Good grief, it took forever to clear out the webs last time. Now it looks like no one's been here in ages.

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Hello?

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Huh. Usually, I would get a visit from the King of the Shitlords by now. Guess he got tired of waiting… not that I blame him, nor am I complaining. Seriously, I thought he would hound me for the rest of my life! Anyways, what's up people, Scorpion here. It's been a while since I had graced this site with a new addition to my story, but here I am. Seriously, for all those who followed for so long, I'm sorry for the wait. I had graduated from college and things got wilder from there. Sadly, my creative bug was drained and I had to go into a hiatus to get myself right before continuing onward. Like I said before, I intend to finish this story, and it's high time to start acting like it. So, without further ado, *clears voice* Chapter 6...

A Swell Battle

While the children ran to grab their bikes, Sam went ahead of the two and ran to open an old sky blue car in front of them. It only took a moment to get the passenger door open and the trunk unlocked for the both of them, but seconds felt like hours to the younger Winchester. Dean is no stranger to a fist fight, and they've both dealt with far worse than what the drunkard brought to the table. That didn't mean that he didn't worry about his brother. However, not being there in case things went wrong was putting him more on edge than usual, and things tend to go wrong on a regular basis. When Sam heard glass shatter from inside the house, he instinctively turned towards the house, only to see the boy taxiing two bicycles, one being the heavily customized one that the brothers saw earlier, closer to the Challenger. "Do you really need to bring your bikes? Now might not be a good time."

"Hey. If you can magically prevent me from both being grounded and being beaten up for even considering leaving these bikes behind, then I would gladly take you up on that option!" The boy said as he brought the bikes to the car's trunk. Seeing that he wasn't going to leave the bikes behind, Sam turned back to the car and popped the trunk lid before noticing that the girl was missing.

"Where's your friend?" A thought came to mind as soon as Sam asked, "Don't tell me she went back inside?

"S-she forgot something. She told me she'd catch up in a minute!" Sam gave him a look that was equal parts annoyance and surprise. The boy only matched his expression when they looked at each other. "Hey, I tried to stop Jonesy, but she said it was important. And she kinda forced her bike on me when she went." The boy hid his face behind the trunk top as he began to load his bikes within the space.

Sam turned towards the house again, now even more worried than before. The girl had recklessly gone back in the house and Dean was likely too busy to notice. With that in mind, he grabbed his gun from the glove compartment, checked his ammo, and turned towards the house. He didn't want to use it, but he wasn't letting his brother or these kids get hurt.

"Where are you going?" the boy called from the car.

"I'll be back. Get in the car and stay there," Sam command as he quickly approached the front door.

FWoaB

As soon as the door was kicked in, Dean sprung into the house with Sam closely behind. They didn't quite know what to expect as they ran around the corner to where the stairs met the hall to the living room. It could be the monster that they were looking for, or maybe something completely irrelevant. It could have even been a false alarm. It wouldn't be the first time that the brothers breached a house of someone who was playing a horror movie a bit too loudly. Sure, it was the guy's sister that was hexing her cheating ex-boyfriend with voodoo and he was completely innocent, but that sound system was very convincing and the evidence was pointing at the guy anyway. The tutu was never explained, though.

When they turned the corner, they saw the sources of the noise, and it wasn't a loud movie. The first thing they saw was a dark-skinned boy in what looked like a firefighter's jacket laying at the foot of the steps, seemingly in pain. He was frantically trying to get up off the ground, grunting in pain in his attempts. The brothers followed his view and saw what motivated the boy's struggle. A girl, about his age, was being held against the wall by her collar and was clearly struggling to free herself from a disheveled man who was about to strike her.

Dean acted first and fast, charging at the man and throwing himself on him. The tackle was hard enough to fling both men through the hall and into the living room, landing on the hard table as they did. The whiskey decanter the table fell, but the iron legs that the glass sat on withstood the weight as the two rolled over it and landing on the carpet. They both got back up quickly, Dean feeling the pain from the unforgiving iron, but managed to push it aside as he focused on his opponent. It didn't take long for Dean to notice three things about the ball of fury that was readying himself for another round. One, the man had the ornate glass bottle in his grasp, brandishing it like a club. The glass looked thick enough to go toe-to-toe with a steel pipe and win, and Dean didn't even want to know what it would do to his skull. Second, judging from the smell when Dean was close enough, the man was plastered. Not so much that he lost total motor function, but definitely enough to inhibit his ability to think. These first two notes made it easy to determine the man's identity. He must be George Dupree, the owner of the house and though he may be a mean drunk, he wasn't so uncoordinated that he couldn't put up a good fight. Which was fine by him.

Dean was a man of simple rules. Never leave home without a knife (or a condom, but that's something else entirely), always look out for the family, and defend the defenseless. He may not always follow those rules and he may have gotten in trouble because of it, but following those principles more often than not has made him into what he hoped was a good man. He wasn't sure what the reasons for Dupree's behavior or whether it has anything to do with the case, but he would be damned long day in hell before he allows someone or something to hurt a kid if he could help it. The irony was not lost on him either.

Dupree quickly closed the distance and tried to take a swing at him with the bottle. Thinking quickly, Dean moved to the side and, as Dupree passed, grabbed him by his shirt. The alcohol made it easy to redirect the drunks movements, as he turned his opponent back around and towards the fireplace. The man slammed against the hearth, knocking over the stand containing the fireplace tools. The man was staggered but judging from the hateful glare he shot at Dean, he wasn't deterred. He slammed the glass bottle against the wood, shattering the thick container at the end, leaving only the neck which extended to a wicked sharp point. With only a growl for a warning, he charged Dean again.

The swing was wide, giving time for Dean to step away from the swing as well as pull the classic trip up on him. His extended foot caught Dupree as he passed, turning the drunk's forward momentum against him once again. Dean quickly added to Dupree's fall with a quick right hook to the jaw. The man fell to the ground hard, dropping the remains of the decanter and giving Dean some hope of ending the fight quickly. A hope that faded as quickly as it came when the drunken man rebounds back to his feet, delirious but ready to continue. All Dean can do is sigh in exasperation.

"Hey, Dean! Need help?" He heard his brother call from the hallway. Dean could only afford a quick glance towards his brother and the kids before facing his opponent again. They both looked a bit beaten up but were more or less no worse for wear.

Dean, content with their condition, put his guard back up. "I'm fine! Just get 'em outta here!" was all he could afford before Dupree charged him again. Dean tried to step aside again, but the previous fall must have knocked some level of sobriety into him, because instead of just stumbling passed again, Dupree rose his fist and jumped. The hunter didn't have time to even think to react before the flying punch caught him in the face, sending them both to the ground.

'I can't believe I let that hit me,' was all the hunter could think repeatedly as he shook the haze from his vision. Both men tried to get up before the other and Dupree won the race. Without even completely standing, he quickly moved towards Dean and got on his back, wrapping his arm around his neck as he did. He rolled them both over on his back and wrapped his legs around Dean's sides, catching him in a chokehold. Dean tried to struggle out of it, but the vice was closed and was quickly tightening. This was a proper choke hold, Dean realized. The kind that was meant not to suffocate, but to cut blood flow in the brain, knocking out an opponent in a few seconds. He knew this because his father learned it in the military and thus, taught him.

John, in his vast knowledge, also taught him how to get out of one.

Instinct told him to tried to pull the arm off his neck, but Dean knew that effort would be pointless. Instead, he reached behind his head until he found Dupree's other hand, and further still to find the tumb. His vision was already going dark, so working quickly, he prepared his other hand, both to try to alleviate the pressure on his neck and to have it ready for his escape. With the last few seconds of consciousness, Dean grabbed the thumb and pulled hard, wrenching Dupree's hand off him and removing the pressure on his neck. Finally, the hunter pushed Dupree's arm off his neck and over his chin, placing it in position for the last step. As soon as the arm was close enough to his mouth, Dean closed his eyes, cringed preemptively for the taste of sweat, and humored the primate in him.

Dean bit Dupree's arm. Hard.

Dupree may not have been sober at the moment, but he was not close to drunk enough to ignore the feeling of teeth sinking into his flesh. He screamed in Dean's ear as, despite his efforts to fight through the pain, Dupree eventually had to let go. The moment he removed his arm from around Dean's neck, the hunter retaliated with multiple elbows to the ribs before unwrapping the man's legs and rolled off.

The blood suddenly returning to his head had made him too woozy to get back up quickly, but relief from the hold was too refreshing to ignore. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Dupree quickly recover from their exchange and stand to his feet before Dean could. The bleeding from the bite wound didn't seem to bother him, especially as he walked towards where the bottleneck had fallen and grabbed it with said hand.

The man didn't even say a word as he approached Dean with the sharp glass beyond the low growls that had accented his breathing. Any semblance of reason, though muddled by the alcohol, was now burned away by blind anger. Dean slowly got back to his feet and backed away, keeping out of the man's reach. Dean was still sure that he could take this guy, but this was taking more time than he cared for. He was still lightheaded from the stranglehold and fatigue was setting in. "Now would be a good time for a plan," Dean thought as Dupree charged again. This time, he had his bottle close to the side as he lunged, getting in close for a stab to the midsection.

Dean shifted his position, preparing to catch the blade, as Dupree charged. He expected the man to go for the abdomen, a time-tested maneuver that takes advantage of a larger target. Dupree charged and Dean braced, unaware that Dupree had something else in mind. Instead of using the bottle, Dupree shifted towards his other shoulder as he charged, body checking Dean though the kitchen doorway and once again to the floor. Dean barely had a second to collect himself before Dupree straddled him and tried to bring the broken glass down on his face. Dean caught Dupree's wrists and stopped the makeshift blade, but the position that he was in gave Dupree leverage, which he immediately took advantage of. The glass slowly approached Dean's face as Dupree put more of his weight behind his attack. If there was anything in him that kept him from going too far, from doing irreversible damage, it was burned away by rage some time ago.

'Oh no,' Dean thought, 'I am not going out like this!' Dean tried to push back, but all he could do was hold out and prevent the glass from getting closer.

A loud bang echoed in the kitchen as Dupree grunted in pain. He rolled off Dean, dropping the bottleneck and tightly held the back of his head. Dean stared at the man for a second in confusion. He knew that a fight could feel longer than it is, so he knew Sam couldn't have come back this soon. He looked towards the kitchen's entryway and found the blue haired girl from earlier, holding a fireplace shovel that now had a notable dent in it. Dupee focused on nursing the growing bump on his head and turned towards the girl. He shook away the last of the stars from his eyes only to see the red in hers.

"That's for Wybie," Dupree heard from the beast slowly approaching her prey. The drunken man tried to get back to his feet but was quickly met, once again, by a shovel impacting his jaw and he found himself on the ground again. "That's for Alexis," another snarl. Whatever alcohol that was fueling his rage must have burned out of his system or was knocked out of him by the surprise attack because he was now feeling every hit that he received. He turned around on his back and got a good look at the girl. Whatever happened to the fearful girl from upstairs, she was no longer there at the moment. What was there now was a fierce determination that he's never seen before. He raised his hand to her and tried to say something, but he did not get the chance. She brought the shovel up to the side of her head one more time, choking the handle as she did, and swung hard. A loud bang was the last thing he heard before all went black.

The assault from the man on top of the long ride here had finally caught up with Coraline."And that was for hitting me," her tight grip on the shovel relented, a loud clang echoed throughout the now empty room. Her pounding heart and shallow breath kept her from noticing the silence and her aching body kept her from caring. Coraline slump against the entryway to the kitchen, never taking her eyes off of the now pacified Mr. Dupree. She never noticed Dean's dumbfounded expression that he pointed at the blue-haired girl that saved his life.

Dean wasn't the type to feel inadequate when someone else came to his rescue, be it male or female, young or old. The Winchesters have pulled each other out the grease about as often as they threw themselves in. Outside of that, there have been other hunters, people who they were trying to save, mediums, the monsters who were friends or foes alike, the list goes on. But kids were a rare one, and never like that. He wanted to chew the girl out for jumping back into danger, but he figured that saving his life had earned her a temporary reprieve. He found his way back to his feet and made his way wordlessly out of the kitchen, the girl following closely behind.

Sam popped in as soon as they turned the corner towards the exit, gun in hand and expression hard. As soon as he saw Dean and the girl no worse than beforehand, at least no worse for Dean than normal, his expression lightened, giving way to relief. With a wordless nod between the brothers, the three of them exited the house and quickly made their way to the car.

FWoaB

'Everything's coming up in my favor. I never thought this would be so easy."

He walked down the street of his newest pet project with a smile on his face. He figured that this would take a few more decades at best when he started out. Waiting around at that hospital for the right souls was a surprisingly arduous task. Who would have thought that finding people wallowing in despair would be so difficult, especially at a hospital of all places? Not an investment that he was expecting to have so few returns. Now, he just needs to introduce some down in the dumps kid to the spider lady, and the effort pays for itself in dividends. In the decades after his death, he only managed to scrounge up a small handful of souls. One, maybe two every year or so. Three, if he played his cards right. Now, he collected as many disparate riddled souls in one year as he did in five and soon, more than that. Very soon.

The only thing that might cause trouble in this setup is the Beldame's creepy obsession and even that might end up helping him in the long run as well. She may have had some smarts rattling around in that head of hers, but having to match wits with children as a regular habit has not made her any sharper. And her brush with starvation and her hard on for… 'Caroline, was it? Crap, never really bother to remember. Eh, sure it wasn't important...' didn't help with her sanity. Of all the people he had to pull a fast one on, both while alive and dead, this creature was probably his easiest mark. If he had not needed her at this point, he would have ended his con and moved on to the final stages by now. Not that he was in too much of a hurry. Jockeys pour on the gas at the last leg, not con men like him. He waited such a long time for his plan to complete. What are a few more days?

He stood across the street of his newest pet project, listening to the commotion going on inside. The man didn't really know what was going on in there or why, but he couldn't care less. The faint sound of glass breaking and screaming only told him what he wanted to know, that this one was almost ready. Not that the drunkard was difficult. A widower who recently lost a son and will soon lose his daughter. This one was already nearing the edge of despair, just short of ripe. Another day or two, and Dupree will be just right for the taking. The only issue is the car that had pulled up just a moment before that block his view of the unfolding drama inside. The garish blue color of the old car only made it more distracting. But today was a good day. The car could have been a burning heap, and it still wouldn't change his mood. So close to his goals. So close to his reunion. Why would anything, even an ugly piece of junk, sour his mood?

His wayward thoughts almost caused him to miss the front door opening and two people three people run out. One was a guy who has clearly been drinking his milk as tall as he was, and the other two were kids, a dark skin hunchback and a stick of a girl who had to have been possessed by something to decide that blue hair was a good idea. However, it was when he saw the girl's blue locks that he remembered something.

"A girl with blue hair. Coraline."

An eyelid began to twitch with annoyance as he recalled the Beldame's words. The fact that he remembered her name didn't surprise him nearly as much as the fact that, of all times, she was here. He looked again to make sure, but the girl was gone, leaving only Sasquatch and Quasimodo to load the bikes in the car. The idea of him only seeing things didn't have a chance to form before the girl came back out with another guy with a jawline you can cut meat on. They look like they took a bit of a wallop, but they weren't too worse for wear, which only worried him. If they somehow peeped Dupree back up or worse, if the guy kicked it, it would be a major setback. As close as he is to his goals, he could not lose this guy yet.

He waited until the four people hoped in the car and drove off before he started crossing to check his golden goose. He didn't have to go far before Dupree shambled out of his house, holding his head in one hand and a bottle of bourbon in the other. He looked down the street as the car went around the corner and drove off. He simply took a long drink from the bottle, letting his other hand fall, revealing a massive bump on his head and walked back inside the house.

The man took a deep breath, as close to one without lungs, and let out a slow sigh of relief. He turned away from the house and started down the street again, relieved that his plans hadn't brought the farm yet. Mostly. There was still the question of why those kids were there and who the two stooges with them were. For all he knew, it could have been nothing. Maybe it was a playdate or whatever kids do nowadays. Maybe bigfoot and knifejaw were friends of the drunk and one thing lead to another. Maybe the man was being a scared pussy cat and this was all one huge coincidence.

Maybe he'll wake up as Napoleon, stirring from a coma after being shot in Waterloo.

If the man was anything, he was a poker man. And if he learned anything at all from all his games, it was never put all your chips on a maybe. The fact that Blue was even there at all lined up way too much to be mere coincidence. And the fact that these new dark horse players were at the table only made him nervous. He was confident that they were too late to stop his schemes, just like he was when he thought that hand would win that day.

He wasn't taking any chances. Not this time.

"Beldam, it's high time we made a few amendments to our contract."

FWoaB

Wyborn giving their addresses to home was all the talking between the group for much of the ride. Aches, pains, and fatigue made it difficult for anyone in the Challenger to drum up the energy for too much conversation. It wasn't much better for Coraline, with a bruised cheek and sore back keeping her from moving, much less talk. That doesn't stop her curiosity and concern from rising. If there was any doubt that the Beldame was back, it was gone. Fear was rising in the back of her mind, threatening to drown her in their dark currents. She feared for Alexis, who was likely caught in the Beldame's predatory web. She feared for Wyborn, who had thought he was risking groundation to help her, only to learn about the far more dangerous game at play. She also feared for her parents, blissfully unaware of the returning threat to their lives. She had dragged them in her vendetta. Coraline felt this. Coraline knew this. She knew the Beldame would come for her soon, and nothing was going to stop her. She knew, better than most, what the monster would do if anyone got between them. Coraline knew what to do and the risks of doing so. The question now was how.

"So," she heard from the older man, shaking her back to reality. The man, 'Dean' from what she heard from the taller man, was looking at her from his rearview. It wasn't so much a scowl that was on his face as a look of focus. "Someone care to tell me what happened back there? Why was that guy beating on you two?"

Coraline looked to Wyborn, who was still nursing a sore throat and staring out his window. Even if he wasn't, he didn't seem that much up for talking. She noted his behavior throughout the drive but decided to save it for later. "Misunderstanding," was all Coraline said before returning her focus on the passing buildings. It was starting to get dark, meaning her curfew was dangerously close to coming and going. At the pace they were going, it will be close, but the faster they could get home, the faster she could put this day behind her.

"Hell of a misunderstanding, kid," he retorted in a huff, "Never seen anyone act like that unless you two did something stupid. What, were you trying to sneak out with something that doesn't belong to you?"

"It was nothing like that, and don't call me 'kid'," she said, crossing her arms in indignation.

"Or me," Wyborn chimed in hoarsely.

'Dean' raised an eyebrow to her and Wyborn. He wasn't expecting such a tone, but he wasn't surprised. Being on the losing end of a fight can touch a nerve, and his accusation, even if it wasn't wrong, didn't help. He could have easily pulled the adult card and gave them the riot act, but he just took a deep breath. "Well, it's not like we had an introduction. Yet." He left the statement open, trying to get their names. Wyborn was still staring out the window quietly, his posture has not changed for most of the ride. She simply stared at him, her face letting him know that she wasn't biting. The whole "Stranger Danger" thing was not lost on her and thought the help was appreciated, she wasn't just going to open up that easily.

The man just gave another huff. These kids were smart, he'll give them that. He looks towards the taller man and, seeing him floundering, turned around and faced both of them directly. "Alright, let's just start over. My name is Sam. Excuse Dean, he could be cranky when he gets his butt handed to him." Dean simply turned to him and scowled, making Coraline chuckle a bit without realizing it, killing any tough girl act she was going for. Sam held his hand out with an honest smile.

Coraline looked the hand for a moment and then at him. There was only a moment of hesitation before she just shrugged and quickly shook his hand. "Coraline," she said with a weary smile. She winced a little from the pain she felt, but she thought she hid it well.

Sam turned his attention to the boy behind him. Wyborn's mood has not changed much since leaving Duprees, but he pulled his attention from the window just long enough to give a dignified handshake. "Wyborn," he said, voice still hoarse from the choking given earlier, "And thank for the help back there." Coraline knew him long enough to know that something was still eating at him from the lack of feeling in his voice. She made a note to ask about that later.

"Sure," Sam said. "We're just glad no one was seriously hurt."

"Yeah, glad to help," Dean stated, "but I would still like to know what you two were doing there."

Coraline smile faded as she quickly processed her answer. She already knew that the truth was out of the question. Between her parents, Wyborn, and the episode with Alicia's father, the truth seemed to cause more trouble than help. No one but Wyborn, and maybe his grandmother, as actually believed her and there is no way a couple of strangers will either. There was no point to being deemed crazy by people she didn't know.

"We were visiting a friend for a study session. Nothing special," Coraline replied with the same lie she and Wyborn fed Dupree. Better to stick to the same story to keep it from unraveling.

"There was another kid there?" Sam inquired. Something about the way he asked bothered Coraline. The tone was less of a concerned citizen and more of a tv cop show. Her mom uses that tone when she thinks Coraline did something wrong. He was interrogating them, fishing for any information about something. Coraline wondered about that but again kept her defenses up.

"She was, but she had gone to the store before the whole thing started with her dad," she answered. It was mostly true, Alexis had left before the scuffle. Before they arrived too, but they didn't need to know that until she knew their deal.

"Well," Dean started as he looked at her through the rearview, "I've been around mean drunks, so I know the feeling. Still sucks."

"Has that guy ever done that before?" Sam asked as soon as Dean finished.

More questions? the girl thought before answering, "Don't know. This is our first time meeting the guy."

"Wait, so you've never been in that house before? Even though you're friends with the girl?"

"She never invited us over," 'Not that she really had much reason to, since she barely knew us. "I guess now we know why. We hardly did anything, and that guy just went crazy!" Coraline anger rose as she remembered the assault. It took a count of ten and a few happy thoughts to quell the frustration, then she turned her attention back towards the two up front.

She noticed Dean gave a brief look to Sam but said nothing. Coraline began to feel a pit in the stomach as if she might have said too much and they were catching on to the half-truths. Luckily, she wasn't alone, as Wyborn looked at her with a raised eyebrow before looking back out the window. It took only a second before he perked up.

"Um… excuse me. We are coming up on our houses now," Wyborn stated, his voice returning to mostly normal. Coraline looked out the window again and noticed that they were back on their side of Ashland and began slowing down. They were still a couple of blocks from home, but Coraline figured that he was trying to prevent a long conversation at home about being dropped off by strangers, which she appreciated.

They stopped in front of a house that was just around the corner from the children's bus stop. It wasn't even a ten seconds before Wyborn opened the door and made his way to the trunk to grab the bikes, with Coraline not too far behind. Through her soreness, which she had forgotten about up until now, reminded her of the evening she had. She tried not to aggravate the bruises that she knew she had as she slid across the back seat and out the door at roughly the same time Sam came out. She stopped for just a second, allowing Sam to pass her so that he may help her friend. The both of them looped around to the trunk just as Wyborn managed to get the bikes most of the way out and Sam gave him a hand with Coraline's bike as Wyborn grabbed his own. Coraline got a brief glimpse of the annoyance on Wyborn's face before Sam addressed them both. "Are you sure that you two are alright? We can take you up close to home if you want."

"We're near our bus stop, so we know the way," Coraline said before put her hand out, "Thank you for the help back there." Sam put out his hand in return and shook her hand with a warm smile. After he released her hand, he then turned to Wyborn with the same gesture. The boy was more hesitant, but a glare from Coraline quelled any misgivings and they both shook. Sam seemed to notice the hesitation, but he took it in stride. The younger brother turned to the passenger side and quickly hopped in and rolled down the window.

"If you two run into trouble like that again," Dean belted from in the car as Sam handed Coraline a card, "just give us a ring. But try to be smart enough to stay out of trouble, ya hear?"

"Yes, sir," the children said in unison. A quick wave and a goodbye later, the blue Challenger drove off, disappearing around the corner two blocks down. They taxied their bikes down the road towards the Pink Palace in silence at first, a number of thoughts going through their heads. For Coraline, the most important thoughts were the disappearance of Alexis and the terrifying implications. Alexis hadn't been gone all day, that she knew for sure. The girls also knew that this could not be her first visit since she knew the Beldame's song. However, there were still questions that Coraline couldn't shake. If Alexis knew that the two were coming over, why go to the Otherworld now? Also, there was only one entrance that Coraline knew of, and she made sure every night that the door remained closed and locked. So how was Alexis able to get there? Did the creature have other hideouts? Coraline didn't notice any other way in and out of her world. Heck, her world didn't even extend so far that it could reach Alexis's home in the real world, not even going as far as the well before breaking down. Maybe the cat knew since he's been finding ways in and out for a long time. Now that Coraline thought about it, it has been a while since she last saw the fleabag. Admittedly, she hadn't gone out of her way to find the cat in some time, but she would have at least thought that he would be hanging around the Palace or playing with Wyborn.

Coraline turned to her friend to ask about the cat, but her questioned stopped in her throat as she saw Wyborn's face. He was deep in thought like she was just a second ago, but he was far more somber about it. Disappointment radiated from him as he was muttering something under his breath. This wasn't the first time Wyborn had an uncharacteristic expression on him today, but now Coraline was kinda worried about her friend. She took a deep breath and tapped his shoulder. Luckily, he didn't jump out of his shoes by being forced out of his head and back to reality, but he did turn to her quickly as if forgetting she was there. "Hey, are you alright?" She asked softly.

"W-what? Me?" Coraline had a retort for that, but she held onto it and let the answer come to him. "Oh, right. Of course me. Who else? I'm fine, though. Just still a bit sore, that's all. Well, who wouldn't be after having our butts handed to us like-"

"Wybie, you know that's not what I meant," Coraline stated, stopping just short of Palace's driveway. "I mean you've been acting kind of weird lately, and not the normal kind of weird."

"Um," he started, avoiding Coraline's eyes as he contemplated his answer. Coraline was about to call him out on it, but he answered before she could, "I was just thinking about how we were going to explain the bruises and that to our folks," he pointed to the sky and Coraline followed his finger. The sky was a darker blue from earlier with barely any light left. And then she remembered her curfew and gave a grimes. It wasn't completely sundown yet, but she was cutting it dangerously close. Close enough to make a lecture from her parents about keeping a closer eye on the time unavoidable. Knowing Wyborn's grandmother, she figured that he wasn't avoiding one either. The small sighting of blood in Wyborn's nose, however, brought up a bigger issue.

"Wybie, you're hurt," she said. She tapped around her pockets to see if she had something to help him, but Wyborn quickly found a cloth in his back pocket. It was covered in grease, presumably from his bike chain, and began reaching for his nose. Coraline tried to grab the rag from him, but he held his hand up to stop her, pinching his nose. His eyes welled up from the stinging pain, but he held his nose without much fuss. "Is it broken?"

"Naw, it cool," He said, "must have happened when I fell off my bike."

"But you-"

"Tried to catch you when you didn't notice that curve on our way back, but we both took a tumble. Right, Coraline Jones?" He said in a forced tone, giving a wink as he did. It took a second for her to process what he was saying, but she gave a quick glance at her house and it clicked. A quick stinging from her bumps and bruises also made her agree with his cover story. It surprised her how quickly he came up with it and gave him a smirk. Wyborn noticed and gave an awkward smile in response. "I learned from the best."

They both turned to the Palace and they both closed the distance to Coraline's door. "So, what do we do now?" Wyborn asked and Coraline turned towards him again. "I mean, now we know that Alexis is being tricked by the Beldame, and honestly, I don't blame her. What are we going to do about it?"

"Simple. We find a way the Other World, save Alexis, and we make sure that the Beldame doesn't come back. Ever," her darkening expression escaped Wyborn's noticed as he contemplated her plan.

"Oh, yeah, why didn't I think of that. 'Nother question, and feel free to take just a bit more time with the answer." He paused, making it clear in his expression that it was for dramatic effect, "How?"

Coraline thought about it but really didn't have an answer. She knew the Beldame had to be stopped, but she knew from her last encounter that that would be a tall order.

000000

"Were you buying any of that?" The Challenger barely turned the corner from the kids drop off spot before Sam broke the silence. Now that the adrenaline buzz has died down, Dean became increasingly sore, but Sam saw that he was trying to hide it.

"Can't lie, kids' got a pretty decent poker faces," Dean said as he tore down the empty street. "Give the girl another few years, and she could probably clean a few tables. But yeah, she's definitely playing it close."

"Not that you acting all grumpy helped. It's not like you haven't lost a fight before."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said, dismissing Sam's comments. He was still not thrilled that the fight with Dupree and preferred to not think about it. "You heard what she said though, right? The guy's daughter wasn't there when we arrived, and I highly doubt she went to the store."

"You snuck out the house all the time to… 'go to the store,'" the accusatory sound of it made Dean glare at his brother a bit, before turning back towards the road.

"That's different and you know it, Sammy," the annoyance in Dean's voice only made Sam chuckle harder. "Seriously. The store was too far away to walk, her bike was still there. And Blue said she talked to Alexis yesterday. I willing to bet that she wasn't there when the kids arrived either."

Sam thought about his brother's statement and figured out what Dean was saying. "Whatever we are hunting might already have her. Meaning we don't have much time before what happened to her happens to her father if we're not too late already." Sam shifted in his seat and grabbed his pad. He leafed through the pages until he found a list of names he had gotten from the hospital. "We should look into these other families, see if we can't fill in some blanks before heading back to Dupree's."

"We need to keep an eye on two kids as well," Dean added. Sam handed the address of most recently confirmed victim as he nodded in agreement, "That little episode in that house? I don't think it's over."

Wow, it feels good to finally get this out to you all. Can't believe how long it took just to get this on the road. I haven't seen Supernatural in a while so I will need to get a feel for the characters before I really dive into this again, but I promise that I will not make y'all wait for as long as I did. It's crazy, I have an idea what I want for this story and where I want it to go, I just struggle to get it down on paper. I want to see this through, but what little time I manage to find seems to find itself in Monster Hunter World.

That explains a lot.

*sighs* Ya know, I saw this coming, but I still wasn't looking forward to it. Hello, Crowley.

Oh, don't be like that. We're friends, remember? All the good times we had?

You mean like how you had your fleabag chase me all over the place?

Aw, yes. Such fond memories.

Screw you, Crowley. Anyways, thank you again for sticking around for so long. Most of you probably moved on to bigger and better things in life and better stories, but I'm glad that what I gave you thus far entertained you in one way or another. I don't know when my next chapter will be or where life will take me, but I will continue to write and be creative either way. That is a promise.

This is the Scorpion, signing out.