"Right behind you."

I smirked at the voice. He always came out when he knew there was going to be trouble. Out of habit, I reached for the necklace that hung around my neck. I tugged at the locket and smiled at the memory of when I got it. I turned my head the look at the man - well, not man, ghost. His hair was the same, light brown and tousled as always. And wearing the same faded flannel with the dark blue ripped jeans. The cowboy was looking around the rundown warehouse. His eyes held absolute confusion.

"Why the hell would the fae be here, Syl," Carson walked forward.

It was obvious he didn't trust this place. I didn't either. Too many man-made things and iron everywhere. Though, the place was empty for the most part. It seemed as though no one has been here in a few years. Weeds had begun to grow through the cracks in the ground.

Carson fidgeted like he did when he wanted to leave. "I think she was wrong about this. Nothing here feels right."

I nodded. "Yeah, it feels like every other place I've gone to."

If there were fae here, they didn't seem to hear her talking to herself. Carson seemed to only appear to her, not any other clairvoyants. It was a tad irritating, but I liked it. He was my ghostly friend and mine alone. I took a few steps forward, grabbing the gun I had placed inside the hem of my jeans. I checked to make sure they held my iron bullets. I hunched over, bending my knees as I walked up the unsteady stairs.

"Are you serious, Sly," Carson all but screamed. "This doesn't feel right. Turn back."

I scowled and rolled my eyes. "Just shut up."

At the top of the steps, there was a door. It was slightly ajar. I moved quickly and silently. I could hear Carson mumbling something about how stupid humans were. I gave a droll stare at his direction. You were human once. Still are for the most part. I shook my head as I inched toward the door. I heard a few voices talking quietly. I tried listening in.

"... I don't know... sister..."

"Come on... hard to believe..."

"Why?"

These voices weren't mesmerizing. They didn't sound like fae voices. Maybe the Queen was wrong. But that didn't sound right.

"They aren't fae."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. It took a minute to calm my heart down. I glared at Carson, who shrugged nonchalantly. I stepped in front of the door and shoved it open with my foot. My gun was already aiming at the closest person to the door. He stood up and raised his hands, a sign of surrender. Though, I knew it wasn't that easy. The one who stood had short cropped hair, tall though a bit compact with all that muscle, and wore a brown leather coat that had seen better days. I took a quick look at the others and scowled.

"What are you doing here," I asked. "It's not safe here."

"Obviously, you're holding a gun," the man shouted.

I let go the safety. "How about you quiet down before I make you?"

"Dean, listen to her," the tallest of the group said.

The other man, Dean, rolled his eyes and shook his head. He was muttering about how something was unbelievable. I looked over at the tall man. He seemed to have this look of sadness. I didn't understand why. The man had shaggy hair and was well over 6 feet tall.

"I'll ask again," I started. "What the hell are you going here?"

"We can ask the same," Dean said, obviously irritated.

"I'm... working. You?"

The tall one answered. "I'm Sam. Look, this might sound, uh, weird. But, what do you know about your family?"

I lowered the gun, letting the safety click back in place. I could feel Carson behind me. He was getting agitated. I turned my head slightly and looked at him. My hand returning to the locket. I knew he would understand. Carson dissipated and returned to the locket. I faced the men again.

"I have no family," I finally said.

Sam looked like he was a loss for words, but spoke anyway. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"I knew my mother until I turned seven. She gave me away when I told her I see ghosts and that my best friend is a faery. Well, she still is. I'm one of her assassins. I never knew my dad. Mommy dearest told me it was my fault. That I shouldn't have been born. My grandmother took me in until she died. Luckily, I was already 18. Great life, right?" I stared at each of their faces.

I noticed the other man in a beige trench coat and underneath he was wearing business suit. He stared intently at everything in the large room. He didn't seem to be listening or truly care as to why they were here.

"Well, guess what, honey," Dean's gruff voice broke the awkward silence. "Apparently, you're our little half-sister."

My eyes narrowed and I gave a bitter laugh. "Of course. Now, I suggest you leave. Carson feels like something isn't right here. So, I'm going to check it out."

"Not alone, you're not," Dean crossed his arms. "Sure, I don't know you well, but you're my little sister."

"Then where were you the last 23 years," I spat. "How can I trust you?"

"Did your mom ever tell you his name? His name was John Winchester," he said. "I bet he only stuck around for a few days and left your mom."

My nostrils flared. My heart raced as I tried to come up with something to say, but nothing ever reached my mouth. I turned on my heels and left the room. I heard someone curse and something fall. I stopped walking and went back to the room, glaring at each of them.

"You wanna help? Then shut the hell up," I said. "Do you have any iron on you?"

Sam and Dean looked at each other before shaking their heads. I sighed. I checked the room to see if there was anything iron.

"Why iron anyway?" Sam asked, searching with me.

I looked up and shrugged. "It's basically a poison to them. And, it's the best way to kill them."

"How'd you get into this, Syl?"

"I was 15 when I first saw the Queen. I don't know why, but she had her knights train me. I guess you can call me a knight. But, since I'm a girl, it apparently doesn't sound fitting. So, I'd rather call myself an assassin. When I was being trained, it felt like a year or two... But, in reality, it was only an hour. Ever since then, I took out fae that were harmful to humanity. What do you guys do?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, hunt demons and stuff."

I nodded and laughed. "Great family we got."

He gave me a half smile, one cheek exposing dimples. I noticed Dean was looking around the room, too. But the other man just stood there, his head cocked to the left as if he was listening to something. My brows furrowed.

"That's Castiel," Sam answered my unasked question. "He's, um, an angel."

I rolled my eyes. "Right."

I dug into a box and smirked at what I found. A few crowbars sat in the as if it were sent from the Gods.

"Who is this Carson?"

My heart stopped a beat. I didn't hear anyone come stand next to me. I grabbed the bars and stood. Castiel's face was only a few inches from my own. His eyes were searching mine.

"How about you take a step back," I said. "Carson is my ghost buddy, has been for a while. The one who basically told me not to fire."

Castiel moved back a bit, but kept his blue eyes on me. I gave a crowbar to each of the men, though Cas looked at it strangely. Maybe he didn't really need it. But, it was better safe than sorry. The brothers looked at each other again.

"A ghost?" Dean spoke slowly. "He's not there to kill you? Damn, so why does he stick around?"

My hand went to the locket. I rubbed the smooth surface as I remembered the time I had gotten it. I cleared my throat before speaking.

"I was six. Mom and I went to a farmer's market and there was this booth that sold old vintage jewelry. My eyes went to the locket right away," I opened the locket and stared at the photo. "My birthday had just passed and mom hadn't given me a gift yet. So she got this for me. I didn't realize there was a man at the booth and that he was tied to it. I took it home and Carson tagged along. He helped me ever since."

I laughed as I stared at the photos longer. On one side there was a younger version of Carson and the photo was a little torn. The other side had an older Carson, the one that I see now. I shut the locket.

"So," I started. "All you gotta do is stab it through the chest or head. I don't have any guns to give you at the moment."

"You use iron bullets?" Dean looked at me like I was crazy.

"I knew iron isn't a trusty metal, curves too much when shot," I said, getting aggravated. "But, I learned how to shoot with it. It's an easy way to kill them, faster too."

From down the stairs, I heard footsteps. It was too loud and too many. It was like they wanted to be found. I dug into my leather pouch that hung from a belt loop of my jeans. I checked to make sure I had extra bullets. I bent down to check the iron knife that was concealed in my combat boots. I nodded to myself and went to the door. Peeking out, I tried to look down the stairs. It was too high and far. Cas just walked out without the crobar. My eyes narrowed as Sam and Dean did the same, though they held the crowbars. I sighed as I followed them out.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I didn't see any fae. They were all human. At least I thought until of them had dark black eyes. No whites showed.

A/N: To be totally honest, I'm not sure as to how this will end up. This will be set during season 5 episode 8. This is just when they first meet Syl. I hope you guys like it.