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?

18. Chapter 18

Winchester and Cain

Chapter 18 – Something Wicked

Author's Note: Hey guys, what's up? I'd just like to warn you all that I knew I wasn't gonna be feeling this episode when I started through Season 1, so this is probably gonna be a chapter I'll have to plough through.

Valkyrie's P.O.V

It was hot. Everything was starting to burn. I was on the floor of the ancient Mordechai house, unable to move. Everything was dark, the only light was coming from the roaring flames. Over the noise of the crackling, untamed fire, I could hear the thudding noise of old leather on older wooden floor. I blinked and saw the pale, haunted face of Mordechai Murdoch, a deep ridged scar lay waste from his lower lip up his cheek and curling on the side of his forehead. My eyes trailed down and I saw a huge, gaping wound in his chest, the almost ridiculously big axe was gripped in his huge left hand, dark liquid dripped from it and lazily fell to the floor. Then, he raised it above his head and drove it down-

I gasped and sat up in my seat, clutching my chest. "Jesus!" Dean swerved the car, the tires screeched in protest at the sudden manoeuvre. "Goddammit, Steph." The older Winchester sighed as he kept driving, his eyes on mine in the rearview mirror. I didn't bother replying and threw my head back into the headrest, trying to get control of my breathing and waiting for my heart to steady itself. Dean tore his eyes from the world and spared a glance at me, "Again?" He asked. I didn't meet his gaze and stayed quiet, but apparently my silence was the answer he needed, Dean rubbed his temple and shook his head, "Stephanie, this has got to stop."

I nodded, "I know." I said quietly.

"I mean," Dean continued as if he hadn't heard me, "It's been three weeks, you haven't slept well since, you're living off coffee and-"

"I said I know," I said sharply, narrowing my eyes at the older Winchester, "I know I don't sleep well, I know it's been three weeks. I am handling it, ok?" Dean didn't reply and I softened, feeling my anger evaporate, "I'm sorry for snapping, I don't know what's wrong with me." I murmured, looking down at my hands – they'd started shaking for small periods of time lately, and they were shaking now.

"Forget it." Dean shrugged. But I knew he hadn't – and he wasn't going to soon, either.

Sam had stayed quiet during the whole exchange, but he turned round as soon as Dean made it clear he wasn't going to be talking for a while, "We'll get some coffee at the next stop, ok Steph?" He gave me this smile that had started to look different recently, and the more I caught myself liking it the more guilty I became.

"Thanks, Sam." I muttered, keeping my gaze fixed on the door handle of the car.

"Speaking of stops," Sam turned to his brother, "Are you sure you got the coordinates right on this location?"

"Yeah, Steph and I double checked before we left this morning. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin," Dean glanced at his brother, "Dad wouldn't have sent us the coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy."

I didn't know if it was the effect of being stuck in the car or the lack of sleep, but as I leant my hand against my head as a headache began forming. Meanwhile, in the front of the car, Sam was scowling at his brother, "Well I'm telling you I looked and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something I don't know what it is."

I blinked and lifted my head up, "Maybe your Dad's gonna meet us there." I suggested, injecting hope into my tone.

"Oh come on, 'cause he's been so easy to find up to this point." Sam rolled his eyes as he drawled.

"You're a real smart-ass, you know that?" Dean smirked, "Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing." He assured.

"Yeah?" Sam challenged, "What makes you so sure?"

Dean glanced at his brother like it was obvious, "'Cause I'm the oldest. Which means I'm always right." He said matter-of-factly.

The younger Winchester scoffed and gave his brother a bitchy look, "No it doesn't!" He protested.

I rolled my eyes at their squabbling, too drained to find it enjoyable today, whilst at the front Dean was grinning to himself whilst Sam was staring out the window, frustration reflecting in his eyes. I made a face at the pain in my temples and closed my eyes, drifting off into an uneasy sleep.

T

Grey smoke slowly rose from the burning house up to the night sky, I walked along the dew-covered grass silently, relishing in the cool night air and the simplicity of the shining stars. I felt someone approach behind me, but I didn't bother turning around. "It's you, isn't it?"

"Steph? Steph!" Someone was shaking me, my eyes snapped open and I instantly gripped the hand on my shoulder and wrenched it off, "Woah, ow! Hey!" I recoiled when I saw Dean, my eyes widened and I ran a hand through my hair.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, Dean!" I stammered, suddenly feeling cramped up in the car and opened the door and scrambled out. We were parked on a street outside a diner called Glaslow's Diner, I breathed slowly and ran a hand through my hair as Dean got out of the car too, Sam was nowhere in sight.

"It's fine," Dean sighed and looked away, "Sam's gone to get us some coffee." I nodded quietly, too tired to reply, "Steph, are you feeling ok? Like, when was the last time you ate?" Dean asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I reached in through the open car window and retrieved my discarded jacket, frowning as I thought about Dean's question. I finally answered his query with a shrug as I reached into the pocket and retrieved my hair tie. "Mmm, a day or two?" I guessed as I tied my hair back into a ponytail.

Dean walked over to me and placed his hands on my waist, "Ok, ok, after Sam comes back we'll go to a store and pick up some food, sound good?"

I nodded and Dean kissed me tenderly, "You're gonna be fine. I love you." He breathed, the words brushing on my cheek.

I blinked, "I love you too." I edged a smile, feeling like my reply was a little forced.

"Well I asked the waitress, and she says that no one's heard about anything freaky going on." Sam interrupted us and we stepped apart. The younger Winchester approached us with a cheery smile and a coffee holder filled with three take-away cups. Dean and I grabbed one each and started drinking.

I let my eyes wander as I drank tilted my head when I noticed something, "Hey, anyone got the time?"

"Uhh," Sam looked at his watch, "Ten after Four. Why?"

I gestured for them, "What's wrong with this picture?"

The boys turned their attention to a playground I had noticed, nothing was wrong with it, apart from the fact that it had been completely and utterly deserted. "School's out, isn't it?" Dean frowned.

"Yeah. So where is everybody?" I arched an eyebrow.

"Steph's right. This place should be crawling with kids right now." Sam looked confused. A woman suddenly walked over near the park and sat on a bench overlooking the barren recreation ground, Dean looked at us and gave us a shrug before walking over to her.

"Sure is quiet out here." Dean gave the woman an open, friendly smile.

The woman looked up at him and nodded, "Yeah, it's a shame."

"Do you know why it's like this?" The older Winchester asked innocently.

"The local kids are getting sick, it's a terrible thing." A doleful expression suddenly appeared on the woman's face.

Dean looked concerned, "How many?"

"Just five or six -but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious, they think it's catching." The lady continued.

Dean nodded thoughtfully and looked back at us, giving us a silent look.

T

The three of us entered the local hospital in our FBI getups, Dean handed us the IDs he had made especially for this, as we were walking down the hall Sam frowned down at his ID, "Dude. Dude, I am not using this ID." He said quickly as we walked.

I frowned at him, "Why not?"

The younger Winchester sighed and showed it to me, "Because it says bikini inspector on it!" He glared at his brother.

I bit my lip and tried not to laugh as we passed a couple of nurses. Beside me, Dean was grinning, "Don't worry, the receptionist won't look that close alright? Hell, she won't even ask to see it," I noticed we were nearing the reception desk, but Sam was still facing Dean and I nervously, "It's all about confidence, Sammy." Dean patted his brother's shoulder and suddenly spun him around.

The younger Winchester stumbled nervously and the receptionist peered up at him, "Hi," Sam smiled openly, "I'm Doctor Jerry Caplin, from Centres for Disease Control." He introduced himself confidently.

The young woman tilted her head, "Can I see some ID?"

Dean sniggered from where we were stood a little further down the hallway, I shh'd him with a smile tugging on my lips, Sam shot us a scorching glare and turned back to the receptionist with a smile, "Yeah, of course." He quickly reached into his blazer and flashed the ID, his fingers covering the picture. The receptionist frowned when Sam quickly put it away, "Now could you direct me to the paediatrics ward please?"

The woman paused, then pointed down the hallway, "Ok well, just go down that hall, turn left and up the stairs." She directed, Sam nodded and turned to us.

Dean grinned as his brother sauntered back over to us with a sour look, "See, Sam? I told you it would work."

Sam sighed as he looked from Dean to me, "Follow me. It's upstairs." He said quietly, leading us around the corner and up the stairs.

We were walking down yet another all-white hallway that had an overpowering smell of disinfectant that stung my nose when my eyes wandered to an open door. I slowed down and looked around, when I was satisfied that the coast was clear I pressed my palm against the white door and pushed gently. The door opened silently and I peered into the dark room, the curtains were closed and there were no lights on, a woman with matted grey hair was sat in a wheelchair with her back to me, behind her on the wall was an upside down cross. Slowly – and super creepily, the woman slowly turned to face me, the dark gave her face a more haggard quality, even though she really didn't need the disturbing lighting. I stared at the woman, narrowing my eyes as I glanced at the inverted cross and mulling over a decision.

Go on. Kill her – just in case, right?

"Steph!" Dean hissed, I turned and saw he was a few feet away with his hand out to me. I mentally shook myself of that thought and quickly walked away from the open doorway, trying to leave what had just crossed my mind behind. I took Dean's hand and gave him a smile as he led me around the corner, we let each other go as we neared Sam and a man in a doctor's coat.

"Well, my colleagues and I would firstly like to thank you for seeing us, Dr. Heidecker." Sam was saying as we stepped into earshot.

"I'm glad you three are here, I was just about to call the CDC myself. How'd you find out anyway?" The doctor replied, giving the three of us a questioning look.

Dean waved his hand dismissively, "Oh some GP, I forget his name. He called Atlanta and, uh, he must've beat you to the punch."

"We've heard you've got six cases so far?" I inquired in a professional tone.

The doctor nodded, "Yeah, five weeks. At first we thought it was a garden variety bacterial pneumonia – not that newsworthy, but now..."

Sam tilted his head, "Now what?"

"The kids aren't responding to any antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down and their immune systems just aren't doing their job," Dr. Heidecker sighed and stared off at a point on Sam's arm, "It's like their bodies are... wearing out."

Dean shot me a glance as a nurse approached and tapped the doctor on his shoulder, "Excuse me, Dr. Heidecker?" She held up a clipboard with forms on them and the doctor took them and began signing them.

"Tell me, Doc; you ever seen anything like this before?" Dean asked as Dr. Heidecker hastily scrawled the pen over the forms.

Dr. Heidecker shook his head without looking up, "Never this severe." He answered as he turned the page.

The nurse suddenly looked up at us, "And the way it spreads... that's a new one for me." She supplied, trying to be helpful.

I tilted my head, "What do you mean?"

The nurse shrugged, "It works it's way through families – but only the children. One sibling after another."

"Huh," Dean shot a glance at Sam and I, "Do you mind if we interview a few of the kids?"

"They're not conscious." The nurse shook her head.

I raised an eyebrow, "None of them?"

"No."

"I don't suppose we could, uh, talk to the parents?" Sam tried.

The nurse shrugged, "Well, if you think it'll help."

"Great," Dean cracked into a smile, "Can you tell us who your most recent admission was?"

T

We found the father of the latest victim, Mary Sylver, downstairs in the hospital waiting room. Nathan Sylver was sat on a chair in the corner with several empty cardboard coffee cups taking over the magazine table beside him. "Mr Sylver?" I asked politely as we neared him, the man looked up at us as we approached.

"Yeah?"

"We're from the CDC, and we were wondering if you could answer a few questions for us." I explained as I smoothed down my black dress and took a seat opposite him.

"I should get back to my girls." Nathan said, sitting up a little and narrowing his eyes at us wearily.

"We understand that," Sam said earnestly as he and Dean took a seat either side of me, "And we'd really appreciate you talking to us. Now, according to her records, Mary's your oldest?"

Mr Sylver sat back in his chair and nodded, suddenly looking bedraggled and exhausted, "She's thirteen."

"Ok," Sam nodded gently, "And she came down with it first, right? And then..."

"Bethany," Nathan answered rubbing the rough, unkempt stubble on his face, "The next night."

I leant forward, my hands clasped on my lap, "Within twenty-four hours?"

The man shrugged, "I guess. Look, I, uh, I already went through all this with the doctor." He looked like he wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else.

"Just a few more questions if you don't mind," Dean said quickly, "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold, anything like that?"

"No," Nathan shook his head, "We think it was an open window."

I tilted my head, "Both times?"

The man stared at me for a long moment before he shook his head, "The first time, I – I don't really remember... but the second time for sure, and I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed." He replied.

"So you think she opened it?" Sam asked.

Mr Sylver nodded, albeit reluctantly, "It's a second story window with a ledge. No one else could have."

T

Back at the motel room, Dean and I were getting changed out of our FBI outfits, whilst Sam had gone out to get us lunch, "You know," I said as I struggled with the zipper on my dress, "All this... it might just be pneumonia." I paused as I quietly wrestled with myself, crying out as I suddenly fell backwards and sprawled onto the floor, "Oww." I groaned, staring up at the ugly ceiling.

Dean gave me a smile as he helped me up, "Here." He pulled me close into him, I froze as his warm breath tickled in my ear. Fingers lightly brushed against my back as Dean's hand moved up my back, it was silent except from the sound of Dean pulling down my zipper slowly, far too slowly. I stepped out of the dress and kicked it to one side carelessly, shimmying out of my tights as Dean pulled off his shirt, revealing a very toned chest.

My fingers traced lightly up his chest as I looked deep into his very green eyes, my skin barely touching his, teasing him. After a while Dean snaked his fingers through my hair and his lips met mine, we kissed and nothing seemed to matter. All my conflicting thoughts that I'd been having seemed to lift off my shoulders as we moved backwards until we hit the bed. Dean lifted me up and placed me gently upon it, then we finally broke apart gasping. "God I hope Sam doesn't walk in." I joked breathlessly.

Dean grinned as he climbed on top of me, "Ssh." He whispered, putting a finger on my lips as he moved his mouth to my neck.

T

"Stephanie's head?" I stepped towards him, closing the distance between the younger Winchester and myself, "Oh Sam, Stephanie's head is a dark and awful place," I breathed, cocking my head to the left as I stared deep into his gorgeous eyes, "It's not fun to be in there for such a long time, it can turn anyone insane." I smiled and loped my arms around his neck. Those gorgeous brown eyes narrowed as Sam stiffened, but eventually he relaxed, "And here we are Sam, you and me..." I kept my tone delicate as it trailed off and I looked at his lips. Seconds lazily dragged themselves by until Sam and I were kissing, lips coming together until eventually I allowed myself to be tackled to the floor...

"Steph!" A muffled, faraway voice suddenly sounded.

Eventually we parted and I reached up and rested a finger on my lips, smirking a little as I looked up at Sam from beneath my lashes. With concentration, I focused on Stephanie in the deeper parts of my mind and drifted away, like the mist that used to blanket the sea in Haggard in the early autumn mornings.

"Stephanie!" Someone was shaking me awake, I gasped and opened my eyes, sitting up quickly. I expected to be met with Dean, so when I sat up in the bed, and the thin sheet fell down to reveal my naked bodice I didn't expect Sam to be stood there.

"Sam? Oh my god!" I grabbed at the sheets to cover myself.

"I'm not looking!" Sam said quickly in an oddly high pitched voice, covering his eyes with one of his hands.

Once I'd tied the sheet around myself I looked up at him, "You can look now." I told him as I ran a hand through my hair, it had become tangled and wild – probably from earlier with Dean. Sam peeked through his fingers carefully before he removed his hand away from his face, his cheeks were a little pink from embarrassment but his eyes looked serious. "Where's Dean?" I asked.

"He's in the shower." Sam replied, I nodded and rubbed my eyes, feeling a little worn down by the scenes that kept running through my mind. "Steph... is everything ok?" The younger Winchester asked, his tone a little awkward.

I stared at him for a long time before sighing, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just need to force myself up and get some coffee." I replied with a tired smile, lazily holding my hand out in the direction of the shirt Dean had discarded earlier, it was his FBI shirt, but I wasn't worried. I glanced at Sam and realised I was too tired, too worn down to care whether he'd see my chest or not. I let the covers fall down and pool on my lap as I slipped the shirt on as quickly as possible, clearing my throat as I got off the bed and passed Sam to get to the kitchenette.

"Do you want coffee?" I asked in an uncharacteristically empty tone as I busied myself with the kettle.

"No thanks." Sam replied. Even though I had my back to him, I sensed he had more to say to me. "Hey, can we talk?"

I didn't reply as the kettle finished boiling, I stayed silent still as I poured the hot water into a cup with instant coffee in it. We didn't have any milk or sugar to sweeten it, but the taste matched the bitter mood I was in from my recent haunted slumbers. I sipped at the drink and sighed at the taste, coffee was the closest I'd come to food in days. I hadn't eaten for nearly a week, and I expected to be starving but, much to my surprise, I hadn't felt any desire to eat at all. "What do you want to talk about, Sam?" I asked in a distant tone as I studied the ring on my finger, it was a simple black band, but the way it looked in the light – as if it had some sort of smoke swirling around in it, was interesting to watch.

"It's about that night," I allowed no expression to enter my face as Sam studied me carefully, he glanced at the bathroom door and stepped closer to me, "When we were out on the lawn and we-"

"That wasn't supposed to happen." I interrupted quickly, keeping my voice low.

"Well it did, Steph," Sam replied in a tone sharper than the one I was accustomed to, "And I can't get it out of my head."

"Sam," I sighed and put my coffee mug down on the nearest flat surface, "You have to understand, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but it wasn't me! Not really..." I trailed off, the doubt and confusion I had been feeling for the past few weeks was rushing back up again. I went to turn away but Sam grabbed my wrists, halting me in my tracks, "Sam, come on."

"Steph." Sam replied, putting emphasis on my name, "I can't, ok? I can't get it out of my head. And I know this thing that we have? It's more than platonic. I know you feel something between us too." The younger Winchester insisted, his eyes boring into mine as he towered over me.

I blinked and shook myself out of his grip, "Stop it, Sam. Just stop right there, ok? Didn't anyone ever tell you that cheaters never prosper?" I hissed.

Sam rolled his eyes and I jumped back as the bathroom door opened and Dean emerged in a towel, he paused and looked between the two of us, his eyes narrowing, "What did I miss?" He asked.

I picked up my coffee cup and walked over to him with a smile, "Oh nothing," I lied, "Just some idle chit chat." I gave him a short, brief kiss.

Dean tilted his head when we parted, a smirk curving his lips, "Oh yeah? Anything interesting?"

I shrugged and shook my head, "Nothing worth repeating." I replied, taking a sip of my coffee.

Dean frowned at my cup, "What's with the caffeine? It's like 3pm."

I rolled my eyes, "It's just a little boost, nothing to worry about." I assured him.

Dean didn't look convinced, "A boost, huh? Steph, I left you asleep on the bed, you were out like a damn light. Surely you don't need coffee too?"

I pouted, "Don't judge me!" I went to take another sip, but Dean slipped his hand around the mug and pried it away from me, "Hey!" I protested.

"No, no, no. No more coffee for you, ok? Your sleeping schedule's already outta whack." Dean said as he moved to the sink and poured the drink down the drain. I visibly drooped and ran a hand through my hair, Dean set the cup on the counter and walked back over to me, "What you're having before you do anything else is some food. Sam brought lunch back with him earlier, we left some for you." He gently took hold of my shoulders and guided me to sit on the sofa.

"You're coddling me." I mumbled half-heartedly as I tugged at his shirt that enveloped my frame.

"I'm not, I'm just making sure you're strong enough for the case, ok?" Dean replied as Sam started serving me some food on a plate from one of the cupboards.

I rolled my eyes at him as Sam sat the plate before me, it was nothing special – just half a grilled chicken burger and some salad. "Thanks, Sam." I murmured and picked at the food half-heartedly, mainly moving it around on my plate and taking the occasional bite to satisfy Dean. Once I'd had enough I pushed the plate away from me and stood up from the chair. "I've had enough," I announced, moving towards the bathroom, picking up my tunic and trousers as I did so. "I'll be ten minutes, then we'll go, ok?"

T

Dean drove us straight over to the Sylver household, Sam picked the lock on the front door and we were inside within minutes. As Dean had predicted, Nathan Sylver hadn't returned home for the evening, instead opting to stay in the hospital with his sick children.

Upstairs, in Mary's bedroom, the three of us were scouring the room from top to bottom looking for clues for what could be attacking the children. Sam was on one end of the room whilst Dean was on the other, I was laying on the floor looking under the bed.

"You'd be surprised how many people don't check under a bed these days." I'd responded automatically to the boys' comments about my choice of search. Although they weren't my words: Skulduggery had said something similar to me when I had first met him, and I'd never forgotten it.

As I stared at the far bed post, my mind wandered to my old reality, musing on what everyone must be doing right now. Was time different over there? Had Skulduggery moved on? Had he replaced me? And what about Mum and Dad – did they have any idea that I had gone, and were they starting to realise that my reflection wasn't me? My heart twinged in my chest a little at this.

Probably not...

"Oh shut up." I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes to myself as I got to my feet.

"How was it down there?" Dean shot me an amused grin.

I shrugged, "Nothing is, or ever was, under the bed."

Sam scoffed, "Well, it was a long shot." He murmured, I raised an eyebrow at him.

Ouch

"Come on then, Sam," I narrowed my eyes at him challengingly, "Did you find anything over there?"

The younger Winchester shook his head, "Not over here per se, but Dean was right about something."

His brother frowned, "What?"

Sam gestured to the window sill, "I don't think it's pneumonia." Dean and I exchanged a frown and approached the window. The white sill looked fine, but on the left hand side there was a dark handprint branded into the wood, the wood had rotted in it's place, creating a brilliant contrast against the perfect eggshell white.

I looked up at the boys, "It's rotted for sure, do you know anything that leaves a handprint like that?" I asked. Sam shrugged, but Dean didn't respond, he was still staring at the print on the sill but he had a distant look in his gaze. "Dean?" I tapped his shoulder lightly.

Dean finally looked up at Sam and I, his face a little pale, "I know why Dad sent us here," He glanced back at the sill, "He's faced this thing before. And I think he wants us to finish the job." He swallowed, looking regretful.

T

The sky was gradually getting darker by the time we pulled up outside of the motel we were staying at, "So tell us Dean," I said as we all got out of the car, "What exactly is a Shtriga?"

"It's," Dean paused and ran a hand through his hair, "It's kinda like a witch, I think. I don't know much about them." He confessed with a shrug.

"Well I've never heard of it. And it's not in Dad's journal, either." Sam replied, the three of us grouped together before we entered the motel.

"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about... sixteen maybe seventeen years ago. You were there, don't you remember?" Dean looked at his brother quizzically.

Sam gave Dean a deadpan stare, "No."

I elbowed Dean in his side lightly and gave him a look, since we had run into John a few weeks ago I felt I understood Sam better now: he clearly had a damaged relationship with his one living parent – one that his older brother didn't seem to get. After cutting Dean off I looked past him and at Sam, "Maybe he just saw that there was a case here and he's just tipping us the coordinates." I suggested in a light tone, trying to ease the tension.

"Yeah, maybe..." Sam trailed off and looked down at his feet, I suddenly realised we had stopped walking and we were waiting outside the door of the motel. I pushed the door open and we entered into the lobby as quietly as possible, the man at the desk walked over to us as soon as he set his sights on us. He was a short, portly kind of man, with balding dirty white hair on top of a pudgy, lined face.

"Hey, you the three in room 19?" The clerk asked.

"That's us," I nodded, forcing a smile onto my face, "Is something wrong?"

The man clasped his hands together and sucked the breath through his teeth, I raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for the stupid man to start speaking, "Yes, actually. I'm afraid we've had to... remove you from your room."

"What? Why?" Sam frowned, looking at the man with those cute brown eyes, his soft lips pursing into an adorable-

I knew you liked him

The teasing voice made me stop in my tracks, I blinked and focused on the short ugly guy, concentrating on what he was saying in that weak, nasal voice, "... Bank of the card you gave us to pay with contacted us earlier – it didn't access your account because there is no Keith Richards registered with an account." He looked at Sam with what I supposed was meant to be a stern expression, but his eyes were too wet, too pale a green to look intimidating.

"Well, here, we'll try mine then, yeah?" Dean dug in his pocket for his wallet and flicked through it until he found the right one, "Here you go, man." Dean smiled as the clerk took the card and studied it.

"Ronnie Wood. You're telling me your name is Ronnie Wood?" The man looked up at Dean dubiously.

Dean nodded, "Yep."

The clerk blinked and looked at Sam, "And you're called Keith Richards, yeah? And who's she? Mick Jagger?" He pointed one of his sausage fingers at me.

I flashed him a wicked smile, "Charlotte Watts, actually. Most people call me Charlie. I have my card, if you'd like to try that." I started digging around in my jacket for my purse where my FBI cards and fake IDs were.

The man sighed and held up his hand, "No need, no need! Do you honestly expect me to believe the crap you're trying to sell?"

Sam frowned at us with a smile, then he let out a short laugh, "I'm sorry?"

The clerk rolled his pale green eyes, "Oh come on, Keith Richards, Ronnie Wood – frickin' Charlie Watts! They're band members from The Rolling Stones."

"I think you've made some mistake." I lied, trying to look convincing.

"Oh hell, have I made a mistake!" The portly guy snapped, "If you three jokers don't pay with real money and leave tonight I'll call the cops and report you." He threatened.

Uh-oh, can't have that can we? Maybe you should step aside for this one, Steph, let me handle this

I rolled my eyes at the offer, trying to convince myself that it wasn't as great as it sounded. Beside me, Dean held up his hands and sighed, "Ok, ok. You take cash?" He asked, reaching into his jeans pocket.

"We're gonna go upstairs and grab the stuff." I told Dean as he began counting out the money he had hustled just last week playing pool.

"Yeah, yeah – you guys do that." Dean nodded in agreement.

The portly man looked at us, "I can send someone up to help if you like." He offered.

I smiled, my mind casting back to the unshaven, greasy lean guy who had served us at the desk yesterday, "No it's ok, we've got it handled." Sam shook his head, we couldn't let anyone see the guns we had up there.

My hand brushed against Dean's arm as Sam and I passed him, my fingers lingered against him for a moment, "We'll meet you outside." I told him with a small smile.

Sam and I were quiet as we walked up the poorly carpeted stairs, some of the lights in our corridor were broken, and we were met with an uneven gloom when we reached the top.

Lighting kind of sets the mood, doesn't it?

I sighed at the voice in my head as we walked down the hall, "What's wrong?" Sam asked.

I scoffed, "Nothing, nothing. Just, uh, thinking they could really replace the lights around here, make it a little brighter, you know?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, but you know; cheap motels means cheap management, right?"

"Guess so." I murmured, reading the door numbers as we passed them in the half-light.

When we reached the right door Sam fumbled in his pockets for the room key before unlocking the door, when we entered we split up and moved over to different sides of the room to start packing. "What are we gonna do now?" I wondered aloud as I started packing away clothes into duffel bags, "I mean, there's definitely a case here, we can't exactly leave town."

Sam shrugged from across the room, "There's another motel a few blocks from here, we'll just hole up there I guess."

I stared at Sam for a long time before my eyebrows creased into a delicate frown, "You're angry." I observed.

The younger Winchester heaved a sigh, but he didn't look up from packing the stuff, "No I'm not."

I scoffed, "Right. 'Course."

Sam snapped his head up at me, "Well what do you want me to say, Steph? That I'm 'fine' just like you are? Who are you kidding? Because it's not me, it's not Dean. And it's certainly not yourself."

I blinked once, taken aback, but quickly narrowed my eyes at himas I recovered, "You don't know me."

"Oh yeah?" Sam sauntered over to me in a few sharp, long steps, "Then who does know you, Steph?" He asked, towering over me, "Because from what I've seen, no one does. Not even yourself."

His words hit a nerve and I stayed quiet as I stared up at him, in a flash of anger my hand flicked and Sam's head whipped back, his cheek rapidly turning red. I looked at my hand in shock, then I threw my arms around him and pressed my face to his chest, "I'm sorry," I whispered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry." I mumbled into his shirt, my eyes beginning to well up.

After a long, overdrawn moment, arms wrapped around me and pulled me closer to Sam – if that was even possible. "It's ok, I know. I know." Sam murmured.

"I didn't mean it," I promised, "I didn't mean any of it, Sam."

We stayed like that for what seemed like hours until Sam gently let go of me, taking hold of my wrists and keeping me close. Everything seemed to slow at that point, the motel room was flawed but at the same time it was perfect – the gloom that promised to hold secrets and forbidden memories, the peeling walls and stained threaded carpets that gave the room a sort of cliché of romance – however foolish that sounded.

Yeah, you sound like an idiot

I'd have probably responded, but I was too busy kissing Sam to do so. I knew I shouldn't have, but I enjoyed it immensely. Sam was somehow soft and gentle, but at the same time he was strong and fierce.

It was amazing.

We broke apart, breathless, and Sam stepped back to take off his shirt. When I saw his chest I lost what little willpower I had left, I shrugged out of my jacket at record speed, my tunic came next. Sam pulled me close to him and we kissed again, one of his hands moved behind my back and worked on my bra, once it was was off he lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist, my hands snaking through his hair as we kissed.

A loud, disrupting knock at the door caused us to part, "Excuse me? I don't know what's going on in there but this room needs to be vacated in the next two minutes or else I'm calling the cops!" A voice warned.

Sam placed me on the floor, his breathing fast and low, "Shit." He muttered. I ran a hand through my hair, focusing on putting my clothes back on quietly, throwing the occasional item of clothing in the duffel bag as I did so. Once my jacket was on and Sam had fixed himself I pointed to the bathroom, "Get the stuff, I'll take the bags and meet you outside."

"But Steph-"

"Sam," I gave him a sad look, "Do you honestly think now is the time?" I asked, gesturing to the door for emphasis. Sam followed my gaze and looked at the door, then he nodded reluctantly, moving through the dark towards the bathroom door quickly.

I finished packing the clothes away and discarded of the food I had barely touched earlier, then I walked over to the door and struggled to open it with my hands full. The portly clerk from downstairs was waiting for me on the other side, he appraised me with a suspicious look and put his hands on his hips, as if he were an adult and I was a child. "And what, exactly, was taking you so long in there, hmm?" He asked, I held my tongue and brushed past him nonchalantly, heading for the stairs.

Dean was leaning against the car looking up at the stars when I emerged from the motel, he met me with a smile on his lips and I got a sick feeling at the pit in my stomach.

Hey, let's have a bet! I bet Dean knows what you were doing with his brother upstairs... if I win, you and I switch places. Sound good?

"Shut up." I muttered through gritted teeth as I neared the older Winchester.

"Hey, what's with the hold-up upstairs? Everything ok?" Dean asked, his green eyes filled with concern.

"Uh, yeah. Just the clerk, you know? He came upstairs and started bothering Sam and I." It wasn't exactly a lie, but it didn't make me feel any better, either.

"Ah ok," Dean nodded, "Where is Sam? Is he ok?"

"Yeah, Sam's fine. He's - he's good," I said as I put the bags down, "Why wouldn't he be?"

Dean shrugged and I moved to the back of the car, popping the trunk so I could load the stuff, lazily reaching out with my hand and having one of the bags shoot into my waiting palm so I could load it quickly. I concentrated on what I was doing so I wouldn't have to look at Dean, taking my time to put the first bag in, pausing to rearrange some of the guns and swords to ensure I had enough room for the other stuff. Sam came out as I was finishing with the trunk, he looked at me for a few milliseconds before he carelessly threw the bag of toiletries into the back.

"We good to go?" Sam asked, looking at Dean as if he hadn't been making out with his supposed girlfriend not ten minutes ago.

The older Winchester shrugged again, "Sure, sure. There's another motel not far from here. I'm gonna have to scam a few more credit cards tomorrow, we'll use one of the others that we have instead." He replied.

I cleared my throat, "Sounds like a plan."

T

The drive to the motel was filled with Dean telling me that when he and Sam were kids, they were in this town with John hunting a witch that was preying on children – same as now.

"So wait, this Shtriga... you think it's the same one Dad hunted before?" Sam asked as we pulled up outside the back-up motel.

"Yeah, maybe." Dean shrugged, focusing on parking the car.

"But here's the thing I don't get: if Dad went after it why is it still breathing air?" The younger Winchester continued.

Dean clicked his tongue impatiently, "'Cause it got away."

I frowned, "Got away?" I echoed. John Winchester didn't seem like the type of guy to leave a monster alive on purpose...

"Yeah, it happens, guys." Dean tutted, frustration beginning to seep into his tone.

"Not very often." Sam argued tersely.

Dean scoffed, "Well, I don't know what to tell you, maybe Dad didn't have his Wheaties that morning."

I tilted my head, "What are Wheaties?"

My question was ignored, instead, Sam was looking at his brother intently. "What else do you remember?" Sam demanded.

"Nothing," Dean emphasised defensively, "I was a kid, alright?" He got out of the car in a huff, slamming the door as he went.

Sam stared after him and gave a deep sigh, "There's something he's not telling. Either that or he's just being weird."

"Yeah." I agreed quietly. The seconds dragged by until the silence got too much. Overwhelmed by it, I got out and followed Dean to the motel quickly, hurrying to get away with what I did with Sam earlier. I found the older Winchester leaning against the counter, there was no one attending and he was tapping his fingers against the desk impatiently. "You know there's a bell, right?" I asked, ringing the desk bell for emphasis.

A young boy came out of the back room, through the open door I saw an even younger boy sat on the sofa watching TV, "A king or two queens?" The boy asked, skipping pleasantries.

The entrance door shut and Dean and I glanced back at Sam, "Two queens." Dean answered.

The boy pointedly looked at the boys and then at me, "Yeah, I'll bet." He sniggered under his breath.

"Excuse me?" I narrowed my eyes a the kid, did he seriously just imply what I think he was implying?

Well, it's not exactly false now, is it?

I scoffed at the comment from Darquesse, the door behind the desk suddenly opened and a woman entered. She was young, no older than Dean was, for sure, she gave us a welcoming smile as Sam joined us, "Hi." She greeted.

"Hi." Dean smiled back.

"Checking in?" She asked.

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

The woman nodded and looked down at the smart-mouthed boy, "Do me a favour, go get your brother some dinner." She said.

"I'm helping the guests!" The boy protested, the woman gave him that legendary look that mothers can give to make their kids do anything, the boy faltered under his mother's gaze and went back into the room where the younger boy was – presumably his brother.

"Now what'll it be?" The woman asked, adjusting her hair with a sigh.

"Two queens." Sam replied with a friendly smile.

"Tough little kid." Dean said, his eyes fixed on the door to the room where the two boys were, but he had a distant, more nostalgic look in his gaze.

"Oh, yeah. He thinks so," The woman smiled in fond agreement, "Will that be cash or credit?" She asked the older Winchester, but Dean wasn't paying attention. He was focussed on the door with that faraway look in his green eyes, I reached out and touched his arm, but he didn't respond. "Sir?" The woman frowned at Dean.

Her prompt was enough to jolt Dean "Uh, cash." Dean smiled back and snapped out of his trance, digging into his pockets and getting his wallet out, Sam and I looked at eachother behind Dean and I arched an eyebrow and shrugged.

T

In the motel room, Sam was researching on his laptop whilst Dean and I were lounging on the couch. The limitation of sleep had started to show, and since Dean had cut me off from caffeine the exhaustion had really started to hit me. That's why Dean and I were on the couch instead of helping with the research, Dean had his arm wrapped around me whilst I rested my head on his chest, my eyes closed and my mind resting contentedly on the cusp of sleep.

The tapping of Sam's keyboard faltered and I heard Sam sigh, "Dean?" He whispered, "Is she asleep?"

I wrestled with myself to force my eyelids open, "No, I'm not. What did you find, Sam?" I yawned out my question, not bothering to lift my head from Dean and look around.

"Well, Dean was right — it turns out the Shtriga is a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about them trace back to Ancient Rome. It says here that they feed off spiritus vitae." Sam relayed his research to us.

"Spiri-what?" Dean echoed confusedly.

"Vitae. It's Latin – translates to 'breath of life', kinda like your life force, or essence." Sam answered.

"The doctor. He said it was like the children's bodies were wearing out." I supplied, leaning forward off of Dean momentarily so I could take my jacket off. I folder it over the armrest and went back to my earlier position, Dean's hand found mine and he took it, our fingers interlocked and I smiled a little.

These were some of the moments I liked best with Dean, suddenly everything I'd been worrying about became meaningless. That, I realised, was one of the best things about Dean, he made everything ok and safe. Protected.

"It's a thought," Sam's musings broke into my thoughts, "Maybe when she takes your vitality then your immunity goes to hell – illness takes hold. The doctor said it looked like a form of pneumonia, anyway. Apparently shtrigas can feed off anyone but their prey of choice is-"

"Children." Dean finished in a grim tone.

"Yeah. Probably because they have a stronger life force. And get this – Shtrigas are 'invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man.'." I stiffened as the topic moved onto children, images of my little sister Alice filled my mind as Sam read from his laptop.

Above me Dean shook his head, "No, that's not right," He disagreed, "She's vulnerable when she feeds." He corrected.

I looked up at Dean, "What?"

"If you catch her when she's feeding you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron... either buckshots or rounds, I think." The older Winchester continued with his brow furrowed.

There was a short silence as his words settled into the air, "How do you know that?" Sam asked.

The couch jostled a little as Dean shrugged, "Dad told me. I remember he did."

"Oh," Sam said quietly, "Huh. So uh, anything else Dad might've mentioned?" His question came out slightly strained, and I knew he was wondering about the different relationships John had with both of his children.

"Nope. That's it." Dean replied, unaware about Sam's current inner turmoil.

I sat up on the sofa and turned to look at Sam, "Are you ok, Sam?" I asked, giving him a look of understanding.

"Fine," He replied in a clipped tone, "So, assuming we can kill it when it eats, we've still gotta find the thing first – which isn't gonna be a walk in the park. Shtrigas can take on a human disguise when they're not hunting." Sam's tone adjusted as he focused on the monster hunt.

I stood up from the couch and stretched, "Any particular type of human disguise?"

"Historically, something innocuous. It could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman – which might be how the whole 'witches as old crones' legend got started." Sam replied.

"Old woman?" I repeated, the haggard, wizened old woman from the hospital who completely creeped me out with her cross and the wheelchair came into mind.

Meanwhile, Dean had stood up from the couch too and he walked over to where his brother was and sorted through Sam's spread out papers until he found a map of the town, "I marked down all the addresses of the victims, now check this out," Dean gestured to the map, I moved over to get a better look at what Dean was trying to get at, "Now, these are the houses that have been hit so far, and look at what's dead centre."

"The hospital." I said, tilting my head curiously as I looked down at the map.

"Yep, the hospital." Dean nodded.

I snapped my fingers, a spark flew but I didn't bother with it, "When we went to the hospital to see the kids I saw a patient – an old woman."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks and he leant forward in his chair, "An old person, huh?"

"Yeah." I nodded.

"In a hospital?" Dean's eyes widened and he and Sam shook their heads and sniggered.

"Gee, Steph. We better call the Coast Guard." Sam said in a serious tone, a playful smile on his face.

I narrowed my eyes at the two idiots, "Well listen, you assholes – she was super creepy and scary looking, with her hair and wheelchair and drawn curtains, and that weird inverted cross." I said. On inverted cross the boys stopped their chortling and looked up at me seriously, I crossed my arms and raised a smug eyebrow, "See?"

T

It seems the boys had taken my description very seriously, because not an hour later we were hurrying down the hallways of the hospital, we rounded a corner but quickly retreated back when we saw Dr. Heidecker. We backed away until we found a prescription desk, the nurse attending was nowhere to be found so we all jumped over it. We all crouched together in silence, I held out a hand in front of me so I could read the air carefully.

"Goodnight, Dr. Heidecker." A nurses voice echoes down the hall towards us.

"See you tomorrow, Betty." I recognised the doctor's voice and I wondered briefly whether he was talking to the same nurse who was helping him from earlier.

"Try to get some sleep." Betty advised him.

Hey, maybe you should take that advice. Aren't you exhausted right now?

I blinked against the sudden weighted feeling of fatigue that the reminder bought on and shook my head in an effort to fight against it. The air shifted beneath my palm as someone walked past where the three of us were hiding, accompanied footsteps that echoed around the hallways confirmed someone leaving. Another set of footsteps approached, more heavy and slowed – Dr. Heidecker's I had no doubt, when he past by us without faltering we counted very slowly to fifteen before straightening up.

I led the boys down the hall until we came to the right door, I nodded to the boys and took out the gun they had given me, they drew their own guns and nodded back. Carefully, I tried the door handle and eased it open, stepping in first quietly. The lights were off like they were the first time, the only source of light was coming in through the gaps of the blinds from the street lamps outside. The old woman was in her wheelchair like she was when I last saw her, her shoulders were moving up and down evenly and slowly – as if she was sleeping.

Dean moved cautiously towards the woman and whilst Sam and I hung back by the door, our guns trained on the patient in the chair. Slowly, far too slowly, Dean inched closer to the woman, nearing her face. Everything was silent. No one dared breath but the old woman.

In a flash, the woman's head snapped to Dean, "Who the hell are you?!" She demanded in an old, wiry tone. Dean freaked out, leaping back and colliding with the wall cabinet. I'd have pulled the trigger if it weren't for Sam holding up his hand, stopping me. The woman looked around on her other shoulder at us, "Who's there? You trying to steal my stuff?" She accused, "They're always stealing around here."

Sam fell against the wall in shock, his arm moving around the wall until he found the switch. Once the lights flicked on the woman looked around at Dean, her grey eyes were clouded.

Clouded eyes? That's Cataracts. Kenspeckle told us about it. You know... before Clarabelle killed him with those scalpels.

"She's got Cataracts." I mouthed to Dean, pointing to my eyes helpfully.

"No, ma'am, we're just maintenance," Sam assured the women, "We're sorry, we thought you were sleeping." He apologised quickly.

"Oh nonsense, I was sleeping with my peepers open," She let out a throaty laugh and pointed to the wall behind Dean, "And fixed that crucifix, would ya? I've asked four damn times already!"

Dean moved over to the crucifix and tapped it with a shaking hand, it was just positioned wrong on the wall, and it swung the right way around to a normal looking cross. After he'd fixed the cross Dean back away from the woman slowly, his gun still drawn.

Once the three of us were out in the hallway and I had shut the door I leant against it and closed my eyes, "Jesus." I whispered.

"And that," Dean's voice made me open my eyes again, "Is why we're never gonna listen to Steph again."

Beside him, Sam started laughing, causing Dean and I to look at him curiously, "What's so funny?" I asked.

"I was sleeping with my peepers open." Sam barely managed to quote before falling into a fit of laughter again.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, but a grin slowly won my mouth over as Sam laughed harder. "Come on, I just wanna check on these kids – see if any of them are awake again, you know?" I pushed myself off of the wall and walked down towards the Children's Ward, the whole hallway was lit up from the bright fluorescent lighting overhead. The air shifted behind me, telling me I didn't have to look around to know the boys were close behind me, when we reached the Children's Ward I clicked my fingers and conjured a flame because someone had turned the lights off. A grim silence had buried it's hooks into this ward among the dying children, and it lingered in their shallow breaths.

Dean came up behind me as I stared at the children in their beds, "None of them are awake." He said.

"Mmm." I agreed, looking at the machine beside the bed nearest to us. Curiously, I approached the bed and studied the young girl laying in it, her skin was pale and sickly – as expected, and her chest rose quickly in short breaths, as if she was struggling to fill her lungs with enough air. Her hair was as dark as mine, and I couldn't help but think of little Alice as I stood there in the dark. "We have to find this witch," I said in an oddly quiet voice as I turned to the boys, "Before they start dying," I turned back to the girl and took a deep breath, steeling myself, "Come on. Let's get out of here."

T

Sam was still laughing as the three of us jumped out of the car outside the motel, "I was sleeping with my peepers open. Oh God, that was funny."

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother, "I almost smoked that old girl, I swear," He shook his head and frowned as Sam kept laughing, "It's not funny!"

"You should've seen your face!" Sam teased, collapsing into giggles again. I stared at the younger Winchester in amusement, whilst Dean huffed beside me.

"Yeah, laugh it off. Now we're back to square one." He said with an irritated edge to his tone, he looked away from Sam and moved away from where we were standing, "Hang on."

"Where are you going?" I called out to him, but he didn't reply. I scoffed and looked back at Sam, who seemed to be recovering from his bout of laughing. I sighed, not really wanting to spend any more time alone with Sam, especially not since... I blinked and shook my head, snapping out of it, "Come on." I told him, and together we followed Dean over to the motel.

Sam and I entered the lobby quickly and quietly, immediately I felt the solemn mood within. Dean was stood there talking with the mouthy boy from earlier, although he didn't look like a tough kid anymore... his eyes were wide with guilt and his expression was forlorn. "I should've made sure the window was latched," The boy was saying to Dean, "He wouldn't've got pneumonia if the window was latched."

Dean dropped his gaze with the kid, as if he was familiar with the boy's recount. I glanced up at Sam, but he was watching his brother with a thoughtful expression on his face. Finally Dean looked up at the kid, "Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault. Ok?" He said in a forced tone, as if he was trying to convince someone other than the kid.

The boy shook his head, "It's my job to look after him."

The boy's mother suddenly emerged from the door behind the desk, she was carrying her handbag and two overnight bags, "Michael, I want you to turn on the no vacancy sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service so don't bother with any of the rooms." She ordered in a shaking tone, her eyes were red and puffy, bloodshot from crying for so long.

The boy stood up from his chair behind the desk and trailed after his mother as she struggled with the door. "I'm going with you." He protested, but it wasn't as nearly as strong as it was earlier when he stood up to his mother.

"Not now, Michael." The mother said in an exhausted tone as she hurried out to her car, the boy close on her heels. The three of us slowly followed, lingering outside on the pavement as we watched the mother and son.

"But I gotta see Asher!" Michael pressed.

Dean jogged over to where the family was, he crouched down next to Michael and put a hand on his shoulder, "Hey Michael. Hey. I know how you feel – I'm a big brother too..." Dean glanced back at Sam with a small smile, "But you've gotta go easy on your Mum right now, ok?"

Michael nodded as his mother dropped her handbag as she tried to load the car in her shaking haste, "Dammit!" She cursed, leaning back against the car and lifting both her hands to her head.

Sam and I ran over to help, Sam grabbed her handbag whilst I took the night bags and loaded them into the passenger seat, "We've got it." Sam smiled at her as she took her handbag again.

"Thank you." She said gratefully, turning and giving me a smile.

I returned it and she wiped her teary eyes. Dean straightened up and touched her arm, "Listen, you're in no condition to drive – why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital?" He offered.

The woman shook her head, "No, I couldn't possibly..."

"No, it's no trouble. I insist." Dean cut her off, taking her keys.

Michael's mother gave in and her shoulders relaxed a little, "Thanks," She breathed, then she turned to her son, "Be good." She told him as Dean helped her into the car.

After she was in safely Dean turned to Sam and I, "We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?"

T

Author's Note: Cliffhanger! I'm so sorry for the late update guys, spoiler alert: college SUCKS. I mean, Drama's great but English sucks and Sociology's fucking boring. This episode wasn't really a particular favourite of mine and I've decided to write this one in two parts because I didn't want to post a 20'000 word chapter. So what did you guys think of this one? Tell me in your reviews below and if you have twitter go check out itsStephEdgely to get a different side of updates from Val and the boys.