SPOV

Dean and I had found a case involving a man who had choked on razor blades that were hidden in Halloween candy. If that didn't scream 'weird' then I don't know what did. We were in the victim's kitchen as Dean searched for anything that might help us, while I questioned the wife.

"Now how many razor blades did they find?"

Mrs Wallace held back tears as she stared blankly ahead. "Two on the floor, one in his stomach and one was stuck in his throat." Her voice cracked as she looked up at me. "He swallowed four of them. How is that even possible?"

Before I could answer, Dean made a noise as he looked in the over and on the stove.

Mrs Wallace turned to him. "The candy was never in the oven."

Closing the oven door, Dean straightened up before responding. "We just have to be thorough, Mrs. Wallace."

"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy?" I asked, getting back on track.

She shook her head. "No, I mean, I don't think so. I just... I can't believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?"

I let out a short sigh. "More than you might imagine."

Dean got to the ground in the corner behind Mrs Wallace- by the fridge. I couldn't see him until he stood again, turning to show me the hew bag he'd just found. Once he was sure I'd seen it, and that we knew what we were dealing with, he tucked it into his pocket.

"Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies?"

Mrs Wallace frowned at my question. "Enemies?"

"Anyone who might have held a grudge against him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Co-workers? Neighbors? Maybe a woman," I suggested.

Suddenly understanding what I was saying, she frowned, offended. "Are you suggesting an affair?"

"Is it possible?"

"No! No, Luke would never-"

"I'm very sorry. We just have to consider all possibilities." I could see how distressed she was. I understood how absurd the question must sound.

"If someone wanted to kill my husband, don't you think they'd find a better way than a razor in a piece of candy he might eat?"

Instead of answering, I looked over at Dean. She may have a point, but with witches, none of that mattered. The rules changed.

EPOV

I watched as Dean pulled Baby up, parking in one of the spaces by the gas station. Pushing off the wall, I adjusted the strap of my bag that hung over my shoulder as I headed over to him, smile plastered on my face.

Looking out the window at me, he looked slightly offended. "Boyfriend didn't want to come say hi?"

"He's on a job," I told him matter-of-factly, throwing my things in the backseat before I climbed into the front, sitting next to him.

"And you left him to deal with it on his own? Chose Sam and me over him?" Grinning smugly, he pulled out of the lot and on to the road.

I'd received a call from Sam yesterday asking if I wanted to help them out on this case they'd found. We both knew they could handle it by themselves, but we both also knew that the brothers missed me and I missed them. After talking about it with Tristan, we agreed that me hunting with the Winchesters every now and then wouldn't hurt us, and that's how I ended up sitting here, next to Dean.

Seeing the smug look on Dean face made me want to push him down a peg or two. "Tristan doesn't need my help. He's perfectly capable of handling it himself."

I wasn't stupid. I knew Dean didn't like the idea of Tristan. He'd always been protective over me. The fact I was now in a relationship with a hunter he'd never met, and knew nothing of, probably set him on edge. Bobby too.

But I trusted Tristan, we cared about each other, and there was nothing keeping us from being together. No matter what Dean and Bobby thought. No matter what anyone thought.

SPOV

I was sitting on the couch in the hotel room, going through some research, trying to figure out what we might be dealing with. When the door to the room opened, I looked up to see Lizzie and Dean walk in, the two of them snacking on candy.

I scoffed, looking mainly at Dean. "Really? After that guy choked down all those razor blades?"

Dean shrugged. "It's Halloween, man."

"Yeah, for us every day is Halloween," I noted.

Grinning widely, Lizzie dumped her bag by the table and hurried over to me. Jumping onto the couch, she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. "Mr Grumpy-pants, always spoiling the fun."

Chuckling lightly, I put an arm around her in half-hug as Dean came over to sit on the arm of the couch, gesturing to my laptop. "Anything interesting?"

Pulling away from Lizzie, I nodded. "Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure, but this isn't your typical hex bag." Reaching over, I opened the hex bag I'd put on the coffee table, showing them the three items that sat inside. Picking up the dried flower, I elaborated, "Goldthread, an herb that's been extinct for two hundred years. And this," I put the flower down and grabbed the coin, "is Celtic, and I don't mean some new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal. Like six hundred years old real."

While I'd been talking, I hadn't noticed Dean pick up the last piece. He was looking it over, smelling it, curious. Little did he know...

"And um," I nodded to the small charred object he held, "that is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby."

"Ugh." He quickly put it down, disgusted. "Gross."

I shrugged, lifting the bone to look it over. "Relax man, it's like, at least a hundred years old."

"Oh, right, like that makes it better? Witches, man, they're so friggin' skeevy." Shivering, Dean stood and moved over to sit on his bed.

"Skeevy or not, I've never dealt with this kind of stuff before." Lizzie grabbed the coin, fiddling with it. "It's gotta take a powerful witch to throw all this together."

"More juice than we've ever dealt with, that's for sure." I nodded, agreeing with her. I looked over at Dean. "What about you? Find anything on the victim?"

"This Luke Wallace?" Dean shook his head. "He was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy. I can't find any reason why somebody would want this guy dead."

DPOV

Sam, Liz and I walked down the stairs and into the crime scene in the basement. Some teens had been having a party, and one of the girls had drowned in a tub of water while bobbing for apples. But that wasn't it. The water had also boiled her...

We came to a stop, scanning the room. That's when my eyes landed on a girl talking to one of the cops.

Liz and Sam moved to join the questioning, but I put a hand out to stop them. "I got this one."

Sam scoffed. "Two words. Jail bait."

"I would never-"

Before I could go on, Liz gave me a pointed look. I mean, I wouldn't do anything with the girl, obviously. But I could think about it. I would think about it. I was thinking about it.

Liz knew me too well. I could tell she could practically see the thoughts going through my mind...

Shaking her head, she tapped Sam on the arm, the two of them walking off to go look around the scene for any signs of witches- like a hex bag, for instance. While they walked off, I moved over to the cop and girl.

"It's just so weird," she started, looking to the cop. "The water in the tub, it wasn't hot, I had just been in there myself."

"Your friend didn't happen to know a man named Luke Wallace?" As she and the cop turned to me, I showed them my badge. "Agent Seger, F.B.I."

Nodding, the cop left me with the girl so I could finish asking her some questions.

She looked at me, confused. "Um, who's Luke Wallace?"

"He died yesterday."

Movement behind her shoulder caught my attention as Liz bent over the couch, feeling around the cushions. I couldn't help but watch her. I didn't want to. I knew she had a boyfriend and that I should respect that. But I couldn't help how I felt about her. I was still attracted to her. Very attracted.

"I don't know who that is." The girl shook her head, answering my question.

Before I could ask anything else, Liz pulled back from the couch, holding up a hex bag for a moment and then shoving it into the pocket of her pants suit. But it had been long enough to see. The witch had been here too.

EPOV

I was sitting at the table with Dean, my feet on the table as I flicked through an old lore book. He was on the computer, searching the web, while Sam sat on his bed reading a book as well. So far, we hadn't come up with anything that might help us.

"I'm telling you, both these vics are squeaky clean. There is no reason for a wicked bitch payback." Dean sighed, pulling away from the computer.

"Maybe 'cause it's not about that."

Looking over at his brother, Dean shrugged. "Wow, insightful," he noted sarcastically.

The two of us frowned at Sam as he came over to us, carrying the book his was reading. "Maybe this witch isn't working the grudge, maybe they're working a spell. Check this out." He started reading, "'Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest.'" He handed Dean the book. "Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is-"

"October thirty first," I finished for him.

Reading the book that was now laid out in front of him, Dean asked, "What exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?"

"Uh, if I'm right, this witch is summoning a demon. And not just any demon. Samhain."

Dean looked up from the book and to his brother. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"The origin of Halloween comes from Samhain," I started. "The Celts believe that October thirty first was the one night of the year that the vail between the living and the dead was thinnest. It was Samhain's night. Masks were worn to hide from him. Sweets left out like sacrifices for him. Faces carved into pumpkins as a sort of worship tradition."

As I finished, I noticed Sam and Dean looking at me, impressed, confused, surprised... they were speechless, sitting there, Dean's jaw almost falling open.

"What?"

Shaking his head, Dean leaned back in his chair to turn to me a little more. "How do you know all of this?"

"Halloween is my favourite holiday." I shrugged, reaching over to grab one of the Twizzler's off the table.

"Anyway," Sam cleared his throat, "Samhain was exorcised centuries ago."

It took a moment before Dean turned back to his brother. "So even though Samhain took a trip downstairs, the tradition stuck."

Sam gave a short nod. "Exactly, only now instead of demons and blood orgies Halloween is all about kids, candy and costumes."

"Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?"

Rolling his eyes and sighing, Sam leaned back in the chair. "Dean, this is serious."

"I am serious," Dean insisted, but part of him was joking around. Part of him always was.

"We're talking heavyweight witchcraft. This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years," Sam noted.

"And the six-hundred-year marker rolls around…?"

Before Sam could answer Dean's question, I spoke up, "Let me guess... tomorrow night?"

Sam simply gave a short nod.

"Naturally." Shaking his head, Dean looked down at the book again, flipping to a new page. "Well it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon."

"That's because he likes company," Sam explained. "Once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own."

"Raising what, exactly?" Dean and I asked at the same time- which earnt me a small smirk from the eldest Winchester.

"Dark, evil crap and lots of it, I mean, they follow him around like the friggin' Pied Piper."

"So, we're talking ghosts?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"Zombies?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Leprechauns?"

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother again. "Dean-"

"Those little dudes are scary. Small hands." Dean lifted his hand and gave it a little shake. I couldn't help but give a light laugh.

"Look, it just starts with ghosts and ghouls, this sucker keeps on going, by night's end we are talking every awful thing we have ever seen. Everything we fight, all in one place."

That wasn't good. All joking aside, that had to be the worst thing that could happen. We didn't have enough strength and power to deal with something like that. We didn't even know enough hunters that could help control something like that. It would be war, and chances are... we'd lose.

Dean looked from Sam and I, thinking the same thing I was thinking. "It's gonna be a slaughterhouse."

DPOV

I sat in the car with Liz. Sam was back at the hotel going through some research. There wasn't much else Liz and I could do there, so we decided to go stake out Mrs Wallace's house, waiting to see if anyone that might have been at the party last night would show up here. All while snacking on the candy that was meant for trick-or-treaters.

"So..." I popped another candy into my mouth. "How's the boyfriend?"

"Great." Liz smiled, shifting to get a little more comfortable.

"He working on a case?"

"Yep."

"What kind of case?"

"I don't ask for details, Dean."

See, that's something I didn't understand. Liz trusting the guy, yeah okay I got that. But the fact he could be anywhere, doing anything right now... I did not like that. He could be sleeping around, cheating on her. He could be slacking off, not hunting at all. He could be doing God knows what. The possibilities were endless, and I didn't like any of them.

The sound of my phone ringing got my attention. Reaching over I grabbed and answered it, seeing the ID flashing Sam's name.

"Hey."

"How's it going?"

"Awesome, yeah. Liz and I talked with Mrs. Razor-Blade again." I looked out the window to the Wallace home. "We've been sitting out in front of her house for hours and got a big steamy pile of nothing."

"Look Dean, someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses. There's gotta be some connection."

"Yeah, well I hope we find 'em soon cause I'm starting to cramp like a-" I cut myself short as I saw someone walking down the street. "Son of a bitch." It was the girl from last night. Putting the phone down, I nudged Liz, gesturing across the street. "You seeing this?"

Liz looked over, spotting the girl in an instant. "Holy crap."

Sitting there, we watched as the girl walked to the front door of the Wallace home and knock. A moment later the door opened, Mrs Wallace standing there, smiling, holding her baby... which she handed to the girl.

Son of a bitch...

SPOV

I looked up at Dean and Lizzie as they entered the room, both clearly less than impressed. I was lying on my bed, on my laptop, having done some research on the girl from last night. Tracy.

"So, our apple-bobbing cheerleader?" I asked, wondering what they might have found out.

"Tracy?" Dean came over to sit on his bed while Lizzie moved to lie on the end of mine. "The Wallace's' babysitter," he explained. "Told me she never even heard of Luke Wallace."

"Huh, interesting look for a centuries-old witch."

"Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred-year-old hag and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn't you go for a hot cheerleader? I would, hmm…" Dean thought about it, his mind clearly going off track.

Lizzie sat up on her elbows and looked over at him. "You done?"

He grinned at her. "You jealous?"

"I'm taken. Remember?" She gave him a pointed look.

I hadn't met Tristan but I knew he made Lizzie happy, and that's all I really cared about. When Dean was gone, it had really hurt her. She hadn't been able to deal with it properly. So, when she told me about this guy she was starting to see, and how he was helping her, I felt no need to step in.

"Don't see your boyfriend here." Dean's grin stayed in place.

Rolling her eyes, Lizzie sat up more. "Just because we're together doesn't mean we have to be with each other twenty-four seven."

"But you should want to."

"I do want to."

"Does he?"

Seeing Lizzie flinch at Dean's question, I quickly sat up, hoping to get the conversation back on track. "Well, Tracy's not as wholesome as she looks. Did some digging... apparently she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers, got suspended from school."

DPOV

I walked into the high school art room, looking up at the masks that hung around the entrance. One in particular caught my attention. I couldn't tear my eyes away from its long mouth and dead eyes. I swear I could hear the echoing screams from hell surrounding me as the heavy weight of guilt and dread pressed on my chest and shoulder...

"Dean?" Liz's voice called to me as her hand rested on my shoulder.

Pulling my eyes from the mask, I looked down at the ground for a moment before turning to her. "Yeah... uh, yeah?"

"You okay?" she asked, looking up at me with genuine worry as if she'd caught me staring at the mask. As if she could read my mind and know what I was feeling.

As I searched her eyes, and she searched mine, I found myself stuck staring again. But this was for different reasons. The mask made me feel scared, guilty, so many horrible things that I'd never wish on anyone. Not even my enemies.

But Liz? She made me feel safe, welcome, needed, cared for. The way she looked up at me sometimes, it was like I actually mattered. As if me being in her life made it difference- in a good way. Just like her being in Sam's and my life made everything so much better.

"Bring back memories?"

The two of us jumped and turned to see Sam heading over to us, looking at the masks as well.

Clearing my throat, I stepped away from Liz slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Being a teenager, all that angst."

I let out a relieved sigh, thankful that he hadn't seen through me... not that he could, or would have any reason to think something was up.

Frowning slightly, he turned to me a little more. "What'd you think I meant?"

"Nothing," I answered quickly as I began to look around the room, seeing some kids working away. One in particular was putting a big bong-shaped piece into a kiln. "Now that brings back memories." I chuckled to myself.

"You three wanna talk to me?" a man asked as he walked into the room, with some papers in his hands and a coffee mug balanced on top of the decent sized box he held.

"Ah, Mr Harding." Sam nodded.

The guy scoffed lightly. "Oh, please, Don," he insisted, reaching for Sam's hand, which he shook. "Even my students call me Don," he informed us as he reached for my hand next.

"Yeah, we get it, Don," I mumbled to him as he shook Liz's hand before moving to his desk. Pulling out our badges as we followed, I introduced us, "I'm agent Getty, this is Agents Lee and Young. We just had a few questions about, uh, Tracy Davis."

Having put everything down on the desk, Don turned his full attention to the three of us. "Uh, yeah, Tracy, uh, bright kid, loads of talent. It's a shame she got suspended."

"Uh, you two had a… uh, violent altercation," I noted.

"Yeah, she exploded. If Principal Murrow hadn't walked by when he did, Tracy would have clawed my eyes out."

Sam frowned. "Why?"

"I, uh, you know, I was only trying to rap with her about her work. It had gotten inappropriate and disturbing."

I turned, gesturing to the mask I'd been looking at before. "More disturbing, than, uh, those guys?"

"She would cover page after page with these bizarre cryptic symbols, and then there were the drawings," Don explained. "Detailed images of killings, gory, primitive, and she would depict herself in the middle of them, participating."

"Symbols, what kind of symbols? Uh, anything like this?" Sam pulled a coin out of his pocket, the one that had been in one of the hex bags we'd found.

Don took a quick look before nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I think that might have been one of them."

"You know where Tracy is now?" I asked.

"I would imagine her apartment." He shrugged.

"Her apartment?" Liz and I asked at the same time, both confused. I couldn't help but grin slightly at the fact we'd- once again- said the same thing at the same time like that.

"Yeah," Done started, hands now in his pockets, "she got here about a year ago, alone, as I understood it, as an emancipated teen. God only knows what her parents were like."

EPOV

Dean pulled up at the hotel, getting out of Baby as Sam and I headed over to him. The three of us had split up in the hopes of finding Tracy. We all knew the urgency of the matter. Today was Halloween. Today was the day she'd be trying to raise Samhain. Our time was running out, and there were thousands, millions, billions, of lived on the line.

"So?" Dean asked us, closing his door.

I sighed. "Mrs Wallace said Tracy won't be back until next week."

Sam shook his head. "Tracy was nowhere I could find. Any luck with her friends?"

"Nah, luck is not our style. Her friends don't know where she is. It's like the bitch popped a broomstick," Dean noted as the three of us started for the hotel room, a kid dressed as an astronaut headed out way.

"She could be making the third sacrifice any time."

Dean shot his brother an annoyed glare. "Yes, thank you Sam."

The kid suddenly came to a stop then, in front of us, lifting his bucket of candy. "Trick or treat."

Dean looked down at him. "This is a motel."

"So?"

"So, we don't have any candy."

Sam looked confused, turning to gesture to Baby. "No, we have a ton in the-"

Dean cut him off, "We did, but it's gone."

The two shared a look as I tried not to laugh. I'd warned Dean not to eat all the candy. I'd told him to go buy more. I told him something like this would happen. He didn't listen, of course. He insisted that no kid would come up and ask us. That it had never happened before. Yet here we were, just like I'd said we would be.

Turning back to the kid, Dean shrugged. "Sorry kid, we can't help ya."

"I want candy."

"Well, I think you've had enough," Dean told him, earning an elbow to the rip from me and a glare form the kid.

Sam walked to the room as Dean and I stood there looking down at the kid glare daggers at Dean, clearly pissed. It took a moment before he walked off, without another word. We turned and watched him go, moving to the door of the next room.

"I don't want to hear, 'I told you so'," Dean warned without looking to me.

A grin played on the corner of my lips as I stayed quiet. There was no need for me to say anything when he knew I was right and he was wrong that's all that mattered.

"Who are you?!" Sam yelled from inside our hotel room.

Dean and I turned in and instant, rushing for the room. We found Sam standing there, gun raised, aimed to the back of Castiel's head as he sat on Dean's bed, facing the window where another man stood- a man I gathered was another angel.

"Sam!" Dean hurried to stop his brother from shooting Castiel. "Sam, wait! It's Castiel. The angel." Looking over at the other guy he added, "Him, I don't know."

Sam was stunned, looking at Castiel who stood and came to stand in front of him. "Hello, Sam."

"Oh my God-" The stunned look on his face turned to shame and guilt as he realised what he'd just said. "Er… uh… I didn't mean to- sorry. It's an honour, really, I- I've heard a lot about you." Stepping forward, smiling widely, he offered Castiel his hand to shake.

Castiel looked down at the hand for a moment, as if unsure what to do with it, before he reached forward and took it. "And I, you. Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood." Both Sam and I flinched at that. "Glad to see you've ceased your extracurricular activities."

"Let's keep it that way," the guy at the window muttered.

"Yeah, okay, chuckles." Dean rolled his eyes, looking to Castiel. "Who's your friend?"

Instead of answering the question, Castiel asked his own. "This the raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?"

"Why?"

"Dean, have you located the witch?"

"Yes, we've located the witch."

"And is the witch dead?"

"No, but-"

Dean finished Sam's sentence, "We know who it is."

I was hanging back, by the door. I always got the impression Castiel didn't think much of me. I mean, Sam and I were both using our power, but he only cared about Sam. He never mentioned the fact I had demon blood in me. In fact, he didn't do much when it came to me. It was like if I wasn't there, it wouldn't matter.

Walking over to the bedside table between the beds, Castiel lifted something from it. "Apparently the witch knows who you are too." He showed us the hex bag. "This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn't found it, surely one or all of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?"

After a moment where Dean, Sam and I shared a look, Dean turned back to the angel. "We're working on it," he assured him.

Castiel sighed. "That's unfortunate."

"What do you care?"

"The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals."

"So, this is about your buddy Lucifer."

"Lucifer is no friend of ours." The guy at the window sounded genuinely offended.

"It's just an expression," Dean explained.

"Lucifer cannot rise," Castiel noted. "The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs."

"Okay, great, well now that you're here, why don't you tell us where the witch is, we'll gank her and everybody goes home."

"We are not omniscient. This witch is very powerful, she's cloaked even our methods."

"Okay, well we already know who she is, so if we work together-" Sam started to suggest, only to be cut short by the guy at the window.

"Enough of this."

The fact this guy wasn't offering any real help, and was annoying the hell out of us, pissed Dean off. "Okay, who are you and why should I care?" he snapped, causing the guy to turn and look to us.

"This is Uriel," Castiel answered for him. "He's what you might call a… specialist."

Watching as Uriel walked over to us, Dean frowned, curious and suspicious. "What kind of specialist? What are you gonna do?"

Once again, Castiel avoided the question. "You, all of you, you need to leave this town immediately."

"Why?" Dean asked. I could tell by the look on Sam's face that he was thinking the same thing, and so was I. It didn't sound too good...

"Because we're about to destroy it," Castiel answered so simply, it was like a slap to the face.

Bamby