Three

Dean let out a deep sigh as he followed Sam down the sidewalk towards the woods the next morning. Bobby had decided to stay behind and do more research since this one was truly stumping them all. Dean looked around at every door on the block, every single one had a wreath and almost everyone had a ribbon of some color too. Dean felt a lump form in his throat and he tried to swallow it down, but he found he couldn't. He couldn't even imagine not only losing someone he loved, but an entire community all experiencing the same pain at the same time. Dean felt this tiny ball of rage inside him. They had to find who or what was doing this and fast before Dean started knocking off heads.

When they approached the crime scene they saw numerous local cops along with one forensic van. All of the cops except for Mike were scouring the area. Mike was interviewing a woman, a woman Dean had met before. It was Miranda. Dean's eyes went wide as he tore over towards her and Mike. Mike turned his head and stopped writing on his legal pad.

"Ah Agent Paul," Mike said. "I was just talking to Miranda Howe here."

"We've met." Dean nodded; Miranda's face was streaked with tears.

"There's been another disappearance," Mike sighed; sadness was in his voice. "I'll let her brief you."

Mike walked away to speak with Sam and a few other cops. Dean turned his gaze back to Miranda and offered her a smile as best as he could muster. He knew that was the last thing she needed right now, but there was nothing else he could give.

"Your daughter..." Dean said without finishing.

"She's gone," Miranda replied quietly. "God I knew this could happen, but I-I didn't think it could happen to me."

"Do you have any idea where she could have gone?" Dean tried to get her to remain calm.

"I told you," she protested. "No. There's no way to tell. The only thing they found is her stuffed dog."

Dean turned his attention to the woman's hands. In them she held an old and worn toy. It was a dog with floppy ears and patchwork quilt fabric all over it. It was bit moist on its underside because it had been lying in the grass for hours into the early morning when the morning dew took over. It smelled like laundry detergent showing that it had been recently cleaned and was well taken care of. That was what puzzled Dean most of all. Why would a precious toy be left at such a location? Unless it was to give the police a clue as to where Miranda's daughter had been taken, in that case Dean had been right when he'd stated that she was smart child.

"Did the toy look thrown," Dean inquired. The wheels in his mind were starting to turn. "Or did it look staged? Or placed for that matter?"

"How am I supposed to know," Miranda gave Dean a strange look. "I got here only after someone found the toy and I found my daughter was missing from her bed."

"How'd they know it was her?" Dean replied.

"She carries this damn thing everywhere," Miranda held the stuffed puppy up by the neck. Dean could sympathize with it being choked even though it was simply a toy. "She takes it in public, to school sometimes if I don't take it back up to her room. I told her that the kids at school will make fun of her for it, but she doesn't seem to care."

"I see," Dean sighed, that ruled out the dog being left as a tip. "Well thank you Miranda. I appreciate your intel."

"It wasn't much," She sighed too, but more fresh warm tears fell from her eyes and down her cheeks as she stared at the dog. "Just...I want her home. She can't disappear. Not forever. Not like the rest of the kids."

"Hey," Dean placed his hand over hers, the one that held the dog. She looked up at him through bleary eyes. "I swear to you. I will get your daughter back to you. I promise on my life."

"You can't promise that," Miranda shook her head in disbelief. "All of the others that have, they couldn't get it done."

"Well I'm different," Dean gave her a determined look. "My partners and I, we're not like the rest of em. We'll finish the job the others could only start."

Dean stared into her eyes and she could tell he meant what he'd said. Miranda Howe wasn't usually one to trust anyone on the police force in her town. Besides Mike, he was her oldest friend and they'd grown up together here and both raised families. She knew he, more than anyone, just wanted the children to come home. She looked over at him and he gave her a comforting smile and she forcibly returned one. She turned her attention back to Dean.

"Thank you." It was all she could muster.

"You're welcome," Dean said. "Just go home and get some rest as hard as it may seem. I promise you it'll help."

She nodded and slinked away down the sidewalk towards her house looking as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Dean felt for her, though he had no children of his own, he knew how he'd felt when he'd lost Sam even for a few days was basically the equivalent of this. The worst part in his opinion was that this had been going on for so long, too long. Dean felt a new responsibility thrust upon him when he'd promised Miranda he'd bring her daughter back. It wasn't just her daughter he had to bring back it was everyone's daughter and everyone's son who were lost, the children of all who had lost.

Dean strode over to Sam and greeted him with a silent stare. Sam knew what it meant though. Sam waited for the searching cops to disperse before he spoke.

"No trace of the girl," Sam informed his brother, keeping his voice low. "It's like she disappeared into thin air, but of course we know that's not the case. There's something weird going on in these woods. Did you know this is where Christopher Rolland disappeared, in these woods, and he was never seen again?"

"No kidding," Dean replied, keeping a close eye out for lingering ears. "You think it has anything to do with the woods itself or something living in them?"

"My guess is both," Sam said. "We should go back to the motel room and see if Bobby's dug up anything."

"Agreed," Dean nodded. "We should get some lunch too. I could go for a burger."

"You could always go for a burger." Sam rolled his eyes and a small smile formed in the corner of his mouth.

"Hey," Dean protested. "I came back from Hell. I deserve one."

Sam's shoulders tensed up a little at Dean's mention of his time in Hell. Sam had yet to ask his brother what the nightly nightmares and the excessive drinking entailed. He was sure the memories were killing Dean, but he couldn't bring himself to ask his brother what he'd seen. So instead the younger Winchester just kept silent about it.

"Hey," Sam pointed at Mike as he talked with another cop. "Mike's got one of those ribbons on his jacket. I guess he supports those who've lost."

Dean remembered what Miranda had said regarding the ribbons, that if someone had one, they'd lost a child and if it was white the child had yet to come back. Mike's was white. Dean swallowed a lump that was forming in his throat. He understood now why Mike had been so insistent back at the police headquarters. He'd lost someone to this supernatural force too and was probably just as eager to get them back. Dean assumed it was the little boy in the photos that littered the man's office. He also hadn't been wearing his coat when they'd first met him. So they hadn't seen the ribbon until now.

Mike gave Dean a look, he was clearly wondering why he was staring at him. Dean shook off his thoughts and looked away and so did Mike.

"We should get back to Bobby Dean," Sam urged as he started walking towards the sidewalk. "Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean wanted so badly to talk to Mike about who he'd lost, but he knew better than to get too attached to anyone in a case. It always led to danger for them. "I'm coming Sammy."

Dean followed his brother back to the motel. He hoped Bobby had something constructive for them because now they were running out of time for Dean to make good on his promise to Miranda.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Whatcha got for us Bobby?" Sam asked as Dean closed the door behind them and they started shedding their FBI suits.

"You boys are in for a hell of a hard one this time," Bobby's eyes widened and he gave them a look. "The Basket Woman."

"Scuse me," Dean returned the look. "Sounds like some housewife that went 'bit nuts at Hobby Lobby?"

"Apparently this one has gotten smarter in her years," Bobby pushed the book in Sam's direction so he could read the entry. "She still lets the children go on accident."

"This explains why only some of the kids come back," Sam nodded like he'd had a sudden epiphany. "The Basket Woman is a Native American legend. It tells of an ogress who captures children and carries them to another location in her pack basket to eat them."

"Great," Dean's stomach clenched. There was no way he could back down on his promise to Miranda now. Not when her daughter's life was in grave danger. "What else does it say? How do we kill this bitch?"

"Luckily," Sam said. "She's kind of dim in her wits. So some of the children manage to escape."

"Meets the MO perfectly," Bobby sighed. "Unfortunately that's most likely why some of them don't come back."

Silence passed for a few moments.

"How do we kill her?" Dean said, a new sense of determination filling the hunter.

"Special knife," Sam ran his finger over the line in the book. "Blessed by a Native American."

"Ok Sammy," Dean threw his arms up into the air. "Let me just go find the nearest non-existent reservation."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch," Bobby interrupted before Sam could shoot back. "I know somebody nearby, in the next town actually, that'll have what we need."

"I've got a better question," Sam had a serious look on his face as we looked between the two hunters on either side of him. "How do we get near her to kill her? She only goes after children."

The trio spent a few moments contemplating their options. None of them wanted to volunteer a child for the job, that was sadistic thinking and they all quickly dismissed the idea as soon as it had formed. Finally Bobby was the first to speak.

"I know a spell," Bobby cleared his throat. "It makes an adult human soul appear to others as a child's. It's an old ritual someone taught me. It's not an amazing plan, but it will most likely work."

"Bobby," Dean gave him a small smile. "You're a genius."

Bobby shrugged.

"Problem is," Bobby looked at both brothers. "One of us will have to be the one to take on the effects of the ritual."

"Me." Dean said firmly. "There's no doubt in my mind it has to be me."

Sam gave his brother a look; he didn't understand why Dean was so gung ho in this case. Much less in general. It was as though Dean had no regard for his life anymore once again even though Castiel had saved it from the deepest depths of Hell. Sam figured Dean was in a whole new level of martyrdom since the world was inherently ending very soon according to the angels, but he had to admit sometimes lately Dean had been going to extremes.

"Ok then," Bobby was skeptical, but nodded. Sam could tell the older hunter was thinking the same thing he was. "We'll take my car. It's not too far, not but a mile up the road. The guy owns a store nearby and I'm sure he'll have everything we need."

Bobby got up from the dining table in the motel room and grabbed a jacket. Dean and Sam followed suit before the trio locked the motel door and made their way towards Bobby's car.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

A bell jingled when the hunter trio strode through the doors of the curio shop Bobby had pulled up to. The shop smelled like old carpeting and cigars. It was a scent that both Sam and Dean were not used to and they scrunched up their noses a bit, but Bobby walked like it didn't affect him. The shelves were stacked high with a menagerie of spices and concoctions that could make any witch green with envy.

"Hair of the wolf," Dean chuckled as he inspected one of the glass jars. "Hey Sammy get a load of this."

"Cures werewolves," a softer voice was heard and Dean jumped at the sight of a slightly shorter Native American man with black hair in a ponytail and soft brown eyes. Sam laughed at his brother. "Do not touch."

"Gotcha," Dean grabbed at his heart. The man walked over to Bobby. "Geez somebody get that guy a bell or something."

"I understand," the man talked mostly to Bobby, but Sam and Dean listened intently. "That you are dealing with The Basket Woman. She hasn't been brought up to me for years. My people used to speak of her when I was small. They warned me of her, saying she'd snatch me up and take me away forever."

"Well that's what we're hoping to prevent," Bobby nodded. "She's set up camp in a nearby town and she's taking kids. We've gotta get rid of her before she eats all of them."

"I've got the knife ready since you called ahead," he nodded and started to reach into a few glass jars, placing ingredients in a bowl and grabbing a tool to mash it up with. "I just need to mix the herbs for the ritual you spoke of. I must warn you though Bobby Singer. This will prove to be a difficult monster. Based on what you described she may have grown stronger and smarter."

"We'll see." Bobby replied as the man pounded the herbs into the bottom of the bowl until they became pungent and their scent filled the entire store. Dean almost choked it was so strong. The owner of the shop, once done grinding the herbs, placed them in a vial with this special kind of water and handed it to Bobby. The eldest hunter pocketed it and thanked the man.

"Who is planning to drink it?" he asked and Dean raised a finger to signal it was him. He smiled a little.

"Gods bless your soul," the man sighed and looked at Dean with a look of disdain. "May the Gods also bless your journey back to Newsburg."

"Thank you." Bobby nodded and Sam started followed him to the front door. Dean did too, but looked back at the store owner one last time. He was staring at Dean like the way a hawk looked at its prey. Dean swallowed hard, wondering what he had just signed up for as he too exited the building and climbed into the backseat of Bobby's car.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"So I just drink this," Dean held the vial in his hand. The sun had begun to set. "And that Basket Crazy will come for me?"

"Yeah," Bobby and Sam sat at the dining table and were watching the older Winchester as he stared at the green watery concoction in the tiny vial with a look of slight disgust. "Look Dean you volunteered. Nasty ritual or not."

"Don't remind me," Dean cringed as he swallowed the whole vial in one gulp. The spices burned his nose and he coughed like he had just swallowed the strongest whiskey and vodka combined. Not a good one either. "I guess now we just wait. The MO seems to be that she comes when her dinner is sleeping so if I'm gone in the morning, don't miss me too much."

"Very funny Dean," Sam rolled his eyes. "Just try and get some sleep before you have to go kill this big bad."

"Yeah," Dean waved him off and stripped off his shirt before flopping onto his bed. "Whatever bitch."

"I'm going back to my room," Bobby got up and walked over to the door. "See you two idjits, well one of you, in the morning."

Bobby left and both brothers got into comfortable clothing before settling in to their beds. Sleep came to Sam easily, but Dean couldn't find it for quite a few hours. He couldn't help, but wonder what he'd encounter when the ogre came for him, but he knew that it was up to him to get those children back even if the first step was falling asleep.

So he did.

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