

"The Farmer's Wife," she said, spitting the words like they were venom. As the facts quickly knitted themselves together in Dean's brain, he rolled his head backwards.

"Oh. You've got to be kidding me," he said. She snorted.

"Yup. Wifey killed herself not long after Baker died. She turned into a poltergeist."

"And since she was trapped on the farm, it was the husband's spirit who kept moving the dead guys away from it," Dean said, putting it together. Natalie nodded.

"Yep. At least, that's what she told me," she said. Dean's temper spiked briefly at the idea of some stinking dead bitch monologing on his daughter, but he brushed past that, determined to hear the rest of the story.

"She said that she was luring victims to the scene of her husband's murder, and finishing them off to avenge his death. Her husband didn't want the bodies around- they reminded him too much of the ass that murdered him, so he drug the bodies off their property. She didn't really tell me much more than that- she was pissed that I had just released her husband back to the spirit world, and she started trying to kick my ass."

Dean's eyebrow arched. "Trying to?"

Natalie's eyes narrowed. She never was that good a liar. "Okay, she did kick my ass. She threw me across the barn, into the wall."

"Did you get hurt?" he asked.

"Nothing that won't heal," she said, using one of her uncle's favorite phrases. Dean nodded, and she continued speaking.

"I managed to dodge out of her way when she tried to grab me again, but then she did an about face and came flying at me, and I fell backwards. Every stinking exorcism I'd ever memorized just flew right out of my damn head. I was just so shocked I couldn't think. And that's when Uncle Sam came out of nowhere and plugged her." Her eyes shifted back to her father. "Guess I need to study those exorcisms a little harder, huh?"

Dean gave her his classic Dad face. "Yeah. And not go hunting by yourself, too. That's a kind of big one," he said sarcastically. She lowered her gaze yet again. "Come on, Natalie. What were you really thinking?" he pressed. "I know you're a hell of a lot smarter than this. Why are you so bound and determined to get yourself killed going solo?"

Natalie bit her tongue. She really hadn't told anyone, least of all, Dean, what was really going on in her head. She knew that he would eventually worm it out of her, but she still took a moment, choosing her words carefully. She really did want to get this off her mind if it was going to make her go crazy like she had today.

"You and Uncle Sam...you guys are like...the best super heroes ever. Always saving the day, rescuing the innocent. And I just want to help. I want to be on the team so bad, and I just wanted you to be able to trust me to handle this, because sometimes I don't feel like you do."

Dean sat up in surprise, and held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." His eyes narrowed. "You think I don't trust you? Is that what this all is about?" Natalie shrugged, indicating that he had hit the nail on the head. His mouth dropped open. He had thought this was just raging teenager hormones, or whatever it was that made kids her age go psycho. He had no idea that she thought he didn't trust her. He shook his head in frustration.

"Oh my god. Come here," he ordered. She looked up in surprise at his stern tone, and saw that he had stretched out his arms to her. Now it was her turn to be surprised. He hated chick flick moments, and even though he had just ordered her into his arms, there was something so...Oprah about the whole thing. She looked at him in stunned disbelief. He rolled his eyes at her reluctance. He reached over, grabbed her arms, and pulled her into his chest. He was so big and strong, and she was so small, that it took very little effort on his part to manhandle her like a child. However, Natalie discovered, to her shock, that she didn't mind feeling like a kid, not just now. He pulled her in tight, and rested his chin on the top of her head. He closed his eyes, just holding his baby girl for a moment. He gave her another squeeze, then held her away so he could look her directly in the face.

"Listen up," he said, taking her chin between his thumb and first finger, ensuring that she wasn't going to look away. Her green eyes widened. She was listening.
"I have used so many of your tactics and ideas battling these evil assholes, that it's not even funny. I let you clean and handle all of our weapons. You know just about every trick Sammy and I have got up our sleeves. Now, if that isn't the definition of someone I trust, then I don't know what is." He looked deep into her eyes and saw the acceptance of his words reflected in them. "However, next time you want to prove you're trustworthy, I would not suggest sneaking out of the house. Got it?"

She laughed quietly. "Yes, sir."

"And don't forget this- I do trust you. Always will. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said with a smile.

"Good. Now, about your punishment..." Natalie sighed, her face falling. She knew she had it coming, but that didn't make her exactly eager to hear what he had in store for her.

"I'm guessing I'm grounded until further notice?" she asked, resigned to her fate.

"To start with," he said cheerfully, with his sideways smirk. She deflated a bit further.

"I want you up and running at six a.m." Her mouth dropped open. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You got a problem with that?" he said, sternly. She snapped her mouth shut instantly.

"No, sir," she mumbled. He watched as her eyes sought the clock on Bobby's desk. Sure enough, it was two in the morning. She sighed again, but said nothing. Wise choice, kid, he thought.

"You better get to bed. If you're late getting up, I'll make you do all the household chores for the rest of the week, too," he threatened. She pushed herself off the couch, and trudged towards the stairs.

"I'm going to fall asleep doing a 5K tomorrow, aren't I?" she muttered. Dean just threw her another lopsided grin.

"You can run to the store and pick up coffee. Get me one while you're at it." She shook her head, but couldn't keep the grin from lips. She kept walking towards the stairs, when he called out again.

"Hey," he said. She stopped, turned, and saw him giving her his usual grin. She actually let her smile come out for once. She knew exactly what he was doing with that grin. It was their favorite Star Wars routine- their way of saying I love you, without ever actually saying the words.

"I know," she said. "You too."

He shrugged and smiled. "I know."

Thank you so much for reading! Hugs!