We performed the tracking spell and found her location.

"Well," Crowley started. "Let's go get her. I'll meet you there. Angel boy, you take Moose." Castiel squinted casually, disagreeing with Crowley.
"She's a powerful Archangel. She probably already knows that we performed that spell. She'll expect us and she might not be happy about it. We can't just go in there expecting her to understand our current situation. We must be prepared, or risk being killed."
Crowley frowned, raising his eyebrows, seemingly dumbfounded. There was an uncomfortable and awkward silence that lasted a few seconds before he said anything.
"I didn't think of that."
"Of course you didn't." I said. "You never do. You just think: 'Oh, I'm gonna do this and it's gunna happen just the way I want it to.'" I said, pretty much mocking every plan Crowley ever had.
"I agree with Cas. We can't just walk up to her and expect her to let us in and offer us tea. We need a plan A and a plan B just in case. We can come up with plan A on the drive there. For now, let's just pack some weapons and get prepared. Then we can go." With those last words Cas and I teleported back to the motel, packing the few things we didn't have in the Impala and got in. We arrived first at Starbuck's, searching for my missing laptop that somebody didn't have the sense to take with them when I wasn't there.

It was a seemingly short drive back to the bunker. By the time we arrived there it was extremely late again, and I was exhausted. I was very tempted to flop down on my bed when I strode into my room but I didn't, even though the urge to sleep was pounding in my head and making it hard to concentrate. I grabbed yet another duffel bag and began to stuff all kinds of weapons in it. Guns and blades of every kind were sticking out of all the pockets by the time I was done. I returned to the entryway and flopped the bag into the table. I looked up, and there was a very intense stare down happening between Castiel and Crowley.
"Hey, Cas." He turned to me, breaking eye contact with Crowley. "We don't have angel handcuffs. We gotta make a pair. In case something happens." We started the new project. It didn't take long at all, all Cas did was burn some Enochian symbols into a pair of handcuffs and some chains. It took about 15 minutes, most of that time was used in researching the type of symbols we needed to use, after that we were ready to go.
"Shotgun." Crowley called, as if he knew he was going to get it when we approached the Impala.
"Nope. You're in the back, Cas is shotgun. I need to keep an eye on you." I said as we all got in and I started the clean, shiny black car. It made the familiar rattle as it always did, and I pulled out of the driveway.

"So. How are we going to do this?" I asked to anyone that had an answer to give.
"Well, I was thinking we find a nice old abandoned building and put the chains in there. Hook it all up, and chain her up if she doesn't want to talk." Crowley said as if he had the entire plan down pat. It actually sounded pretty good to me even though it came out of someone when never thought things out.
"Okay. That sounds alright. Cas, what direction are we going?" Castiel opened a map, spreading it out on his lap and smoothing it out.
"North. Michigan is up by Canada, but doesn't quite reach it. Newaygo seems to be a small city, it's just barely a dot on the map. It's not as far as it looks."

It was barely a two hour drive and when we did arrive there I was ready to crash. Again. The caffeine buzz was gone from all the cups of coffee I had drank on the drive there to keep myself awake. We drove on yet another half an hour until we realized that no one ever visited Newaygo so they didn't have hotels or motels.
"Just sleep in the car. It won't hurt for just one night." Crowley said. I slept in the Impala that night.

I woke up with Castiel shaking me. I tried to roll over, not realizing that I was still in the car and my head hit the cold window which woke me up momentarily.
"Sam." I blinked, trying to see straight. It didn't help much.
"What? Where are we?" I asked groggily. It took me a few seconds to catch up on what had happened the other day. I woke up a little bit more when the smell of something burning caught my attention.
"What the hell is burning?" I asked, slightly panicking. I looked around, trying to find the source of the smell but something glowing off of Castiel caught my eye. An orangish aura emitted off of him and the edges of his trench coat were burning off.
"What-?" I asked, completely confused.
"It's not me." Castiel said, trying to calm me down. "She's here, I don't know if she knows that we're here, but it's her power that's doing this. She must be close by. Crowley and I- we searched the town. It's isolated, nothing can get out, but things like us can get in."
Out of the corner of my eye I saw some movement and I turned to look out the window. A girl was walking down the sidewalk; she looked like she was 18 or 19 years old. She had blonde hair down past her shoulder blades. She wore a dark pair of jeans, they weren't quite black, but they were dark. She was wearing a matching colored sweatshirt along with a comfortable looking pair of boots. She was walking across the street from us and she stopped directly across from us then continued on, looking a bit disturbed.
"That's her." Cas said, not moving at all.
"Uh- are you sure? She looks pretty normal to me." I said.
"I'm quite sure that's her. If I wasn't then I wouldn't say that was her." He replied, looking a bit confused.
"Blah, blah, blah. Let's go talk to the High School teachers." I jumped slightly in surprise at the sound of Crowley's voice.
"Teachers?" I asked. "She looks to old to be going to school." I said, turning around to face him and brushing off the jumpy feeling I had.
"She goes to school alright. She's a senior and she graduates in two months." I must've given Crowley a strange look because he rolled his eyes.
"I possess for information, not looks." He said to me. I turned away from him, shaking my head.
"Well... that's not entirely true." He thought out loud.
"Alright. What's our next move?" I asked, cutting out Crowley's thoughts. He gave me a strange look.
"If you weren't talking over me, you would've heard me say that we should visit the High School. Apparently you weren't listening." I rolled me eyes.
We couldn't just walk into the high school and expect them to answer our questions about someone we have no information about. I left the car, bringing my suit with me and searched for a nice place to change. It wasn't very private but it didn't really matter to me.
I tightened my tie up and slipped my badge into my left breast pocket. I tucked in my shirt and tightened me belt, approaching the Impala that contained Castiel and Crowley.
"Got your badge?" I asked Cas as I got in. He looked at me for a second then squinted. He frantically began patting each of his pocket on his trench coat, searching for the fake badge I had made for him just over a year ago. It was a 3 second scare until he finally reached into one of them and pulled out the leather wallet, opening it to make sure it was the right thing he was looking for. Cas was all set, but what about Crowley? I turned to him raising my eyebrows questioningly.
"I'll be your private investigator you just happened to hire." He said, shrugging like it wasn't much of a problem. I left it at that as we headed off to Newaygo High School.

When we arrived, I pulled up to the side of the incredibly long building. I let the engine run as I thought of what we had gone over during the short ride there. I was the one asking questions to the staff and principle. I took a sharp breath, killing the engine and slipping the keys into my pocket and stepping out of the car. I approached the school, small flashbacks can to my mind of me in high school, but I pushed them out. I walked past several large pillars that surrounded the entrance of the school and was halfway through opening the double doors when I heard a sudden 'oof' behind me and the footsteps behind me stopped. I spun around, expecting someone the have a hold of Cas or Crowley, but that wasn't the situation. Crowley couldn't seem to get past the pillars. It actually made sense, a powerful Archangel wouldn't want any demons snooping around the school she was in. Castiel was already looking for whatever it was that was preventing Crowley from passing. I stood there, supervising as Crowley complained about how slow Cas was or how stupid this was. Cas must've found what he was looking for because suddenly Crowley could move again, and he stepped through the pillars approaching the double doors and opening them.
"Obviously she doesn't want any of my type hanging around here." He stated, scowling slightly.

We entered the building, not taking long to look for the main office, mostly because it was directly on our right. I opened the office doors and approached the front desk where a chubby, white haired woman sat in what looked like a memory foam swivel chair. She didn't seem to know I was there, must have been distracted by the apple laptop she was typing away on. I cleared my throat to get her attention and she turned slightly to face us, probably expecting a student. She must not have been very interested in us, but she reluctantly turned in her chair, crawling up to the desk we were behind. She gave us a bored look.
"If you're here to sign a student out, here's the paper you gotta fill out." She pushed a clipboard and pencil toward me. I awkwardly pulled my badge out, showing her that I was F.B.I.
"Actually, I'm here to talk to the principal." I said. The woman's expression didn't change. She turned back to the laptop and pulled a clipboard out from underneath it.
"The principal is out sick. Here's the list." She handed me the clipboard and I glanced over it, reading a few of the names on it.
"Uh... excuse me?" I asked, completely confused. the woman rolled her eyes, and crawled back up to the desk.
"It's the list of all the kids that do drugs here. You're here for them, aren't you?" I raised my eyebrows, the list was really long.
"We're here to speak to the principle about one of the students. Their suspected for the murder of seven people." The woman's expression turned from boredom to surprise.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Like I said, the principal isn't in right now, but I'm sure you can talk to the vice principal." The old woman got up, pointing down a small hallway that was part of the office.
"She's all the way down and on the right." We followed her directions, which lead us to a closed door that had a small header that read: "Vice Principals Office." I knocked, not wanting to walk in rudely. There was a muffled "come in" and I opened the door. It swung inward on smooth hinges, and I stood looking for the voice that told me to come in. I almost missed her. She was sitting at her desk, and she was the shortest person I ever saw in my life. Despite how tall the chair was, I could only see above her collarbone, which was a little unnerving. Her eyes brightened and she gestured for me to sit down in the only chair that was across from her desk. I sat, uncomfortable already. The chair was meant for students, and I was much larger than a student. The woman folded her hands on the desk, leaning forward. She had long black hair that must've grown to at least down to the small of her back, it was pulled into a tight ponytail, and the hair was a terrible contrast to her face. She was obviously Mexican, but she talked with no hint of an accent.

"What can I do for you three?" She asked, cocking her head like she was hard of hearing.

"We're here to get some information on a student." The principal cocked her head to the other side.

"Do you mind if I ask why?"

"It's private information." She nodded, seeming to understand.

"What's his name then? I can tell you a lot about some of the kids here."

"It's a her. Her name is Summer Richardson." The sides of the vice principals mouth turned downward as I said her name.

"Summer? Well the only things that I can come up with right now is that she's a straight A+ student. She's working to be an actress, she's the most responsible person I've ever seen." It was expected that she would be that way, but I was still surprised.

"We need to know everything. Her files, her habits, anything you can find." She leaned back in her chair, looking out the window at the other busses that were arriving and letting students off.

"The best way for you to find that stuff out is if you ask her teachers. She's always talking to them, they know a lot more about her than anyone here I think. You can talk to some of the honors students too, they know some stuff about her."

The vice principal gave us her teachers names, and a few students for us to question. I thanked and left the office, Crowley and Castiel trailing behind me like little ducklings. We wandered the main hall. The hallways were congested with students of every size and look. There were a few that stuck out like sore thumbs, especially the emo ones. Everyone wore bright colors, and then there was the emo kids, their hair dark, strange colors, piercings covered their faces, lips and ears. They wore all black, and they eyed us cautiously. All three of us were taller than most of the students, there were two or three that could almost meet my eye by looking straight forward. I asked some of the students that looked less menacing where the teachers were, they pointed us down the same hallway, telling us specifically where to find what teacher. Our first teacher was Mrs. Bowman. Classes had yet to start, so the teachers were free to talk. I approached the door that had a sign hanging on it that said her name on it. I opened it, craning my neck to see if the was sitting behind her desk. She was and she hadn't noticed me yet. I knocked on the open door, and she looked up from the papers she was writing on.

"Oh, come in. I didn't see you there." We entered her room and I approached her desk where she sat. I looked around, unconscious of what Cas and Crowley were doing. There weren't any desks, but rather large black tables, there were three rows of four, and connected to every other table was a sink that had a whole bunch of knobs on it. It reminded me of the days when I had biology class. I hated that class, it was terrible for me, probably the worst subject I had. I pulled out my badge, and so did Cas.

"I'm agent Pratt, this is agent Graves." Cas flipped open his badge, and we showed her our F.B.I crests. I gestured to Crowley and was about to say something when he stepped in instead.

"I'm their private investigator, Michael Shepard. It's nice to meet you. . ?"

"Holly, Holly Bowman. What can I do for you?" I explained to her who we wanted to talk about and she got a sad expression.

"Well, if you want to know about her, sit down. There's a lot to tell." All three of us pulled up a stool from the tables and sat down.

"The first thing you might notice about her is that she's a little. . . depressed. She's been that way since her sophomore year, I think." I pulled out a pen and paper, and started jotting things down.

"Any idea why she might be depressed? Any family issues that might have caused it?" I asked.

"I don't really know anything about her family, she's never mentioned anything personal. But I've seen her around other kids, she doesn't talk a lot, when she does, she's ignored. We try to get her in some groups with other kids, but they refuse to work with her. She insists on working alone. I think maybe her depression is related to social situations. The other students seem to notice something different about her that us teachers can't point out. They bully her, and bullying isn't tolerated around here. It's not like underclassman to bully an upperclassman, especially one that's backed by the teachers and principal." She paused and then opened her mouth to say something else, but thought otherwise, and closed it again.

"Do you know where she lives? How she gets home?" I asked her, she seemed to know a lot about just one girl. Holly looked around, a nervous glint in her eyes.

"We're not really supposed to tell that, I could get fired for revealing the home of a student. She usually walks, but when she doesn't, she'll take the bus home, or drive. She walked this morning." She waited for another question as I wrote down a few things. Crowley spoke up instead.

"How are her grades? How is she around other people? Is she optimistic?" Holly's eyes brightened, as if she was proud to answer the new questions.

"I've never seen a student so hard working before. She does community service, she participates in all of the fundraisers our school holds. Her grades are amazing, she's never dipped below an A. She's very optimistic. I've seen her around other kids that accept her more than others, and she's very polite. She'll put their problems before hers, unless she can't put off an opportunity for her. She's a very sweet girl, very unique. She pops in every day before class to say hi and do favors. She's at least five weeks ahead of everyone in her class. I give her extra work when she asks for it. She's the best student I've seen in years." I flipped the page over, scribbling down a few more things.

"Does she hang out with anyone?" Holly nodded.

"Yes, Lilly Franklin and Tyler Johnson. Their both hardworking students too, a little careless, but hardworking. Their band students." I finished with the last word, then stood. Castiel and Crowley mirrored me.

"Thank you. We'll put your information to good use." I followed Castiel out the door, but halted when Holly called my name.

"Agent Pratt, is she in any trouble?" She looked a bit concerned. I shook my head.

"No, we're just here on official business. It's private, but she's in no trouble, there's no reason to worry."

We quickly stopped at all the other teachers on our list, they all said pretty much the same thing. One of them, Mr. Huntoon, managed to tell a bit more of her family.

"I've been told her parents got into a crash that killed them instantly, she doesn't have any family left, so she lives alone. That's all I know about her family or where she lives."

"Do you know when this happened?"

"I think her freshman year, but you'd have to check her files." We asked a few more questions, but his answers were the same as all the others. She was hardworking, depressed and very optimistic and generous. We left briskly, classes were starting and students began to flood the classrooms. Most of them made a wide berth around us, as if we were a disease. We headed back to the office, which was still vacant except for the one lady that was there when we first came in. We ignored her and filed into the vice principals office again. She still sat there, filling out papers like there was no tomorrow. She noticed us and smiled, asking me to sit down again. I didn't, we weren't there to talk, we were there to find out if any locals knew about her. The principal pointed us to the library, and wrote a few names down. We thanked her, and left. Crowley disappeared off to the library by himself, saying he was going to ask around. Me and Cas headed to the house of an old woman that lived off of the highway. It was a pretty secluded area, but it didn't bother me. We pulled into her driveway and approached her front door, knocking.

"Mrs. Woods? It's F.B.I. We'd like to talk." Me and Cas waited for almost three minutes and we were about to give up when the door opened. An woman with white hair and hundreds of wrinkles stood on the other side.

"Yes?" Her voice was quiet and she looked around nervously, as if afraid something would pop out of nowhere.

"We'd like to talk about a student from Newaygo High School. We've heard you've been in contact with her recently. Her name is Su-"

"No, no! Don't say her name out loud." She gestured us in quickly, and I glanced at Cas before we stepped in. She closed the door behind us, then wandered over to the windows and closed the shades. It got a bit dimmer in the room, and she led us over to a couch.

"Sit. We'll talk if you like." We sat on a really old looking leather couch. She sat in a deep green rocking chair across from us, then leaned forward, ready to answer any questions we had.

"I'm agent Pratt, and this is-"

"Agent Graves, I know. And I know those badges are fake, and I'd like to answer your questions." A feeling of dread rose in me, but I decided to not try exorcise her, it probably wasn't worth it, but I was a nervous.

"She has a house, so if you want to go snooping around there, be my guest. You won't make it out, though." I heard the leather squeak as Cas shifted in his spot, trying to get comfortable.

"What do you mean?" He asked her. I could hear an edge in his voice, but I couldn't quite point out what emotion it was.

"She's a special girl. I told her my issue with my husband, he was terribly sick. I hated to watch him suffer, I couldn't take it anymore. I prayed and prayed. She came to my door a few days after I started praying, and she told me that she heard my prayers and was there to help." We listened to her talk about her husband, how much she loved him and things like that. She paused and I asked her a question that was scraping at the tip of my tongue.

"Where's your husband? Surely she healed him." The old woman's blue eyes began to shine with a film of tears, and she looked out the window, despite the blinds being closed. Her silvery hair shielded her eyes and face, preventing me from seeing her expression. Guilt and sadness poured out of her, it was so strong I could almost see it.

"Her gift to me was to let him pass painlessly. She told me he was going to die like this and asked if I wanted to watch this happen again. She helped him pass over and then she left. I invite her over at times, sometimes she comes and sometimes she doesn't. She doesn't like me to tell strangers about her." Pity was the first emotion I felt, then there was realization. The girl, Summer, did her best to help relieve Mrs. Woods' suffering, and her own husbands.

"I have nothing more to tell, other than she's more than meets the eye. So be careful."