CHAPTER THREE:
BEDTIME STORIES.

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WHEN IT CAME to the Winchesters, you never quite knew what you were gonna get. For as long as Birdie had known the brothers, trouble often followed them wherever they went no matter if they had good intentions or not. It wasn't exactly their fault either, sometimes stumbling upon a case by mere accident or getting recognized in passing by creatures. Though, some of that trouble found them because of their even more well-known father, John Winchester, who'd become a hunter that searched and searched for years for the yellow-eyed demon, Azazel, who had murdered his wife, Mary. He burned quite a few bridges along the way until he eventually sacrificed himself for Dean——but, his sons avenged him and their mother by killing the yellow-eyed demon at the Gates of Hell.

Birdie hadn't entirely liked John because of his cold nature and, as she'd described it when she was younger, his "bitter, old man complex". But, it had still saddened her when she found out about his death, especially knowing how much it hurt Sam and Dean.

It'd always been rather obvious that she wasn't a fan of John, but despite that, she put up with him for the sake of Sam and Dean. She and John butted heads on more than one occasion throughout the years, and so had her own parents who hadn't liked the man much more than Birdie. Though l they trusted him which was something that couldn't have been said for Birdie. But, she would admit there were three good things John Winchester had done in his lifetime: having Dean, then Sam, and leaving them at Bobby's so much that it actually allowed them to become friends. It was almost as much of a surprise to their families as it was to themselves, but it put a smile on Bobby's face when he saw them laughing together instead of bickering. They still did have their fair share of fighting, just maybe not as much her with the boys as it was mostly Sam and Dean fighting lately.

Birdie was sort of over the possible werewolf hunt she was going on with the brothers. She wasn't even sure how long they'd been traveling down the darkened highway after leaving Bobby's. It was two days after Sam and Dean had dealt with some demons where Bobby and Birdie had come in at the last minute to help (and with the Colt restored after Ruby miraculously showed up to help——of course, when Birdie wasn't around at the moment), but it felt like an eternity. Birdie had pleaded for them to let her tag along as she'd been shot not even a week ago, though she swore she was feeling better. It did hurt from time to time and her torso was still a little bruised, but thankfully the bullet had gone clean through her shoulder. Sam patched her up before they left the graveyard as Dean muttered about the lottery tickets and that he was going to kill Bela; which Birdie had agreed to help so long as they buried the woman further than six feet. However, she hadn't expected Sam and Dean to be fighting already.

It was growing more intense the longer it dragged on, both of them getting fed up with the other for not actually listening. But, seeing as Birdie put a lot of effort into convincing them to let her come, she wasn't about to tell them she was suddenly having second thoughts. So, she sucked up her annoyance and simply listened to the brothers. She occasionally raised a brow or frowned as she skimmed through the article clutched in her hands that detailed the brutal attack they were going to investigate.

Down in Maple Springs, New York, two men——brothers in fact——had been murdered at a construction site by what the article claimed was a "psychotic killer". The third brother survived the attack and was currently in the hospital for the wounds he'd sustained, the details of the heinous killings fitting the usual details of a werewolf attack. Birdie herself really hadn't dealt with many werewolf cases over the years, usually preferring to deal with other monsters instead. She did hate demons most of all, but something never sat well with her when it came to werewolves and she wasn't exactly sure why. Nevertheless, she typically passed up on those cases, often referring someone else to it.

When Sam and Dean's voices eventually got a little too loud to ignore, Birdie rolled her eyes and tossed the newspaper aside, folding her arms over her chest. She casually leaned against the back cushions, head tilted to one side while her eyes flickered from one brother to the other.

With the Colt restored, Sam was trying his best to convince Dean to use it to kill the Crossroads Demon in order to release him from his deal. Dean was adamant about leaving it alone, knowing that any attempt to alter it would put Sam's life in danger once again. Birdie fought the urge to add her input, feeling her opinion would only add more fuel to their fight and she didn't want that. Dean deflected the argument by asking Birdie for details of the killings since she'd last had the article, listening to the details as she reluctantly told him. And if it really was a werewolf, they only had two days to find and kill it until the next full moon and then it wouldn't change for another month.

None of the hunters spoke after that, but it was incredibly tense in the car and all three were well aware of it. Birdie was thankful when Dean finally pulled into a motel not too long after, meaning that they could get some rest. Much to her chagrin, Dean had told Sam and Birdie to check in while he went and got some food——his way of saying that he was actually going to the bar for a few hours. So, that left Sam and Birdie.

Birdie let it go with a sigh and nudged Sam along while they retrieved their bags from the trunk before Dean could head off, joking that since Dean wasn't there to call dibs on one of the two beds, he was stuck with the couch this time. Sam had softly chuckled and agreed, the two diving into some research to see if they could find anything else that could help with the case before calling it a night, or trying to since they often struggled to get a good night's sleep; one of the many perks of being a hunter.

A few hours passed with the two of them going back and forth with research, pausing to get some snacks until Birdie found herself falling asleep where she was last sat without warning. Dean returned to the motel a little after midnight, expecting to find Sam and Birdie in the two beds with the couch wide open for him, but to his slight surprise, he saw Sam still awake on his computer while Birdie was fast asleep beside him and nestled rather close to the younger Winchester.

Sam, already knowing what was going through his brother's mind, just glared and shook his head as if warning Dean not to say a word. Dean left it at that but didn't hide his amused grin as he caved into the opposite bed, eventually falling asleep not long before Sam did so.

"I look like a middle school principal," Birdie suddenly complained, her voice capturing the brothers' attention as she exited the bathroom with her hands thrown out at her sides in exasperation. She wore a light blue blazer and a white button-up blouse perfectly tucked into a black pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees. White pumps were on her feet, blonde hair pulled up into a neatly done bun with enough makeup to cover up any blemishes and hide the fact that she didn't get enough sleep.

A small smirk appeared on Dean's face, catching Birdie's eye. "Yeah, plus they're usually hot."

"You look fine, Birdie," Sam said, softly smiling.

Birdie groaned, throwing her hands up in frustration, making the brothers look at her oddly. "I don't wanna look just fine," she huffed. "I also don't wanna look like a damn principal either!"

"It's just a case," Dean told her, giving her a look as he adjusted his tie. "You expectin' to meet the love of your life here or somethin'?"

"No, but you two know I like a more vibrant look," she said,. "I need something different, something better——and something that sure as hell doesn't make me look like a principal." Sam and Dean shared a look with each other, faintly nodding.

Birdie sharply narrowed her eyes, looking between them. But, she just shook her head and returned to the bathroom where her bag was placed for her to change inside.

"Wait, Bird," Sam huffed, standing up from one of the beds just as the door shut. "I still. . .need to brush my teeth. . ."

"Just be thankful she spends as much time in there as she does," Dean commented from the table, his laptop opened up to go over what they already knew before they headed to the hospital to talk to the last living brother. "I've never seen a woman get ready as fast as she does."

Sam chuckled under his breath, letting out a sigh as he stood up to retrieve his blazer from his bag. "Yeah, me neither," he replied in agreement.

True to Dean's statement, Birdie exited the bathroom only two minutes later. She missed Sam doing a double-take at her outfit, noticing that she'd switched her skirt for a pair of slim blue slacks that were the same shade as her blazer. She came out with her skirt folded over one of her arms and her bag clutched in her hand, a few loose strands of hair dangling past her ears now.

She placed her bag on the bed closest to the bathroom, shooting Sam an overly enthusiastic smile. "All yours, Samuel."

He chuckled, shaking his head as he headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth. "Thanks."

Birdie adjusted her blazer, twisting her lips as she buttoned a few buttons and then undid them seconds only later. She let out a huff and stepped closer to the round table, looking down at Dean when he peered up at her. "Buttoned or unbuttoned?" she asked.

Dean made a face. "Fashion advice is Sam's department, not mine."

Birdie rolled her eyes, tilting her head at him. "He'll just tell me it looks nice either way while you, as bland as your style may be, I know at least you'll be honest."

Dean stared at her with offense, blinking up at her. "My-my style isn't bland. It's—-"

"Button or unbuttoned, Ralph Lauren?" Birdie huffed, eyes growing slightly wide for emphasis.

"Unbuttoned!" he quickly huffed, brows raising as he mimicked Birdie's expression. He thought it was fine either way; she looked stunning no matter what. It was a little on the bold side——for him and most hunters, though the shade was more pastel and wasn't harsh on the eyes so she wouldn't catch any unwanted attention——but for Birdie it was rather normal, and she made it work quite well.

Birdie shot him an appreciative smile at his response and sank down in the chair opposite of him, putting her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her hand. "See? Was that so hard?" she teased.

Dean grumbled under his breath, Sam exiting the bathroom a moment later. "Find anything else?" he asked Dean, picking up his coffee cup from the table.

"Nothing we didn't already know," Dean answered, closing his laptop with a sigh. "You two fashionista's ready to head over to the hospital yet?"

Sam frowned at Dean's remark, looking to Birdie to see if she understood. She just shook her head and stood up with a coy grin. "Dean's just jealous of you and I have a better taste in fashion than him."

"I am not jealous," Dean affirmed with a scoff of disbelief, following Birdie out of the motel room along with Sam. Birdie adjusted her blazer as she walked, making sure her pockets were filled with extra pens, bullets, candy, and a few other things she might've needed that day. "If anything I have the best style out of the three of us."

"Whatever you say, old man," Birdie snickered, climbing into the backseat before Dean was able to respond.

Dean gaped, his eyes shooting over the roof of the Impala to meet Sam's gaze. Sam's smile was evident on his face, opening the passenger door. "Just get in, gramps."

After stopping by a nearby gas station for a quick breakfast——a couple of granola bars and some frosted donuts that were at least two days old——they headed to the hospital. They flashed their badges at the front desk as they'd done so over a hundred times in their many years of pretending to be different types of law enforcement, asking where the victim was. Believing their ruse, the nurse answered them with a kind smile, pointing down the hall to the right of them.

The victim, Kyle, appeared to be in his early thirties, pudgy with blond-reddish hair and a stubbly beard. He wore a hospital gown, a thin blanket pulled up around his waist with an IV hooked into his right arm. Birdie held back a frown, feeling her skin prickle at the memory of one being in her arm not too long ago. She averted her gaze, allowing her eyes to carefully examine the man as they approached his bed. His blue eyes were full of sorrow, no doubt due to both of his brothers having been killed only the night before by something unimaginable. There were four long claw marks prominent on his left temple, three tape bandages placed over them to stop the bleeding and help prevent infection. A white bandage was wrapped around his left wrist, some blood having seeped through part of it already.

"I'm Detective Plant. This is Detective Page and Detective Bonham," Dean introduced the three hunters, flashing their badges to Kyle so he could see before they pocketed them once again. Birdie still couldn't believe she'd allowed Dean to convince her to get fake badges that coincided with his and Sam's a few years ago, but she had to admit that it did make it a little more exciting given where they got the names from; she just hoped no one would actually pick up on it. "We're with the county sheriff's department."

"Yeah, uh, I've been expecting you," the man said, slightly shifting in the bed so that he was sitting up more.

"You have?" Birdie couldn't help but ask.

"All morning," Kyle replied, looking at each of them. They all briefly shared a look as the man continued to speak. "You are the sketch artists, right?"

Sam stammered, glancing towards Dean and Birdie.

"Absolutely," Dean firmly answered. Birdie pursed her lips but agreed with Dean as did Sam. "Yeah. That is exactly who my partners are." Birdie's eyes slightly widened just as Sam turned to his brother with a cold glare. Her intense gaze burned into the oldest Winchester, but he just ignored his "partners" and continued speaking. "The things they can do with a pen," he continued, lightly chuckling.

"You're both sketch artists?" Kyle wondered, glancing from Sam and then Birdie.

"It helps us to get a better idea when two people sketch it out," Birdie easily lied, offering the man a sweet smile that reassured him. Then she clenched her jaw as she reached into her inside pocket and pulled out a small notepad and a pen, shooting Dean another glare for good measure.

"But listen, before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you——how you'd get away?" Dean questioned.

The man shook his head, gaze sinking to the end of his bed. His lips turned into a frown, stammering. "I-I have no idea," he said, looking back up at the three. "I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me, and then he just. . .stopped." The three shared subtle looks with one another, thinking it sounded like the start of a wolf attack. "Stared at me with this blank look. After that, he just took off running."

"'Kay," Sam said, grabbing his own pen and paper, "We're gonna need as much physical detail as you can remember."

"Uh, yeah, uh," the man sighed, touching his beard, using his hand as he spoke. Birdie placed her notepad against Dean's arm for a sturdier place to draw, simply giving him a daunting stare that said 'you brought this on yourself' when he gave her a dark look. "He was about six feet tall. . .dark hair. . ."

"What about his eyes? Did you see what color they were?" Birdie asked a few seconds later, glancing towards the man after sketching an outline of the suspect.

"Maybe they were. . .blue? It was dark," he answered with uncertainty. Dean nodded, shifting his posture until he felt Birdie discreetly stomp on his foot.

"Did they seem, uh, animal-ish?" Dean wondered, clearing his throat to cover up his wince.

Kyle furrowed his brows together. "Excuse me?"

"What about his teeth?" Sam asked next, cutting off whatever Dean was about to say. "You notice anything strange about them?"

Kyle shook his head. "No, they were just teeth."

Sam nodded. "Teeth. Okay."

"How about his fingernails?" Dean asked. Birdie would've asked some more questions herself, but the boys were doing a decent job——not to mention one of them needed to seem sane. And, she was actually trying with the sketch whereas Sam was simply winging it.

Okay, look, he's-he's just a normal guy, with normal eyes a-and teeth a-and fingernails."

"Look, sir, it's okay——" Sam started, but Kyle cut him off.

"No, no," Kyle denied, his voice breaking as he shifted in the bed, his hand moving as he continued to speak. "Those were my brothers. This guy. . .he killed my brothers," he nearly whispered. Then he looked up, looking at the three "detectives". "How would you feel?"

Birdie twisted her lips, stealing a quick glance towards Sam and Dean. They understood more than Kyle thought.

Sam let out a small sigh, something hidden in his soft tone. "Can't imagine anything worse."

Birdie's eyes flickered to Sam along with Dean, no doubt all of them thinking about how Dean was running out of time. Dean let out a tired sigh, looking away from Sam and towards Kyle. "Look, I know this isn't easy, but if you could remember any more details. . ."

"There was one more thing," Kyle said, suddenly remembering something he'd seen during the attack. "He had a-a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character." He groaned, trying to remember what it was but was struggling. "Uh, it's the guy who——he's chasing the roadrunner."

Dean moved his arm, pointing towards the man with the corner of his lips curled with enthusiasm. Birdie gritted her teeth and dropped her arm down at her side, narrowing her eyes at Sam when she saw him trying not to crack an amused smile when Dean's sudden movement caused her to halt her sketching. "Wile E. Coyote," Dean said.

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

Suddenly they heard footsteps approaching and Birdie looked past Dean, seeing a gray-haired doctor entering the room. "Kyle?" he said.

"Dr. Garrison," Kyle greeted the doctor as he came up to the side of his bed, next to Sam.

"How you holding up?" He asked.

"Okay, considering. . ." Kyle shakily answered.

"You're, uh, Kyle's doctor?" Dean asked.

The doctor stared at Dean in slight confusion, "Yes," he answered, watching Dean hold up his badge.

"Can I just ask you a few questions?" Dean requested.

Dr. Garrison nodded. "Sure."

Birdie lowered her hands to her side as did Sam, the two of them silently watching Dean walk away with the doctor into the hall.

"Don't I get to see it?" Kyle asked, motioning to the notepads.

Sam and Birdie shared a look, both stammering. Neither sketches were probably accurate, but Birdie had a better chance of having a more realistic depiction. However, Kyle was looking towards Sam.

Sam let out a faint chuckle, nodding. "Yeah, yeah," he said, holding the pad out for Kyle to look at. "Um, yeah, it's a, you know, work in progress."

Birdie curiously stepped up to the other side of Kyle's bed, peeking over the pad to see Sam's sketch. Her eyes instantly widened, having to bite down on her tongue to stop herself from laughing right then and there.

It wasn't the worst drawing she'd ever seen, but it most definitely wasn't anywhere near accurate to the man Kyle had seen the night before.

"It's really. . ." Kyle started, but he wasn't exactly sure what to say.

Birdie let out a sigh, biting her lip. "He's still learning the ropes," she said, nodding for Sam to take it back.

"Can I see yours?" Kyle requested, peering up at Birdie.

She gave him a kind smile, holding it out for him. Sam twisted his lips, already knowing that Birdie's drawing was going to be much better than his.

There were almost no unique details to the man as they didn't have a whole lot to go on, but she had a body and a head with short, dark hair. A tattoo of Wile E. Coyote was on his left arm along with the average features of a human male.

"I'm sure it's not completely accurate, but——"

"No, wait," Kyle said, looking up to Birdie with realization on his features, "He had-he had some stubble, and-and thick eyebrows. It was dark. . .but. . ."

Birdie carefully took the notepad back as Kyle handed it to her, brows furrowed together in concentration as she drew some stubble to the man's face before adding some more depth to the eyebrows. "Like that?"

Kyle nodded. "Yeah, but. . .I'm still not sure if it's right."

"That's alright," Birdie sweetly assured him, giving him a soft smile as she folded the notepad and put it back in her blazer. She then grabbed something from the opposite pocket, handing it to the man. "If you think of anything else, here's my card."

"Thank you," Kyle said.

Birdie nodded with a smile.

Her head turned to the side, spotting Dean beckoning her and Sam over to him. Both Birdie and Sam bid Kyle goodbye and reminded him to call if he remembered anything.

They left the hospital once they regrouped outside of Kyle's room, Birdie shuffling in between the brothers and her hair now falling freely around her shoulders. They started to walk down the sidewalk, heading towards the Impala that was parked down the street. The sun beamed down on the trio in the cool air that blew around them, police sirens crying out in the distance.

"Can I see the sketches?" Dean asked as they rounded a corner, looking between Sam and Birdie. Reluctantly, the two pulled out their notepads for the oldest of the three to see. Birdie handed hers over to Dean first since she was closest, halting when he did after looking at the sketch. "You drew this?"

Birdie lightly scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Dean shook his head. "No, it's just. . .you're getting better, Picasso."

Birdie rolled her eyes and snatched the notepad back. "Thank you, I think," she playfully huffed, Sam coming up beside her so they were both standing in front of Dean. "Did you really think my only hobby was going to the shooting range?"

"I thought you were more into making music," Sam said, turning his head towards Birdie.

Birdie shrugged. "A girl can have more than one hobby. Hell, apparently you two have added dying to your list of shared hobbies."

"Birdie——"

"Hey, you still haven't looked at Sam's sketch yet," Birdie interrupted, snatching the notepad out of the older man's hand before he had time to protest. She shoved it into Dean's hand, plastering a lopsided smile on her lips while Sam grumbled. Dean chuckled under his breath and started walking once again, Sam and Birdie following suit.

"Boy, this is a piece of art, really," Dean snickered. "I think Birdie should stick to being our pretend sketch artist."

"Yeah, like you could've done any better," Sam huffed, reaching around a giggling Birdie to snatch his notepad from his brother. "So, what did the doc have to say about Kyle's brothers?"

"Not much. They were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me a lowdown on the coroner's report," Dean answered.

"Let me guess: their hearts were missing," Sam presumed.

"Nope," Dean said with a sigh, "But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines."

"That's fuckin' gross," Birdie said with a grimace, nearly gagging.

"Yeah, also definitely not werewolf behavior," Dean said.

"Demon?" Birdie wondered, though she didn't sound so sure.

Sam spoke next. "Attacker could've been possessed."

"Why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?" Dean asked.

"I think that, uh. . . could've. . . yeah, I got nothing," Sam said with a huff.

"Me either," Dean and Birdie said at the same time.

So, if it wasn't a werewolf, what was it?

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"How's that rabbit food tastin' over there?"

Birdie snickered under her breath, taking a sip of her lemonade as her eyes flicked across the square table to Sam. Dean was seated beside her, scarfing down a bacon cheeseburger as ketchup dripped down from his lips. Sam, who was on the opposite side of them, chose to eat a simple salad for lunch. His laptop was placed on the empty space beside him, having done some research before their food arrived, but he'd come up empty. Birdie, on the other hand, had ordered a chicken sandwich with extra pickles——something she could never get enough of it seemed——and was happily eating it as spoke with the brothers.

"It's good," Sam answered truthfully, looking up at Dean with a smug expression. "You should try one sometime."

"I'm a warrior, Sammy," Dean replied with a blank look. He let out a scoff and looked at Birdie whose taste in food, and music, was a little more similar to his than his brother. "You agree with me, right, Bird?"

Birdie heavily sighed, taking a bite of one of her fries. "You can't be much of a warrior by living off only junk food." Sam gave Dean a pointed look while Dean's face fell at the woman's response. But, she continued. "But. . .I'll die before I eat a salad over a sandwich or a burger."

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about," Dean proudly beamed, bumping his arm against Birdie's. She wanted to appear annoyed, but she couldn't help but softly grin as she took another bite of her sandwich. "At least someone has some sense in them."

Birdie made a face, wiping at her lips with a napkin. "To be fair, Sam is the one who eats healthy and takes proper care of his body. . ."

"Dammit, Bird," Dean groaned, placing his burger down as he turned to fully face her. Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "Pick a side."

"No way," she snorted, "I've known you boy's long enough to know when to keep my mouth shut. . .sometimes. And there's sure as hell no way I'm gonna pick between you two," she said, firmly folding her hands over her chest, gaze going back and forth between the Winchesters. "You are both stuck with me——just like I'm stuck with the two of you."

"There are worse people to be stuck with," Dean replied, glancing towards Birdie.

She rolled her eyes and nudged him, causing him to laugh.

Sam opened his computer to continue his research, but much to his surprise, he discovered there'd been another attack. "Guys," he stated, voice firm. Dean and Birdie turned their heads, faces falling at the serious look on Sam's face. "There's been another attack. A couple——the husband didn't make it, but the wife was taken to the hospital."

"But I haven't finished my lunch yet," Birdie pouted.

"Perks of the job," Sam teased.

Birdie muttered under her breath and raised a brow at him. Then she turned head, raising her hand when their waitress glanced over in their direction. The woman brightly smiled, heading over with a light bounce in her step.

Sam's brows furrowed together, questionably looking at Birdie. "What're you doing?"

Birdie gave him an incredulous look. "You really think I'm gonna let this go to waste?"

"Remind me again why it took us so nine years to get along?" Dean hummed, reaching into his wallet to pull out some cash to pay for their meals. Birdie just breathed out a laugh instead of reminding him that she used to think he was very annoying and too full of himself. The waitress returned a moment later and Birdie asked for a to-go-box with a smile. The woman nodded and then quickly walked off, going to retrieve one for her.

"Why don't you two go to the hospital then and find out what you can while I check out the first crime scene?" Birdie suggested, slipping her arms back into her blazer that she'd shrugged off.

"Are you sure? You're still not meant to be——"

"Maybe you should——"

Birdie just made an awing sound, looking between the uncertain brothers while batting her eyelashes. It truly warmed her heart how much they cared and looked out for her, but she was fully capable of taking care of herself. Besides, she was perfectly fine.

She could handle inspecting a simple crime scene.

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Sadly, the first crime scene was pretty much a bust.

Birdie had easily managed to flash her badge, but before she examined the scene for herself, she asked a nearby detective about the recent attack to see if they knew what happened. She already knew a husband and wife were attacked, but that was it. The detective told her the couple had gotten lost in the woods during a hike when they found a small cottage. Apparently, a sweet old lady lived there and offered the couple some pie that had actually been poisoned. The wife didn't eat as much as her husband and witnessed the old lady butcher the poor man. And supposedly, a dark-haired little girl had just watched from a nearby window.

Birdie wasn't sure what to think of it, but if there was anything there, Sam and Dean would find it.

She then carefully examined the crime scene, finding plenty of blood splatter evident on the construction equipment from two of the brothers. There had been some EMF near one of the trailers, but that was about it.

She hoped Sam and Dean were having better luck than she was.

"Well, there's no sulfur anywhere. How about the EMF?"

"Yeah, it's going nuts. When I went over here by the window. . .there's definitely a spirit here."

lWho stood outside the crime scene and watched."

"Looks like."

While Birdie examined the first scene, Sam and Dean headed to the cottage in the woods as the police were no longer there. They'd easily snuck in under the yellow tape surrounding the small home, now dressed in normal clothes while Birdie was still in her pantsuit. They checked every nook and cranny, trying to figure out if there really had been a little girl there, or if perhaps there was something that looked like a little girl. And, it appeared there were signs of EMF, but only near the window——a window that would've given a clear view to the murder.

"What the hell do you make of that?" Dean wondered, lingering in the small kitchen, being wary of the blood coating the nearby furniture and floorboards.

"Actually I do have a theory," Sam replied with a faint tilt of his head. "Uh, sort of."

"Hit us."

"Well, thinkin' about fairy tales."

"Oh that's-that's nice," Dean taunted, an amused smile appearing on his lips. "You think about fairy tales often?"

"No, Dean, I'm talking about the murders," Sam said, holding his arm out for emphasis. "A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And then we got three brothers, arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf."

"Three Little Pigs," Dean said.

"Yeah."

"Actually those guys were a little chubby." Sam nodded in agreement, an indication that Dean was adding to his point. "Well, wait, I thought those things ended with, uh, everybody living happily ever after?"

Sam shook his head, grabbing his jacket he'd thrown over a chair. "No, no. Not the originals. See the Grimm Brothers' stuff was kinda the folklore of its day——full of sex, violence, cannibalism. Then it got sanitized over the years, turned into Disney flicks and bedtime stories."

Dean pulled away from checking out the window facing the front porch, turning towards Sam as he tugged on his jacket. "So you think the murders are, uh, what? A re-enactment? That's a little crazy."

"Crazy as what? Every day of our lives?"

"Touché," Dean replied. He headed towards the table, helping Sam pack up their equipment they'd brought in. "How's the creepy ghost girl involved?"

"Uhm. . .well, she must've been here for a reason. I'm willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site too. Hopefully Bird found something to confirm that."

"And if not?" Dean wondered. Sam just titled his head. "We still gotta do research even if she did, don't we?"

Sam merely shrugged in response, causing Dean to close his eyes in frustration; he hated doing research.

They quickly exited the cottage afterward, Dean going to call Birdie until Sam's phone started to ring seconds later. It'd startled him and Dean at first as they walked to the Impala, discovering that his ringtone had somehow changed.

Though the first crime scene was a bust, there was one thing that came from it——the EMF. It didn't make much sense to Birdie, but it was odd that she'd found hints of it there just like Sam and Dean had at the cottage. She didn't particularly believe Sam's fairytale theory when he explained it to her——after she'd dodged his question about getting on his phone somehow and changing her ringtone——but she was running with it seeing that it was their only lead. So, the brothers picked her up from the frost crime scene and headed to the library.

They split up once inside, Sam and Birdie hitting the books while Dean opted to use a computer on the opposite side. When Sam nor Birdie found anything except for a possible way for a little girl to be bouncing from crime to crime, they headed outside to meet with Dean who didn't look so happy.

Sam and Birdie, who Dean saw were sharing a bag of goldfish they'd got from a vending machine off to the side of the building, perked up when they spotted Dean. They immediately came to his side, the eldest Winchester sandwiched between the other two as they started to make their way into the park across the street where a few people were wondering about.

"So?" Sam pressed, hoping Dean found something useful about a little girl.

"Checked every record they had," Dean answered, his tone an indication that they weren't going to like what he had to say. "Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size."

"Okay," Birdie breathed out, rolling up the packet and stuffing it in her pocket to throw away later or until she spotted a trash can.

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

Sam and Birdie answered almost as soon as they entered the park. "Zero."

"Zero! You wanna know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? Right again. Zip. zilch, nada," Dean said, the three hurrying along the dirt path, birds chirping in the background. "Tell me you two've got something good 'cause I totally wasted the day."

Sam breathed out a laugh. "Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s."

"She got a thing for fairy tales?" Dean wondered.

"She did trances," Birdie answered this time, pushing some hair out of her eyes when the wind blew a few strands in her face. "She would go into an unconscious state where, like, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits."

"A ghost puppet master," Dean said.

"Pretty much," Birdie nodded.

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

Sam sighed. "Could be. You know, kinda like uh, uh, spirit hypnosis or somethin'."

"Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us."

Suddenly the trio stopped walking when they heard an odd sound. They slowly looked down at the path, spotting a bullfrog sitting on the ground, croaking.

"Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal," Sam retorted, turning towards Dean.

Dean slowly blinked, tilting his head towards the bullfrog as it croaked again and again. "All right, maybe it is fairy tales. Totally messed-up fairy tales. I tell you one thing, there's no way I'm kissing a fuckin' frog. Birdie can do the honors."

Birdie scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Fuck off, Dean," she snapped, shooting him a deadly glare. "I'd rather kiss a djinn."

"Hey," Sam called out, noticing something peculiar in the distance, and just in time as Birdie and Dean were starting to glare at each other, "Check that out."

Birdie pursed her lips and followed where Sam was pointing towards a house on the opposite side of the street. A bright orange pumpkin sat on the porch.

"Yeah? It's close to Halloween," Dean said, brows furrowed.

"You remember Cinderella? With the pumpkin that turns into a coach, and the mice that become horses?" Just as Sam spoke, a tiny mouse ran right past the pumpkin.

Dean turned his head to Sam, eyes slightly widened. "Dude, could you be more gay?" Sam looked to Dean, lips slightly parted. Dean shook his head a few seconds later. "Don't answer that."

Birdie huffed and hit Dean on the arm, causing him to wince. "Don't say that like it's a bad thing."

"That's not what I meant," Dean defended. Birdie just raised a brow. "It's-I——Sam!"

Birdie turned her head, a faint gasp escaping her lips when she spotted Sam already heading towards the house. She huffed to herself and hurried after him, Dean right behind her.

They silently walked up the rickety steps of the front porch, Birdie and Sam keeping an eye out as Dean picked the lock. He easily unlocked it after a few moments, Sam slowly pushing the door open as the floorboards creaking under their feet as they entered the home.

They carefully peered inside, not spotting anyone.

"Well who knows, maybe you'll find your fairy godmother?" Dean teased Sam. An annoyed expression appeared on Sam's face as Dean only smirked in return. His eyes flickered to Birdie, his smirking widening. "Maybe it's really you."

Birdie just lifted her hand and gave him the middle finger.

"Come on," Sam breathed out, gently grabbing Birdie's arm to guide her to the right side of the house. Dean snickered under his breath and went to the left, eyes roaming every inch of the older house.

Suddenly they heard a noise.

Sam and Birdie looked to Dean, each one drawing their guns out of precaution. Birdie followed behind Sam, her gun aimed in off to the side. Dean quickly closed the front door as he passed by it, trailing behind them as they continued to search the home.

When they heard another noise, Dean motioned for Sam and Birdie to head towards it. Dean followed.

"Help, I'm in here!" A female voice desperately cried out. They rushed towards the sound of the panicked voice, finding a teenage girl handcuffed to an oven. Her blonde hair clung to her skin, bruises evident on her pale skin as blood was smeared on her clothing and her face.

"Hey! Hey," Sam softly said, immediately lowering his gun and bending down in front of her with a gentle approach. "It's okay. We're here, we're here. We got you."

Birdie came around him, gun lowered along with Dean's as concern washed over her face.

Sam opened his lock pick kit, trying to find the one that'd get the handcuffs off the girl.

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

"What happened?" Birdie softly questioned.

"My step-mom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me. Chained me up."

"Where is she now?" Sam asked.

"I don't know."

Birdie frowned, glancing at the lock pick. Dean turned his head, looking through the kitchen door when he thought he saw something move. That was when he spotted the little dark-haired girl peeking out from the opposite room.

"Sam, Bird," Dean lowly said, his tone firm. Birdie stood up and moved behind Sam, her and Sam spotting the little girl as well. The little girl turned away when their eyes fell on her, but Dean took off after her.

He cautiously walked through the house to the entryway and saw the little girl standing in the living room. Upon seeing him, the little girl turned away and walked out of sight again. Dean followed her, but it appeared she was gone. Dean paused, suddenly hearing the floorboards creak behind him. He slowly turned around, spotting the little girl.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The little girl remained silent. Then, her body flickered and vanished into thin air much like a ghost.

He looked down to where she'd just been standing, seeing a red apple on the rug that most certainly wasn't there before. He picked up the apple, frustrated.

What the hell?

As he did that, Sam unlocked the girl from the handcuffs and Birdie bandaged her as best as she could until the ambulance arrived. She and Sam stayed with her until then, being able to ID themselves as detectives with their badges and had entered upon hearing the commotion. Once the girl was loaded up and an APB was put out for the step-mother, Sam and Birdie made their way to Dean.

He was casually sitting on the hood of the Impala, playing with the shiny apple.

"Paramedics picked up Cinderella," Sam told Dean, walking around the hood of the car as Birdie opted to stand in front of it.

"That's good," Dean said, still toying with the apple.

"Yeah."

Dean's eyes flickered aside, tossing the apple to Birdie who swiftly caught it. She grimaced, scrunching up her face in disgust. "I got a bad feeling about this. . ."

Dean snickered, eyes glancing towards his brother. "So. . .little girl, shiny red apple. I'm guessing that means something to you, fairy tale boy?"

"I think it's Snow White," Sam answered, catching the apple when Birdie tossed it to him.

"Sweet," Birdie grumbled, tucking her hands in the pockets of her blazer. "My least favorite princess story."

"Snow White, huh? I saw that movie," Dean said. "Or the porn version anyway, 'cause there was this wicked Step-mother? Woo, she was wicked," Dean said, a cheeky grin on his lips as images of the character popped into his mind. Birdie suddenly furrowed her brows together in thought, eyes moving to Dean. "What?"

"Nothing," Birdie quickly answered, clearing her throat.

Sam shook his head. "There is a wicked step-mother. And she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple."

"But the apple doesn't actually kill the girl, right?"

"No. Puts her into a deep sleep——so deep it's almost like she's dead."

Birdie hummed, twisting her lips.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

After stopping by the motel for Birdie to finally get changed out of her suit, the trip returned to the hospital. "No, sorry," a pretty blonde nurse said with a small frown. "We don't have any comatose little girls."

"You sure?" Sam asked.

The nurse nodded. "Totally. It's mostly old guys. And, well. . .Callie. She's been around since before I started here."

"Callie?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, it's so sad," the nurse said, eyes soft with pity. "And poor Dr. Garrison, he just. . .won't give up on her."

"Is Callie one of his patients?" Birdie pried.

"No. His daughter."

They asked for Callie's room number and then thanked the nurse for her help, heading to the room. When they arrived, they saw Dr. Garrison sitting at Callie's bedside, glasses perched on his nose, reading to her from The Complete Works and Tales of The Brothers Grimm.

". . .and the Huntsman stepped inside, and in the bed lay the Wolf. So the Huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut open the Wolf's belly."

Sam, Dean, and Birdie glanced at each other.

Dr. Garrison suddenly noticed them in the doorway, removing his glasses and putting the book down on the bed. He quietly stood up, walking over to them. He cleared his throat, coming to stand in front of them. "Detectives. Can I help you?"

"We just. . .heard that Callie is your daughter," Dean said.

"And we wanted to say how very sorry we are," Sam said.

Dr. Garrison nodded, hands placed on his hips. "Well, uh. Thank you. If you'll excuse me."

The three moved aside, allowing Dr. Garrison to slip past them. They turned after him, seemingly heading in the same direction. "Oh, heading this way?" Dean said. "We'll walk with you. How long's Callie been like that?"

"We don't mean to intrude, sir," Birdie quickly added in, a soft tone in her voice. Dr. Garrison slowed to a stop, glancing at the three.

"We can't possibly understand how hard it must be for you seeing her like this," Sam said.

Dr. Garrison solemnly nodded. "It's not easy. She's, uh, been here since she was eight years old."

"That's when she was poisoned?" Sam questioned, the four of them beginning to walk once again.

"Yeah, swallowed, uh, bleach. Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, uh, brought her to the ER here and I was on call."

"Your wife," Birdie started, glancing aside towards the doctor as she was to the right of him, "she was Callie's step-mother?"

Dr. Garrison stopped again and questionably looked towards Birdie. "Actually, yes. How'd you know that?"

Birdie shrugged, a small smile on her lips. "Lucky guess."

"Well, Julie was the only mother that, uh, Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and, uh. . .it's just my daughter and me now. She's all I've got left," Dr. Garrison said, pausing. "Um, excuse me. I've gotta get back to work."

Dean nodded in understanding. "Yeah."

Dr. Garrison walked away, the three sharing a look as they watched the doctor walk off. They started heading towards the exit, Sam now moving between Dean and Birdie.

"Well you're right," Dean said. "It's Snow White in spades."

"Yep. Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep," Sam replied. "What's the motive, you think?"

"Could be like Mischa Barton," Dean answered. Both Sam and Birdie scrunched their faces in confusion, eyes pinned to Dean. Dean noticed. "Sixth Sense, not the O.C."

The two only became more confused. "What?"

"Hey, you two know fairy tales, I know movies. She played the pasty ghost. You know the, uh, remember the mom had that thing you know, where you keep the kid sick so you get all the attention?"

"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy," Sam said, finally catching on as a smile appeared on his face. "Huh, could be."

Birdie slowly blinked, but she decided not to voice her confusion.

"So say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did?" Dean said as they entered the reception area of the hospital, moving to stand near the doors.

"And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out."

"Right. Meanwhile, she has to listen to Dad tell her these deranged stories about a rabid wolf or a cannibalistic old lady. It's enough to drive anybody nuts."

"But how are we gonna stop her?" Birdie wondered, standing to the side of the brothers. "Callie's stuck here——her father's keeping her body alive."

"It does make it a bit hard to burn the bones," Dean muttered.

Sam tilted his head."You think?"

"Coming in!"

The emergency doors opened and the trio watched as two EMTs brought in an old lady on a stretcher.

A doctor hastily rushed over, taking in the woman's state. "Okay, what's her status?"

The three slowly followed them to the emergency room, listening in on what was happening. "Seventy-two-year-old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia."

The doctor peered down at the woman's neck, brows furrowing together. "Is that a bite?"

"Looks like she was mauled by a mad dog, or maybe a wolf?"

Birdie felt her eyes widen, glancing to the brothers. "What was the last story Dr. Garrison read to Callie?"

"Little Red Riding Hood."

A few minutes after trying to tend to the old woman's wounds and save her life, a thin cover was thrown over her body. The trio stared in through the glass doors, exchanging grim glances. Then they turned away, approaching one of the EMTs that had brought the woman in.

"Excuse me," Sam said, capturing the dark-haired man's attention. He peered up, posture changing when they flashed their badges."Was she the only victim?"

The EMT nodded. "She was found by the side of the road, barely alive. Alone."

"We need to find her next of kin," Dean said.

The EMT glanced down at the papers in hand, flipping to the next page. "She has a granddaughter."

"Do you have an address?" Birdie asked. The EMT nodded and handed her the sheet of paper. "Thank you."

"Thanks," Sam and Dean said in unison.

They moved aside, Birdie peering at the paper until Dean took it out of her hands and she huffed. "Hey, you two find a way to stop Callie, all right?" Dean told them.

Sam scoffed, halting in the hall. "What about you?"

"I'm gonna go stop the Big Bad Wolf," he answered, facing Sam and Birdie as he made a face. "Which is the weirdest thing I've ever said."

"Shouldn't one of us go with you?" Birdie asked with a sigh, obvious concern swirling around in her eyes.

"No, no, I'll be fine." With that, he walked away before either of them could protest his solo mission. Birdie huffed in annoyance, firmly placing her hands on her hips while she and Sam stared after Dean.

"Next time I see him, I'm hitting him upside the head."

Sam let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head. "Come on," he said, catching Birdie's gaze. "We need to find Dr. Garrison."

The duo hurried through the hospital, spotting him coming out of a room and heading in the opposite direction.

"Dr. Garrison!" Sam called out, he and Birdie hurrying after the older man. "We need to speak with you."

"Detectives. What can I do for you?"

"Well, um. . .it's about Callie."

Dr. Garrison shifted, removing his glasses. "My daughter? What about her?"

"Could we maybe sit down for a minute?" Birdie requested.

Dr. Garrison lightly scoffed under his breath in annoyance. "No. What about her?"

"'Kay. Well, um," Sam sighed, unsure how Dr. Garrison would take to being told the truth——if he even believed them. "All right, Doctor, this isn't gonna be easy. What happened to Callie was not an accident."

"Excuse me?"

Birdie twisted her lips. "We're sorry, sir, but it's true."

"You have no idea what happened to my daughter," Dr. Garrison snapped, turning away from the two. Sam and Birdie simply followed him.

"There are things you don't know, Doctor, about your wife," Sam tried to explain.

"My wife?" Dr. Garrison repeated, briefly glancing over his shoulder.

"Julie poisoned Callie," Birdie blurted out.

Dr. Garrison halted, turning around to face Sam and Birdie in bewilderment just as he reached Callie's room. "Why would you say something so horrible to me?"

"Because we need your help," Sam answered.

"You two stay away from me, and from my daughter, you understand?"

"Doctor, this isn't. . .please, uh——"

Dr. Garrison rushed into Callie's room, shutting the door in their faces. They both heavily sighed, glancing at each other.

So much for trying to do it the easy way.

Sam opened the door a moment later, Birdie entering behind him and closing the door.

Dr. Garrison stepped away from Callie's side, pointing his finger at them as his feet guided him to the phone across the room. "I'm calling Security."

Dr. Garrison reached for the phone, but Sam clamped his hand over it to stop him. "No, listen. We don't have time to do this gently. If you don't listen to us, more people are going to get hurt, because Callie is going to hurt them."

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

"You're gonna think we're crazy, but just understand us. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit."

Dr. Garrison slowly looked over at his daughter, a sad look on his face. He made his way over to her, sitting at the end of her bed. He let out a sigh, facing Sam and Birdie. "So you've seen her too."

Neither one could hide their surprise at his confession.

A few blocks away, Dean found Little Red Riding Hood at the home address, but he also found the Big Bad Wolf who was out for more blood.

Birdie shifted, eyes flicking to Sam for a short moment. Dr. Garrison stood, standing on the side of the bed as Birdie and Sam stood across from him.

"I sensed her. . .Callie. Her presence, her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never. . ." Dr. Garrison paused, shaking his head in disbelief, "believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I——"

"It wasn't a dream," Sam said, hands tucked in his pockets. "She looks like she did when she was eight. White dress. Red ribbon in her hair. She's been trying to talk to you."

Dr. Garrison sighed. "You're not cops, are you?"

Birdie nervously twisted her lips. "No, sir."

"Then who are you?"

"People who know a little bit about this kind of thing."

"But what you said about my wife poisoning Callie, that's——"

"Sir," Sam interjected, seeing the way the mere thought was something the doctor couldn't seem to wrap his head around, "Callie told us."

"What?!"

"In her own way, she told us," Birdie told him.

Dr. Garrison firmly shook his head in denial. "My wife loved Callie. So how is-how is that possible?"

"We don't know. But it is."

"No. No I-I don't believe you."

"Look, Callie is killing people," Sam stressed, voice soft but completely serious. "She's angry. She's desperate because nobody will listen to her. So you have to listen to her. Please, listen to your daughter."

A few moments later, Dr. Garrison heavily sighed, sitting on the bed with his eyes pinned to his daughter.

Dean fought with the man who was the big bad wolf, grunting as they went back and forth with each other. Callie's spirit watched on from the opposite room, but she was soon distracted by the sound of her father's voice speaking to her.

"Callie? Callie, it's Daddy."

Callie's spirit flickered and disappeared from the room.

"It's me, Daddy. Is it true? Mommy did that to you? I–I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now," Dr. Garrison said, tears brewing in his eyes. "Daddy's here. Please honey, is-is there any way that you can tell me?"

Birdie's gaze flickered aside, her and Sam catching sight of Callie's eight-year-old self standing on the other side of the room.

"Doctor. . ."

Dr. Garrison looked up at Sam and Birdie who nodded towards the other side of him. That was when he saw Callie's spirit, looking sad and exhausted.

Dr. Garrison slowly turned his body to face her, blinking back tears as he shakily exhaled. "Is it true?"

Callie's spirit nodded.

Dr. Garrison let out a deep breath, tears rolling down his cheeks, faintly shaking his head as he tried to wrap his head around the truth of what happened to his daughter and that she was there in front of him. "Oh–I'm so sorry, baby. But listen to me. You gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go."

Dr. Garrison moved and faced Callie's body in the hospital bed. He gently caressed her face and tenderly kissed her forehead.

A moment later, the monitors buzzed and then flatlined.

Sam and Birdie looked down almost in sync, saddened.

Dr. Garrison wept over Callie, gingerly stroking her hair. He looked to where her spirit had been standing, but she was gone.

Sam and Birdie silently left the room, wanting to give the man a moment alone. They walked down to the nurse's station, Sam pulling out his phone to call Dean. Thankfully, he'd defeated the big bad wolf and was on his way there after he called an ambulance, leaving once he knew the little girl was safe and the man that was made into the wolf was no longer a threat. He made it to the hospital only a few minutes later, finding his brother and Birdie just as Dr. Garrison reached them where Dean explained what happened.

"And the girl's okay?" Dr. Garrison asked. Dean nodded. Dr. Garrison let out a sigh of relief, looking between the three hunters. "So. It's really over."

"Yeah," Birdie replied with a nod. "Thanks to you."

"Callie was the most important thing in my life. But I should've let her go a long time ago."

"See ya 'round, Doc," Dean said as the doctor moved to get back to work.

Dr. Garrison let out a shaky sigh, letting out a light laugh. "I sure hope not." Then he patted Dean on the shoulder and headed in the opposite direction. They silently watched him leave, slowly facing each other after a few seconds.

"You know what he said?" Dean asked, nodding almost as if he agreed with it, but for a completely different reason. "Some good advice."

Sam instantly caught on, eyes slightly narrowed as he looked to Dean. "Is that what you want me to do, Dean? Just let you go?"

Dean didn't answer as he glanced to the floor. He raised his head a second later, looking between Sam and Birdie for a long moment. Then he silently turned around, heading for the exit. Sam thickly swallowed, his and Birdie's eyes following Dean as they were left alone.

Without a word, Birdie moved, her head tilting to rest on Sam's broad shoulder.

"We'll figure this out, Sam," she whispered, eyes filled with sadness. "We always do."

"No time to die, right?" Sam asked in almost a whisper, repeating the four words he'd heard Birdie say ever since he knew her. It was a silly little saying she had found herself saying every once in a while, finding it rather ironic in her line of work; not that she died a lot, or ever had, but that she could die at any moment though she fought to stay alive as she still had monsters to slay. It'd stuck with her throughout the years, and the brothers, sometimes teasing the woman about it. This time, there was no humor in Sam's voice as he spoke.

Birdie slowly lifted her head, meeting his gaze. She offered him a timid smile, silently nodding her head in agreement.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

I've had this finished for a while but I've been super focused on prewriting for this book, so I'm sorry!

Hopefully Birdie fit this episode well and y'all liked the additional scenes! I did cut some out, but I can't include the entire episode, so :)))) I'll also probably make some errors like having the wrong character say a line or there's different movements or scenery since I'm using transcripts I found online (which aren't always correct) while watching the episodes, but I can't promise the scenes will be the exact same. Some'll probably be altered on purpose, and I hope y'all won't mind.

BUT HEY I DO PROMISE BOBBY'LL BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER!!! It'll also star another oc who I actually love already and have a lot more plans for when I literally only had three or so things in mind for that character, but I hope y'all will like it <3333

Anyways, please don't forget to leave your feedback in the comments and I hope y'all enjoyed!