Hello Beautiful SPN Family! Happy Tuesday to you!

I hope you're all well- kinda stressed out at work here, so I'm just trying to dive into these stories to help pretend it's all not real, Ha Ha! Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Thank you to all who read and especially review- you guys just mean the world to me. It melts my heart and makes me a little more brave every time you all choose to read my work, and I can't even tell you how much I appreciate it.

Biggest thanks to Jenmm31- with her, I'd be dead in the water. Go show her some love and check out her amazing stories. All of them. Seriously, read them all. They're fantastic! Thanks Sammy, for saving my bacon again.

Okay, you know the drill! Read, review, and ENJOY!

A/N- in this story, Natalie is 19. Please see profile page for disclaimer.

It was a typical Wednesday evening, going on about a half hour past nine. Well, typical for a Winchester, anyway. Sam was sitting on his bed in their dingy motel room, scouring the Internet for new cases. There was an interesting one in Missouri, about a slew of people who had randomly dropped dead without so much as a how-do-you-do. There had been nothing in the coroner's reports to indicate why. No signs of foul play, no lingering illnesses, nothing. These people were simply found in perfect health, except they were...well...dead. It was intriguing enough that Sam was ready to present it to Natalie and Dean as soon as they got back from their supplies run. Natalie was still only nineteen, so she couldn't buy the beer, but Sam knew if he sent her to the store with his brother, chances are, they would come back with at least some kind of food that would not eventually give them either a heart attack or diabetes- or both. They had been gone for about an hour, but Sam wasn't worried. They were both more than capable of handling themselves in any given situation.

Just then, as if in response to his thoughts, Sam saw the headlights of the Impala flash through the window. He didn't bother getting up; he was still too absorbed in the article he had found. However, as he heard the car doors open, Natalie and Dean's raised voices carrying through the motel room door pulled his gaze away from the laptop. Raised voices from the two of them? They almost never fought, so it was extremely odd to hear them going at it now. Sam sat up a bit, straining to hear what they were saying through the barrier of the motel walls.

"...there was no other way!" Natalie hollered loudly.

"Sh! Keep your voice down! Do you want to wake up the whole friggin' motel?!" Dean scolded. Sam's brow furrowed- since when was Dean worried about being quiet?

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just freaked out," he heard Natalie say. Sam's whole body tensed up at her words. If something had spooked Natalie, that was never a good sign. She had been to hell and back with the two of them. What could possibly have freaked her?

"I know. But listen to me- we'll fix this, alright?" Dean was saying.

"If it wasn't for that stupid orange ball, none of this would have happened."

"Well, it did. And we're just going to have to deal with this now. Look, kiddo- you made the right call on this."

Sam heard Natalie snort. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I know everything."

"Har har." Natalie broke off suddenly. Sam heard her shuffle her feet. "There was just so much blood. And it was just…everywhere."

"Well, that's going to happen in situations like this. Just be glad it wasn't yours. That poor damn cow, though..."

"Right?" There was another awkward pause in the conversation as Sam tried to play catch up in his head. They had just gone out for food and beer- now they were talking about a massive amount of cow's blood-what the hell had happened?

"Should we tell Uncle Sam?" he heard Natalie whisper.

"Oh, god, no," Dean said immediately. "Look. We've got enough going on without involving him in this."

"But he can help us."

"I said, no. We don't need to drag him down with us. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Natalie capitulated quietly. But Sam wasn't so easily swayed. Whatever it was that the two of them had gotten into, he was going to help. They were family- they were all he had. However, he knew that Dean would be pissed and shut down if he found out that Sam had been eavesdropping. He knew his best bet was to play it cool, and try to get to Natalie later. He could probably get her to spill her guts. He leaned back against the headboard of his bed, trying to appear casual. He heard the lock on the door click, and his eyes dropped back down to his laptop. When the door opened, he looked up, wanting to make it look like he hadn't noticed until this moment that they were back. From their conversation, he had expected one or both of them to be covered in blood, but they were both spotlessly clean- no signs of anything on them at all. He tried not to let his surprise show on his face.

"Hey," he said nonchalantly.

"Hey!" they both barked in unison, clearly tense, almost jumping out of their skins when they saw him. Sam's eyes widened as he watched them awkwardly shift away from each other.

"You seem surprised to see me," Sam said with an attempt at a joking smile.

"I, uh...I just thought that you'd, you know, be asleep by now," Dean said, shifting his feet and avoiding eye contact.

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "It's nine thirty."

"Oh, uh...yeah. Feels later. Must be the different time zone," Dean said lamely. He made a beeline for their cooler, and Natalie dropped the food bags on the table, not making eye contact with Sam.

"I'm going to go shower!" she announced loudly. "Like a normal person!" she added. Sam saw Dean throw her a seriously?! look, which she returned with a what do you want me to say?! shrug. She slammed the bathroom door, but then five seconds later, yanked it open again. "Forgot my clothes!" she said, again, much louder than she needed to. When she disappeared into the bathroom again, Sam let his gaze wander to his brother. Dean was still staring at the bathroom door, but upon catching Sam's eye, quickly turned his back and resumed crushing beer bottles into the ice in the cooler.

"Everything...okay?" Sam asked calmly, waiting for Dean to just spill whatever it was that was going on.

"Yup! Yeah! Everything's peachy! How are you?" Dean said, not turning around.

"O...kay?" Sam said, questioningly. He walked over to Dean, who suddenly turned around, his fists at the ready, like Sam was about to attack.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa- what the hell are you doing?!" Dean thundered at Sam, who jumped back in surprise, holding his hands up.

"I was just going for a beer! Geez, what's wrong with you?" Sam thundered back. Dean froze for another split second, and then shook his arms like he was shaking off a bad feeling.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong." He sniffed, and dug his hand into the cooler, and came up with a bottle. "Hey," he said. He tossed the bottle towards Sam, eying him warily. "Heads up," he said in a tight voice.

Sam effortlessly caught the bottle Dean had tossed at him. "Why did you do that? Now I have to wait for the carbonation to go down before I can open it!" he said, annoyed. Dean wasn't paying attention though. He sighed in relief upon seeing Sam catch the bottle. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah, I'm uh, I'm sorry about that. Don't know what I was thinking," he said gruffly. He plucked the bottle from Sam's hand, then handed him another bottle that hadn't been shaken up. "So," he said, trying to clear the awkward moment. "Did you find anything good? Any good cases for us?"

Sam just stared at Dean, still trying to figure out what the hell was happening. He suddenly remembered the article. "Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I think I found something. There's this town in Missouri..."Sam began. Dean was just nodding, casually walking over towards the bathroom, nodding his head at Sam, pretending like he was listening. Sam tried to ignore it, continuing to fill Dean in on the details of the case, but he couldn't miss Dean leaning up against the bathroom door, and subtly knocking on it behind him, all the while, nodding like Sam was giving a life-affirming testimonial. The bathroom door opened cautiously, and Sam saw Natalie peek out at him. Dean slowly twisted his head back towards her, and Sam heard him mutter "uh-huh" to her, like an all clear.

Sam stopped speaking. He had no idea what to make of the entire exchange. He locked eyes with his niece, and said the only thing he could think of.

"I thought you were showering?"

"Oh, um yeah!" she said suddenly, jumping at his words. "I...err...forgot." She quickly pulled the door shut. Sam heard the water start up. Dean walked back to him.

"So- a town in Missouri, huh?" Dean said, cracking open his beer. Sam just stared. What the hell was going on with these two?

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Sam was just getting out of the shower. After Natalie had emerged from the bathroom last night, there had been no other awkwardness, no strange movements or randomness from either of them. It had just been business as usual, so Sam was starting to let it go. He pulled on a clean undershirt and buttoned up his favorite orange flannel over top. He shook his long hair out of his eyes, brushing it away from his face. When he pushed the bathroom door open, he caught sight of Natalie feverishly typing away at her laptop, which was sitting open at the table in the room. Dean was leaning over her, staring intently at the screen. Sam quietly shut the door again, but left it cracked open so he could hear what they were saying.

"Come on, kid, if anyone can find it, it's you."

"I don't know, Dad. This is way bigger than anything I've ever tried to hunt down before. I'm scared."

"Stay focused- you'll find it." Sam heard Dean shift his footing in the shag carpeting. It sounded like he was now pacing behind Natalie.

"Did you try looking for ectoplasmic sludge?"

"Yeah, but that's got no connection to the orange ball, and that's kind of important."

"Maybe it's not going to have a direct connection."

"Then tell me what all the acidic mist was about."

"Look, I don't know, alright? Just keep searching."

"Look at this! I think I found something!" At that declaration, Sam pushed open the bathroom door, unable to contain himself any longer. Both father and daughter's eyes shot to him. Dean straightened up quickly and turned to Natalie.

"And that's something you need to be studying. It's very important to know...that," he said loudly, pointing to the computer. Sam walked slowly out of the bathroom, his eyes darting between Dean and Natalie.

"What are you studying, Bug?" he said casually. Natalie froze at his words, her eyes going wide. She was clearly trying to make up an answer, but instead, opted for the truth.

"Oils," she finally squeaked out.

"Oils?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Oils. For...oiling things."

"Oiling things."

She nodded vigorously. Sam shook his head- she was horrible at lying, and she knew that HE always knew when she wasn't telling the truth. He walked over to her, and she began shifting nervously in her chair. Sam leaned down to see what website she was on, and sure enough, it was for oils. For Holy Oils. He gave a quick scan of the cover page, and was caught up short by some of the contents.

"These are oils for witch hunts," he said, starting back in alarm. Natalie's eyes shot to Dean, imploring him to help her out.

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah. I just figured, you know..." he trailed off.

"Figured what?" Sam asked, now annoyed at the levels they were going to to keep whatever this was from him.

"Figured that...she should know...that."

"Oils for Witch Hunts."

"Yup."

"Dean, you know as well as I do that witches are mortal- holy oil doesn't work on them. This website is total crap."

"Yeah, well, things change, Sammy," Dean growled, looking away. Sam jumped on that immediately.

"Things? What things?" Dean froze again, but resumed his casual demeanor almost immediately.

"Things like...we need to stay here for another day. Things like that."

"Another day, Dean? Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Yeah, you're going to have to do better than that." Sam said forcefully. Dean pursed his lips

"Because..." he began again, stammering as he searched for an answer.

"Laundry!" Natalie suddenly piped up from her chair. Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Because laundry." He picked up the duffle where they kept their dirty clothes, and stalked towards the motel room door.

"I'll help you!" Natalie said, jumping up and almost knocking her chair over in her haste. Both of them scurried out the door like there were rabid dogs on their tails. Sam was left alone again, still trying to figure out what was going on. Okay- so Dean had Natalie looking for Holy Oils- for witches. So it was pretty safe to assume that witches were involved in whatever they had run into last night. Maybe they had run into a coven at the convenient store? Sam shrugged- not the weirdest encounter that they had ever had. But Natalie kept mentioning an orange ball. Sam wracked his brains, but couldn't come up with any lore or stories that involved an orange ball. Maybe it was some sort of cursed object? He pulled the chair away from the table and sat down, quickly minimizing the website on Natalie's laptop, and opened a new search engine. He typed in "Cursed Orange Balls". He immediately regretted his choice of words. He slammed the laptop shut in disgust when the search engine yielded its rather graphic results. This was going to get him nowhere. He slipped silently out of the room, and made his way towards the motel laundry facility. He knew this stupid laundry excuse was yet another lie, and was willing to bet they were discussing their options regarding whatever it was they were facing. He tried to push down the hurt and rejected feelings about them not including him in whatever problem this was. They were a team- a family- and they always had been. What was so bad about this case that they were deliberately keeping him in the dark?

Sam snuck up towards the window of the small concrete block laundry room. They had turned all the washers on in the room, even though there had barely been enough laundry between the three of them to fill one machine. Luckily for him, Dean and Natalie seemed to be standing relatively close to the window he was crouching under. He strained to pick up their words over the thrum of the machines.

"...it's going to be okay. I went through Dad's old journal, and I found a ritual. I think we can get rid of it tonight."

"Tonight? Are you sure?"

Dean sighed heavily. "Well, to be completely honest, no, I'm not sure. But it's the best bet we've got. The journal said it would work best if we were at a big open area."

"There's a high school about two blocks west- they've got a football field. We can do it there. What time?"

"Midnight."

"Of course. The witching hour."

"Did you get a chance to catch anything else on that website before Sam interrupted you?"

Sam peeked over the edge of the window cautiously. Natalie was shaking her head. Sam slumped back down under the window, determined to remain hidden.

"I'll go over it again today. Can you keep him distracted for a while?"

"Sure thing. I'll figure something out."

"Thanks. I really think that the oils are going to be enough to take out the light source, but I'm still not sure how to conquer the hell cat."

"Yeah- that is one nasty little fluff ball."

Neither one of them spoke for a moment as Sam's mind spun out. Light source? And hell CAT? He had never even heard of such a thing before. Before he could formulate any theories, Natalie piped up again.

"How are we going to keep Uncle Sam from following us tonight? I mean, he has to know that something's up by now."

Sam heard Dean give an annoyed sigh. "Yeah, of course he does. Look, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But he absolutely cannot know about this."

"I know. It's just..."

"What?" There was another awkward pause, and then Sam heard Natalie sniff. He slowly peeked around the edge of the window again, and couldn't believe what he was seeing. Natalie- the kid who hated to cry- was sobbing. Real tears were streaming down her face. She immediately started batting them away like she always did.

"Dammit!" she hissed, angry at herself. Dean reached out and grabbed her arms.

"Hey," he said firmly. "It's okay. You're allowed to be upset, you know that, right?" he asked, more gently.

"Dad..."

"Don't. Don't let this thing get in your head."

"How am I supposed to do that? I mean- this- this is the Big One." Dean nodded, but tightened his grip on her arms.

"I know. But we're in this together. It's going to be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you or Sam, understand?"

"What about you? What if something happens to you?"

"Nothing's going to happen to me. Don't worry about that." He pulled her into his chest, and held her as she continued to cry. Sam turned around and slid down the wall, thunderstruck. He didn't know what to think- he had no thoughts left. Something was after the two of them, and he didn't have a clue as to how to begin to help. The fear, the uncertainty he was feeling- this was awful. He had to figure out something, had to crack this case before tonight. Before he could even come up with a brain wave, he heard Natalie walk out of the room. He slunk down, afraid that she would turn and see him crouching down under the window, but she just walked straight towards the room with her head down. Sam looked through the window again. Dean was facing away from the window, his hands resting on the washing machine, his head drooped.

Sam couldn't take it anymore. He pulled himself to his feet, and marched into the laundry room. Dean looked up in surprise at the sudden intrusion, then pulled himself upright, and put on his famous everything's fine face. Sam wasn't having it- not right now. This hiding, the keeping secrets- it all had to stop.

"Alright, Dean. Tell me what's going on," Sam ordered.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Dean said with a stoic shrug.

Sam shook his head, irritated. "No. Don't give me that bull. You know damn well what I'm talking about." Dean just pursed his lips and looked away.

"What happened? What is it that you two are hiding from me? What's after you?" Sam pressed.

"You been spying on us?" Dean asked, a touch of warning in his voice.

"You two haven't exactly been subtle about this whole thing. And you know damn well that I always know when Natalie's lying to me. Now I'm not going to ask you again."

"Good."

"No...Dean, that's not what I meant!"

"Well, Sammy, I'm not talking."

"What do you mean 'you're not talking'?"

"I mean I'm not talking. You need to stay away on this one."

"Why?"

"Can't tell you."

"Come on, Dean, I can help!"

"Forget it."

"Dean, look, if Natalie's actually scared enough to cry over this, then you know as well as I do how big this is. Let me help. Please."

Dean looked Sam full in the face for a minute, then hung his head with a sigh. "Look, Sammy..."

"Dean..." Sam interrupted, his own voice full of warning. Dean just put up a hand.

"Just let me get through this, okay?" Dean looked back at Sam, waiting for him to acquiest. Sam took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Look, I know you want to help. Hell, I know how much this is killing you to not know. But you're not getting involved in this. Natalie and I can do this, and believe me when I say, it's better if you're not involved." Dean broke off, and suddenly stepped closer to Sam. Sam looked into his brother's pleading green eyes. "Sammy, it's hard enough that Natalie's caught in this. Don't you get caught in this too. Please. I'm begging you. Stay away. Stay far away on this one." Sam's heart stopped. He felt completely torn. On the one hand, the idea of letting Dean and Natalie face whatever this was without more backup was completely unacceptable. On the other hand, he knew that if he showed up at the football field at midnight, and Dean saw him, that Dean would lose focus, trying to save both him and his daughter, and put himself in even more danger. Devoid of thought, the empty pit of nothingness gripping his chest, Sam couldn't do any more than simply nod at Dean. Dean sighed in relief.

"Thank you. Look, we're going to be alright. One way or another, we're all going to be alright. You just need to trust me on this one."

*SPN SPN SPN*

That night, at 11:50, Sam had been pretending to be asleep. He heard Natalie and Dean quietly slip out of the room. His heart seemed to throb harder in terror. He knew he had promised Dean that he wouldn't follow him, but this was just too much. With Natalie's life on the line as well, the situation took on a whole new level of anxiety for him. Without another thought, he bolted out of bed, and threw on his clothes as fast as he could. He grabbed every weapon within reach that he could stuff in his jacket, and he stalked out of the room.

He made sure to sneak around the block the long way, so that Dean and Natalie wouldn't see him following them. He made it to the football field, right as his watch switched to midnight. He took a deep breath and ducked to the side, hiding in the entrance to the football players' locker rooms. His eyes scanned the field for the orange ball, the witch, the cat, or whatever the hell it was that was after them.

The midnight breeze was blowing gently, trying to cool his agitated mind. There was the usual hum of crickets, the occasional sound of a sprinkler from a nearby lawn, but there was absolutely no movement on the football field. He didn't see his brother or his niece. His wristwatch ticked away the agonizing seconds.

Finally, about ten minutes later, he couldn't take it. He slowly walked out onto the dark field, his eyes scanning madly, just waiting to draw a weapon at the first sign of movement. Suddenly, he heard a rustling behind him- right behind him. Before he could turn, he felt a sticky, gooey substance plaster the back of his neck. He yelled, and began clawing away at it, thinking that it was the acidic mist that they had talked about. He turned to see what was attacking him, and got a face full of the stuff. He wildly flailed, trying to wipe his face clean of the goo. He heard wild, demonic laughter echo through the arena. He pulled his hands away from his face, and looked down at the substance. It was...it was...

Silly String?

Sam stared at his hands for a moment, unable to comprehend why he was covered in Silly String. All of the sudden, the laughter doubled and became louder, and it suddenly registered with him. He knew that laugh. He knew both those laughs.

"Awww, man, Sammy! Right into our trap!" Dean hee-hawed, spitting out the words in between peals of laughter. Natalie was doubled over herself, the can of Silly String at her feet where she dropped it when she couldn't contain her laughter any longer. Sam just blinked at the two of them.

"See?" Dean said, turning to Natalie. "I told you it would work!" He grinned triumphantly, and pumped his fist into the air, letting out a rebel yell.

"I still can't believe he fell for it! The witch and the cow's blood and the hell cat...that was the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard!" Natalie gasped, still trying to catch her breath.

"Wait, wait..." Sam said, still frozen to the spot, the silly string dripping off his hands and face.

"Yes?" Natalie said primly, standing upright, with a perfect look of innocence. Dean just looked thrilled.

"This was just...a prank?" Sam said, unable to really wrap his mind around the moment.

"Okay, million dollar question here- did you try researching 'Cursed Orange Balls'?" Dean asked. He and Natalie both looked intently at him, waiting for the answer. Still unable to really form a complete sentence, Sam nodded mutely. Dean threw his head back and blurted out one short laugh. Natalie groaned.

"Pay up, kid!" Dean barked with joy. Natalie rolled her eyes and slapped a bill into her father's outstretched hand.

"What?" Sam said, the moment slowly beginning to catch up with him.

"I bet her twenty bucks that you'd try searching that. Disgusting, isn't it?" Dean chortled. Natalie was still shaking her head, but she was still giggling too. Sam's mouth dropped open as the depth of this prank dawned on him. These two idiots had really done their homework.

Dean turned back to Natalie. "I have to hand it to you though, kiddo. Pulling out the REAL waterworks? Priceless."

"Just call me Meryl Freakin' Streep," Natalie agreed, the glee running rampant in her voice. Dean just shook his head, still howling with laughter, impressed at the levels she had gone to.

"Wait- how did you know I'd see you crying? How did you even know I'd be watching you two in the laundry room?" Both father and daughter swung around simultaneously, incredulous looks on their faces.

"Seriously?" they said in tandem. Sam's bitch face molded into place. Apparently, his actions were a bit more predictable than he thought.

"So all of that- the witches, the oils, the mist, the blood- it was all just...a prank?" Sam said, his voice growing louder, the terror of the moment draining away, only to be replaced by annoyance, bitchiness, and a deep urge to laugh.

"Not just any prank, Sammy."

"The Big One!" Natalie said delightedly. Sam looked back and forth as father and daughter high fived in perfect unison, not even needing to look at each other. Sam slowly shook his head, a crazy grin spreading on his face.

"You are both so dead!" he shouted.

"Run! Save yourself!" Dean called out to Natalie, who took off running, madly laughing, as Sam football tackled Dean to the ground.