Dearest Readers,

Thank you all for your wonderful comments, I am so glad you are all enjoying it so far because so am I! More updates are to come, so get ready!

XOXO Ally Layne.

Holy Water

Chapter 10: Sam Might Be Gay

Persie decided that she never wanted to do research with Dean Winchester again. He was a complete nuisance and when he failed to find anything that he needed, he kept pestering her in the meantime.

She curled up in the corner, sitting on the floor of the library and reading through some very vague death records from the past three decades when Dean thumped his head on the table in front of him in frustration.

After a short debate of wondering if she should go check in on the older Winchester, she decided to remain in her hiding place.

The last thing she needed was to be bothered by him again, or, her personal favorite, have him make a paper plane and throw it right at her face.

The last one he made nearly poked her eye out, and that is when she decided she needed to evacuate the area and go into hiding.

Hence, the floor.

It was a long, long six hours and she was pretty sure she was going to murder Sam if he didn't deal with his brother. At least, when Sam showed up to pick them up from the library after following his own leads, they were ready to bolt out the door.

Sam was waiting for them at the entrance. "So?"

Dean and Persie didn't stop to speak to Sam, instead, they kept walking, making as much space between them and the library as possible. "We read every record they had," Dean announced. "Found the usual amount of child deaths for a town this size."

Sam hurried to catch up with them. Dean, who had long legs and long strides, as well as Persie, who was currently using her frustration as a motor to keep walking fast without tiring or letting up, were two people that were hard to catch up with if you didn't resort to the awkward half-jog.

"Okay," he urged.

"Wanna know how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?"

Sam's eyebrows lifted. "Zero?"

"Zero!" Dean continued. "You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin have gone missing?"

Persie let out a long sigh.

Sam amused his brother, "Zero?"

"Right again! Zip. Zilch. Nada. Tell me you've got something good because I totally wasted the last six hours." Dean ran a hand through his hair, letting out another sigh in contempt for those stupid and useless records.

"Please tell us you have something, Sammy. Hotshot here has been driving me crazy, so if you don't do something he's probably going to die by drowning in the next hour or two," Persie whined up to the tallest Winchester brother. "Or, better yet, can we just leave him somewhere and deal with this ourselves?"

Dean scoffed. "Like you could figure it out without me."

Persie rolled her eyes. "Says the man who just spent six hours researching and didn't come up with anything useful."

Sam's chuckles kept Dean from lashing back at the younger woman, and the older man took to pacing instead. "Well, I actually do have something." The two hopeless researchers perked up. "Have you ever heard of Lillian Bailey?"

Persie shook her head, and Dean eyed his brother knowingly.

"She was a British medium from the 1930s," Sam explained.

"Ah, she got a thing for fairy tales?" Dean snapped.

Sam looked like he was trying not to laugh. "No, trances, actually. See, she'd go into these unconscious states where, um, get this- her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits."

Persie's eyebrows shot skyward. "No shit?"

"A ghost puppet master?" Dean stopped his pacing to glance at his brother oddly.

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"So we think it's a spirit that is controlling these people to do all this crazy stuff?" Persie asked, trying to clarify Sam's frame of thought. "How... just how?"

"Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending wolf-boy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?" Dean asked.

"Could be," Sam shrugged. "You know, kinda like spirit hypnosis or something."

Persie ran a hand down her face. "I think I should give someone a call, I have a few friends-"

"You have friends?" Dean asked mockingly.

She pouted. "Well, not everyone is as friendless as you, Dean Winchester."

He rolled his eyes before turning back to Sam. "Look, trances I get, but fairytale trances?" Dean shook his head lightly. "That's bizarre even for us."

They paused in their conversation as a croaking noise was heard from the ground.

The three looked down, to see an ugly looking toad squatting in the middle of the pathway. "Well that's an awkward coincidence," Persie deadpanned.

Sam looked to Dean. "Yeah you're right, that's completely normal."

Dean sighed. "Alright, maybe it is fairytales." His eyes narrowed. "Totally messed up fairy tales-"

"But still fairytales," Persie summed up.

Then, as if something seemed to hit them at the same time, the brothers shared a look and then turned to eye Persie knowingly.

She glared. "No. There is no way in Tartarus that I'm kissing that toad."

Dean snickered. "Isn't it a frog?"

Persie's glare turned to ice. "It's a toad."

"Don't you wanna meet Prince Charming?"

She smacked his arm with the back of her hand. "Shut up, pretty boy. If anyone is kissing that toad, it's gonna be you."

"I'll tell you one thing, sweetheart, there's no way I'm kissing a damn frog."

Sam laughed but paused as soon as something caught his eye. "Hey, check that out."

He pointed to a lone pumpkin that sat on the front porch of a house across the street.

"Yeah?" Persie shrugged. "It's close to Halloween."

"What?" Sam rolled his eyes at the girl. "You remember Cinderella?"

She blinked. "The pumpkin that turns into the coach and the mice that turn into horses? Yeah, I remember a little bit."

Persie blinked again when a mouse scurried across the porch.

Dean scoffed. "Dude, could you be more gay?"

Sam just stared at him, speechless.

Persie smacked his arm again, this time with her fist. "What's wrong with being gay, Winchester?"

Dean's eyes narrowed at Sam. "Don't answer that."

.

.

.

The three hurried across the street and looked around to see if anyone was paying any close attention to them as Dean knelt down to pick the lock on the door.

"Did you take a class to learn how to pick a lock or did it just come to you naturally?" Persie asked, slightly curious.

Dean looked up at her with an odd look in his eye. "Take a class?" He laughed. "Me?"

She rolled her eyes. "Shoulda known."

He shook his head and focused back on the lock. "Nah, my dad taught me."

Even though it was an odd thing for a father to teach his son, Persie figured she had no place to judge. It was because of her own father that she was involved in countless prophecies, had been sent to the underworld, and caused a few minor world-changing events, so how could she say anything?

After Dean successfully picked the lock, the trio entered the home as quietly as they could.

"Well, who knows, maybe you'll find your fairy godmother?" Dean said, smirking over at Persie.

She rolled her eyes. "Please, I have an Uncle Bobby, I don't need no fairy godmother."

His eyebrows lifted. "Touche."

Sam held up a hand to silence the two, just as a faint rustling noise could be heard coming from back into the house.

Immediately the boys took out their guns, and Persie uncapped Riptide, letting it elongate into her trusted sword.

"Damn, I'm never going to get used to that," Dean muttered, eyeing her sword warily.

She smirked, and they moved to clear out the house.

"Help!" Someone called. "I'm in here!"

Quickly, they hurried to where the voice was, and Persie's mouth tightened into a line when she saw a young blonde woman chained to an industrial-grade kitchen drawer. There was no way she would have been able to pull herself loose, but from the bloody red marks on her wrists, it was obvious she tried.

"You have to help me," the girl begged. "She's a lunatic."

"What happened?" Dean asked, eyeing all the entrances to the room. For all they knew, whoever did this was waiting and left her here as a trap.

"My stepmom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me," she choked out, "and chained me up."

Persie knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're going to be okay now, we will get you out of here. Do you know where she is now?"

"N-No..."

She noticed Sam start to take out the lock picking kit and got to work on the handcuffs. "Dean, call-"

Persie was cut off as soon as she saw a small girl appear out of the corner of her eye. "What the... Sam, Dean, stay with her-"

"No, wait, what?" Dean stammered, before looking at what she saw, and immediately nodded. "I'm coming too."

"Sam. call the police, she'll need an ambulance," Persie told the other Winchester, before capping Riptide and hurrying out to where the little girl was without trying to be too intimidating.

If this girl really was a spirit, she would bet that the girl was scared, and probably didn't understand what was going on.

Not to mention she had been witness to multiple murders, which would have a sucky effect on anyone, let alone the spirit of a young girl.

"Persie, where are you-"

She immediately stopped in the living room when the young girl appeared, Dean running right into her back as he kept walking. Luckily, Persie was ready for the man to hit her and leaned back into the weight he put on her.

"Dean put the gun down," she muttered over her shoulder, before eying the girl warily. "Hello, my name is Persie, what's yours?"

The girl looked at her sadly, then disappeared.

"Shit."

Persie didn't have time to process Dean's swear, just as she looked down to see a red apple sitting right where she had previously been standing. "Shit is right, hotshot."

She picked up the apple and turned to look at the older Winchester who was eyeing her suspiciously.

"What're you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that this girl is really our victim after all."

.

.

.

Persie and Dean were sitting on the back of the Impala, as Dean tossed the apple around and Persie texted her friend at camp, hoping to get some answers.

"I thought that demigods weren't supposed to have phones," Dean commented, keeping his eye trained on the apple he was tossing around.

"Oh, caught that, didn't you?"

"Well, I'm not good at my job for nothing."

"Details your thing?"

Dean turned to look at her with a smirk. "Depends on what kinds of details we're talkin' about, sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't call me that."

He nodded in affirmation. "Okay, sounds good, Kelpie."

She groaned. "Like that's any better."

Sam walked out of the house and approached the two lounging on the vehicle. "Paramedics picked up Cinderella," he announced.

Persie rolled her head around her shoulder to look up at him. "And by any chance did she happen to meet her prince charming?"

Sam scoffed. "At least she wasn't covered in cinders."

"She can't be Cinderella without the cinders, Sammy."

"What the hell are you two going on about?" Dean interjected.

They shrugged in unison, making the older Winchester let out a groan. "Fine, whatever. At least she's in good hands." He tossed the red apple over to Sam. "So... little girl, shiny red apple. I'm guessing that means something to you, Fairytale Boy?"

Persie snickered.

"Snow White?" Sam voiced, looking to Persie for help.

She nodded. "Hair as black as night, skin as pale as snow, lips as red as blood... I don't think the apple is a coincidence."

"Snow White?" Dean asked, hopping down from the Impala, and holding a hand out for Persie to do the same. She was surprised, but took it gracefully and walked around to hop in the back seat. "Oh, I saw that movie," he said once in the driver's seat. "Well, the porn version anyway."

Persie smacked his shoulder.

"What, it's not like I would have a reason to watch any other version!"

She rolled her eyes, crossed her arms as she leaned back into the seat. "Sure, hotshot. Whatever you say."

"Well, what can I say? The Wicked Stepmother? Woo, she was wicked all right, if you know what I mean."

Sam chuckled. "There is a wicked stepmother in the tale. She tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple."

"But the apple doesn't actually kill the girl, right?" Dean asked, turning slightly serious.

Persie bit her lip. "Depends on the version."

"Well, from what I know, it puts her in a deep sleep that only seems like death," Sam explained, squinting slightly as he recounted the story.

She let out a hum. "Sure sounds like a coma to me, boys. Maybe our little mystery friend has been under our noses this whole time."

The boys looked at each other. "Sounds like a good possibility," Sam agreed.

Dean sighed. "Ah, hell, why not?" he paused before putting the key in the ignition. "It makes sense why she wouldn't be in any records, too." His eyes flicked to Persie in the rearview mirror. "Good call, Kelpie."

She groaned. "Shut up and drive."

"Aye, aye, Captain Jackson."