A/N:

thanks for reading! Please don't forget to interact and let me know what you think!!

Shazza19: thank you for the comments and I am so glad you like it! It's also a relief that you find Dean and Sam in character… I struggled lol. I was also worried about the journal entries being too much, but thank you! I really appreciate your comments!!

scootersmom: thank you for reading and the kind comment! I hope you continue reading!!!! 3

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring-

"Hello?"

Sam asked the phone groggily while rubbing his face to wake up.

"Is this Agent Anthony?" Immediately Sam sat up from the bed anxiously felt a spike of adrenaline course through his veins. "Hello?"

"Yes, this is him." Sam confirmed and stood from the bed to look out the window of the motel. "Who is this?"

"This is the sheriff." Was the serious reply back and his next response had Sam waking Dean up almost immediately. "There's been... another death."

This time the boys made it to the scene on time and the scene was just off of a trail about a mile south of Rachel Jenkins' small ranch. Police and other emergency officials blocked the populace's entry, but all it took was a flash of the badge before the Winchester brothers were let in and briefed.

Two girls in white night gowns were hanging by the neck and were burned as if a fire had been lit beneath them... but there were no coals under their feet or nearby.

One of them was a junior named Loretta and the other was Julia who Sam recognized as the teen Jezebel had last tested with the silver cap just the day before. The only difference was a grey face, no shoes, and apparently no witnesses of any unusual activity.

By noon the two were sitting with a cup of coffee in their palms and flannel jackets around them while Rachel listened to what had just happened last night.

"Good Lord..." Rachel sighed out with a palm on her forehead. "This keeps getting worse."

"Have you heard from Jezebel today?" Sam asked quietly and Rachel frowned.

"The horses were fed this mornin', so she was here." Rachel bit her tongue in thought, trying to remember if she had seen the girl. "But I don't think she even came to eat breakfast..."

For a moment all three adults stared in thought, noise in their brains before they all seemed to get up at the same time. Rachel shot up to room the teen would occupy, Sam to the kitchen, and Dean left outside to the stables hurriedly.

One horse was missing.

By the time the other two rushed outside Dean had already made up his mind.

"If we don't find her, the suspicion is only going to increase." The man voiced the sentiment aloud with breath of hot air. "She needs an alibi."

"Well, it seems she was at my house last night." Rachel shrugged innocently, mind wondering to the way she had messed up the clean sheets ever so carefully. "Ate breakfast like usual and then went ridin'."

"Right, thanks for the testimony." Dean replied with only mild sarcasm. "I'm going to follow the trail. Stay here in case she comes back."

"In case who comes back?" A voice called out from the beginning of the trail and all three adults whipped around to see the teenage girl they had just about searched for trotting up with her horse. "The hell got you all with ants in your pants?"

"Jezebel Abel you know better than to just scurry off without tellin' me first!" Her aunt scolded harshly and Jezebel flinched. "Do you know what happened last night?"

"Jeez, I took the camping gear and made camp just outside the ranch off the trail." Jezebel grumbled while she desaddled and made gesture to the pack on her horses hip in evidence. "Came back to feed the horses n' went back to take up camp."

"Jezebel, two more girls were murdered. Loretta Williams and Julia Wilson."

Jezebel's face instantly went white and cold seeped through her body at the realization. For a moment her lips twitched and her eyes stared blankly before she turned to Dean with wide eyes.

"It wasn't me!" She insisted, pleased, nearly begged him to understand.

"Kid, look-"

"No, no, no!" Jezebel shook her head as she took a step away with her hands up in defense of immediately the two brothers changed their body language to that of a man caring for a scared animal. "I'm not a witch! I'm not evil! I didn't do it!"

"That's not why we're here!" Sam tried to explain, making sure his hands were open and nowhere near the weapons he had. "We're not here to accuse you of anything."

There was no doubt that one wrong move would send Jezebel riding for the hills. Judging from past experience, the teen was adept at horse riding and was impressive at hiding... she was smart and finicky.

"Spitfire, we know it wasn't you." Dean broke the silence with a sigh and released the tension in his body. "So stop being a dumbass and get inside so we can talk."

Immediately the affect of being insulted it Jezebel like a bus. With a red face she marched forward and pointed at the man angrily. "I'm not a dumbass! And I told you to stop tell me what to do!" She snapped.

"Yeah, yeah." Dean waved her off like a flea and shoved her towards the back door of the house. "Inside, hothead." He turned around to motion for Rachel to care for the horse while he answered each angry response with one of light annoyance.

"...are we sure they've never met?" Sam asked incredulously as he helped Rachel put the horse away with a shake of his head.

"Each duo needs a dumb one and a smart one." Rachel smirked over to the other Winchester. Sam snorted and laughed at the insinuation as she knocked her shoulder against his side in jest. "Come on partner, we gotta make sure they don't break anythin'."

"Right." Sam smiled and caught up to the woman in only a step, their hands grazing each others while they walked into a warm, yet loud house.

"Don't you think it's a little weird the circumstances and the fact that a teenaged girl slept out side in 19 degree weather alone last night?"

By the time everyone had gone inside and talked things out to a calmer point where Jezebel could go home for her daily 'I'm not dead' visitation, the sun had set and the Winchesters declined another stay over in favor of a private quarters.

The room luckily had two mattresses at a low cost, so both brother had room to sit in their own mattress. Sam kept his laptop on his lap and Dean stared up at the ceiling.

"I mean, she seems crazy enough." Dean shrugged. "But she was genuinely surprised at the murders. Hell, even the photos we took had her green in the face!"

"And there's the fact there wasn't a struggle." Sighed Sam as he went over their notes carefully. "I'm really beginning to think that it's demons again... What else could cause possessions like this?"

"But why would demons want with teenaged girls?" Dean asked before snorting. "And Hothead said she tested all of the girls. Hell, we saw that one girl get tested live!"

Sam nodded slowly in confirmation. The ruling had been labeled suicide in nature just as the others, but the townsfolk was more willing to pin the blame on the outcast. In whispers at the diner and in public, Sam could hear the gossip with light mentions of Jezebel and witchcraft not too far from each other.

But before another word could be spoken, there was a knock.

Knock. Knock. Kn-Knock.

And they were on their feet with a gun and silver knife.

Carefully Dean stepped to the front door and eyes the lining of salt to make sure it hadn't been broken. When deemed safe and a readied nod from Sam was sent his way, the man threw the door open, pointed his gun, and—

A tearful Liza stood before him without a care in the world to the weapon in her face. He allowed not a single muscle to ease when he looked her over for any sort of deception.

Blonde hair, a little ragged the assumed from walking, once pale winter shoes now muddied, thick jeans and a white winter coat. A picture of the small town girl if not for her red eyes and nose.

Carefully, Dean holstered his gun and signaled to his younger brother. While Sam quickly shoved everything away, Dean popped his head through the doorway to see if anyone else was nearby. When satisfied he, gestured for Liza to enter.

"Everything okay?" Of course it wasn't, Dean rolled his eyes at his own question.

"I-I-'m so sorry to bother y'all, but I-I didn't know what else to do." Liza began with a sniff and accepted the seat at the small table Sam showed. "I-I was, and I don't— I'm scared."

"What are you scared of?" Sam tried to ask kindly and his eyes darted to see her reaction. "Is it... your sister?"

"No!" Liza exclaimed loudly for the first time they had witnessed her. Both brothers eyebrows raised at the passion on the blondes face. "Y'all too? Everyone in this damned town has somethin' out for her when she ain't done nothin' wrong!"

While Dean was no surprise to half-siblings, having felt a certain way about his own, he had to admit he didn't think the good sister act was a real one. He had only seen the sisters act in front of others and even Jezebel seemed jaded.

"Look, I know everyone treats her like shit." Liza wiped her face clean and there was something about the naughty word that had even Dean flinching. "A-and I do a rather terrible job at sticking up for her, but she... she isn't evil. She's just... jaded, okay?"

"So... if that's not who you're afraid of..." Dean had taken notice of the fact that she had stepped over the line, picked up the silver pen, and even drank the laced water without a single hitch. "Then how'd you get here and why?"

"I... I heard Bella talking about two uhm 'dumbasses in suits staying at the shitty, grease motel' and I just... that's how I know where to go." Liza played with her fingers. "As to why I'm here... it actually is Bella."

"Bella?"

"She told me in first grade she hates her name, so I gave her a pretty one."

"Thought you didn't hate her?"

"I don't!" Liza snapped before regaining her composure with a huff. "I'm scared for her." When neither man commented she crossed her arms. "You don't believe me."

"Well... it's just hard that someone would be worried for her."

With a roll of her eyes, Liza snapped open her coat and aggressively took it off before digging into the inside pocket of the winter clothing. When she pulled out a notebook, she simmered and bit her lip.

"Look, don't... don't call me crazy, please." She pleaded with them both and kept the book to her chest. "Everyone thinks I'm already a little nuts in the head or under some spell, but I... I need you two to be somethin'—"

"Be something?"

Liza hesitated and seemed to measure her options. As if she might have guessed wrong and looked around the room for a few moments. Whatever she was looking for, she must have found it, because immediately her eyes were on the brothers with chin high and hardened eyes.

"I need you guys to be the Sam and Dean who hunts monsters."

Jezebel had come home that day to her full happy family eating without her once again. Laughter filled the air along with kind conversation until she walked through the doorway and immediately the reactions of her parents were opposite of before.

They loved tormenting her, demanding she come to the table with a prepackaged salad because the gravy slathered over the meat, rice, and vegetables was thickened with flour that they didn't want to substitute. Made in the same pots with the pasta. And just not made for her.

They continued their chat with their favorite daughter and Jezebel kept a minimal attention to them. Normal family of three, laughing, giggling, and Margret had-

"What happened to your hand?" Jezebel interrupted the conversation. There was a pause before a condescending smile spread across Margret's face and her bandaged dipped below the table.

"I burned it last night at church. Seems like someone forgot to turn off the oven, but it's no big deal." Margret dismissed before turning to her husband at the head of the table to continue their discussion.

"But... we didn't use the ovens." Jezebel said slowly and tried to ignore the alarms going off in her head. Goosebumps brushed against the sleeves of her hoodie at the way her parents reacted.

"How else did she warm up the food?" Her father chuckled.

"But... Miss Michaels brought the food during study." Jezebel turned to Liza. "Right?"

"I mean, yeah." Liza confirmed with a shrug, happy to be acknowledged by the sister. "But after you, uh, left mom was helpin' in the kitchen when she got burned."

"Nothin' for you to worry about." Margret said so sickeningly sweet with eyes slit in challenge. "Your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary."

Jezebel looked over her mother and father who held similar faces of prepared contempt before she turned to her sister. Liza had her eyebrows furrowed, but her eyes were on her plate.

"Right..." Jezebel stabbed a tomato and put in her mouth.

Soon enough the conversation continued and Jezebel fled to her bedroom where she allowed her heart to race. No locks on the door, second story window - apparently this was the room her grandfather died in. No one wanted it, so she got it.

It was drafty and dark with a view of the church that her family had stake in. The room was suffocating, every breath laden with the weight of generations past. The walls seemed to close in, suffused with a sticky residue that clung to her skin like a sinister embrace. The sight of the chapel through the window sent shivers down her spine, its towering presence casting a foreboding shadow over the room.

The air felt thick, as if it were tainted with the whispers of restless spirits, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled with a sense of unease that she couldn't shake. This wasn't just a room; it was a portal to a darker realm, where the past seemed to bleed into the present in chilling whispers and haunting echoes.

But, it had one positive note.

"She's hanging out with that disabled woman again."

She could hear everything on the first floor.

Snide comments and angry ones, it was as if there was only a layer of wood separating them all and the vents echoed the voices to her from all the rooms. All she had to do was carefully lay next to the vent on the floor and close her eyes to hear:

Knock. Knock. Kn-knock.

"Bella, are you okay?"

Jezebel's eyes shot open to glare at the door where her sister had come to bother her. When she sat up, she could barely hear the voices of her parents.

"...here to..."

"Bella, please, can we talk?"

"...rid of... protect...one."

"Just for a minute!"

"...hunters..."

With a huff, Jezebel swung open her door and glared at her sister. "What?!" She hissed quietly to which the blonde immediately frowned, but did not cower.

"I-I just wanted to check in on you. You seemed perturbed at dinner."

"I'm always perturbed at dinner." Jezebel responded dryly.

"Bella, please." Liza pleaded. "Tell me what's going on? We used to actually be friends!"

"Yeah, and then what happened?" Jezebel sneered back and found satisfaction in the flinch. "That's what I thought. Now, stop being a hopeless idiot and leave me alone!"

"Jezebel!"

The screech sent her heart up her throat and she couldn't speak. There Jack stood sternly at the stairwell with arms crossed and eyes of steel on her.

"Dad, it's okay—"

"Go to your room sweetheart." Her Mother moved from the stairwell to Liza and gave the girl a kind brush of the hair. "Jezebel and your father need a word."

"But—" Liza looked worriedly at Jezebel whose face was blank.

"Now." No room to argue besides slowly walking across the hall to her room where she turned around to watch the last sliver of her father close the door to her sister's room. And the creak of the door was the last peep she heard from the room.

And she could have sworn her mother was laughing.