Dearest Readers,

Thank you so much for reading this story! I promised more updates, and they will be continuing to come (as well as other stories of mine as well). So go ahead and give me a follow to stay tuned with all the new updates! Tata for now!

XOXO Ally Layne.

Holy Water

Chapter 9: Bedtime Stories

Somehow, Dean had gotten his hands on the drawing that Persie had completed based on Kyle's basic description. "Uh, well… I had no idea that you were such a little artist," he claimed, having gotten over the fact that she had Sammy withholding secrets from him.

Persie grinned over at the older Winchester brother. "Last I checked, there's nothing about me that's little, hotshot."

Sam let out a chuckle. "No ass and nickel?"

She gapped. "Sammy Winchester, I thought you liked my ass."

Dean choked. "What-"

Persie rolled her eyes. "Whatever, so Dean, what did the doc have to say about Kyle and his brothers? Anything good?"

Dean arched a brow. "Certainly nothing like hearing my brother has a thing for your ass-"

Sam pursed his lips into a low pout.

"But he didn't say much. They were DOA on the scene, but he did give me a lowdown on the coroner's report."

"Let me guess, their hearts were missing?" Sam interjected.

"Why would their hearts be missing?" Persie asked before Dean could open his mouth to answer.

"Well-"

"Actually, their hearts weren't missing," Dean cut them off, before whirling on Persie to cut his brother off from the younger woman. "But chunks of their liver, kidneys, intestines…"

"Gross," Sam commented.

Persie stopped and crossed her arms at the brothers, who quickly slowed down to a stop and turned to look at her.

"What?" Dean asked the first one to bite at her little trap.

"What about hearts? You never answered me, Sam, and if I am going to help the two of you-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean stopped her, holding up his hands in surrender. "Slow your roll, Kelpie. We'll explain more later, but werewolves would normally eat the hearts of their victims."

Persie nodded along. "And because Kyle's brothers' hearts weren't torn to pieces like the rest of them-"

"Tells us that these aren't werewolves we're dealing with," Dean finished. He tilted his head and smiled slightly at the raven-haired demigoddess, who happened to look mighty fine in her pantsuit. "We good now?"

She shrugged, but couldn't hide the growing smile taking over her face. "Sure, I guess."

"Good, let's go then."

They continued their walk down the pathway to get to the Impala. "So, what are we dealing with, then?" Sam shook his head. "Demon? An attacker could've been possessed."

Dean immediately shook his head. "Why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?"

Persie let out a sigh. "Anything I've dealt with wouldn't let Kyle get away. No survivors, no witnesses," she deadpanned, her eyes clouding over as she became stuck in a memory.

Sam and Dean shared a look just as they reached the car before Dean reached over to place a hand on her shoulder, shaking her from wherever or whatever she had been lost in. "Are we good?"

She blinked, her eyes once more focusing on his own green ones. A faint blush flitted over her cheeks as she nodded. "We're good."

Now, in order to figure out what caused the murders, they were going to have to wait.

And in Persie's experience, waiting was the worst part.

"Help!"

"Please, someone help!"

"Is anyone there?"

.

.

.

.

The next day, they found themselves at the hospital again, only this time they were there to question a Miss Julie Watson.

Persie held her pen and came prepared this time with a notepad in her bag. Just as they arrived at the room, Dr. Garrison was leaving, and his eyes widened at the sight of them. "Detectives."

Persie nodded her head to him politely, still fiddling lightly with Riptide.

"Dr. Garrison," Dean formally greeted.

The doctor sighed and seemed to become more firm in his stance. "What the hell is going on here? This whole town is going insane!"

Persie pursed her lips as Sam let out a sigh, "We'll let you know as soon as we do."

Dr. Garrison let out another sigh before walking off, and Persie watched as he left, seeing his shoulders continue to droop as he walked away. Sam placed a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see Dean already entering the room, with them quickly following.

"Miss Watson?" Sam asked, walking up to her bed in a non-confrontational manner.

"Hi, we have to ask you a few questions," Dean began. They all quickly flipped out their badges, and she watched as Juile's manner seemed to sink as she realized what they were there for.

It had to be hard on the girl- Persie remembered from her own experiences that the questioning after the fact was almost worse than what happened itself.

"Do we have to go over this again now?"

Sam smiled reassuringly. "We will try to be brief. Miss Watson, can you tell us how you got away?"

She watched on curiously as she witnessed the boys change their manner with a different victim, this time a woman who was clearly in grief.

Julie nodded, her eyes looking down at her hands as her tears fell to hit the hospital gown. "I didn't eat as much as Ken did, so I wasn't as out of it," she spoke warily. "And, when the old woman was… carving Ken up, I shoved her and she fell. Cracked her head on the stove. She's dead, right? I… I killed her?"

Persie felt strongly as her heart clenched for the girl, even noticing the brothers wince as she described her story.

"Do you have any idea why she would do this to you?" Dean asked, smartly directing away from the question.

More tears fell from Julie's eyes. "No," she choked out. "One moment she was a sweet old lady, and the next she was, like, a monster!"

Persie walked over to the bed, and sat at her side, hoping that a female presence might help her open up some. "Is there anything else you can remember, Miss Watson? You have already been so good."

Julie looked at Persie, and her eyes widened slightly when she saw her hair. "You… Did you find a little girl there, by any chance?"

Persie looked up at the boys who shook their heads, eyes widening slightly at her words. "A little girl?" She pushed. "A little girl was at the house?"

"I thought I saw her outside the window," she insisted, before looking back down at her hands and shaking her head. "She just disappeared. Just vanished into thin air… it… it must've been the drugs."

Persie immediately shook her head. "No, no, Miss Watson, anything, any little detail can help."

"This disappearing girl, what'd it… what did she look like?" Dean asked.

Julie looked at Persie. "She had dark hair, like you. Really pale skin, too, and she was about eight years old." She shook her head again. "She was a beautiful child, it was… odd, to see her in the middle of something so horrible."

Persie nodded, looking back up at the boys who were obviously thinking through just who… or what, that little girl could've been.

"Thank you so much for your time, Miss Watson," Persie said, getting up and grabbing her bag. "If you can remember anything else, please make sure to let us know."

A little girl, dark hair, pale skin.

Julie was right, Persie determined. Things were definitely odd.

.

.

.

It was a quick ride to the house where the old lady carved up her victim and ultimately met her demise at the hands of Julie Watson. They had taken the time to change their clothes, but Persie decided to stay in her pants and blouse, not really knowing who they just might run into.

At least if she were dressed for the job, trespassing might just be easy to get out of if they got caught.

"Well, there's no sulfur anywhere," Dean commented as he walked through the house. "What about the EMF?"

Sam was holding some weird device that he had explained to Persie as being an EMF reader, which read the electromagnetic frequency of the area around it. To be honest, he was speaking gibberish, and she had no idea what the Hades he meant, but she supposed it must mean something to the boys.

"Yeah," he said. "It's going nuts over here by the window." He turned to look at Dean and Persie. "There definitely was a spirit here."

"Who stood outside the crime scene and just watched," Dean summed up, Persie humming in agreement next to him.

"Looks like," Sam concurred.

"What the Hades do you make of that?" Persie asked.

Dean looked down at her. "Hades? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. "Demigod things."

He let out a huff and looked over to Sam for an answer to the question that he was wondering, too.

"Actually, I do have a theory," Sam said, before wincing slightly. "Well, sorta."

Dean let out a sigh. "Hit me."

Persie walked over to her bag that was laying on the table of the house, and pulled out her notepad, and prepared to write stuff down. Uncle B told her she should be taking notes, considering she had the nasty ADD habit of forgetting little blips of things, so this should make it easier.

"Well, I was thinking about fairytales," Sam started, making Persie drop her pen and look at him in confusion.

"What?"

Dean snorted. "Oh, that's… that's nice. Think about fairy tales often?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "No, Dean, I'm talking about the murders. A guy and a girl, hiking through the woods, and an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's-"

"Hansel and Gretel?" Persie finished, albeit warily.

Sam pointed to her, nodding. "See? Yeah, that's it." He looked back over to Dean. "Then we got three brothers arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf."

Dean started to nod. "Three Little Pigs." He paused, before shrugging lightly. "Actually, those guys were a little chubby. But I thought all those things ended with everyone living happily ever after?"

Persie started taking notes, connecting them to the different fairy tales they would have corresponded with, before stopping at Dean's question.

"No, no, not the originals," Sam claimed. "See, the Grimm Brothers' stuff was kind of like the folklore of its day, full of sex, violence, cannibalism…"

Dean walked over the window, peering through the sheer fabric to check out how a ghost could have just watched from the outside. From the outside, not the inside.

As if it were watching, spectating…

Persie wrote down the correlation to watching something from outside, not taking part in it as opposed to actually being in the place of the action.

Like someone reading or watching a fairy tale.

"-Turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories," Sam finished, just as Persie popped back into reality.

"So you think the murders are what, a reenactment?" Dean asked. "That's a little crazy."

Persie shook her head. "You live in a world of monsters, demons, demigods, and all of that good crazy stuff, and you think the personification of folklore is a little weird?"

Dean paused. "Well, when you say it like that…"

Sam shrugged on his coat. "Especially considering it is every day of our lives."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I get it." He walked over to the table to grab his own bag. "So how's the creepy ghost girl involved?"

"Um, she must've been here for a reason," Sam said. "I'm willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site, too."

Dean sighed. "We gotta do some research, don't we?"

Sam shrugged. "Yep."

Persie nodded in agreement. "How would she be able to make all this stuff happen though? If she really is the spirit of a little kid?"

The boys looked at each other, and Dean looked down at her with another cheeky grin. "Boy, Kelpie, after living in a world of monsters, demons, demigods-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," she cut him off, rolling her eyes at his antics. "But actually, is that something that could happen for a regular ghost?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "What, like Casper?"

She pouted.

"No, actually, this is not something we see every day," Sam took pity on her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ready to make Dean do some research?"

Persie groaned. "Make Dean do research? Like I would want to do it myself? Not everyone is a Stanford boy like you, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes. "C'mon you two."

"And some of us happen to be dyslexic, too-"

"Persie…"

"And have ADHD? The horror-"

Dean rolled his eyes, "You're going to do it too, Kelpie. Let's go."

He placed his hands on her shoulders and escorted her out of the house, Sam following from behind.

If she felt a pleasant tingling sensation from the place his hands rested on her shoulders, she'd never admit it, but even if she did feel such a thing…

Well, Persie would never admit to such a thing.

Especially to Dean Winchester.