Dean POV

I wondered sometimes, if I should have called after I dropped her at the hospital that night. It was weird, seeing her again after all this time, I'd be lying if I said I didn't remember her. I wasn't angry at her, like she seemed to think. I wasn't hurt. If anything, it taught me that you cant always help someone if they're greiving. Sometimes you just have to be there and let them lash out. Katie saying she was sorry, and that she didn't mean it, reinforced that. People need to vent, and sometimes harsh words at strangers were their way of doing things, someone yelling at you didn't mean you had to give up, it was just part of the job.

Calling her though, checking up on people and bringing flowers or grapes to the injured, that just really wasn't my style. Seeing them again after you gank the ghoul just did't happen. I usually didn't give them a second thought. I'd helped her limp out of the bowling alley. Carried her in the front doors of the emergency room and left it to her and her brother. The idea of keeping her details incase he needed a hand on a job wasn't a bad one but you need to keep in contact with someone for that. I was never really one for long distance friends, or friends for that matter.

Something in me though, something was calling to me. I always felt I should see her again or call her, since she'd given me her number. The feeling sneaking up on me during a particularly difficult hunt, sometimes in the dead of night when it was just me and my thoughts. Sometimes when I was in a bar, and picking up some waitress or hustling some pool didn't tickle my fancy that night, she was there.

I still don't know if it was instant attraction that had caused it of if I was simply yearning for a friend and she had presented herself as the perfect candidate. She was a hunter herself and therefor knew my day job, she was the older sibling so she had that in common with me and there was just something about her. Something completely unnatural that called out to him.

"Hello?" she answered after just a few rings.

"Katie, it's Dean," I started.

Main POV

I walked into the diner, Lex trailing behind me, grumbling as he went. I saw him, instantly, and I knew it was him. He was perched on a stool in a red flannel, drinking coffee. I hopped up on the fake leather stool and smiled at the waitress.

"Hey," I said and her turned to me. The waitress brought me a cup and poured some coffee in before walking off again. Lex slumped onto a stool on my other side and plugged his headphones in, completely ignoring us.

"Hey," said Dean, in his rough, gravelly voice. His eyes sparkled a little with mischief. "Been a long time."

"Yeah it's been a while," I replied. "What happened? Is everything alright?" Even with the light in his eyes, I found myself asking. Something seemed a little off, like he wasn't saying something. Perhaps he was calling in a favour after the incident he'd saved me from.

"Is your leg better?" he asked, skipping over my questions and looking down at my outstretched knee as I sat on a stool next to and facing him, heels pressed up against the footrests.

"It's been over a year, I'm fine," I replied, internally rolling my eyes.

"..Well that's good," he replied gruffly. "Listen I have a favour to call in."

"What do you need?" I asked and then glanced over at my brother who was busy stuffing his face with fries he'd ordered while I wasn't looking. He was studying now, as he munched, so that was good. Usually he complained about it.

"I've got a case of Wendigo, or black dog maybe, but I'm pretty sure it's a Wendigo and I need some extra hands on taking this thing down," Dean answered. "The kids of the family that owns the land and some of their friends went up there a while ago and came back all stirred up, talking about what they'd seen. Some hikers went missing up there too. It's been happening over decades from what I can tell with the pattern I've strung together. But with my dad out of town doing his own job I need some extra hands."

"If it is a Wendigo, they're lucky to be alive. Can I see what you've got so far?" I asked flipping through the menu.

"What? you don't trust me?" he laughed.

"You know what I mean," I shook my head. "Two sets of eyes are better than one."

"I'll meet you back at the motel later," he said and dropped some bills down on the counter. I turned to my brother, deciding against staying and eating and just paying for what we had ordered. I told him once we were back in the car that we'd go by a DVD rental and get some stuff for him to do while I was gone. He grumble again, telling me he didn't need baby sat by me or the TV and he'd be just fine on his own. We still went though and he picked out some cartoons. Some adult there.

"How good are you at IDs?" I asked Dean over the phone as I pointed to particularly good new release movie that Alex instantly screwed his face up at and moved along to the next isle.

"There's nobody better," Dean replied smugly and I rolled my eyes.

"Good," I returned. "We should go talk to these kids. Find out exactly what they saw."

An hour later, after I'd booked my own room in the same motel and Lex and I had shifted our stuff into it, I'd left him to all his big kid activities. I squatted next to the door of the room Dean had texted me and I currently was trying to pick the lock. He was the one who told me to swing by. Eventually I managed to get it unlocked and stood, twisting the handle and stepping inside. He hadn't quite noticed, he was deeply engrossed in whatever he was reading. I smirked.

"House keeping!" I called jokingly. I laughed as watched him leap up to cover his duffle bag full of guns and he looked up at me. His panicked expression while quickly turned to one of annoyance and he gestured for me to shut the door.

"Damn it, Katie," he grumbled, sitting back down at the table.

"Oh hush you, just be thankful I got everything," I grinned, pulling a dress suit out of a garment back and laying it out on the bed. Alex came in the door, grumbling and closing it behind him before he made his way over to the table and sat down in a chair, slouching. Guess he'd decided to join us after all.

"Hey Alex," Dean grinned cheerily. Alex responded with a grunt before going through his bag and searching for more food. Thankfully, Dean shrugged off his attitude and went back to his notebooks.

"So," I asked sitting down. "You sure it's a wendigo?"

"Either that or a black dog, can't think of much else it could be. There are a few things that don't quite add up but I've got nothing, it's gotta be one of the two."

"Did you make up the fake badges?" I asked, uncrossing my legs and going back over to Dean's spare bed. I untucked my plaid shirt and started undoing the buttons, switching it out for a short sleeved, white, button down blouse. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, I'd caught the attention of Dean but shook it off. It was hardly surprising, and I wasn't too worried considering I wasn't stripping completely.

I bent down to grab my dress skirt and I also noticed my brother Alex glaring in the direction of where I last clocked Dean. I smiled and shook my head before lifting my unzipped skirt up over my head and dropping it down my body once I'd put my arms through. I hated the idea of being this far out in the middle of nowhere in a little pencil skirt, it was hardly practical, but if I was going to pass as an FBI agent as well as get people to trust and empathise with me I had to look the part. No 80s power suits.

"You look like a receptionist," Alex commented as I reached for my jacket.

"Thank, Lex," I muttered. "Don't skip the homework just because Dean and I will be out, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, stuffing a cookie in his mouth.

Dean and I were riding in his car, because, let's face it, he's not exactly passenger material. And my car, although a classic, was a little too gear-head to pass as FBI. His however, just looked classic but functional. A little out of the ordinary, but not enough to be suspicious. I leaned back against the seat, stretching my legs out. The silence, seemed slightly awkward. And it had been since I rolled in with the suits. I knew neither of us liked to dress like this, but it was a little ridiculous.

"Your brother got really pissy since last time I saw him," Dean commented, clearing his throat a little. The trees on the old road flew by us, I had no doubts that Dean was speeding, and by a lot. Can't say I was much different when I didn't have Alex in the car.

"He's a teenager," I replied with a shrug. "Just one too many My Chemical Romance songs I think."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Never mind, some young people's band," I brushed off, smirking slightly.

"We're young people," he argued.

"Dean, when was the last time you listened to something from this century?" I laughed. We rolled into the long, country driveway of the kids who'd narrowly escaped death on a camping trip. But, if I remembered anything from being a teenager, that was pretty much what life was like. We pulled up to the house as Dean scowled at me.

"I listen to good music, it doesn't matter the century," he argued and I snorted, getting out of the car. The same argument people who like Beethoven gave, I assumed. "What?"

"Nothing," I shook my head. "Let's go interview these guys so we can go back to the motel and change out of these stupid outfits," I replied and he hummed in agreement, the outfits were stupid. I tried not to stomp through the mud as we walked to the door, acting pissy wasn't going to get us answers, even if bad tempers made us look more like the real deal.

"You look good by the way," I commented, taking the old wooden steps up to the portch. I walked up to the weatherboard house and knocked on the hardwood door. It was true and maybe the ego boost would make him feel more comfortable in these dumb kicks.

"Hmm?" Dean gave me a funny look, like he didn't understand. He was acting stranger than he had since I'd gotten us into the FBI getup.

"The shirt and tie look, makes your arms look nice," I explained, he didn't have time to respond before the door opened up. A cranky looking southern woman in a cardigan answered the door. Her hair was sticking up in places and she scowled at me like she knew I was looking. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting for us to explain ourselves. I pulled out my fake badge and held it up to the insect screen. Dean did the same.

"FBI," I announced with confidence. "Are you the Wilkers?"

"Yeah," she eyed us suspiciously. 'Why do rednecks always act like they have a meth lab in the shed when I ask them questions?' "What if we are?"

"Well, we've heard recently your kids had an.. unusual experience in the woods," Dean explained, pausing on the unusual.

"Didn't think the FBI investigated ghost stories," the woman replied, almost laughing at us for being here.

"We're not sure it's a ghost story," Dean said. "We were hoping if we could talk to your kids, ask them a few questions. And if they could point us in the direction of the other kids involved."

"If it isn't a silly ghost story, what exactly do you think it was?" she asked in disbelief. She was staring me down like she thought I was the weaker link. Like she knew I wasn't FBI. She'd been eyeing me suspiciously since she'd opened the door.

"My partner and I have been tracking a killer. He started up in Kansas, slowly moving down the states till he got here. He lurks in the woods, toying with his victims, usually campers, for a few days before he strikes. A few hikers, the occasional group of college kids have gone missing over the last few months and your boys accounts, they match his MO," I lied smoothly. I'd been doing this for years, she wasn't catching me out. "If you'd let us speak to your kids, we could confirm it, and catch him."

She glared at me for a few moments longer before nodding and stepping back rom the door. She looked at me expectantly for a moment. "Well, you comin' in or not?" she asked, making no move to get the door. I grabbed the handle and pushed it forward, stepping inside as Dean followed behind me.

"We appreciate you lending us some of your time, this won't take long," I said as I stepped inside her house, looking around. She huffed as we followed her. 'What could I have said wrong now?'

"Why you call it lendin' ain't as if I'll be gettin' it back," she replied calling up to her three boys.

"That's a fair point," I agreed. "Thank you then, for giving us your time, you're probably busy."

"I am," she responded curtly and then yelled up the stairs again. "Boys," she said when the three teenagers in varying ages finally came down the stairs. "These here people are from the FBI they've come to talk to you about that ghost you saw in the woods. This is Miss Lucy and that's John. Be quick about it."

"It wasn't a ghost!" the youngest yelled and received a firm look from his mother. He was a blonde kid, freckles all over his small face, wearing a red t-shirt far too big for his lanky frame. A hand me down, I assumed.

"Why are you out hunting bigfoot anyway?" the eldest asked. He was a brunette, built and looked like a footballer.

"There's uh," Dean started but then paused. "We think he's not paying his taxes," he joked, finally returning to his usual charming self. I don't know where his brain walked off to while Molly the Moggy was trying to eat me for breakfast, but the future cat lady finally left us to it now that he did have more personality than a wooden spoon.

"Hikers've been going missing for a while now, we're wondering if they weren't quite as lucky as you boys and the other kids," I added in. "We're not so sure it was a ghost."

"See, I told you," the youngest said.

"They got homework to do, don't keep them long," their mother called down the stairs, leaving us with the kids. You think you'd be happier to hear your kids didn't get murdered.

"So," I started, heading over to the couch. "Where do we begin?"

"Let's start with why you were out in the woods, give us the full story, no matter how weird," Dean said as we sat down.

"Every detail is important, even if it seems crazy," I told them. They looked

"We went camping out in the woods over spring break, we'd always done it, but this year we wanted to get a bigger group involved. Don't tell out parents but," the middle kid, Joe, started but was shoved by the oldest of three, Marcus.

"You went out there to drink, party and generally have a good time?" Dean supplied.

"We're cops, not robots," I added when we received a shocked look from the boys. "Also we're not stupid, why else would a bunch of teenagers want to spend all night in a tent in the middle of nowhere."

"It's not as if you're out there because nature soothes you," Dean added.

"Okay, we invited some girls down too, thought we'd impress them, have a good time and then come back just before school," Marcus said.

"But when we were out there the first night things got weird," Joe explained.

"No," the youngest, Cody argued. "When we got there, there was this awful smell. It was like nothin' I ever smelled before."

"It was nasty," Marcus agreed.

"It was coppery, like blood right as you get a nose bleed but it didn't quite smell as fresh. It was rotting almost, someone though it was a skunk, like maybe we'd scared it with the amount of noise we were making coming up with all our stuff," Joe explained, currently the most talkative of the three.

"We set up out tents, got all the gear out, just chillin' before any of us started anything for dinner or broke out the alcohol," Marcus said, resting his chin on his hands, elbows on his knees, thoughtful expression on his face.

"There was probably ten of us there that night, three to a tent and four in the last one. At dinner we got out the booze, fire already roaring, we'd been drinking which was why we first dismissed the figure standing just off in the trees. Just a trick in the shadows. You can't just go around assuming every shadow is an axe wielding psycho waiting to kill you," Joe told us and I nodded, noting down that the thing let off a bad smell, showed up around nightfall, possibly attracted by noise or the fire.

"It was when I looked around I noticed, there was now eleven of us around the fire but as I looked around, I couldn't really spot anyone who wasn't supposed to be there. It wasn't until I noticed an identical version of Cody sitting across the fire, all jerky and twitching like that I thought there was a problem. I wasn't thinking right, I just stood up and yelled at it, 'hey you!' I threw my beer bottle at it and it freaked out. It was jumping and twitching all the faster now and it looked at us, said in almost the same way I said it 'hey you!' but it was distorted. It was wrong, inhuman almost," Marcus said and I nodded.

"Weird," I commented, writing down that it copied the victim's appearance but wasn't exact. I noted down, jumpy and twitching. Irregular voice sounds.

"You sure this is your killer?" Marcus asked and I nodded.

"Sounds just like him," I replied, looking over my notepad.

"What happened then?" Dean asked, leaning over his knees slightly, listening intently.

"It seemed to just disappear, we were all looking, but none of us saw it go, it kind of jumped off the log it was sitting on but then it disappeared, almost howling a little, like a wounded animal. We thought that it was just imagination, what could get away that quickly, how did it just disappear?" Joe asked questions like we were supposed to know the answers. We didn't even know what it was, but after the kid's story, it certainly wasn't a wendigo. It couldn't have been, the voice copying it did was seamless, none of them mentioned a hunching figure, now much taller, faster and stronger than a human but still vaguely looking like one. Black dog? I wasn't sure.

"It came back later that night, the girls were getting all upset, refusing to go to sleep without at least a guy in each tent. Something we really didn't protest too much, turned out to be a good thing. Most us boys down here carry knives. For hunting and stuff. Wasn't for Marcus stabbing the thing, we wouldn't have got away," Cody explained and I nodded.

"What happened when you stabbed it?" I asked, turning to Marcus.

"It let out that howling noise it made. It was huge," Marcus explained only to be joined by Cody, who was probably 14, maybe 15.

"It went from looking like one of the girls this time to being a tall figure with a goats head," he said, sure of himself.

"Shut up," Marcus almost growled at his younger brother.

"A goats head?" I asked, surprised and Dean quirked a brow.

"I told you they wouldn't believe us," Joe said, shaking his head.

"Anything else unusual about his appearance?" I asked, writing down what they said.

"You, you believe us?" Joe stuttered.

"This guy's a real psycho," I replied with a nod.

"What'd you see?" Dean asked, waiting to hear anything else crazy about the kid's story.

"He just looked like a guy but he was burly, he was tall and had the head of a goat," Marcus described and we nodded.

"Anything else about this night you guys want to tell us?" I asked, moving to close up my notebook.

"Just that we high tailed it home after Marcus stabbed him and we came back the next morning in our dad's truck to clear out our stuff. Our cooler had been raided, almost like a bear had been at it, but that's crazy," Joe said.

"We'll be looking into this," I said, getting up from the sofa.

"Thank you for sharing your story with us," Dean followed me towards the door.

"We'll be in touch if we catch him," I said, pocketing the notebook.

"Oh, we'll catch him," Dean said adamantly and we headed back out to the car, letting ourselves out.

"A fucking goat's head?" I asked, once we were inside his Impala and driving back out down the driveway.

"The claw marks on the cooler though, that sounds like a wendigo, the fact it destroyed the camp," Dean said eyes on the road.

"There are so many details though, that say something else," I countered, quickly texting out what I found to Alex who usually did my research for me through our parent's old notebooks.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, looking down at my lap where I was copying out my notes into my phone.

"Texting Lex," I replied. "He can check my notebooks while we head back and get dinner. We can take it from there once we get to the motel."

"Good plan, I didn't want to be sitting in a pile of dusty books this evening," Dean explained. "Hey why'd you wear that skirt?"

"Women in power suits look cold, kind of bitchy, you wear the right skirt and the right smile, people trust you more. Give up more information," I explained. Though I preferred pants, they sometimes came across as hostile.

"So not to show off your ass then," he replied, looking down at my exposed thighs.

"Dean it's a pencil skirt, don't act like you've never seen one before," I shook my head. "Sure it's not practical but it got the job done."

"Sure, whatever," he shook his head, turning his attention back to the road. Most of the drive back though, there was an occasional glance back at my thighs. Jesus he needed to get laid.