I was sitting outside the Harvel roadhouse waiting for the Winchesters and I smiled as they pulled up in their Impala.

"Los Angeles, California," I heard Dean say to Sam as they got out of the car.

"What's in L.A.?" Sam asked him.

"Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult," Dean answered.

"Yeah? Girl got a name?"

"Katie Holmes."

"That's funny. And for you, so bitchy," Sam laughed.

"Hey boys," I greeted finally before the noticed me.

"Well if it isn't little Tam Tam," Dean said with a smile on his face as he hugged me.

"Tamra," I corrected for the hundredth time. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey, Tam." From behind me we could hear breaking glass and shouting voices and I sighed.

"What's going on in there?" Dean asked.

"No idea," I told him. "I've been listening to them shouting for hours so I came out here to get some air."

"What? You afraid?" Dean asked with a smirk on his face.

"You wanna get between Jo and my mom arguing, be my guest." We all walked inside as Jo was yelling mom.

"What are you going to do, are you going to chain me up in the basement?"

"You know what, you've had worse ideas than that recently," Mom told her. "Hey, you don't wanna stay, don't stay. Go back to school."

"I didn't belong there! I was a freak with a knife collection!"

"Yeah, and getting yourself killed on some dusty back road, that's where you belong?!" Mom finally turned to see us. "Guys, bad time."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway," Dean lied and they started walking out of the roadhouse.

"Wait," Jo's voice stopped them and they turned to us. "I wanna know what they think about this."

"I don't care what they think!" Mom shouted at her as a family of four wearing bright yellow t-shirts reading "Nebraska is for Lovers" walked in.

"Are you guys open?" the guy asked.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"We'll just... check out the Arby's down the road." The family of four quickly left as the phone started to ring. Jo turned and glared at it before turning her glare to Mom. Mom sighed before going to answer it.

"Harvelle's. Yeah, Preacher."

"Three weeks ago a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment," Jo started explaining as she shoved a file at Dean. He glanced at the file then back to her. "Take it, it won't bite."

"No, but your mom might."

"There's no might," I corrected him. "She will." Jo pinched her lips but didn't drop the folder. Dean sighed as he took it from her.

"And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years, six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer or —"

"Who put this together? Ash?" Dean interrupted.

"Tam and I did it," Jo told him with a small smile.

"Hmm."

"I gotta admit. We hit the road for a lot less," Sam reminded him as I heard Mom hang up the phone.

"Good. You like the case so much, you take it," Mom told them.

"Mom!"

"Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you and your sister too. I just won't," Mom told her. Bringing up Dad normally won the conversation, but something told me this wouldn't stop my sister.

"It's so convenient," Jo was telling the landlord in Philly. I'd been right, of course. Jo wasn't going to back down on this one so we pulled Ash into our little scam showing us going the opposite direction as we followed the boys but took a different route.

"Yeah, it's a great building, fixed it up real nice. All the apartments come furnished, too."

"It is so spacious. You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place," Jo complimented.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean asked stepping out of whatever hiding place he and Sam were in.

"There you are, honey." Jo grabbed Dean around the waist and turned to the landlord. "This is my boyfriend, Dean, and my sister's boyfriend, Sam."

"Hey, sweetie," I said smiling and waving at him.

"Good to meetcha. Quite a pair of gals you've got here," the landlord complimented.

"Oh yeah, she's a pistol," Dean said slapping my sister's ass.

"So, did you already check out that apartment?" This stumped the boys. "The one for rent?" Jo asked the boys.

"Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow," Dean said.

"How'd you get in?" the landlord asked confused.

"It was open," Dean lied.

"That reminds me, Ed, you never said when the last tenant moved out," I said.

"Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stick me for the rent," he told us.

"Well. Her loss, our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me," Jo told him.

"Oh, sweetie." He smacking her ass again and she made a face.

"We'll take it," Jo told him handing him a wad of cash.

"You'll all be living together?" the landlord asked the four of us.

"What can we say," I said looking at the other three. "You can't break up this crack team."

"Ok," the landlord took the cash and laughed lightly.

"I'll flip you for the sofa," Jo told Dean as he messed with his guns.

"Does your mother even know you're here?" Dean asked her.

"Told her we were going to Vegas," Jo answered.

"You think she's gonna buy that?"

"I'm not an idiot. I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos."

"You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here either," Dean said and I rolled my eyes.

"Dean quit playing dad and let's just get on with the job," I told him.

"Where'd you get all that money from, anyway?" Sam asked curiously.

"Working, at the Roadhouse."

"Hunters don't tip that well," Dean countered.

"And they have the worst poker faces and can't tell when they're being hustled at a game," I told him before his cell started ringing.

"Yeah." His face tightened as the person on the other end spoke. "Oh, hi Ellen." Jo and I shared a small look. Dean placed the speaker of the phone on his shoulder.

"What are you tel-"

"I'm telling her."

"I'm gunna kill you," she whispered at him.

"Let us prove we can do this," I mutely begged him. We all whisper argued for a moment before he put the phone back to his hear.

"I haven't seen them." I sighed in quiet relief. "Yeah, I'm sure. Absolutely." He hung up the phone and Jo smiled cheerfully at him.

"This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago," Jo said as we stared at the blueprints all over the table and she slipped her small knife around while Dean paced.

"Yeah? What was here before 1924?" Dean asked.

"Empty field," I told him.

"So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell," Sam said.

"Nope," I corrected him.

"We already checked. In the past eighty two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor," Jo said before pointing her knife at Dean. "Would you sit down, please?"

"So, have you checked police reports, county death records..." Dean listed off as he sat between Jo and me.

"Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing," Jo told him.

"I think the jury's still out on that one." She rolled her eyes before flipping her knife again. "Could you put the knife down?" She did as he requested.

"Okay!" Sam said trying to cut the awkwardness. "So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it."

"Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?" Jo asked and he nodded.

"Right. So. Tam and I, we'll take the top two floors while Jo goes with Sam," Dean said getting up from his seat.

"No way!" I denied.

"We'd move faster if we split up," Jo argued.

"Oh, this isn't negotiable," Dean told her. "Let's go Tam."

I was walking next to Dean with my EMF reader on one side of the hallway while he ran his along the other.

"So. Are you gonna at least buy us dinner at some point?" I asked him.

"What are you talking about?"

"If you're going to ride my ass you can at least get me some food first."

"Oh, that's hilarious. You know, it's bad enough I lied to your mom, but if you think I'm letting you out of my sight... I don't know if you've noticed, but you and Jo are kind of the spirit's type," Dean pointed out.

"You think that thought hadn't crossed our minds?" I asked him.

"You wanna be bait?" Dean asked confused.

"That's the quickest way to draw it out, right?" I asked him with a knowing smirk on my face.

"Oh."

"What?"

"I'm so regretting this."

"You're not the only one," I sighed.

"Excuse me?"

"You think I hadn't noticed? You seem to think Jo and I can't do this job. Why's that? Because we're women? You think a woman can't get the job done as good as a man can?" I asked him angrily.

"Sweetheart, this ain't gender studies. Women can do the job fine. Amateurs can't. You have no experience. What you do have is a bunch of half-baked romantic notions that some barflies put in your head," Dean corrected me.

"How do you think experienced hunters got experienced? By being amateurs and either having someone teach them or by learning from their mistakes."

"That's if they survived from them. Let me tell you..."

"What?" I asked him when he didn't finish his sentence.

"Forget it."

"No, we started this conversation and I want to hear the ending," I told him.

"Tam, you and Jo have options. No one in their right mind chooses this life. My dad started me in this when I was so young... I wish I could do something else," Dean told me.

"Don't give me that," I told him. "I know you love this job."

"Yeah, but I'm a little twisted."

"Aren't we all?" I asked him.

"Tam, you've got a mother that worries about you. Who wants something more for you and your sister. Those are good things. You don't throw things like that away. Might be hard to find later," Dean warned.

"I'm not throwing it away," I told him as he started walking away from me. "I just can't spend my entire life in that roadhouse or where I don't feel like I belong. I want to protect people from things that would tear them apart just like my dad did. Like you and Sam do."

"Don't wish for something that will kill you," he told me from halfway down the hall. I shook my head before continuing with the EMF reader. I walked down the hall and ran my EMF over a section of the wall when I thought I'd heard something. I quickly turned with a small gasp but saw nothing.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Honestly, I don't know," I told him. He walked towards me and started sniffing.

"You smell that?" I started sniffing around us too.

"Is it a gas leak?" I asked him.

"No. Something else," Dean said looking around. "I know it. I just can't put my finger on it." I looked around too before noticing the grate. I knelt down and my EMF purred to life. "Mazel Tov. You just found your first spirit."

"It's inside the vent?" I asked and he pulled out his flashlight and looked inside it. "Seems like a very cramped life."

"Here." Dean handed me his flashlight and I continued to try and look inside the vent as he unscrewed the grating and pulled it off. He took the flashlight back and started looking around again. "There's something in there. Here." I took the flashlight back and Dean reached inside and felt around the grate. When he finally pulled his hand out, he was holding a clump of blond hair still attached to a bit of skin. "Somebody's keeping souvenirs."

The next morning, I was looking over the notes JO and I had pulled together over the last month and what we knew from yesterday as Dean slept in a very awkward sleep-position on the sofa (Jo and I took the bed last night), and Jo twirled her knife again.

"Morning, princess." I turned to see Dean staring at us. Jo was still upset about the kid gloves that hadn't been removed.

"Where's Sam?" Dean groaned.

"Went to get coffee." Dean got up slowly, grimacing and groaning as he did.

"Ugh. My back. How'd you two sleep on that big soft bed?" he asked us.

"We didn't," I told him. "We've been looking over everything all night. All we did was change sitting arrangements." He looked down at us before placing a bag on the table and pulling out a Bowie knife and handing it to her, hilt-first.

"Here."

"What's this for?" Jo asked taking the blade from him.

"Work a hell of a lot better than that little pig-sticker you're twirling around," Dean told her. Jo held the knife out to him and he took it before studying it. We knew the second he saw the engraving.

"William Anthony Harvelle."

"Sorry. My mistake." He took the Bowie knife back and sheathed it.

"What do you.. what do you remember about your dad? I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head?" she asked him and he shook his head.

"Safe space," I told him. "You can tell us." He sighed before sitting down.

"I was six or seven, and uh, he took me shooting for the first time. You know, bottles on a fence, that kind of thing. I bulls-eyed every one of 'em. He gave me this smile, like... I don't know."

"He must have been proud," Jo said.

"What about your dad?" Dean asked us.

"I was still in pigtails when my dad died, but I remember him coming home from a hunt. He'd burst through that door like, like Steve McQueen or something. And he'd sweep me up in his arms, and I'd breathe in that old leather jacket of his. And my mom, who was sour and pissed from the minute he left, she started smiling again. And we were... we were a family," Jo told him.

"I remember when he started teaching me how to put together a file for a case," I said with a small smile. "Mom was mad at hell, but he told her he wanted to make sure that if anything happened to him we could all take care of each other. Eventually, we started looking for cases together and I'd put the file together for him and he'd be off on his hunt. I'd keep track of anything weird happening around home until the day he came back."

"You wanna know why I want to do the job? For him. It's my way of being close to him," Jo told him. "Now tell me what's wrong with that."

"Nothing," Dean whispered before Sam burst through the door. "Where's the coffee?"

"There are cops outside. Another girl disappeared," Sam told us.

After hearing another girl had been taken, we poured over our notes more urgently than before. We only looked up when Dean came back from the apartment where the girl went missing last night.

"Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn," he told us.

"And her apartment?" Jo asked him.

"Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too."

"Well, between that and that tuft of hair I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls," Sam guessed.

"But who is it? Building's history is totally clean," Dean pointed out.

"Maybe not," I said as Jo picked up an old photo I'd been staring at.

"She's right. Maybe we're looking in the wrong place," Jo said.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

"Check this out." She handed him the photo and the boys looked at it together.

"An empty field?" Sam asked.

"It's where this building was built," Jo told them.

"But that's not the interesting part," I told them. "Take a look at the windows on the next-door building."

"Bars."

"We're next door to a prison?"

"Thanks, Ash," Jo said over the phone once she'd gotten the intel we needed. "And if you breathe a word of this to my mom... That's right. I will. With pliers." She hung up and turned to us. "Ok. Moyamensing prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."

"Well, then, we need a list. All the people executed there," Sam said.

"Ash is already on it."

Later, we watched Sam scroll through a very long list of names on his laptop.

"A hundred fifty-seven names?" Sam asked and I sighed and began to pace.

"We've gotta narrow that down," Dean said.

"Yeah."

"Or else we're gonna be digging up a hell of a lot of stiffs."

"Herman Webster Mudgett?" Sam suddenly asked for no apparent reason.

"Yeah?" Jo asked him.

"What's special about him?" I asked him.

"Wasn't that H. H. Holmes' real name?" Sam asked.

"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Dean said as Sam clicked on the name. "Yep. Holmes was executed at Moyamensing, May 7, 1896."

"H. H. Holmes himself. Come on, I mean, what are the odds?" Sam asked sounding a little excited.

"Who is this guy?" Jo asked the guys.

"Yeah, what's so exciting about H. H. Holmes?"

"The term "multi-murderer." They coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer, before anybody knew what a serial killer was," Dean told us.

"Yeah, he confessed to twenty seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred," Sam said.

"And his victim flavor of choice? Pretty petite blondes. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill 'em," Dean said before remembering something. "Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night. At his place, cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair. Boy, you two sure know how to pick 'em."

"Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?" Jo asked.

"Simple enough."

"Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete," Sam told us and I sighed.

"What? Why?" Jo asked.

"The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. 'Cause, you know, that's what he used to do," Dean said and I couldn't help the sarcastic laugh that fell from my lips as I shook my head.

"You know somethin'. We might have an even bigger problem than that," Sam said looking at the items we had scattered on the table.

"How does this get bigger?"

"Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. He called it the Murder Castle," Sam told us. "The whole place was a death factory, they had, uh, trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits... he built these secret chambers inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve to death."

"So Teresa could still be alive inside these walls," I stated.

"We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls, anywhere thick enough to hide a girl."

Once we found a wall large enough to hide someone, Dean and I squeezed through the crawl-spaces while Sam and Jo took the lower floors.

"Okay. Call us after you check the southeast wall," I told Sam over the phone before hanging up. "Sam annd Jo are almost done with the first floor. Hasn't found jack squat either." I continued following Dean through the crawl-space until he stopped. "What is it?"

"It's too narrow. Can't go any further," Dean told me.

"Let me see."

"What are you-" I squeezed so I was standing directly in front of him. There was no room to breath let alone for me to move past him, but I managed. "Ugh. Shoulda cleaned the pipes."

"What did you say?" I asked him.

"I, uh, I wish the pipes were cleaner," Dean said looking at the nasty pipes close to us.

"Stop being such a girl," I told him before looking inside the space in front of us. "I can fit in there."

"You're not going in there by yourself," Dean told me.

"If you have another idea I'm all years," I told him.

"You-"

"I'm listening." In the end, I continued down the crawl space before he called me so he could keep in contact with me.

"Where are you?" he asked me.

"I'm on the north wall." I turned a corner and found an air duct and started to climb down it. "I'm heading down some kind of air duct."

"No, no, no, no, stay up here," Dean told me.

"We've gotta find this girl before Webster does something to her. I'll be okay," I told him.

"All right. I'm heading to you." When I finally crawled out of the crawl-space, I was on a lower level that looked exactly the same as where I'd just been. I sighed before pressing on. That was until I saw the ectoplasm pouring from the cracks in the walls.

"Oh god," I breathed out.

"What is it?" Dean asked me over the phone. "Tam? Tamra!" A man appeared down the hallway and I screamed before trying to run away. He caught me and pulled me to his chest and pressed a napkin over my mouth. I had no choice but to breath in the chloroform and pass out in his arms.

When I woke up, I was in a small dark place. I tried to look around, but I couldn't see anything. I felt around to feel my flashlight and quickly turned it on. I moved the light to reveal a wall wood a few inches above my head, with long scratches gouged in it. I took a deep breath to hold back the tears that wanted to fall and continued to look around. To my right was another wood panel with a slit in it. I looked through it to see a larger, round chamber with similar compartments on the sides.

"Hello?" I called out.

"Is - is anybody there?" I heard somebody ask. I tried to see the best I could, but it was too dark.

"Your name's Teresa?" I asked her.

"Yes."

"We're going to get out of here," I told her. "I have friends who will rescue us."

"Oh god. He's out there, he's gonna kill us!"

"No, he won't," I told her firmly. "We're getting out of here." I stopped talking as we heard quiet footsteps coming closer.

"Oh god, he's here!" Teresa screamed.

"Just be quiet!" I ordered. We were both quiet before a hand burst into my prison and grabbed me by the head making me scream before it ripped off a chunk of my hair.

Once he was gone, I started gone kicking at the wall of my cell before having to stop due to exhaustion. I heard Holmes's footsteps again and quickly turned to see a scraggly-bearded mouth appear at the small opening.

"You're so pretty. So beautiful."

"Go back to hell!" He reached his hand through the opening again and starts petting my hair. I turned away and groaned in disgust and horror as his hand continued down to my arm. I quietly pulled out a small knife that my dad left me and stabbed his hand making him flee, screaming. "Pure iron you son of a bitch!" I stayed still, listening for Holmes to reappear.

"Is he gone?" Teresa asked.

"I don't know," I told her before a hand suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me back and clamped a hand over my mouth.

"Shhh." He told me as I struggled and released gagged screams.

"Hey!" I heard gunfire and Holmes screaming.

"Tam?!" I heard Jo call out.

"Jo!" I called out. "I'm in here!"

"We're gonna get you out of here, all right?" I head Sam say after I heard something breaking.

"Sam!" Dean called out before I saw his eyes in the slot of my wooden prison. "Hang on." The compartment opened and Jo helped me out of it and stand up again.

"You all right?" Jo asked hugging me tightly.

"Better now," I told her before moving out of the hug to see the boys. "Shal we get the hell out of here?"

"Actually, I don't think you're leaving here just yet," Dean told us.

"What?" Jo asked.

"Why the hell not?"

"Remember when I said you being bait was a bad plan?" I nodded. "Now it's kind of the only one we got." Dean turned to Sam, who was holding a terrified Teresa ans shrugged.

Once we figured out a plan, I sat alone, silent, in the middle of the chamber. I was trusting the guys to tell me when I had to move.

"Now!" I dove forward as Sam, Dean, and Jo fired at a tarp on the wall. It unrolled and spilled salt to complete the circle around Holmes, trapping him. Dean and Jo pulled me to safety as Holmes circles, gibbering and screaming in terror.

"Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!" Jo screamed at him. We watched him as a grate slammed shut, sealing off the room.

Jo, Sam, and I stood at the entrance to the sewers, looking down them.

"So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?" Sam asked us.

"Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure," Jo said and we all laughed lightly. "But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is," Sam agreed.

"So what happens when it rains?" I asked Sam. "Or if somebody finds the sewer.?"

"Both very fine points," Sam told me. "Which is why we're waiting here."

"For what?" Jo and I asked. We turned as a loud beeping was heard behind us to see a large cement mixer backing into the field.

"For that." Sa turned to the driver, who I assumed was Dean, and waved at him. "Whoa!" Dean got out of the cab and walked up to us.

"You ripped off a cement truck?" Jo asked with a smile.

"I'll give it back." We smiled as we watched the cement pour down to the sewer. "Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over."

That night, we were driving back to the roadhouse. Dean was driving with me, Jo, and Sam in the back seat. Mom was sitting beside Dean staring outside.

"Boy, you, you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?" Dean asked her and she gave him no reaction. Boy, she was pissed. "How about we listen to some music?" He flicked on the radio.

"You're as cold as ice..." Mom quickly reached forward and flicked the radio off. I exchanged a look with Sam and Jo as Dean glanced back at before sighing.

"This is gonna be a long drive."

The minute we were back at the roadhouse, Jo and I were dragged inside by a storming mother as the boys followed us.

"Ellen? This is my fault. Okay?" Dean told her. "I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo and Tam did good out there, I think their dad would be proud." I smiled at the compiment, but mom didn't seem to take it that way.

"Don't you dare say that. Not you," Mom told him. "I need a moment with my daughters. Alone." The boys shared a small look before going outside.

"You're angry. I understand," Jo started.

"Angry? Angry doesn't begin to touch it," Mom warned.

"Let's just think about this. Everything's okay, we're alive..."

"Not after I'm through with you."

"What's this really about mom?" I asked her. "Us hunting or us hunting with Sam and Dean?"

"You let those boys use you as bait!" Mom shouted at me.

"They had my back!" I shouted back at her.

"We were right there the whole time," Jo told her.

"That is why you do not have the sense to do this job, you're trusting your life to them," Mom said.

"What are you talking about?" Jo asked as we shared a confused look.

"Like father, like sons, that is what I'm talking about."

"John? I thought you and John were friends."

"Yeah, we were, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Didn't mean what?" I asked her.

"Mom? What aren't you telling us?" And that was how we got the whole story of dad's last job.

After Mom told us the entire story, Jo stormed out glaring at the boys as she stalked forward.

"What happened?" Sam asked me as Dean followed Jo.

"You don't know the half of it," I said.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," I sighed. "On my dad's last job, he had a partner. He normally worked alone, and so did the other guy, but I guess they both decided it would be better to work together. Mistakes were made and the other guy screwed up, got my dad killed."

"So that's why your mom was so freaked out?" Sam asked me. "Cause you went on a hunt with other hunters?"

"Because we went out with you and your brother," I corrected. "The hunter who got my dad killed was your dad."

"What?" Sam asked confused.

"That was the reason John never came back and why he never told you about us. He just couldn't face us after that last hunt."

"I'm so sorry Tam."

"That was in the past," I told him. "I want you guys to teach me to be a better hunter."