**Hey! Hope you like this chapter! You shouldn't get confused, but in case you do: 3rd person for the flashbacks first for the present time! Thanks so much for reading; I love you guys! Also, thank you so much to Ladysunshine6 and JamieSpencer4 for PMing me your ideas they're really helpful! So, here's the chapter; hope you like it! Review!**

Something Wicked This Way Comes

"Yeah, cause you probably missed something, that's why," Dean replied sharply to Sam's skeptical protests, glancing at me in the passenger's seat and then back at Sam.

"Dude, we ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers - we didn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?" Sam asked, listing the research we'd done earlier that morning. Dean had gotten a text with coordinates from an unknown number, who I was willing to bet money was John Winchester.

"Yeah, he got them right. I checked," I responded, my eyes flicking to the rearview and then back down at the articles I was flipping through. So far there had been nothing out of the ordinary, but that didn't mean we wouldn't find something. "Fitchburg, Wisconsin," I repeated the name of the town we were headed towards at ninety miles per hour.

"Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy," Dean added for good measure, and Sam sighed in frustration, looking out the window at the countryside we were passing.

"Well, we looked, and all we found was a big, steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what," A rustle of pages followed Sam's words as he shoved the printed out police reports from the last year off his lap.

"Look, not all the thing we hunt kill people right away. Maybe he's sending us to kill the thing before it has the chance to start killing," I pointed out, a twist in my gut telling me that I was probably right.

"Right. Or maybe he's gonna meet us there," Dean voiced what we were all secretly hoping for. Sam scoffed at his words and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, cause he's been so easy to find up to this point," Sam's cynicism wasn't exactly unprovoked, and the sinking feeling I got backed up his claim. If John wanted to meet, he would've just found us. He wouldn't have sent coordinates. Coordinates were for hunts.

"You're a real smartass, you know that?" Dean commented, throwing Sam a look in the mirror, but I saw the small smile tugging at his lips.

"Where do you think he gets it from?" I glanced at Dean with a smile, and he smiled back. It was good to see him genuinely smile; lately, he'd seemed preoccupied by something. At first, it hadn't been that noticeable. He'd hold me a little tighter, he'd kiss me a little longer, and he'd occasionally zone out. It was becoming more and more noticeable every day.

"Besides, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing," His smile dropped suddenly, and he turned back to the road.

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Sam challenged, and I suppressed a sigh. Lately, the three of us had been getting tenser and tenser. Part of it was lack of sleep; we'd only had a total of three hours in the past four days. Sam was like a hunting machine with a new one waiting just when we finished the old one. Along with no sleep, Sam had been snappish, always second guessing Dean at every turn, and it seemed like he was always ready to kill any son of a bitch that crossed our path, which in our line of work was usually a good thing but it was unlike Sam.

"Because out of the three of us I'm oldest, which means I'm always right," Sam and I snorted in disbelief at Dean's flimsy reply.

"No, it definitely does not," I argued, and he glanced at me.

"What are you talking about? It totally does," I abandoned the pretense of paying attention to the articles and looked at Dean. "Name one time I was wrong,"

"Madison, Lincoln, Augustus, Richarville, Anatowa," I started listing, holding back a laugh at his incredulous features.

"Lincoln was not my fault," He argued, but I saw the happy smile growing on his lips again. "I got some bad information,"

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," He turned to me with a response ready, but it seemed to die on his lips as he looked at me. I was stunned to see a hint of fear in his eyes as I gazed into their green depths. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he leaned over and kissed me gently before pulling back again. I blinked in surprise, for he rarely did anything like that while Sammy was in the car. We didn't hide our relationship, but we weren't overly lovey dovey in front of Sam.

"Dean, focus on the road!" Sam's snap made Dean tear his eyes from me and look back at the road.

"Relax, Sammy. I got it," He rolled his eyes at his brother's concern while I frowned a bit, studying his too pale face and tired eyes. We'd had enough caffeine in the past four days to run a moderately popular coffee shop for five hours, and we were used to not sleeping, but I could see the sleeplessness was starting to take a toll on Dean and I hated watching him suffer. I forced my eyes away from where they'd been studying his face and out the window to see a green sign welcoming us to Fitchburg.

"Here," I pointed to the side of the road as we began passing numerous small shops and restaurants. Dean parked, and the three of us got out. I looked at Dean's exhausted features before my eyes flicked across the street to the small, quaint looking restaurant that stood there. "Come on," I took Dean's and started for the street before turning back to face Sam. "We'll go get some coffee, and be right back. You want anything?"

"Yeah, Decaf," I nodded, already knowing Sam's order. Dean and I crossed the street and headed into the restaurant.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong?" I questioned Dean as we stood behind a couple that was placing their order with the waitress.

"Nothing's wrong," He shrugged and gave me a cocky grin. "Everything's fine, especially you," He added, and I hit him in the arm lightly while he laughed. Just as before the laugh slipped off his face suddenly, replaced by a slight frown before he turned to the menu that was posted behind the waitress.

"Seriously, you've been acting weird for the past couple of days," My eyebrows drew together in concern as the couple in front of us got their coffee and left.

"I have not," He disagreed before turning to the waitress. "Three coffees, one black, one decaf, and one with cream no sugar," Dean relayed the order to her as she plugged it into the computer.

"It'll be one moment," She informed us with a big smile.

"We're new to this town, and a friend said they heard something weird was going on," The waitress frowned and bit her lip unsurely before finally shaking her head. "Are you sure?" I questioned, and suddenly her eyes widened.

"Well," She leaned forward like it was a big secret. "Between us, the Freemasons, the couple in the back over there, I think they're up to something," She narrowed her eyes at the two while I tried not to roll mine.

"Anna!" She glanced back before excusing herself and hurrying into the back room.

"So, that gave us nothing," Dean summed up dejectedly as I studied his features intently as if his face could tell me what he'd been thinking about for the past couple of days. "Mel, I'm fine," He leaned down and kissed me softly as if to prove his point, but I was anything but convinced.

"And what about the car? What was that?" I inquired, crossing my arms over my chest, and I just caught the frown before he hid it.

"Can't a man kiss his girlfriend?" He returned the question, raising his eyebrows at me as the waiter came back with the coffee, and he payed.

"Not while he's driving and in front of his kid brother," I tried to get my point across, but I knew the conversation was going to keep going in circles. Dean would only open up when he wanted too, but it was driving me insane seeing him so distant.

"Never stopped us before," I couldn't stop a smile from spreading across my lips as he said that, and we crossed the street to where Sam was leaning against the Impala.

"Well, the waitress thinks that the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, nobody's heard anything weird going on," Dean handed Sam his coffee as he talked and began heading to the driver's seat.

"Guys, you got the time?" Sam questioned, and I knew that voice. I followed his gaze to where he was looking at a playground. Dean checked the watch I'd gotten him a couple years ago for his birthday.

"10 after 4:00. Why?" My eyes widened as I suddenly understood what Sam was getting at. The playground was absolutely deserted save for one kid playing on the swings, and a woman sitting on the bench reading a book.

"There's no children," I frowned, glancing back at Dean. "School's out, right?" I checked.

"Yeah," Sam replied for Dean. "This place should be crawling with kids right now," My eyes fell on the woman; we needed to talk to her.

"Come on," Dean intertwined our fingers and pulled me with him as he started towards the woman who was studying a book intently. "It sure is quiet out here," The woman looked up at us, slightly startled by our sudden arrival.

"Yeah, it's a shame," I frowned at her choice of words.

"What's a shame?" I questioned as she turned her attention to the playground.

"You know, kids getting sick. It's a terrible thing," I nodded along with her like I knew all about what she was saying.

"How many?" Dean asked while she turned her eyes downward to her book again.

"Just five or six, but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching," My eyes found the petite girl, who couldn't have been older than seven or eight, climbing down the bars. Macey. I winced as the name rushed through my mind. I hadn't seen her in… a year and a half now. Had it really been that long? I felt the weight of my phone in the back pocket of the jean shorts I was wearing, and my hands itched to dial Jez's number. One car ride and I would see her and Dustin and their daughter, Macey, and son, Jeremy. A year and a half.

"We better head off. We don't want to be late," I was snapped out of my memories by Dean's voice, and I nodded and followed him back to the car. On the way to the hospital, we filled Sam in on what the woman had said. Dean parked outside the hospital's main entrance and handed Sam and I I.D.s before we headed inside.

"Wait, guys, I am not using this I.D.," Sam came up beside Dean and I and showed us the I.D., looking mortified.

"Why not?" Dean questioned as I took the I.D. and grinned at the fine print before handing it back.

"Seems fine to me," I shrugged, and Sam looked incredulously at us.

"It says 'Bikini inspector' on it," Dean's smile widened as he glanced at me and winked.

"Don't worry. She won't look that close," He tried to calm his brother down. "Hell, she won't even ask to see it," I regarded the kid for a moment as he rolled his eyes at Dean's words.

"It's about being confident, Sammy," I added, and he gave me a look that didn't last long for Dean turned him and shoved him at the desk as we walked past.

"Hi," I heard him begin awkwardly. "I'm Dr. Jerry Kaplan, center for disease control," He told her, sounding anything but confident, as we stood a little ways away, listening to him stumble his way through the lie.

"Can I see some I.D.?" Dean made a noise in the back of his throat in an attempt to stifle the laugh, and I couldn't stop the small sound from escaping my tight lips.

"Yeah, of course," Sam answered after shooting us a glare. He grabbed the I.D. from his coat, showing it to her briefly before continuing, "Now, could you direct me to the pediatrics ward, please?"

"Okay, just go down that hall, turn left, up the stairs. You'll see them," She told him kindly, and Sam thanked her before heading back to us with a furious look on his face.

"See? We told you it would work," Sam towered over Dean, glaring stormily at him.

"Follow me. It's upstairs," He practically growled before stalking past us.

"Almost wish he'd gotten caught," Dean mused with a grin, and I couldn't help but let out the laugh I'd been holding.

"There's still time," I pointed out, causing Dean to laugh. "We're horrible," I reflected as we started up the stairs after Sam.

"Ah, we're not so bad," Dean slipped an arm around my waist, and I frowned slightly. We never acted like a couple while we were undercover as officers. Never. John had taught us that almost as soon as he found out we were dating. His arm slipped from my waist, and I took a couple more steps before realizing Dean wasn't following. I put a hand on Sam's arm to stop him and looked at where Dean was gazing into a room, looking lost in thought.

"Dean," I prompted, and he tore his gaze from the room to me.

"Yeah," He caught up with us, and we continued walking to the pediatrics ward. We introduced ourselves to Dr. Hydaker, who ran the ward, and he kindly offered to help with anything.

"Thanks for seeing us Dr. Hydaker," Dean started the conversation.

"Oh, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call the CDC myself. How did you find out, anyway?" He questioned us as he fiddled with his pager before hooking it on his belt.

"Friend of the boss lives in town. She informed him," I covered as we passed along a glass window that revealed six kids all seeming to be asleep on beds in a large room. "So, six cases so far?" I returned the attention to the children.

"Yeah," The doctor sighed, hanging his head before looking back at us. "In five weeks," We came to a stop, and I looked in on the unmoving children. "At first we thought it was bacterial pneumonia, not that newsworthy. But now…" He trailed off, shaking his head as I noticed the dark rims around all of the kids' eyes.

"Now, what?" Sam prompted, and I turned back to the doctor.

"The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white-cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are wearing out,"

"Excuse me, Doctor Hydaker?" There was a small voice behind him, and a nurse came bustling up with a clipboard clutched in her left hand.

"You ever seen anything like this before?" She handed him the clipboard and pen as Sam asked his question.

"Never this severe," The doctor admitted.

"The way it spreads - that's a new one for me," The nurse added as the doctor signed.

"What's different about the way it spreads?" I asked curiously.

"Well, it works it's way through families, but only the children, one sibling after another." She explained, and I frowned as something tugged in the back of my mind.

"You mind if we interview a few of the kids?" Dean questioned them, and the two exchanged a look.

"They're not conscious," The nurse finally told us, and my eyes snapped to her face in shock.

"None of them?" Sam asked in surprise.

"No," She confirmed, but my mind was already going through a list of possibilities.

"What about the parents? Can we talk to them?" I asked, my eyes going back to the pale children. The doctor just shrugged, handing the clipboard back to the nurse.

"If you think it'll help," He agreed, shaking his head in resignation.

"Yeah, yeah. Who was your most recent admission?" Dean questioned, and the doctor's eyes flew past us for a moment before refocusing.

"That's the father right there," He nodded, and I glanced back down the hallway at the man coming up the way.

"Excuse me, sir, would you mind stepping into the waiting room and answering a few questions?" I asked him kindly, and he looked at the doctor in confusion.

"It's all right. They're from the center of disease control. They're here to help," The man finally nodded and sat in a chair in the waiting room while we stood in front of him.

"I should get back to my girls," He glanced agitatedly down the hallway to the room where his daughter was in a coma.

"We understand that," Sam assured him. "And we really appreciate you talking to us. Now, you say Mary's the oldest?" He checked, and the man nodded in assent.

"13," Was all he said by way of answer.

"And she became sick first, right? And after…" I let the sentence hang, realizing I didn't know his second daughter's name.

"Bethany the next night," He finished for me, nodding and shifting in his seat.

"Within 24 hours?" Sam mused, and the guy shrugged.

"I guess," He answered indifferently, throwing another glance down the hallway. "Look, I already went through all this with the doctor," He told us in annoyance.

"Right. Just a few more questions, if you don't mind," The man nodded reluctantly at Dean's words. "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold, anything like that?"

"No, we think it was an open window," He looked down at his clasped hands as he answered.

"An open window?" I repeated. Why did that sound familiar? "And that would be both times?"

"The first time, I don't really remember, but the second time for sure, and I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed," He looked right into our eyes as he spoke.

"So you think she opened it?" Sam sounded politely skeptical.

"It's a second story window, no ledge. No one else could have," He responded, which made our next move pretty clear: we had to check out his house. As weird as that sounded.

"Thank for your time. You can go now," He nodded gratefully at my words and rushed off to see how his daughters were doing.

"You know," Sam started as we continued down the hallway to the exit doors. "This might not be anything supernatural. It might just be pneumonia," I shook my head even before he was done speaking.

"Maybe. Or maybe something opened that window," Dean suggested.

"Look, John wouldn't have sent us here for nothing. There's a hunt here. We just have to find it," I tried to sound more confident than I felt.

"She's right. I think we might be barking up the right tree," Dean agreed, grinning slightly before his grin dropped as he looked at me.

"I'll tell you one thing," Dean and I turned questioningly to Sam as he began. "That guy we just talked to… I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes home,"

"I like your thinking, Sammy," He gave me a small smile as the three of us headed down the hallway.

Getting the address of the guy wasn't hard. Neither was sneaking into his house since his neighbors happened to be away, and his house was about as secure as an open dog cage. Currently, I was going over the bedroom with an EMF while Sam and swept the room with a blue light.

"You got anything over there?" Sam called, and I shook my head even though he was faced the other way.

"No, nothing," Dean answered at the same time I said "Nope,"

"Yeah, me neither," Sam agreed dejectedly, and I heard the click of a window open.

"Hey, guys?" Sam spoke from where he was looking at the windowsill.

"Yeah?" I phrased the word as a question as I came to stand by Sam and look down on the mark.

"You two were right. It's not pneumonia," I felt Dean come to stand on my left, and he stiffened immediately after he saw it. "It's rotted. What the hell leaves a handprint like that?" Unfortunately, I knew.

-3rd Person-

"All right," John came out of the bedroom and cocked the shotgun, looking determined. "You both know the drill. If anyone calls, you don't pick up," He set the dark green duffel on the table with a grunt of effort. "If it's me, I'll ring once and then call back. You got that?"

"Mm-hmm. Don't answer the phone unless it rings once first," Dean repeated while Mel nodded dutifully from where she was standing beside him, looking up at John.

"Come on, dude," John spoke to his son alone now. "Look alive. This stuff's important,"

"I know. It's just, we've done it like a million times, and, you know we're not stupid," John moved the bag to the kitchen counter and almost smiled at his son's indignant tone as Mel and Dean followed him.

"I know you're not, but it only takes one mistake, you got that?" They both nodded again, and he turned back to his work. "All right, if I'm not back Sunday night…"

"Call my dad," Mel spoke up, and John nodded. "And if he doesn't answer, then Pastor Jim," She added, and John zipped his back, satisfied with her response. His eyes followed her as she went to the couch to sit next to Sammy, who glanced at her but kept watching. He knew he was patronizing them both, but if anything happened to any one of the three kids… it would destroy him. He'd barely survived loosing Mary. He couldn't loose his kids.

"Lock the doors and windows, close the shades, and most important-" John started, focusing on Dean.

"Watch out for Sammy and Mel," Dean finished without having to be told the second part.

"All right. If something tries to bust in…" John trailed off, waiting for his son to respond.

"Shoot first, ask questions later," He answered his father.

"That's my man," Dean stated proudly, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder. Mel looked up from the couch as she heard the door open. "Make sure they stay out of trouble, Mel," She nodded, her hazel eyes determined and serious. John shut the door, leaving the three kids alone. Dean looked back and met Mel's eyes with sad acceptance in his. Wordlessly, she offered him a small smile and scooted over. He sat next to her.

-1st Person-

"I know why dad sent us here," Dean cleared his throat and straightened before continuing. "He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job," Dean looked down at the handprint, and I slipped my fingers through his, knowing what he was remembering.


"What the hell is a Shtriga?" Sam questioned as we got out of the car that Dean had parked in front of the motel.

"It's kind of like a witch, I think," Dean replied as I went around to the back of the car and opened the trunk. "We don't know much about them,"

"Well, I've never heard of it, and it's not in Dad's journal," Sam told us as Dean took a bag out and handed it to him.

"John hunted one near here, it was Fort Douglas. Long time ago, like 16, 17 years," I informed him while Dean was rummaging through another bag.

"You were there. You don't remember?" Dean questioned, and Sam shook his head skeptically. "I guess he caught wind that the thing's in Fitchburg now, and kicked us the coordinates,"

"So, wait, this…" Sam started, trying to find the word.

"Shtriga," I supplied.

"Right, you think it's the same one Dad hunted before?" Sam continued curiously.

"Yeah, maybe," Dean shrugged, shutting the trunk as we walked towards the door to the office.

"If Dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?" Sam asked a good question, and I knew that the answer was hard for Dean.

"It got away," I answered for him.

"Got away?" Sam echoed in disbelief.

"Yeah, Sammy, it happens," Dean was getting annoyed and he turned to face his brother. I stopped, wary of the scene that was unfolding before me.

"Not very often," Sam shook his head, and I could tell he knew we weren't telling him something.

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. I mean, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning," Dean snarked, throwing his hands out to the side before he turned and kept walking.

"What else do you two remember?" Sam questioned, remaining still as Dean pushed the door open before glancing at me.

"Nothing. I we were kids, all right?" Dean answered for both of us before he shut the door behind him. Sam's eyes turned on me, and I could feel them burning holes in my side as I gazed after Dean.

"Just let it go, Sammy," I prayed he'd take my advice, but I knew he wouldn't. Sam was always the curious one. The one that had to know why and what and who.

"What aren't you two telling me?" I sighed, ignoring the question and began walking towards the office only to have Sam catch my arm. "Mel, please. If it's something to do with this case I need to know," I turned to look him in the eyes as I replied.

"Sorry, Sam," I shook my head, ripping my arm from his grip. "It's Dean's story to tell," I followed my boyfriend into the office.

"Yeah, I bet," I heard the kid mutter as I walked to the door.

"What'd you say?" I heard the hard edge to Dean's voice and suppressed another sigh. We were all on edge, and we were all exhausted.

"Nice car," The kid gave a fake smile as I walked up next to Dean and his eyes widened slightly.

"Hi," I turned to see a woman open the door and hurry in. "Checking in?" Dean and I nodded, and she turned to the kid. "Uh, do me a favor. Go get your brother some dinner,"

"I'm helping guests," He gestured to us, and my mouth twitched up into a smile. His mother gave him a look, and finally he sighed. "Two rooms, kings," The kid glanced at me and then back to Dean and smirked before leaving.

"He's pretty funny," I commented, nodding to the retreating kid.

"Oh, yeah, he thinks so," The woman spoke distractedly from where she was studying the guest book. "Will that be cash or credit?"

"Do you take Mastercard?" Dean questioned, and the woman smiled and nodded. "Perfect," Dean laid the card down on the table and the lady took it and swiped.

"You're all set," I took the card from her with a smile, but my eyes were trained on the kid from earlier, who was pouring milk into a glass for his younger brother.

-3rd Person-

Mel watched as Dean poured his little brother a glass of the milk that she'd gone out to get that afternoon. Her eyes dropped to the empty bowl in front of Sammy, and she moved to grab the pot from the stove. None of the boys knew how to cook, so, even though she was only eleven, the duty fell to her. Today, however, she'd had to get the milk, so Dean had been the one to make the canned meal.

"When's Dad gonna get back?" Sammy asked curiously as Dean reached the pot at the same time Mel did.

"Tomorrow," Mel responded, and then added to Dean as he reached for the pot handle. "You have to wrap something around it," His hand froze inches away from the handle, and she handed him a dishtowel. "It'll burn you. It's not supposed to, but it does," She'd learned that the hard way.

"When?" Sam persisted as Dean took the pot to the table and began pouring it in Sammy's bowl.

"I don't know. He usually comes in late, though," Dean answered as best he could. "Now, eat your dinner,"

"I'm sick of Scabetti-Os," Mel couldn't blame him; they were all sick of Scabetti-Os.

"Well, you're the one who wanted them," Dean told him in annoyance, and Sammy shook his head of dark curls at his older brother.

"Dean," Mel's voice warned him. She'd gotten good at stopping fights between the two before they happened. It had been a month since she'd last seen her dad and sister, which meant a month of living with Sam and Dean. Not that she minded. She loved the two of them dearly, but it still hurt that her sister and dad were off saving everybody and leaving her behind. "What do you want, Sammy?"

"I want Lucky Charms," He told the two of them, and Mel's heart sunk. She and Dean had been saving those for themselves. It had become something of a tradition for them. Every Sunday morning they'd watch cartoons with a bowl of Lucky Charms cereal.

"There's no more Lucky Charms," Her eyes widened a bit at Dean's lie; he rarely ever lied to Sam.

"I saw the box," Sammy insisted, and Mel sighed.

"Okay, maybe there is, but there's only enough left for two bowls, and we're saving it for tomorrow," Dean glanced at Mel and then back to Sammy. Sammy turned his gaze on Mel pleadingly, and she looked at Dean, who sighed in frustration before getting a different bowl and the cereal box while Mel dumped out the bowl of Scabetti-Os and put it in the sink. Sammy fished around for a moment before grabbing the toy and holding it out to Dean as a peace offering.

"Do you want the prize?" His big innocent eyes looked up at them, and Dean just crossed his arms over his chest. Mel took the toy from Sammy's outstretched hand and smiled at the boy who might as well have been her brother.

"Thanks, Sammy," She unwrapped it and held the ring in the palm of her hand before slipping it on her finger. "I love it," She announced, smiling at the kid, who beamed back before going back to his cereal. Dean stormed over to the couch and sat brooding while Mel slipped over to the counter and reached behind the toaster for what she'd hidden there earlier, before she sat next to Dean on the couch.

"I shouldn't have given it to him," He looked at her with an almost apologetic look that made her smile.

"It's okay," She took out the paper bag from behind her back. "I thought it was sweet," She slid out the cookie and offered it to him. His eyes widened and flicked to Sam before focusing back on the cookie. "We had some extra money left," She explained in answer to his unasked question. "It's your reward," She waved it in front of his face as if he were a dog, making him grin.

"Shut up," He rolled his eyes but couldn't quite wipe the dumb grin off of his face as she shoved him lightly. He took the cookie from her and broke it in half, handing her the bigger half. He watched her smile in bliss as she bit into the cookie.

-1st Person-

"Dean," I gently touched his shoulder, and he seemed to snap out of whatever daydream he'd been having. He looked down at me, and I saw the same look from before clearly splayed out across his features. He seemed haunted by something. "Are you okay?" He blinked and took the card from my hand, shoving it into his wallet.

"Yeah," He cleared his throat as the woman handed him the receipt, and he signed. Sam went to his room, and Dean and I went to drop our stuff off in ours before we would head back to Sam's for research. I tossed my stuff on the floor beside the bed and turned just as Dean was beginning to leave.

"Hey," I caught his arm, and he turned to face me with his expression surprisingly guarded. I'd never seen that look aimed at me before. He'd always been open with me. "Dean, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" He questioned, and I frowned at his playing dumb.

"You know what I mean," I told him, growing slightly annoyed and folding my hands over my chest.

"I love you," He looked into my eyes as he said those words. The determination battled with fear and warmth burning in his green eyes as he gazed into my hazel ones made my heart speed up.

"Dean, you're scaring me," I spoke softly. "Is something wrong?" He just shook his head and walked out the door, leaving me to follow him, still breathing shakily.

"You were right," Sam announced as we entered his room to find him already bent over a computer. "It wasn't very easy to find, but you were right. A shtriga is a kind of witch," Dean went straight to the coffee machine, making two. "They're Albanian, but legends about them date back to ancient Rome. They feed off of spiritus vitae,"

"Which is…?" I prompted, trying to forget the confusing conversation I'd just had, and I walked over to the bed, nudging Sam to scoot over, which he did.

"Spiritus vitae. It's latin. It translates to breath of life," Sam frowned at me. "Didn't you take latin in high school?" I had taken a short class for three weeks on it, but instead of answering, I just shrugged and he continued. "Kind of like your life force or essence,"

"Didn't the doctor say the kids' bodies were wearing out?" Dean recalled, and I nodded.

"It's a thought," Sam agreed. "You know, some Roman's thought she takes your vitality, maybe your immune system goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold," I leaned over Sam's shoulder to scan the page he was reading.

"It says that they can feed off of anyone, but guess who they prefer?" I glanced up to see Dean coming over to hand me a cup of coffee that I accepted gratefully.

"Children," He answered my half rhetorical question.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Probably because they have stronger life force, and, get this, shtrigas are invulnerable to all weapons devised by god and man," Sam finished dejectedly.

"No, that's not right. She's vulnerable when she feeds," Dean glanced at me quickly before his eyes focused on Sam's questioning face.

"What?" Sam asked incredulously as Dean went over to unzip the dark green duffel.

"Dean's right. If you get her while she's eating, consecrated wrought irons will do the trick," I agreed, remembering the first time John tried to kill this thing.

"Yeah, buckshots or rounds, I think," Dean added, taking the journal and going back to his coffee.

"How do you two know that?" Sam asked the inevitable question.

"Dad told me," Dean shrugged as he sat on the chair in front of the books. "I remember,"

"So, uh, anything else Dad might have mentioned?" Dean glanced up from the journal at Sam and then met my eyes.

"No, that's it," He lied, and Sam turned to me and then back to Dean.

"What?" I asked him, frowning at his narrowed eyes.

"Nothing," He shook his head. "Okay, so, assuming we can kill it when it eats, we've still got to find the thing first, which ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take a human disguise when they're not hunting," Sam explained getting up from the bed and going over to his brother while I commandeered his laptop.

"What kind of human disguise?" Dean questioned, and I knew that voice. He already had a suspect.

"Historically, something innocuous. It could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman, which may be how the whole witches-as-old-crones legends got started," Sammy informed us, and Dean straightened.

"Hang on," He went over to some papers that were in a stack on the chair.

"What? Find something?" I inquired, getting up from the laptop and going over to Dean.

"Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims," He spread out the map, so I could see the red xs over the houses where the children got sick. "Now, these are the houses that have been hit so far, and dead center -"

"The hospital," I whispered, frowning. That couldn't be a coincidence.

"The hospital," Dean agreed. "When we were there, I saw a patient, an old woman,"

"An old person, huh?" Sam echoed, and Dean nodded confirmation while I mulled over the details. "In the hospital?" Dean and I both looked at him, realizing at the same time he was being a smartass. "Whoo. Better call the coast guard," I bit my lip as I struggled with a smile.

"Well, listen, smartass, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall," Sam's grin faded to be replaced by a look of seriousness.


"Good night, Doctor Hydaker," I pulled Dean and Sam against the wall as I heard the nurse from earlier part ways with Doctor Hydaker. It had been surprisingly easy to sneak into the hospital after dark, and now the only tricky part was avoiding security and the nurses. Dr. Hydaker walked right by us without so much as a glance.

"Come on," Dean whispered, and I went first with him following and Sam behind us. We reached the door 237, and I pressed myself against it with one hand on the doorknob. Dean nodded to me and brought out his gun and cocked, which made me raise an eyebrow and glance at an equally surprised Sam. I followed him into the room stealthily, quietly shutting the door before bringing out my gun and cocking it as well, approaching the old woman. Slowly, Dean lowered his head to look at the old woman, and, after a tense moment began to raise his head again. Suddenly, the old woman jerked open, which made me nearly jump out of my boots.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean leapt back and into a wall, pointing the gun shakily at her as she tossed her head, looking around. "Who's there? You trying to steal my stuff?" Sam flicked on the lights as I struggled to get my wildly racing heart under control. "They're always stealing around here," I stowed my gun with trembling fingers, and came around to the side of her.

"No, ma'am. We really are sorry. I'm a nurse; I work here. Just came to check that you were okay," Dean leaned his head back against the wall and ran a hand down his face. "The other two guys here are maintenance. We thought you were asleep,"

"Oh, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open," She started laughing, and I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing too. "And fix that crucifix, would you, hun? I've asked four damn times already," I nodded to Dean, who barely tapped it and it swung into place. I turned and grabbed Sam's arm, guiding him out the door in a hurry to keep me from laughing outright. Once we'd shut the door behind us we broke down laughing. We were still laughing when we got into the car and when we arrived back at the motel.

"'I was sleeping with my peepers open'?" Sam managed to get out, which threw me into another fit of laughter.

"I almost smoked that old gal, I swear," Dean muttered. Today was our fourth day going with three hours of sleep, and Dean was getting irate. "It's not funny,"

"Did you see Dean's face, though. When she…" I didn't even have to finish the thought, for Sam was already laughing too hard to speak.

"Oh, yeah, laugh it on guys. We're back to square one," Dean huffed as Sam unlocked the door to his room. "Hey, wait," Dean started walking off, leaving Sam and I no choice but to follow him. Dean crouched by the devastated looking boy, who was sitting on the bench alone. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"My brother's sick," He confessed, looking at us, and I was shocked to find he was almost crying.

"The little guy?" Dean asked, and the boy nodded.

"Pneumonia," My eyes widened slightly. "He's in the hospital. It's my fault,"

"No, come on. How?" Dean tried to make the kid feel better, and I couldn't help the small rush that went through my body. As much as he might hate to admit it, Dean was great with kids.

"I should have made sure the window was latched," He sniffled as he spoke. "He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched," Dean glanced up at me, and I gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

"Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault, okay?" Dean spoke gruffly to the boy.

"It's my job to look after him," My eyes flickered from Dean to the boy. Before Dean could say anything else the mother came hurrying out of the motel with pillows and a blanket.

"Michael," She called to her son, who stood and went to her obediently. "I want you to turn on the 'no vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother with any of the rooms,"

"I'm going with you," The boy tried to sound firm.

"Not now, Michael," His mother brushed him off.

"But I got to see Asher!" His voice rose as he argued.

"Hey, Michael. Hey, I know how you feel. I'm a big brother too, and I've got a family, but you got to go easy on your mom right now, okay?" Dean spoke to the kid, who seemed to take his advice and back off.

"Damn it!" His mom snapped as she dropped her purse.

"Here, don't worry about it," I picked the purse up and handed it to her.

"Thanks," She gave me a strained smile.

"Hey, listen, you're in no condition to drive," Dean told her from behind me. "Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital?" She was shaking her head before Dean even finished.

"No, no, I couldn't possibly," She stammered.

"No, it's no trouble. I insist," Finally, she nodded and kissed her son's forehead before getting into the passenger's seat. Dean turned to Sam and me, a dark expression on his face.

"We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?" He moved his gaze from Sam to me.

"I can drive, if you want," I told him, and he shook his head.

"I'm fine," I stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Dean, you're exhausted," He just shook his head stubbornly, and I sighed, knowing I couldn't change his mind. "Then I need your gun," I held out my hand, and he finally relented and took it out, placing it in my hand. He turned to go, but I stopped him again. "Be safe," I told him earnestly, and he kissed me briefly.

"You too. I'll see you in a few hours," He replied before heading to the driver's seat.

An hour later, Sam and I were at the public library doing some research on the history of pneumonia outbreaks among children in Wisconsin. Turned out we actually did find something pretty interesting. My phone rang, and I flipped it open quickly as people around me gave me glares.

"Hey," I answered it.

"Hey," Dean whispered on the other line.

"How's Asher?" I vaguely remembered his name.

"He's not good . Where're you at?" Dean questioned, probably wondering why I was speaking in a low voice.

"Library," I answered. "We're trying to dig up as much as we can on the shtriga,"

"What do you have so far?" He asked, and I smiled.

"Well, for the most part bad news. We started with Fort Douglas when we were there, and it was the same thing. Before that it was a place called-" I had to glance down at my notes before finally just going with any pronunciation I could. "Ogdenville, then North Haverbrook, then Brockway. Basically, every 15 to 20 years a new town. And it's only getting started here. In the other places it went on for months and months, meaning dozens of kids. They stay in comas for a few weeks, and then they die,"

"How far back does this thing go?" Dean questioned, his voice hoarse with emotion.

"We don't really know," I covered the phone with my hand and turned to Sam. "What's the earliest we found?"

"Black River Falls," He pulled up the documents.

"Black River Falls," I relayed into the phone. "In the 1890s,"

"Whoa," I glanced at Sam, who was staring at an image.

"No…" I scrutinized the image. "Hold on a moment," It was really him. "There's a picture that Sam and I are looking at from 1893 that shows a bunch of doctors around a kid's bed. One of them is Hydaker,"

"You sure?" Dean muttered darkly, and I suddenly grew worried.

"Dean, listen to me, please don't do anything rash," I pleaded with him, knowing Dean was protective.

"He's killing children, Mel!" Dean snapped, and I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.

"Please, Dean, I know he's a monster, all right? And we're going to get him. He won't be able to hurt anymore people, but you can't let him know we're here. He might run again," There was a beat of silence before Dean spoke again.

"Fine, you're right, but I want to gank the son of a bitch," I smiled slightly in relief as Dean gave in.

"Deal," I snapped the phone shut and placed it back on the table, turning to see Sam studying me with a frown. "What?"

"Nothing," My eyebrows drew together, and I gave him a look that told him he can't lie to me. "It's just… were you always in love with Dean?" My eyes widened and my eyebrows rose at the unexpected question.

"Yeah," I know I probably had that dumbly-in-love smile all over my face, but I couldn't help it. "He was always the one,"

"But you never thought that maybe there was someone else?" Sam wondered, and again, I was thrown by his words. If I didn't know any better, I would've thought he'd met someone, but in our line of work, that was nearly impossible.

"No," I answered honestly. "There was never anyone else," Sam grabbed his bag and stood, slinging it over his shoulders.

"We should probably get back to the motel," He stated brusquely, and I followed him as he practically ran out the door. I pulled away from the library and began the drive back to the motel.

"So, why the sudden interest in my love life?" I questioned, and he shrugged.

"Just curious, I guess," He replied distractedly.

"Does Dean seem… weird to you lately?" I wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject, and decided for the straight approach. Sam glanced at me with a frown and shook his head.

"No, why? Did he say something?" I shook my head and shrugged. Dean's instinct wasn't usually wrong unless he was distracted, and the inverted cross lady had been a major slip up.

"I don't know," I shrugged again. "It's just a feeling," We drove in silence for a few minutes before we reached the motel and parked. Dean was waiting for us in our room, and I sat on a chair while Sam began pacing.

"We should have seen this coming. Doctor's a perfect disguise. You're trusted. You can control the whole thing," Dean stood and ripped off his jacket, throwing it on a chair.

"Huh. That son of a bitch," Dean growled furiously, and I agreed whole heartedly. Anyone cruel and heartless enough to kill a child, let alone almost a hundred of them, was a monster in my book.

"I'm surprised Mel could talk you out of drawing on him right there," Against my will, my eyes were beginning to close, and I struggled to keep them open as the boys talked.

"Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freaking pediatrics ward," I stood, deciding I needed to move to stay awake, and went to the bathroom.

"Which is smart," I commented as I went in and splashed some water on my face before grabbing a towel to dry myself.

"Second, it wouldn't have done any good because the bastard's bulletproof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing," Dean glanced at me as I came out of the bathroom. "Which is a really good thing cause I probably would've just burned a clip in him off of principle alone,"

"You're getting wise in your old age, Dean," Sam smartassed, and my mouth twitched into a grin.

"Actually, I am," I pulled out the gun from the bag I'd shoved it into and placed it on the table. Dean glared at it as if it were the shtriga.

"I know how we're gonna get it," He turned to look at us with a hard set determination in his eyes that I'd learned to be wary of.

"How?" I inquired as he came over to me and Sam.

"The shtriga - it works through siblings, right?" He checked, and Sam and I nodded.

"Well, last night…" Then it hit me what he was trying to say.

"You think that the thing will be going after Michael next," I reasoned logically.

"Then we got to get him out of here," But I knew that wasn't what Dean had in mind.

"No. No, that would blow the whole deal," He disagreed.

"Dean, we can't ask the kid to be bait! That's crazy. He's twelve," Dean raised his eyebrows at me and shrugged.

"That's insane! No, no way. Are you nuts?" Sam took my side on this. "That's out of the question,"

"It's not out of the question, guys. It's the only way - if this thing disappears, it could be years before we get another chance," Dean raised his voice, and I felt myself growing angrier too.

"He's just a kid, Dean! There's no way we are going to use him! There has to be another way," I tried to be logical while I felt my anger rising that he would want to use a not-quite-teenage kid as bait.

"She's right. Michael's a kid, and we're not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook!" Sam snapped at his brother.

"Dad didn't send me here to walk away," Dean barely managed to get his voice under control.

"Send you here?" I repeated incredulously. "Dean, he sent us here. Look, I know you want to catch this thing-"

"No, you don't!" Dean cut me off, turning away from both of us. "I need to catch this thing. I screwed up. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me," My anger melted away, and my eyes softened.

"What are you saying, Dean? How is it your fault?" He didn't reply, and I sighed. "Dean, Mel, you two've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away?" Dean sat heavily on the bed. "Now, talk to me. Tell me what's going on," Dean was still silent, staring straight ahead with that same haunted look in his eyes. I sat next to him, and gently took his hand in mine intertwining our fingers and causing him to look at me.

"He deserves to know, Dean," Finally he nodded, took a deep breath, and began the story.

-3rd Person-

So far it had been three days in the motel room John had left the three kids in, and Sammy was fast asleep in his bed. Mel was curled up on the couch watching TV boredly while Dean bounced his knee beside her. Finally, he just couldn't take it anymore and got up, heading for the door. Mel stood and followed, frowning at him.

"What're you doing? John said to stay here," Half of Dean was tempted to listen to her while the other half needed to get out of that tiny motel room. He gazed at the door, weighing his options. That's when he realized something that tipped him over the edge: if he decided to stay, she would see him as weak and scared. He unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a surprisingly chilly night. "Dean, please,"

"I'll be back in an hour, don't worry," She glanced back at Sammy and then at Dean. "You could come… if you want," He shrugged, trying to ignore how much he wanted her to come, and again she looked back at the sleeping Sam. "He'll be fine," Dean told her, reading her mind. She grabbed her jacket and followed him outside, pulling it around her tightly as the cool breeze drifted past. They walked into the tavern and began playing some video games they had there. Soon, the two were laughing as they played each other at some rocket game. Mel happened to glance at the clock, and almost cried out in shock. It was 1 a.m. The tavern closed at 1:30.

"Dean, we have to go. It's one already," Dean frowned at the clock before going back to his game. Mel huffed in frustration and annoyance, done with trying to get Dean to follow the rules that John had laid out for them. "Fine, stay," She grabbed her jacket from where she'd thrown it over the chair and stomped out of the tavern and up to the motel room, letting herself in with her key. Trying to brush off her frustration at Dean, she went into the bathroom and changed into her pajamas.

It was 1:15 when Dean left the tavern. For some stupid reason he couldn't concentrate on the game and his thoughts kept drifting to Mel's annoyed face as she left. Besides, it was no fun to play alone. That was why he missed her. He needed someone to play against. He made his way up the stairs and opened the door, but froze as he saw the door to the bedroom ajar. Slowly, he pushed open the door to reveal Sammy lying on the bed with what looked like a tree creature above him, the thing's mouth was glowing a faint blue. Dean's eyes moved to Mel's crumpled form that lay unmoving amongst the remnants of a smashed wooden table. Carefully, he reached for the shotgun that was leaning by the door, and he raised the gun to level with whatever it was that had hurt Mel and was on top of Sammy. He took a deep breath and swallowed hard, cocking the gun. Unfortunately, the creature heard the noise, and it's head snapped up and it let out a tremendous growl.

"Get out of the way!" Dean ducked instantly at his father's yell, and John fired a round at the thing, making it flee out the window. John made sure it was gone before rushing to the bed and shaking his son harshly, waking him. "Sammy!"

"Dad, what's going on?" Sammy asked sleepily, looking up at his father. Dean looked around the corner and moved toward Mel, who was still on the floor. That's when John saw her limp form among the broken wood.

"Melody?" He crossed the room in one stride and knelt by her side, taking her in his arms as if she weighed nothing more than paper, and he set her on the bed, propped up against the frame. "Melody!" He snapped, shaking her shoulders as he'd done with Sammy. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked around in dazed confusion before suddenly jerking upright and gasping.

"Sammy! That-that thing - it opened the window," She turned toward his bed. "Is Sammy alright?"

"Sammy's fine," John assured her as Sammy climbed onto the bed with them, not quite sure what was happening, but knowing that Mel and his dad were scared. John wrapped his arms around the eleven-year-old and the seven-year-old and hugged them tightly before he caught sight of Dean again. "What happened?" He demanded.

"I just went out," John's body tensed with carefully controlled anger as he looked at his eldest son.

"What?" Mel pulled away from the hug, not wanting Dean to get into trouble.

"Just for a second. I'm sorry," He rushed his words, hoping that his dad wouldn't stay mad for long.

"I told you not to leave this room," Dean winced at his dad's anger. "I told you not to let them out of your sight,"

"It's not his fault. I was with him," Mel spoke up, not willing to let Dean take all the blame, though she knew he would given the chance.

"But who's idea was it?" John asked, already knowing the answer. Dean looked down at the floor.

-1st Person-

"Dad just grabbed us and booked, dropped us off at pastor Jim's about three hours away. By the time he got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga had disappeared. It was just gone. It never resurfaced until now. Dad never spoke about it again. I didn't ask, but he, uh… he looked at me different, you know, which was worse, not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn't listen, and I almost got both of you killed," His hand tightened around mine as he spoke, and ran my thumb along the back of it comfortingly.

"You were just a kid," Sam began, but it was hopeless. Afterwards, Dean had told me about how it was his fault, and about John looking at him differently, and I'd tried to convince him it wasn't his fault. That he couldn't have known.

"Don't," Dean shook his head. "Don't," He repeated quietly. "Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it,"

"I don't know. Using Michael… it's risky, Dean," I pointed out softly, resting my head against his shoulder, making Dean tilt his head so it rested on mine.

"She's right, man. I mean, how about one of us hides under the cover? You know, we'll be the bait," Dean shook his heads at Sam's words.

"No, that won't work. It's got to be close enough to feed. It'll see us. Believe me, I don't like it, but it's got to be the kid," He looked at me, and I saw that same look in his eyes from earlier. He stood up, taking his hand from mine and went to the look out the window. After a couple minutes, we decided to go ask Asher to help us.

"You're crazy! Just go away or I'm calling the cops," Needless to say, the kid didn't believe us, and he was holding the phone threateningly, trying to get it as far away from us as possible so we couldn't take it away from him.

"Hang on a second. Just listen to me. You have to believe me, okay? This thing came through the window and attacked your brother. Now, I've seen it. I know what it looks like cause it attacked my brother once, too," Slowly, he put the phone back on the receiver.

"This thing… is it, like… it has this long, black robe?" He asked, his face scrunching in disgust.

"You saw it last night, didn't you?" Dean realized.

"I thought I was having a nightmare," The kid confessed, and my heart went out to him.

"I'd give anything not to tell you this, but sometimes nightmares are real," The boy's eyes narrowed at Dean.

"So why are you telling me?" He was a bright kid; I'll give him that.

"Because we need your help," Dean told him.

"M-my help?" The kid stammered, beginning to get an inkling of what we were getting at.

"We can kill it, me, her, and him. It's what we do, but we can't do it without you," Dean tried to get him to see how important it was that he help us.

"What? No," He shook his head, taking a step away from us.

"Michael, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher, and it's gonna keep hurting kids unless we stop it. Do you understand me?" Apparently not, for the kid turned tail and ran, slamming the door behind him. "Damn it," Dean stalked out the door, slamming it behind him. Sam and I went back to our room, knowing that's where Dean would be. "Well, that went crappy. Now what?"

"What'd you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid," Sam pointed out.

"Give him time. He might surprise you," I advised them, and Dean opened his mouth to reply when there was a knock at the door. Dean opened it to reveal Michael standing there.

"If you kill it, will Asher get better?" He asked one simple question, and Dean glanced back at us, causing me to nod.

"Honestly, we don't know," Dean admitted before adding, "You said your a big brother and that you have a family too,"

"Yeah," Dean agreed, nodding.

"You'd take care of your family? You'd do anything for them?" Dean's eyes flicked to us before landing on Michael again.

"Yeah, I would," Dean confirmed without a shadow of a doubt in his voice.

"So would I. I'll help," Michael announced.


"This camera has night vision on it, so we'll be able to see you clear as day," Dean explained to the kid as I clicked the button for the night vision and got it set up.

"We good?" I called to Sammy.

"Bit to the right," He replied, and I shifted it until Sammy told me to stop.

"What do I do?" Michael questioned.

"Just stay under the covers," Dean told him, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"And if it shows up?" Michael asked, even though I think he already knew the answer. He just wanted reassurance.

"We're just in the next room. Shout if something's happening," I gave him a smile, which he managed to return slightly.

"Remember, we're gonna come in with guns, so as soon as we do, you roll off this bed and you crawl under it," Dean reminded him about the most important part of the plan.

"What if you shoot me?" He inquired, looking nervous, and I laughed lightly.

"We don't miss," I informed him, winking and causing him to grin a little before I moved my attention to Dean. "I'll be with Sammy in the next room," Dean nodded, and I sat down next to Sam in the other room.

"We won't fire until you're clear, okay?" The kid nodded, looking determined. "Have you heard a gunshot before?"

"Like in the movies?" He questioned, and Dean's mouth quirked up.

"It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies, so I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, and do not come out until we say so, you understand?" The boy nodded. "Michael, are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to. It's okay. I won't be mad," Half of me hoped the kid would say he had changed his mind.

"No, I'm okay. Just don't shoot me," He gave Dean a small, brave smile.

"We're not going to let anything happen to you. I promise," Dean stood from the bed and went to sit by Sam and I. I leaned Dean's shoulder as we waited for something to happen. We'd started at ten, and it was now twelve. Both Dean and Sam were asleep in their chairs, having not been able to stay awake through it. We'd decided to take turns. Mine started in a couple of minutes, which I was thankful for. The boys and I deserved some semblance of sleep. When this hunt was over with, I was going to sleep for a day. A full day. 24 hours. I smiled at the thought. Suddenly, Dean stiffened beside me, and I turned my head to look at him.

"No," He moaned lowly as his breathing sped up. "No, no, no," He shook his head back and forth, and his body was almost trembling. "Please, no,"

"Dean?" I grabbed his collar and shook him, but he just groaned again as if in pain. "Dean!" I snapped, and his head jerked up so fast it almost bashed into mine. His eyes looked around wildly for a moment before finding mine, and my hands moved from his collar to either side of his face. "Hey, it's me," He grabbed my face and kissed me harshly before pulling away and pressing his forehead against mine.

"You're alive," He whispered, and the overwhelming relief in his voice was almost painful. "You're okay," His shaky breathing was slowing as he got control over himself, but I could still hear his pounding heart. Whatever he'd been dreaming about had scared him badly. "You can't leave me, okay? Don't leave me,"

"Dean, I'm right here," I pressed my lips against his softly, reassuring him that I wasn't going anywhere. "What was the nightmare about?" And then it clicked. The past week how Dean had been acting strange. The waking up early. The constant hunting. The lack of sleep. "Dean how long have you been getting the nightmares?"

"About a week now," He confirmed my fear. "They're about you," I looked up at him, but he was looking away from me. "When you were at that lake - Manitoc. I got onto the dock with Sammy, and that girl said you never came up," He shook his head, still remembering what had happened that day. "I dove in after you, got you free and then Sam pulled you back on the dock. Then, Sammy said you weren't breathing… I've never felt fear like that," He shook his head, his eyes haunted with the ghost of the memory. "I did CPR. Remember that dumb class you made me take?" He gave a small, choked laugh. "Well, you were right. I did need it. I don't know how many times I did it, but Sammy was pushing me off, and he was a mess. All I could think was that you couldn't die. That I would give anything for you to open your eyes. I was so scared," I felt wetness slide down my cheek leaving a hot trail behind. "If I was a second later, you could've died. You can't die, Melody. You can't leave me," He turned his eyes to face me, and I was stunned to see a single tear travel down his cheek.

"I love you," I kissed him passionately. "I would never leave," He responded to the kiss, slipping one arm under my knees and the other behind my back and lifted me onto his lap, making me laugh slightly.

"Guys," Sam's groggy voice made us pause and look at him. He looked embarrassed at interrupting us. "If you want to sleep, I can take watch now," I nodded and went back to my chair, closing my eyes. Sleep took over.

"Hey, look," I blinked awake to find my head resting on Dean's shoulder while his arm was wrapped around my waist. Dean pointed to the hand that had just opened the window, and I was awake in seconds. Slowly, I grabbed my gun off the table and cocked it, holding it pointed at the ground as I rose from my sitting position.

"Now?" Sam questioned, our eyes trained on the video.

"Not yet," Dean told him as the thing got closer to Michael. It bent over him, and it's mouth began glowing a faint blue."Now," We busted into the room, our guns aimed at the thing that was over his bedside. "Michael, down!" Michael rolled onto the floor and then crawled under the bed. We kept shooting it until it hit the ground with a groan. "Mike, are you all right?"

"Yeah," He answered shakily.

"Just sit tight," Dean ordered Mike as I approached the moaning shtriga with Dean right beside me. I glanced at Sam and sent him a small shrug before turning back only to see the shtriga's face inches from mine. It grabbed Dean by the throat and hurled him into a poster that hung on the wall.

"Dean!" I barely had time to yell the word before it was on me, and it threw me into a table, making my world go fuzzy.

The shtriga grabbed Sam's collar and sent him flying into a bookshelf before grabbing his throat and pinning him to the floor. I dazedly saw that Sam's mouth was open and some white stuff was going out of it and into the shtriga's mouth. I tried to blink the dizziness away and desperately search for a gun.

"Hey!" I looked up in immense relief as I saw Dean with his gun raised. He shot the shtriga right between the eyes, and I collapsed back onto the broken wood of the table. "You okay, little brother?" Sam flashed a thumbs up as Dean helped me stand. The dizziness was fading now as was the headache. No serious damage."You alright?" I nodded, laughing slightly. We stood staring at the dying creature, and Dean shot it a couple more times for good measure, making white glowing things come out of it's mouth. "It's okay, Michael. You can come on out," He walked over, and looked up at us like we were heroes.


I threw my bag into the car beside Dean's before glancing up to see the woman approaching us. When the creature had died, I'd assumed that all the kids would wake up. Well, I'd hoped.

"Hey, Johanna, how's Asher doing?" Dean asked as she came up to us. I knew the answer before she said anything; she looked a lot better than she did when she left. She was no longer frazzled and tired.

"Have you seen Michael?" She asked hurriedly, ignoring Dean's question.

"Mom! Mom!" She turned to see her eldest son run up to her.

"Hey!" She smiled widely as she hugged him tight.

"How's Ash?" I held my breath as he looked up at her, pleading her to tell him that his brother was alright.

"I've got some good news. You're brother's gonna be fine," I released my breath and relaxed. Thank god. We'd saved all those kids from the hospital.

"Really?" He asked with a grin as if he couldn't even believe it.

"Yeah, really. No one can explain it. It's, uh, it's a miracle," She nodded, and I glanced at Dean with a small smile. "They're gonna keep him in overnight for observation, but after that he's coming home,"

"That's wonderful," I told her with a smile, which she returned. "What about the other kids?" I questioned, wanting to make sure that we'd really done it.

"Good, real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Doctor Travis says the ward's gonna be like a ghost town," My smile widened both at her excitement and Doctor Travis.

"Doctor Travis? What about Doctor Hydaker?" She just shrugged as if it didn't matter all that much.

"Oh, he wasn't in today. He must have been sick or something," I glanced at the kid and grinned again.

"Yeah, yeah, must have," The woman nodded at Dean's words before turning back to her boy.

"So did anything happen while I was gone?" The boy's eyes flicked to Dean and then me, and I winked at him with a grin.

"No, same old stuff," He nodded and shrugged.

"Okay. You can go see Ash," She told him, and his eyes widened in excitement.

"Now?" He asked eagerly.

"Only if you want to," He looked at us with one more grin before running to his mom's car, and Johanna turned back to us. "I better get going before he hot-wires the car and drives himself," She headed to her car and we turned back to ours.

"It's too bad," Sam muttered as I went around to the passenger's seat.

"No, they'll be fine," Dean assured his brother.

"That's not what he meant," I opened the door but chose to lean on the doorframe instead of getting in. Dean glanced at me and then Sam in confusion. "He meant Michael," Sam nodded at my statement.

"He'll always know there are things out there in the dark. He'll never be the same, you know?" He explained, shaking his head slightly. "Sometimes I wish that…" He looked away and gave a small, humorless laugh.

"What?" Dean prompted, and I put a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, making him look at me gratefully.

"I wish that I could have that kind of innocence," He admitted finally. Dean glanced back at Johanna's disappearing car before looking back at us.

"If it means anything, sometimes I wish you both could," Dean told us sadly before he got into the car, and I slid into the passenger's seat. We drove out of Fitchburg, Wisconsin and never looked back.