John Winchester liked to look of the old Victorian house he pulled up in front of. It was worn and cared for, unassuming and mysterious. Also, if you looked closely enough, you could see etchings of protection all over it.

The boys were just glad to be out of the car. It had been a long ride from Kansas to Arizona, but Missouri told him that if he wanted to know what she couldn't tell him, the Naylors were who to see and he definitely couldn't stay in Lawrence.

Cal Naylor was waiting for them when the arrived. He was an older man, not particularly distinguished in his late fifties, but he couldn't complain as he still had all of his hair. He lived in the Naylor House with is son and his wayward daughter's girls. They weren't a prominent family, but they held their own allure in certain circles.

He led the Winchesters into the house and the three were waiting near the bottom of the staircase. He waved the boys over and nodded to the girls. "Sam, Dean, these are my granddaughters Farah, Cassie, and Faith. Why don't you kids go upstairs and play while we grown-ups have a chat."

The girls were about fourteen, twelve, and four, all chubby-cheeked and all red-heads of varying shades, the youngest being a blonde with only a touch of red in her curls. She darted forward and grabbed Sammy by the hand. "You can come play with me." Sam's eyes went wide in surprise and she yanked him toward the stairs. "I'm not gonna bite you- Pop says I'm not allowed!"

The older children followed more slowly and Cal led John into the parlor, specially designed for people who had no idea what real psychics were. "So, you're wife was killed three, four years ago. What do you know about what did it?" Cal asked before they were even comfortable seated.

John liked that he didn't waste time. "Not much," he admitted.

Cal ran a hand over his mouth and back under his chin. "Well," he drawled after a moment, "you're sure in this shit, aren'tcha?"

"Seems like," John agreed. "You see anything?"

He shook his head slowly. "Yellow eyes… high level sumbitch. Can't see too much of him, but there ain't much to see. You are one fucked hunter."

"How do I find it?"

"Oh, you don't," he chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Not if you don't want to die. But, you kinda do, so… I guess I can set ya on his trail. It's not gonna be an easy find though. That's for damn sure." There was a thud upstairs and one of the kids started screaming. John and Cal ignored it. "You'll be lucky to piece this together in twenty years."

John thought a moment then asked, "But I'll kill it?"

The screaming continued and Cal finally looked up at the ceiling. "Of all the damned times…" he muttered as they heard someone barreling down the stairs.

"Pop, Faithy won't stop screaming," Cassie said hurriedly before dashing back. John and Cal hurried after her, Cal taking the stairs two at a time.

"What happened?" Cal demanded, noticing the overturned tea table.

"Nothing!" Farah insisted, trying to hold onto her sister. "She was playing with Sam then she twitched and started screaming."

Faith howled, more from fright than actual pain, but she was inconsolable and refused to be held by her sisters. She ran to John when he appeared in the doorway, wrapped her arms around his leg, and sobbed into his jeans.

"Girls, take Sam and Dean downstairs," Cal instructed. He knelt down and gently pried his granddaughter off John's leg. "Baby girl, what's the matter?" he asked gently. She rubbed her eyes and sobbed louder. He stared in amazement. "Did you see something?"

She nodded. "The Demon with Yellow Eyes!" she sobbed. "He's planning a war and human's are going to be the soldiers. He's amassing thousands of psychics to fight on the side of Hell. They're all normal people, but he'll turn them one by one and make them do horrible things, and the only way to stop them is to kill them." She sobbed a bit harder. "And nothing can kill him except the Colt."

"What the hell's the Colt?" John muttered as Cal quieted his granddaughter.

"It's a myth," he muttered in return.

"And I saw Sam," the little girl said, hiccupping slightly as she wiped her cheeks dry.

It was John's turn to stare in amazement. "What did you say?"

"Sam's one of them," she said, looking up at him, something in her eyes far older than four. "If he becomes evil, he'll be lost forever… just like all the others."

That was the day John made it Dean's purpose to watch out for his little brother.

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Author's note: I may have more if anyone's interested.