A striga. It was one of the many types of witches that existed. Witches triggered something in Robin. She knew before coming out that it was a witch, the type was unclear. Any chance she had to investigate one, she was going to take. She knew the chances were low she would ever see the one she was looking for, but she had to try. This one was feeding on kids, which wasn't unusual for a variety of types of witches, but probably couldn't be said of hers.

"Tom Willis" a voice came on the other end of the line.

"Joan Willis checking in sir".

"You idjit" her father's voice came across the line, "why would you pick the same last name"?

"I'm nineteen and posing as a federal agent. Posing like Daddy getting me the job was a good call".

He thought for a second, "fair enough. What've you got"?

"Striga" she replied, "Odds are damn good, this is not the witch I'm looking for".

"Sorry kiddo. You're staying aren't you"?

"Oh hell yeah" she snarled, "the pain in this community, it's palpable".

"Garth just got here an hour ago, I'll head out".

"Garth? What? No, you can't leave him with the switchboard, he's too green".

Bobby Singer had become a facilitator of sorts for hunters across the country. A case sometimes required deeper probing than the average joe was capable of doing, but a Federal agent? They can dig. A hunter can't always make the sale, and credentials get checked. Bobby Singer was the credentials. It required a finesse, confidence, and backbone that Garth did not possess.

"Besides" she added, "the Winchesters are here".

There was silence on the end of the line for a moment, "Is John there" he asked fearfully, or as fearful as Bobby Singer allowed?

"No, I'm fine" she replied, "It's the boys".

"Ok"

"Seems kind of personal for Dean".

"You say striga" Bobby asked?

"Yeah"

"It's personal" Bobby agreed. "You face this thing, long sleeves and your gloves, you got it"?

"Yes dad" she agreed, "not my first time".

"First time without me" he snapped. "And you don't have your typical get out of Jail free card".

"I have it" she corrected, "I'll just have to book it out of dodge if I use it".

He huffed on the other end of the line.

"I love you too dad" she said as she hung up the phone.

A striga would feed off the life essence of a person. Because of their innocence they prefer the taste of children. This asshole was going through families. It would attack one sibling, by the time that one was comatose, it would move on to the next. The hard part was witches are humanoid, so even if they did change forms, they would pick a form to blend in. Most witches were also immune to most weapons, strigas are said to be completely invulnerable to any form of weaponry.

"That's not true" Dean pointed out, "they're vulnerable when they feed".

The three had congregated in the boys motel room. Robin had just returned with some junk from the vending machine, and Sam was giving the rundown on what he'd found about the striga

"How do you know that" Sam asked?

"Dad told me, I remember" Dean replied.

"So, what like a boss in a video game, shields go down when the mouth opens and you can nail it" Robin asked? The two boys looked at her, a little puzzled. "Ok, you" she pointed at Dean, "I reject your judgement. And you" she pointed at Sam, " are a way bigger geek than I am. Shall we move on"?

"Essentially she's right" Dean agreed. "Round of consecrated wrought iron.

"Strigas also basically look like a dementor in their natural form" Robin added to Sam, "typically they take a human form to blend in".

"What the hell is a dementor" Dean asked?

"From Harry Potter" she shrugged.

"Is that a porno" Dean asked?

Robin looked at Sam, "Is he serious"?

"Sadly, he is" Sam shook his head.

"What kind of human form are we talking" Dean asked?

"Something innocuous" Sam explained, "often a feeble old woman. Probably where the whole witches as old crones thing came from".

"Check this out" Dean said placing a map on the table, "I've marked all the addresses of the victims here, check what's dead center of all the attacks".

"The hospital" Sam replied.

"The hospital" Dean nodded, "and I saw this old woman there".

"An old person huh" grinned Sam"?

"Yeah".

"Better call the coast guard".

"I saw her too" Robin added, "white eyes, looked like she could eat your soul"?

"Yeah" Dean agreed, "and get this smart ass " he said to Sam " she had an inverted cross on her wall".

The group went back to the hospital that night, but the lead turned out to be a bust. She was simply an old woman who felt neglected in the hospital.

By the time they got back to the motel it was morning, and something was wrong. The woman who ran the motel was rushing around frantically. Meanwhile her oldest son was slumped over on a bench looking worried.

"Oh no" Robin murmured as they got out of the car.

They soon learned, the younger son Asher had fallen sick over night. While they were off chasing a dead end, the Striga had hit right here. Dean took the mother to the hospital, while Sam and Robin went to the local library, to do some more digging. It seemed there was a pattern with this illness thing with kids. Every 15-20 years it would hit an area. One of these cases even overlapped with a case Dean had confirmed about seventeen years ago, where one got away from he and John. The scary part was it seemed to have been happening since the late 1800's. Sam called Dean to give him an update, as Robin continued to look at articles.

She did a double take on one in particular, "Sam are you seeing this"?

"What did she find" Dean asked?

"Picture of Hydecker" Sam replied.

"And" Dean asked?

"The article is from 1893".

Hydecker was a local doctor, more specifically the doctor who had been treating all the kids that had fallen sick. What's more, he was directly in front of Dean at that very moment.

The trio reunited at the Motel, "I can't believe you didn't draw on him right there" Sam commented.

"First, I'm not gonna open fire in a pediatric ward" Dean explained, "Secondly, the damn thing is bulletproof unless he's feeding".

"So we need to get him when he's feeding" Robin replied calmly.

"You're thinking the same thing I am aren't you" Dean asked her?

"I don't think we have a choice" she shrugged.

"You want to use the kid as bait" Sam demanded?!

"We know he's coming" Robin explained.

"No, one of us can stand in" Sam argued, "Robin, we could pass you off as a young boy".

"Excuse me" she snapped?!.

Dean scoffed, "No, we couldn't".

"Thank you".

"Sammy, we got one shot" he explained. "It has to be the kid. Dad did not send me here to walk away"

"He sent US here Dean" Sam argued.

"This isn't about you, Sam. I'm the one who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me". Dean let out a sigh, he realized that it was time to come clean. There was a lot more to the story than he shared.

Seventeen years ago, the Winchesters had crossed paths with this thing before. Dean would have been about eight, Sam was four or five. John was hunting the same striga, and had left the boys to fend for themselves in a motel room. Allowing Sam to stay a kid as long as possible, he forced Dean to basically become a child soldier. Dean was well versed in using a shot gun by this age and John had taught him his "shoot-first-ask-questions-later" philosophy, a philosophy that made the Singers quite nervous. After several days, Dean had gone stir crazy, and against his father's orders, left the room to get air. When he returned, he knew immediately that something was off. He opened the door to the bedroom to see the striga over Sam. He grabbed the shot gun, but being an eight year old he froze in fear. John fortunately came in and fired a few rounds of iron into the thing, but it got away. Everyone was fine, but John was furious with Dean.

"Dad just ... grabbed us and booked" Dean concluded, "Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas the striga had disappeared, it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. You know, Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask. But he...ah...he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen, I almost got you killed Sammy".

Robin's stomach was in knots. Somewhere over the years of utter resentment, she forgot Dean was human. And he was the same as her, a kid put in this life long before they ever should have known what goes bump in the night. But there was a shield she grew up with, Bobby tried to protect her. John instead tried to utilize Dean.

Sam broke the silence, saying exactly what Robin was thinking, "You were just a kid".

"Don't. Don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me" Dean replied in an eerily calm tone. "He sent me here to finish it".

A statement Robin could relate to all too well. As much as Sam thought what he said would offer comfort to him in his words, the only comfort he would find is taking this bastard down. "So let's finish it" Robin responded, stone cold, "You have us now, we can do this".

Dean gave a slight smile and nodded to her.

When they approached the boy, needless to say the boy was terrified. They didn't want to force this on Michael, that was the last thing they needed. But there was no plan B, and like it or not, that thing was coming for him, tonight. Dean tried to appeal to him, big brother to big brother, but this was too much for the kid, he rejected their requests for help.

"So, what do we do now" Robin asked, "stake out the place and hope we get there soon enough"?

"I still think we could try and ambush it with you posing as a kid" Sam shrugged.

"I hope you're supplying me with a lot of blankets Winchester" she snapped, "because I have a lot of curves that are going to poke a lot of holes in that plan".

"She's right" Dean agreed, "and he tends to go through families. He'd get Michael before he ever looked at Robin".

A knock came to the door. When they opened it, there stood Michael, doing his best to look braver than he felt.

"You're a big brother" he asked Dean?

Dean nodded.

"You'd take care of your little brother" Michael asked, "Do anything for him"?

"Yeah" replied Dean, "I would".

"Me too" he nodded, "I'll help".

The group set up surveillance in Michael's room, and gathered their weapons. When it got to the point where they needed to load their guns, Robin hesitated. She couldn't work with the iron, she knew this. She had to think quick. She clenched her fists and looked at the boys, "can one of you load my gun for me" she asked? "I gotta grab something". Sam nodded as she left the room. She grabbed her riding gloves from her saddlebag. They were leather and the finger tips were missing, but if something happened she had to reload, the gloves could protect her. She threw on a hoodie and returned.

"Were you cold" Sam asked?

"Nah" she replied sarcastically, "I'm looking to shed a few pounds, thought I could sweat em off". She sat down and grabbed her gun. There was some powder or residue from the iron on the barrel of her gun. She felt the burn on her finger tip, but bit her tongue.

"What's with the gloves" Dean asked?

"My hands are bugging me" she replied, "I want to bring my A game".

"Bugging you" he asked?

"I broke my hand in High School" she replied, "early onset arthritis".

The three sat for hours watching the monitor.

"Poor kid" Robin murmured, "I wish we could have done this without him knowing" she commented, "he's just sitting there waiting".

"It's for his own safety" Dean replied, "but you're right. Knowing how scared he is, it kills me".

She grinned, Careful Dean, people might think you have a heart".

He grinned back, "Don't tell anyone Specks".

They turned their attentions back to the monitor. It was about 3am when they noticed something at the window.

"You seeing this" Robin asked?

"We got company" Sam whispered. T

They had to wait until the striga was already attacking Michael or all of this would be for nothing, and all three were barely containing themselves. Finally when he was over Michael they kicked in the door.

"MICHAEL DOWN" Dean shouted. Michael rolled under his bed and Dean opened fire. The striga fell to the floor.

"Mike" Robin called, "are you ok bud"?

"I'm ok" he replied. "Can I come out now"?

"Just sit tight" Dean called back. Upon examination, the Striga looked beat.

Dean turned back to the others, letting his guard down. The striga rose, grabbed Dean by the throat and threw him against the wall. The striga attacked Sam next starting to feed on him, sucking out his life force. Robin rushed for her gun and fired. Her confidence was lost in the shot, she knew she had iron for ammo, she hesitated and only grazed the striga. The striga turned its attention to her. It grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground. It opened it's mouth to feed, but stopped. It looked at her confused for a moment and then threw her against a wall.

Robin hit her head, hard and fell to the ground. Her vision was blurring and all she saw was the striga go back to feeding on Sam before everything went black.

Her eyes weren't open yet, but her head was splitting. She heard the hum of a fridge and a faint conversation.

"Should we call him" she heard Sam whisper?

"And say what" Dean snapped, "Sorry Bobby, I let my guard down and your daughter is in a coma".

"Jesus Winchester" she groaned as she opened her eyes, "don't be so damn dramatic".

"Thank God" Dean sighed as the two made their way to her bedside.

"What happened" she asked? "Did we win"?

"Yeah we won" Sam smiled.

"Good" she nodded, "if this headache was for nothing, I might have to kill you".

"Do you need a tylenol" Sam offered?

"I need a horse tranquilizer" she smiled.

"I got the prescription stuff" Dean walked over and handed her two pills.

"My hero" she said as she arched an eyebrow.

"You need us to drive you somewhere" Dean asked? "Nah, gimme a couple hours" she replied, "I got my bike, I'll need to get it home. Besides, Sam told me you're heading East, I'm definitely headed West".

After a couple hours of rest, Robin was packing up her stuff to head back home.

"I never asked you" Dean started, "what brought you to this case"?

"I got my own unfinished business" she replied, "turns out, this one wasn't mine. But I'm glad we could handle yours".

"When you get the chance to wrap yours up" he replied, "you call, we'll be there".

"You're starting to grow on me Dean Winchester" she smiled.

"Don't worry" he nodded, "I won't tell anyone".

"How about me" Sam smiled?

"Everyone knows you're my favorite" she smiled and hugged the man who towered over a foot taller than her.

"Drive safe" Sam smiled.

" Take care Winchesters" she said as put on her helmet and started her bike.

She pulled into the salvage yard close to midnight. Her father came out on the balcony, "you idjit, you shouldn't be riding in the dark".

"I wanted to sleep in my own bed" she replied.

"So, the Winchesters again"?

"Yup".

"You're not interested in one of em are you" Bobby huffed?

"Why daddy" she replied in a southern belle accent, "wherever would I fit them on my dance card, with all those other gentlemen callers I have"?

"Jackass" he snapped.

"I don't have time for that shit dad" she replied, "and I respect myself too much for that".

"Well that part was meant for Dean" he replied.

"See dad, you can read me like a book" she smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"Those pins you wanted are on the table" he called after her as she walked in the house.

"Good night" she called back.

She made her way to her room with a pack of black push pins in hand. When she got there, she looked at a map of the United States. It already had over a hundred black pins in it. She placed a new one over the town in Wisconsin she had just left. She looked down at her desk where a pin cushion sat with one lone red push pin sat. She picked up the pin and looked at it for a second. Then back to the map, "Where are you, you bitch" she murmured?