Supernatural series (including a little sister)

by immieimke

Hi everyone! Here is (hopefully one day) the whole supernatural series, rewritten to how I'd like to see it. Right now, I'm not yet making a lot of changes (apart from an added female character of course), but later I probably will! I'll see how it goes. I'm still working through season two now, but I am having a lot of fun! Hopefully, you'll have fun too! I don't own supernatural!

18. Season 1, Episode 18, Something Wicked

Something wicked

It was on a damned morning, that I got the email. The email that probably contained the results to my exams, it looked all official and there was an attachment added to it. The tension that I'd already been feeling, doubled and I felt my stomach flip. "Nope." I shake my head and instantly close my inbox. I have been obsessively checking my email the last couple of days, Sam's going crazy for how many times I'd already stolen his laptop, but now here we are. The email I'd been waiting for, was in my inbox. "Nothing?" Sam, who has been waiting to get his laptop back, asks from the seat next to me. He's clearly annoyed. "No." I lie and shove the laptop back at him. "Hey, be careful." He snaps, taking it and placing it back in front of himself. I ignore him and lean my head on my hands with a sigh, hating the current atmosphere between us. This morning, dad texted Dean some coordinates. It was just that, a bunch of numbers and apparently a clear direction for where we needed to go. There was no 'how are you' or 'hey, everything okay?', just a few stupid numbers. And that had sparked all the frustration and stowed away feelings between me and my brothers about dad's whole disappearance and what happened the last time we saw him. And it had also sparked a lot of discussion between Sam and Dean, as always when it was about dad.

"Come on, check's been paid." Thankfully, there was Dean motioning to us that we could leave and I quickly chugged the last sip of my coffee. We make our way outside, climb inside the impala and soon are back on the road. Towards the coordinates dad sent Dean. It doesn't take long before another discussion rises between Sam and Dean.

"Yeah, cause you probably missed something. That's what." Dean snaps at Sam in irritation. "Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers… I couldn't find a single red flag." Sam repeats for what feels like the hundredth time and he turns the situation around. "Are you sure you got the coordinates right?" He asks. "Yeah, I double checked. Its Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy." Dean answers, trying to keep the mood light. "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…" Sam protests, clearly not caring if the mood is light or not, given by the tone he's using. I try to let out a very audible sigh, as to signal that I'm getting pretty tired of this ongoing discussion.

"Well, he might be meeting us there…" As soon as those words leave Dean's mouth, I raise my eyebrows in disbelief and Sam reacts the same way. "Ha, yeah, because he's been so easy to find up to this point." He snares sarcastically. "Well, you're a real smartass, you know that?" Dean glares sideways at Sam, shaking his head. "Don't worry, I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing." He then says, trying to sound reassuring. "Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Sam turns around to Dean, eyebrows raised expectantly. "Cause I'm the oldest. Which means I am always right." Is Dean's hilarious answer and I scoff loudly. "No, it doesn't." Me and Sam reply in unison and Dean can't help but chuckle at both our protests. "It totally does." He then says, glancing at Sam and then through the review mirror right at me. A smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Asshole…" I mutter under my breath, making sure he doesn't hear me.

Four hours later, we arrive in the little town of Fitchburg. It's a cloudy day and it sure as hell looks like it's been raining a lot. Great. Even though the weather is bad, lots of people seem to be on their way. Walking across the streets, going in and out of the shops we drive past, and sitting in the bars. Dean parks the impala on the side of the road and insists on getting some coffee, and a chance to ask around a little. He also insists that I join him, claiming he's not able to carry three cups, and practically drags me out of the car. We cross the road and soon enter the busy café, where the heaters are on and the atmosphere is light and cozy. Dean walks towards the counter to go order us something and I scrape my throat, awkwardly looking around. 'Asking around' always sounds easy to do, but actually going up to a stranger to start asking them some weird questions is a whole different story. At least, for me. It always feels unnatural and mostly makes people uncomfortable. But, it's part of the job, so I force myself over to a group of girls sitting in the corner next to the warm fire that's burning in the fireplace. They look the most approachable out of everyone that's in here and seem to be close to my age. Their backpacks are scattered on the floor next to their seats and they seem to be discussing a major assignment, their schoolbooks clearly visible. A girl with blond hair and a breathtaking smile catches my eye as I walk up to them and expectantly looks up. "Hey." I force myself to greet her as friendly as I can, giving her a bright smile. She instantly smiles back and gives me a wave. "Hi." She answers back, making the four others look up in surprise. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering, uh… I'm kind of looking for a subject for my history project that's supposed to be about this town, but I don't know its history very well… and you guys look like you live here. Do any of you maybe know something I could use?" That lie is out there before I can even think about it and all the awkwardness that was in the air, vanishes immediately. "Oh, there are lots of stories. Come on, sit." The girl with the purple sweater and black hair pats the empty space on a chair next to her and smiles invitingly. I gratefully take place, shivering as the warmth from the fireplace washes over me. The girls are all lovely, they introduce themselves and then start asking me all sorts of questions of what story I'm looking for, making me able to redirect their attention to anything recent. Sadly, they can't tell me much about anything recent, although according to them there does seem to be a lot of history in the town. And the blond girl, Ginny, keeps smiling at me. She's really pretty.

Dean roughly interrupts whatever I have going on, by suddenly appearing behind me and scraping his throat with raised eyebrows. "Oh, jeez…" I jolt from the surprise of his sudden appearance. "Skye, I did bring you so you could help me carry the coffee." He drily points out and while almost all the girls are staring up at him, Ginny's eyes are on me. "That's a really beautiful name." She tells me out of the blue and seems completely serious. "Uh, thanks…" I smile back at her, before standing up. "I'm sorry, I have to go, but thanks for the stories…" I apologetically wave at them, before hurrying after Dean towards the counter, where my cappuccino is ready. I grab it and then hastily follow him outside, back towards the impala. Sam's still there, leaning against the hood and staring off into the distance. "Well…" Dean starts, as he's reached the car. "Waitress thinks that the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that nobody has heard of anything weird going on." He continues, handing Sam his coffee. "No, the girls I was talking to also couldn't really tell me something. No gossip here, it seems." I summarize my conversation with the pretty girls. Sam doesn't really react to us, he keeps staring ahead. "Dean, you got the time?" He then asks randomly. "Ten after four." Dean answers absentmindedly, glancing at his watch. "Why?" I ask Sam curiously. Sam just nods his head forward. "What's wrong with this picture?" He questions and Dean and I both turn around to look across the street. There's a little playground there. A swing, some kind of yellow climbing rack and a red little house with small stairs going up. Benches and streetlights are surrounding it and a few moms are gathered by one of them. There's one little girl there, that seems to be playing on a little riding horse that swings back and forth. It's just one girl. "Huh…" I frown. "School's out, isn't it?" Dean asks, having also seen the lack of children playing in the playground. Sam gives a short nod. "Yeah." He confirms. "So, where is everyone? I mean, surely a playground like this should call for more kids?" I voice my thoughts out loud. "Yeah, this place should be crawling with kids right now." Sam agrees and silence rises between us. "Well, I'll go have a look." Dean then states and before I can say anything, he's walked off. I slowly lean against the hood of the impala, next to Sam, and watch him cross the street. There's a woman in a blue jacket sitting on one of the benches, close to where the one girl is climbing on the yellow rack. Sam and I sip our coffee's in silence as we wait for Dean to gather some information. He has a short talk with the woman and then comes back, his face no longer light and carefree. "What?" I ask as soon as he's in earshot. "Apparently, the kids in this town are getting sick." He tells us, tone serious. "Sick? With what?" Sam asks him in confusion. "Don't know, she didn't know either. But whatever it is, it's pretty serious. Hospital serious." Dean answers. "How many?" I ask, a heavy feeling has entered my stomach. Sick kids is never a good thing. "Five or six, I think. For now. She said parents think it's spreading, which is the reason for the empty playground." Dean explains, letting out a heavy sigh. "Well, let's figure that out, then." Sam announces, standing up and throwing a knowing look Dean's way. "Only one place for that." Dean agrees, throwing away his empty coffee cup and marching back to the car. "The hospital." I conclude to myself, diving back into the backseat.

The hospital of this little town isn't that far away and we make a necessary stop at a gas station, so Sam and Dean can shrug on the suits that are stowed away in the trunk. Time for some FBI work. Since I am actually way too young to even go as an FBI agent, I beg my brothers to let me tag along as a local cop. Dean eventually gets so fed up with my whining, that he agrees and throws me one of my own badges that state that I am a police officer. A junior one, but an police officer none the less. Since I don't have a uniform and Sam refuses to go look for one, I decide to wing it. I'm good at talking myself out of sticky situations and I'm also very good at lying.

I follow Sam and Dean towards the entrance of the hospital, half an hour later. Dressed in some neater clothes and my fake badge around my neck. Sam and Dean in front of me. "Dude, dude! I'm not using this badge!" Sam suddenly cries out, hurrying up to Dean to show it to him. "Why not?" Dean asks, seeming clueless. "Because it says bikini inspector on it?" Sam tells him, face serious. Dean grins and continues walking. "Don't worry, she won't look that close, all right? Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy." He tells him and then gives him a push. Sam stumbles and bumps right into the counter, where a nurse is expectantly looking up at him. I snort and quickly hurry up, so I can walk next to Dean, leaving Sam to get himself out of this one by himself. "You're a menace." I giggle at Dean, who gives me a cheeky wink. We stop a little further in the hall and turn around to watch Sam hesitantly introduce himself to the nurse as an agent from disease control. The nurse asks for his ID right away and me and Dean snigger. Sam throws Dean a glare, before grabbing his fake ID. He shows it to the nurse and then very quickly puts it back inside his pocket, before asking for the pediatric ward. The nurse gives him his directions, he thanks her and then comes walking back to us, face contorted with irritation. "See! Told ya it would work." Dean says to him with a bright smile on his face. Sam stops right in front of him and shakes his head. "Follow me, it's upstairs." He states, grabbing my arm and pulling me with him. When we arrive upstairs and walk through the long, hospital hall, Dean seems to fall behind. He stops by a room and glances in, face filled with confusion. "Dean." Sam calls out for him expectantly and Dean quickly joins us again. We get to the counter where Sam speaks to another nurse about why we're here and she calls a doctor for us, who arrives within minutes. Wearing his white coat and stethoscope around his neck. He introduces himself to us and thankfully, no one else asks for our ID's.

He initiates a walk and we follow him. "Well, thanks for seeing us, dr. Hydecker." Dean tells the man as we walk through a doorway, into another hall. "Well, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call the CDC myself. How did you find out, anyway?" The doctor answers him as he leads us through a waiting room. "Oh, some GP, I forget his name, he called Atlanta and uh, he must have beat you to the punch." Dean answers him, coming up with a blatant lie. Our family is good at that, lying.

"So, you said you got six cases so far?" Sam continues the conversation, wanting to get to the real reason why we're here. "Yeah, five weeks." The doctor nods, coming to a stop. Around us are several rooms with glass walls, making us able to see right through them. And as I'm looking around, I can see a few kids, lying in hospital beds. All with their eyes closed, tubes going into their noses. Their skin looks ashen and they all have dark circles under their eyes. It's a sad sight.

"At first we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy. But now…" The doctor explains, letting out a sigh. "Now what?" I ask him, motivating him to continue. "The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. The white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are… wearing out." The doctor looks right at me as he says this, his face falling. "That sounds serious." I conclude with a nod. "Excuse me, doctor Hydecker?" A nurse approaches us and hands the doctor a few forms, that he absentmindedly takes. "You ever seen anything like this before?" Sam asks him and he shakes his head, looking down at the reports. "Never this severe." He answers. "The way it spreads, that's a new one for me…" The nurse looks up at us as she says this, her eyes filled with worry. "What do you mean?" Sam asks her. "It works its way through families, but only the children. One sibling after another." She explains and chills run down my spine, I can only imagine what that must be like for the parents. "Do you mind if we interview a few of the kids?" Dean asks her, glancing at the rooms where kids are lying in their hospital beds. I have no idea why he asked that, since its clear they're all lying there with their eyes closed. "They're not conscious." The nurse indeed tells him. "None of them?" Sam asks her in surprise and she shakes her head. "No." Sam and Dean exchange tense looks. "Can we uh, talk to the parents?" Dean comes up with a different idea and the doctor sighs. "Ah, if you think it'll help…" He then agrees. Dean nods at him. "Yeah. Who's your most recent admission?" The doctor gives us the names of the parents of the kid who was most recently admitted to the hospital and it turns out that these parents are in the waiting room we just passed. We say goodbye to the doctor and make our way back to the waiting room. "This is heavy." Sam mutters, as we walk, and I nod at him. That's for sure. "Are there any monsters out there that go specifically after kids?" I ask as we round the corner. "Oh yeah, many." Dean confirms my thoughts with an answer I'd rather not have. But, if I want to be a hunter, these cases are also important. Maybe even more important, saving kids from something evil might be the true reason why we do what we do.

In the waiting room, Dean takes the lead and calls out the name we just received from the doctor and a distraught looking man hesitantly raises his hand. We approach him and Dean introduces us, his tone gentle. The man walks with us towards the hall after having told us that both his children are in here and we find a place where we can have a more private conversation. The man sinks down on the red chairs against the walls. "I uh, I really should get back to my girls…" Is the first thing he says after that and I feel for him. Having your children in here, unconscious and sick, and not responding to antibiotics must be horrifying. "My sincerest apologies, sir. We really appreciate you talking to us." I tell him, slowly taking place next to him on one of the chairs. "Now, you said Mary was the oldest?" Sam takes over once I fall silent and the man nods. "Thirteen." He confirms miserably. "Okay, and she came down with it first, right? And then…" Sam continues and the man finishes his sentence. "Bethany, the next night." I let out a slow breath. "So, within twenty four hours?" I comment and the man glances at me. "I guess…" He mutters, clearly confused. He glances back at my brothers and sighs in discomfort. "Look, I already uh, already went through all this with the doctors." He then says, clearly not wanting to talk about it a second time. "I understand that this is hard to talk about sir, but we have to ask just a few more questions, okay?" I tell him, trying to sound as comforting as I can. Dean, who's been eying me, scrapes his throat and takes back over. "Yeah, how do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold, anything like that?" He asks and the man glances down. "No, we uh, we think it was an open window." He answers. "Both times?" Dean adds, motivating the man to continue. "The first time, I don't uh, I don't really remember, but the second time for sure. And I know I closed it before Bethany went to bed." The man explains, sounding very sure. "Do you think she opened it?" Sam asks and the man shakes his head. "It's a second story window with a ledge. No one else could have." He tells us and with that, our conversation is done. There are not many more questions to ask this man and it wouldn't be right either. So, we thank him for his time and then watch him walk back to the waiting room with tears in his eyes.

"You know, this might not be anything supernatural. It might just be pneumonia." Sam mutters as we're walking back down the corridor. "Maybe. Or maybe something opened that window." Dean retorts, seeming not sure about it. "Well, it is weird that the windows were open, especially since the dad closed them before his kids went to bed." I nod. "I don't know, but dad sent us down here for a reason. I think we might be barking up the right tree." Dean concludes, leading us around the corner. "I'll tell you one thing…" Sam starts and both Dean and me stop walking to glance at him. "What?" Dean asks curiously. "The guy we just talked to? I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes home." Sam finishes his sentence, raising his eyebrows expectantly at Dean. "Well, good thing I wanted to ditch these suits." Dean instantly catches his drift and we quickly exit the hospital, climbing back in the car. Dean and I have a heavy discussion about who's gonna go to the house while we drive around in search of a motel. He claims that breaking into a house with three people is way too risky and I try to argue that three pairs of eyes see more than two, which Sam heavily scoffs to. "You know what, you take her. I wanna find out the reason dad sent us here anyways and I will sure as hell be able to focus more without her yapping." Sam eventually states to Dean in exasperation. "She has been quite yappy today, yeah." Dean agrees with him and it annoys me greatly how they're both talking about me like I'm not here. "I've not been yappy…" I cross my arms with a huff, making them both laugh. "Sure, ya haven't." Dean shakes his head with a fond smile. Sam states that he'll just wait in the car with his laptop while Dean and I break in and we abandon our search for a motel quickly after that. It's not hard to figure out where the man we spoke to in the hospital lives and soon Dean has parked in front of a nice looking house, at the edge of town. It looks inviting and warm, making the tragedy that happened there feel even worse.

Dean hands me the UV light and takes the EMF meter himself, before we venture into the yard of the house. We don't know for sure that there's no mother involved in this family, so have to be careful anyways. The front door is locked, but once we've sneaked around to the back, we get lucky. "Dude probably left in a hurry…" Dean mutters as he opens the backdoor. "Yeah, poor man…" I agree, following Dean into the house. Since we don't need to look downstairs, we venture through the kitchen towards the staircase in the hallway and make our way up. "Which room you reckon is Bethany's?" Dean asks me with a slight grin, as we look at the three closed doors in the little upstairs hall. Two of 'm are just white and normal looking, one of 'm has pink glittery letters spelling out Bethany's name. It even looks like she drew some pictures around it herself, which is adorable. "Ah, man… I would've loved to have a door like that…" I whisper to Dean, approaching it and admiring the drawings for a second. "You're sixteen…" Dean drily comments from behind me. "When I was little, I mean." I explain, reaching for the doorknob to open it. "I mean, obviously I'd need my own room for that first, but still. When I'd watch those shows when I was little and saw girls with doors like this, I was always so jealous." I chuckle fondly to myself, before stepping into the little girls room. When Dean doesn't follow me, I turn around in confusion. He's still standing at the top of the staircase and has a pained look on his face. "Dean?" I question hesitantly. "Yeah, uh… you know, I just never uh, knew that…" He starts, clearly not sure what to say. I raise my eyebrows at him. "What? That I wanted a door like that?" I question with a laugh. "Yeah." Dean scrapes his throat awkwardly and approaches me, pushing the door further open. "I mean, you were never a 'girly girl' like that." He adds, looking everywhere but at me. I scoff. "Just because I wasn't a girly girl, doesn't mean I didn't like girly things." I state, having no idea why he's making such a big deal of this. "You know what, never mind. Stuff like that wasn't in the cards for me anyways, with a dad and two brothers." I chuckle again, before turning around and switching on my UV light. It stays silent for a moment, until Dean mutters something that I can barely hear. "What?" I ask him, absentmindedly scanning my light around. "I'm sorry you never got to have your own room." He repeats and that makes me look back at him again. His eyes are on me with that same pained look as before. "Even though those stickers and drawings are excruciatingly cringy, you should have been able to have that." He continues, glancing down at his EMF meter. "Dean…" I whisper softly, taking a step towards him. Dean abruptly changes his posture and lets out a cough, pushing down whatever was happening with him for a moment. "Anyways, come on, this room ain't gonna investigate itself. You take the right side." He approaches me, softly pushes me to the right and goes left himself. With a heavy sigh, I hold up my UV light and start to hold it to the closet. And then the doorpost, and the little bureau. Nothing turns up. "You getting anything?" I call out over my shoulder to Dean. "Nothin." He confirms with a sigh. I move over towards the other side and then come across the windows. The dad did say something about a window, so that might be a good place to get some evidence. It does turn out to be, but I only see it when I open the windows to scan the back of 'm. When I glance down, chills immediately go down my spine and my breathing hitches. "Well, that's just beyond creepy…" I mutter to myself as I stare down at a handprint on the windowsill. It's not a normal one either, it's pitch black with what looks like five long, bony fingers. "What?" Dean's heard me and I hear him approaching from behind me. "This." I mutter, waiting for him to join me and then pointing down. "It looks like it's literally rotted into the windowsill…" I stammer as Dean leans over with raised eyebrows to look at it closer. "Do you know of anything that leaves a handprint like that? I mean, I've never seen anything like that…" I say my thoughts out loud. Dean's face has hardened as he's staring at the handprint with squinted eyes. "Dean…" I bump his shoulder, confused by his reaction. Dean abruptly gets up and grabs my arm. "I know what this is and I know why we're here." Is all he says, before he starts dragging me back towards the stairs. "Wait, what? What do you mean you suddenly know?" I am very confused, but Dean glares at me and leads the way back down without saying another word. I almost have to jog to keep up with his long and hasty strides. "Dean!" I call out to him again, but he doesn't react and walks straight back to the car. "Get in." He tells me and I hastily jump into the backseat. Sam, caught off guard by our sudden return, looks up in surprise. "Found anything?" He questions. Dean lets out a heavy sigh as he takes place behind the wheel and then looks at him. "I know why dad sent us here." He repeats what he said to me earlier, with a tortured look in his eyes. "He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job." He then continues, after a heavy pause. Sam's looking at him with raised eyebrows and I'm at a loss for what he means. "What?" Sam tries to ask for more information, but even he doesn't get any. Dean's face hardens and he just turns on the car. "We need to get to a motel." Is all he says, before driving off. Both me and Sam attempt to ask for more information, and eventually get some. Dean tells us we're after a shtriga and that he's seen dad try to hunt one before, a long time ago when I'd been about four.

Darkness has spread outside and I lazily stare at the streetlights as we pass them. It doesn't take long before we've found a motel and Dean drives onto the parking lot. The motel doesn't look very inviting, but I've seen worse. The office is still open. As we're getting out of the car, Sam can't help but ask another question about what Dean just told us. "So uh, what the hell is a shtriga?" Dean closes his door. "It's kind of like a witch, I think. I don't know much about 'm." He answers, moving towards the trunk to open it. "Well, I've never heard of it." Sam continues, almost sounding a little offended. "I don't think I've read about it in dad's journal either…" I mutter. I know that journal by heart now and I'm pretty sure I've never read about a shtriga. "He would've written about it, if he'd come across it before, right? He's done so with every other thing that caught his eye…" I glance at Sam, who shrugs at me. Dean's face is stoic as he opens the trunk. "Like I said, dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about twelve years ago. You were there, you don't remember?" He states, swiftly glancing at Sam. "No." Sam answers earnestly. "Well, I certainly don't." I chip in. "You were four…" Dean says drily, shooting my argument down. "And I guess he caught wind of the things in Fitzburg now, and kicked us the coordinates." He then adds, glancing down at his hands. He still looks highly uncomfortable, like something is bothering him, but I know better than to ask him what it is. "So wait, this…" Sam's lost the word of the creature again and Dean reminds him it's a shtriga. "Right, you think it's the same one dad hunted before?" Sam continues his question and I'm highly skeptical about that. "That would be one hell of a coincidence…" I mutter, more to myself. "Yeah, well, maybe." Dean mutters, closing up the trunk and initiating a walk towards the office of the motel. "Hold on, if dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?" Sam asks, now sounding skeptical himself and I have to give that to him. Not many creatures survive when dad goes hunting them. "Cause it got away." Is Dean's simply answer. "Got away?" Sam repeats, still skeptical. "Yeah, Sammy, it happens." Dean turns around to him and sounds slightly irritated. "Not very often." Sam states, stopping for a second. "Well, I don't know what to tell ya, man. Maybe dad didn't have his wheaties that morning." Dean throws his hands in the air defensively, turning back around. Sam eyes me and I can see he's also doubting Dean's story. "Do you remember anything else about that?" I dare to ask him, staying by Sam's side. "Nothing, I was a kid, all right?" Is Dean's second defensive answer and we watch him open the door to the office, stalking inside.

"Something is off, right?" I ask Sam as soon as Dean's out of hearing range. "Ya bet." Sam agrees immediately, reaching for his phone. Both of us don't know what else we can do right now and just impatiently wait for Dean to check us in. When I glance past Sam through the window inside, I can see a boy has appeared by the counter Dean was waiting at. He looks about ten years of age. He's leaning his elbows on the counter he's only just able to reach and appears to be in conversation with Dean. "They get younger and younger these days." I joke with a laugh, but Sam's zoned out and scrolling through his phone. A woman then comes up from behind us and swiftly moves past us, inside the office. Probably the mom and the one who should be in charge. She indeed engages in a conversation with Dean and soon the boy moves back towards where he came from. Soon, Dean comes out with our room key and in silence, we get our stuff out of the trunk to move in. I immediately claim the bathroom to wash the hospital smell off of me, ignoring Sam's loud complaining that I have to hurry up and that there are other people who would like to use the bathroom sometimes. Out of spite, I move slowly and take my time, resulting in Sam being thoroughly annoyed when I do come back out. He snares something at me, before sliding past me and with a grin I move towards the bed where I've dropped my bag on. I almost turn it upside down in search of my favorite sweater and get pissed off when I am not able to find it. "Dean, did you, by any chance, steal my sweater when you went to the laundromat yesterday?" I look up at where he's standing, by the kitchen, impatiently waiting for the coffee to be done brewing. He scoffs loudly. "You mean my sweater?" He retorts, not looking up. "No, I mean the sweater that I stole from you and is therefore mine." I correct him with a grin, making him chuckle. "Oh, is that how that works?" He catches my look and raises his eyebrows at me teasingly. "Obviously…" I mutter in annoyance, reaching for his bag that's on the second bed. "Hey, you better leave my stuff alone!" He snaps at me, pointing a strict finger at me. "Not until I've got my sweater." I retort, quickly opening his bag. Dean's about to charge at me with a playful war cry, when Sam returns from the bathroom and loudly claims that he's not in the mood for our shenanigans and that he needs to do some research. That stops Dean from charging and makes him return to his coffee with a grumble. It also gives me the chance to steal back the sweater, which I've found in his bag quickly. I ignore Dean's warning about needing to use my own sweaters and cuddle up on my bed, grabbing my phone to take some time to answer my messages. I purposely do not open my email. I know I'll have to look at the results of my exams some time, but it's not today.

It's peaceful and quiet for a while, until Sam sighs and looks up from his laptop. "Well, you were right." He says, letting out a chuckle and glancing at Dean. "It wasn't easy to find, but you are right. Shtriga is a kind of witch." He continues. Dean, who's sipping his coffee, looks up at him expectantly. "They're Albanian, the legends about 'm date back to ancient Rome. They feed off spiritus vitae." At those Latin words, my interests are also peaked and I decide to abandon my phone. "Spiritus what now?" I ask curiously. "Vitae. It's Latin, it translates to 'breath of life'. Kind of like your life force, or essence." Sam explains to me. Dean, who's started writing that down, lets out a breath. "Didn't the doctor say the kids' bodies were wearing out?" He suggests. "It's a thought. You know, she takes your vitality maybe your immune system goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold." Sam confirms that suggestion and I scrunch up my nose. "Literally sucking the life out of you…" I conclude, a shiver running down my spine. That's terrifying. "Anyway, shtriga's can feed off of anyone, but they prefer…" Sam can't finish his sentence. "Children." Dean interrupts him, face falling again. "Yeah." Sam confirms. "Probably because they have a stronger life force. And get this, shtriga's are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man." He continues, reading it straight from his laptop. "Well, that sucks…" I mumble, sinking a little further down into my bed to make myself more comfortable. "No, that's not true." Dean disagrees, putting down his coffee and walking over to the second bed. "She's vulnerable when she feeds." He adds, grabbing his bag. "What?" Sam asks him in confusion. "If you catch her when she's eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron. Uh, buck shots or rounds I think." Dean explains, grabbing a book from his bag and walking back to the kitchen. "How do you know that?" I ask as I watch him walk back. "Dad told me, I remember." He answers me absentmindedly, opening the book he just grabbed to flip through it. "Oh… huh… so uh, anything else dad might have mentioned?" Sam, who's also caught off guard by that answer, looks expectantly at Dean. "No, that's it." Dean lightly assures him. Sam shakes his head slightly and glances at me knowingly. We're once again both having a feeling that something is not right here. Dean is not telling us something. "What?" Dean sees us looking at each other and gives us a frown. "Nothing…" Sam tells him, glancing back at his laptop. "Okay, so assuming we can kill it when it eats, we still have to find the thing first." He then mutters, standing up from the sofa and abandoning his laptop. Its only now that I see him fully, that I notice that he's wearing the ugliest, purple shirt with a weird drawing of a dog on it. I can't help but snigger. Sam hears me and glances at me in surprise. "What?" He challenges. "Oh, nothing, nothing… just wondering where in God's name you found that shirt…" I chuckle playfully. Sam glances down at his shirt for a second and then squints his eyes at me. "Shut up." He tells me, before looking back at Dean. "As I was saying, finding this thing ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtriga's take on a human disguise when they're not hunting." He continues and that puzzles both me and Dean. "What kind of human disguise?" Dean asks. "Historically, something innocuous. Could be anything, but usually a feeble old woman, which might be how the 'witches as old crones' legend got started." Sam answers him. I shiver at the thought of those old, feeble women we all know as witches. They've been in Disney movies, I've seen them since I was a baby. Dean glances up and something seems to be dawning on him. "Hold on a second…" He mutters to himself, dashing towards the table where he grabs a map. "What?" Sam and I ask in unison. "Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims." Dean mutters, putting the map on the counter. I'm too intrigued to stay where I am and quickly climb off the bed to go and look. Dean's indeed put little red crosses on the map, supposedly where all the victims lived. "Now, these are the houses that have been hit so far, and dead center?" Dean expectantly looks up at both me and Sam and we see it immediately. "The hospital." I murmur. "The hospital." Dean confirms. "When we were there, I saw a patient. An old woman." He says, looking back down. Sam glances at him sarcastically. "An old person, huh?" He starts. "Yeah." Dean answers just as serious, not having noticed Sam's tone yet. "From the hospital?" Sam continues, making me chuckle. Dean looks up, glaring at Sam. "Phew, better call the coast guard." Sam sniggers and turns around to me with a grin. Dean's not amused. "Well, listen, smart-ass, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall." He explains in irritation and Sam's smile falters. Dean expectantly raises his eyebrows, glad to have made his point. "That's bad, right? As in, anti-Christ?" I question, just to confirm. Now Dean's the one who's chuckling. "Yeah, dumb-ass." He retorts. "Okay, so back to the hospital?" Sam questions and Dean gives him a short nod. "Yeah, but let's wait a little longer so we can be sure we get her while she's feeding." He concludes and puts the map back down. "Are we even sure that this time it's an old woman?" I ask, walking back over to my bed and sitting down. "No, not for sure. But, old people are very common in a hospital and mostly perceived as none threatening, so it would be the obvious choice." Sam explains to me, reaching for his bag. "Touche." I nod, leaning back against the headboard. Sam goes into the bathroom to change into other clothes and I try to get Dean to take me out shooting, since there is still some time left, but he simply refuses. Claiming that this thing we're hunting is dangerous and if in this town, very close by. "It hunts children, remember?" He adds to that when he sees my disappointed glance. "Exactly. I'm not a child." I point out to him, crossing my arms. "You are, Skye. A very annoying, sixteen year old one, but a child none the less." Dean shuts down my argument with a single glare. "Well, I definitely have a stronger life force then you two." I complain loudly, noticing there's no room left for more discussion about this. To that, Dean darkly chuckles. When I'm on my way to get back to my bed and make a move to crawl under the covers, Dean stops me. "What do you think you're doing?" He asks me with a frown. "Uh, lying down so I can chill, obviously." I answer with a roll of my eye. "Get up, you're coming with." Is all he says to me and that confused me deeply. "Excuse me?" I gape at him. "You heard me." Is all he says to that, turning back around. Sam, who's coming back out of the bathroom and heard our conversation, also seems confused. "If it hunts children, then why the hell are we taking her?" He asks, pointing his thumb at me. "Cause there's a way higher risk with her staying here, then if she's by our side. Trust me." Dean shortly explains. Sam shakes his head and then eyes me knowingly. Once again, Dean's clearly not telling us something.

About an hour later, Sam and Dean deem it late enough to go back to the hospital and Dean wasn't lying. He tells me to put on my jacket and is actually preparing to take me. I'm not complaining, as I happily shrug on my jacket, but it is weird. Sam's also not happy about it, but Dean's having that look on his face again and he doesn't instigate another discussion about it.

Dean drives us back and we slip through the entrance, all on high alert. I can feel the gun sticking into my back from where I stuck it in my jeans and am still euphoric that Dean even gave me a gun. He normally doesn't really do that, although it is happening more frequently. I am getting better at shooting, so that might be the reason why. The hospital is quite empty this late at night, which is good. We're just venturing down the hall on the second floor, when we hear a nurse say goodbye to the doctor we spoke to earlier today. Tension is instantly there, he's definitely not supposed to see us. "Quick, turn around." Dean hisses to me and we scoot closer to the wall. Sam and Dean both turn their backs to the hallway next to us and shelter me from any sight. With held breaths we wait until the doctor has passed us and since it stays silent, that means he hasn't seen us. Dean turns around and peeks down the hall, which is now empty. He nods at Sam and we sneak around the corner, making our way down another hall. Thankfully, no one else seems to be here now and we don't bump into anyone. "There." Dean spots the room where he said he saw that old woman. The door is closed, the number 237 on a plaque below a tiny window. Sam leans over to peek through it, but can't see anything cause it's too dark. He gives us a knowing look and puts his hand on the doorknob. I can feel the tension returning in my body as I stand behind Dean. Dean doesn't seem that tense, he just reaches for his gun and holds it up, face serious. Sam frowns at him and shakes his head to me when I want to grab my gun as well. "Precaution." Dean mumbles as an explanation. Sam nods, before turning the doorknob and slowly opening the door. He leans inside and Dean's right there with his gun. They're both blocking my sight, so I lean forward. Dean moves further into the room and there she is. The old woman, sitting in her wheelchair with her back to us. Her long, gray hair hanging over the back. She doesn't seem to be moving and Dean continues his slow and sneaky approach. She's possibly deaf, cause she doesn't seem to hear us and doesn't react to us being there in the room. I also step inside and Sam closes the door behind me. When he reaches for his gun, I also grab mine and hold it up towards the woman, fingers off the trigger so I don't accidentally shoot anything, like last time. And while holding my breath, I watch Dean lean closer and closer to the old woman. He's facing her now and she still doesn't seem to have any idea that we're here. Until she does, screaming out randomly. So sudden and so loud, that Dean almost flies into the wall in surprise and Sam grabs my arm so tight it actually hurts. My heart is pumping so hard I'm almost scared it'll jump out of my chest. After the woman has yelled out "who's there?", she continues with accusations of us trying to steal her stuff and that everyone is always stealing around here. She's now glancing around and her voice sounds raspy. Sam quickly turns on the lights and glances at Dean, who looks like he got scared so bad he's still recovering, wiping a hand over his face. "No, ma'am, we're maintenance. We're sorry. We thought you were sleeping." Sam quickly calls through the room. "Ah, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open…" She starts weirdly laughing and I'm getting more creeped out by the second. Dean and Sam exchange knowing looks and Dean seems to be recovered enough to straighten back up. "And fix that crucifix, would ya..?" The woman stops laughing and points her thumb to the upside down crucifix Dean had mentioned earlier. Dean quickly turns around to it. "I've asked four damn times already." The woman bellows and Sam's face lightens up. I let out a deep breath. If she's asking to fix the crucifix, then she might not be our culprit. And indeed, when Dean taps against the upside down cross, it falls down and fixes itself instantly. Dean stares at it and then turns around to stare at us, looking very done with the situation. We quickly apologize again and make our way back outside. "Well, I don't think this was our shtriga." Sam chuckles as we're hurrying down the hallways, back outside and back to the impala. As soon as we're out, Sam bursts out laughing and Dean shakes his head, ordering us to get in the car. "Goddamnit." He curses, an amused grin already seeping through his irritated expression. "I don't think I've seen you jump that high, like ever." I giggle, Sam's laughter is catchy and is making me laugh too. "She scared the living daylights out of me." Dean confirms, starting the car and driving away. Sam laughs harder. "I was sleeping with my peepers open?" He screeches, the thought of that woman yelling that out only making it more funny to him. Dean huffs. "I almost smoked that hag, I swear. It's not funny." He comments, trying to ignore Sam's laughter. "Oh, man… you should have seen your face, Dean. We did, it was hilarious." Sam manages to get out, his laughter dying down a bit. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it off. Now we're back to square one." Dean grumbles at him, his eyes on the road. He is right about that, though. We are back to square one and that makes both Sam and my smiles fade a little. We bicker a little about who else it could be, but the truth is that there are endless possibilities and we have no damn clue how to even start.

It's pretty late at night when we arrive back at our motel room and from the way my eyes itch, I can tell how tired I am. It does help with a rather good few hours of sleep.

When we exit our motel room the next day, to go and get some breakfast, Dean spots the kid he spoke to yesterday. Sitting on a bench right outside of the office, looking pretty down. "Hang on…" He says to us, before walking away and towards the kid. Sam and I glance at each other and then quickly follow him over there. The kid's staring at his hands and doesn't even seem to notice us. "Hey, what's wrong?" Dean asks warmly, crouching down so he's at eye level with the kid. The kid gives him a tortured look. "My brother is sick." He then says. "What, the little guy?" Dean asks him in surprise. The kid nods. "Pneumonia." He then states miserably and that instantly alerts all of us. "He's in the hospital, it's my fault." The kid continues, sniffing as if he's on the verge of crying. "Ah, come on, how?" Dean warmly asks him and I also crouch down, to make an attempt to make the kid feel more at ease. "I should've made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched." The kid explains, glancing back at his hands and clearly trying very hard not to cry. Dean lets out a sigh and I glance at Sam, my heart aching for the kid. "Listen to me. I promise you that this is not your fault, okay?" Dean starts telling the kid, a fierce determination in his eyes. The kid seems to disagree. "It's my job to look after him." He states, as if the pressure of the whole world is on his shoulders. I let out a sad sigh, the statements of this kid reminding me a little too much of my own big brother. When I glance sideways at Sam, I can see he feels it too. The office door opens and a very distraught woman comes rushing through, bags and a pillow in her hands. She's breathing heavily and looking very stressed. "Micheal." She tells the kid, approaching the car and opening the door. The kid stands up to rush to his mother. "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." The mother tells him, dropping all the stuff onto the backseat. "I'm going with you." Micheal states, but the mother turns around. "Not now, Micheal." She tells him in a pleading tone. "But I gotta see Asher!" Micheal protests and its clear the mother has no time for an argument. "Hey, Micheal." Dean calls out to him, approaching the kid and Sam and I follow him. "Hey, I know how you feel- I'm a big brother too- but you gotta go easy on your mom right now, okay?" He warmly tells Micheal, who looks up at him sadly. The mother, who's still in a rush, drops her bag and yells out 'damnit' in frustration. "Oh, no worries, I got it." I tell her, quickly dashing forward to grab her bag from the floor. She gratefully takes it, thanking me. "Listen, you're in no condition to drive, why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital?" Dean offers kindly, stepping forward. "No, I couldn't possibly…" The mom protests, her eyes wide and scared. "It's no trouble, I insist." Dean tells her, taking another step so she can focus on him. Relief appears on her features and with a sigh she hands him her car keys. "Thanks." She whispers, reaching for Micheal and giving him a hasty kiss. "Be good." She whispers to him, before getting into the passenger seat. With a heavy feeling I watch Dean help her in and then turn around to us. "We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?" He mutters to Sam, before walking around the car and getting inside. Sam lets out a heavy sigh as we watch him drive off, a sad Micheal staying behind with us. When the car is out of sight, the kid turns to us and tells us he's going to take care of the motel while his mom is gone, and quickly dashes back inside. "Well, this got heavy quick…" I let out after a short silence, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "It was really close last night, you realize that, right?" Sam tells me, grabbing my arm and leading me back to our room. "Yeah." I nod, a shiver going down my spine. The shtriga was at our motel last night, it couldn't really get much closer than that.

Sam ends up dragging me with him to the library, claiming that we need to find out if this is the same shtriga as dad hunted all those years ago. When I want to let him do that by himself, he fiercely disagrees and suddenly claims that Dean was right to take me with him before. This shtriga is triggering all sorts of issues and protectiveness and I don't particularly like it. What I also don't really desire, is going to a library to spend hours on a boring search for more information, but since Sam refuses to leave me, I tag along.

The public library is not far away and Sam takes place behind one of the computers, sending me off on a search through every lore section to try and find more information. It turns out to be futile, cause in the end he finds what he needs to find on the computer. Together we call Dean. "Hey, how's the kid?" Sam asks, right after Dean picked up and puts the phone on speaker, so I can hear. "He's not good." Is all Dean says to that, his tone heavy. "Well, we're at the library, trying to find out as much as we can about this shtriga." Sam answers him, his eyes on the information in front of him. "Good, you took her?" Is Dean's short reaction. "Obviously." Sam mutters, not looking at me as he says that. "Okay, what do you got?" Dean asks. "Bad news Dean. It's not good." I say, letting out a sigh. "Yeah, I started with Fort Douglas, around the time you said dad was there?" Sam takes over. "Yeah?" Dean motions for him to continue. "Same deal. Before that, there was uh, there was Odenville, before that North Havenbrook, and Brockway. Every fifteen to twenty years it hits a new town." Sam explains, shaking his head. "Dean, this thing just got here and it's just getting started." I mutter, glancing over the information once again. "Yeah, in all these other places it goes on for months, dozens of kids before the shtriga finally moves on. The kids just… languish in comas and then they die." Sam follows up, his face contorted. "How far back does this thing go?" Dean asks after a short silence, his voice raspy. "Uh, I don't know. The earliest mention I could find is this place called 'Black River Falls' back in the eighteen nineties… huh, talk about a horror show…" Sam answers, huffing when he's combing through the articles on the computer. "Whoa…" Sam and I then both let out when he pulls up an old photograph of a team of doctors standing together around a kid. "What? Sam?" Dean asks through the phone, instantly on edge. "Hold on… we're looking at a photo right now of a bunch of doctors standing around a kids bed…" Sam describes to him what we're seeing. "Isn't that… isn't that doctor Hydecker?" I question in confusion, pointing at the man in the photo. He doesn't look a day older then when we saw him at the hospital yesterday. "And?" Dean doesn't get it yet. "And, this picture was taken in eighteen ninety three…" Sam tells him, a small smile on his face. "Did we just find the shtriga?" I whisper to him, relief washing over me. That would make this job a hundred times easier. "You sure?" Dean asks over the phone. "Yeah, yeah, absolutely." Sam confirms and after that, Dean hangs up the phone. I blankly stare at the phone, knowing Dean's probably pretty angry right now. I mean, the doctor that is supposed to heal and protect these kids, is the one harming them. And doing it right under everyone's noses.

"Come on, we need to get back." Sam tells me hurriedly, shutting off the computer. "What's Dean gonna do?" I dare to ask, jumping up out of my seat. "Nothing yet, he knows that's stupid. He'll come back for a game plan first." Sam assures me, shrugging on his jacket. We rush back outside and Sam races us back to the motel. We've just entered, when Dean comes storming in, indeed looking very pissed off. "The damn doctor? Really?" He cries out to Sam, not even bothering to greet us. "I should have thought of this before, doctor is a perfect disguise. You're trusted, you can even control the whole thing!" Sam reacts, just as pissed off. Dean grunts, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it on the table. "That son of a bitch." He mutters through gritted teeth, stalking towards the window. "I'm surprised you didn't gank him right there." I admit, sitting down on my bed. "Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not gonna open fire in a freaking pediatrics' ward." He tells me, raising his eyebrows. "Good call." Sam nods. "Second of all, it wouldn't have done any good. Cause the bastard is bulletproof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing, cause I probably would've just burned a clip in him off of principle alone." Dean rages on, shaking his head. "Getting wise in your old age, Dean." Sam mutters, leaning against the wall near the kitchen. "Damn right, cause now I know how we're gonna get it." Dean glances from me to Sam, a determined look on his face. "What do you mean?" Sam asks him, eyebrows raised. "The shtriga, it works through siblings, right?" Dean points out. "Right." Sam and me answer in unison. "Well, last night…" Dean expectantly looks at Sam. "It went after Asher." Sam reacts. "So, I'm thinking tonight it's probably gonna come after Micheal." Dean continues. "Crap, that's right." I gasp, jumping up from the bed. "We gotta get him out of here." Sam nods, also instantly in protection mode. "No. No, that would blow the whole deal." Dean says to us and for a second, I'm too stunned to speak. "What?" Sam asks Dean, also in complete surprise. "Yeah." Dean reacts, as if what he's saying is not completely bonkers. "You wanna use the kid as bait? Are you nuts? No, forget it. That's out of the question." Sam, thankfully, goes off on Dean about how crazy even thinking about that is and I have to say, it's pretty out of character. Dean would normally never use a kid as bait. "No, that's not out of the question, Sam. It's the only way. If this thing disappears, it could be years before we get another chance." Dean argues, also making quite a strong point. "Micheal's a kid, I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook!" Sam protests, getting angry. "Dad did not sent me here to walk away." Dean tells him, fire spewing from his eyes and I'm getting more confused with the second. "Hang on, send you here? What are you talking about?" I interrupt their angry discussion when I hear Dean say that and take a few steps forward. "He didn't send you here, he send us here…" Sam agrees with me, holding a finger up to Dean. "This isn't about you, Sam!" Dean cries out, ignoring my questions and turning around, almost desperate. "I'm the one that screwed up, all right! It's my fault and there's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me…" He continues, his back now to us. "What?" I stammer, having no clue what he's talking about. "What are you saying, Dean? How is this your fault?" Sam throws at Dean, at a loss for what the hell is happening right now. A silence rises as me and Sam stare at Dean's tense back, he hasn't turned around to us yet. Sam lets out a heavy sigh, swiftly glances at me and then back to Dean. "Dean… you've been hiding something from the get-go…" He then starts, tone softer. "Since when does dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away?" He continues and I watch Dean slowly take a seat on the sofa with sad eyes. Something is heavily burdening my brother and I hate to see him like this. "Dean, come on… what is this about?" I try to ask him, sitting back down on my bed, a heavy feeling in my stomach. "Yeah, come on, talk to us, man… tell me what's going on…" Sam's tone is pleading, as he looks at Dean. Dean's staring at the ground, his whole body tense. He stays silent for a while, but then decides to start talking. "Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. It was, uh, the third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls, man. I needed to get some air…" Sam and I stay quiet as he talks to us about what apparently had happened that night. How he'd been sitting there in front of the TV, how Sam had already been put to bed by him and was peacefully sleeping and how I had been at Pastor Jim's. How he had checked everything and then had decided to go out. He'd locked the doors and had gone to the reception, where he had played some videogames to distract himself until the reception was closing, which had only been about half an hour. How he'd then walked back to the room, had opened the door and then seen that the door to Sam's room had closed and he had heard a weird whooshing noise. He'd gone up to look and had found the shtriga we're hunting now, floating right above Sam's bed, ready to suck out his soul or life or whatever. He'd frozen in fear, had grabbed the shotgun that was next to the door and then dad had come bursting in, screaming at him to get out of the way, before unloading his whole clip into the shtriga, which had scared it away. Dad had rushed to Sam's bed to see if he'd been okay and thankfully he'd gotten there on time, cause Sam had woken up and had appeared to be fine. How dad then had been furious with Dean and had asked what had happened. Dean had explained that he'd gone out for just a few seconds and dad had lectured him about how he had failed to protect Sammy.

"Dad just… grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at pastor Jim's about three hours away. By the time he got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga had disappeared. It was just uh, gone…" Dean's voice is raw and he glances to the ground, clearly very upset about this whole thing. Sam, who'd gone to sit next to him a few minutes ago, stays silent and I also don't know what to say. "It uh, never surfaced, until now. You know, dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask… but, he uh, he looked at me different, you know. Which was worse. Not that I blame him, he gave me an order and I didn't listen. I almost got you killed…" Dean inhales deeply, shaking his head and sounding like he thoroughly hates himself, which makes me incredibly sad. "You were just a kid…" Sam tries in a soft voice, but Dean stops him. "Don't. Don't… Dad knew this was unfinished business for me, he sent me here to finish it." Dean doesn't look at Sam as he says that and I furiously blink away the tears that are prickling in my eyes. I always hated the pressure dad put on Dean when we were growing up, but Dean always seemed to be handling it so well. Right now, I'm not so sure about that anymore. Sam decides to skip past this to give Dean some room. "But, using Micheal… I don't know, Dean. I mean, how about one of us hides under the cover? We'll be the bait?" Sam suggests, but Dean shakes his head. "No, that won't work… its gotta get close enough to feed, it'll see us. Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid." Dean concludes, standing up and taking a few steps. Sam throws me a look and I let out a sigh, hating everything about this, but knowing this might be our only shot. And I also know Dean won't let this shtriga take any more lives, he'd rather die himself.

We end up going to the office building to find Micheal and Dean and Sam try to explain to him what is happening. The kid has been brought up right, cause he doesn't believe us at all and stops Dean to threaten to call the cops, his face contorted. "Hang on a second, just listen to me… you have to believe me, okay? This thing came through the window and it attacked your brother." Dean tells him hurriedly and as soon as he talks about Asher, Micheal stops and indeed seems to be listening. Dean immediately continues. "Now, I've seen it, cause it attacked my brother once too." He continues, leaning over the counter, closer to Micheal. Micheal glances at Sam, who's right beside Dean and lets out a deep breath, before putting the phone he was still holding, back. He hesitantly looks at Dean. "This thing, is it, like… it has this long, black robe?" He then says and I instantly realize that he's seen it himself and probably thought he was crazy. "You've seen it, haven't you? Last night?" I ask him softly, nodding encouragingly at him. Micheal slowly nods at me. "I thought I was having a nightmare." He confesses. Dean lets out a deep breath. "I'd give anything not to tell you this, but sometimes nightmares are real." He then tells the kid. "So, why are you telling me?" Micheal asks him, frowning. "Cause we need your help." Dean mutters. "My help?" The boy seems at a loss and I don't blame him. "We can kill it, me and those two behind me, it's what we do. But we can't do it without you…" Dean continues, only confusing the boy more. "What? No…" Micheal splutters. "Micheal, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher and its gonna keep hurting kids, unless we stop it, you understand me?" Dean fiercely continues, but it's already too late. The story is too unreal for Micheal to go with it and he ends up shouting at us to leave him alone, once again threatening to call the cops. We retreat back to our motel room, all deeply frustrated. "Well, that went crappy… now what?" Dean cries out, his face angry. Sam, who's plopped down on the bed, scoffs. "Well, what did you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid." He summarizes. I sigh, leaning against the wall. "We could always…" I'm about to give another suggestion, but a sharp knock on our door confuses us all. "Get away from there." Dean instantly snaps at me and I hastily step back. Dean stalks to the door himself and when he opens it, no one other than Micheal stands in front of it. Wide eyed and clearly scared. Dean glances at him warily. "If you kill it, will Asher get better?" Micheal asks him directly, not bothering with pleasantries. Dean glances back to Sam and me, before turning back to the boy. "Honestly, we don't know." He answers the kid truthfully. "You said you were a big brother?" The kid continues. "Yeah." Dean confirms softly. "You take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?" Micheal asks and my heart fills with warmth as I hear him speak like that. Dean's reaction is even more loving. "Yeah, I would." He whispers, but it's not silent enough and me and Sam both hear it. I glance at Sam, who has a small, loving smile on his face as he looks at Dean. "Me too." Micheal sighs and then looks up. "I'll help." He concludes, making Dean nod at him and glance back at Sam and me with a proud look on his face.

We let Micheal into our room, answer all the questions he still has as far as we can and then construct a plan with him. A plan that'll make sure he won't get hurt. Dean has a camera in the trunk that he can use to ensure we can see everything that's happening and Micheal then takes us with him towards the office building, to show us his room. Darkness has already spread outside and its getting quite late. Dean hangs the camera in Micheals room and Sam and me crawl behind the laptop in the other room, to ensure that we have a good enough vision. "Like this?" Dean calls out when he's connected the camera and we can see him on the laptop. "Little to the right!" Sam calls back and we watch Dean adjust the camera on screen. We can also hear him loud and clear. "What do I do?" We hear Micheal ask Dean, sounding pretty nervous. "Stay under the covers." Dean tells him, walking towards his bed and sitting down with him. "And if it shows up?" Micheal's looking at him with wide eyes. "We'll be right in the next room, and we're gonna come in with guns. So, as soon as we do, you roll off this bed and crawl under it." Dean explains to him, sounding reassuring. "Well, what if you shoot me?" Micheal asks and it's almost like he's unconsciously looking for reasons not to do this. I can't really blame him for that. Dean chuckles. "I won't shoot you, I'm a good shot. So is my brother. And the one who isn't a good shot, is not getting a gun." He then answers Micheal. "Hey…" I scoff at the laptop, making Sam laugh. "We're not gonna fire until you are clear, okay?" Dean continues on the screen, trying to reassure Micheal, who's still nervously looking at him. "Have you heard a gunshot before?" Dean then asks him. "Like in the movies?" The kid reacts, face scrunched up. "It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. I want you to stay under the bed and cover your ears. And do not come out until we say so, you understand?" Dean explains to him and Micheal nods. "Are you sure you wanna do this? You don't have to, it's okay. I won't be mad." Dean then checks in with Micheal one last time, but the kids pretty brave and insists that he can do this, repeating that he just doesn't wanna get shot. "We're not gonna let anything happen to you." Dean promises him in a very familiar tone, one I've heard him speak in millions of times, making me smile softly.

Dean eventually moves back to our room and we take guard by the laptop, where Micheal's dark room is visible to us. The boy has closed his eyes and has surely fallen asleep by now. He's breathing evenly and looks quite peaceful, which is weird, knowing what is to come. Dean's face is focused and tense as he stares at the laptop screen. There's been no movement other than Micheal's occasional turning as he sleeps.

"What time is it?" Dean breaks the silence after what feels like hours and I sit back up, so Sam can use the arm I was leaning against, to look at his watch. "Three." Sam answers, suppressing a yawn. Dean gives him a short nod, turning his attention back on the laptop. "Are you sure the iron rounds are gonna work?" I can't help but ask again, there is a little boy's life at stake. Dean swiftly glances at me. "Consecrated iron rounds, puppy. And yeah, it's what dad used last time." He assures me and I let out a soft breath, trusting him and trusting that he knows what he's doing. "Hey Dean, I'm sorry." Sam then says out of the blue and both me and Dean look at him in surprise. "For what?" Dean asks him. Sam lets out a sigh. "Ah, you know. I've really given you a lot of crap for always following dad's orders. But, I know why you do it." Sam explains what he means, glancing down. It's supposed to be a sweet gesture, but Dean's not very good at these things. "Oh god, kill me now…" He mutters, looking away. I let out a chuckle, leaning my tired head back on Sam's arm. Sam also chuckles and leaves it at that, trusting that Dean heard him even though he didn't acknowledge it. Dean, who's eyes were back on the screen, suddenly tenses. "Wait, look…" He sits up, pointing at the screen. There, by the window of Micheal's room, the branches that were visible from outside have taken on another form. That of a long, bony arm, witch branch like, long fingers. Shivers run down my spine when I see it and by the looks of it, Micheal wasn't sleeping at all. His eyes are open and he's staring at the window, having seen it too. The long hand moves towards the window and a few seconds later, the window slides up with a creepy, squeaking noise. Dean and Sam both immediately reach for their guns, staring intently at the screen. Waiting. In Micheal's room, a figure has entered through the window and I have to say, it looks terrifying. It's standing up, near the bed and even though it has the form of a human, its wearing a black cloak and looks more like a reaper. A rattling noise is coming from it. "Now?" Sam hisses at Dean. "Not yet." Dean snaps back, eyes never leaving the screen. Micheal's face has contorted as he's watching the hooded figure glide closer to him and I'm sure he's just as terrified as I am. "Dean…" I mutter when I see the camera feed is getting less clear, like something is interfering with it. "Hold on…" Dean tells me, grabbing his gun tighter. On the feed, the hooded figure has now reached Micheal and is bending towards the poor kid, ready to suck his life out of him. Long hands hovering over him. "Dean…" I hiss again, my heart pounding in my chest. "Now!" Dean jumps from his chair and he and Sam rush to the door, bursting through it. I see them come in on the camera. "Micheal, get down!" Dean roars and as soon as Micheal has rolled off the bed, both my brother start shooting at the Shtriga without any hesitation. Their shots loud, echoing through the room. The shtriga, clearly caught by surprise, just hovers where it was, screeching loudly, as bullet after bullet hits it. Then, all of a sudden, the figure crashes down and seems to have disappeared. There are just a few clouds of dust where it was just standing. "Micheal?" I hear Dean call out and I quickly dash towards Micheal's room, sprinting inside. "Micheal, you alright?" Dean repeats. "Yeah." Micheal's small voice comes from under the bed and I bend over in relief when I hear his confirmation that he's okay. "Just sit tight." Dean tells him, before raising his gun in the air and marching into the room, to where the shtriga has disappeared. Sam holds his finger up to me to tell me to stay put, before moving after Dean. I watch them approach the corner, holding my breath. Dean spots something lying there by the bed and just as he looks at Sam, all hell breaks loose. The shtriga appears to still be up and alive and flashes upright, right into Dean's face. I let out a terrified scream as I watch Dean get floored by the thing, completely caught off guard and then the shtriga appears right in front of Sam. Within a second, it has blown Sam's gun out of his hands and has thrown him across the room. "SAM!" I scream as I watch Sam fly against the wall and collapse onto the floor with a loud grunt. And my scream caught the shtriga's attention. It was mid attack on Sam, when it suddenly moves back up and the shrunken, white face under that black hood moves in my direction. The face that is under the black hood is even more terrifying than the creature itself and frozen with fear, I stare at it. Then, its suddenly right in front of me, scaring the living daylights out of me and making me scream so loud I'm sure the whole neighborhood must have heard. "SKYE!" I hear Sam yell for me, but I can't see him anymore, as the shtriga's attack is now on me. An invisible force throws me off my feet and back towards the other room, where I collapse onto the floor, grunting in sudden pain. I have no time to get up, cause the shtriga followed me and its long, black hands close themselves around my throat, squeezing so hard I'm sure it could break my neck. I can't scream anymore, let alone breathe and my whole body enters panic mode. The shtriga's floating above me and its hooded face is now right above mine. I'm desperately trying to claw at its hands, fiercely trying to breathe, but no air gets through. Its killing me and I'm highly aware of it. Then, one of its long hands grabs my face, its fingers around my wide open mouth and all of a sudden, all the panic disappears. I see something white, a strange sort of light illuminating from the shtriga's face, right where its mouth is supposed to me. It's pure and beautiful and I can't move any longer, my arms slumping down next to my body. And all I feel is my own breath getting sucked out of me.

"Hey!" I'm vaguely aware of Dean's voice coming from somewhere to the left and then the noise of a loud gunshot. And the calming, pure feeling disappears with the light. The shtriga, being hit right between its eyes by a bullet, flies off of me and suddenly all the panic and need for air is back. "Hey, hey, I'm here. It's okay, honey, it's okay…" Dean's with me in seconds, grabbing my gasping body and crushing me into his chest. He's bleeding on the side of his face as he pulls me up, encouraging me to breathe. I do and thankfully, I'm no longer incapable. Oxygen fills my lungs and I feel my strength returning. "Oh… my… god…" I wheeze, grabbing Dean's jacket to hold me up. "You okay? Are you okay?" Dean grabs my face between his hands and looks at me intently. "I think so…" I whisper back, clinging to him. "She okay?" I hear Sam call out from the other room, where he's accompanying a very scared Micheal. "Yeah, you're fine. Come on." Dean pulls me to my feet and steps away, towards the shtriga, that's lying on its back a little further back. This time it's really down and looking way less scary. "Come here." Sam has reached me and grabs my shoulders, pulling me closer to him. "I'm good." I pant at him, finally having caught my breath a little. Dean raises his gun to the shtriga, who's making sizzling noises, like it's burning up or something, and shoots it in the face about four more times. Just for good measure. That seems to do it completely, cause soon the shtriga goes up in mist and fully disappears, thankfully not leaving a body behind that we'll need to clean up. "It's okay now, Micheal. You can come on out." Dean yells back towards Micheals room and when I glance back, Micheal's slowly approaching us, also still quite out of breath. He looks up at Sam and then smiles, which makes everything I just went through, worth it. Sam claps him on his back and there's even a little smile appearing on Dean's face. For him, this is now also finally over, it won't need to haunt him anymore. It won't burden him any longer. "I'm so sorry you carried this for so long." I whisper to Dean, needing him to know that. "Shut your face." He tells me, but his smile doesn't disappear and he wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to him for a second, leaning his head on mine.

Dean puts Micheal back to bed and promises him that he'll stay with him until morning comes. Which is only in about two hours, might I add. Sam insists on taking me back to our own motel room where he tries to talk me into going to bed. I remind him that being attacked by that shtriga was terrifying enough to put my whole system on alert, making it impossible to go to sleep. "If dad knew that the shtriga who attacked me all these years ago, now came for you, he'd have a heart attack." Sam jokes, shaking his head. He's only making that joke cause this ended well. We both know dad would have killed Dean and probably him too, had this not worked out this well. Which reminds me of the whole Dean situation. "I hate that he had to go through that, Sam. Like, all these years ago, but also now." I confess, letting myself drop down on the sofa. Sam's shoulders tense up and he lets out a sigh. "Tell me about it." He then mutters, glancing at me. There's so much more to say about that, but neither of us know how, so we just fall back into a comfortable silence. "Hey, you wanna check your email again?" Sam asks me, breaking our silence about a few hours later. The morning has already started and sunlight is coming through our windows, making the last of my fright leave my system. "Nah, I actually saw that I received my results a few days ago." I confess to him, glancing at my hands. "What? Why didn't you say anything? Did you pass?" Sam cries out, thoroughly confused. "Haven't looked at 'm." I tell him, feeling myself get nervous just talking about it. "Skye, come here." Sam sighs, standing up from his chair by the table and beckoning me over. "I don't wanna see them…" I protest, slowly standing up from my position on the couch. "Come here, if you don't look you'll never know." He tells me reassuringly. I groan, but walk over to him and let him put his hands on my shoulders, pushing me down in the now empty chair. "What if I failed?" I mutter out loud, staring at the laptop in front of me. "Then you'll redo one of 'm, which is completely fine, Skye." Sam assures me, keeping his hands supportively on my shoulder. "Go on." He orders and I reach for the laptop, opening my email. The message that holds the results of my exams is still there, untouched and unopened. "Skye, you'll be fine. Come on." Sam chuckles when he sees me hesitate. "Well, it's not your life that's dangling by a threat." I scoff at him, slightly annoyed. That makes him laugh. "You're a real drama queen, ya know that? Come on, open it." Sam squeezes my shoulders and with a loud and definitely dramatic sigh, I click on the email, logging into the system. The file that holds my results is one click away. "Will you stop dad from burying me alive, if I've failed?" I ask Sam in a tiny voice, nervously bumping my leg against the foot of the table. "I'll protect you with my life." Sam promises and with that, I open the file. "Oh, thank god…" The biggest relief washes over me when I see the list of my exams and the grades next to 'm, all in green, meaning I've passed all of 'm. "See, told you. Congratulation." Sam happily leans closer to the screen to look at the grades. "Oh, and with a B for science. That's my girl." He ruffles my hair affectionately. "I got a B for science?" I cry out in surprise, also leaning closer to look at the actual grades. I actually did quite good, with even a few A's in the list, which throws me off guard. I know I studied for the exams, but not that much. "You're just very smart, Skye. Like me." Sam proudly announces. "Like you, huh?" I tease, closing the file and feeling lighter than I've felt in weeks. "Uhuh, I mean, have you seen Dean?" Sam teases back, making me laugh.

"I've seen me, yeah? What of it?" Just at that moment, Dean enters our motel room. He also looks like he's feeling lighter then he's felt in maybe years and I'm happy I can make that even better. "I passed my exams." I happily tell him and a large smile spreads out across his face. "Of course you did, puppy. I knew you would, you're smart like Sam." He tells me proudly, before frowning as me and Sam both burst out into laughter. "See?" Sam lets out, releasing my shoulders and stepping away. "Yeah, Sam already made sure I knew I was smart like him." I tease Dean, who playfully glares at Sam. "Oh really, big boy. Ya saying I'm dumb?" He challenges, shrugging off his jacket. "Nah, no, man. I wouldn't dare…" Sam teases, throwing his hands up in the air. "You wouldn't dare, huh?" Dean, who's clearly relishing in the playful atmosphere between us, takes a few steps towards Sam. Sam dashes back with a large grin on his face and starts to splutter something about intelligence and how it spread through our families DNA and seemed to hit just me and him, only making it worse for himself. Dean, who's eyes have started twinkling, suddenly makes a dash towards Sam and then laughingly exclaims that his reflexes sure as hell aren't as sharp as he claims his intelligence is, since Sam failed to move away in time. I happily watch a short wrestling match happen between them, with Dean clearly in the upper hand and continuing his teasing. Sam tries to defend himself, but ironically his brain is no match to Dean's muscles. He grunts and demands Dean needs to let him go, while at the same time scolding me for laughing and not helping him. "You never help me." I tell him matter of factly, before standing up from the table to start packing my stuff. We're done here, the shtriga is gone and we're probably needed elsewhere soon.

Later, when we're loading everything into the Impala, Sam still sulking about the wrestling match he lost to Dean, we spot Joanna walking into the parking lot. Micheal's mother, who's apparently back home. "Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doing?" Dean immediately steps towards her and I follow his lead, also very curious to how the little kid's doing. Hoping to all the gods there are, that us killing the shtriga has helped the kids it had already affected. "Have you seen Micheal?" Joanna completely ignores Dean's question, clearly having her mind on finding her other son. I'm about to tell her that he should be home, when Micheal appears outside, loudly calling for his mom. "Ah, hey!" Joanna immediately turns around to him and engulfs him in a warm hug. She looks better than she did yesterday, which is something. "How's Ash?" Micheal then asks his mother and she smiles at him. "I've got some good news. Your brother is going to be fine." She tells him and I can see the relief washing over Micheal's face. "Really?" He asks excitingly. "Yeah, really. No one can explain it, its uh, it's a miracle." His mother confirms and I catch Dean and Sam's joyous faces, feeling very happy about that myself. "They're gonna keep 'm in overnight for observation, but after that he's coming home." Joanna explains, glancing at us. "That's great." Dean tells her. "How are all the other kids doing?" Sam asks her and her smile grows even bigger. "Good. Real good, a bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Doctor Travis says the wards gonna be like a ghost town." She tells him, making the news even better. "Hey, wait a second. Doctor Travis?" I question, very happy to hear a different doctors name. "Yeah, doctor Hydecker wasn't in today. He must have gotten sick, or something." Joanna answers me and Dean smiles at her. "Yeah, must have." He says, chuckling. "So, did anything happen while I was gone?" Joanna turns to Micheal, putting a hand on his shoulder. Micheal swiftly glances at us, before shaking his head. "No, same old stuff." He answers, making me duck my head to hide my grin. "Okay, we can go and see Ash." Joanna then tells him, making him very happy and turn around to race towards the car. Joanna laughs. "Well, I'd better go before he hotwires the car and drives himself." She says to us, gives a friendly nod and then hurries after her son. We watch her leave with a smile and Dean then turns around to lock the trunk. "Ah, it's too bad…" Sam mutters, walking around the car towards the passenger's seat. "Ah, they'll be fine." Dean reassures him, missing the point. "No, that's not what I meant." Sam corrects him, leaning on top of the car and having a serious look on his face. "Then what do you mean?" I ask him, stuffing my hands in my pockets. "I mean Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark… he'll never be the same, you know?" Sam explains, softly shaking his head. I turn around to Joanna's car, that's leaving the parking lot and driving onto the road. Sam's right about that and he's also right about that being too bad. "Sometimes I wish that…" Sam continues and when I turn around to him, he has a sad look in his eyes and huffs out a sarcastic laugh. "Sometimes I wish I could have that kind of innocence." He then mutters. A silence falls and Dean's no longer smiling. He glances down, nodding slowly. "If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could, too." He then sincerely says to Sam, before opening the door and getting into the driver's seat. I wisely stay silent and also enter the car, watching Sam do the same.