AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey guys. It's me. I'm back. Um... more inspiration I forgot to mention before - the Matthew Swift series by Kate Griffin. Man, does she have a way of making you think. So, this is once again, not something I own, just something I enjoy toying with. I hope you'll read, enjoy, review, and favorite/follow. This chapter is a little bit shorter than the others, but it's a good pausing point, I feel. Like I said, I don't expect to put out a new chapter daily, but hey. Who knows. so far it's looking that way.

Um... no real warnings in this chapter, not really. Let me know what you think. And, of course, please enjoy.

CHAPTER THREE

"So…" Sam drawled for the third time to the girl in front of the bonfire. "Those two vampires over there…"

"Those two people over there," the girl corrected. "That's all they are now." She had pulled on her sweater and jacket, though she left it unzipped despite the cold.

The vampeople (as Dean had started calling them in his head) were huddled close to the fire, whispering to one another happily.

"Fine," Sam said exasperated, "Those two people. What happens to them now?"

She shrugged. "I give them the number to a guy I know. He creates a new identity for them. They do whatever they'd like. Maybe Aiden will go to school. Maybe Inara will open a bakery. Maybe they'll stay together and get married and make lots of little human babies and maybe one of their kids will discover a cure for cancer or something. I don't know. I don't necessarily care, either, to be honest."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You do care," he murmured. "You seem to care quite a bit. Hell, you jumped in front of them to protect them from two machete wielding maniacs."

Her eyes darted toward him. "Fine. I care. But I won't know. They won't contact me again unless they somehow have need of my services. None of them ever do." She looked wistfully at the man and woman, currently just… laughing... as if freezing in the woods while snacking on granola and bottled water was their idea of the perfect night out. "But I hope whatever else happens, that they are happy," she whispered.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "None of them?" Sam asked. "Is this something you do often?"

The girl shrugged. "I've done it enough over the centuries. I know how these things work. They'll tell themselves they'll call me to thank me. But every time they think of me, they'll remember what they were. And they don't want that. And soon enough, they'll convince themselves that I won't want to hear from them." She rubbed her left hand over her right arm, an absentminded, nervous gesture. Not only had she admitted that she had lived far longer than the average human, the Winchesters had just seen her do something impossible, and instead of pleased, she simply seemed sad. "Excuse me," she said, glancing back to the couple. "I need to finish my part of this."

The woman grabbed her canvas bag and pulled out a business card holder, kneeling to hand two cards to each of the vampeople and talk to them about something. After a few minutes during which Sam and Dean stood awkwardly and uncomfortably, the two former monsters stood, each taking a turn to hug the girl before heading back the way they had come. They blatantly ignored the brothers. The girl stood dusting cold, damp dirt from the knees of her jeans, and faced the brothers. She gestured at the fire once more. "You guys need this?"

"Um… no. No thanks," Sam stuttered. "We're okay."

She nodded and the flames dimmed to a dull glow. She sat on the log she'd been sitting on with the two newly-cured vampires earlier and stared into the dying embers.

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So, how old are you?" Dean asked awkwardly.

"Too old," she said mildly, "At least, that's how it feels."

"Uh huh."

She shrugged. "I honestly don't know how old I am. I've been… here for a very, very, very long time. And, sometimes, I dream that I was once somewhere else. Although I suppose everyone has those sorts of dreams from time to time. Would you guys like to have a seat? I never turn down the chance for real company."

"Um, actually, we kind of need to get back to our place," Sam said softly.

"Oh, well, that's understandable," she replied. "I imagine it's pretty cold out here for you guys."

"Yeah, it is."

Dean frowned. "So, wait. You just turned those two vampires into people, right? And now you're just letting them walk away. That one girl said she'd been a vampire for at least a hundred years. Do you really think they're just going to go back to living a perfectly normal life, after all that time of being monsters? You honestly don't think they'll just… I don't know, start killing people because they miss the thrill?" Something twinged in Dean's chest as he said it - a faint reminder of his time spent with the Mark. The urge to perhaps shed a little blood - just for the hell of it.

"They won't," she stated matter of factly.

"But how do you know that?" Dean pressed.

"Because they've been forgiven. They have received their peace. They will. of course, remember the pain and the horrible things they did. But they will understand. That's not who they are anymore. It's not what they are."

Dean glanced back up the trail toward the parking lot. "That's… that's not how it works," he murmured.

The girl sighed heavily. "Yes," she said forcefully. "It is. You guys sure do spend a lot of time telling folks who know better that they're wrong, you know."

Sam swallowed hard. She may have been right on that part.

Dean glanced at Sam. "So, you're the Daughter," he said. "Is that what we call you?"

The girl shrugged. "That's what we call ourself from time to time. But you can call me…" she trailed off as she glanced around the forest, her eyes falling to some English Ivy climbing a nearby tree. "Ivy, if you'd like."

Sam followed her gaze. "Ivy," he repeated.

"It's as good a name as any," she whispered.

"You know, you make finding out about you very difficult," Sam said.

"That's sort of the point. I've encountered your kind before. I understand your mentality. Not human? Then bad. Not bad? Still dangerous. And dangerous means better off dead. I don't want to have to hurt the two of you," she said, glancing up, her eyes catching the moonlight. Both brothers' muscles flexed. Neither liked that phrase.

"Is that a threat?" Dean muttered, his muscles tensing. He remembered the last time someone had said such a thing to him. Dammit, Castiel… we have to find a way to fix you...

"Of course not," Ivy said softly, looking away. "I haven't threatened you at all. I've simply told you how things are. All I want to do is be left in peace. A peace that is harder and harder to find, since the Darkness was released. We can feel it, you know. Even from here. Its pull is hard to resist. But it just wants to devour us. And that's not something we're comfortable letting happen."

"We? Us?" Sam asked, the cold creeping into his bones.

"Yes. We. The Daughter."

"So, there's more than one of you, then?"

"No. There's just me. We. Us. It's… it's difficult to explain."

Dean sneered. He was just about done with this chick. "Listen. Stop jerking us around here and actually answer what we're asking you."

The girl stood, and for just a moment, Sam could've sworn he saw something else behind her eyes. "No," she said angrily. "You don't get to choose what I say to you. You don't get to come here, to my place of power, and then force me to say anything to you. I'm not some pathetic little being that's just so afraid of the big bad monsters in front of me that I will bow down and spill my guts to you. We have been more than kind to you. You would do well to respect that - to respect me."

Sam frowned. "Ivy, we're just humans. We're not monsters."

"You keep telling yourselves that if that's what gets you through the night," she huffed angrily. She reached to grab her canvas bag. "But you both know what you are. You both know what you've done. You call yourselves whatever you'd like. I will do the same."

Dean silently stood, his head down. Monsters, she had said. He once more felt his cheeks heat as he remembered the pain he had caused. The horrible things he had done. The sheer pleasure he had taken from doing them. Here was a girl that had just changed monsters to people. She claimed she had given them peace. And here he and Sam were, bullying her around as if she were just another hunt.

He lifted his eyes to see Ivy watching him, her face echoing the pain he felt inside. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Truly I am."

He turned away from her. "Come on, Sammy," he said softly, "Let's get out of here."

"Wait," Ivy murmured. She reached out to touch Dean's shoulder. The flash of heat that flowed through him when she touched him felt… safe. Like home. "Here," she said, holding out a business card much like the one she had given the two vampeople. "Call me if you need me." She leaned close to Dean, pressing the card into his hand. "I'm in the business of forgiving people, too," she whispered into his ear.

Her touch, her voice, her breath against his ear. It shocked Dean, made him feel things he hadn't felt in what seemed like forever. As she pulled away, her lips brushed Dean's cheek. And in that moment, he felt a clarity that he couldn't remember having felt in… well, he was pretty sure he'd never felt it before. She turned and walked away, through the darkness, her feet making no sound as she passed over fallen leaves and broken branches. And Dean just watched her go his feelings conflicted, as Sam stood awkwardly aside and pretended he hadn't seen the look of longing on Dean's face as he watched her leave.

The Winchesters arrived back at the bunker they'd been lead to by the coordinates within the Men of Letters' ledger Dean had found. It was in what appeared to be a City of Williamsburg Waterworks department building. The bunker was laid out in virtually the same manner as the one they'd called home in Lebanon, leaving both brothers with an eerie sense of deja vu. However, the furnishings were different enough that Dean was left feeling less pained as he walked the halls, and he appeared, at least to Sam, to be more comfortable here. Sam hoped that was a good thing.

"Well, that was a bust," Dean said, removing his jacket and hanging it over one of the chairs resting at the desk.

"Yeah," Sam said absent mindedly. "I guess so."

"Well, I, for one, am beat," Dean said gruffly. "I'm gonna head off to bed."

Sam nodded, a look of concern in his eye. "Sure thing, Dean. I'm gonna go down to the library, see if maybe I can find something that'll help Cas."

Dean nodded. "Good idea. I'll see you in the morning." He walked toward the bedrooms, pausing as he reached the stairs. "Oh, and Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"It'd probably be a good thing if we looked to see if there was anything about this Daughter thing, too."

"Yeah, Dean," Sam replied, trying to keep his voice level. He had heard the hope in Dean's voice just then. And hope was such a fragile thing for his brother. "You read my mind."

"See if you can find a way to kill her," Dean said, his voice trembling with… was that fear? "You know, just in case."

Sam shivered involuntarily. "Yeah, Dean. Just in case."