Harvelle Supernatural

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural


Chapter 18: I Believe the Children Are Our Future

Skylar's POV

Cheryl and I were in the living room watching a movie off of Netflix. Things became hard since Amber decided to take online courses and live at home in Alliance, Nebraska. Our golden-trio had become the dueling duo. At first, Cheryl and I tried to have fun at the parties… except it doesn't feel the same without Amber.

Now Cheryl and I have become movie fanatics. Every other day we would spend the night after studying to watch a film or binge-watching a TV. You be surprised how Law&Order SVU captures you. And then we rented movies watching Taken, The Dark Knight, and The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, which Cheryl admits she had a crush on Ben Barns. Mama Mia, City of Ember, oh and let's not forget Twilight. The book is better than the movie, sadly.

Although, yesterday movie night I was scratching my head like crazy. Cheryl had to put out a chair, comb, and leftover chopstick examining my hair. She suspected lice, however there was no lice or eggs. Cheryl guessed it was from a dry scalp or an allergic reaction to a hair product. So, she lends me some Head n' Shoulders and that did the trick. Let me tell you, getting lice check while watching Cujo wasn't fun.

Tonight, we were watching Quantum of Solace after Casino Royale. You could say we're having a James Bond marathon. What can I say, I'm into 007. I mean, who's not into Daniel Craig. We were in the opera scene when there was a knock on the door. Pausing the film, Cheryl got up to answer the door greeting whoever it was.

Cheryl came back with a counselor. Mrs. Anderson came in. I got up, wondering why one of the college councilors would be here on a Saturday. She took a seat on the chair with a grave look. Her face saddens as if having some terrible news.

"Mrs. Anderson, is something wrong?" I asked.

"You girls have been close to Miss Amber Greer?" Mrs. Anderson asked.

"Yeah, she's like a sister," Cheryl answered, taking a seat next to me.

"Is something wrong with Amber?" I asked.

Mrs. Anderson took a deep breath, "Amber passed away yesterday."

"What?" Cheryl gasped in shock. "How?"

"It is unclear, but from what her parents have told us, it was head trauma." Mrs. Anderson answered.

"Now, Amber's parents have invited you all to the funeral, and it shall be in three days. Now the college wanted to give their sincere condolences and give you girls an excused absence. If you need a counselor, we're always available."

Cheryl and I nodded, comprehending what Mrs. Anderson just said. Mrs. Anderson left her card in case we needed to contact her. When she left, the room was engrossed in silence. Unable to control my emotions, I started to cry along with Cheryl. Amber was our Barrel of the group. Our college sister. After an hour of crying, Cheryl went to her room. I did the same turning off the television before going to my room hasn't my clairvoyant ability sense this? Why haven't I felt her death?

Unable to accept this, I grabbed my laptop, investigating this. This doesn't seem right. I was going on my computer to Alliance local news about Amber's death. It took a lot of searching and my claircognizance leading the way. That is until I found a possible article of Amber Greer having a head trauma of the potential animal attack. No signs of forced entry or any damage to the house while the boy she was babysitting was asleep heard nothing. I grabbed my cell phone and contacted the only person I could think of to clarify this damn gut feeling.

"Hey, Skylar, what's up?" Sam said.

"Sa...Sam," I started but ended up crying.

"Skylar, what's wrong?" Sam panicked on the other line.

"My friend Amber…she's dead." I cried.

"Sky, I'm so sorry." Sam apologized.

"Can I ask you guys something?" I asked, trying to calm down.

"Sure…" Sam answered.

I took a deep breath, "I had that ability moment again…so I looked it up. I'll send you guys the info I found. Can…take a look and see if Amber's death was…natural or not?"

"Okay, we'll take a look," Sam assured.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Sam gave some comforting advice before hanging up. I found what I could in Amber's case and send it to Sam. Afterward, I just lay in bed, crying about losing one of my dearest friends.

.o0o.

I was in Alliance, Nebraska, two days from the funeral. I visited the Greer's to give my condolences. Mrs. Greer appreciated the visit as we sat down talking about Amber.

"Amber was a good girl," Mrs. Greer said. "I shouldn't have asked her to stay home. I should have let her go back to college."

"What do ya mean?" I asked.

Mrs. Greer hesitated, feeling guilty to tell her daughter's friend. "When the recession started, things had gotten rough, and we ran short for Amber's living expenses at Peru. My husband suggested Amber stay here for the semester for the online courses."

"Miss, in-state tuition is a third of out-state tuition," I said.

Mrs. Greer took a deep breath, "Yes, but our family was going through hard times-"

I took Mrs. Greer's hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. "Amber was a good girl at college. She may have an attitude, but she was diligent and smart."

Mrs. Greer nodded, thanking me as she asked me about Amber at college. I told her the good time Amber and I had at college. In exchange, she said to me about Amber's childhood. When Amber's younger siblings arrived home from school, I decided it was best to leave. The mother walked me to the door, "I'll see you at the Waking."

"Is Amber being buried or cremated?" I asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

She gave a sad look, "The head trauma is too severe…she'll be cremated."

I nodded, opening my purse, and pulled out a charmed bracelet with crystals. Although this was no ordinary crystals, it was rock salt. Large enough rock salts that were polished to appear like crystals. I handed it to Mrs. Greer, which she accepted. "I hope you don't mind putting this on her. It was a birthday present."

Mrs. Greer nodded, saying she will. "You and Cheryl were like her best friends. It's nice to know she had someone at college."

I nodded before leaving.

.o0o.

I walked through Alliance, wanting to clear my head. So many thoughts were roaming through my head that I wasn't paying attention to my surrounding. Somebody tapped my shoulder, causing me to stop, and turned around only to be met in the face by an FBI badge.

"Agents Page and Plant, FBI." Said a baritone voice.

I shoved the badge out of my face to see Sam and Dean in their suits. I took a deep breath not to slap Dean for his minor joke. It would have been funny last week, but right now, I am not in the mood.

"I see you boys are on the case," I said.

"Yeah, you were right, your friend's death wasn't natural," Sam said. "Let's keep moving."

I nodded as we kept walking as the Winchesters discuss what they found.

"So, what caused her death?" I asked.

"Apparently, Amber scratched her brains out," Dean answered.

"What?" I asked, confused. "What do you mean scratch her brains out. That's impossible."

"The Coroner is calling it the worst case of a phantom itch," Dean said.

Although, now that I think about it. The night she died; I was scratching my head until Cheryl stopped me. And we thought it was lice, but concluded it to be an allergic reaction. Suddenly I felt an itch and scratched my neck. Instantly Dean burst out laughing. I looked at him, irritated. Why is he laughing at me? I just had an itch. Sighing, I stared at Sam to continue the investigation.

"So, can you tell us about Amber?" Sam asked.

"Amber is a twenty-year-old college student and my roommate. She decided to do a semester online instead of at the college since there were a lot of family emergencies. The last time I saw her, she appeared fine. A bit irritated about missing out, but fine." I started.

"Any chances Amber pissed any girls off?" Dean asked.

"Are ya suggesting a witch could've done this?" I said.

"Maybe," Sam said. "We want to make sure."

"Guys, Amber was a small-town girl from Nebraska who is studying liberal arts. She's in no sorority or any bitch-like festivities. Hell, when she goes out, she's usually with Cheryl and me. Any hissy-fits are usually caused by who stole her shoes or who is hotter Robert Pattinson or Taylor Lautner: Team Jacob. Either way, why would a witch harm her?" I said.

"She's gotta point," Dean said.

"We just wanted to make sure," Sam said apologetically. "We're heading to the house where Amber was babysitting."

"Do you want to come?" Dean offered.

"No, Amber's funeral is in two days. So, I can't risk it." I said. "Thanks for the offer."

"Well, get some rest," Dean assured patting my shoulder. "You look like shit."

Well, I just lost my roommate and friend three days ago. How do you think I would feel or look, especially now discovering Amber scratched her brains out? So, giving the boys the location of the motel, I'm staying at. I headed over to the motel, feeling like a nap would help calm my nerves.

Later in the day, Sam and Dean came back with a hunk of ham, a cooking tray, three sets of goggles, a pair of rubber gloves, and a fire extinguisher. The boys changed to casual clothes and then set up some experiment. Sam debriefs me on what they discovered. The boy Amber was babysitting, Jimmy, put itching powder in her hairbrush. Seriously, ground-up maple seeds caused Amber to scratch her brains out. Another incident was acquired recently, where a man got electrocuted by a patient, Mr. Stanly, after shaking his hand while wearing a joy buzzer.

"Wait, a wound-up joy buzzer electrocuted a guy?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yep, so we're gonna test the theory out," Dean said, taking the ham out of the wrapper and put in the pan.

A bit curious, I joined in on the experiment as we all got our goggles. Dean put on a pair of rubber gloves and goggles. He carefully put the joy buzzer on, being careful not to shock himself. Once everything was secured, Sam and I stood back in a safe area.

"You ready?" Dean asked.

"Hit it, Mr. Wizard," Sam said, as we put on our goggles.

Dean lowered the shades and then cautiously applies the joy buzzer on the hunk of meat. A buzzing electricity crackle spurt out of the object, causing a burst of electricity into the meat and making it seizure as if it were alive. Smoke came out of nowhere, whiffing the smell of cook pork—all of stared in shock to see this. When Dean pulled his hand back, the raw ham was now cooked.

Dean lifted the shades off his goggles, "That'll do, pig."

Sam and I walked over to get a better look.

"What the hell?" I said in disbelief.

"That crap isn't supposed to work," Sam said.

Yeah, Joy buzzers are a button on a disc that releases the spring, which rapidly unwinds, creating a vibration feel. The person who receives the handshake would have felt the vibration similar to an electric shock when not expecting it. How can this thing give off an electrical current without a source?

"This thing doesn't even have batteries," Dean said, carefully taking the joy buzzer off.

"So…so what, are - - are we looking at cursed objects?" Sam asked.

"Sounds good," Dean guessed. "Maybe there's a powerful witch in town."

"Yeah, one with a dark sense of humor," I muttered.

Dean took out his pocket knife and started cutting the cooked ham. He pulled a piece off and ate it. "If there any link between the, uh, the joy buzzer and the itching powder?"

"Uh, one was made in China, the other Mexico, but they were both bought from the same store," Sam answered.

"Hmm." Dean hummed, eating another piece of ham. He cut another piece, offering it to Sam, who rejected the offer. When he offered me a slice, I took it, taking a bite. Wow, who would have thought electrocuted ham would taste juicy.

So, putting tin foil on the ham, we took the Impala back into town to the one store that produces these cursed objects. The store was called The Conjurarium. The store was decorated in a magician's vintage vibe with aisles of children's prank toys lined up. Seriously, a witch or warlock is cursing children's toys. And I thought lawn darts and Sky Dancers were lethal.

"Sam, Sky!" Dean called out.

We turned around to find Dean holding a whoopee cushion. He smiled like a kid showing off an old faithful toy of his youth. Rolling my eyes, I headed up to the desk. A man came out from the back greeting with a hint of boredom.

"Welcome to The Conjurarium, the sanctum of magic and mystery." He said.

"You the owner?" Sam asked.

"Yep." He answered, walking to the cash register.

"You sold any itching powder or joy buzzers lately?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, a total of one of each. They aren't exactly big-ticket items." The store owner chuckled,

"Look, you guys here to buy something or . . . what?"

Dean nodded, setting the whoopee cushion on the counter and pull out three dollars for the cashier.

"Um, do ya get many customers?" I asked.

"Kids come in, they don't buy much, but they're more than happy to break stuff." The store owner answered. "These days, all they care about are their iPhones and those kissing-vampire movies. The whole thing makes me just . . . "

"Angry?" Dean finished.

"Yeah. Yeah, I am angry." The store owner agreed. "This shop has been my life for twenty years, and now it's wasting away to nothing."

"Which is why you hate them," Dean said.

"I suppose." The store owner said.

"You wishing there was something you could do about it." Dean continued.

"Yeah, I guess I do." He said.

"So you're taking revenge…" Dean said, grabbing the rubber chicken from the display and slammed it on the counter. Then lifted the buzzer, ". . . with this." And smacked the joy buzzer on the rubber chicken electrocuting it.

The burst of electricity shocked the store owner, causing him to fall back. Meanwhile, the buzzer electrocuted the rubber chicken, practically melting it on the counter. By this man's horror expression, I can say he's not out of warlock.

"Something tells me this guy is not a powerful witch," Sam said.

"Sorry. Sorry." Dean apologized.

"Um, we'll be going now," I said.

Grabbing the Winchesters and leaving the store before the guy calls the cop. If this guy is not our witch, I wonder how those cursed objects on in there. Could a witch have implanted those objects to blackmail the guy, or is it something else? We headed back to the motel to do more research on the case with nothing else to do. Of course, Dean was enjoying his new friend called Hammy, as he ate it regularly. Well, luckily, Sam and I grabbed some stuff for a cheaper meal with the electrocuted ham.

.o0o.

The next morning all hell broke loose. Sam got a call from the Doctor saying there has been another incident. From what Sam got on the phone, a man was attacked by the tooth fairy. Seriously, the tooth fairy?

Quickly we went to the hospital to find it very active. Splitting up, Sam when to meet the man who got his teeth pulled out while Dean and I walked around to investigate any other possible incidents. I bought a vase filled with flowers to keep to the disguise that I was seeing someone. When I reached the emergency room, I found a couple of tweens lying in bed in utter pain. Another kid was lying in bed with bandages around his eyes. As I continued to look around, there have been more strange cases.

I talked with some people wondering what has happened to these children. One parent said his son was testing the myth of pop rocks and soda. Like the John Gilchrist myth, when eating pop rocks and then drink Coca-Cola would lead your stomach to explode. Now these boys have stomach ulcers. As for the other kid, he was having a cartoon marathon, and now he's blind.

Wow, I heard the saying, don't watch TV too long, or you'll go blind. But never thought it would happen.

Needing to tell the boys this, I started heading back where Sam was interviewing the man who lost his teeth. On the way, I saw a little girl who was alone in a private room. She seemed sad, scratching her bald head. Still holding the vase filled with flowers, I came inside, putting the vase on the table.

"Who's that from?" she asked.

"A little birdy told me somebody was sad. I hope these make you happy." I answered, pulling out the sunflower and handed it to her.

She accepted the sunflower, sniffing the fragrance, and smiled. I smiled, leaving the room to meet up with the boys. When I found them, Dean was flirting with a nurse. Rolling my eyes, I walked over to Sam, curious about what he got. After flirting with the nurse, Dean joined the group clapping his hand.

"What's up with toothless? Cavity creeps get ahold of him?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Close." Sam answered. "He wrote up a description - - 5'10", 350 pounds, wings, and a pink tutu. Said it was the tooth fairy. "

"So he's obliviously whacked out on painkillers," Dean said.

"Maybe. Whatever it was, got past locked doors and windows without triggering the alarm." Sam said.

"C'mon, the tooth fairy," Dean said.

"And it left 32 quarters underneath his pillow - - one for each tooth," Sam added.

Doing the math, "So he got robbed of his teeth for eight bucks. Wow, and I got Sacagawea dollar for each tooth." I thought aloud. "Anyway, a couple of boys upstairs have stomach ulcers after having a little Mikey moment with pop rocks and coke. Including a teenager gone blind with square eyes after watching TV for seventeen hours."

"Well, I will see your crazy and raise you some." Dean challenged, though hesitated. "Another guy...his face...froze that way."

"What way?" Sam asked.

Dean took a deep breath, looking around before making a silly face by shoving his fingers into his mouth to spread the lips revealing his mouth and crossed his eyes. Yikes, and now it's frozen like that.

"He, uh, held it too long, and it - - is stuck. They're flying in a plastic surgeon." Dean added, rubbing his mouth.

"So, I mean, if you add all that up..." Sam started, then sighed. "I got nothing."

"It means somebody is using urban legends and mini-myths," I started walking down the hallway so we could leave. The Winchesters followed, knowing we have been staying here for far too long.

"I thought sea-monkeys were real," Dean said out of nowhere.

"They are. They're brine shrimp." Sam explained.

"No, no, no, I mean like in the ads. You know, like the sea-monkey wife cooks the pot roast for

the sea-monkey husband, and the sea-monkey kids play with the dog in a sea-monkey castle—real. I mean, I was six, but I believed it." Dean elaborated.

"You're definitely an 80's kid," I muttered.

"Point is…maybe that is the connection. Skylar, you said somebody is using urban legends and myths. The tooth fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you—they're all lies that kids believe." Dean said.

"And now they're coming true," I said.

" Okay, so whatever's doing this is - - is reshaping reality. It has the powers of a god. Or—"Sam started then stopped, rolling his eyes. "—of a trickster."

"Awe, C'mon, not him again," I whined.

The last thing I need is dealing with a trickster. I still haven't forgotten the attempted kidney heist he pulled on me, let alone the trauma. Also, the sick offer of a confidence lesson. Last thing either of us once is dealing with Loki.

"Yeah, with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old," Dean said.

"Or you." Sam countered.

Wow, I hope Dean got some jam because he just got toast. I chuckled, shaking my head as we walked out of the hospital to investigate the case. I genuinely hope this is not the same trickster from last year. So splitting into two groups at the motel since Dean wanted a private moment alone in his room. Not wanting to know why Sam and I went to my room laptops ready for a map.

"So, let's pinpoint the locations of each incident," Sam suggested.

"Okay," I said with my laptop.

Sam placed the map of Alliance on the counter, holding a marker. He read off the names of the victims which I typed their names on the computer on specific victims' homes where the incidents occurred. We come up with seven locations. Afterward, we took a look at a circle within a two-mile radius. Doing more research, many homes were in the area.

Needing to show this to Dean, we went back to the Winchesters room to find Dean eating a ham sandwich.

"Dude, seriously - - still with the ham?" Sam asked.

"We don't have a fridge." Dean muffled out.

"We found something," I said as we set the map on the table. I stole a slice of ham and sat on the table, munching on the cold meat. Dean got up to get a better look at the locations.

"Um, tooth fairy attack was here, pop rocks and coke were here, TV and squared eyes there, then you got itching powder, face freeze, and joy buzzer—"Sam said, pointing at the Xs on the map. "All located within a 2-mile radius."

"So, we got a blast zone of weird, and inside, fantasy becomes a reality," Dean stated.

"Pretty much," I said.

"And what's the A-bomb at its center?" Dean asked.

"Four acres of farmland . . . and a house," Sam answered.

"Owned by the Turner family," I added.

Dean nodded till horror crossed his face. "Our motel isn't in that circle, by any chance?"

"Yeah. Why?" Sam replied.

Dean hesitated, holding up his right hand: the palm is covered in hair. Sam and I looked away in disgust. We are on a case with people's lives in danger from a possible trickster, and Dean decided to masturbate. This was getting on my nerve. My friend is dead, and he shows no respect.

"Ugh, d-dude—"Sam groaned.

"Seriously," I said after seeing the hairy palm. "Please tell me that's not what I think it is?"

"I got bored. That nurse was hot." Dean defended.

"You know you can go blind from that, too." Sam reminded.

"Give me five minutes. We'll go check out that house." Dean said, walking towards the bathroom to shave his hand.

"Hey, do not use my razor!" Sam called out.

I sighed, shaking my head, "You know when you say, "Do not," he'll do."

"Damn it." Sam cursed.

A few minutes later, Dean came out with a half-shaved hand. It seems the hairs are coarse hairs. Having a wicked idea, I headed to my room to grab some wax strips. Dean's eyes widen in horror to see these strips. But to get the hair out from the root, it's waxing. So, take a wax strip, rub it together to warm up the wax, and then apply it to his right hand. Sam received the honor of ripping the piece off, which much pleasure was causing Dean pain. Dean shouted and cursed, holding his now raw hand.

"And you girls use this stuff." He grumbled.

"Yep," I said.

"That's torture, man." He whined.

"Oh, suck it up, it's not like you're having a Brazilian," I said.

Dean grumbled, rubbing his waxed hand. After a moment of complaints, we got to dress up in our FBI gear. Assuming the Turners would not be at Amber's funeral, I put on my makeup, hair in a bun, and pull out my attire for the event. It was the dress I planned to wear at Amber's funeral. It was a black matelassé sheath dress with a buttoned keyhole in the back, sleeveless, and a high neckline: a black blazer and a pair of black ankle boots. As I put the outfit on, I felt it was wrong. So, I changed into a white blouse I had, a pair of dark jeans, and wore the blazer. You might as well go as a social worker, or somebody recently got the call to come into work.

So, with minor adjustment, I corrected my gun in the holster and button the blazer before joining the Winchesters in the Impala. Dean drove to the location. A two-story house in the middle of nowhere. There was a car parked in the driveway, though the amount of dirt and flat tires says it's no longer in use. Cautiously we went to the front door, as Sam dealt with picking the lock. However, the door opened by a young boy.

The kid looked about ten years old. Fair skin freckles, short brown, and brown eyes. He stared at us neutrally, though there was a hint of curiosity. "Can I help you?"

"Hi, what's your name?" I asked.

"Who wants to know?" The boy replied.

"The, uh . . . FBI." Dean started clearing his throat before showing the badge.

"Let me see that." The boy said, grabbing hold of it. "So, what, you guys don't knock?"

"Are your parents home?" Dean asked.

"They work." He answered.

"Is anybody home with you?" I asked.

"No, just me." He answered.

Wait; there is no legal guardian with this kid? Not even a babysitter or older sibling? What kind of parents leaves their child behind without supervision? Yeah, this is the countryside, but the law state children needed an adolescent babysitter or adult present of a child under the age of fifteen.

"Well, you mind if we ask you a few questions, maybe take a look around the house?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." The boy said.

"Come on. You can trust us. We're the authorities." Dean said, waving his badge.

The boy looked at us, debating about this. If he was taught about safety, he should be rejecting the invite and close the door. He nodded, letting us in. We follow the boy to the kitchen, where a pot on the stove was cooking.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"It's called soup." the kid answered sarcastically. He grabbed the handle and put the soup in a large bowl. "You heat it up, and you eat it.

"Chicken noodle or tomato?" I asked, suppressing a chuckled.

"Chicken noodle, of course." The boy answered.

"Right. I-I know. It's just, um . . . "Sam started then paused when the boy looked at him. "I used to make my dinner, too, when I was a kid."

"Well, I'm not a kid." The boy said.

"Right. No, I-I know." Sam assured. "Um, I'm Robert, by the way."

He offered his hand to the boy who shook it, "Jesse."

"Jesse, nice to meet you," Sam said.

Dean took a picture off the fridge and showed it to us. It looked like a bearded man in a pink tutu and fairy accessories. "Did you draw this?"

"It's the tooth fairy," Jesse said.

"That's what you think the tooth fairy looks like, huh?" Dean asked, amused.

"Yeah. My dad told me about him." Jesse answered, a bit cheery now.

"Huh," Dean said.

"What, didn't your dad tell you about the tooth fairy?" Jesse asked.

"My dad," Dean chuckled. "My dad told different stories."

"Well, the tooth fairy isn't a story." Jesse defended.

Suddenly my clairvoyant powers were acting up again. It was telling me this boy's imagination was the cause of these incidents. Since the tooth fairy is on a rampage of stealing people from all of their teeth, I got to come up with something. So, getting drag-fairy out of the way, let's change that imagination.

"You know, my mom said the tooth fairy looked like Tinkerbell," I said.

"Really?" Jesse didn't believe me.

"Yep, and she leaves a golden dollar for the one tooth that came out," I added.

The Winchesters looked at me in why I'm bringing this to the conversation. Dean caught on and asked the next question.

"What do you know about itching powder, Jesse?" Dean asked.

"That stuff will make you scratch your brains out," Jesse answered.

"Pop rocks and coke?" Dean continued.

"You mix them, and you'll end up in the hospital," Jesse replied. "Everyone knows that."

Dean nodded, pulling out the joy buzzer. Jesse's eyes widen in terror, "You shouldn't have that."

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"It can electrocute you," Jesse answered.

"Actually, it can't. It's just a wind-up toy. It's totally harmless. Doesn't even have batteries." Dean said.

"So, it can't shock you?" Jesse asked.

"Nope. Not at all. I swear." Dean promised. "I mean, all it does is shakes in your hand. It's kinda lame. See."

Dean was announcing where he was going as he pressed it against Sam's chest. Sam jumped at the buzzing contraption while I gasped, afraid to lose a friend. However, there was no electrical current or a roasted Sam Winchester. Although, he looks like he might be having a heart attack.

Jesse smiled, relieved that the joy buzzer is nothing that he thought it was.

"What did you say your name was, again?" Dean asked.

"Jesse, Jesse Turner," Jesse answered.

We asked Jesse a few more questions, even giving him my number in case of an emergency. When we left the house, none of us could understand what is going on. That kid has some ability that can alter reality. How is this possible?

"Dude, what the hell?" Sam said, still in shock.

"I had a hunch. I went with it." Dean said.

"You risked my ass on a hunch!" Sam yelled.

"You're fine," Dean said.

"How about a warning next time," I said, taking deep breaths of the almost fried Winchester.

"Besides, now we know who's turning this town into Willy Wonka's worst nightmare," Dean continued.

"The kid." Sam pointed out.

"Yeah. Everything Jesse believes comes true." Dean pointed out. "He thinks the tooth fairy looks like Belushi, joy buzzers really shock people. Boom. That's what happens. "

"Yeah, but convince him the joy buzzers don't actually work, and they go from killing machines back into crap toys." Sam chuckled.

"Probably doesn't know he's doing it," I said.

Feeling eyes on us, we look up at the second-story window to find Jesse watching us. We waved at him before leaving, heading to the Impala.

"How is he doing it?" Dean asked.

.o0o.

Back at the motel, I researched the possible cause of how Jesse could alter reality. At first, I listed the common causes, such as warlock, yet other beings could do that. Djinns could make a human hallucinate, except that none is powerful enough to cause an entire town to go mad.

Another theory is that Jesse is a trickster or a son of a trickster.

Maybe the kid is an actual Tulpa? A Tulpa or, in other terms, thought-forms that are frequently used in ceremonial or chaos magic. Basically, a tulpa is the given name to anything formed through the meditation of an idea. As the saying goes, "If you wish hard enough, can make something happen" comes to play.

Or maybe Jesse Turner is gifted. A boy with a severe imagination to a point it becomes his reality. A type of psychic I mean a hairy tooth fairy and shocking buzzer. The thought got me on edge, thinking about Amber. Her death was an accident. I couldn't blame Jesse for he probably doesn't know about his ability. Can you blame someone for not knowing?

Sighing, I look up to see Dean lying on the bed, actually doing research. He's been hitting John's journal while Sam went out a while back to get a hold of Jesse's file. Speaking of the Devil and he shall appear, came into the room.

"So, dug up what I could on Jesse Turner. It's not much. Uh, B student, won last year's Pinewood Derby. But get this. Jesse was adopted. His birth records are sealed." Sam announced.

"So you unsealed them, and?" Dean asked.

"There's no father listed, but Jesse's biological mom is named Julia Wright. She lives in Elk Creek, on the other side of the state." Sam answered.

"Guess you guys are gonna go to Elk Creek," I stated.

"Yep," Dean said, closing his book and throws it down on the bed.

Dean got his jacket while Sam and he headed off to Elk Creek. I stayed here doing more research on possible leads. Now thinking about it, I sincerely hope Jesse is not the son of a trickster.

Later in the evening, I received a call from Sam, updating me on the case. Julia Wright, who is Jesse's biological mother, gave birth to him while being possessed by a demon for nine months. The demon used Julia Wright's body to give birth to a child. She managed to vanquish the demon by consuming salt after the pregnancy; sadly, she couldn't bear to raise the child. Her two options were to either kill the boy or put him up for adoption. God was giving her the courage; she put the boy up for adoption. Here's the thing, there is no father, and Julia was a virgin. Can demons even impregnant their vessels?

Wait, so Jesse Turner is half-human and a half-demon? I thought, confused. Is that even possible?

Sighing, I took what remains of the leftover ham waiting for the guys. Munching on the sandwich, I waited until hearing the sounds of flapping wings. My Spidey-senses tingle when I turned around to see another man in the room. I stumbled back, pulling my gun out and aimed at him. How could this guy get in here? The door was fucking lock.

"I mean you no harm," The man said in a monotone voice.

The voice sounded familiar, yet I don't recall encountering this man. The average man in his thirties, with short curly brown hair and blue eyes. He wore a black suit, a buttoned white dress shirt, a loosened blue tie, and a trench coat.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

"Castiel," he said naturally. "I'm an angel."

"Wait, you're that annoying angel that is stalking Sam and Dean?" I asked.

Sam and Dean have mention Castiel a couple of times. An angel who is on their side in defeating Lucifer. However, not much has been talked about him. Then again, by his attitude, who would.

"No, I am their protector," Castiel corrected.

The door opened as the Winchesters walked in. They saw me aim my gun at Castiel. Dean groaned, "Cass, knock before entering."

"I'm sorry," Castiel apologized while I put my gun away.

"I take it you got our message," Sam said, taking a seat at the table.

"It's lucky you found the boy," Castiel said, now sober.

"Oh, yeah, really lucky. What do we do with him?" Dean asked.

"Kill him," Castiel answered.

"What?" I gasped. "You can't be serious?"

"This child is half-demon and half-human, but it's far more powerful than either. Other cultures call this hybrid Cambion or Kanako. You know him as the antichrist." Castiel explained. He took a seat at the table. Out of nowhere, a farting noise filled the room for an extended period. The angel pulled out a whoopee cushion Dean bought earlier out from under him. "That wasn't me."

"Who put that there?" Dean chuckled.

"Anyway, I don't get it. Jesse is the devil's son?" Sam asked.

Castiel sighed, "No, of course not. Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The antichrist is not Lucifer's child. It's just a demon spawn. But it is one of the devil's greatest weapons in the war against heaven."

"Well, if Jesse's a demonic howitzer, then what the hell's he doing in Nebraska?" Dean asked.

"The demons lost him. They can't find him. But they're looking." Castiel answered.

"How did they lose him?" I asked.

"Because of the child's power. It hides him from both angels and demons. For now," The angel answered.

"So he's got, like, a force field around him. Well, that's great. Problem solved." Dean suggested.

"With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life—something that will draw the demons to him. The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then, with a word, this child will destroy the Host of Heaven." Castiel said.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. You're saying that—that Jesse's gonna nuke the angels?" Dean guessed.

"We cannot allow that to happen," Castiel said.

"Wait," Sam said, standing up. "We're the good guys. We—we don't just—kill children."

"A year ago, you would have done whatever it took to win this war," Castiel said.

"But this is different," I said.

Dean stepped forward, putting a hand on my arm and putting himself between Castiel and me.

"Okay. Hey, look, we are not going to kill him. All right? But we can't leave Jesse here either.

We know that. So...we take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do."

"You'll kidnap him? What is going on in this town? It's what happens when this thing is happy. You cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry. Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought, he could be halfway around the world." Castiel doubted said.

"So we—"Dean started.

"So we tell him the truth. You say Jesse's destined to go dark side—fine. But he hasn't yet. So if we lay it all out for him—what he is, the apocalypse, everything—he might make the right choice." Sam finished.

A long pause engrossed the room on the idea. Can we take Jesse away and teach him how to use his power? Can we make him into a comic book superhero? Hell, not even I can control my powers.

"You didn't. And I can't take that chance." Castiel retorted.

In a blink of an eye, the angel vanished.

Realizing Castiel was going to kill Jesse, the boys hurried and changed into casual clothing. We rushed to get to the Turner residences in the hope to save Jesse. Just because a child has a keen ability doesn't mean he has to be killed.

.o0o.

My ability told me that Castiel was at the Turner residence. We were in the house as Sam tried to pick the lock. I yelled at him to just open it. Dean considered this as he kicked the door down. Immediately we ran in, finding Jesse pressed against a corner scared. But wait, where's Castiel?

"Was there a guy here?" "Dean asked. "In a trench coat?"

Jesse nodded as he pointed at the floor. Looking down, a small action figure stood there about six inches tall. It was a man in a trench coat raising a knife. You got to be kidding me? Jesse turned Castiel into a toy? Dean knelt down and carefully picked it up.

All a bit surprised, I gestured everyone to have a seat. Jesse, slightly shock, sat on the couch with me, Sam taking a chair, while Dean placed Castiel on the fireplace mantel. It's quite hard to comprehend what just happened.

"Was he your friend?" Jesse asked angrily.

"Him? No." Dean hesitantly answered.

"I did that. But how did I do that?" Jesse said.

Us hunters paused, thinking about this. Should we tell Jesse that he is a Cambion or slowly go through the motions? Last thing we want to blurt out that he is the antichrist. And by looking at some of the religious crosses on the wall, it's clear that the boy was raised in the Christian faith.

"You're a superhero." Dean lied.

"I am?" Jesse asked, happily.

"Yeah," Dean said, walking over to him. "Yeah. I mean, who else could turn someone into a toy?

You're Superman—minus the cape and the go-go boots. See, my—my partners and I, we work for a secret government agency. It's our job to find kids with special powers. In fact, we're here to take you to a hidden base in South Dakota, where you'll be trained to fight evil."

"Like the X-Men?" Jesse asked.

"In fact, our friend here, Skylar has powers as well," Sam added.

I glared at Sam for blurting that out. However, Jesse heard it looking at me curiously. Taking a deep breath, I look at Jesse, "Yes, I'm claircognizance. I can know things without even learning about it." Jesse seemed skeptical. "Asking me something that only you know of the answer."

Jesse took a moment to think about the question seriously. Once he got it, he asked, "Who is my favorite X-men character?"

I paused, letting my clairvoyant ability take control. A few seconds later, I answered, "Nightcrawler."

Jesse's eyes widen in amazement.

"In fact, the, uh, the guy we're taking you to—he's even in a wheelchair. You'll be a hero. You'll save lives. You'll get the girl. Sounds like fun, right?" Dean added, getting up.

My Spidey-senses tingled, indicating a demonic presence was near. I got up, aiming my gun at the intruder, when suddenly flung against the wall. Dean charged after the demon that possessed a woman with blond hair, only to be thrown across the room on the other side.

"They're lying to you." The demon said casually. Sam got up about to attack, only the demon flung him against the wall with Dean. "Stay right there, dreamboat. Can't hurt you. Orders. You, on the other hand? Hurting you's encouraged."

The demon filched her wrist, slamming Dean against the opposite wall where I was pinned. She continued this, going back and forth with Dean like some cartoon.

"Leave him alone!" Jesse cried, standing up.

The demon leaned down to Jesse, speaking sweetly to him. "Jesse. You're beautiful. You have your father's eyes."

"Who are you?" Jesse asked.

"I'm your mother." Demon Julia answered.

"No, you're not," Jesse said in disbelief.

"Mm-hm. You're half-human...half one of us." Demon Julia said, spreading her arms out.

"She means demons, Jesse!" Dean shouted.

Demon Julia straightens and holds her hand out, clenching it into a fist. Sam, Dean, and I gasped, in pain, feeling out throats being strangled by an unknown source. She then went back to Jesse, "Those people you call your parents—they lied to you, too. You're not theirs—not really."

"My mom and dad love me," Jesse said.

Demon Julia laughed, then got serious. "Do they? Is—is that why they leave you alone all day? Because they love you so much? These people—these imposters—they told you that the tooth fairy was real and that your toys could hurt you and a hundred other things that aren't true. They love you so much, they made your whole life a lie. Look into your heart, Jesse. You've always known you weren't theirs. You've always known you were different. Everyone has lied to you. They're not FBI agents. And you're not a superhero."

"Then what am I?" Jesse asked.

"You're powerful. You can have anything you want. You can do anything you want." Demon Julia answered.

"Don't listen to her, Jesse!" I cried out. "She's not-Ah!"

Demon Julia clenched her fist tighter. I coughed, feeling my body being contorted all over.

"They treated you like a child. Nobody trusted you. Everybody's lied to you. Doesn't that make you angry?" Demon Julia asked.

Hearing this got Jesse angry. He clenched his fist, causing the room to shake in its own earthquake. Lights were flickering, plaster chipping off the wall, and dust spiraling around the room. Even the fireplace ignited in flames. Demon Julia looked up, exultant.

"See? It does make you angry. But I'm telling you the truth, Jesse." Demon Julia said. "Wouldn't it be better if there were no lies? Come with me… and you can wash it all clean. Start over. Imagine that—a world without lies." Her words were making things worse as pictures shatter on the ground and the foundation cracking.

"She's right. We lied to you." Sam cried out. "But I'll tell you the truth."

Demon Julia raised her fist, causing Sam more pain. However, Sam tried to counter with his speech through the pressure added to his throat. "I just want...to tell..."

"Stop it," Jesse ordered.

Automatically Sam drops to the floor, released from the demon's grasp. He gasped for air while Dean and I remained pinned. Fortunately, the pressure vanished from killing us.

"I want to hear what he has to say," Jesse said.

"You're stronger than I thought." The demon complimented.

Sam got up, rubbing his neck, "We lied to you. And I'm sorry. So here's the truth. I'm Sam Winchester. That's my brother, Dean." Sam said, pointing to me. "And her, she's my friend, Skylar, a researcher. W-we hunt monsters."

"Except when you are the monster. Right, Sammy?" Demon Julia taunted.

"And that woman right there, her name is Julia. She's your mother. But the thing inside of her, the thing that you're talking to—it's a demon." Sam continued.

"A demon?" Jesse asked.

"He's done nothing but lie to you since the moment you met him. Don't listen to him. Punish him." The demon interjected.

"Sit down and shut up," Jesse ordered. Instantly a chair scooted up being the demon, who was forced into it, lips sealed shut. She struggled to speak or move from her chair but failed miserably.

"There's, uh, kind of a...a war between angels and demons, and...You're a part of it." Sam explained.

"I'm just a kid," Jesse said.

"You can go with her if you want. I can't stop you. No one can. But if you do...millions of people will die." Sam offered.

"She said I was half-demon. Is that true?" Jesse asked.

"Yes. But you're half-human, too. You can do the right thing. You've got choices, Jesse. But if you make the wrong ones, it'll haunt you for the rest of your life." Sam tried to be assured.

"Why are you telling me this?!" Jesse cried.

"Because I have to believe someone can make the right choice, even if I couldn't," Sam said.

The room was engrossed in silence as Jesse thought about his. After coming up with the decision, he clenched his fist, glaring at the demon. "Get out of her."

The chair flies back against the wall. Julia's mouth opened, releasing the black smoke that was the demon. In its vulnerable form, it vanished going up the chimney, leaving an unconscious Julia Wright in the chair. Not a moment too soon, Dean and I were released from the wall falling. I caught myself putting the gun back in the holster.

"How did ya do that?" I asked.

"I just did," Jesse answered with a shrug.

"Kid...you're awesome." Dean complimented.

We composed ourselves, catching our breath from the five minutes of brutal gravity. Any longer and I might have passed out from suffocation. Jesse walked over to Julia Wright, seeing his biological mom for the first time. Julia remained unconscious in the chair.

"Is she gonna be all right?" Jesse asked.

Dean looked at Julia, "Eventually." He bends down picking up Castiel's figure off the ground.

"Look, uh, the truth is, he's a buddy of mine. Is there any way you could turn him back?"

"He tried to kill me." Jesse reminded.

"Right. Uh. But he's a—he's a good guy. He was just confused." Dean tried to defend. Sadly, Jesse wasn't buying it. The hunter cleared his throat. "Okay. It's been a long night. We'll...talk about it later." As he put Castiel back on the mantel.

"What now?" Jesse asked.

"Now we take you someplace safe, get you trained up. You'd be handy in a fight, kid." Dean

answered.

"What if I don't want to fight?" Jesse asked.

"Jesse," I said, walking over to him, bending down to his level. "You're powerful. More powerful than anything we've ever seen. That makes you—"

"A freak." Jesse interrupted.

"Gifted," I corrected.

"To some people, maybe. But not to us. See, we're kind of freaks ourselves." Sam added.

"With great power comes great responsibility," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't stay here, can I?" He asked.

"No. The demons know where you are, and more will be coming." Dean answered.

"I won't go without my mom and dad," Jesse said.

"There's nothing more important than family. We get that. And if you really want to take them with you, we'll back your play. But you got to understand—it's gonna be dangerous for them, too." Sam warned.

"What do you mean?" Jesse asked.

"Our dad...he would take us with him wherever he went," Dean answered.

"Where is he now?" Jesse asked.

"Dead. A demon killed him." Sam answered.

"Look, Jesse...once you're in this fight..." Dean said, coming down to Jesse's height. "You're in it till the end, win or lose."

"What should I do?" Jesse asked.

"We can't tell you. It's your choice. It's not fair. I know." Sam answered.

"Can I go see my parents? I, I need to...say goodbye." The boy asked.

Sam and Dean nodded as they let Jesse go upstairs to say goodbye to his parents and pack. I went up with the boy, going to his room to pull out a backpack and filled it with some clothes he would need. I felt terrible about what the boy is going through—having to learn that he is half-demon, adopted, and forced to leave his home. It must be hard on him.

Jesse came into the room and packed several of his action figures. Once packed, he laid on his bed deep in thought. His eyes were wandering around the room, probably taking in the memories. Although, I sensed he was scared. So, with a deep breath, I sat down next to him.

"I'm scared," Jesse whispered.

I sighed, combing my fingers through his hair. "I know you're afraid, but being afraid is alright. Because didn't anybody ever tell you, fear is a superpower? Fear can make you faster and cleverer, and stronger. But that's okay. Because if you're very wise and very strong, fear doesn't have to make you cruel or cowardly, fear can make you kind. Even with the powers you have, never let them tell you if you are good or evil. You are you. You're special, you're gifted, and your kind." As I whispered this into his ears, "With great powers comes with great responsibility."

He pulled back, looking at me, "It's okay to be afraid."

"It's what makes us human," I said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I can't stay, but I don't wanna go either," Jesse mumbled.

"The choice is up to you." I reminded him.

Jesse looked at the poster on the wall of surfers in action. The largest one had the word Australia underneath it. A few minutes later, he walked over to the desk, writing something down. Afterward, he came up to me, hugging me, before grabbing his backpack. Not sure what is going on, he said he got my number then vanished in a blink.

Surprised, I got up, looking around the room, finding Jesse was gone. A moment later, Sam and Dean came barging into the room.

"He's gone," a third person said. Turning around, we saw Castiel enter the room."

"Where?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Castiel answered. "Jesse put everyone in town back to normal – the ones still alive. Then he vanished."

I sighed disappointedly, thinking for a second Amber would be alive again. Once more, I put too much faith in the possibility the dead could come back.

"At least he left a note for his parents," I said, holding the letter using my sleeve to prevent any fingerprints.

"What does it say?" Dean asked.

I rephrase what was written, "That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he's sorry." Then put the letter back on the bed.

"How do we find him?" Dean asked Castiel.

"With the boy's powers, we can't," Castiel answered. "Not unless he wants to be found."

I had a feeling where Jesse would be. How a moment ago he was staring at the poster of Australia surfers. There could be a chance he is there, either using his powers to be in another family, look older, or whatever he does to survive. I wouldn't know until he calls me if he decides to make contact.

Heading downstairs, Castiel picked up Julia Wright's body, saying he shall take the woman home. Being the middle of the night, we hunters went back to the Impala, driving back to the motel. On the ride over, the vehicle was silent until Dean spoke.

"You think Jesse's gonna be okay?"

Sam inhales, "I hope so."

"I'm sure he's fine," I said.

Already I could feel my clairvoyant ability assuring me he is okay.

"You know, we destroyed that kid's life by telling him the truth," Dean noted.

A siren wailed, coming near only to drive past us. We sighed in relief, continuing onward.

"We didn't have a choice, Dean," Sam said.

"Yeah," I breathed.

"You know, I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids," Dean said. "You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke—protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. The more I think about it..., the more I wish our parents had lied to us."

"Yeah, me too," Sam sighed.

"Same here," I agreed.

We all grew up knowing the truth about the world, both humanly and supernaturally. There is no safe place. There are cruel people, and there are monsters. In the end, we as children of hunters only wish to have that mere lie to feel safe. Even if it's un-logical, it shall be distracting.

The next day I went to Amber's funeral. The Winchesters headed off to South Dakota when Bobby gave them a tip of a man dropping dead in his bathroom. Here's the thing, the man is in his thirties and found dead looking like an eighty-year-old man. So, wishing them farewell, I joined Cheryl at the funeral for Amber. We listen to Amber's family to give out eulogies. Many tears were shed, a couple of chuckles, and few smiles from hearing Amber's story.

After the funeral, Cheryl and I headed back to Peru. We were having one less musketeer in our group.


Hey guys, I'm going to take a break from the story. I went back to school, and I have to be committed to my work. I'll post now and then. But keep the heads up. If I get a lot of reviews, then I'll post another chapter soon.

The Speech Skylar said half of it is part of Clara's monologue in Doctor Who. Been stuck in my head, so I thought to use it to get it off my chest.

Thanks for reading, and don't forget to leave a review!

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