The moment Jezebel's solitude was interrupted by the men in their fine suits and styled hair, she knew she didn't like them. And her suspicion was confirmed when the shorter one spoke. Fake names? Sneaking around? Was that even protocol? Dining with witnesses and potential suspects?

Yet here they were.

With her aunt.

And she just wanted to take a nap.

"So, who are you two clowns?" She attempted to assert herself, arms crossed and chin held high. They had relocated to the living room where her aunt had provided everyone with alcoholic drinks, except her. She had apple juice. "You guys are so fake and obvious that a blind horse could see right through ya."

The shorter one opened his mouth first, and she immediately disliked him. In fact, he was her least favorite person in the room and he wasn't even the one who had kidnapped her. Fortunately, the other one spoke before him.

"I'm Sam," he introduced himself with a gentle smile. When she didn't react, he cleared his throat and gestured to the man beside him. "This is my brother Dean. We hunt monsters."

Jezebel looked over at her aunt sitting on her recliner, and the woman nodded in confirmation. The teenager accepted the information and reached for her glass of juice.

"So, you're here because of... this weekend?"

"Nah, we just heard Davis, Oklahoma was great this time of year." Dean rolled his eyes. His arms were crossed, and Sam pursed his lips at him. "What?"

"Jezebel—" Jezebel cringed into her drink, and Sam paused for a moment. "We're trying to figure out what's going on. Can you help us out? Tell us what happened that night?"

Jezebel looked away from the two men and stared at the stone fireplace. There was an overwhelming pressure in her stomach as she thought about that night, and she couldn't—

"Where did the other creep go?" She blurted out instead, looking around the room with narrowed eyes. "He's not going to kidnap me again, is he?"

"No, I will not be—"

Jezebel screamed as she turned to face the stoic man who suddenly appeared beside her on the loveseat. She immediately backed up with her rear on the armrest and kicked at the stranger.

"Hey—! Damn it, Cas!"

Cas dodged the kicks to his head and looked over at the three adults in the room as if there was no onslaught beside him.

"I have returned the horse to your stable, but he would like more bananas in the future," he said confidently, despite sounding like a total oddball. Jezebel had stopped her attack but stayed perched on top of the armchair, staring at the man named Cas with wide eyes. Then he cocked his head at her, and she fell backward with a shriek.

"Are... are you okay?" Cas asked slowly as she stayed on the floor. When there was only a grunt from the floor, he looked over at the boys in serious concern. "Dean. I think the child is hurt."

"I think she's just scared—"

"I-I am not scared!" Jezebel snapped. She had sat up, her face growing redder, and sneered at Dean. "I was just surprised!"

"Sure, kid." Dean smirked knowingly.

"Has anyone ever told you you're an asshole?" Jezebel grumbled while standing awkwardly. She dusted off her pants.

"Ever heard of the term brat?" Dean countered, and the teen gaped.

"Dean, seriously?" Sam intervened. "She's a—"

"Prick." She snapped back, a few steps away. "How aren't you dead yet with that kind of an attitude?"

"It's because of my good looks and great right hooks," Dean replied sarcastically with a condescending grin.

Jezebel scoffed.

"Your mom ain't teach you manners, did she?" She sneered with her arms crossed. At the flinch and sudden glare of the man, she smirked, knowing she hit a sore spot. "Awe, looks like I'm right. Mom left because of you, didn't—"

Dean was in front of her in an instant, and Sam stood too, shocked.

"You don't know what the hell you're saying, kid."

"I know exactly what I'm sayin', old man." Jezebel mocked. "You're just a mean man with mommy issues. Probably daddy issues too. Sounds like they're dead? It's fine though, with your line of work, you'll be joinin' her soon anyway—"

"Jezebel!" Her aunt finally yelled out while standing from her recliner. Furiously, she grabbed the younger girl by the ear and nearly dragged her toward the stairs. "We do not talk like that in my house!"

"Ow! Ow! He started it—!"

"And I'm gonna end it!" The woman snapped as she opened the back door and hauled the girl outside. "Go muck out the stables 'n don't come back until I come get ya!"

"But—but—!"

"Butts are for sittin'." Was all the response she was given before the door slammed shut, leaving Rachel with the three men—or angel?—and a silence thicker than a Bible with two language translations.

When she turned around, Dean was still standing in the middle of the room with Sam awkwardly behind him. Castiel remained in his seated position with a furrowed brow and still as rigid as ever.

"I'm... shit." Rachel sighed as she walked over to the men. "I'm so sorry 'bout her."

"Hey, it's alright." Sam ignored the indignation sent his way by his brother and smiled pleasantly, ever the mediator. "We're all a little scarred."

Dean scoffed and crossed his arms. The chair under him creaked as he fell into it, looking over at the woman in the room.

"How are we supposed to question her if every time we talk to her she acts like a brat?" Dean grumbled, and Rachel sighed.

"Maybe you should come back in the mornin'." Rachel declared with a sip of her drink.

"Yeah so that another accident can take place?"

"If you wanna talk to Jezebel, you're gonna have to wait for her." Rachel's eyes blazed as she stood to challenge the eldest brother. "That girl gets enough hell in her life, and I ain't gonna let no pretty boy hunters give her any more."

"...so you think we're pretty?" Dean cracked a smirk at the woman, and the tension in the air immediately dissipated. Rachel turned with a scoff, and Sam let out a groan. Cas took this moment to speak up, lowly, but still managing to gain the attention of everyone.

"Dean, I need to speak to you." With a swift movement he stood up and walked to the kitchen, leaving behind a miffed Dean who followed unhappily and grumbling the entire time.

"Listen, there's a guest room on the second floor," Rachel said after a moment, looking over at Sam. "Two twins with grandma quilts on top. It's open to you both, and I'll let y'all use the study."

"We're really fine—"

"I've got books on this town dating back to the native tongue of the natives who were chased onto this land," Rachel interrupted with a snort. "I've got tomes and scrolls older than the Dead Sea scrolls. You gonna deny a free-use library?"

"That... that sounds great. Thank you Rachel." Sam let out a crooked smile and Rachel cleared her throat with a nod. Rachel rubbed at her cheeks before she showed him the room and then left him in the study with a simple goodnight.


"So what did Cas have to say?" Sam inquired when his brother silently entered the study and filled up a glass with of whiskey. He took it straight. "That bad?"

"Just when I thought we might have a normal case, those bastards like to come and screw everything up." Dean grumbled and dropped onto the couch. "Apparently, this is another seal, but don't ask him which one and what to do because all he'll do is just answer some cryptic bullshit like you're the problem."

"What did he say...?" Sam dared to ask while dreading the answer. "Not another ancient demon threatening Halloween is it...?" Luckily Dean snorted, even if it was sardonic.

"Fuck knows. All he said was," Dean imitated the rigid posture and vocal presence of the angel, "'be prepared to make the right decision if you want to prevent the fall of nations,' like who the fuck says that?"

"I'll do some more research tonight." Sam said with a sigh and a hand threw his hair. "Rachel invited us over. Said we can stay upstairs and use the study."

Dean took on a salacious smile as he stared at his little brother with a knowing look. "Oh, did she now? And whose bed will you be in?" Sam didn't respond, only pursed his lips and flipped the man off from his spot at the desk.


Thursday: Day 3

"Two beds, and you guys still chose the shittiest couch and chair to sleep on," was the first thing to wake up the brothers, followed by a flip of a switch—

"Damnit, woman," Dean groaned as he sat up from his lying position and glared through a squint. "Don't you know better than to wake up a sleeping hunter?"

Rachel scoffed while limping over to her desk, where a stretching Sam was groaning lowly from the crick in his back. Dean's eyes traveled over the woman's back form, almost approvingly. All it took was a movement of the robe behind her for the grey t-shirt and shorts pajamas to be shown—

—and a loaded holster.

"I've got toast, eggs, and milk on the counter in the kitchen. Eat some breakfast, and we'll talk."

But after one bite of his toast, Dean was pathetically spitting it out with a dramatic gag. From his spot at the table, he looked up in betrayal at a sadistically amused Rachel.

"You're poisoning me," he declared with a gesture of the barely chewed piece of toast.

"Dean—" Sam rolled his eyes while buttering his toast.

"What else could explain the absolute abomination of a disaster—"

"It's gluten-free bread, idiot," and so appeared Rachel's niece, seemingly from nowhere. Jezebel sat by her aunt and ignored the men sitting in front of her as she grabbed herself a slice of bread.

"Right, Gaelic," Dean nodded, and Jezebel had to hide her grin behind a bite of cooled-off toast.

"Right," Jezebel agreed sarcastically, and then there was a weird silence of growing tension from the group of four. "So, did you guys sleep with my aunt last night?"

And that was the sentence that sent all three battle-hardened, blood-spilling, body-dropping grown adults into a choking fit. From the dry rice-flour toast in Sam's throat to the milk that spat back into its cup from Rachel, they were all reacting.

"Kid, you can't—ack—you can't say shit like that!" Dean admonished.

"It's 6:00 in the morning, and you guys are in the same clothes eating breakfast with my aunt," Jezebel pointed out with a frown. "The hell else y'all do? Ride horses?"

"Jezebel Abel, shut your damned mouth," her aunt grumbled with a whack to the girl's head. "They stayed over to research—"

"Research?"

"You left before we could ask questions or tell you anything."

"Well, here now," Jezebel shrugged. "I've gotta feed the horses and brush their coats. So I'm a little busy for a while, so who knows—"

"Well, what if we come help you?" Sam asked, and Dean rolled his eyes at the offer.

"You know anythin' about horses?" Jezebel raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I'm a fast learner."

"I'm a shit teacher," Jezebel sneered at Dean. "Plus, I wouldn't trust dumbass over there near any animal."

"You know, your manners are seriously lacking kid, and I'll have you know I listen to a ton of Toby Keith—"

"And I listen to Black Sabbath and Van Halen daily, what's that got to do with knowing anything about horses?"

Jezebel finished up her food and quickly took her dishes to the kitchen, where they were washed and left to dry on the rack beside the sink. Without another word, she left through the back door, and Sam was quick to stand up at that sound.

"Okay, how about I go with Jezebel, and you finish up research with Rachel?" Sam suggested.

All Dean had to do was raise an eyebrow at the suggestion for Sam to sigh and rub his forehead.

"Right, or, you research like a good college nerd, and I'll go to the stables." Dean refused to believe the giddiness in his voice as he jumped up from the table because although he'd have to deal with the little witch, at least he got to engage in some... cowboy-esque activity.

Sam and Rachel watched together as Dean swaggered out of the dining room, and when the screened door shut again, they both looked at each other with equal amounts of dread and amusement.

"I'll wash, and you dry, partner," Rachel snickered as she collected her dishes, and Sam was quick to pick up the rest of the dishes with a small smile threatening to bloom.


"Careful, Agent," Jezebel hollered from behind the wood fence toward Dean as he approached. "You might get dirty over here!"

Dean rolled his eyes but avoided a mud spot anyway. He supposed the agent suit he still donned didn't help with the condescension thrown his way. They'd have to go get their clothes soon...

"Anyone ever tell you you walk like you took a shit?" Jezebel mocked.

"You walk the same way." Dean snapped back.

"Yeah but I actually ride horses, so my bowlegged-self actually makes sense." The red head smirked at Dean in victory. Dean rolled his eyes and decided to be the adult of the conversation.

"I'm surprised you're even awake at this time. Don't you have school or something?"

"What does being awake and not at school have to do with anythin'?" Jezebel asked without yelling this time. Dean had already approached the stable and curiously looked around the center hallway. With a huff, the teen quickly thrust a bucket of grains and vegetables his way. "If you feed that side, I'll feed this side, and we'll get done quicker."

Dean was almost about to make a snarky comment back but instead took the bucket and watched Jezebel pick up another bucket, filled it up, and then walked over to switch the feeding buckets out. For a couple of stalls, they did in silence before Jezebel was the first one to break it.

"Small farming communities like have schools that start later. There's chores to do out on the ranch or farm, so most of don't go 'till 9 or 10. It's also 45 minutes out so I'll usually take my horse."

"Your horse?" The man asked incredulously and Jezebel nodded her head to the horse that had the purple blanket on it the night before. "Right, you ride a horse to school... that's pretty awesome." Dean admitted with an attempt to hide his awe. Jezebel ignored the compliment with a hidden blush.

"...have you ever ridden a horse before?"

"Once." Dean switched out the third stall and smiled at the brown horse in front of him. "At a fair."

Jezebel filled up her bucket and ignored Dean coming up to fill his own empty bucket. She'd have to fork some hay into the stalls later for the horses too after she filled the water troughs with clean water.

"So, why run?"

"Strange men asking to talk to me? No thanks."

"How are we strange?"

Jezebel looked over at Dean finally, who stood almost offended across the hall. With a wave of her left hand, she gestured from head to toe in answer.

"Suits show up out of nowhere? For suspicious deaths that I was first on the scene to?" A slow self-pitying smirk appeared on her face as she gestured to herself. Dark clothes and ripped jeans, bad attitude, and piercings on her body. "In a town where everyone hates me except for my aunt? Where everyone thinks I'm a witch?"

"Have you tried not wearing witchy things?" Dean suggested. "And maybe, you know, not acting like a hothead?"

Jezebel scrunched her face up at the suggestion and huffed. With agitation in her movement, she made Dean wait in silence while she finished with the last horse on her side before turning to the man.

"Go ahead, ask me questions. Why was I there, who I was with, did I kill them? Blah, blah, blah." She made a mocking talking hand beside her before yanking the final bucket from Dean's hands and walked away to grab the hose. "Start the accusations and get 'em over with it."

Dean followed at an easier pace, watching as the teen took the buckets outside the barn and started to wash out the buckets.

"Alright, you don't... you don't want to sit?" At Jezebel's glare, Dean's hands shot up in defense. "Sorry, sorry. Well, uh, why don't we start with your side of the story?"

The teen turned off the water before she answered. Then she motioned to the other two buckets for Dean to grab and began walking to the well pump. Dean followed after quietly rolling up his sleeves with a regretful grumble. His damned shirt would need a good cleaning after this. And his pants. He looked at the mud on his shoes.

At least, he hoped it was only mud.

"You can imagine a girl named Jezebel wouldn't get too many friends in a Bible group for girls." Jezebel sighed out while pumping the water.

"Why?"

"You really should read your Bible more." Jezebel mocked before reciting the scripture she had heard all of her life. "'But I have this against you, that you tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess and is teaching and seducing my servants to practice sexual immorality and to eat food sacrificed to idols...' Revelations chapter 2, verse 20."

The word revelations had Dean perking up slightly. "Revelations?"

"Yep. There's a good number of people 'round here who think I'm a sign of the end of the world all because I'm named after the woman who made others fuck men or whatever." The girl lifted her hands up and shook them mockingly before she pulled her buckets up and went to the barn. "It's so stupid. It's not like I wanted to be called that. Or be born period."

"Right..." Dean agreed quietly while he followed with his own two buckets. While they filled up the water troughs, they did so without words. A bucket for each horse station, and the sun was peeking through. Man, he wished he was asleep.

"But, anywho, I still have to go to those meetin's and functions and whoseit whatsits." Jezebel grabbed the buckets from Dean and stacked them back up. "Which is why I was there... I didn't want to be there. I had my own tent because no one wants to room with me, and I woke up to a strange rustling near my tent."

When she paused, Dean watched her body carefully. Her tone was sarcastic and harsh, but there was a slight hiccup in her hands that resembled tremors. Her chest rising and falling became quicker. And her eyes darted towards the exits and back all while she started brushing the first horse. He watched from the front of the stall.

"I-I thought they were trying to prank me again... it was nearly tradition." Jezebel spat out. "But, when I unzipped my tent... I watched them all just... walking. They weren't seeing anything, and their eyes were..." The teen paused for a moment. "She tried to grab me."

"Who?" Dean was quick to ask, a familiar heavy feeling in his stomach.

"Martha." Jezebel whispered with a silent sweep of her brush. "She grabbed me, stared at me, before pushing me aside and walked with the others. I was so in shock that I-I... I didn't know what to do."

"She grabs you and then what?" Dean tried to get the girl back on track, but she was slowing down with every passing breath. "Jezebel?"

"They... drew something in the dirt and... then they tied a noose each, they dragged themselves into the air." Jezebel breathed out warily and leaned against her horse for comfort. "They-they hung themselves. One-by-one. Without a single hesitation or sound."