Thicker Than Water

by GeneralWildfire

Dean 38 reveals to Sam 34 that he has a daughter 13 and that a creature is after her, one that gives even Dean chills. How will they adapt to this newest addition, and what new things will come to light that they'll have to face? Rated M just to be on the safe side.

2. Two: Pawns in a Game

I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters in it apart from the ones that come from my own imagination, and of course all errors are mine. Enjoy!

*Please note that I've only gotten about halfway through season seven of Supernatural and I realized that I somehow missed a couple episodes in the previous seasons (smacks head against desk).*

---

Two: Pawns in a Game

Night was long settled over the land as a family started to get ready for bed in Dodgeville, Wisconsin. A woman with light brown locks tucked her two daughters into bed, the older of the two already settled in bed, only her light brown hair visible as she started to drift off to sleep. The younger girl sat in the other bed. Pushing her black hair out of her eyes, she asked her mother in a whisper, "You did tell her not to pull any pranks on me again tonight, right?"

The mother's brown eyes were gentle as she reassured her daughter, "Yes, even though Julie insisted that she hadn't done anything."

"She's been pulling on my arm and scratching me!" The younger girl insisted.

"I know, sweetie," the mother reassured her daughter. "I made it clear that Julie was not to do anything like that again. Now try and get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay," the daughter muttered, lying down in her bed.

Pulling the blankets up over her daughter, the mother kissed her forehead lovingly, "Good night, Kristen, sleep well. I love you."

As she left the room, the mother turned off the light, and closed the door until only a small sliver of light shown through giving the dark bedroom a tiny amount of light.

The younger girl, Kristen, closed her eyes, and just as she started to drift off to sleep, she heard a rattling somewhere in the room. Sitting up in bed, Kristen asked warily, "Julie, is that you?" No response came from her sibling. Her breath coming in panicked gasps, she hunkered down in bed once more, pulling the covers over most of her head. The rattling sound continued. Shaking with fear, Kristen sat up once more, her brown eyes wide with terror as she looked around, heart pounding in her chest, and sweat trickling down the back of her neck, she desperately sought for the source of the sound. Her eyes went to the window as it flung itself wide.

Kristen stared at the window. When nothing else happened for several seconds she asked in a tentative whisper, "Julie?"

Eyes flying to the window once more, she opened her mouth to scream as a whirling mass of black smoke shot through the window towards her.

---

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, in an abandoned warehouse, Dean and Sara were walking cautiously through the stacked crates and boxes, keeping an eye out for the resident vengeful spirit that had locked them in.

"Sammy better hurry the hell up!" Dean grouched as he glanced around the corner, making sure the spirit wasn't there. "I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. Charlie keeps popping up just about everywhere!"

Sara simply agreed, knowing it was the best method of letting her father vent. Merely agreeing or disagreeing when he wanted a response. Glancing back, she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye and turned around fully, pistol ready to fire. Seeing the pissed off spirit swinging a two-by-four, she made to fire, when Charlie disappeared as a shot sounded from behind her.

Embarrassed that she'd hesitated too long, Sara glanced back at her father to see if he was pissed, but Dean was already facing the other way again, looking around the corner and further down the row.

"Sorry, Dad," she muttered.

Dean glanced back at her, "We'll work on your timing later...If we make it out of this!" Dean checked his sawed off shotgun, "Son of a bitch!" Checking his jacket pockets he swore once more, "Sammy, hurry the hell up!"

This time, when Sara spotted the spirit while her father complained about her uncle's timing, she fired and the spirit dissipated yet again, Dean nodded in approval, "Let's just keep this up for a bit longer." Leading the way around the corner, Dean said over his shoulder, "Start looking for anything that could be iron…" He fired at the bloodied spirit as it appeared again, "We're going to be needing it at this rate."

"Is it just me or has Charlie gotten bolder?" Sara questioned as she fired at the spirit. "How'd he die again?" She added as an afterthought.

"Beaten to death with a two-by-four," Dean answered. "One of his co-workers thought that he'd slept with his wife."

"So that institutes…!" She jumped as her father fired yet another shot. "Beating the poor guy with a piece of wood?"

Dean shrugged, "Guess his co-worker thought so."

"And now Charlie just likes beating people with two-by-fours?" Sara asked. Even though she'd been with her father and uncle for about a month now, she still wasn't familiar with everything.

"Considering we saved the descendants of the guy that killed him, I think Charlie's making an exception for us," Dean explained.

Firing yet another shot at the ghost, Sara sighed, "Right…"

"Let's keep searching for some iron," Dean said, focusing on looking at the various items scattered throughout the warehouse.

Sara followed behind her father, but she was walking more slowly, trying to make sure she didn't miss any potential iron weapon. She didn't realize that she was dropping further and further behind her father, a decent gap opening up between them. Pausing at a broken crate, her eyes went to a wrench lying amid the broken wooden pieces. Hearing a ragged breath, she spotted Charlie walking towards her, and she pulled the trigger of the pistol, but no bullet came out. "Oh, hell," Sara muttered as she dove between the broken crate and a solid crate as Charlie swung at her with the two-by-four.

Now in a hurry as Charlie started walking towards her again, Sara shoved aside some of the smaller pieces of wood, though she reached through the gap to reach the wrench, but the larger pieces kept her hand just millimeters from it. "Come on!" Sara grunted, straining to get the wrench, which she was praying was iron, as Charlie got closer.

As Charlie swung the two-by-four, Sara shielded her head with her other arm, but the blow never came. Glancing from under her arm, she sighed in relief as she saw her father standing there, a wrench in his hand. "Iron," Dean said, grinning. "Reaching for another one?"

"Yeah," Sara said, pulling her arm out of the broken crate.

Handing his daughter the wrench he'd found, Dean grabbed the one she'd been trying to reach easily. "Now, we just need to keep on alert until Sammy salt and burns this son of a bitch." He stood up, "Whatever you do, don't throw your wrench, and don't stand too close to me either, I don't want to accidentally hit you, or vice versa, all right?"

"Got it," Sara said, letting her father walk a few paces away from her before she followed, holding the wrench in her left hand, and ready to swing it at a moment's notice. They didn't have to wait long for Charlie to reappear, swinging his two-by-four, Sara had to backpedal quickly as her father dodged the swings, complaining all the while, "Only problem with wrenches, they're too damn short!" He ducked another swing and swiped at the ghost, swearing as nothing happened, "Why couldn't everyone use iron wrenches?!" He threw the wrench to the side, and ducked yet another swing. Dean shouted at Sara, "On the next couple swings or so, find an opening, get in, and get rid of Charlie-boy at least for a little bit!"

Nodding, Sara swallowed nervously as she watched for an opening as her father ducked and wove to avoid getting nailed by the spirit. When her father actually got behind the spirit, that's when she went in. As Charlie started to turn towards Dean, Sara swung the wrench; however, neither Dean nor Sara had given Charlie enough credit. The vengeful spirit swung the two-by-four at her, catching her with a glancing blow to her midsection, and she went flying into a solid, wooden box, the wrench leaving her hand. To say the least, the thirteen-year-old was winded, and Charlie's focus was all on her now.

Seeing the ghost advancing on his daughter, Dean frantically searched for the wrench she'd lost. Seeing a glint of it in the moonlight that was shining through a window just several paces away from where he was standing, he ran towards it, picked it up, and spun around, relief coursing through him; but it was short lived as he saw the spirit swinging the two-by-four to hit his daughter. Not thinking about anything except keeping his daughter alive, he flung the wrench at the spirit.

Still winded from the first blow, Sara shut her eyes as Charlie swung the two-by-four, but once again, the blow never came, though there was a distinct clanging from much further down the row. Opening her eyes, she heard footsteps hurrying towards her, and soon her father was next to her, "You all right?"

She managed to nod her head as she started to catch her breath. Putting a hand behind her back, Dean helped her to sit up. Sara managed to say, "You disobeyed your own order."

"Well I gave the order, so I think I'm allowed to," Dean stated, giving a grin. It faded quickly as they both heard Charlie at the end of the row where the wrench lay. "Sammy, hurry up!" Charlie got closer and closer, his bloodied shirt, skull, and neck becoming clearer than it'd been all night in the dark warehouse, his black hair disheveled and clinging to his skull, the bloodied two-by-four in his hand looked all the more menacing now that they were weaponless. "Come on…come on…come on…!" Dean said through gritted teeth, waiting for the spirit to burst into flames signifying that Sam had done the salt-and-burn. Standing only a foot or two from them, Dean shoved his daughter behind him, shielding her, and waited for the blow to come as he watched the two-by-four swing through the air towards his exposed head. It never came. Instead, an agonized shriek came from Charlie as his body became consumed by flames, and within seconds there was nothing left.

Sighing in relief, Dean said, turning to face his daughter, "Let's wait for Sammy outside."

Sara got to her feet gingerly, her stomach throbbing from being hit, even if it was a glancing blow, from the two-by-four. She followed him out, one hand holding her stomach. The only indication of her father's worry for her was that he kept his pace slow, staying by her side.

Once outside, Sara leaned against the wall of the warehouse and slid to the ground. Though her stomach still hurt, it was only a dull throb; she knew it'd go away soon. All else failed, she'd be very stiff tomorrow morning.

Dean sat down next to his daughter, "Not bad for a night's work…" His gaze appeared focused on the road, but he truly was keeping an eye on his daughter.

"Yeah," Sara said, not all thrilled with how she'd done. In the month she'd been with her father and uncle, this was already her fifth hunt where she actively participated in, to use her father's word "ganking" the ghost or monster that they'd been hunting. So far, it'd been the same each time, she'd show promise, and it seem like she was actually helping them, but in the end, her father or uncle was always coming to her rescue. Is this how it's always going to be? She wondered. Dad and Uncle Sammy always being the heroes? Glancing at her father discreetly, or at least she thought it was discreetly, she wondered what he was thinking as he gazed at the road, he's probably wishing he'd left me in Pennsylvania, or at least never offered to let me actually hunt with him…

"Hey," Dean said, startling her. "You did fine tonight."

His words surprised Sara, "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, a small smile appearing on his face as he looked at her. "We might need to work on your slight hesitation when you fire a gun, but you did fine."

"Sorry…I didn't mean to hesitate so much…" Sara muttered, looking away from him.

"I'd rather have you hesitating before you shoot rather than just blasting away at any sight or sound. We just need to work on how long you hesitate," Dean asserted. "You waited only a fraction too long sometimes, other times you were dead on." Seeing that his daughter still had a dejected look on her face, he added, "It's not something to beat yourself up over, just something that we know you need to work on."

Sara nodded, still looking dejected, "Right…"

Dean sighed, looking back at the road, his mind wasn't on when Sam would arrive, but on his daughter, worrying over nothing again! He noticed her hand still over her stomach, God, I hope she's not hurt badly! A yawn came unbidden out of his mouth, and he ran his hand over his face, why do I keep having this problem? I never used to be so wiped out after simple jobs like this! Spotting headlights approaching, Dean got to his feet, "That'll be Sammy." Out of the corner of his eye he watched Sara get up, noting that she didn't seem to be in too much pain.

Though it hurt to get to her feet, Sara had to admit that the pain could be worse. As Sam pulled the Impala up right in front of them, Sara didn't bother heading to the drivers' side like she usually did. All she wanted to do was get into the car and crash, her body drained both physically and mentally. Sliding into the backseat, she was surprised when her father said, "Keep sliding over, kiddo. I'm going to keep you company back here."

As Sara scooted over, Dean got into the back seat, receiving a surprised look from Sam as he looked at Dean through the rearview mirror. "Took you long enough," Dean grouched to Sam.

"It wasn't exactly easy to find his grave," Sam stated, knowing Dean was basically saying "thanks for saving our asses". He pulled away from the warehouse, driving to their motel room in Darlington, thirty minutes away from Dodgeville.

Sara wasn't listening to her father and uncle's conversation, her eyes closed as she attempted to drift off to sleep, but it was hard to when she kept recalling how useless she'd still been on, what her father and uncle classified as a, simple job. Sighing, she opened her eyes and watched the dark scenery flash past.

Hearing a sigh from his daughter, Dean glanced at her, before he said quietly, "Why don't you lie down and try to get a bit of sleep before we get to the motel."

Knowing it'd be useless to argue with her father, Sara laid down, gingerly resting her head on her father's thigh, her whole body tensed and waiting for him to say that she needed to adjust her position so that they weren't touching. The words never left Dean's mouth. Instead, he placed his hand on her shoulder and started to rub it, and she soon relaxed. Closing her eyes, she thought, this must be one of those times he wants to have a father-daughter moment… she was asleep in no time.

Sam heard Dean tell his daughter to lie down, and he had to force himself not to look in the rearview mirror or shake his head. He didn't approve of how Dean treated Sara. From what Sam could tell, Dean rarely showed his daughter any sort of obvious affection, and it reminded Sam far too much of their own father and how he'd acted towards them. Then again, Sam argued to himself, Dean and Sara are still trying to figure out each other…I guess I shouldn't worry so much about how they act around each other until they've been together longer…

---

About a half hour later, they arrived at the motel, and Dean gently shook Sara awake. As she opened her eyes, he said, "We're here. I want you to take some pain killers before you really zonk out."

"Okay," Sara murmured, fighting back a yawn. Slowly sitting up, she had to admit that her father's idea of pain killers was a good one as her stomach gave a throb of pain.

Sam led the way into their motel room, revealing only two beds, a chair that didn't look all that comfortable, and a bathroom. "We could have picked better," he muttered to Dean.

Looking around, Dean shrugged, "We could have picked worse too." Setting his bag next to the chair, Dean fished out the pain killers and threw the bottle to Sara, "Take one or two of those, all else fails, they'll knock you out for the night."

"Thanks, Dad," Sara said as she grabbed her pajamas and headed into the bathroom. Yawning, Dean plopped down into the chair, amazed at how crappy the chair really was, but he didn't complain. He'd slept in less comfortable places, and one night wouldn't hurt him.

Sam glanced at his brother who looked like he'd fall asleep any second, "Dean, don't forget, tomorrow I need to see if the Dodgeville Post Office received any packages."

"Why do you need all those packages again?" Dean questioned, half-awake.

Sara exited the bathroom as Sam answered, "So Sara can still get her basic education."

"Is it really needed?" Father and daughter asked at almost the exact same time and in the same tired tone.

"Yes," Sam said, exasperated. Praying he wouldn't have to argue with either of them, again, over why it was necessary.

Dean murmured, "I won't forget…" Opening one eye, he said to his daughter as she crawled into bed, "Night, kiddo."

"Night, Dad," she responded, adding, "Night Uncle Sammy."

Fighting back a chuckle, Sam said, "Night."

---

That night, while Sara and Sam slept peacefully, Dean twitched in his sleep while sweat dripped off of him. Every now and then his hands would clutch at the arms of the chair as if he were in pain, and he kept whimpering, "No…please, no...!"

Dean knew he was dreaming the second he saw the fire and shadow creature in the room. It laughed at him, "You simple minded fool! Did you really think that simply taking her from there would help? It's so easy to track her now."

"What the hell are you?" Dean demanded, rising from the chair.

"Don't you mean, who?" the fire and shadow faded, revealing a woman, her blond hair and piercing blue eyes were not familiar to Dean.

"So you're some sort of psychotic bitch, I knew that already," Dean said.

Her eyes narrowed, "You really are a cocky bastard, sleeping with women everywhere and allowing them to believe you're just a regular guy who wants to get laid." She smirked then, and a chill went up Dean's spine, "I knew what you were though when we met at that bar thirteen years ago. You were like me at the time, a hunter, just wanting a little down time." Her eyes hardened again, "I thought you might actually be sincere, but you got me banged up with that brat!" The fire and shadows returned, covering her body once more.

"There's no way," Dean whispered, panic in his eyes. "You're not…"

"That child's mother? Oh yes I am, Dean Winchester," she stated.

"Why the hell are you doing this?" Dean asked.

"Because I want to see you in as much pain as I was. I fell for you hard, and I believed that you'd stick around, but oh no, you were just like every other bastard I'd met, but unlike the others, you left me with a little gift, not to mention the fact that you left me all alone with a broken heart." A smile came across her face once again, "I want you to go through that pain, and I could easily start your torment now." Her eyes gleamed, "But I won't. I want your pain to be worse than mine. Oh, yes! I want you to wish you were dead by the time I finally make my final move. So, enjoy your year with her, because at the end of it, you'll lose her."

Waking up with a gasp, Dean's eyes looked wildly around the room, but there was no sign of the demon. Sitting up, he glanced at his daughter's sleeping form, the demon's words echoing in his mind, "Enjoy your year with her, because at the end of it, you'll lose her…"

---

The next morning, as Sam waited in line at the Dodgeville Post Office, he couldn't get what Dean had told him out of his mind, Sara's mother is a demon…not only that…Dean doesn't even know for sure if he is her father since he didn't really get a DNA test…Idiot! If he put half the time into actually doing things instead of trying to hide them, we'd all be better off! Shaking his head, the thoughts kept looping around and around in his mind, though every now and then, darker thoughts entered his mind, What if Sara is half-demon? What if she's a demon? Who knows what kind of sick-mind games they've started to play? He admitted to himself, that he was finding it hard to look at his niece the same way, and he knew it'd only get harder until he was definite that Sara was really related to Dean and him, and that she was fully human. Deciding that he'd talk with Dean about all of these things later, he stepped forward in line…

Outside, Dean sat on the hood of his Impala, Sara sitting on his right. He was finding that he didn't like her out of his sight for even a second, regardless of what the demon had promised, Demons lie…for all I know…that bitch will take her from me the second I take my eyes off of her… Glancing towards the Post Office, he was starting to wish that he'd never told Sam about his dream, or the fact that he really hadn't gotten a DNA test to determine if Sara was really his daughter. Looking at her, though, Dean knew she was his. There was no other explanation. No other possibility. She looked like him, sometimes acted like him, how could she NOT be his daughter? No. There was definitely no doubt in his mind that Sara was his daughter, his flesh and blood.

Once again, Dean found his mind going to the option that he really did only have a year to spend with her, and his heart ached at the thought of losing her. She was young. Too young to die. Too young to even be in this crappy business of hunting, and yet she already had her scars. This thought pained him as well as he lifted his right hand and moved it under her bangs, tracing the scar on her forehead with his thumb. Not for the first time that day, Dean wished he'd never interfered in her life so that she could have gotten a better family, a better father. One that would take her to school, had a normal job, scared the crap out of any boys that vied for her affection, would show her affection in the most obvious ways, the list was endless as to what he would have wanted for her, but, like everything else in a Winchester's life, the supernatural always seemed to have another idea.

Sara was lost in her own thoughts as well, mainly about how she could improve so that she wasn't such a burden to her father and uncle on hunts. Particularly to show her uncle that she wasn't a burden. Ever since last night, or at least when she'd woken up this morning, he'd been acting differently towards her, and she didn't want to have a strained relationship with either her father or uncle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her father lift his hand, and she felt him touch the scar that was on her forehead before letting his hand drop down to his side. Wondering what was on his mind, she decided not to ask. Usually she never got a straight answer when she asked those type of questions anyway. After a little bit more deliberation, particularly after she noticed the troubled look in her father's eyes, she asked against her better judgment, "What's on your mind, Dad?"

Dean blinked, burying his thoughts for the time being at his daughter's question, "Lots of things, kiddo."

"Oh," Sara said, still disappointed even though she'd expected the answer.

"My main thought though," Dean added upon hearing the disappoint in her voice, "Is you."

"Me?" Sara asked, surprised.

Chuckling, her father nodded, "Yeah, you." He pulled her against his side, "I find you're on my mind a lot…"

Not exactly sure she should be happy or not at her father's words, she was soon jubilant as he added a bit more pressure to her side. Enjoying the one-armed hug, Sara leaned her head against him. She glanced up at him as she heard him murmur, though she wasn't sure if she was supposed to hear, "We'll get through all this somehow…" Deciding that it was best to just stay silent, she closed her eyes, content on basking in the moment while it lasted.

After several minutes of sitting like that, Dean lost in his own thoughts, Sara was debating if she should tell her father that she loved him…neither of them had said the word since they'd been together, and she knew that she'd have to be the one to stay it, especially with how her father was. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, Dean removed his arm from around her, and she knew the moment was over. Not even a minute later, she watched Sam walk out of the Post Office. Seriously? Does Dad have Sam radar or something?! This had not been the first time one of their few and far between father-daughter moments had been ended based on Dean's apparent ability to sense when Sam was near, or at least that's how it appeared to Sara.

"Where are the packages you were expecting?" Dean questioned as Sam got nearer.

"Didn't arrive yet," Sam answered.

Dean stood up, "Didn't arrive yet?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, looking a bit sheepish. "We'll have to stick around a couple more days…"

"A couple more days?!" Dean shouted, not in the least bit happy. Sara took that as her cue to get off the hood of the Impala, though she didn't know if her father wanted her in the Impala, or to just stand to the side. "You mean to tell me we need to stay in town, while avoiding officers that are probably looking for us since we showed them fake I.D.s and you're making it sound like it's a cake walk!"

"I know it's not," Sam stated, keeping his usual calm tone, though his eyes gave away that he was trying to placate Dean. "We'll just have to stay in different places each night, change the plates on the Impala, and…" He trailed off, giving Dean a meaningful look as he glanced at Sara.

Dean's gaze became livid, and his anger showed in his tone as he ordered, "Sara, get in the car."

Hurrying to the passengers' side, she slid into the car, the door squeaking open and shut, making a resounding thunk as it closed. Wondering what they were discussing and why Sam had given her such a look troubled her, but she tried not to dwell on it…and didn't succeed, especially as she watched her father and uncle gesture angrily at each other as they spoke.

"Are you trying to tell me you want me to drop her off somewhere after what I told you?!" Dean demanded.

Sam lost his composure then, "Yes! Especially after what you told me, Dean! You don't even know if she's your kid! You don't even know if she's human!"

"I know she's human as much as I know she's my daughter," Dean asserted.

Sam rolled his eyes, "You don't know that, Dean, you…"

Dean cut him off, gesturing at the Impala, "You look at her and tell me you're one hundred percent sure that she's not mine, then I might consider what you're saying."

Unable to meet Dean's gaze, he shook his head, "I can't…"

"I didn't think so!" Dean snapped. "So she stays!"

"At least call Cas to make sure she's not a demon or half-demon," Sam pleaded with his brother.

Dean frowned, "And what am I supposed to tell her? I asked an angel to check if you were human?"

"Maybe you don't have to tell her anything except that you wanted her to meet Cas," Sam said quickly, wanting to work with the bit of leeway he'd managed to get.

Frowning, Dean glanced back at his daughter before sighing, "Fine. I'll call Cas later tonight…"

"Thanks, Dean," Sam said, relieved that he'd made him see some sense.

Dean gave him a hard stare, the expression in his eyes hard to determine, "Don't thank me…" He then walked away and got into the driver's seat, sitting down heavily and sighing, looking very worn out.

Losing his feeling of triumph, Sam walked around the car and got into the front passenger's seat.

Knowing that her father and uncle had been talking about her, Sara wondered what they'd said to get each other so worked up. She'd seen and heard the anger in her father's voice, and she'd seen how Sam had gestured. I hope it doesn't involve me being dropped off at an orphanage just because of how I did last night…

Dean started the car after a few seconds, feeling like the worst father in the world. What kind of father doubts that his kid is even human…?

---

Upon finding a motel that they could spend another night in, Sam started searching for any signs that they still might have a case in town. Sara tentatively asked if she could help, and Sam almost refused until he caught the glare Dean was sending his way. I've got to admit, when Dean wants to make it clear that I need to say yes, he gets it across very well!

In the end, he was glad that he allowed Sara to help, since she spotted a strange newspaper article, "Listen to this: girl murders sister, claims to have been possessed…" She looked from her father, to her uncle. "Can people be possessed?"

"Yeah," Dean said, realizing that this was the first time since Sara had been with him and Sam that they had come across a possible demon case. "People can be possessed by demons."

Sara frowned, "So…what do you do to get rid of them?"

"You can stab them with this," Sam stated, pulling out the magic knife he'd gotten from the demon, Ruby quite a few years back. "Or you can exorcise them with the proper Latin, not to mention making them swallow holy water or salt."

Her next question made them both realize just how much she'd become accustomed to hunting, "How many people survive being possessed by a demon?"

"I'd like to say fifty-fifty," Dean said. "But in reality…not a lot. Either the person's body is so damaged by the demon that they die once the demon leaves, or we have no choice but to kill them simply because we're in a situation where it's them or us." Sara's gaze caused him to add, "It's not a decision we like making, but we make it anyway…"

"I understand," Sara said quietly.

Glancing outside at the dark night that had descended hours ago, "You've done a great job, kiddo, why don't you go get some rest? Sammy and I will figure out what we're going to do tomorrow."
Nodding, Sara went into the bathroom, changed, and curled up on the recliner that was going to serve as her bed for the night, the motel room only having one bed, which Dean had laid claim to as soon as he saw it. Sam had been forced to accept the floor, though Sam had decided, upon seeing a cockroach or two, that the wooden chair would be a much more suitable spot.

"Night, Dad," Sara said as she laid down. "Night, Uncle Sammy."

"Night," they both said at the same time, though their tones were completely different. One was wary, the other affectionate.

Casting yet another glare in Sam's direction, Dean walked outside. Once the door closed behind him, Dean leaned against the wall and tilted his head back, looking up at the sky for a second before he closed his eyes and bowed his head, though a bit reluctantly, "Castiel who's who knows where…It's Dean… Look, I know that you said not to bother you unless it was important, and I doubt you'll find this even remotely important, but I need you here to check something…If you can hear me…show up."

Within a second he heard a flap of wings, and he knew Castiel was there even before he heard the angel's voice, "What is it?"

"Thanks for coming," Dean said, surprised at how relieved he was that the angel had answered his prayer as he opened his eyes. "I know you're busy with other…"

"Dean, we're friends," Castiel stated, his vessel's blue eyes holding no room for argument. "If it's something that important that you feel the need to call for me, then it's important. So what is it?"

Glad that Castiel seemed willing to help, Dean explained what was going on, much to his surprise, Castiel didn't seem the least bit shocked at the news of Dean having a daughter. Once Dean had finished, Castiel asked, "What is it exactly that you want me to do?"

"Check that she's not a demon or half-demon," Dean answered.

Gazing at him levelly, Castiel questioned, "Is that all?"

"Yes," Dean answered. "Sam can use the slower methods of determining if she's really my daughter…I almost prefer the slower method."

"If that's all, I can examine her now, while she's asleep," the angel stated.

Dean started to nod when he frowned, "Wait…" Castiel waited silently as Dean tried to find the right words to use, "She's seen nothing but monsters so far since she's been with Sam and I, not to mention that she just learned of the existence of demons…she needs to know about some of the better things in life…like angels."

"You consider angels a better thing in life?" Castiel's tone was disbelieving.

Dean admitted, "Only certain ones."

At this, Castiel smiled, "Then I'll do whatever you want to get her to see this "better part" of life."

"Tomorrow Sam and I are going to investigate the house where the girl murdered her sister. In that time, Sara will need someone to…" Dean once again tried to find the right words to use.

Castiel supplied a guess, "Keep her occupied?"

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, not sure in the slightest how to phrase it any better.

"Very well," Castiel said, nodding. "I will examine her now."

Before Dean could argue, Castiel disappeared, and Dean opened the door to see the angel bent over his daughter touching her forehead, obviously focused.

Sam had nearly had a heart attack when Castiel just appeared next to Sara, but he calmed down once he realized that it was him. Glancing at Dean, Sam asked, "So…what's he doing?"

"Identifying if she's human or not," Castiel answered for himself.

Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean, "Only that?"

"Yeah," Dean answered. "I don't need to have anybody else confirm what I already know."

Glowering, Sam looked away from Dean to Castiel, who was straightening up, "Well?"

"She's human," Castiel answered, looking down at Sara still.

Dean didn't like Castiel's tone, "But…?"

"Nothing," Castiel answered, obviously confused by Dean's question.

I hate it when he reverts back to full-on angel tone…I can never tell how he says things then… Dean thought.

Castiel stared at Sara a few seconds longer, unsettling Dean a bit before he said, "I'll meet her tomorrow then, Dean." He disappeared with the usual sound of a flap of wings.

"He'll meet her tomorrow?" Sam questioned.

Dean sighed, "I figured it wouldn't hurt to let her see that not everything in this world is bad when it comes to non-human beings."

"Okay…" Sam said, deciding it'd be best not to antagonize his brother further that night.

Not wanting an argument then and there either, Dean asked, "Do you still want to take the case even if the package arrives tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Sam said, frowning at his computer screen, "This case has the potential to be a real demon-possession, and I don't want to leave one if we can get rid of it."

"Right," Dean muttered, adding in a louder tone, "We'll drop off Sara at the local park and head over there then to interview the parents, and if we're lucky, the kid."

---

The next morning, Sam decided to bring up the remaining issue involving Sara. As Dean put on his black dress coat, Sam said, "You know it'd be better to know for sure if she was your daughter."

"She is," Dean stated, starting to tie his tie.

Sam gave a forced laugh, "No. You don't know that. You're assuming she is."

"I'm not seeing the problem yet, Sammy," Dean said, turning away from the mirror. "As far as I'm concerned, she's my daughter. My flesh and blood. Your niece. Nothing else needs to be discussed. I went through your little idea of making sure she wasn't a demon, and that's as far as I'm willing to go on this issue!"

"What if she isn't your kid, Dean?" Sam challenged. "What if she isn't a Winchester? What if she's not supposed to even be in this messed up life of hunting, but with a regular family?"

This caused Dean to look uncertain for a few seconds, but he shook his head resolutely, "No. She's definitely my daughter."

"But you aren't one hundred percent sure," Sam persisted.

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean snapped, his eyes blazing. "Why won't you just let it rest?! So I don't know if she's my daughter by blood or not, but I don't give a rat's ass if she is or isn't, the fact remains that she's in my care now and that's all there is to it!"

Not exactly wanting to pull a cheap shot, but Sam decided to anyway, "Dean…even if there was say, a percent of a chance she was someone else's kid…someone who could give her a better life than this…would you deny her the chance to live that kind of life?"

Though Dean tried not to let it show, Sam's words hurt. It was his own doubts and worries spoken aloud. "Son of a bitch," he finally said, his voice sounding a little ragged as he walked towards his daughter and pulled out a couple hairs, giving her a rude wake-up call.

"Ouch! What was that for?" Sara demanded, rubbing the top of her head where the hairs had been plucked from.

Dean answered, his tone cold, "To put Sammy's mind at ease." Pulling out a couple of his own hairs, he deposited them on the table. "Do what you want with them." Storming outside, both Sara and Sam heard the distinct thud of the Impala's door as it was slammed shut.

Sam shook his head, grabbing first Sara's hairs, and then Dean's, placing them in two different envelopes.

Saying that Sara was confused by her father and uncle's behavior would be a drastic understatement, she had no clue what to think, really. Though she had a feeling that she was the source of the strain that was obvious between them; getting off the chair, she hurriedly changed and walked outside, hoping that her father might want to clear things up. As soon as she got close enough to the Impala, she wanted to turn back around. Her father was pissed, and she knew it. Sara had only seen her father at this point once, and that had been when she'd disobeyed him by leaving the park back on her first hunt with him and Sam.

Dean sat in the Impala, hating Sam for forcing his hand, and also for voicing his doubts and worries aloud. Yes. He did have his doubts about being Sara's biological father, but that made little difference to him, and he only doubted it slightly. After all, Sara did bear a resemblance to him, and he liked to think that he was growing closer to his daughter, but then again…what did he know about being close to anyone besides Sam? He couldn't say he'd been close to his own father, closer than Sam, yes, but not absolutely close. Dean had seen himself as a soldier that obeyed his father's orders, Dean tried not to make Sara feel that way…As the door opened he glanced up and tried to cover his anger and confusion. Sara didn't need to worry about what mood he was in. Rolling down the window, he called out, "Hey, come on in if you're ready to go!"

Relieved that her father didn't appear to be mad at her, Sara started to head towards his side of the car to get into the back seat, but her father shook his head, "Sit up front with me."

A bit perplexed, Sara made her way over to the front passenger's side door and got in, assuming that her father was pissed off at Sam. "What are we doing today?"

"First, we're going to see if the package Sammy ordered has arrived yet. Then, Sammy and I are going to interview the parents of the girl, and maybe even the girl herself, while you…"

"Wait in a park," Sara finished for her father, sulking now. She always had to wait in a park whenever her father and uncle were interrogating people about their experiences. "And make sure to call you if I see anything strange, feel like I'm being watched, yadayada…"

Dean smirked at his daughter's words, saying, "Actually, I'm dropping you off at a park where you'll meet a good friend of mine."

This had the desired effect on Sara, who brightened up instantly and asked, "Who?"

"You'll find out when I drop you off," Dean answered, still smirking. Sara sighed and he added, "I think you'll like him."

So…it's a guy, Sara thought, trying to think of guy names that her father had mentioned. The only one she could come up with was Bobby, who she wasn't sure she was ready to meet.

Sam entered the car then, sitting behind Sara, and her father got a steely look in his eyes, I guess that explains who he's pissed at…

---

Pulling into the Post Office parking lot, Sam got out of the car even before Dean cut the engine. Seeing the many cars, Dean opened his door and walked to the trunk, grabbing the cooler that Sara knew contained a stash of alcohol, mainly beer. Getting out of the car as well, she sat on the hood like they'd done yesterday, and her father joined her once he pulled out a beer, sitting next to her on the hood, his right foot on top of the cooler. She watched him take a swig, wishing that he was in a better mood. Sara had learned with her brief time so far with her father and uncle that her father drank…a lot. That being said, she noticed that when he was either in a down mood, or in a particularly foul one, he tended to drink more, usually starting in the morning…like now.

Taking another swig, Dean gestured at the cooler, "Do you want a drink?"

"Um…" Sara wasn't exactly sure how to answer that question considering the usual drinks that sat in the cooler.

"I put some age appropriate drinks in for you," Dean clarified.

She shook her head, "No. I'm okay."

"If you're sure," he muttered, taking yet another swig of his beer.

Sighing, Sara wished she knew what was bothering her father, or at least figure out what Sam had done to tick him off. She knew that even if she asked, he still wouldn't tell her though. That was just how her father was. Releasing another sigh, she leaned against him.

Slightly surprised when his daughter leaned against him, Dean glanced down at her before he set his, almost empty, beer bottle behind him before he wrapped his right arm around her, and he kissed the top of her head, I love you, kiddo. I hope you know that…

"Dad…?" Sara said, working up the courage to say "I love you" aloud.

Dean pulled away then though, "Yeah?" He downed the last gulps of his beer just as the Post Office doors opened and Sam walked out.

"I…" she turned as Sam approached, "Never mind…"

"What were you going to say?" Dean asked, a bit concerned, though it didn't show on his face or in his voice.

"It's not important," Sara said quickly, getting off the hood and sitting in the back seat as she usually did.

Frowning, Dean got up, threw his bottle into the nearest trash receptacle, and got into the car as well. As Sam got into the car, Dean grouched, "Still no package?!"

"Nope," Sam said in an apologetic tone.

"Next time you want something delivered, send it to Bobby's!" Dean snapped, starting the engine and pulling out of the Post Office parking lot and heading further into town.

The tension in the car could be cut with a knife, and Sara was actually quite happy to be dropped off at the park, though she didn't see anyone there that seemed to recognize her father's classic car. "Are you sure he's here, Dad?"

"Most likely," Dean answered. "You'll know him when you see him, I promise." Winking at her, the Impala started to inch forward, and Sara backed up, and watched the Impala grow smaller and smaller. Sighing she spotted a bench and made her way towards it, noting the way some of the people there at the park, who she assumed were parents, looked her way. Some of the glances were pitying, a few were friendly, the rest were hard to place, though they didn't make her feel very welcomed. She was thankful that at least the park was a large one, stretching quite a ways into the forest that bordered it.

Sitting on the bench, she sighed. It would be a long wait for her father and uncle to return, it always was. Discreetly checking the inside pocket of her jacket, she felt the pistol that her father had given her as a "just in case" option. It was a reassuring feeling to know that she wasn't exactly helpless even if her father and uncle weren't there with her. Looking around the park once more, Sara decided that her father had merely said that she'd meet one of his friends there just to make her more willing to be at the park. Well…at least it's a nice day! She tilted her head back and let the warm sun caress her face and neck.

Closing her eyes, wanting to enjoy the moment for a second, she heard something that sounded like the flap of a bird's wings as it landed, but much bigger than any bird. Already tense, her hand was already going for her pistol as a distinct male voice said, "It's a nice day."

Eyes flying open, her hand didn't get to her pistol, the man's hand gripping her wrist as he said, not looking at her, "I wouldn't do that. It wouldn't work on me anyway."

Not exactly scared, but not in the least reassured, Sara took in the man who was sitting on the bench beside her in a very pale brown trench coat, underneath it a black dress coat and pants, a white button up shirt underneath the black coat, and a dark blue tie. His clothes weren't the only things to catch her eye. The man's hair was what she would call windswept, not in any way neat, but it worked on him, giving him an attractive appearance, not to mention the stubble he had on his chin, giving him a rugged look, and his blue eyes…they were a bit unnerving to her. They seemed to hold so much knowledge in them that it didn't seem like his body suited the knowledge hinted in those blue depths.

"Who are you?" Sara asked, deciding that if this guy or creature, or whatever, was a threat, she could stall him from causing anyone or anything harm by keeping him talking.

The answer that came out of the guy's mouth made her wonder if he'd lost his marbles…and maybe a bit if she'd lost hers, "I'm Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord." It took Castiel a bit to realize that Sara was skeptical, "Really. I am."

"No offense, um…Castiel…but neither my father nor uncle have mentioned angels," Sara stated.

Castiel sighed, "There's a lot that you don't know about the world, didn't you just learn there was such a thing as demons?" Sara opened her mouth a couple times to try and counter, but ended up simply nodding. "Why do you find it so hard to believe in angels then?"

"I guess because of the life I've lived so far," Sara muttered darkly. She paused then as what Castiel had said sank in, "Wait…how did you know that I only just learned about the existence of demons?"

"Your father told me," Castiel answered. "He and I are friends after all."

"Somehow I can't see my father, who says hell fairly often as the friend of an angel," Sara commented.

Castiel chuckled, "You really are his daughter." Sara gazed at him quizzically so he elaborated, "He didn't want to believe that I was an angel when he and I first met any more than you want to believe me now. I figured you would react this way even when Dean requested that I meet you today."

That was enough that Sara understood that he was at least the person she was supposed to meet in the park, though she was still unsure about whether or not he had a few screws loose. "Say I do believe that you're an angel…why in the world would you be babysitting?"

"It was a favor to your father," Castiel answered. "And I'm not exactly a busy one either…not recently…"

Deciding to abandon the topic of whether or not Castiel was really an angel since she still didn't believe him, she agreed with his earlier statement, "It is a nice day."

Smiling slightly, Castiel stood up, "Walk with me."

"Um…sure," Sara said, standing up. "Granted, if my father doesn't find me in the park when he returns he'll hunt you down."

"I know he would," Castiel stated, leading the way deeper into the park, away from the main road and the children's playground, heading towards the forest, Sara followed him, though she was still a bit wary.

---

"Last time Sara wasn't where she was supposed to be, you were freaking out," Sam tried to rationalize, his brother's indifference at Sara not being in the park bothering him a bit more than he would have liked to admit.

Dean countered, calmly leaning against the Impala, "That's because last time she wasn't with Cas. He won't let anything harm her."

"Are you sure?" Sam questioned. "Because Cas hasn't been right since he took on my madness, and you know it."

"He's gotten better at controlling it. I trust Cas to keep Sara safe," Dean repeated.

Sam frowned, not liking Dean's lack of worry, "What if something gets the drop on Cas?"

Taking a deep breath, Dean managed to keep his face and eyes worry-free. In actuality, he was very worried that the two weren't in plain sight, but he didn't want to let it show, "What could have happened in only twenty minutes?"

"Do you really have to ask that?"

Giving Sam an annoyed glance, he continued leaning against the car, "I'm not worried."

"Then why did you insist on coming back when we found that the family wasn't home?" Sam asked.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Because it'd be pointless to wait there not knowing how long we'd have to wait. I'd rather have Sara with us and make some excuse up as to why she's with us rather than having her wait here for God knows how many hours."

Translation: he's worried, Sam concluded, though he wasn't one hundred percent positive on that conclusion.

As the minutes dragged by from five, to ten, to fifteen, to thirty, to an hour, Dean's worry started to show in his eyes, and in the way his body was no longer relaxed as he continued to lean against the Impala, come on, Cas…don't let me down…

"There they are," Sam pointed towards the path that led deeper into the surrounding forest, and Dean forced himself not to sigh in relief as he saw Castiel looking like he usually did and Sara smiling. Tilting his head a bit, he tried not to let the fact that he'd never seen Sara smile like that around him get to him. Castiel was an angel after all. He probably knew what to say, or maybe Sara just felt more comfortable around Cas…Dean didn't dwell too long on the last thought, pushing it from his mind as he started to walk towards the pair.

---

Sara was indeed smiling, though it was more at the antics of the angel, or more precisely, how easily the angel butchered some sayings and didn't seem to have a grasp of slang terms. Along with that, Sara had found she enjoyed the angel's company, much to her own surprise. Castiel exuded an air of authority and confidence, yet he also seemed approachable and willing to listen, which he had listened to her when she'd spoken to him, willingly, about her life, her relationship with her father, and many other topics that she knew that she wouldn't have told just anyone. As to what Castiel had said or done to make her believe that he was really an angel, and a trustworthy one at that…that was between them.

A crunch of gravel caught her attention and she looked away from Castiel, her smile getting all the warmer as she saw her father.

At her smile towards him, Dean relaxed. So Cas had managed to get her to smile, no big deal. "Everything go all right, Cas?"

"Yes," Castiel answered, pausing a few feet away from the father and daughter.

Dean smiled back at his daughter, "Enjoy your time with Cas?"

"Yeah. He's pretty cool," Sara admitted, though in a low tone so the angel wouldn't hear her.

From the smirk that came across Castiel's face, Dean had a feeling the angel had heard her regardless of how low of a tone his daughter had spoken in. "Go reassure your uncle that you haven't come to any harm and I'll be there in a second."

"Okay," she said, walking over to her uncle, leaving her father and Castiel.

---

Sam had been focused on Dean and how he reacted towards Castiel and Sara, who seemed to be getting along well, to how he greeted her. Trying not to judge his brother on how he greeted Sara so dismissively, reminding himself that Dean was not like their own father, John.

"I'm not hurt!" Sara called out to him as she got nearer.

Sam nodded, "I can see that!"

Laughing, Sara leaned against the Impala with him, "Why are you and Dad back so early?"

"The family wasn't home, so we decided it'd be easier to come back and pick you up," Sam answered. "We'll make up some story as to why you're with us when we interview the family."

"Cool!" Sara said brightly.

Sam nodded, pulling his niece, or at least he hoped she was his flesh and blood niece, into a one-armed hug, setting aside his doubts temporarily, "You bet!"

---

Dean said to Castiel, "Thanks again, Cas. It means a lot to me."

He didn't expect Castiel to move or say anything. Dean actually figured the angel would disappear like he usually did. It threw him off when Cas walked right up to him until they were only a foot or two apart, and he said in a hushed tone, "You've got quite a daughter there. Make sure you take good care of her."

Before Dean could get really irritated, or confused, Castiel disappeared. He stood there for several seconds, trying to figure out what Cas had been trying to get at. The only conclusion he could come to was that Cas didn't think he was doing a good job raising Sara, what the hell does he know about being a father? He's a frickin' angel with daddy issues! Reassured with this thought, Dean walked over to the Impala, glad that Sam was at least attempting to be a caring uncle to Sara, "Ready to head out? We'll see if the Dobson family is home yet."

"And if they're not?" Sara asked.

Dean grinned, "Then we'll check out a local diner!"

Forty-five minutes later, they pulled up to Clarisse's Diner, the Dobson family having still not been home.

"Let's just keep it under an hour," Sam pleaded with Dean.

Dean just grinned, "It'll take as long as it takes Sammy." Getting out of the Impala, he waited until Sara got out as well before leading the way into the diner. It was fairly easy to guess what he was looking forward to as the special of the day was "dollar pies". Even Sara's eyes lit up, much to Sam's amusement when he glanced back at her.

A bell rang as they walked in, and a blond waitress came up to them, holding menus, her blue eyes scanning both Dean and Sam with interest, "Just two of you?"

"Three," Dean said, looking her over as well as he moved to the side so that Sara was now in view.

She was immediately turned off, "This way please."

A bit insulted at how swiftly the blond had become uninterested in him, Dean had a sulky look about him as he slid into the booth that she led them to. Sam slid in across from him, looking about the same. Sara was oblivious to the fact that her father and uncle's dejection, sliding next into the booth next to her father.

"What can I get you to drink?" the waitress asked, blinking flirtatiously at Sam when she noticed where Sara sat.

"Um…just water," Sam decided.

Dean looked at his daughter, losing all hope of getting together with the waitress later.

"I'll have a Coke," Sara said.

"Make it two," Dean decided on a whim, figuring if the waitress thought he was unavailable because he had a kid, then he'd just let her go on thinking that regardless of how much it pained him.

The waitress nodded, "I'll bring those right out for you."

Sam fought back a smirk as the waitress winked at him as she left. He decided to hide it by opening up the menu and looking through it.

Not missing Sam's smirk of triumph, Dean rolled his eyes and opened up his own menu, scanning all the different items.

Feeling like she was missing out on something, Sara shrugged it off and opened up her menu, wondering what to get.

"Know what you're getting?" Dean asked after a few minutes.

Sara shook her head, "Not a clue."

"You can get whatever you want; Sammy and I won't bite your head off our anything."

Dean shot Sam such a look that Sam felt compelled to add, "Yeah, get what you want."

This was one thing Sara knew she would never get used to. It was almost like a ritual, though she did note the look that her father gave her uncle that was definitely different. Otherwise, it was the same. They didn't care what she got. As far as they seemed concerned, she could eat junk food all the time, not that she would.

I'll never get used to some things, Sara decided, scanning the menu again.

The waitress returned and asked, giving Sam a smile, "Have you decided?"

"Yeah, I think we have," Sam answered.

"What'll it be?"

"I'll have the Chef Salad," Sam answered.

The waitress wrote it down and glanced at Dean, "I'll just have the cheeseburger."

Nodding, the waitress looked at Sara, "I'll just have a burger."

"All right," the waitress said, ripping off the page that had their order on it. "I'll bring it out when it's ready."

Once she was gone, Sam and Dean got down to business then, "So what's going to happen with Sara?"

"Bring your kid to work day?" Dean suggested.

Sam shrugged, "Best we've got."

"Better than the car," Sara muttered.

Dean smiled, "Don't think you're just going to get to relax…I think we're going to have you talk to the girl before or after us, maybe get some information that we might not be able to get when we talk with her or her parents."

"Right," Sara said brightly, eager to help.

Dean gave a nod of approval, "That's my girl!"

Now it was Sam's turn to give Dean a look, ruining the possible father-daughter moment that might have followed, since Sara noticed the look and didn't respond to her father's approval like she usually would have.

If looks could kill, Sam would have been six feet under. To say the least, Dean's good mood had gone right out the door from Sam's insistence on not wanting to believe that Sara was his daughter without proof and making it obvious that he and Dean weren't telling Sara about it.

To say the least, it was a tense silence until their food arrived, and even then, the tension didn't disappear. Sara felt sick to her stomach at the tension between her father and uncle, and she only ate half her burger.

Noticing this fact, Dean asked, "You all right, kiddo?"

"Yeah…just not as hungry as I thought I was, I guess," Sara muttered.

Not convinced, Dean didn't know how to try and get more information as to what was obviously troubling his daughter. He sighed, setting down his own burger, not hungry anymore at the dilemma that had just presented itself to him, why does this always seem to happen? Raising his hand to get the waitress' attention, he gave Sam an annoyed look once more.

"Ready for your bill?" the waitress asked, oblivious to the tension at the table.

"Yeah."

Setting the bill on the table, she left, winking at Sam before she did so. Sam made to grab the bill when Dean snatched it, commenting, "Janelle says she thinks you're cute and left her number for you…too bad you're not getting it."

Sam glared at Dean, while Dean pulled out some money from his wallet, leaving several one dollar bills on the table, "You're going to have to move, kiddo, so I can pay this bill." His daughter moved out of the way pretty quickly, and Dean really wished Sam had kept his opinion to himself.

Both Sam and Sara followed Dean to the counter, and then out to the Impala, where the tension continued to reign supreme for the twenty minute ride to the Dobson's house, where Sam and Dean both noted the car in the driveway.

"All right, let's see how this plays out," Dean said, getting out of the car.

Sam glanced back at Sara, "Are you sure you're up to this?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Sara answered, determined to show that she wasn't just a burden on the job, since she was fairly certain that that was what her uncle was annoyed about.

Sam and Sara both got out of the car, and caught up with Dean as he rang the doorbell. It didn't take long before a woman with light brown hair answered the door, her eyes red and her cheeks puffy from crying, "C-can I help you?"

"Mrs. Dobson, we're Agents Colt and Remington, and we'd like to ask you a few questions concerning your daughter's death," Dean said, cutting right to the chase.

A man with mud brown hair came up behind Mrs. Dobson, "Haven't the police asked enough questions already? Can't you people leave us in peace?!"

Sam tried to soothe the distraught couple, "I know this is difficult, but the FBI needs to do their own investigation."

Mr. Dobson looked like he wanted to argue, but Mrs. Dobson nodded, sniffing a bit as more tears started to fall, "Come in…"

All three of them walked in, Mr. & Mrs. Dobson barely glancing at Sara as she followed her father and uncle into the quaint, little living room, the furnishings all gray, with accents of pastel colors in the room, like the pillows on the couch, or the frames on pictures.

"Before we begin," Dean said, "I'd really prefer not to have my daughter, hear any more about this than necessary."

"Why did you bring her then?" Mr. Dobson demanded.

Dean explained, "Bring your kid to work day, didn't expect it to be one quite like this though."

"Is there a chance she can perhaps talk with your other daughter?" Sam suggested.

Mrs. Dobson's eyes filled with hope, "Does that mean you don't think my Kristen murdered Julie?!"

"No we don't, Mrs. Dobson," Dean said.

She nodded, wiping tears from her eyes, "Yes…um…Kristen is in our room since…" She broke down sobbing, her husband wrapping his arms around her.

At a nod from her father, Sara headed upstairs, assuming that was where the parents' bedroom was, since from what she could see of the downstairs, didn't contain any bedrooms.

Reaching the top of the stairs, she looked around, trying to decide whether or not she should go to the right, or to the left. An open door to the left helped her decide, and she knocked on the partially open door before walking in.

A girl with black hair was sitting on the floor of the room just in front of the bed, her eyes, like her mother's red from crying. She asked in a whisper, "Who are you? What do you want?"

Unsure of what to say, Sara lied, "I'm Traci Remington, my father is an FBI agent, I'm here just because it was a bring your kid to work day at my dad's work…we can talk though…if you want…"

"Sure," Kristen sniffed. "Not that anyone believes me…"

"Believes what?" Sara questioned.

Kristen wiped her eyes, "About being possessed!"

At this point, Sara was a bit wary. It was too easy to get Kristen to talk, which just seemed off to her, but she asked, "What makes you think you were possessed?"
Terror coursed through her at Kristen's next words and her cold tone of voice, "Because I never left." She blinked and her brown eyes changed to pitch black.

Moving to pull out her pistol, realizing that she was in danger, she had no time to react as, what appeared to be black smoke came out of Kristen's mouth and headed for her.

---

Downstairs, Sam asked, "Did your daughters have any…problems with each other?"

"You mean besides the usual sibling rivalry?" the father asked. "No."

Dean asked, "Anything out of the ordinary happen recently?"

Sniffing, the mother managed to say, "Kristen said that Julie had been pranking her by pulling on her hair and scratching her…" She broke down into silent sobs once more, her husband putting his arms around her comfortingly.

Exchanging a quick look, Sam said, "We know this is hard for you, but if you could answer on...?!" He broke off as a thud sounded from upstairs. Him and Dean were on their feet in a second, both reaching for their guns.

The father made to get to his feet as well when Dean said, "Stay here. We'll handle it." The father didn't listen though, following them both upstairs to the open room on the left.

"What happened?" Dean demanded as he entered, seeing the girl, Kristen on the floor with Sara crouched over her.

Sara answered, "She passed out…I'm not sure why though…"

"Kristen?!" the father shouted, worriedly, Sam barely managing to hold him back.

"Agent Remington is checking on her!" Sam grunted.

Squatting down next to Sara he felt for Kristen's pulse. Not that he didn't trust his daughter, but he had to be sure, "She'll be fine, Mr. Dobson…why don't you take her downstairs with you while Agent Colt and I discuss how we want to proceed from here."

As Mr. Dobson scooped up his daughter, Sam was watching Sara. Something about how calm she was, how…detached she seemed wasn't adding up. He saw it then; Sara's hand moving towards her pistol, and Sam acted without any true thought, he started to run towards her.

Dean caught Sara's movement out of the corner of his eye, and wondering what she was doing, he got to see the muzzle of her gun starting to get aimed towards him, along with her eyes going completely black. Reacting on instinct, he grabbed her wrist and twisted it until the pistol fell from her hands as she shrieked in pain. The shriek was enough to startle him, and he released her wrist, his hunter instincts clashing with those his paternal ones.

Sam didn't have any such qualms, striking her with a quick, yet powerful punch that left her unconscious.

"I'm not sure if I should be thanking you, or killing you," Dean stated, getting to his feet.

Rolling his eyes, Sam said, "Thanking me. You saw her eyes."

Reluctantly, Dean nodded, "Yeah…I saw them…"

"What just happened? Why were her eyes completely black?!" Mr. Dobson demanded, clutching his unconscious daughter.

Exchanging cautionary glances, Sam was the one to speak, "Your daughter was possessed by a demon which decided to switch to her." He gestured at Sara.

Instead of being in complete denial of demons existing, Mr. Dobson shook his head, "I don't understand…we're a good Christian family…"

"Demons don't really care what faith you are," Dean stated. "They just want a vessel and they'll take whoever they want."

Sam shot Dean an irritated glance as Mr. Dobson said, "What do we do then?"

"Do as we say," Dean stated, ignoring Sam's glance.

Frustrated with Dean, Sam said in a gentler tone, "Go get your wife and meet us at the top of the stairs and we'll explain more from there."

Nodding, Mr. Dobson hurried downstairs with his daughter, his grip never relaxing.

"This is just peachy," Dean muttered darkly.

Sam remained silent, lost in his own thoughts, why did the demon switch bodies? It could have just as easily tried to kill Dean and I from the other girl's body…unless… He didn't' get much further in his thought process.

"Hey!" Dean raised his voice to get Sam's attention. "We need to get a Devil's Trap set up in here and get…" He gestured at his daughter. "Restrained so we can exorcise the demon."

"Right," Sam said nodding. "I'll stay here, you get the rope, spray paint, and salt so that we can keep the family safe as well.

Dean didn't like Sam's tone, it was the one he used when he was trying to keep Dean from doing something, "I think I'll stay here and you can get that stuff."

"Dean…" Sam really didn't want to argue with his brother now. Especially with the situation being so delicate, "I think it'd be better, particularly for you, if you went and got the stuff and I stayed here."

Dean gave Sam an incredulous look, "What? Don't you think I can handle a demon?"

"I know you can handle a demon," Sam stated. "I'm not sure if you can handle a demon that's possessing your daughter."

As much as Dean didn't want to admit it, he knew Sam was right, he'd had conflicting emotions just getting the gun out of her hand-no, the demon's hand. "Fine. We'll do it your way," He said tersely as he walked out of the room.

---

Half an hour later after getting the Devil's Trap setup in the Dobsons' bedroom, they were downstairs in the kitchen, dumping salt all around the perimeter of the room. Sam explained, "This will keep the demon from trying to possess any one of you when we exorcise it."

Dean added as he straightened up, "Do not leave this room, and do not break the salt line!"

Mr. Dobson was a bit more skeptical now, "And the salt just magically keeps the demon out?!"

"If you want to look at it that way, yeah," Dean snapped.

Sam intervened quickly, "If you'll excuse us for a moment!" Walking out of the kitchen, careful of the salt line, he glared at his brother, "Look. I know you're upset, but don't take it out on them! They're just the victims here!"

"I know!" Dean said in exasperation. He shook his head, "I just can't believe how stupid people can be…"

Chuckling, Sam nodded in agreement, "I hear ya."

Re-entering the room, Dean noticed that Kristen was now awake and looking very confused. "Now, like we said, stay in this room, don't break the salt line, and no one will be possessed again," Dean was glad to see that his words seemed to strike home as Mr. Dobson nodded, looking anxiously at his wife and daughter."

"We'll come and get you once we're done," Sam added before he and Dean left the room once more.

Walking up the stairs, Sam suggested quietly, "Maybe you should wait outside the room till I'm finished."

"Why?" Dean demanded.

Sam said bluntly, "You might not be as firm or hard as you should be with that demon."

Snorting in contempt, Dean reached the top of the steps first and turned left, entering the bedroom. Sam followed with a resigned sigh.

"I was wondering how long you'd keep me waiting," the demon sneered, the sound a stark contrast to Sara's usual demeanor and manner of speaking. "You couldn't have found a comfier chair?"

Dean had stopped dead as soon as he heard Sara's voice, but Sam didn't walking right up to it and tossing water on it, "Shut up!"

Hissing in pain, the demon was soon chuckling, "My, my. You're taking this far better than I thought you would. Here I thought the famous Winchesters, known for being big softies when it comes to family would be all frozen up with horror." Sara's eyes locked on Dean, "At least one of you didn't disappoint me."

Eyes holding no emotion, Dean chuckled darkly, "Don't get your hopes up there."

"You know she's awake in here," the demon said quietly.

This immediately got Dean's attention, though he managed to keep his face and eyes expressionless.

The demon knew it had both of the Winchester brothers' though, "She's wondering why you're not doing anything. The poor thing can't figure it out. Lots of emotional scars here, you know. All your fault too, Dean."

Sam cast a quick look at his brother only to see Dean's jaw clenched and his fists clenched.

"Poor kid…doesn't have a hope of a happy life, you know, much less a loving family or even a loving father."

"Why are you here?" Sam managed to keep his voice from shaking completely with rage at the demon's games.

A harsh laugh escaped Sara's lips as the demon laughed, "You don't know?" Sara's eyes lit up with delight as Sam and Dean gave the other a confused look. "You really don't know." It chuckled again. "I'm checking on the one of the newest pawns in the game." Seeing that Sam and Dean were still confused it snickered, "Oh, you've played it before. It's a little game called the apocalypse."

"That's not possible," Dean managed to say.

"Oh it is!" the demon said cheerily. "You see, last time, we got a bit impatient, little did we know that not all of the pieces were on the board, or at least, they weren't in play yet. Now however…now, we plan on making sure they're all in play and that Lucifer will come out on top."

"What does this have to do with Sara?" Sam asked quietly.

The demon grinned, the expression looking quite wrong on Sara's face, "It's not a major role like you and your brother's, but it's an important one all the same. Though why it would be this little bitch…!"

Dean had reacted without thinking, back-handing the demon across the face as soon as the wrong left Sara's lips.

Sniggering, the demon went back to its original game, "Now why would you do that? The poor girl just wants her father to save her, but that wasn't expected at all. Aren't you the abusive father?"

"Do it!" Dean snapped at Sam taking several paces away, turning his back on the demon before he did something really rash.

Nodding Sam started to speak:

Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus

omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio

infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,

omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.

Ergo draco maledicte [*a]

et omnis legio diabolica

adjuramus te.

Cessa decipere humanas creaturas,

eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare.

Vade, Satana, inventor et magister

omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis.

Humiliare sub potenti manu dei,

contremisce et effuge, invocato a

nobis sancto et terribili nomine,

quem inferi tremunt.

Ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine.

Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire

te rogamus, audi nos.

Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris,

te rogamus, audi nos. [*b]

Terribilis Deus de sanctuario suo.

Deus Israhel ipse truderit virtutem

et fortitudinem plebi Suae.

Benedictus deus. Gloria patri.

As he spoke, Sara's face became contorted with pain, and soon she was screaming in pain, the chair moving back and forth across the circle due to the demon's powers. As he reached the last sentence, Sara's head was thrown back as black smoke erupted from her mouth and headed towards the ceiling and dissipated. Sara's head fell forward, hanging limply to the side.

Dean turned around worriedly once Sam finished, only to see Sam leaning over his daughter, his index and middle fingers on her neck as he felt for a pulse. Before Dean could ask, Sam said, relief evident in his voice, "She's all right…she's all right."

Hurrying over, Dean started to help Sam untie Sara from the chair. Once she was untied, Sam said, "I'm going to let the family know they can leave the kitchen."

Dean merely nodded as Sam left the room, listening as he heard his brother descending the stairs, and eventually Sam's footsteps faded. Tears came unbidden to his eyes and Dean took a deep breath, running his left hand over his face to keep them at bay. The whole thing could have been avoided if he'd taken more precautions to keep his daughter safe, the simplest being not to have taken her along to begin with. If I hadn't insisted on bringing her here; if I hadn't told her the truth about what Sammy and I do for a living, if I hadn't… His thoughts didn't get any further as he heard a slight moan. Whirling around, he was relieved to see Sara was awake, though she hadn't really moved.

Sara felt battered, more emotionally than physically, although her head did hurt where her uncle had punched her and where her father had struck her; it was still the emotional damage that was the greatest, the demon's taunting words ringing in her head still as it not only taunted her father and uncle, but her as well.

"Hey," Dean said softly as Sara lifted her head. "You're all right now." He felt like he had to explain his and Sam's actions, "When Sammy and I did what we did…it wasn't directed at you in any way it was at…"

"The demon. I know, Dad," Sara reassured her father. That much had been clear to her.

Relieved Dean asked, "How are you holding up?"

"All right," Sara lied, trying to push away the thoughts of the demon's words to her. Her father seemed worried enough as it was about her. No need to make it worse.

Not sure if he believed his daughter, Dean said, "Well then, let's head downstairs…"

---

It took them hours just to leave the house considering Mrs. Dobson, when not an emotional wreck, was quite a fierce woman and wanted them to not only clean up the salt they'd dumped in the kitchen, which had been an easy enough job, but she wanted them to get the Devil's Trap off the floor, which wasn't really possible. It'd taken a lot of convincing on Sam and Dean's part just to tell her the carpeting, if she really didn't want the Devil's Trap on it, would have to be removed and new carpeting put in. That didn't go over so well. It was only when Dean partially lied, saying he wanted to get Sara home so that she could rest was when Mrs. Dobson relented, temporarily forgetting about the carpet when she could relate to what she assumed Dean was going through.

Once they reached the hotel, the sun had set, and Sam noticed that Sara stuck close to him and Dean, this really shook her up…

Practically shooting inside when Dean opened their room door, Dean knew something was bothering Sara, and he was glad they'd switched hotels again, the one they were at in Platteville, and having two beds and a couch. About to claim the beds for himself and Sara, Sam beat him to the punch, "I'll take the couch."

"Fine by me," Dean said, hiding his surprise at Sam's kind gesture.

It didn't take long before they were all asleep, worn out by the day's work; but while Sam and Dean slept peacefully enough, Sara wasn't as lucky…

The demon sneered at her, "Look at how pathetic you are; always relying on Daddy to come to the rescue, oh how he must loathe you! Such a weak child! So easy to break! You can't even talk to your father without doubting yourself! Is it a wonder that they doubt if you can handle their lifestyle?! You're too weak! You've got no backbone! It'd been better if you hadn't been born! How could one such as you really play such a role in the apocalypse as has been predicted?!"

"None of that's true!" Sara shouted at it, trying to wrest back control of her body, even if only for a second to prove the demon wrong. "I'm not just a burden to them!"

"How could you not be a burden? Your father must regret the day he ever even laid eyes on you, much less took you back in!"

Waking up with a gasp, she lay trembling in bed for several seconds, trying to control her fast breathing. Sitting up in bed, still trembling, she got out of bed and walked over to her father's bed, touching his arm as she said, her voice barely audible, "Dad…"

She felt the muscles in his arm tense, and his arm move towards either a knife or gun that she knew must be under his pillow, her first guess being a gun, but then he realized it was her and relaxed a bit as he asked, "What's wrong, kiddo."

"Can…" she had to get up the nerve to ask her question, the demon's words still echoing in her head, "Can I sleep with you?"

Dean sat up then, reaching over and turning on one of the two lamps over the bedside table, "What's wrong?"

She didn't know what to say, either way, the demon's words sounded truthful in her head, "How he must loathe you! Your father must regret the day he ever even laid eyes on you, much less took you back in! You're weak!"

"I…I had a bad dream…" she finally answered, not meeting his gaze.

Dean's gaze became thoughtful as he looked at his daughter for several minutes, though to her, it felt like ages. Finally, he asked, "What did that demon say to you?"

"Nothing," Sara answered quickly. Dean raised one of his eyebrows at her skeptically. "It said that I was weak…easy to break…that you must be disappointed in me…" She managed to summarize.

Dean's gaze was still thoughtful, "Demons lie, kiddo. It's what they do. It's why you never trust what one says."

Her trembling became worse, as tears sprang up in her eyes, "But it's true!"

"I'm not disappointed in you," Dean reassured her, setting his left hand on her shoulder to get her attention. Her eyes showed her disbelief, and Dean said more firmly, "I'm not disappointed in you."

"But I am weak," Sara whispered, her tears finally falling.

Not meaning to keep silent, Dean had to think of what to say to reassure his daughter that she wasn't weak. After several seconds, he asked her quietly, "Demons like that don't normally take their sweet old times in drawing weapons. Why do you think it took so long for it to pull out and aim the gun?"

Sara shook her head, "I don't know…"

"Yeah you do," Dean said. "Think about it a bit."

It was a bit hard for Sara to pin down the memory of what happened at that time, her mind still replaying all that the demon said, but eventually, she did capture the memory. She had been struggling to gain control, just like she'd been trying to do the whole time. "It just wanted to take things slow…"

"Is that what the demon said?" He questioned. Sara nodded. "Think a bit harder on it."

The memory became clearer, she could recall having a vague feeling of her arm and hand, and the demon's tone changing slightly at that point up until she lost the feeling, but by then, her father had spotted the movement and reacted.

Dean smiled as he saw the realization enter his daughter's eyes, "You're definitely not weak, kiddo." As Sara wiped her eyes, Dean went back to the original question she asked, "I think it'd be better if you went back to your own bed to get some sleep." Seeing the nervousness in his daughter's eyes, he added, "I'll sit next to you…at least until you fall asleep."

Now reassured, Sara crawled back into her own bed, and Dean sat down on her right side, his legs stretched out in front of him as he reclined against the wall. Sara scooted close to him, her back pressing against his hip and thigh. Unable to stop himself from smirking at her sneakiness of making sure he didn't leave her during the night, he said quietly, "Try to get some sleep."

"Okay…" Sara took a deep breath and added, "Dad…I love you."

Dean gazed down at her, immensely glad that Sara's eyes were closed so that she couldn't see the shock on his face. The shock faded though as he said, "I love you too."

Listening to his daughter's breathing, he had every intention of going back to his own bed once she was asleep. He rested his chin on his chest and closed his eyes, only planning on resting them for a second, but that was all it took for him to drift asleep.

---

Sara woke up the next morning, and lifted her head groggily trying to figure out who or what was walking around the room, as she sat up, she spotted her father at the door, about to head out.

About to open the door to head out, Dean noticed his daughter, and took his hand off the doorknob, walking back over to her, "Did you sleep better?"

"Yeah…thanks, Dad," Sara answered.

Dean nodded in approval, "Good." He ruffled her hair, "Hey, I was going to head out and pick up breakfast…want to come with?"

"Yeah!" Sara said happily.

Chuckling, Dean said, "Well hurry up and change, I'll meet you in the car."

Still smiling as he walked out the door, he didn't get into the Impala once he was outside. Instead he leaned against the hood lost in his own thoughts until Sara came outside a few minutes later.

"Hop in," he said as he walked towards the driver's side door and got in.

On a whim, Dean asked, "What do you say you and I find a local diner and just eat their, maybe bring something back for Sammy from a store on the way back?"

"Sure!" Sara said, not wanting to miss an opportunity to spend time with her father.

"All right then," Dean said, smiling as he pulled out of the hotel parking lot.

---

Sam was rudely awakened as the hotel room door was thrown open and Dean shouted, "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

"Guh," Sam muttered, still half asleep. He asked once he was a bit more awake, "How is it that you're up earlier than I am?"

Dean threw a grocery bag to Sam, avoiding the question, "Here's breakfast!"

Opening up the bag, Sam frowned, "Why is this box the only thing in here."

"Because, while you were snoring away, Sara and I explored the town," Dean answered brightly.

That explains your good mood, Sam thought. Opening up the box, he glared at Dean, "Donuts…really?"

"It was either those or some creepy looking muffins," Dean answered, grinning. Sara was barely managing to contain her laughter.

Shaking his head, Sam set the box aside, "I think I'll eat later."

"Suit yourself," Dean said.

Changing the subject, Sam asked, "What time do you want to drive back to Dodgeville so that I can see if those packages came in yet."

"Actually…"

---

"I don't want a tattoo!" Sara protested from the back seat of the Impala as they all headed into the downtown area of Platteville.

Dean questioned, "So you prefer demon possession?"

"No-but…!" Sara didn't really have an argument against that, so she changed tactics, "Isn't this a bit backwards? I mean I'm supposed to be the one wanting the tattoo and you're supposed to be against it."

"Too bad I'm not a typical parent," Dean stated.

Sam added, "Good try though."

Dean parked the Impala outside a building, the front window decorated with a large, evil looking black cat, the words beneath it reading: Black Cat Tattoo.

"Come on," Dean said, getting out of the car, though he left the keys in. Reluctantly, Sara got out of the car as well and followed him.

Dean said to Sam as Sam walked towards the drivers' side of the Impala, "Try to be back here within two hours."

I hope it doesn't take that long! Sara thought, still not thrilled with the idea of getting a tattoo.

"Right," Sam said, giving her a sympathetic glance.

At least Uncle Sammy is acting normally again, she thought as she followed her father into the building.

Dean spoke with the woman minding the front desk, and even signed some papers before he led Sara over to some chairs to wait.

"Dad…is it true that getting a tattoo hurts?" Sara asked.

Dean lied, "No, it doesn't hurt."

It didn't take long for someone to call her name, and Dean walked in with her to show the guy who would be doing the tattoo what design he was supposed to be doing, drawing the tattoo in great detail on a sheet of paper before he left the room, feeling Sara's eyes on his back. He reassured her, "It'll be fine!"

Sara felt a bit abandoned in the room when her father left, but she took comfort in the fact that he said it wouldn't hurt.

---

Left to his own thoughts as he sat in the waiting room, praying the guy doing the tattoo would get the tattoo right so that his daughter would be protected from demon possession in the future, just like he and Sam already were, his thoughts went to the fire and shadow demon.

"Enjoy your year with her, because at the end of it, you'll lose her…"

At first, Dean's thought went right to the fact that he couldn't bear the thought of losing his daughter, and he knew he had to figure out a way to make sure the demon's promise didn't come to pass, but as he recalled that salt didn't work against the demon, his thoughts started to go elsewhere, more towards how he didn't want her life…her young life to end so soon. She had barely experienced the world, and though there were a lot of crappy things in it, there were some great ones too. A plan slowly started to form in his mind, and a smirk appeared on his face.

---

At the Dodgeville Post Office, Sam was quickly addressing an envelope to Jody Mills in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Once he finished, he placed two smaller envelopes and a hastily written letter inside before sealing it before he handed it to the worker at the desk who weighed it, and then said, "That'll be two-fifty." Paying the amount, he then asked, "Did any packages arrive for Sam Winchester?"

---

Dean smiled at his daughter, who simply glared at him in return. Surprised, he stood up and asked, "How'd it go?"

"You lied," Sara grouched.

Dean blinked, still surprised, "Pardon?"

"It hurt," Sara elaborated, glaring up at him.

"Well…I guess I bent the truth a bit," Dean said innocently.

Unable to keep glaring after her father said that, she shook her head, smiling.

"Turn around so I can make sure it was done properly," he said. Once she had her back to him, he pulled down her shirt collar to look at the tattoo that was centered in between her shoulder blades. It was identical to the ones that he and Sam had on their chests, and Dean nodded in approval.

"Does it sting a bit?" Dean asked her.

Sara nodded, "Yeah…"

"It'll probably sting for a couple hours, but you should be fine after that," Dean said calmly as he led the way out of the tattoo parlor.

Sara wasn't sure if she should believe him or not as she followed outside.

The Impala pulled up as they got outside, and Dean nodded in approval as Sam got out of the car. "They came in," Sam reassured Dean, gesturing to the back seat where a couple of boxes were sitting.

"Thank God!" Dean said, obviously relieved. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

"Where are we heading next?" Sara questioned as she followed her father to the drivers' side of the Impala.

Sam was the one who answered, "It sounds like there's something supernatural in Idaho."

"Any idea what it might be?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head, "I have some ideas, but none that are definite."

"Let's get going then," Dean said brightly, simply ecstatic to finally be leaving southwest Wisconsin.

---

They stopped for the night in Cokeville, Wyoming and once Dean was positive that Sara and Sam were sound asleep, he went outside and got into the Impala, driving out of town until he reached a crossroads.

Getting out of the car, he opened the trunk, pulling out a small box and a shovel. Dean walked to the middle of the crossroads and dug a small hole, large enough to accommodate the box. Double checking the contents of the box, which included a photograph of himself, graveyard dirt, and a black cat bone to name most of the contents. As he set the box into the hole, Dean closed his eyes before he opened them once more and buried the box. Standing up once more, he looked around. When he saw that no one was around he shouted, "Come out! I know you're there!"

"And what could the great, Dean Winchester possibly want?" a female voice asked behind him, and Dean whipped around to face a woman dressed in a black dress, her dark brown hair hanging down to her shoulders, and her brown eyes flashing to red for a split second.

Taking a deep breath, Dean answered her, "I want to make a deal."