Winchester and Cain

by smeewrites

Remember when Sam and Dean were driving in the Impala on that deserted highway in that pilot episode? You're probably gonna have to think a little bit to remember. They're driving and they almost hit a mysterious girl dressed all in black, standing in the middle of the road - like she has no idea where she is, 'girl in black' sounds like a beloved book character we all know, right?

11. Chapter 11

Winchester and Cain

Chapter 11—Scarecrow

PREVIOUSLY

I glanced at Sam and he frowned and reached for the phone, confusion crossed his features as he read the number and answered it, "Hello." He greeted in a bored tone, I watched as he listened, frowning when Sam shot up from his bed, "Dad?" Sam whispered.

"Are you hurt?" Sam sat up in his bed in panic, "We've been looking for you everywhere," Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "We didn't know where you were, if you were ok."

"Morning." I heard a voice beside me and looked down to see Dean sleepily smiling up at me, he reached up to stroke my cheek and I smiled back.

"We're fine. Dad, where are you?" Sam continued, upon hearing this Dean sat bolt upright, his head whipped around and faced his brother, "What? Why not?" Sam's tone turned suddenly angry.

"Is that Dad?" Dean asked.

"You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mum." Sam accused, there was a pause and I turned to frown at Dean: what was he talking about? "A demon? You know for sure?"

"A demon?" I echoed, confused, "What's he saying?"

"You know where it is?" Sam continued, ignoring Dean completely, "Let us help!" He suddenly demanded in a loud voice, making Dean and I jump, "Why not?"

Dean held his hand out to Sam, "Give me the phone."

"Names? What names, Dad – talk to me, tell me what's going on." Sam ran a hand through his dark, shaggy locks, "No. Alright? No way." He shook his head frustratedly.

"Give me the phone." Dean asked again, a little forcefully this time. Sam turned his back on us stubbornly, the room fell silent and a commanding male voice could be heard on the other end of the speaker, after a few more seconds he suddenly grabbed it from Sam's hand, wrenching it from his grip and standing up and walking away.

"Dad, it's me. Where are you?" Dean spoke quickly, I glanced at Sam and then back at Dean as he nodded at the phone, "Yes sir," My eyes widened in alarm as I heard Dean's tone change, "Uh, yeah, I got a pen. What are their names?" Dean ignored us as he snatched up a pen on a nearby table and began to write something down on a scrap of paper.

We had left the shabby hotel room soon after the call had ended, there was no conversation: Dean immediately started packing and herding us out the door. Needless to say Sam and I weren't happy about it. Least of all Sam. "Alright, so, the names Dad gave us – they're all couples?" The youngest Winchester shot his brother a doubtful look as we drove down an empty road.

"Three couples. All went missing." Dean nodded once, his gaze transfixed on the road.

I leant forward in my seat, "And they're all from different towns – different states?" I asked.

"That's right. You got Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again." Dean answered, I nodded and cleared my throat as the car fell into an uneasy silence.

"Well, it's a big country, Dean. They could've disappeared anywhere." Sam reasoned with a small shrug of his large shoulders.

"Yeah, could've," Dean tore his gaze from the road and looked at his brother, "But each couple's route took them to the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."

"And this is the second week of April." I piped up.

"Yep." Dean switched his gaze back to the road again.

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?" Sam asked, frowning at his brother in utter amazement.

"Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different bits Dad had to go through? The man's a master." Dean gushed, Sam sighed irritably and shook his head.

"Right, I can't take this anymore. Pull over." Sam said with an annoyed expression.

Dean frowned as the car slowed and pulled off on the side of the road, "Why?" He asked as he turned the car off.

"Dean, we're not going to Indiana." Sam stated.

"We're not?" Dean frowned, casting a confused glance at me in the back seat.

"No, we're going to California," Sam explained, "Dad called from a payphone – Sacramento area code."

"Sam -." Dean tried.

"Dean," Sam cut his brother off, "If this demon killed Mum and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help."

"Dad doesn't want our help." Dean argued.

"I don't care." Sam shrugged, I stayed quiet and watched as the brothers both grew frustrated towards eachother.

"He's given us an order." Dean frowned.

"I don't care," Sam groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh, "We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs – save lives. It's important." Dean told him.

"Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge." Sam responded, Dean scoffed and looked back at me.

"Are you hearing this?" He asked me, I held my hands up.

"Hey, don't ask me, it's not my place." I said, Dean rolled his eyes and looked back at his brother in the front seat.

"Alright," Dean sighed heavily, "Look, I know how you feel."

"Do you?" Sam snapped in reply, my eyes widened at his sudden aggressive tone, Dean looked taken aback, "How old were you when Mum died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?" Sam seethed, Dean stared at him, shocked.

"Dad said it wasn't safe," Dean raised an eyebrow, "For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something we don't, so if he says to stay away – we stay away."

"I don't understand the – the blind faith you have in the man. It's like you don't even question him." Sam huffed.

"Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Dean shouted, there was a pause, Sam shook his head and opened the door on his side and got out, Dean and I exchanged a glance and followed him out. Sam had opened the trunk and was getting his rucksack and bag, "You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks." The elder brother glared at Sam and I shoved him a little.

"Dean," I gave him a look, "Stop it."

"No, no, no." Sam held his hand up, cutting me off, "That's obviously what you really think, Dean."

"Yeah, it is." Dean nodded coldly.

"Well," Sam narrowed his eyes, "Then this selfish bastard is going to California." He turned away from us, slinging on his backpack as he did so.

"Come on, you're not serious, Sam." I walked over to him and tugged on his arm.

He whirled furiously and towered over me, "I am serious." He snapped, shoving me away from him angrily.

"Sam, stop it!" Dean called to Sam's retreating figure, "Come on, it's the middle of the night! I'm taking off with Steph, I will leave your ass, you hear me?" Sam halted and turned around.

"That's what I want you to do." Sam glared at his brother.

I shook my head, "Guys, stop it, come on." I tried, but I was ignored.

"Goodbye, Sam." Dean said, I looked back at Dean but didn't move towards him, instead I turned back to Sam and held my hand out.

"You don't have to leave, we can figure something out." I begged, looking at him with sad eyes.

Sam stared at me and then sighed, "Go with Dean, Steph."

"Not without you." I said stubbornly.

"Steph, let's go!" Dean called to me, I glanced back at Dean and then at Sam again, torn. Sam rolled his eyes and walked over to me, and for that second I thought he was changing his mind. But he merely pushed me towards Dean and the car. Someone was tugging on my arm, pulling me towards the car, I looked up and saw Dean and started struggling.

"Dean let go!" I protested, but he used his other arm to clamp my free arm, "We can't leave Sam!"

"He doesn't wanna come along, Steph. We gotta go." Dean said, ignoring my struggles. "Goodbye, Sam." He called over his shoulder to his brother in a dull, dejected voice. He pulled me towards the car, shutting the trunk and opening the passenger door, "Get in the car, Steph." He ordered.

I shook my head and crossed my arms, "Not without Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes and bundled me into the passenger seat, strapping me in and slamming the door shut, as soon as he walked away from the door I unclipped the seatbelt and clambered into the back seat. Dean got into the drivers seat and sighed when he looked into the rear-view mirror, "Steph, why are you in the back?"

"Because I don't sit in the front: that's Sam's seat." I told him blankly, then turned and stared out the window, ignoring him completely as we pulled away.

It was mid-morning when we pulled up outside a modest diner with a big sign with the American flag on it, on the sign it read:

SCOTTY'S CAFE

Dean turned the engine off and stretched, yawning as he took his phone from his pocket and flipped it on, I looked over his shoulder and saw he was thinking about dialling Sam, I looked up and silently willed him to do it: to ring him and apologise, to put all their differences aside because they were family. But none of that happened, Dean shut off his phone and got out the car, before he closed his door he peered in at me, I resumed my position of crossing my arms and not looking at him. "Come on, let's go get breakfast." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dean give me a smile. I didn't reply and kept my gaze fixated on a bird wandering out on the road, "Are you gonna stare out that window forever? Come on." Dean's smile got wider but I didn't respond, after a few more seconds he sighed and shut the door, I focused my attention back on the bird, it was pecking absent-mindedly at the ground. My view of the bird was suddenly blocked by Dean, he opened the door and crouched until he was at my eye level, "I know you can't stay mad at me forever, Steph." He pointed out.

"Yes I can." I replied, although a smile played on my lips.

"No you can't. It's impossible to stay mad at me. You know, because I'm me." He smirked, I glanced at his face and rolled my eyes.

"I hate you." I said as my smile grew wider.

"No you don't. Now let's go." Dean stepped back and I got out the car, it felt good to stretch my legs after a long car journey.

On the porch of the diner there was a man in his late forties sat enjoying the morning air with a cup of coffee and a cigarette, he watched us with calculating eyes as we approached him. "Let me guess," Dean smiled in greeting and pointed to Scotty, "Scotty."

The man looked up at the big sign above his head, "Yep." He nodded, his voice gruff.

"Hi, my name's John Bonham and this is my girlfriend, Alison Plant." Dean introduced us with a friendly smile.

"John Bonham..." The man echoed thoughtfully, taking a drag from his cigarette, "Isn't that the drummer from Led Zeppelin?" He turned and looked at me, "And Alison was the name of Robert Plant's sister, right?"

Dean stared at Scotty with a shocked expression, "Wow. Good. Classic rock fan."

"What can I do for you, John?" The old man asked, Dean dug in his pocket and produced two crumpled bits of paper, they were the Missing Person flyers for the couple who went missing.

"We were wondering if, uh, you'd seen these people by any chance." Dean answered.

Scotty took a long look at each picture, "Nope. Who are they?"

"Friends of ours. They went missing about a year ago, and they passed through somewhere around here. We've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem and -."

"Sorry," Scotty cut me off and shoved the flyers back into my hands, "We don't get many strangers around here." He explained a little too hastily for my taste, I narrowed my eyes as Dean nodded.

"Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?" Dean's sudden comment threw us all off, Scotty and I stared at him in confusion, "Never mind," Dean chuckled and then grabbed my hand, pulling me away, "See you around." He called to the old man on the steps.

Dean and I found a small petrol station a little way down the road from the diner, it was owned by an ageing couple, Stacy and Harley Jorgeson, and a girl who was around Sam's age called Emily. "You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?" Dean inquired as he Stacy and Harley studied the photos.

The couple shook their heads, "Nope, don't remember 'em. You two said they were friends of yours?" Harley replied in a scratchy but friendly tone.

"That's right." I nodded, Emily came downstairs carrying a box in her hands.

"Did the guy have a tattoo?" She asked.

"Yeah, he did actually." I nodded slowly, Emily looked over Harley's shoulder at the pictures of the missing couple.

"Don't you remember?" She looked up at the couple in confusion, "They were just married."

"You're right," Harley snapped his fingers, a sudden wide smile spread across his face, "They did stop for gas, weren't here for more than ten minutes."

"You remember anything else?" Dean directed the question at Harley, but he looked at Emily as he spoke.

"I told 'em how to get back to the interstate. They left town." The man shrugged.

"I see," I nodded, "Could you point us in that direction?"

"Sure." Harley looked at his wife and she smiled kindly.

I sat up in the front of the car next to Dean this time. We drove on in silence down a single road, not even the music was playing. I looked out the window and enjoyed the pretty colours of an early autumn of the orchard that we were driving past. Suddenly there was a whining sound accompanied with some beeping, I glanced at Dean and he frowned, "What the hell?" He said as he slowed down and pulled over. I turned and followed the sound of the beeping, it was coming from a bag in the backseat. I rifled in the bag until I pulled out a small object and showed it to Dean: it was the EMF meter, and it was flashing frantically.

"Is it broken?" I asked as I frowned at the device.

"No, something around here's setting it off," Dean replied, taking the EMF meter from me and holding it out in front of him, "Come on, let's go check it out." He said, I nodded and we got out the car. Dean pressed a button on the meter and it switched off, he pocketed it as we climbed over a fence and entered the orchard. We walked in silence for a few minutes, I had my right hand out and was reading the air, trying to detect anything that could jump out and maim us at any instant. I jumped when Dean tapped my shoulder, I turned to glare at him but he pointed to something up ahead. There was a clearing around the masses of apple trees and in the middle was a scarecrow tied to a post, we walked closer to it and I cocked my head as I studied it: it was dressed in the same haphazard fashion as most scarecrows, and it had a leather stitched head and stitched old clothing, on it's head was an old leather mud-covered hat. Suddenly, Dean broke the silence: "Dude," He announced in a serious tone, "You're fugly." Dean and I caught eachother's gaze and burst out laughing, I leant against a tree for support as Dean tried to gather himself. After the giggling had subsided Dean studied the scarecrow again. He frowned as he was looking up at the scarecrow's left hand, "Hey, Steph? Can you get me that ladder by that tree over there?" He pointed to the area of where the ladder was leant up against a tree, his eyes still fixed on the scarecrow's hand. I shrugged to myself but did as he asked, he steadied it against the post the scarecrow was tied to and climbed up it.

"What are you looking at?" I asked as he began to move the scarecrow's clothing, it rustled in the quiet.

"Shhh." Dean replied, I frowned but stayed quiet as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, he opened it and I saw it was the missing persons flyer for the missing man, Vince. Dean held the picture up and compared it with the scarecrow's left limb, "Huh." Dean muttered as he stuffed the picture back in his pocket.

My frowned deepened, "What is it?"

Dean didn't answer, instead he looked up at the scarecrow, "Nice tat."

I stared at Dean confusedly as we drove back to the petrol station, "So, the scarecrow had a... tattoo." I said slowly.

"Mmmhmm." Dean nodded as he kept his eyes fixed on the road.

"And it's the same one as the guy who went missing?" I pressed, Dean nodded again as the car slowed as he pulled into the station.

"So it's the scarecrow. Although maybe it's a scarecrow that's – that's not a scarecrow." I realised, the car came to a complete stop and Dean turned to look at me.

"Exactly. We need to ask around and find out more about the creepy hay-man. Starting with -." Dean cut off and pointed out the window, I followed his finger and spotted Emily, she was stood with her back to us and was busying herself with the petrol pumps. Dean and I got out the car, I stretched gratefully in the sunlight as Emily turned to us.

"You're back." She noted.

"Never left." Dean shrugged in response.

"Are you still looking for your friends?" She asked.

"Yeah." I nodded.

"You mind filling her up there, Emily?" Dean asked, the girl shrugged and grabbed a pump, Dean stepped away from me and carefully opened the fuel hatch on his gleaming black pride and watched with careful eyes as Emily began to fill the car up.

"Did you grow up here?" I asked, frowning at Dean slightly.

"I came here when I was thirteen, I lost my parents – car accident," She added, anticipating my next question.

"I'm sorry," I said sympathetically, "Then what happened?"

"My aunt and uncle took me in." She answered, looking back at the Jorgeson general store.

"They're nice people." Dean complimented.

Emily shrugged and lifted the pump out of the fuel hatch, "Everybody's nice here."

Dean and I followed her as she put the fuel pump back in it's holder, "So, what? It's the, uh, perfect little town?" I asked.

"Well, you know, it's the Boonies. But I love it. I mean – the towns around us; people are losing their homes, their farms. But here? It's almost like we're blessed." Emily answered, looking down the road and off into the distance, I glanced at Dean and raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, have you been to that orchard? Seen that scarecrow?" Dean asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, it creeps me out." Emily laughed, I cracked a smile as I remembered Dean's earlier comment.

"Do you, uh, know whose it is?" I inquired.

"I don't know," Emily shook her head, "It's just always been there."

"Right." I nodded, the conversation died down and I looked away awkwardly.

"Is that your aunt and uncle's?" Dean broke the silence, I looked back and saw he was admiring a red sports car parked a little way off.

"Customer. Had some car troubles." Emily answered.

"It's not a couple is it? A guy and a girl?" Dean pressed, his tone suddenly urgent.

"Mmmhmm." Emily nodded, Dean gave me a look and I nodded.

"Oh, hey, Scotty," Dean called to the ageing man as we entered the diner, "Can I get two coffees, black?" Scotty nodded and walked away, Dean and I smiled at the couple as we approached them, "Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it."

We sat at the table near to the couple, "Hey, how you doing?" I greeted with a big smile, the couple both smiled in return, "Are you two just passing through?" I asked.

"Road trip." The girl nodded.

"Hm. Yeah, us too." Dean piped up.

Scotty walked back over to the couple and refilled their drinks, "I'm sure these people want to eat in peace." He said in a stiff tone.

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean shrugged innocently, Scotty grunted and walked away, "Oh, and that coffee too, man." Dean called to him, Scotty didn't respond and Dean turned back to the couple, "So, what brings you to town?"

"We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives." The girl explained.

"Is that right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking, we had no idea. He was fixing it for us." The man nodded.

Dean and I exchanged a look, "Nice people." I muttered.

"Yeah," The man nodded, "That's a nice accent, where are you from?" He asked.

"Uh," The question caught me off guard, "I'm from Ireland."

"Huh. And what brings you to America?" The man asked.

"It's a long story," I smiled weakly, glancing at Dean, "So, how long till you're up and running?"

"Sundown." The girl answered.

"Really?" Dean frowned and glanced at me, then back to the couple, "To fix a brake line?" The man nodded, "You see, me and my girl know a thing or two about cars, we could probably have you up and running in about an hour – and we wouldn't charge." Dean tried.

"You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it." The girl smiled politely.

"Sure, I know." Dean nodded in understanding and paused, "It's just that these roads – they're not safe at night."

The couple stopped eating and stared at Dean in amazement, "I'm sorry?" The girl coughed.

"We know it sounds strange, but... uh – you might be in danger." I told them.

"Look, we're trying to eat. Ok?" The man shot me an irritated glance.

I narrowed my eyes and shifted in my seat, Dean reached out and put a warning hand on my arm, "Yeah, ok." He said. The couple looked at us worriedly and I glanced at Dean and he sighed, "You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you'd just buy right into it."

Behind us, the bell above the entrance to the diner chimed, I turned to see who'd entered and quickly turned back around and tapped Dean: it was an officer. "Thanks for coming, Sheriff." Scotty's voice sounded as he walked over to the officer, Dean and I watched as Scotty whispered something to the sheriff, they turned to look at us and we turned away quickly, my eyes widened when I heard approaching footsteps.

"Afternoon," The sheriff greeted the four of us, the couple stared up at the sheriff and then quickly busied themselves with their food, the officer leaned down until he was eye level with Dean and I, "I'd like a word please, you two." He ordered.

"Oh come on," Dean huffed, "We're already having a bad day."

"You know what would make it worse?" The sheriff glared at him, Dean stared up at the sheriff for a moment before he nodded slowly, the sheriff crossed his arms ,"Hmph. There's been a phone call, apparently you two are harassing some customers." He grunted.

"Huh, so we're not allowed a nice, friendly conversation?" I asked innocently.

The sheriff stared at me for a moment, "Right, I'm gonna have to ask you both to leave." He sighed.

I opened my mouth to protest but Dean cut me off: "That's fine, we were just leaving anyway." He said, grabbing my hand and standing up. The sheriff nodded to Scotty and the couple as he followed us out.

"This is ridiculous." I growled under my breath as Dean and I were herded towards the car, the sheriff stood in an imperious stance as he watched us get in the car, Dean pulled away sharply, beeping once to the sheriff before we pulled out onto the main road, "What a dick." I muttered as I looked up and saw the officer watching our departure in the rear-view mirror.

"Don't worry, I reckon that couple's in danger, we're gonna come back and check things out later." Dean assured me as he started fiddling with his stereo.

I was sleepily gazing out the window of the car as we drove back to Burkitsville, we waited until night until Dean thought it was time to get back, I could just about make out the dark outlines of the trees in the orchard where we found the creepy scarecrow. We suddenly passed a dark, distinctive shape with red lights and I frowned, "Dean, go back." I said, sitting up and yawning.

"Huh?" Dean asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

"I think, I think we passed something back there. It looked like a car on the side of the road." I told him, Dean nodded.

"Better check it out." Dean murmured, he suddenly turned the steering wheel hard and slammed the handbrake on, the car expertly swerved and skidded until it had spun a half turn, the car jolted to a stop once we were on the other road and facing the other way. We raced to where the car was and parked behind, I checked my ring whilst we jumped out. We ran and cleared the fence in one terrific leap, Dean stayed on his feet whilst I rolled and sprung up – just like Tanith had taught me. We slowed as we reached a small clearing, we paused and tried to listen for something over the sound of our heavy breathing, "Where the hell are they?" Dean huffed.

"Hang on," I splayed my hands out and closed my and concentrated, feeling the air four metres in a circle around us, five metres, six metres, ten metres... "There," I opened my eyes and pointed to the right, "Their up there, running. I think something's chasing them." I told him, we heard a scream and pelted off towards it. We almost collided with them in the dark, they looked at us with wide, scared eyes. "Dean..." I whispered, "Something's up there." I pointed behind the couple.

Dean looked at the couple with hard eyes, "Get back to your car," He ordered, there was a rustling and the couple turned to see the scarecrow approach from the gloom, "Go! Go!" Dean shouted, his tone urgent. The couple didn't need telling a third time, they took off through the trees without another glance behind them. The scarecrow stopped and cocked his head at us; as if he were analysing us, then he started walking towards us. If you could call it walking, it was the combination of an awkward yet strangely confident shuffle and a clumsy lurch. Then it raised it's arm and something glinted. Sickle. Dean flicked the safety off his gun and aimed, a bullet smacked into the scarecrow's torso, it stumbled but it kept going, taking those strange strides – it didn't look awkward and clumsy anymore. Dean fired again and the scarecrow continued, unperturbed. Shadows burst from my ring and slashed savagely at the leather clad figure, it paused and looked down, then made an angry low growling sound.

I glanced at Dean, "Run?"

He fired three last times before the gun made a hollow click, "Son of a-."

"Come on!" I rolled my eyes and snapped my palms out, the scarecrow: now no less than three metres away, was forced back and I grabbed Dean's arm and took the opportunity, pulling him from the clearing and sprinting away. The couple was stood by some trees waiting for us, "What are you still doing here?" I demanded then sighed, "Just go!" The coupled kept going and we stopped and turned, I clicked my fingers and summoned a flame, waiting for the scarecrow to burst out from the trees.

"Is it still there?" Dean asked.

I raised my other hand and splayed my palm, reading the air carefully. Satisfied, I lowered both hands back down, letting the flame die out, "Nah, it's gone."

"Great. Now we can leave." Dean smiled and together we walked back to where the car was, I frowned when I saw the couple still stood by the fence waiting for us, upon seeing us the woman stormed over to us.

"What the hell was that?" She asked, I recognised hysteria in her eyes and gave Dean a glance and walked away, leaving him to deal with the overly-emotional woman. I walked up and leant against the fence next to the man.

"So... that happened." The man coughed awkwardly.

"Yep."

"You gonna tell me what that thing was?" He asked.

"Nope."

There was a pause.

"What about you and that guy? Who are you people?" He pressed.

I glanced at him, "Again, don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."

Dean and I crashed in his car for the night, making sure we parked up anywhere but near the orchard where the creepy, unkillable scarecrow was. I woke up to Dean on the phone to someone, "Yeah, I'm tellin' ya: Burkitsville, Indiana. Fun town." Dean was saying, I stretched and yawned the sleep away.

"Who are you talking to?" I asked him.

"Hang on, Sam." Dean said into the phone, I leant forward eagerly as Dean put the phone on loudspeaker.

"Sam?" I asked hopefully.

"Hey, Steph." I could tell Sam was smiling into the phone.

"Oh thank God," I sighed happily, "Sam, we're gonna need you back pronto." I told him.

"Dean's that bad, huh?" Sam chuckled.

"Yep," I laughed when I saw the look of hurt on Dean's face, "Where are you, anyway?"

"Bus Station waiting for a ride to California, fun times." Sam answered, I could hear the exhaustion in his tone.

"Sounds great," I drawled, "Did Dean tell you what we found down here?"

"Uh, yeah. Some scarecrow killing off random couples or something?" Sam replied.

"Basically. Did he mention how everything in this town is perfect – the lack of disease, fresh crops every year, that kind of thing?" I said.

"Yeah, I don't think it's a spirit animating it," Dean piped up, "I reckon it's a God. Or a pagan God, anyway."

"A pagan God?" I echoed, confused.

"What makes you say that?" Sam asked at the same time.

"Well, the annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman – like some kind of fertility right. Think about it, Steph, how the locals were treating that couple." Dean looked at me and I frowned, trying to remember.

"The pie," I realised, "Scotty kept giving them free portions of pie."

"Right," Dean nodded, "Fattenin' 'em both up like a Christmas turkey."

"Gross." I mumbled, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

"The last meal," Sam explained, "Given to sacrificial victims."

"Yeah, I'm thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan God." Dean agreed.

"So, you're saying the God possesses the scarecrow..." I said in speculation.

"And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won't wilt, and disease won't spread." Dean nodded.

"Do you two know which God you guys are dealing with?" Sam asked.

"No, not yet." I shook my head, even knowing Sam couldn't see the gesture.

"Well, once you two figure out what it is, you can figure out a way to kill it." The younger Winchester pointed out.

"Yeah, we know. We're about to hit the local community college," Dean started.

"We are?" I frowned.

"Yep, whilst you were cat napping I booked an appointment with a professor," Dean nodded, "You know, since Steph and I don't have our trusty sidekick geek to do all the research." He added.

Sam laughed and I cracked a grin at the sound of it booming from the phone speaker, "You know, if you guys are hinting you need my help, just ask." He offered.

"We're not hinting anything," Dean shook his head, he glanced at me and I gave him a look. He knew what I wanted him to say next, "Actually, Sam... uh – I want you to know... I mean, don't think..." He trailed off awkwardly.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, too." Sam finished for his brother in a sad tone, "And Steph, I'm sorry I shoved you... twice." He added.

"I forgive you, I guess... but I swear: if you try that again, Sam Winchester, I will hit you so hard, your-."

"Ok, ok, that's enough," Dean cut me off with a chuckle, "But joking aside, Sam, I realised that you were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life." He admitted.

"Are you serious?" Sam asked in a disbelieving tone.

"You've always known what you want and you go after it. You stand up to Dad, and you always have. Hell, I wish I – anyway... I admire that about you. I'm proud of you Sammy." Dean finished with a small smile.

"I don't even know what to say." Sam eventually spoke.

"Say you'll take care of yourself." Dean's smile grew wider.

"I will." His brother promised.

"Call us when you find your Dad." I added, scared Dean and Sam were going to hang up.

"Ok. Bye, Dean. See you soon, Steph." Sam replied and then he hung up, Dean and I sat in silence listening to the dial tone.

"Right," Dean sighed heavily, "Shall we hit this college?"

"Yep." I nodded sadly.

"It's not everyday I get a research question on pagan ideology." The college professor looked at Dean and I behind his wide spectacles.

"Yeah, well, it's a little hobby of ours." Dean shrugged.

"But you aid you two were interested in local lore?" The professor asked.

"That's the one." I nodded with a smile.

"I'm afraid Indiana isn't really known for its pagan worship." The professor frowned.

"Well, what if it was imported? You know, like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?" Dean asked, relaying the quick five minutes research we had done on the Indiana state whilst we were waiting for the professor.

"That is correct." The professor nodded slowly.

"Like that town near here: Burkitsville. Where are their ancestors from?" I pressed.

"Uh, northern Europe, I believe: Scandinavia." The professor took off his large spectacles and cleaned them on his shirt.

"What could you tell us about those pagan Gods?" Dean queried.

"Well, uh, there are hundreds of Norse Gods and Goddesses." The man answered.

"We're actually looking for one, one that could live in an orchard?" I tried.

"I might have some research on forest and woodland pagan worship, they're in my classroom," The professor got up from his chair and walked to the door of his office, then he turned and looked at Dean and I, "If you two would like to follow me, I can show you."

"Uh, yeah, sure." Dean shrugged and got up from his chair, I got up too and we followed the professor down the hall until he led us into his classroom. The professor hastily grabbed a chair and put it next to a ridiculously large bookcase, filled with hundreds and hundreds of thick, dusty books. With a small grunt the man climbed onto the chair and began to read along one of the higher shelves, his finger tracing along the spines of the books as he went.

"Ah, here we are." The professor eventually said, he grabbed a large, faded green book and jumped from the chair, "Woods God, right?" He asked as he slammed the book onto the front desk.

"That's right." I nodded.

"Well, lets see." The man said as he leafed through the dusty pages, the pages were either covered with tiny text writings, or illustrated with painstakingly neat ink drawings of figures and animals.

"Wait, wait, wait. What's that one?" Dean pointed to a picture of a scarecrow on a post surrounded by some farmers in a field.

"Oh, that's not a woods God, per se." The professor shook his head.

"'The V – Vanir'?" Dean read the title, the professor nodded and Dean continued, "'The Vanir were Norse Gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practised human sacrifice: one male, and one female.'" He finished and I tilted my head as I studied the picture, it looked hauntingly familiar to the one that had tried to slash us to death last night.

"Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?" I glanced up at the college teacher.

"I – I suppose." The professor nodded.

"'This particular Vanir has it's energy sprung from the sacred tree'?" I finished reading the caption of the picture with a confused glance at the professor.

"Well, pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic." The professor explained.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow, feeling the comfortable chill of my necromancy ring on my forefinger.

"So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the God?" Dean took over.

The teacher chuckled, "Guys, these are just legends we're discussing."

"Oh, of course. Yeah, you're right," Dean and I exchanged a look, "Listen, thank you very much." He smiled and shook the professor's hand, I did the same.

"That's a very intriguing ring you have there." The professor said, looking at my necromancy ring with interest.

"It is, isn't it?" I grinned, looking down at it.

"May I study it for a moment?" The teacher looked up at me behind his large spectacles.

"I'm afraid not, we have to be going." I sent him an apologetic smile, feeling a little uneasy. I backed away from the teacher politely and joined Dean at the classroom door, he opened it and we were met with three men in uniforms, the sheriff struck Dean on the head with the back of his rifle. I cried out when Dean slumped to the ground and backed up into the classroom as the officers advanced, one of them moved forward and tried to restrain me, but his hold wasn't strong enough and I easily slipped out of it, firing an elbow into his face as I did so. He yelled and staggered away, his hands went to his face and clutching his nose, the sheriff and the remaining officer exchanged a look before circling me, their movements were slow and deliberate: cautious.

I glanced at the professor with wide eyes, "Go! Get help!" The professor leant against his desk and crossed his arms, he glanced at the sheriff and I watched in horror as they exchanged a knowing glance, "You're in on it." I breathed.

"Yep. We're all in on it." The teacher grinned. I groaned and smacked my forehead: bad move. The officers struck, the officer moved behind me and gripped my arms behind my back, he kicked the back of my knee and it buckled and I was forced on my knees.

"Motherfu-." I was cut off when the sheriff stepped over and smacked me in the head with his rifle, I saw stars burst along my vision for a second, and then everything faded into black.

"Steph? Steph, come on, wake up!" A voice broke my sleep and I opened my eyes, Dean was crouched beside me, shaking me awake gently.

I sat up groggily, "Those bastards." I growled, rubbing the place where the sheriff had hit me with his stupid gun.

"Are you ok?" Dean asked me, his voice laced with concern.

"Fine." I muttered, standing up in a huff, "Where the hell are we?" I asked, suddenly realising we were stood in the cold and the dark.

"I think it's a cellar." Dean answered, I clicked my fingers and summoned a flame, the warm orange glow illuminated our surroundings.

"Definitely a cellar." I nodded, noting all the random pieces of junk that was scattered around the concrete floor.

"They took my phone, I can't call Sam for help." Dean said.

"Of course they did." I sighed and sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor, there wasn't much point standing around: we weren't going to get rescued anytime soon. I stared at the flame in my palm for a moment then frowned, noticing something: "Oh, you have got to be kidding me." I groaned.

"What? What's wrong?" Dean asked, walking over to me.

"My ring," I explained angrily, "It's gone."

"What, the, uh, necromancy ring?" Dean asked, I got up and walked over to the entrance of the cellar and rammed my fists against it.

"Fucking bastards!" I screamed, hoping they could hear me.

"Hey, hey, hey. We'll get it back, ok?" Dean offered me a small, unsure smile but I didn't respond, instead I looked down at my hands, my hair moved like a dark curtain over my face as I stared at my shaking hands. They were shaking because I was so angry, but I felt strangely calm about the current situation – that in itself was unsettling.

Dean had taken up the task of trying to open the door, whilst I had decided to stand idly by and bore myself by staring at the wall opposite me, "So," I said, studying my fingernails in one hand and keeping the flame in the other, "Getting sacrificed by a pagan God was not the way I thought I'd die."

Dean grunted, "Well, I don't know, it's classier than killing, I guess."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, then frowned, "But seriously? A scarecrow God? It's gonna sound a little far-fetched written on my grave," I put my hand up, "'Here lies Valkyrie Cain – who was put to death by the scarecrow's bane.'" I moved my hand through the air, counting the letters as I spoke.

"At least it rhymes." Dean muttered, a smile growing on his face.

"Well, what else can it really do? Apart from sounding ridiculous." I shrugged, smiling back. "You should give up on opening that." I added.

Dean looked up at the cellar doors, "Well, I gotta do something to help us get outta here."

"Yeah," I sat cross-legged on the cold floor again, "But you're not actually helping us, are you? You're wasting your energy for when we need it."

Dean raised an eyebrow, "And when is that, exactly?"

"Come on, Dean, we've gone up against worse than people, surely. Even before I was zapped here – you must have been fighting worse creatures, right?" I asked.

Dean nodded slowly, "I guess..." He abandoned the door and sat next to me, "So tell me, what's the hardest thing you've ever had to do?"

I stretched my arms and exhaled slowly, "Depends, I've been up against some crazy things over the years."

"Like what?"

"I've fought vampires, evil sorcerers, remnants -."

"Wait, wait, wait. What's a remnant?" Dean asked, frowning in confusion as he cut me off.

"Oh, uh... They're basically black evil soul things that go around possessing people, around two thousand of them were locked away, but they all got out, so we had to stop them." I explained briefly.

Dean stared at me with wide eyes, "And, how did you do that, exactly?"

"With a big snowglobe-y hoover thing." I answered with a shrug.

"A – a 'big snowglobe-y hoover thing'?" Dean repeated slowly.

"Yep." I nodded.

There was a brief pause.

"What else did you fight?" Dean asked.

"Uhh, I've killed Gods, this thing called the Grotesquery – a huge hybrid monster surgically made up of various monster body parts and infused with magic," I explained, anticipating Dean's silent question, "And what else? I've fought necromancers, witches... and yetis."

Dean paused, "Yetis?"

"Uh-huh, that about two weeks before I was sent here. One of them tried to eat my head." I nodded.

"What was that like?" Dean chuckled.

"Amazingly not great, their breath was so disgusting." I laughed, shivering at the memory.

"So, what were you doing before you were, uh, 'zapped' over here?" Dean pressed.

"Ummm, well, my partner and I had just defeated this sorcerer who was, like, all-powerful, and my partner and I were just doing the little crimes whilst our government sorted itself out." I shrugged.

"What's wrong with Ireland's government?" Dean frowned.

"What? Oh no, I meant... basically each country has it's own government; the Grand Mage and the two Elders." I explained, "They operate within a Sanctuary, each country has it's own and they keep order in the magical world. The problem was the other countries' governments didn't like how Ireland kept order, and it was all a little tense."

The older Winchester nodded slowly, "I guess that makes sense."

"I hope it does, because I am not explaining it again." I smirked and then frowned, "Someone's coming."

It was true: in the silence the sound of sticks breaking and stones crunching was getting closer, Dean and I stood and readied ourselves for the could-be adversaries. The doors to the cellar slowly opened and a young, plain face peeked through.

"What are you two doing down here?" She asked in a shocked, hushed tone.

"Oh, you know, we hang out in strangers' basements all the time." I drawled sarcastically.

Dean hit me lightly on the shoulder, "You're not helping." He hissed under his breath.

"Neither is she!" I protested.

"How did you get in here?" Emily's frowned deepened, we turned to Emily in confusion.

"You don't know?" Dean asked.

"Why you two are down locked in the basement? Not a clue." The girl shrugged.

"Your whole town is crazy, you know that scarecrow in that orchard? It's the reason why your town is so 'blessed', your town stays perfect all year round, it just requires a little tribute." I explained.

Emily looked at the two of us, puzzled, "Tribute?" She echoed.

"Yeah, and guess who it's gonna be?" Dean replied, walking over to where Emily was stood in the entrance of the cellar.

Emily paled, "What? Then – Then why are you in my aunt and uncle's basement?"

"Well, looks like your aunt and uncle are part of the whole 'lamb to the slaughter' tradition, guess who they lined up for the chop?" Despite the situation, I smirked at the girl's naivety.

"Oh my god." Emily gasped, her eyes widening, her hand gripped a discarded chair with a broken leg.

"Yeah, it's something. But you see: if you were to let us go, we could stop the scarecrow so no one else would have to die, you'd never see us again." Dean reasoned.

"But – my aunt and uncle wouldn't do something like that, they're good people. You – You two must be s-some kind of escaped criminals, or something." Emily shook her head.

Dean and I exchanged a glance, "Believe me, we're innocent. Your aunt and uncle are just crazy pagan worshippers along with the rest of the town." I offered her a small smile but she didn't return it.

"So... you're saying... my aunt and uncle – who I know to be the nicest people in the world by the way, have locked you in the basement and are going to kill you?" Emily spoke slowly, trying to get her head around it.

"Sacrifice us," Dean corrected, then looked at her sympathetically, "You really didn't know anything about this, did you?"

"About what? My adopted parents being psycho killers? The scarecrow? I can't believe this." Emily laughed, although I recognised the hysteria in her eyes: she was going into shock.

"Technically the scarecrow's an ancient pagan God, but yeah, you better start believing. Because we need your help." I replied.

I expected her to run, to back away from us as her wide eyes darted wildly between us. But she didn't, to my surprise she took a deep breath and looked up at us with shining eyes, "Okay." She breathed.

"As Stephanie mentioned earlier, we can destroy the scarecrow. But we have to find the tree." Dean gave the girl a comforting smile.

"What tree?" Emily's voice didn't shake this time when she spoke.

"Uh it would be really old," I shrugged, "The locals would treat it with a lot of respect, you know, like it was sacred."

"There was this one apple tree," Emily frowned as she concentrated, "The immigrants brought it over with them, they call it the First Tree."

"Is it in the orchard?" Dean asked.

Emily opened her mouth to answer, but a faint shout from the distance cut her off: "Emily!" It was Stacy, "Emily honey, where are you?"

Emily panicked, "I shouldn't be here." She whispered, tears beginning to pool at her eyes again.

"It's gonna be fine," I assured her, "Just tell us where the tree is and we can stop this."

"I shouldn't." Emily shook her head.

"Emily? Where did you go? I just put your dinner on the table." Stacy called again, her voice was louder this time, closer.

"The tree, Emily," I whispered urgently, "Where is the tree?" I approached her quickly, outside you could hear the noise of stones skittering across the ground as Stacy came closer.

"I – I don't know," Emily sniffed and looked over her shoulder, "I need to go."

"Wait!" Dean protested, but Emily backed away quickly and closed the doors, I raced over and tried to yank them back open, but Emily bolted it shut and I heard the distinctive click of the lock in the door.

"You little-." My growl was cut off by Dean clamping his hand over my mouth.

"Shhh." He whispered and we listened as Emily and Stacy conversed outside.

"Emily? What are you doing back here?" Stacy asked.

"Oh me? I – I thought I heard some voices near here, so I came over to see what it was." Emily stuttered.

"Well, trust me Emily, there's noone around here but us," Stacy laughed lightly, "Now go on inside, your uncle put your dinner out on the table for you, we have to go out tonight and finish something, but we'll be back before you know it."

"Ok, that sounds great, I'll see you later, auntie." Emily's footsteps faded away, after a few moments the sound of someone else walking away allowed Dean and I to relax.

"We have to get out of here. Now." I said to Dean.

He nodded in agreement, "Before the crazy bitch comes back with the other sacrificial-happy lunatics."

I laughed and then looked around for something, anything that would be sturdy enough to break through the door. After a few minutes of slowly rotating on the spot I suddenly slapped myself on the forehead, "Oh wow." I scolded myself.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"I'm such an idiot. We've been down here for ages," I walked over to the cellar door, "When all we needed to do was-." I snapped my palms out frustrated and slammed the air into the cellar door entrance, the doors shot out, the padlocks and bolts securing it came apart with a loud, whining snap and we were free.

Dean stared at what was left of the doors, "That was-."

"Impressive. We were thinking the same thing." Some shadows stepped out from the darkness outside, I recognised Stacy and Harley, but not the other two.

I sighed and glanced at Dean, "We cannot catch a break today."

"Uh-huh." Dean murmured as Stacy stepped forward.

"It's time." She smiled, I frowned and backed away from the door and stood next to Dean, Stacy's smile widened.

The sheriff and some of his officers had volunteered to secure Dean and I to the trees, I recognised them as the officers who had accompanied the sheriff to kidnap us from the college. The officer whose nose I had broken had insisted on handcuffing me, dashing my dream of clicking my fingers and burning through the ropes they had tied Dean to a tree with. The townspeople had picked a clearing with trees littered one side and a fence on the other, the fence had a wide square mesh for wiring and the had put one side of the handcuff through the wire and locked me in it, disabling me from any means of escaping. "How many people have you killed, Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?" Dean taunted the officer as they finished their handiwork.

"We don't kill them." The sheriff replied in a stiff tone.

"No, but you sure cover up afterwards," I glared up at the sheriff from where I was tied to the fence, "How many cars have you hidden? What about the number of clothes you've probably buried?" The sheriff stared at me for a moment and I held his gaze evenly, he turned away and walked out of the clearing without another word to either myself or Dean. His deputies looked at Dean and us in a wavering alarm, then followed the sheriff from the clearing.

Stacy and Harley were watching Dean and I from a few feet away, "Try to understand – it's our responsibility to protect this town-."

"Oh come on!" I rolled my eyes as I cut Harley off, "So what if, if a few crops die or someone loses their home? It happens to everyone, and you can't stop it."

Harley scoffed and exchanged a glance with Stacy, "Well, Sweetheart, it looks like we can stop it. Didn't your parents ever teach you what sacrifice means? Giving up something for the greater good. We need our town safe, and if you two have to die then so be it." I shot daggers at the couple as they turned and walked away.

"I hope your apple pie is freakin' worth it!" Dean shouted to the couple as the dark enveloped them.

"So, have you got a plan?" I asked, demonstrating how restricted my hands were handcuffed to the fence.

"I'm workin' on it." Dean shrugged.

Dean and I spent the next few hours in silence, I watched the moon as it slowly rose up in the dark night sky as the hours passed, in the distance you could hear the faint rustling of dead leaves from last autumn being moved aside as various woodland creatures slunk through the dark. I yawned and looked at Dean, "How's that plan going?" I asked him, Dean shifted a little and I sighed, "You don't have a plan, do you?"

"I'm working on it," Dean shrugged, his tone defensive, "Can you see?" He suddenly asked.

I frowned in confusion, "What?"

"Is he moving yet?" Dean asked again.

"You're asking if I can see the scarecrow in the dark? No, no I can't see it." I rolled my eyes and sighed in exasperation. Suddenly, the trees to my right rustled and twigs snapped under someone's heavy feet, "Wow, just on time, I guess." I managed a shaky smile at Dean. He started grunting and frowning in concentration as he tried to untie the ropes for the umpteenth time that night, the sounds were coming closer and closer and I found my wrists straining against the cuffs, they were rubbing raw already and the soreness made me wince. A large silhouette stumbled from the undergrowth, in the moonlight I saw the figure tilt his head and hope blossomed up within me: it couldn't be... could it?

"Dean? Stephanie?" I closed my eyes against the sudden plummeting disappointment as I recognised Sam's voice. Hang on a moment? Sam? Sam!

"Oh! Oh, I take everything I said back. I'm so happy to see you!" Dean's sudden joy made me smile as I saw Sam go over to his brother and untie his bonds.

"How'd you get here?" I asked, "Not that I'm happy to see you." I added quickly.

"I, uh – I stole a car." Sam mumbled and I grinned.

"Haha! That's my boy." Dean cried out as he stood up from the tree, free. His happiness out the news of crime was unsettling, Sam and Dean hugged and I smiled: everything was normal again.

"Uh, hello?" I jangled the handcuffs to catch the boys' attention, they broke off and looked at me, "If you boys have quite finished." I drawled, holding up my restricted wrists.

"Oh, sorry, Steph." Sam smiled as he approached me, "What's with the handcuffs anyway?"

"I broke a guy's nose earlier, and he insisted that I be cuffed to the fence," I shrugged, "These things hurt like a bitch." I complained, Sam chuckled and crouched down, producing his lockpicks from his pocket.

"Hold still." He ordered, I didn't move a muscle whilst Sam worked on opening the lock, I didn't even breathe to assure his focus. When the cuffs fell free I sighed gratefully and rubbed my red wrists as I stood up, "Oh, and we might wanna keep an eye on that scarecrow – he could come alive any minute." I added.

"What scarecrow?" Sam asked, I looked up and shared an alarmed glance with Dean.

"Torch." I held my hand out to Sam, the younger Winchester fumbled around in his pockets and eventually handed me it, I flicked it on and shone it over where the scarecrow was situated, the beam hit the empty post. "Oh, for God's sake." I closed my eyes and rubbed my eyes tiredly, "This is not our day."

Dean, Sam and I were jogging past the trees, trying to find our way out of the maze of fruit trees as the sky lightened to a pale blue as the morning sun began to emerge. "Alright, now, this sacred tree you're both talking about-." Sam started.

"It's the source of it's power." Dean answered, anticipating his brother's question.

"We need to find it and burn it." I said.

"Nah, in the morning. Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up." Dean shook his head, we turned and reached a clearing, a large mob of townspeople with Stacy and Harley at the front.

"Uh, wrong turn – this way." I smiled and we turned to find all the exits blocked off by the town, I waved to the officer with the broken nose, he responded by pulling out his gun and checking the chamber, "How about we come to a compromise?" I offered, turning to Stacy and Harley.

"It'll be over quickly, I promise." Harley assured me.

"You're crazy," I realised, glancing at the townspeople, "You're all crazy."

"Listen, you have to let him take you. You have to-."

"We'll pass." I smiled and grabbed they boys' arms, I half-dragged them towards the main crowd and, "Move!" I screamed at them. The alarmed crowd fidgeted a little as the three of us ran at full pelt towards them, Harley and Stacy stood still with their heads held high, a challenge burned in their eyes as we got closer. At the last moment the mob dived out the way to avoid collision with us, we passed by and I grinned: finally something when right today. Someone roughly grabbed my wrist and I cried out as I was yanked back, my sore wrist screamed in protest against the sudden pressure.

I turned to see my attacker and came face to face with Harley, I tried to wrench my arm away but I couldn't free myself from his surprisingly iron grip. Plan B, I guess. I reached up with my left hand and jabbed him twice in the throat, Harley coughed and the grip was gone. I rubbed my wrist and noticed the lack of ring on my finger, I missed it, and I wanted it back. I knew I should've stopped, but something else was telling me different.

They took your ring. They need to be punished.

As Harley recovered I approached him with slow, meaningful steps. When he stopped spluttering he turned around to meet my palm smashing into his face, there was a crunch and Harley screamed, blood pumped from his nose and he fell back. I smiled and advanced, kicking the back of Harley's knee, it buckled and he went down, I stood over him as the ageing man wailed.

Do it. Kill him.

I knelt down, from a little way away someone was calling my name, "Steph? Stephanie! What are you doing?" It was Dean, a part of me wanted to look around, but another part of me wanted payback.

And that part was stronger.

Someone gave a loud, banshee-like screech and shoved me, the quick part of my brain reacted and I rolled and came up. Stacy had a long, wicked blade gripped in her right hand, it glinted menacingly in the early morning light as she stalked towards me, the townspeople had formed a tight-knit circle around us, as Stacy and I circled eachother I glimpsed Sam and Dean looking at me with shocked expressions. I smiled menacingly at Stacy and lunged quickly, my hands lashing out like snakes as one hand wrapped around her throat and the other hand on the hilt of the knife.

That's it. Just take the knife and kill the old lady. Do it. Do it now. Now.

There was a headache pounding away in my temples as I struggled with Stacy, she staggered, unbalanced and pulled me to the floor with her, she wrenched away from my choking grip and bought her other hand up to try and claw my eyes out. I flinched back and we suddenly rolled, she landed on top and used both hands to tear the blade away from me. Her green eyes were bright with murderous rage as she held the knife above my head, ready to furiously bring it down for the killing blow.

And then she bought it down.

You need to move. Now.

At the last moment I raised my pelvis and threw Stacy off balance, I wriggled and got out from under her and jumped up, she got up with me and I met her jaw with a vicious punch; not enough to knock her unconscious, but enough to give the brain a little shake to disorientate it. There was a sickening sound behind us and the crowd screamed, I turned to see the scarecrow with his bloodied sickle poking out through a dead Harley's chest, Stacy let out a broken cry of anguish and leapt at me, I cried out in surprise and felt a surge of anger and threw her off, shoving her into the arms of the scarecrow. The crowd fell into a terrified silence and the scarecrow gripped Stacy as he slowly pulled his long, nefarious blade from Harley's corpse. Harley dropped to the floor like a puppet with it's strings cuts, the crowd dispersed and ran as the scarecrow raised the blade above Stacy's head. I stood, frozen, as the blade came down and claimed Stacy's head in one smooth motion, the scarecrow let go of Stacy's body and it dropped, landing next to her husbands. Stacy's head, however, tumbled and rolled to a stop less than a metre away from me, I stared at the finely severed neck wound and found I couldn't draw my gaze. Someone gently grabbed me and pulled me into a tight embrace, one hand around my waist and the other stroking my head, "Come on, Steph, let's get outta here." It was Dean again, I blinked slowly and looked up at him.

"I didn't mean to shove her that way," I whispered, "I-."

"Shhhh," Dean hushed me, "It's ok. But we need to leave." He held me close as he guided me away, the scarecrow had long since disappeared, as had the townspeople. When we reached the single road there was a lone car parked, Sam delved into his pocket and pulled out some car keys, as he unlocked the car Dean gently led me over to the vehicle and opened the door. I felt so... detached, like my body was just going through the motions, operating on autopilot whilst my brain floated in a very confused and lethargic fog. Once everyone was in the car and the doors were closed, Sam and Dean turned round to look at me.

"Steph?" Sam asked in a cautious tone.

"Mmm?" I responded, staring straight ahead of me.

"Are you, uh, are you ok?" He continued, I sighed and focused on him.

"I'm fine." I managed a small smile, hoping they boys would believe it.

The brother glanced at eachother, "Well... If you say so." Dean said in a hedged tone.

"Can we destroy the tree later? I just wanna get a few hours before coming back here." I asked.

"Yeah, we'll book into somewhere in the next town over and come back tomorrow." Sam nodded and started the engine, I didn't look back at the orchard as we drove away quickly.

We arrived at the orchard in the morning, but the sun was well in the sky as the three of us finally stumbled upon familiar surroundings. "This looks sort of familiar." I mumbled as we walked passed the fruit trees. We rounded a corner and I stopped short; a few metres away was the scarecrow, on it's post like traditional scarecrows were. But this wasn't a traditional scarecrow. The three of us approached it slowly, ready to run if the scarecrow so much as lifted a leather-clad finger, when we were a few steps away we stopped and stared at the scarecrow.

"I'm bettin' if the sarecrow's here, then the tree must be around here somewhere. Let's keep looking." Dean suggested, the brother's walked away whilst I looked intently at the monster, my eyes fell to it's sickle and my heart lurched when I saw it was still stained with a dark crimson.

Well, we know who's blood that is.

"Come on, Steph, let's get away from here." Dean walked back over to me, I turned to him and nodded, "Sam thinks he's found the tree over here." He continued, sending me a bright smile as he led me away from the post.

We found Sam stood next to the tree Sam thought was the right one, it was notably larger than any of the other trees, and stood proudly amidst them all, upon closer inspection there was a carving marked onto the trunk, I recognised it as the same design that was on the scarecrow's arm.

"Hand me the gasoline, Dean." Sam held his hand out while I traced my finger lightly over the engraving. Dean unzipped the duffel bag he had slung over his shoulder and rifled through it until he found what he wanted, he threw it to Sam and I stood back whilst he doused the trunk and some branches with the petrol, once he was done he threw the can aside and I clicked my fingers, summoning a bright flame in my palm. I aimed carefully and threw the fireball at the tree, it hit the trunk and caught aflame instantly, I stepped back ad found Dean's hand as the three of us watched it go up in flames.

"I'll just be two minutes, I need to get something of mine." I called back to the boys, I'd convinced them to stay in the car, but as I was roaming the empty halls of the local college I found myself wondering why I'd asked them to stay in the car in the first place.

Because I wanted you to.

I sighed and rubbed my temple where a headache was forming, and pushed open the door that I wanted. The college professor was sat at his desk, pouring over a large, thick book on top of the desk. I walked up to the desk quickly, careful to keep my footsteps silent. When I reached the desk I pushed over the pencil pot, the stationary spilled out and clattered to the floor. The professor jumped and looked up from the book he was reading. "It's – it's you!" He exclaimed, standing up so quickly his chair shot out from under him.

"You remember me, that's good." I nodded and gave him a calculating smile.

"L-look, I didn't sell you out – it wasn't me, I swear!" He cried.

I rolled my eyes and sighed, "Look, I don't care what you did. I just want what you stole from me."

"Stole, stole what?" The professor stuttered.

"You know what, and I want it back." I narrowed my eyes.

"I – I don't know what you're talking about." The man looked at me with wide, fearful eyes.

"Right, I'll clear it up for you, shall I? My ring that you were so interested in, you stole it from me." I glared at him, raising my voice over the pounding in my head.

"I, uh-."

"Look," I leaned in over the desk, "I'm stronger than you, and I have every intention of hitting you over my ring." I whispered.

The professor paled, "I – I think I have seen it around here somewhere." He edged around the desk carefully and walked over to the cupboards on the far side of the room. He opened a draw and moved some contents around inside it and eventually brought out a small box.

"Give it." I held my hand out impatiently as I walked over to the cowering man.

"You know I was only keeping it for, ah, safe keeping." The professor smiled weakly.

"Stop talking." I rolled my eyes and snatched the box from his sweating grip, I sighed as I opened it and slipped the ring on, smiling a secret smile as I felt the welcoming chill of the necromancy magic. "Do you have any idea how precious this ring is to me?" I whispered, looking up at the professor under my thick lashes.

"No, it just – it just interested me, that's all." The professor shrugged.

Do it.

"Without this, I couldn't do this." I caught the shadows from the room and they swung up and slashed across the professor's torso. The professor screamed in pain, I staggered away and clutched my head as the pounding in my head got so loud it seemed like my head was about to explode. I took one more breathe and when I exhaled, I wasn't me.

Darquesse smiled when the dropped to the floor, blood pooled out on the floor and Darquesse's smile widened and she stretched, enjoying the freedom from being locked away in Valkyrie's head – or Stephanie, as she went by these days. She looked down at the man and watched in fascination as his life slowly bled out of him onto the floor, out of boredom she waved her hand and a sharpened shadow opened up his throat. He died choking on his own life-force. Without another look at the professor's fresh corpse, Darquesse turned and exited the classroom, shutting the door behind her. She smiled as she looked out the window's of the college: a new reality – just waiting to be completely obliterated. Darquesse sighed when she thought of the Winchesters, she couldn't decide whether they were convenient for her to keep around or not. "Steph?" Someone was calling her name, or at least, her old name, "Come on, Steph, this isn't the time for hide and seek." Darquesse smirked when she recognised the voice as Dean, Valkyrie's - or Stephanie as she went by these days – new love interest. Darquesse could see the appeal of course, but she knew that she would be the one to most likely kill him and his brother. Not now, but in the long run – when she had her plans straight and her options open: it couldn't hurt to allow Valkyrie be her pretend self for a little while more. Sam seemed different to Dean though, apparently having unusual psychic dreams that come true. Darquesse knew she'd have to keep an eye on the younger Winchester, in case he proved to be a threat to her. Footsteps entered the hallway and Darquesse exhaled and drifted away.

I blinked and frowned: how did I get to the window? I turned and was met with Dean, he had that smirk on his face and I pulled him into a tight hug. "What's this for?" Dean chuckled as he hugged me back.

"Nothing, really. Just feeling better." I answered, it was true: that headache I had been experiencing over the past few days had gone, and I welcomed the rare peace in my head for once.

"Well, that's great. But we wanna get going, so..." Dean trailed off and I looked up at him and nodded.

"Then let's get going, I'm so done with this pagan loving town anyway." I let go of him and he took my hand, we exited the college and I squinted in the bright sunlight and grinned when I spotted Sam leaning against Dean's car.

"Hey, do you think Emily's gonna be alright?" Dean wondered as we approached his brother.

I shrugged, "I know she lost her crazy aunt and uncle, and they were the only parental figures she had – but she didn't let us out when we asked, so I can only be so sympathetic."

"Fair enough." Dean nodded, we stopped in front of Sam and I pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I missed you too, Steph." Sam chuckled and patted me on the back.

I laughed, "You know how much I hate hugs, Sam Winchester, so shut up and hug me."

"What? You literally just hugged me like, two minutes ago!" Dean protested from beside us.

"Yeah, but you're the exception." I rolled my eyes and scoffed, stepping out of the hug with Sam.

"You know you guys are forgetting something." Sam said, changing the subject.

"Forgetting what?" Dean frowned.

"The rest of the townspeople – they'll just get away with what they've been doing." The younger Winchester pointed out.

Dean and I exchanged a glance, "Well, what'll happen to the town will be punishment enough," Dean concluded and I nodded in agreement, "So, can I drop you off somewhere?" He asked his brother.

"What?! You're not leaving us again are you?" I demanded, looking at Sam with wide eyes.

Sam put his hands in his pockets, "Steph, it's fine. I think you're both stuck with me, actually."

I relaxed whilst Dean cocked his head, "What made you change your mind?" He asked.

"I didn't," Sam shook his head, "I still wanna find Dad, and you're still a pain in the ass." A smile played at the corners of his mouth at his comment, "But, Jess and Mum – they're both gone. Dad is God knows where and you, me and Steph? We're all that's left. So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together." He finished solemnly.

Dean and I paused and looked at eachother, the Dean reached out and wrapped his arms around his brother, "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful." He gushed, Sam shoved him away and we all laughed.

"Hey! You both should be kissing my ass. You were dead meat, guys." Sam smirked.

"Yeah, right. I had a plan – I'd have gotten out." I rolled my eyes scoffed.

"Steph, you were handcuffed to a fence. You weren't going anywhere." Sam raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"You doubt my skill?" I mocked.

The boys looked at eachother, "Yep." They both said.

"What-ever," I frowned and crossed my arms, "Just get your ass in the car. Both of you."

Author's Note: I'm sorry for the late update, I've had applications and open evenings to sort out and I've spent most of my time improving my CV and revising for mocks and exams. My life, as you can probably tell, is beyond fun. Ok, so I'm gonna update when I get ten more reviews, I promise I will try and keep on track this time!