Author's Note: Okay, well, here's chapter two. Thanks to you guys who reviewed, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Don't stop! Please let me know if you think I'm slipping anywhere or just your thoughts in general. I'll stop blathering now and let you read...

Chapter Two: Questions

"What?" Sam exclaimed.

"You heard me." Dean said, striding toward where Dani had raised herself to her knees.

"Rock salt in a handgun? Is that even possible?" Sam bellowed.

"Who are you?" Dean demanded, towering over the small blonde.

"Listen…" she started.

Dean reached down and grabbed her by her upper arms, jerking her to her feet in one swift motion. "Who are you?"

Dani looked up at him, as the height difference still gave him a considerable advantage over her. He had to be 6'1 at least and she stood at a mere 5'3. She felt like a midget. His grip on her made her arms her; she was certain that she would have a nasty set of bruises in the morning to remind her of this lovely meeting. The thought made her groan inwardly; like she hadn't been manhandled enough in her life. She took a shaky breath and looked into his amazing hazel eyes, "Please, just get me out of this house and I will tell you everything."

Her eyes pleaded with him, so wide and afraid. They told him that at the moment, she really did want to get out of that house and he was still enveloped with the need to protect the damsel.

"Fine." He said curtly and let go of her.

He tucked her gun into the back of his waistband, then bent over and grabbed his shotgun. When he straightened again, he snatched hold of her elbow in a tight grip and all but dragged her through the house with Sam hot at his heels.

"What did you shoot at?" Sam asked.

"A spirit." Dean and Dani said together. Dean shot Dani a look and she decided that it would be in her best interest to keep her mouth shut for the time being.

"Well, was it one of the girls?" Sam asked.

"No." Dean answered.

"No?" Sam repeated.

"No."

"Then…"

"Sam!" Dean warned, "Later."

The three of them more or less leapt off of the porch and Dean hauled Dani across the yard, holding her in place while Sam climbed the fence then he let go of her arm so she could do the same. Once she was on the other side, she held out her hand to Sam. He looked down at it, then back up to her in confusion.

"Apparently, I might run away." She said with a shrug.

Sam chuckled, but quickly turned the laughter into a throat clearing cough when Dean's feet hit the ground beside him.

"Keep moving." The older Winchester said, taking hold of Dani's outstretched hand and leading her toward where they had left the car, "Where's your car?"

"I don't have one." She answered.

"Then how did you get here?" Dean demanded.

"My manager dropped me at the end of the street and I walked the rest of the way. You're hurting my wrist."

Dean's response was to tighten his hold on her already aching wrist and give her arm a nice, hard jerk so that she stumbled over her own feet in her attempts to keep up with his long legged strides. She changed her pace to a quick jog, trying to avoid tempting him to induce any more pain as he dragged her toward his car. When they were a few steps away, Dean practically slung her out in front of him so that she slammed into the side of the Impala with a resounding thump.

The two brothers loaded the guns, including hers, into the trunk and then Dean proceeded to shove Dani, none too gently, into the backseat. She straightened herself in the seat and tugged at her heavy black pea coat as Dean and Sam slid into the front of the car. Dean started the engine and then wordlessly, shifted into reverse. Once they were on the road, he slammed the shifter angrily into first and the Impala lurched forward.

As she watched the house retreat into the distance, Dani felt herself breathe again. She let her mind wander to the two young men in front of her. There was Sam, who had been so polite to her earlier at the diner. He may have been taller, and boy was he tall, but he was obviously the younger of the two. He could have easily blended in with the gaggle of college kids home for winter break in his hooded sweatshirt worn under a dark blue jacket and faded jeans. With his big brown eyes that gave away his kindness and shaggy brown hair, he had the look of a big, overgrown, innocent puppy. There was a sweet look to him; something that made her want to give him a hug.

Then, there was Dean, who had yet to actually introduce himself, but she knew that that was his name. Quite the opposite of his brother, he had a rugged look about him; something that could almost be described as battle hardened. His dark jeans were washing machine faded and riddled with holes and especially worn out around the knees, the black tee shirt her wore underneath the brown leather had seen better days; and a charm around his neck that she suspected he rarely took off, if ever that is. His dark blond hair was carelessly tasseled and messy and sticking up in several places. He had eyes that were a brilliant hazel green and flashed with flecks of gold when he got angry, as she had just learned. His lips were full and seemed ever eager to draw into a smirk that could probably bring women anywhere to their knees. And, again unlike his brother, there was nothing even remotely innocent about him.

Dani tore her gaze away from the enigmatic duo and instead let herself examine the worn out leather interior of the muscle car that she was being chauffeured in. She stifled a groan in the back of her throat. How had she let herself get into this mess? She really should have known better, but thinking ahead and doing the logical thing had never really been her strong suit. The steady thumping and droning bass line of some esoteric heavy metal was pounding out from the speakers and she suppressed the urge to cover her ears and scream out the words 'what the hell are we listening to'. Something in her stomach told her that it was Dean's choice of music, though she doubted that Sam had put up much of a debate. Even though she had just met them, she had the feeling that this music was what they had chosen as their own personal soundtrack to their lives. It was all power and adrenaline fused with lyrics that appeared shallow on the surface, until you really took a look at them to find the depth of the meaning buried within the subtext. It suited them, but only in that more than perfect way.

She cleared her throat and finally managed to get her voice to work, "If you take the next right, we can go to my apartment."

Dean gave her a pointed look via the rearview mirror, but made the turn nonetheless. Dani turned her face down to her lap so that neither of them would be able to see the smile that spread across her face.

"It's the third complex on the left." She informed.

Dean steered the car into the parking lot of her building and eased into a space between a Chrysler convertible and a big brown Ford van. The three of them piled out of the car. Dani shut her door and looked ahead, only to meet with a steady hazel gaze from Dean.

"Lead the way." He said.

She stepped toward him and turned sideways in attempt to slide past him, trying to touch him a little as possible. The contact that she did make with his solid form made her blush and she had to avert her eyes or he would have been able to see right through her. The boys followed her up three flights of stairs to her floor where she dug her keys out of the brown leather shoulder bag she carried and opened her door.

"Make yourselves comfortable." She muttered incredulously as she crossed through her living room and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey!" Dean called.

"I'm coming back." She shouted in response.

She could hear him mumbling something to Sam, but chose to ignore it. With a sigh, Dani peeled off her coat and bag and kicked off her sneakers. She took another moment to collect herself before returning to the firing squad that awaited her in the living room. The guys had apparently taken her at her word.

Sam sat in the fluffy white chair near the door and Dean had draped himself over the matching sofa, his boot clad feet propped up on her oak coffee table. They had both shed their coats and she saw for the first time the gray flannel button up shirt that hung open over Dean's tattered black tee shirt, the long sleeves rolled up to just beneath his elbows. They both looked over at her when she came out of the bedroom.

She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed Dean with a cool glare, "Get your nasty ass boots off of my grandmother's coffee table."

Dean pursed his lips together and narrowed his eyes, but lowered his feet. Sam stifled his laughter with the palm of his hand. Dani maneuvered into the living room and sat down at the opposite end of the couch.

"So, what did you want to ask me?" she offered.

"First of all, you said you were looking for us," Sam started, "how did you know we were going to be at the Wyatt house?"

"And how did you come up with a handgun that shoots rock salt?" Dean added.

"Well, as for the gun," a bittersweet memory flashed through her mind, "it was a gift from a friend. The other answer is a bit more complicated."

"We're listening." Dean said.

"I can…sense…things." She said, struggling to find the right words, "Sometimes, when I touch someone or something, I can see things about them."

"Like a psychic?" Sam asked sharing a look with Dean.

Dani nodded, though she had always been uncomfortable with that label, "Yeah, I guess." She turned her focus sharply to Dean, "I touched you in the diner and I saw the two of you in that house."

"So, what?" Dean blurted, "You wanted to come and join in on the fun?"

"No!" Dani spat a little too vehemently, "That place…it's…it's not safe. It is not a good place."

"We know." Dean countered.

Sam nodded in agreement with his brother, "Yeah, that's, uh, that's kind of why we were there."

"How did you know that we're brothers?" Dean asked.

"I just knew." She said with a shrug, "When I was taking your order, I just felt it. You're Sam, you're Dean, you're brothers. I just know."

"That was a nice leg sweep back at the Wyatt place." Dean commented dryly, "Where's you pick that up?"

"A friend." Dani said, meeting his unwavering stare with one of her own.

"The same friend who gave you the gun?" Sam asked.

Dani nodded, rubbing her eyes with the tips of her fingers, then shoving both hands back through her hair. She pushed herself up from the couch and walked into the kitchen.

"Do you guys want some coffee or tea or anything?" she asked.

"Coffee would be great." Dean sighed, letting his head fall back onto the back of the couch.

"Yeah, thank you." Sam said, sagging a little further down into his chair, "So, you're a psychic?"

Dani let out a groan as she poured some water into her coffeemaker. "I hate being called a psychic."

"Sorry," Sam chuckled, "What do you prefer to be called?"

"Dani."

"Okay, Dani. But, you can…"

"Yes. I can feel things." Dani cut his question off with the answer.

"So, what do you know about the Wyatt house?" Sam went on.

"I know enough to stay the hell away from it." She replied.

"How?" Dean asked, craning his neck to look over his shoulder at her.

"When I first got to town, some of the girls that I worked with at the diner were telling me about everything. You know, places to hang out, the cool things to do. They mentioned the Wyatt mansion and how it was a local legend. It sparked my interest, in that way that ghost stories always catch peoples' interest I suppose. So, they told me the story of how old man Wyatt went psycho and killed his wife and daughters before running away to Europe and offing himself. They said that his spirit came back to the house where he murdered his family to search for more victims, preferably young girls apparently." She explained.

"But he died of old age in England." Sam said.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, so did his wife."

"I didn't say I believed the legend. I said that that's what they told me." Dani went on, "I was curious. So, I looked up this Wyatt guy and found out probably the same stuff you boys did. Though I didn't really look hard enough to find out anything about his kids."

"It wouldn't have mattered if you had." Dean said, "We dug about as deep as you can go and couldn't find anything more than birth certificates for them."

"Hmm." Dani said thoughtfully, "Well, anyway, figuring that there wasn't really any justification to the haunting stories, I agreed to go up there with a girlfriend of mine just to have a few laughs and be immature, you know. It was just supposed to be a mock ghost hunting trip to joke about at parties. But, I didn't have to do anything more than walk through the front door and I was just hit with this feeling."

"What feeling?" Dean asked.

"Just…a bad feeling." Dani answered, hugging her arms to herself in an effort to ward off an internal chill, "I could just tell that something was off. So much death. So many bad things happened in that house."

Dean and Sam looked at each other, each knowing what the other was thinking. Marisole Parks was never going to see her daughter again; dead or alive.

"Needless to say," Dani chirped, bringing herself out of her little trance, "I grabbed my friend, told her that the place was giving me a major case of the creeps, and we hightailed it out of there."

"Well, at least you didn't lie to her." Dean remarked with a crooked grin.

"Yeah." Dani laughed, grabbing the fresh coffee and pouring three mugs full.

"So, we were thinking that maybe old man Wyatt killed his daughters and that they are the ones haunting the mansion." Sam said.

Dean nodded, "That's what we were thinking, but that spirit that came up tonight was no little girl."

"What was it?" Sam asked.

"It didn't fully appear. Me and dirty Harriet over there blasted the damn thing before it got the chance." He replied, "But, trust me, Sammy. It was no kid."

"Besides," Dani supplied, coming back into the living room and offering them each a cup of coffee before returning to her seat and taking a sip of her own steaming drink, "there has been a lot of death in that house. More than just three little girls."

"How much more?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Dani shrugged, "A lot."

"Maybe we shouldn't be focusing on Wyatt." Dean said so suddenly, you could practically see the light bulb click on over his head.

Sam shook his head, "What do you mean?"

"Maybe we need to go back even further. Who owned the house before Wyatt?" He proposed, looking back and forth between his brother and the blonde.

Sam looked at Dani, who shrugged, before turning back to Dean, "It's worth a shot."

"What did you come across in the house?" Dani asked.

Sam shrugged, "Not a lot upstairs. Some old furniture, dusty mattresses, broken picture frames. I don't think that at this point there was anything up there that would help us out any."

"There was a doorway in the kitchen." Dean said, "I don't know where it lead, but I felt like I was being pulled to it."

"Why didn't you find out where it went?" Sam asked.

"Because Miss Cleo showed up and distracted me." Dean retorted.

"I was only trying to help you." Dani said, glaring at him, "I thought you were just a couple of tourists looking for a goof and I didn't want you to die for it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean said, suddenly on his feet. Dani hadn't even seen him move, "There are tourists going to this place!"

"Yeah," Dani nodded, "Somebody put the story of old man Wyatt on the internet on some Most Haunted website. So, people have started coming through to see it. It's been great for the economy, but I try to steer as many people as I can in the opposite direction."

"That's just great." Dean muttered, flopping back down on the sofa and dropping his head into his hands.

"I suppose you gather by now, we're not exactly tourists." Sam smirked.

"Yeah, I pretty much figured that part out when I ended up on the business end of a sawed off shotgun with the macho man." Dani said, jerking her thumb in Dean's direction.

The comment earned her scowl from Dean, but she figured it was fair play for the Miss Cleo quip earlier and giggled into her cup of coffee. Dean took a swallow of his own coffee, still staring at her through his peripheral vision.

"Well, I don't know about you boys, but I'm tired." She said, pushing herself up from her place on the sofa, "I worked a ten hour shift today so I am going to bed. Um, that couch pulls out into a bed, so you guys are welcome to stay here for the night if you want. It's not much but it's better than a lot of the motels around here and I don't mind."

"Thanks." Sam said with a tired smile that didn't quite make it up to his puppy dog eyes.

He looked so young and innocent, Dani was hit again with the urge to wrap her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be okay. To cradle him up against her and tell him that there was nothing scary lurking in the darkness, despite the fact that they both knew otherwise.

"Dani." Dean said, drawing her attention once again to himself, "I have one more question for you."

"Shoot." Dani said, crossing her arms and leaning a shoulder against the door jam of her bedroom.

"The friend who gave you the handgun that shoots rock salt…"

"Yeah."

"Who was it?" Dean finished.

Dani's back straightened involuntarily at the question; like a cat suddenly on alert. "You don't need to know who my friend is. He prefers to stay below the radar, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Dean said, "so do we. But, if he's playing in the same game that we are, he might be able to help us out some time. Same for him with us."

Dani took a deep breath and weighed the pros and cons of telling them the name of her savior and one time mentor. She supposed there would be no real harm in telling them nothing more than his name, considering that if her friend didn't want to be found, he was not going to be found. She licked her lips and focused on Dean's pretty eyes. "Fine," she said, "His name is John. John Winchester."

Author's Note: That's the end of this chapter. Again, please let me know what you think! Thanks!