A/N: I'm sooooooooo sorry guys. I know you've all been waiting forever for this chapter and the truth is I had it finished nearly a month ago but I took my computer to get fixed since the mouse and keyboard was going wack and I just got it back today. And the first thing I did was post so yeah I'm really really sorry but this one is extra long if that makes up for it. (even though it probably doesn't)

He was working as a supervisor for a kindergarden. There was something there that he had to get rid of. He was betting on a poltergeist but he had been wrong before, of course. He had left Dean and Sam with Missouri back home. He was only an hour or so drive away and he knew he could trust Missouri with anything.

He resented this new job of his but he had to do what he had to do. All the brats ever did was whine and scream and kick and pull each other's hair. She was different though. She was always alone, bugging the teachers, getting a few laughs now and then. The reason she didn't play with anyone, he learned, was that all she ever wanted to do was play sports or something boyish like that but the boys wouldn't let her play with them and she didn't want to play with the girls who only ever played hopscotch and jump ropes. She was an outcast.

Like him.

In the teachers' lounge he didn't sit with anyone in particular and his different perspective on the world made it difficult for him to join in on a conversation without letting his temper get the best of him. A few of the female teachers would smile at him but he took no notice. He was still grieving for his dead wife.

One day, during recess, when everyone was outside playing, he heard the door open and she walked in, looking as adorable as ever. Her red hair was tied up and she wore torn jeans and a t-shirt that was much too big for her. Her plump cheeks were a rosy color and her lips were stained blue from a lollipop he saw her sucking on in class. He was sitting on one of the tables, eating a sandwich.

She sat down in front of him, regarding him with her eyes. He ignored her, taking another bite of his sandwich. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms, watching him, an eyebrow raised. He looked at her from on top of her sandwich.

"What?" she shrugged.

"Nuthin" she had a gruff voice, local accent. He narrowed his eyes and went back to his sandwich, she went on staring.

He tried to ignore her, push her out of his mind, try and think about the poltergeist or whatever it was and how he was going to stop it but she kept drifting back into his mind, sitting there in front of him, staring at her. He sighed, giving up, and slamming his fist down onto the table.

"What do you want?"

"I told you, nothing. Everyone's being a bunch of bitches and bastards. You got any beer on you by any chance? The stupid law in this country says I can't have any but I take a sip or two from my dad. My mom hates it though. I actually think-" John held up his hand, silencing her.

His mouth opened and closed and occasionally the beginning of a word would be uttered from him. He didn't know what to make of this girl. He decided to keep her around, he didn't know why he had decided that, but he did.

"You talk fast" was what he settled on.

"I know. It's not like I do it on purpose or anything. Micah, my brother, calls me a roadrunner. I don't really get it but he told me this joke the other day about France and kissing and I didn't get that either so I figure it's a grown up thing. He's fourteen. To me that's a grown up but to my mom and dad that's very young. He's probably young to you too. Anyway, my mom says Micah is sick so maybe it's a sick thing. Wanna hear the joke?" she smiled widely and her eyes lit up.

"Uh…no" she furrowed her brow and tilted her head.

"You don't talk much do you? I suppose it comes with the job. At least you aren't like our last supervisor. He was a real dick. I would be in the principal's office by now and then everything Ms. Miller talked to me about last Wednesday would have gone down the tube. She uses that expression a lot. I don't like people who repeat stuff do you?"

"No" there was a long moment of silence which he broke.

"Why don't you go play with your friends?" he already knew the answer to that but maybe if she sensed she was unwanted then she would go away.


"I don't have any. Besides, I told you before, they're all being a bunch of bitches and bastards." She stated it simply and matter-of-factly, leaning back in her chair.

"Why is that?"

"Why is what?"

"Why don't you have any friends?"

"Don't you know? I thought all the teachers knew" for some reason John was starting to feel sorry for her and he also realized that he wanted to keep talking to her. It was a new thing for John, he didn't really like any other children but his own.

"I don't know" he did, of course, but he just wanted to see if it was true.

"I've got three older brothers and my mom's is pregnant with twins, Boys also. So obviously I don't like playing hopscotch and stuff which is, like, the only thing girls here play. And they guys won't let me play with them cause they think I have cooties. Have you ever heard of anything stupider?"

"Can't say I have"

"Exactly. Oh and I spilt paint on Jean Emers dress last year and she's hated me ever since so the girls don't want to play with me either. I don't care though, someday someone awesome is gonna move in and I'll have someone to play with"

When John didn't answer her rambling resumed.

"Where are you from? I was born here and I've never lived anywhere else. Unless visiting my Aunt in Georgia for a couple of months counts. Cause then I've lived in two places"

"I'm from Lawrence"

"Cool. That's like…an hour away right? Do you still live there? Are you like…a commutiter thingy or whatever it's called"

"It's called a commuter and no I'm staying here for a while"

"Got any kids? A wife? Anything?"

"I've got two boys"

"Oh so you're married?" John considered telling her the truth and lying to her. In reality he didn't think he could lie to her, she looked so indescribably innocent, but he didn't think he would be able to tell her the truth so blandly. He settled on the simpler version of the truth, the one he told Jim and the police and pretty much everyone else back home.

"My wife died two years ago. In a fire" his eyes dropped to the table. He couldn't help but remember that night. He tried not to most of the time, he didn't think he would ever get over it. He felt something small and warm squeeze his hand and he raised his eyes to find her smiling up at him, her eyes warm and kind.

"It'll be okay" she squeezed his hand once more before leaning back in her chair, still smiling.

He never regretted telling her.

John woke with a start, sweat gleaming on his forehead, the hair on the back of his neck damp with sweat. There was someone else in the room, he could feel it. He reached for his nightstand but a force held him back, before he knew it he was slammed into the wall.

He lifted his head, raising his arm to protect his face from the debris that tumbled down from the wall and onto the floor in front of him.

"What do you want?" John asked breathlessly.

"Please help me. I mean you no harm"

A woman suddenly stood before him. She was beautiful, dirty blonde hair and a heart shaped face. She had pale blue eyes and her lips were full and pink. She was unnaturally pale and she was there but at the same time she wasn't. She was only a ghost, a spirit of one of the many people that had died in this house. She had a pleasant voice, musical and smooth.

"How?" He stood up brushing himself off.

She was suddenly half a foot away from him, looking up at him with wide pleading eyes. They looked familiar.

John ran out of the burning building, children were being reunited with their families, but there was one couple left. The woman was beautiful, heart shaped face, dirty blonde hair. The man was large and tough looking, red hair and freckles. He immediately knew whose parents they were. The woman walked up to him, her pale blue eyes wide and scared. Pleading him.

"Where's our daughter?" John didn't know what to say. How could he tell her that she was inside? That he couldn't save her?

Just then he realized that he was completely capable of saving her. He would run in there and come back out. He looked into the pleading blue eyes.

"I'll go get her"

"Please, I need you to help my daughter."

"Who's your daughter?"

"Irene" She rolled her tongue on the R which confirmed his suspicions.

This was George's mother.

"She doesn't know" Her eyes were tearful.

"Know what? What do I have to tell her?"

"I can't tell you. You wouldn't believe me."

"I've seen some pretty strange things"

"I know that, but you still won't believe me"

"I'm talking to a ghost. Can anything be any more unbelievable than that?"

"Thank you for stating the obvious!" She snapped.

"If I thought you would've believed me than I would have told you by now!" John flinched, her anger tore through him like white hot pokers.

"Well, okay. What do you want me to do exactly? Seeing as you won't tell me"

"Talk to Castiel. Tell him what I'm telling you know. That she needs to know"

"Why can't you tell him yourself? Or her?" She looked around the room, her eyes full of wonder.

"I'm confined to this house."

"Then I'll bring them here"

"It doesn't work like that. Sh-she won't let me talk to them. So I came to you"

"She who?"

"You ask a lot of questions"

"And you don't answer them" he snapped and she sighed.

"Look I'm sorry but I can't tell you anything except that she's a demon. A very powerful one. Even by your standards"

"My standards?"

"You're considered somewhat of an elite hunter, John Winchester"

"Thank you?" she smiled slightly.

"Tell Irene you saw me"

"How do you know she'll believe me?"

"That girl you were dreaming about. Do you remember? She saw the demon and you saved her. She still remembers. I'm sure she'll believe you"

"Okay I'll tell her now. Hold on" she quickly stood between him and the wall, her eyes pleading again, and she held his wrist. Her skin was cold as ice, he shivered.

"No. Not yet" John's shoulders slumped.

"When then?" he snapped. He was getting frustrated.

She could sense this and pulled herself up to her full height, glaring at him menacingly.

"You're supposed to help people"

"I hunt things. If people are helped in the process it isn't my intention" her eyes narrowed and he took an involuntary step back.

"You'll know when to tell her when the time comes. And John?"

"Yeah?"

"I can see right through you" and she was gone. He ran a hand over his face and climbed back into his bed, he couldn't get to sleep though. Instead he lay there, dwelling over his most recent supernatural encounter. His mind drifted to that time when he saved her, it wasn't a poltergeist like he initially thought.

It was something a whole lot worse.

The building was crashing down on top of them and there were flames everywhere. It stood there, glaring down at her menacingly. She looked back at it with wide eyes, her stance appeared protective and her eyes narrowed, but she was trembling slightly and he knew it had nothing to do with the cold. Her hair blended with the blazing fire around her and the demon cackled, his eyes turning black.

John thought about what to do. Die, or save this girl? He chose the latter. He used his arm to shield his eyes and dove in. He scooped her up in his arms and she buried her face in his chest. He ran out of the building, and he could hear the demon cackling maniacally behind him.

"No one gets away from Alistar that easy" it said in a playful tone, almost like it was singing.

John got the strange feeling that he was the only one who had heard.

"Thank you. Thank you so so so much." The woman said throwing her arms around him as her husband took George and cradled her close to him.

"Thank you" he said gruffly.

George wrapped her arms around her father's neck and pushed herself up to look at John. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and the blazing building was reflected in her eyes.

"Alistar?" he heard her say.

By the time John got downstairs he felt like his head was going to burst.

"Morning dad" Sam greeted him.

"Morning. Where's your brother?" he had checked in his son's room and didn't find him there. He didn't worry though, Dean could handle himself.

"Went to get breakfast" John sighed.

"Good. I'm starved"

**

"No dude I'm telling you, Elvis is dead"

"Nah that's only what he wants us to think. He's been reincarnated" George sighed and dropped her forehead into her palm.

"OK fine. Let's say he has been reincarnated. Don't you think the reincarnation or whatever would have come forward by now?" They had been discussing this for the past half hour. Dean insisted that Elvis was reincarnated. She, on the other hand, was being more sensible.

"Maybe he doesn't know he's a reincarnation yet and just thinks that he's crazy and is in some nut house"

"Dean, for the love of god, believe me when I tell you there's no such thing as reincarnations"

"No. You believe me when I say there are" She narrowed her eyes at him and he narrowed his eyes back at her.

They remained that way until someone walked in and she had to go get their order and he realized that his dad and his brother were at home, most likely starving to death.

**

"Jesus, finally! What'd you do? Shag her five time straight?"

"Dad, please. Does George seem like the person who would let herself get laid in a diner?"

"Point taken"

"We were actually discussing whether or not Elvis is reincarnated." John choked on the sandwich he had bitten into and Sam sighed.

"Not that again Dean"

"Which side of the argument were you on?" John cocked his eyebrow, his voice still a bit hoarse.

"Which one do you think?"

"Dean"

"Dad, with what we see every day this is like, believing in trees. I mean, it could be possible"

"Whatever Dean"

"I'm serious!"

"Okay!" they ate the rest of their meal in peace. Dean still trying to continue his conversation but John would cut him off every time.

"What do you know about her mom?" John asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Dean shrugged.

"Not much. She doesn't talk about her. Don't blame her"

"Do you know where she was murdered?"

"I told you, she doesn't talk about it."

"You expect me to believe that she hasn't said a single word about her?"

"No. I'm telling you. Don't expect you to believe me though"

John regarded his son with curious eyes.

"What?"

"Nuthin"

**

"Then she told me that I had to tell George something, something she didn't know. That I had to save her" John was sitting in Castiel Reynolds' living room, relaying what he heard.

So far he had been silent just looking at him with cold empty eyes that showed no signs of disbelief but no signs that he believed him either.

"And then?"

"Then she said that I had to wait for the right moment. That I couldn't just go tell her now"

"That's very interesting"

"Do you know what she was talking about?" John felt somewhat foolish. He was talking to a man who may not even be believe him, who may just be stringing him on because he was curious and then he would go and call the police or something.

"No" it was stated blandly and without any emotion, John couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

He wondered if Castiel might have possibly recognized him from eight years ago. It was a long shot but he had saved his only daughter.

John stood up, this was pointless, the man didn't believe him and he never would. It was stupid of him to come here.

"I should get going, I have some stuff to take care of" Castiel stood up also.

"Are you sure? You don't want any coffee or anything?" John shook his head.

"No I really should get going" Castiel nodded.

"If you're sure"

"I am"

The two men walked to the door and Castiel held it open for John.

"Alistar" John heard Castiel mutter to himself as he shut the door.

There was something in the man's voice that made John need to find out who this Alistar was.

**

George knocked on the door. Sam opened it, smiling up at her.

"Hi George" she smiled.

"Hey Sam. Where's Dean?" Sam had always liked George; she didn't call him Sammy, not even after she'd heard Dean call him that.

"He's upstairs in his room"

"Thanks" she smiled and walked in.

"Where's your dad?" she said, looking around the hall and suppressing a shudder.

George realized she would have to get used to being in the house. She'd been getting more used to it by the day but she didn't feel like she would be able to go into the backyard just yet.

Sam shrugged.

"Dunno. He said he had something to take care of." She nodded.

George thundered up the stairs and stood before Dean's bedroom door. She took a deep breath in. She didn't know what to expect, she didn't know why it was so hard for her to knock. Hell, when it came to Dean she was clueless. All she knew was that she wanted him to stick around, she didn't want him to leave.

She raised her hand to knock when the door was flung open and Dean stood there, water dripping from his hair and onto the floor, wearing nothing but a pair of faded jeans, ripped at the knees.

Her eyes wandered over his chest, it looked too well toned to belong to a sixteen year old. A six pack was already starting to form and his arms were so large and muscled, it was nearly unnatural. There were countless scars fading, but the most recent one made her stomach churn. It was a huge gash going vertically from one side of his chest to the other and disappearing into his pants. It was healing and she knew that those kinds of scars didn't hurt, they stung a bit at the beginning but then it's like they aren't even there.

It didn't make it any easier for her to look at.

There were countless bruises along his arms but she had seen those before. She didn't think John was the kind of man who beat his children, she truly didn't, and in her heart she knew that these scars and bruises had nothing to do with John. In fact, she got the feeling they weren't even manmade, but that was impossible, of course.

She became aware that he was quiet and watching her. She raised her eyes to his and cleared her throat.

"Like what you see Reynolds?" he added a smirk.

She was used to his pick up lines, she lost count how many times he used them on her a long time ago and she was starting to wonder just how he came up with them so fast. She knew that he would never stop hitting on her, he was just that kind of person, but in a strange way she didn't want him to stop.

She snorted.

"You wish Winchester" she brushed past him and into the room.

"My dad has the rifle. The one that has your name. He says it's one of the best one's he's ever had, ironic huh?"

"Yeah I guess" Dean shut the door and she swallowed.

He walked towards her slowly. She tried to seem as calm as possible, taking a deep breath in and leaning against the dresser that she was standing in front of, folding her arms and watching him pick up a towel off the bed and dry his hair with it. He resumed walking towards her.

"So anyway me and my brothers are gonna go and play some basketball in the court behind the school. And I was wondering if you'd want to come." Dean was standing directly in front of her now and he looked at her with his head tilted.

"Sure." He put his hand on her shoulder and her stomach started to burn. He pulled her away from the dresser lightly and bent down to open a drawer. She swallowed again and her mouth became dry.

"I was thinking maybe Sam could come along. Josh and Keith are coming and they're about the same age right? Josh probably won't play though, he usually just sits and watches us. He'd much rather read books than play. You said something about Sam liking to read right? Maybe he and Josh could compare books or whatever. Keith lik-" Dean covered her mouth with his hand.

"George, you're gonna give me a headache"

"Sorry" she said, it came out muffled though, because of Dean's hand. He pulled his hand away.

"Sorry" she repeated, watching him pull his shirt on. She wanted it to stay off.

"I heard you the first time"

"Oh. I'll go ask Sam if he wants to come." She walked out of the room and rested her head against the door, breathing in and out heavily.

**

Dean and Sam had to wait for George to go change. She wore basketball shorts and a tank top, her hair in a ponytail out of her way.

When Dean was in her house he noticed that in most of her pictures her hair was always in elaborate braids, strung with beads and flowers, as opposed to her now plain ponytail or a single braid every once in a while.

Dean had asked her about it later as they were walking to the school and her eyes had turned sad and her shoes suddenly became very interesting to her.

"My mom loved doing my hair for me. She used to experiment on it whenever she got an idea. I'm useless when it comes to these things so now all I can do is put it up" she sounded slightly choked and she had to clear her throat before looking up at him and smiling.

"It was a pain in the ass. I always had to worry about messing it up whenever I was playing football or something" Dean laughed emptily.

The hurt was apparent in her eyes in the one second before she looked down and he regretted ever bringing up the subject, but his guilt diminished slightly when she returned to her normal, hyperactive self.

**

George had six brothers but Josh had stayed out of the game so Dean took his place.

Her youngest brother, Emerson, was tall for his eight years and seemed to look up to all of his siblings. Dean could tell he was closest to Keith but he realized that was probably because Keith was the closest to his age. He was scrawny as well but he was fast as lightning. He had pale blue eyes and dirty blonde hair but all the rest of his features were similar to George's with the exception of the freckles. He was into rollerblading and skateboarding and George explained that the reason Dean never saw him before was because he was always at the skate park with Keith who was teaching him.

Keith and Josh were twins, twelve years old but they were already so different you couldn't even tell they were related. Keith had red hair and brown eyes, freckles and a heart shaped face. Josh was blonde with blue eyes and he had a more squarish face that Dean assumed belonged to some distant member of the family since no one else he'd seen had a face like that.

Keith was a sportaholic, his side of the room was covered with his favorite teams and his closet was filled with balls and sticks and pretty much everything else there was to do with sports. He was always flipping the TV channel to a football game or something similar.

Josh was more like Sam, bookish, geeky, interested in nothing but books and all that junk that Dean didn't understand. His side of the room was lined with shelves and desks, cluttered with papers, open books and pens and pencils and he wanted to watch were documentaries and all that educational bullcrap. There was an endless fight going on in the Reynolds household over possession of the remote.

Jean was the second oldest. He was going to his second year at a community college in Topeka and was on the football team. Dean learned that he has gotten in on a sports scholarship. His chocolate brown hair was cut short, military style. He had pale blue eyes and a heart shaped face. From the pictures Dean had seen, Jean was the exact image of his mother. He had broad shoulders and the muscles on his arms bulged out from beneath the sleeves of his shirt.

Micah was the oldest, twenty four years old. He was a taciturn, frightening figure. Very tall, taller than their father, and he loomed over you, always seemed to be glaring. His dirty blonde hair hung in dreadlocks that reached to the small of his back but when he tied it up it only reached his elbows. A shark tooth hung from one of his ears and he had an eyebrow piercing. He was the only one with green eyes besides George but he didn't have freckles. In fact he didn't look like any of the others. He got along well with all his siblings and he seemed to watch over all of them protectively.

He earned Dean's respect almost immediately.

George and Jean spent nearly a quarter of an hour discussing how to make the teams as fair as possible. In the end Dean ended up on George's team with Jean. Keith, Micah and Emerson were on the opposing side.

They played till one of the teams hit forty, making the game last for about an hour. Dean was amazed at how well George played and he found himself trying to impress her, but from what he could see she didn't even notice.

Her brothers all played well also, but he could tell that when they played it was about having fun and they were all so good natured and light hearted Dean started to not care about the game either. Micah would put Emerson on his shoulders and let him 'dunk' the ball. Keith would jump on Jean's back and grab the ball out of his hands. George would chase Micah around the gym while he held onto the ball, Keith shouting that Micah was travelling the whole time.

Dean enjoyed himself thoroughly but he felt somewhat out of place. He felt like he was intruding on some sacred time that belonged to these six siblings, that he didn't belong there.

After the game all their clothes stuck to their bodies with sweat and their hair was damp. Micah and Jean pulled off their shirts and patted themfselves down with their towels. George and Dean went over to where Josh and Sam were still sitting and she tried her best not to look at him as he pulled his shirt off also and started to dry himself with the towel.

Dean stared at her though, as she dried her hair with her towel and hung her head as if she had a crick in her neck that refused to let her hear the crack of relief. She rubbed the back of her neck than turned back to Dean smiling.

"Some game huh?" she snorted lightly and Dean laughed.

"Some game"

Suddenly Keith and Emerson came running towards them, yelling things she couldn't understand. They had a water bottle each and opened it.

"Don't you dare" George said but they threw the bottle and its contents at her drenching her from head to toe in water.

"Keith! Em! I'm gonna murder you!" she started to chase after them but Micah picked her up and threw him over his shoulder.

"You need to control that temper of yours little sister"

"You smell like a pigsty Micah"

"Thank you for the compliment" he rolled his eyes.

Dean smiled and sat down next to Sam crossed legged who's immediate reaction was to slide away from him.

"Put me down!" she shrieked.

"Sorry sis, no can do" she folded her arms.

Jean came over and started pulling her from Micah's grasp. They pulled her back and forth and Dean was just about to get up and help her when she yelled.

"I'm not made out of taffy you know"

"Really? You fooled us pretty well" they put her down upright. Micah poked her in the ribs.

"You're so thin it's like someone just stuck you in a taffy machine and pulled till all the juice came out" Dean was somewhat disgusted and turned on at the mental image that popped into his head.

She scowled and snapped at them.

"Shut up"

"Make us" they turned away from her and started walking towards the door when she walked backwards and then ran towards them, jumping on both of their backs and slammed their heads together.

Dean winced for them, but they didn't seemed to be hurt they just looked at each other smirking as she walked away and started to flail their arms around and stagger as if they were drunk then they both fell on top of her, bringing the three of them crashing to the ground.

"You dicks! Get off of me" she thrashed around and yelled but it was no use, they just lay there, playing with her hair.

"She's so cute when she's mad isn't she Micah?"

"Awe is Georgiekins mad?" Micah taunted her, pinching her cheeks.

Keith and Emerson rushed over to help pull her out from under them but nothing they could do was capable of helping her. So she folded her arms on the floor and rested her chin on it and waited for her brothers to show mercy.

Dean got up and bent down so he could look directly at her.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. I'll see you later"

"Don't leave me with these insane people Dean, you're the only sane person in this room" she twisted her face to show her pain and pretended to cry.

"Yeah stay, the show isn't even half over yet"

"Shut up Jean"

"You shut up"

"Make me" he pressed her face to the floor.

She said some indistinguishable things that sounded a lot like curse words but Micah and Jean disregarded her.

"No I really should get going, if my dad comes back and doesn't find us there he'll flip. Sam come on we're going home"

"Bye Josh" Sam said and went over to Dean.

"Besides I'm sure you can live through this Georgie" Dean said the last part in a taunting tone and she yelled in frustration. Jean let go of her head and she yelled after Dean.

"I take back what I said. Your just as insane as the rest of them! Do you hear me Winchester?"

"Loud and clear Reynolds" he called back, laughing.

**

"Sam? Dean?" John called, stepping into his house.

"Where have you been? Did you talk to Castiel?" John spun around to be met with the round pale blue eyes he had seen earlier that morning.

"As a matter of fact I did. And I don't think he believed me" she smiled and sighed, relieved.

"No. If you told him than he believed."

"Who's Alistar?" John demanded. He had spent the better half of his day trying to find out who this person was and all he came up with was that he was a very very powerful spawn of hell.

Her eyes turned fearful and her mouth opened.

"Is he here? Oh my god my poor baby you have to do something! Exorcise him, anything!"

"No, he isn't here."

"Don't frighten me like that" she snapped and once again John winced. When she was angry, she was angry.

"I remembered that he was the demon at the nursery. Do you mind telling me what he wants with George?"

"I don't know what he wants, but he wants her, and he wants her alive so he must be planning something big for her. Something bad"

"Dad? You here?" Dean called as he and Sam entered the house.

"Yeah I'll be there in a second Dean" John called over his shoulder. He turned back around but she was gone.