a/n:

my first attempt at writing an original case, spurred on by Shadowkitty22. Bear with me because, ironically, the supernatural creeps me the hell out.

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Rachel bit her lip, feeling the exhaustion drag down her body. Ever since the Bloody Mary case, she had seen her father and Blaine consumed with either fire or having their skin flayed alive by familiar sharp claws. No matter how much water she drank, or how many smiles she plastered on her face, Rachel knew it was only a matter of time before the threads would unravel. It seemed as if Puck thought the same thing, because the hunter was treating her carefully, like a bomb that was about to explode.

Why Rachel? Did you not love them enough? Didn't they matter to you?

The oily voice that had slammed through her brain inside the antiques store continued to plague her, its message clear. She had drank glass after glass of water, only to stop when she realized that it was Leroy who had turned her to the habit when she was a toddler. With that source of comfort suddenly repugnant now, Rachel desperately wished for Santana but knew that once her best friend heard the tremor buried inside her voice, the Latina would be on the next plane out to drag her back to Nebraska.

'Berry! Are you even listening to me?' Puck's irritated voice startled her and Rachel looked out the window to see a tall walk up. The shutters were painted green and the worn grey stone looked about as good as she felt.

'I'm sorry,' Rachel said, chastised. Puck heaved out a deep sigh as he cut the engine, running a hand down his face. Rachel wished the Winchesters were here with them instead of working a case a few states over, if only so Puck didn't devote his undivided attention towards her. Even though she was a remarkable actress, Puck possessed the innate ability to see through her charade. He had yet to call her on it but Rachel sensed his patience was wearing thin.

'Fuck woman. I'm trying to make sure you don't walk ass first into some evil-'

'I said I was sorry!' Rachel snapped back, turning to face him. Puck pinched his eyes at her for a moment before his face seemed to settle into something impassive.

'You with me now?'

'Yes,' Rachel stressed, resisting the urge to fold her arms across her chest. Instead she studied the house before her, eyes settling on the shadows she could see moving behind the frosted window. 'How did this man get your number again?'

Puck rolled his eyes, but answered the same question she had asked when he had received the call from John Kane. 'Word of mouth. We aren't listed in the phone book, but the hunters who are good get referrals.'

'Good?'

'I'm the shit,' Puck told her tightly, clenching his jaw. 'Look it looks pretty open and shut. Shit's been freaky up in Casa Kane so they called in the expert. Since we did a spirit, I figured we can cross ghosts off the list next.'

'I'm sorry did you just say ghosts? Like Casper?' Rachel hissed, now flinching back from the house. Puck barked out a laugh.

'Yeah, exactly like Casper,' was his retort before he swung out of the driver's side, slamming the door shut. Rachel scrambled after him, didn't comment when Puck tucked the solid Beretta he seemed to favour in the back of his jeans. He had salt bullets chambered into the rounds, but it did little to ease Rachel's unease around the weapon. Wasn't he afraid he would accidentally shoot himself?

'This guy's actually willing to pay us, which means I don't have to hustle anyone tonight to get some cash. So just act like you know what you're doing,' Puck told her softly but firmly, skipping the bottom step as he ascended the stone stairs.

'I do know what I'm doing,' Rachel replied, affronted. Puck gave her a skeptical look as he pressed the buzzer next to the dark green door. A moment later the door opened to reveal a man who looked to be in his late forties, with thinning hair at his temples but with clear blue eyes.

'Noah Puckerman?'

'Yeah,' Puck answered, shaking John's hand. At the older man's curious look Rachel stepped to the fore to introduce herself.

'Hello. My name's Rachel Berry and I'm-'

'She's with me,' Puck cut her off rather abruptly, steering John's attention back to him. 'So what seems to be the problem?'

John waved them in, Rachel slipping off her shoes and elbowing Puck in the side when it didn't look like he wasn't going to do the same. Gesturing subtly towards the row of footwear assembled near the door, Puck grudgingly unlaced the boots he was wearing.

'John? Is that him?' A woman's voice sounded from somewhere in the back. Rachel tuned out John's reply, letting her eyes wander around the room. The paint on the walls looked faded, and in desperate need of a fresh coat. But the furniture that littered the house on the bottom floor looked cozy, lived-in. There were framed pictures of abstract crayon drawings, as well as a few pictures of John and his family.

'This is my wife Kathy,' John introduced them, the woman beside him cradling a baby on her shoulder. Puck stood behind her as Rachel cooed over Isaac, feeling some of the weight lift away when the baby followed her with wide, wide eyes.

'We thought it was nothing at first. Just the house settling…you know, all those sounds wood makes when it shifts? But then there were these strange noises, and the other night I heard something say my name. The kids don't understand what's happening, but they can tell something's wrong,' John said, motioning towards a picture frame which showed three young children in front of a beaming Kathy and John.

Rachel darted her gaze nervously around, unconsciously moving closer towards Puck. Her entire body tensed and she shivered, whether from fear or anxiety she wasn't quite sure yet. Puck shifted beside her as he spoke to John.

'You guys don't mind crashing someplace else tonight?' Puck asked, though he already knew the answer since John had readily agreed to find someplace else for his family to spend the night. Puck didn't want to risk anything, especially considering that the Kanes had four kids.

'Here's the key and the fridge's been stocked so just help yourselves,' Kathy said, handing Puck a metal keychain. 'Also the only bed big enough for the both of you is in our room. I put fresh sheets on…' The woman trailed off uncertainly, catching the expression on Rachel's face.

'It's fine,' Puck assured them, watched as John picked up the heavy bag next to the wall. Puck noticed Rachel rub her hands up and down her arms, wondering why she felt so cold. Shrugging off his jacket and setting it on Rachel's shoulders, Puck fell into step alongside John as he lifted a massive diaper bag onto his shoulder before heading out the front door.

'I'll call once we've dealt with this. You just keep your family safe,' Puck told the older man, who looked over his shoulder along with Puck towards Kathy and Isaac.

'I will. Be safe,' John added, shaking Puck's hand again. Rachel came up beside Puck, the both of them remaining quiet as John and Kathy disappeared into the Toyota parked in front of Puck's truck. Puck noticed Rachel's grip on his jacket tightened as the family drove down the street, leaving the two of them alone in a haunted house.

'Noah?' Rachel's voice was shaky and caused something like guilt in Puck's stomach to clench.

She shouldn't even be here. You could have dropped her off with Mum and done this solo.

Admit it, you don't want to let her out of your sight.

'C'mon. Let's get the supplies out of the truck,' Puck said instead, ignoring the way Rachel looked in his jacket. The leather practically swallowed the top half of her body, making her appear even slighter than she already was. It stirred something inside of him, something which Puck forcefully squashed, another trait he was fast becoming adept at.

He also tried to ignore the fact that he would be sharing a bed with her tonight.

Keep tryin' buddy.