Dean arrived at 13 Renee's Way about a half an hour after leaving the asylum, parking the Impala in the driveway of the small cottage-like home. He knocked on the front door. "Mrs. Edwards?"

A voice came from behind the door inside the home. "Coming, coming...," A few moments later, the door was opened and an elderly woman holding a grey cat close to her chest in one arm. "I'm Mrs.

Edwards." She said, her brows furrowing. "Who are you?"

"My name is Detective Young, I'm with the FBI," Dean replied, pulling a badge out of the suit he had changed into before leaving the asylum. "If it's alright, I'd like to ask you a couple questions about your grandson."

The woman pulled her bathrobe tighter around herself, stroking the chest of the dark grey cat. She nodded, her brows furrowing." Oh... Of course...," She took a step backwards to let him inside. "It was so

long ago, why is the FBI wanting to look into it now?"

"Exactly what I told them, ma'am," Dean said with a nod. "But I'm just following procedure." He stepped into the home and found himself in the very small living room. From the outside it had looked somewhat cozy, but the inside was a different story. The smell of cat litter was strong in the air, and the room looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in weeks.

The woman shut the door behind herself and ran her fingers through her curling pale hair. "Well, what can I do to help?" she said quietly. "It was quite a shock, you know, Jimmy was such a nice boy, very

bright." She offered Dean a seat on the floral patterned couch and sat down herself in a chair across from it. "He was all I had left... "

Dean nodded, his eyes lowering to the ground. "I understand completely." He cleared his throat. "So, Jimmy was cremated, am I correct?"

The elderly woman nodded, slowly stroking the grey cat's fur. "He never hurt anyone, and those boy's tormented him... nearly drove him crazy with their constant insults and beatings and taking his things

and money..." Other cats had begun to roam about the room. A black cat leapt up onto the back of the couch by Dean's shoulder and watched him closely with its bright eyes.

Dean jerked back a moment in surprise, and eyed the cat, eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat again. "That's a shame. Now, when you say you cremated him... do you mean all of him?" He chuckled nervously.

The woman gave a small, soft chuckle. "Oh yes, Dean. Poor little Jimmy was burned all up." The cat by Dean hissed, its fur standing on end, and the animal in the woman's lap shuddered and dashed away. She grinned broadly, slowly looking up at Dean. "There's no lock of hair or baby teeth or bones that you need to burn," Her voice had changed, sounding instead like Bobby's, and Dean could hear the locks on the

doors sliding into place.

Dean cursed as he jumped up from the couch, reaching for the gun he usually kept in the waistband of the back of his pants, but, remembering he had left it in the Impala, he cursed again. "That wasn't Bobby on the phone. That was you..."

The woman smiled up at him calmly. "You are a smart one, aren't you? Well," She chuckled as she stood up. "Not terribly smart... you left all of your little toys outside. Did you really think that it would be that simple? That you could just come here and burn some little bit of flesh or hair and it would be over? Sorry to disappoint you... I don't give up that easily." With that, she growled and leapt forward, throwing Dean to the ground and holding him there as she leaned over him and her mouth opened unnaturally wide as she began to suck inward, drawing a pale smoke from Dean's mouth. Dean could hear the sound of the doorknob twisting before muffled voices and the sound of shattering wood. Sam, still wearing the pale patient's uniform from the asylum stepped into the room, cocking a gun and firing at the woman, who hissed. Her form flickered then vanished. Sam, glanced about the room then rushed over to Dean, kneeling down beside of him.

"Dean, are you okay?"

"How did you guys get here?" He said, groaning quietly as he sat up, looking over at Ella who stood at the now broken down door.

"We uh... borrowed one of the doctor's cars," Sam said, glancing briefly back to Ella before looking again to his brother. "I knew something was up... because after you left, I realized that tengu are

not spirits... and I knew Bobby would have known that and I remembered that you said they were shape shifters. So I put two and two together and figured you might need some back up." He said. "We have to find it and burn it." He said quickly, standing up and looking around.

"Yeah, before it makes anyone else cuckoo for cocoa puffs," he said with a nod.

Sam nodded and tossed his brother a makeshift flamethrower that was made from a can of hairspray attached to a long candle lighter. He started around the couch and toward the hallway that branched off from the living room. He prodded open one of the doors in the hall with the toe of his shoe and jumped in alarm as a large tabby cat shot out of the room and darted down the hallway. Sam released a heavy, relieved sigh then started to continue down the hall, but was stopped as the woman appeared and flung him against the wall. He dropped his weapon and watched it roll across the hall as the woman dug her jagged fingernails into the skin of his arms. He tried to keep from looking at her, but she grabbed his chin and turned him to face her, forcing his mouth open as she dropped her jaw. As the pale smoke began to issue between his lips, he vaguely heard his brother calling his name.

Suddenly, the woman was engulfed in a fountain of flames. She dropped Sam, who staggered away and grabbed his own weapon. He turned and aimed it toward the creature, who was screeching and writhing as the flames reduced her to ash.

TWO AND A HALF MONTHS LATER…

Oshea took a deep breath as she zipped up her duffel bag and fingered the plane ticket in her hands. Dean was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with an unreadable expression. "You're leaving…"

Oshea nodded, grabbing her bag and slinging the strap over her shoulder. "Yes. I'll be back in a couple weeks. I just… have to do something." She said, slipping around him and going through the hotel toward the door. She opened it, hearing the honk of the taxi sitting outside waiting for her. She heard Dean following her, and she felt her throat tightening. She didn't want to leave, not when the time was drawing near that Dean's bill would have to be paid. She felt her eyes burning.

"This can't wait?" She heard Dean ask from the doorway.

She shook her head and put the duffel bag into the back of the taxi. "No, I'm sorry… I'll be back as soon as possible, alright?" Her voice was a little unsteady, and it was all she could do to keep from crying. She climbed into the car and leaned back against the seat, tears easing down her cheeks as the driver pulled away from the hotel.