CHAPTER TWENTY TWO:
RISING OF THE WITNESSES.

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SEATED IN A rickety old chair next to Bobby's desk in the living room, Birdie's dark eyes were narrowed as she looked between Sam and Dean who were in the kitchen. Bobby was at his desk, a book placed in front of him with a few more stacked off on both sides of the surface with a dimming fire going in the fireplace behind him. The dusty lamp in the corner of the desk was turned on and pointed toward the book he'd been reading for the last few minutes, his eyes trying to skim over the many words, but it was proving to be difficult as Sam and Dean bickered back and forth.

"Well, then tell me what else it could be."

"Look, all I know is I was not fuckin' groped by an angel."

"Okay, look, Dean." Birdie casually leaned back in the chair, letting out a heavy sigh. Bobby turned to the next page in the book, huffing in annoyance as he lifted his head. "Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?"

"Maybe he's some kind of demon," Dean said. "Demons lie."

Sam threw his head back with frustration, holding out his hand as Dean moved towards the kitchen counter. Birdie still wasn't sold on the idea that an angel had managed to pull Dean out of Hell, but she didn't feel like voicing her thoughts and getting dragged into their argument at the moment. "A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps. . .and Ruby's knife?! Dean, fucking Lilith is scared of that damn thing!"

Dean leaned against the counter, sternly facing Sam who was still seated at the table. "Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one. . .at some point. . .ever?"

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding his head. "You just did, Dean."

"I'm tryna to come up with a theory here, okay?" Dean harshly snapped, narrowed eyes pinned on Sam. "Work with me."

"Dean, we have a theory."

"Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please."

Birdie rolled her eyes, turning her head towards Bobby who met her gaze. "Is this why you always forced us to play outside when we were kids?"

"Yes," Bobby nonchalantly answered. Birdie blinked in surprise, not actually expecting Bobby to admit it. He glanced at her when she kept her eyes on him, shrugging his shoulders when he noticed her expression.

"——not gonna believe that this thing is a fuckin' Angel of the Lord because it says so!"

The two looked at the Winchesters again, seeing Dean standing in front of Sam, both of them looking incredibly frustrated with each other over the never-ending back and forth argument. Neither of them were about to back down and admit defeat.

"You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?" Bobby finally asked. Birdie scooted her chair closer, craning her neck to look at the page Bobby had opened in the book while Sam and Dean made their way over to stand in front of the desk. Sam placed his hands on his hips, examining the books Bobby had splayed out on the desk. "I got stacks of lore——Biblical, pre-Biblical," Bobby said. As he spoke, Dean subconsciously reached up, touching his arm where the brand still marked his arm; Birdie wasn't sure what could do something like that, but an angel still didn't seem very likely. "Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit."

"What else?" Dean asked, missing the pointed look Sam gave him.

"What else, what?"

"What else could do it?"

"Airlift your fuckin' ass out of the hot box?" Bobby asked, raising his brows. "As far as I can tell, nothing."

Bobby leaned back in the chair, looking up at the boys. Sam shifted, a small smile appearing on his lips. "Dean, this is good news."

"How?" Dean wondered.

"Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon bullshit," Sam answered. "I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?"

"Okay. Say it's true," Dean said, twisting his lips as he faintly shook his head, briefly glancing around at the others. "Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?"

"At this point, Vegas money's on yeah," Bobby said, tilting his head to one side.

"I don't know, guys," Dean said, facing away as he distanced himself from the desk.

"Okay, look. I-I know you're not all choirboy about this shit, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof," Sam said, smacking his hand against his other one for emphasis.

Dean spun around to look at Sam, brows furrowed and head tilted. "Proof?"

"Yes."

"Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a shit about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not fuckin' buyin' it," Dean firmly said, looking from Birdie and over to Bobby.

"Why not?" Sam asked, demanding to know.

"Because why me?" Dean retorted, glancing at the three before he spoke again. "If there is a God out there, why would he give a shit about me?!"

"Dean——"

"I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks," Dean said, speaking over Birdie. She huffed, slouching back in the chair with her head tilted to one side. "But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy."

"Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs," Sam countered.

Dean turned his attention to Bobby, hoping to see a different expression upon his features, but Bobby only nodded as he agreed with Sam. "Well, that creeps me out. I mean, I don't like gettin' singled out at birthday parties, much less by. . .God."

Sam folded his arms over his chest. "Okay, well, too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat." Those words caused a heavy sigh to leave Dean's lips, eyes briefly flickering towards the floor. Bobby raised his brows, giving Dean a look when he lifted his gaze.

Dean cleared his throat, momentarily closing his eyes. "All right. What do we know about angels?"

Bobby leaned forward and picked up a pile of hefty books, placing them in front of Dean with a loud thud. "Start readin'."

Dean examined the pile of books, turning toward Sam to point his finger at him. "You're gonna get me some pie." Then he slammed his hand down on the first book in the pile, snatching it into his hand before walking toward the kitchen again.

Birdie snickered under her breath, catching Sam's eye. But, before he could speak, Dean walked back over and pointed his finger at her in the same manner he'd done to Sam. "And you're stayin' with me."

Birdie gaped, abruptly shooting up from the chair. "The hell I am!"

Sam quietly chuckled and nudged his head to the side as a notion for her to follow. "C'mon, Bird——before he drags you in there with him."

Birdie didn't need to be told twice.

She hurried towards her jacket and purse that were placed on the couch, snatching them up. She paused to give Rumsfeld a quick kiss on the head as he laid on the couch, a small smile on his lips. Bobby silently watched Birdie with his brows raised, shaking his head as he saw her grab Sam's hold of Sam's hand and yank him towards the door.

"Damn kids," Bobby sighed to himself, shaking his head as he grabbed one of the books from the stack.

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Birdie shook her head with a faint chuckle, glancing aside at Sam as he parked the Impala in front of a small diner. "Yes, Dean, I'll get the chips," Sam said, a smile on his face as he held his phone to his ear. He reached for the door handle, both him and Birdie climbing out to head inside the small diner they were parked near. "Dude. When have I ever forgotten the pie? Exactly."

Birdie shook her head and glanced towards the diner, spotting a few truck drivers heading inside. She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and took a few steps forward only to do a double-take when she spotted Ruby standing near the corner of the building, her gaze already fixated on them. Sam glanced over at Birdie after he shut his door, noticing the weary expression on her face. He followed her gaze with curiosity, spotting Ruby as well.

"I gotta go. Yeah, all right. Bye."

Birdie heavily sighed while Sam's footsteps crunched over the gravel behind her, his hand on the small of her back as he guided her over to the side of the building. Ruby carefully watched them, glancing between them as they came to a stop in front of her just enough so they were out of sight of those who were coming and going from the diner.

"Ruby," Sam said, unable to hide his surprise that she was there.

"So, is it true?" Ruby asked.

Birdie raised her brows, giving the demon a look. "Is what true?"

"Did an angel rescue Dean?"

Sam and Birdie shared a subtle look before Sam replied. "You heard."

An older man walked past them, all three briefly glancing at him as if making sure he wasn't someone that might recognize them. Sam gave him a small smile and a nod in acknowledgment, facing Ruby once the man was out of earshot. "Who hasn't?" Ruby said.

"We're not 100% sure, but we think so," Sam said, placing his hands on his hips.

"Okay," Ruby quietly said, faintly nodding her head. "Bye, guys."

Ruby turned and started to walk away, but Sam reached forward and grabbed her arm. She whipped around, facing him with a hint of annoyance. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait," Sam said. "What's going on?"

"Guys, they're angels. I'm a demon," Ruby said. "They're not gonna care if I'm being helpful. They smite first, and then they ask questions later."

Birdie sighed, folding her arms over her chest. "Do you know anything about them?"

"Not much," she answered. "I've never met one, and I don't really wanna. All I know is that they scare the holy hell out of me. You two need to watch yourselves."

Sam breathed out a chuckle. "I'm not scared of angels."

Ruby blinked at his response, simply turning away without sparing either of them another glance. Birdie shifted next to Sam, breathing out a sigh as Ruby disappeared around a corner. "It's good she's scared of angels, right?" Birdie asked, turning to face Sam.

Sam sighed, turning to look at her. "I don't know."

Birdie glanced around the parking lot just to make sure there weren't any more demons in the area, the scent of food wafting around the corner as someone exited the diner. A small grin appeared on her lips, realizing she hadn't eaten anything yet. "I don't know about you, but I'm fuckin' starving," Birdie said, gesturing for Sam to follow her. He softly smiled and trailed behind her, entering the diner just as someone slipped out. The bell jingled above them, signaling to the people inside of newcomers. Some turned to look their way while others stayed focused on their food and conversations, used to the sound of people flowing in and out. Birdie headed toward one of the booths near one of the windows, taking a seat as Sam sat across from her. "Are you fine with eating in? Or do you wanna take it to go?"

Sam shrugged, his dimples poking out as his smile lingered on his lips. "Eating in sounds good."

Birdie grinned as well and grabbed two menus from the bin near the window, handing one to Sam. "Thanks," Sam softly said, placing it in front of him.

As they looked over the menu, the waitress dressed in a light yellow dress came over as she held out her notepad. "Hi, there," she greeted, smiling brightly at the pair. "Ready to order?"

"Yeah, I'll, uh, have one of your breakfast salads with a coffee," Sam started, pointing to one of the menu items on the list.

The waitress jotted it down, nodding her head as she hummed. "Want any bacon added onto it?"

"No, thank you," Sam replied, shaking his head as he offered an awkward smile.

"I'll take his bacon," Birdie grinned, hearing Sam quietly chuckle. "I'll take some of your chocolate chip pancakes and orange juice."

"Excellent choices," the waitress beamed, nodding her head as she tucked away the notepad. "I'll get your drinks and the food should be out in just a few minutes!"

After the waitress came back with their drinks, the two had fallen into a comfortable silence as they waited for their food. The diner buzzed with life, from the truckers to the kitchen staff shouting orders one after another. Despite the chaos that was frequent in truck stop diners, it was a nice distraction from everything going on back at Bobby's.

"What do you think the angels want with Dean?" Birdie voiced her thoughts, eyes flickering back to Sam to see him already watching her.

"Honestly, I have no idea," Sam breathed out, looking down at his hands for a brief moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm just. . .I'm glad to have my brother back, even if it is with strings attached to angels."

"Yeah, Dean bein' back is all that matters," Birdie softly said, nodding her head as she agreed. "What kind of name is Castiel for an angel, anyway?"

Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Beats me," he said.

Birdie opened her mouth as if she was going to speak, but her lips smacked shut when she saw a figure approaching their table.

"Here's the food for you two!" the waitress cut off the conversation, placing their plates down in front of them. She set some extra syrup and whipped cream down for Birdie near her orange juice before she turned to look at their drinks. "Want any refills?"

"We're good for now, thanks."

"Alright, let me know if you need anything else," the waitress cheerfully replied, giving them a nod before she walked off to check on another table.

Birdie immediately dug into her food after pouring a hefty amount of syrup onto her pancakes. They ate in relative silence, muttering a few words about how good their food was. The waitress, who they learned was named Gemma, had come over again to check on them but they had no complaints.

"This is nice," Birdie commented, smiling as she sipped on her orange juice.

"The food?"

"Well, the food is nice," Birdie said, nodding as she spoke. "But, I meant eating out together. It's kinda peaceful——we should do this more often, Sammy."

Sam smiled, dimples slightly poking out. "Is that your way of saying you needed some space from Dean?"

"What? Of course not," Birdie said, shaking her head in denial. "It's just. . .everyone's on edge right now——even Ruby. And I'm not-I'm not sure about angels, but. . .a moment of peace is nice, you know."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it is." However, that peace did not last as Sam's phone began to ring just a few minutes later. He sighed, looking at the caller ID. "It's Dean. I'll be right back."

Birdie watched him leave the table and step outside, finishing the last of her pancakes. Sam had already finished his salad a few minutes prior, the empty plate pushed towards the edge of the table as a sign that he was done with it. Birdie picked up her drink as she leaned back in her seat, downing the last of her orange juice. Then she used a napkin and wiped at the corners of her mouth, tossing it on her plate. She stacked Sam's plate on hers, looking aside when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She smiled, spotting the waitress already heading towards her.

"Ready for the check, darling?"

"I am," Birdie said, nodding. "Do you guys have any pie by chance?"

"A whole one or a slice?"

"Either, but if you have a whole one for sale. . ." Knowing Dean, he was willing to eat a whole pie on his own; and if Birdie could score one, that might just make up for her ditching doing research with him for getting food with Sam.

"We do have one whole pie left. It's the chef's special——apple pie," Gemma grinned. "Is that okay?"

"That's perfect."

After a few minutes, the waitress was back with a boxed pie and the bill. Birdie paid for it with some spare cash in her wallet, saying thank you to the waitress before she headed outside to see Sam was still on the phone.

Sam's eyes caught her and he bid Dean a goodbye, the two of them falling into step as they headed towards Baby. "Everything okay?" Birdie wondered, moving towards the passenger side door.

"Dean wants us back," Sam answered, walking to the driver's side before getting inside as well.

Birdie climbed in as well, setting the pie in between them. "Did he say what's going on?"

"No," Sam said. "Just that it's serious."

"Alright," Birdie nodded, leaning back against the leather seat. "Let's see what trouble we're in this time."

Sam pulled up to Bobby's not long after they stopped at a gas station for some food for Dean as per his request after finding out they'd gone to a diner and ate without him. Sam and Birdie looked out of the window to see Dean and Bobby packing up the trunk of Bobby's car. Bobby walked over as Sam pulled to a stop and leaned against the passenger window. "Keep the engine runnin," he said.

"What's goin' on?" Sam asked, stealing a glance towards Dean who was still near Bobby's car, making sure everything was fitting inside.

"I got a friend one state over——Olivia Lowry. I've been trying to reach her for three days on this angel shit," Bobby said, a faint frown on his lips. "It's not like her to ignore this many calls."

"Olivia Lowry——a hunter, right?" Sam asked, vaguely remembering the woman. Birdie frowned, not recognizing the name; then again, she was the least social of the four of them with other hunters so she wasn't exactly surprised that she didn't recognize the name.

"Yeah. We're gonna go check on her. You guys follow me."

Dean approached the driver's side of the car as Bobby headed over to his own car. "Scoot over," Dean told Sam, already reaching for the door handle.

Birdie sighed and climbed out of the Impala, peering into the window. "I'm gonna drive myself this time," she said, giving them a cheeky smile.

"You sure?" Dean said, a playful smile etched on his lips. "Don't wanna sit between me and Sammy again?"

Birdie chuckled, shaking her head. "Maybe next time."

Dean snickered and glanced around, not spotting any chips or a slice of pie. "Dude?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's the pie?" Dean asked, looking towards Sam in disbelief.

Sam's eyes slightly widened, turning towards Birdie. She chuckled to herself, realizing she'd gotten out of the car with it. She sighed, holding the pie and bag of food out to Dean. Dean immediately grinned and grabbed the food, meeting Birdie's gaze. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Not since you came back from the dead," Birdie said, tilting her head to the side.

Dean chuckled and sat the pie between him and Sam. "I love you, Bird."

"Yeah, yeah. I love you, too." she giggled, turning her head towards Sam. "Aw, and I love you as well, Sammy."

Sam chuckled, a small twinkle in his eyes as he met her gaze. "Love you, too, Bird."

"Now are you guys gonna kiss or what?" Sam and Birdie both looked at Dean, giving him identical glares.

Birdie huffed and shook her head, walking away from the Impala and towards her motorcycle that was parked near a rusted mini van. She opened the compartment on the side, making sure she had everything she might need still inside it. She double-checked that her duffle bag was still well attached after Bobby repaired the broken strap for her, nodding to herself when seeing it was.

"You ready, kiddo?" Bobby called out.

"Yeah," Birdie said, picking up her helmet and sinking onto the leather seat. She tugged the helmet over her head, giving Bobby a thumbs up once she turned the ignition.

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Bobby cautiously entered the two story house with a loaded gun in hand, Sam, Dean, and Birdie close behind with their own weapons in hand. "Olivia?" Bobby called out, entering the kitchen off to the left of the entryway. Birdie and the boys trailed behind him, stopping near the doorway when Bobby suddenly halted. Birdie followed his gaze, face instantly faltering when she saw the woman's body laid near the couch in the living room, her chest torn open with her ribs broken and sticking out. Dried blood was pooled around her torso, stained into her clothing while her open eyes blankly gazed off to the side. A gun was on the ground next to her, more blood splattered on the weapon.

Bobby quickly turned away from the body, heading towards the door without a word. "Bobby?" Dean asked, but Bobby ignored him as he exited the house.

Birdie quietly sighed to herself and held her gun at her side, slowly following Sam and Dean as they moved into the living room. "Salt line," Sam said, motioning towards the doorway that separated the kitchen and living room. Birdie couldn't bring herself to look at Olivia's mangled body again, instead following Dean over to the arsenal on the other side of the room while Sam crouched down to inspect Olivia's body. Birdie's eyes flickered over the different kinds of guns Olivia owned, some salt round bullets knocked on the floor. Dean was standing beside her, both of them spotting the EMF meter.

Dean picked it up, peering down at it before he held it up for Sam to see. "Olivia was rockin' the EMF meter."

Sam nodded, head resting on his hand that was propped up on his knee. "Spirit activity."

Dean sat the EMF meter back down, facing Sam and Birdie. "Yeah——on steroids. I never seen a ghost do this to a person." Bobby entered the room again, his phone in his hand. Sam stood back up, watching Bobby. "Bobby, you all right?"

"I called some hunters nearby. . ."

"Good," Dean said. "We can use their help."

". . .Except they ain't answering their phones either."

"Something's up, huh?" Sam asked, a glum expression on his features.

"You think?" Bobby stole one last look at Olivia's body, silently walking away after a few seconds. Birdie deeply frowned, sharing a concerned look with Sam and Dean.

Birdie already had an unsettling feeling stirring inside, but she could feel it worsening as she thought about what might've happened to the other hunters Bobby couldn't get ahold of. She wanted to believe there was a logical reason they weren't answering either, but she should've known better.

A few hours had passed and the same thing that happened to Olivia had happened to other hunters as well. Birdie didn't understand why or how, but she did know that multiple hunters were dead and there was a high possibility that they were next on the list. She had split from Bobby and the boys to check on the other hunters, checking on the last hunter on Bobby's list; like the rest, they were dead, too.

Birdie was headed back to Bobby's after giving him the news, wind sweeping against her as she floored it down the narrow highway. It was eerily dark out, not a single star twinkling above despite the sky being the clearest it'd been in days. Only one other car had passed Birdie in the last forty minutes, most people opting for the safer roads a few miles away than the one Birdie was traveling on.

She sped around a corner, hands tightly gripping the handle bars. The road ahead was clear, but when she blinked, she spotted a young girl standing in the middle of the road. She gasped and slammed on the brakes, the sound of the tires squealing piercing the night air. She firmly planted her feet on the ground once she stopped, wide eyes peering at the empty road ahead of her. What the fuck? That couldn't have been her imagination.

Could it?

Birdie frantically looked around for any sign of the girl, but Birdie was completely alone. She let out a shaky breath as she faced the woods beside her, shaking her head. It was only her imagination. She faced forward again, breath catching in her throat when she saw the girl standing directly in front of her. "Jesus," she breathed out, looking the girl up and down. Her eyes fell on the girl's neck, eyes widening when she saw her throat had been slit, the dried blood seeped into her shirt.

Instantly Birdie recognized the girl. "Nancy. . ."

Nancy Lantz, the girl Serena had murdered because she thought the girl would bring trouble to her family, peered straight at Birdie as if she could somehow see her face through the helmet.

Birdie cautiously reached up, lifting her helmet to see the girl more clearly. Nancy lifted her head as she locked eyes with Birdie, narrowing her icy blue eyes. "I was hoping you'd remember me. . .it is your fault I'm dead."

"N-Nancy, I——"

"You did nothing, Birdie," Nancy snapped, taking a step closer. Birdie instinctively tightened her grip on the handles. "You just stood back and let your precious mother murder me, but my death is on you."

"Nancy, I——"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry," Nancy said, body briefly flickering. Birdie gulped, wondering how she could grab her gun without alerting Nancy. You can't. "If you were really sorry, you would've stopped her, talked her out of it, screamed at her. . .anything! But no, you stayed quiet. My parents were only two doors down——if you would've just said something a little too loud, they would've heard you. . .and I would still be alive."

Birdie grunted and reached around towards her duffle bag, but her hand was roughly grabbed. Nancy harshly yanked Birdie off her motorcycle, causing it to fall on its side with a loud thud and a few crunching noises. "Nancy, please," Birdie whimpered, feeling Nancy tightly gripping her wrist.

Nancy gritted her teeth together, shoving Birdie backwards. She tumbled at the harsh force, body colliding with the rough pavement. She hissed as her head hit the ground, face scrunching in pain. Nancy came over and grabbed Birdie by the shoulders, lifting her up and slamming her body back into the ground. Birdie grunted, narrowing her eyes up at Nancy. One of her hands reached aside, feeling something cold touch her hand. She grabbed it, swinging it through Nancy. She dissipated and Birdie peered at the object in her hand, letting out a breath of relief when she realized it was an iron rod.

She frantically scrambled to her feet, tightly gripping the rod with both hands as her eyes searched for any sign of Nancy. She could feel the pain stinging in her back still, the back of head throbbing. She gulped and reached down, pushing her feet into the ground as she yanked her bike back up. She nudged the kickstand out and scrambled for her guns and ammo that had fallen out of her duffle bag along with the iron rod, continuously peering around for any sign of Nancy. She crammed them all back into her bag as fast as possible, heart racing. Move, move, move!

She went to swing her leg over the motorcycle, but she stopped when she saw her breath fan out in front of her. "You didn't think it would be that easy, did you?" Birdie spun around with the rod raised, but her face fell when she didn't see Nancy behind her. "You're just as stupid as your mother said."

Birdie bit the inside of her cheek and turned on her heel. Nancy swung at Birdie, her nails scratching along her cheek as the punch sent Birdie staggering to the side. She scrunched her nose and reached up with her free hand, feeling it become wet; no doubt blood. "You should've moved this fast before your mother slit my throat," Nancy snarled, flickering from behind the bike and appearing right in front of Birdie. She punched her in the face, sending her crashing to the ground again. The rod clattered from Birdie's hand, rolling out of reach as Nancy crouched down, pulling Birdie towards her by the collar of her shirt. She swung her first over and over, her pent up rage fueling her brutal punches. Birdie could taste blood in her mouth, a stinging sensation spreading through her bottom lip. Nancy then dropped her to the ground, Birdie's eyes sealed shut as her entire face ached. Heavy pants spilled from her mouth, some blood smeared on her teeth and part of her mouth while more was on her cheek.

Nancy sucked in sharp breaths, enraged eyes peering down at Birdie. Birdie didn't make any move to stand, eyes still shut while her chest rose and fell. Nancy scoffed and bent down, but suddenly Birdie rolled over, using her foot to pull the rod closer. Nancy's eyes widened and watched Birdie swung the rod, swishing Nancy away.

Birdie winced as she got back on her feet, this time not wasting any time as she got back on her bike and punched it all the way to Bobby's.

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"Still no answer?"

Sam's concerned filled eyes answered Dean's question when he glanced over his shoulder towards his brother. Dean heavily sighed, shaking his head.

This wasn't good.

"I'm gonna go look for her," Sam said after a few moments, starting to move towards the door of Bobby's panic room. Rumsfeld softly whimpered, sitting up on the bed where he was laid.

"The fuck you are," Dean said, wide eyes meeting Sam's. Bobby stared at him, brows raised. "The minute you step outside——"

"I don't give a shit," Sam interjected. "She could be in trouble. I'm not just gonna sit here and do nothing——"

"You can't help her if you're dead, Sam," Bobby said, giving the boy a look.

"I'm goin' and there's no——"

BANG!

Their hearts simultaneously dropped.

That was unmistakably a gunshot.

"Birdie," Sam whispered.

Without a second thought Sam darted out of the panic room, Dean and Bobby hurrying after him with weapons in hand. Rumsfeld stayed on the bed as ordered by Bobby, whimpering as their footsteps pounded up the basement stairs.

Birdie skidded to an abrupt stop next to Baby in front of Bobby's, clambering off of the seat. She'd done her best to wipe the blood from her face as she'd sped into Sioux Falls in case someone were to spot her and see the blood, but her bottom lip was still cut and the scratch marks on her cheek were clear as day. But, she didn't stop until she made it to Bobby's, a gnawing feeling clawing at her the whole way that said Nancy would finish her off if she stopped before she reached Bobby's. She could've sworn she caught a glimpse of Nancy around the corner as she pulled in, but she ignored it as she tried to park as close to the house as possible.

She frantically glanced around as she stood beside her bike, making sure there wasn't any sign of Nancy yet. Then she zipped open her duffle bag with shaky hands, fingers grabbing a handful of salt rounds to reload her shotgun. She placed the gun on the seat, quickly reloading it so she was prepared.

"We're not finished yet." Birdie tensed, letting out a sigh when she heard the voice. She slowly turned around, twisting her lips as she came face to face with Nancy again. "You really think you're gonna get away with killing me?"

Birdie gulped, tightening her grip on the gun. "No." Then she lifted the gun, shooting Nancy directly in the face.

She disappeared and Birdie unhooked her duffle bag from her bike, quickly pulling it off. She headed towards the house, but she was roughly shoved to the side before she could reach the porch steps. She hissed as she smashed against a rusted car, her gun clattering away from her hand along with her bag. She tumbled towards the ground, hands scraping against the gravel as she attempted to catch herself. She groaned and rolled onto her back, gasping as she blinked up towards the morning sky.

"Stupid girl," Nancy sneered, moving to stand in front of Birdie. Birdie grunted, gritting her teeth as she tried to back away from Nancy who was quickly approaching Birdie. "Your mother was right about you." Birdie's face fell, watching Nancy flicker before she was suddenly kneeling over her in a daunting manner. She gasped in surprise, gasping as Nancy placed her hand on her chest and pushed her down, a wicked smile spreading across her pale lips. "And you'll die just like her."

Birdie screamed out as Nancy dug her sharp nails into her chest, pushing in further as blood started to stain Birdie's clothes. She tossed her head back, clenching her eyes shut as Nancy pushed deeper, starting to drag her nails down further like she was trying to slice Birdie open as her screaming got louder.

A gunshot suddenly rang out, echoing throughout the junkyard. Nancy disappeared, causing Birdie's eyes to snap open.

"Birdie!" Sam shouted, rushing to her side. Dean and Bobby were a little ways behind him, hurrying over with their guns in hand and eyes scanning the area for any sign of the ghost. Sam kneeled beside Birdie, noticing the blood and the pained look on her face as she finally opened her eyes. "Hey, hey, I gotcha. I gotcha, Bird."

"Get inside! Now!" Bobby said.

Sam carefully slipped his arms under her and picked her up bridal style, frowning as she softly whimpered at the motion. Birdie tightly held onto Sam, panic coursing through her body. Dean bent down and picked up Birdie's gun and bag, nudging Sam to hurry back inside ahead of him. Bobby led the way, leading Sam and Dean back into the basement.

They raced into the panic room and slammed the door behind them, cutting off any spirits that were chasing after them. Sam headed over towards the bed near the wall, gently placing Birdie down on the thin mattress as Rumsfeld sat beside it. His tail started to wag the minute he saw Birdie, but he whined when seeing the panic on Sam's face.

Birdie tried to sit up the minute she was on the bed, but Sam placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down. "Hey, hey, just wait a second," he said, hearing her sigh as she turned to look at him. "You're still bleeding, Bird."

"I'm fine," Birdie huffed, trying to sit up again. This time, Dean came up from the other side, pushing her back down. Birdie looked up, Dean peering down at her with a stern expression. "Guys, come on. Now's not——"

"You're not goin' anywhere 'till we actually know you're fine," Bobby said, giving her a firm look.

Birdie rolled her eyes in frustration but didn't try to sit up again. She sighed and glanced aside, her eyes moving from Bobby and back to Sam who was still sitting beside the bed. He sighed as well, giving her a look. "That's. . .that's a lot of blood, Bird," Sam said.

Birdie frowned, lifting her head to see the blood that had stained through the front of her shirt. "Oh, uh. . .yeah. That's. . .a band-aid should work, right?"

"Birdie."

Birdie shook her head, pushing herself to sit up; she didn't have time to just lie around. When Dean and Sam reached over to stop her, she whacked both of their hands away while shooting them both dark glares. "Would you two fuckin' stop that? God, it's like I've never been hurt before," she huffed. She shifted on the bed, lazily leaning against the wall. She winced slightly when she felt a sharp pain go through her back, causing Sam's eyes to slightly widen. "I'm fine. I think all I need is to just. . .clean up."

"You're not hurt anywhere else?" Dean asked, giving her a look that told her he wouldn't be happy if she lied to him.

"No," Birdie said.

"That ghost out there do all that to you?" Bobby wondered, concern etched on his face.

Birdie nodded, gingerly touching her lip only to immediately regret it when the cut on her lip stung from the touch. She dropped her hand down at her side, looking at the three. "Yeah," she answered, nodding her head. "She's a lot stronger than I would've thought. . ."

"Who was she?" Dean wondered, leaning against the metal frame of the bed. Rumsfeld jumped up on the bed, causing Birdie to smile when he curled up beside her and laid his head in her lap.

Birdie's eyes flickered towards Sam for a moment, silently wondering if he remembered seeing the girl in Birdie's head when she was locked inside her own mind by Jeremy Frost a while back. She couldn't tell if he recognized her or not, but at the moment she was thankful for that. She didn't think she could handle him giving her his pity filled puppy dog eyes.

"Nancy Lantz," Birdie said. She wasn't expecting anyone to remember the name, but Bobby sat up straight, something flashing across his face and making Birdie tilt her head in confusion. "Did. . .did you know her?"

"No, but she was all over the news for months," Bobby said, something lingering in his eyes that made Birdie deeply frown. "Girl went missin' for a week and the same day she was found and brought home, she was murdered in her sleep——apparently the person who took her or somethin'. They broke in through the backdoor but didn't leave any prints or nothin'. They didn't find the person who took her and the girl didn't remember, but her mother said her daughter wouldn't stop talking about two people who supposedly saved her, but she thought they were the same ones who took her in the first place." Sam shifted in his chair, he and Dean briefly glancing towards Birdie. She didn't look at either of them, keeping her gaze on Bobby as he continued. "Said some man and his young daughter did it, but they didn't have any descriptions or leads to go off. They tried to find 'em for months. . .but they never found anything."

Birdie finally looked towards Dean, seeing his brows were slightly furrowed together as if in thought. "We didn't kill her," Birdie said, feeling slightly defensive.

"No one's sayin' that," Dean said. "I wasn't even thinking that."

"Well you had to've been thinking something."

"Do you know who did it?" Dean asked, hand moving as he spoke. "What took her?"

"It doesn't matter what took her," Birdie said, ignoring Sam's burning stare; he remembered the girl. "What took her isn't the same thing that killed her."

"Then what killed her?" Bobby asked.

"My mom," Birdie answered, gaze fixated on Rumsfeld; she already knew what their expressions would be when those words left her mouth. "And she made me go with her. I-I was in the room when-when she did it and I-I. . .I did nothing to stop her."

"Come on, Bird. You were a kid," Dean said. "You couldn't stop her."

"I could've tried harder," she said, twisting her lips as she looked towards Dean. "Maybe if I'd just——"

Bobby shook his head. "No, don't do that to yourself, kiddo. When your mom set her mind on somethin'. . .no one could stop her."

Birdie cracked a small smile, simply glancing down at Rumsfeld. "Hey, did you happen to notice a mark——sorta like a brand——on her hand or anything?" Sam wondered.

Birdie tilted her head, raising a brow towards Sam. "Uh, if it was there, I didn't notice. I was too busy gettin' my ass beat. Why?"

"I saw one on Henriksen and Dean saw the same one on Meg."

Sam noticed the way Birdie's face fell when he mentioned Henriksen. She still couldn't shake the guilt she felt over his and the others' death at the police station. Veronica had survived along with her son and was thankfully still doing okay in California, but that didn't erase the fact that more innocent people had died. "We don't know what it means, but hopefully Bobby can find something."

Birdie let out a sigh, hand resting on the top of Rumsfeld's head. "Just a normal day in our life, huh?"

Birdie scrunched up her nose, hissing as she dabbed at the wounds on her chest with a wet cloth while she stood in front of the mirror. The panic room kept them safe from the ghosts outside for now, but they could only stay in there for so long. They'd have to leave sooner or later.

While Sam and Dean filled some shotgun shells with rock salt for good measure, Birdie started to address her wounds. Sam had offered to help, but Birdie quickly shot him down and opted to do it herself.

Sam glanced over and frowned when he saw her pained expression, not able to tell that Birdie could see his eyes were on her once again; she'd lost track of how many times he'd looked over to check on her. Birdie sighed to herself and moved towards the bed, sinking down on the end so she was near Sam as he sat at the table. "Can you help me?" she softly asked, holding the wet cloth out to him. "Looking in the mirror to do it is just makin' it take even longer. . ."

"Uh," Sam stammered, partially turning in the chair to face her, "Are-are you sure?"

"Well, I could ask Dean——"

"No, that's okay. I'll do it." Sam quickly said, giving her a smile as he took the cloth from her hand. Dean rolled his eyes from the seat beside Sam, muttering something that sounded like just fucking ask her out already under his breath.

Birdie giggled, giving Sam a small smile as he looked at her almost like he was waiting for her to tell him it was okay. "Sam, it's okay," she said, chuckling to herself at his hesitance; at least he waited for her approval.

Sam returned the smile and reached forward, dabbing at one of the claw marks on her chest. He furrowed his brows, noticing that a few of the marks looked wider than the others. "Uh, Bird. . ." Sam quietly started, looking up to meet her gaze, "I-I think some of these need stitches."

Birdie's eyes noticeably widened as the words sunk in. "What? No, they don't."

"Yeah, they do. . ."

Birdie sharply turned her head towards Dean. "Dean, do you think I need stitches?"

Dean raised his brows, looking at the wounds before he faced Birdie. "Sorry, Bird. Sammy's right."

Birdie sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes. But then she hissed, feeling Sam press the cloth to one of the more narrow wounds. "Sorry, sorry," Sam quickly apologized. "But we need to do it while we can."

Birdie dramatically sighed, reluctantly nodding her head. She didn't think she needed them, but she never admitted it even if she did. "You better at least take me out to dinner afterwards then."

Sam light chuckled, nodding his head. "Alright."

"Gross, get a room," Dean groaned.

"Technically we are in a——" Birdie's lips smacked shut, watching Bobby drop down a first aid kit in front of Sam. She slowly lifted her head, seeing him raising his brows at hers. "Is this your way of tellin' me to shut up?"

"You're smart. I'm sure you already know the answer," he said, turning back towards the desk.

Birdie gaped, turning her head towards Sam with a look of disbelief. He just chuckled, opening up the first aid kit. Birdie frowned as he did so, seeing him pull out the shiny needle and some thread. "You look like you've never gotten stitches before," Dean snickered, leaning back in his chair.

Birdie scoffed, sharpening her eyes on Dean. "That shit hurts. Would you be happy to see Sam getting ready to——ow, you motherfucker!"

Dean loudly laughed, seeing Birdie's dark eyes snap towards Sam with her anger obvious on her face. Sam caught her eye, offering her a small smirk. "Did you want me to count to three?" Birdie narrowed her eyes, rolling her eyes as she mimicked him under her breath. "It shouldn't take long since——"

"Just get it over with, please," Birdie heavily sighed.

Sam nodded and pulled another stitch through, watching Birdie's nose scrunch and face contort in agony as he did so. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to do too much more, but it was hard to ignore the increasing pain as he poked her over and over again, every now and then muttering a sorry or reassuring her that he was almost done. She swore he'd been saying that for the past 10 minutes, using it as a way to try and make her feel better about being jabbed over and over again. But, she appreciated the thought despite that it was doing little to make her feel better.

"See, this is why I can't get behind God," Dean said after a few minutes, filling up the last of the bullets. Sam was finally finished with the stitches, and had cleaned up Birdie's wounds on her face along with bandaging her cheek. He was back beside Dean, working on the bullets as well so they hopefully had enough until they found a way to stop whatever was happening. Birdie was still on the bed with Rumsfeld peacefully napping beside her, a book about angels now placed in her lap. She paused when she'd heard Dean's voice break through the silence that had enveloped the room, looking over at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"If he doesn't exist, fine. Bad shit happens to good people. That's how it is," Dean said, stealing a glance over his shoulder towards Bobby was seated at the desk, continuing to write notes down with his books spread around him and a lamp turned on next to him. "There's no rhyme or reason——just random, horrible, evil shit——I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if he is out there, what the fuck's with him? Where the hell is he while all these decent people are gettin' torn to shreds? How does he live with himself? You know, why doesn't he fuckin' help?"

Sam turned his head towards Bobby, rubbing at the back his neck. Birdie followed his gaze, as did Dean. Bobby shifted in the chair, seeing all three of them looking at him as if he was supposed to respond. "I ain't touching this one with a 10-foot pole," he said, breathing out a forced laugh.

"Yeah," Dean grumbled, turning to face the table.

"Found it," Bobby then said, tapping the notepad with the pencil in his hand.

"What?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"The symbol you saw——the brand on the ghosts. . ." Bobby said, looking down at the page with different symbols on the page.

"Yeah?"

"Mark of the Witness."

"Witness?" Sam asked. "Witness to what?"

"The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths," Bobby said, facing the others. "See, these ghosts——they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them. . .on purpose."

"Who did it?" Birdie asked.

Bobby held his hands out. "Do I look like I know? But whoever it was, used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls," he said. Sam stood up, moving over towards Bobby. "Whoever did this had big plans. It's called the rising of the witnesses. It figures into an ancient prophecy."

"Wait, wait," Dean said, standing up to walk over to the table. Birdie knitted her brows together, heading over as well. Rumsfeld picked his head up, watching them move toward Bobby. "What-what book is that prophecy from?"

"Well, the widely distributed version's just for tourists, you know," Bobby said, glancing over Birdie and the boys as he stood behind him. "But long story short——Revelations." Sam, Dean, and Birdie shared a silent look with each other. "This is a sign, kiddos."

"A sign of what?"

Bobby sighed, leaning back in the chair. "The apocalypse."

"Apocalypse? As in apocalypse apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?"

Bobby nodded. "That's the one. The rise of the witnesses is a. . .a mile marker."

"Okay, so, what do we do now?" Sam asked, moving and placing his hands on his hips.

"Road trip," Dean said, moving back towards the desk he was at before. "Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." He clapped his hands together, looking over at Sam. "Bunny Ranch."

Birdie rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Or we could go see Alcatraz."

"Woah, woah," Dean said, giving her an incredulous look as he sat down at the table. "You've fought ghosts your whole life, and when the world might be comin' to an end, you wanna go to a place with some of the most vengeful ghosts?"

Birdie innocently shrugged. "Then I'd at least die knowing if it's actually haunted or not."

"First things first," Bobby said, rolling his eyes at Dean and Birdie, "How about we survive our friends out there?"

"Great," Dean said. "Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgment Day?"

"It's a spell," Bobby said, looking down at the paper again, "to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work. . ."

"Should," Sam repeated, breathing out a forced laugh. "Great."

". . .If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need here at the house."

"Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asked, a hopeful smile spreading across his lips.

"So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?" Bobby wondered, giving him a pointed stare. "Spell's gotta be cast over an open fire."

"The fireplace in the library," Sam said.

"Bingo."

"That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Dean chuckled.

They prepared to leave the panic room, making sure all of the guns were fully loaded and cocked. "Cover each other. And aim careful," Bobby said, standing off to the side of Birdie and the boys with his own gun in hand. "Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred ya. Ready?"

"As ready as I can be," Birdie murmured. She trailed behind Sam and Dean, stopping when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She turned around, shaking her head at Rumsfeld. "Not this time, buddy. You're gonna stay in here where it's safe." Rumsfeld huffed, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes. "I'm sorry, but no. Maybe next time, okay?"

Rumsfeld whimpered, watching Birdie walk out of the room last, shutting the door behind her to make sure that he didn't try to sneak out. Then they made their way through the dimly lit basement, Birdie's eyes scanning the room as they headed towards the stairs. A ghost sat on top of the stairs, looking down at his feet until he heard their footsteps. He was bigger and had black curly hair that traveled past his round ears, a small smile on his lips when he spotted Dean.

Dean aimed his gun, his face falling when he recognized the ghost. "Hey, Dean," the ghost greeted him. "You remember me?"

"Ronald, huh? With the, uh, laser eyes?" Dean asked, cheekily smiling as he gestured towards his eyes. "I wish I could say it's good to see you."

"I'm dead because of you," Ronald said, using the handrails to pick himself up. "You were supposed to help me!"

Bobby shot Ronald seconds later, the sound causing Birdie and the boys to flinch in surprise. "If you're gonna shoot, shoot," Bobby said, looking at Dean. "Don't talk."

Bobby headed up the stairs first, Birdie following next. They hurried up the stairs, guns held tight in their hands. They managed to make it to the living room without running into any more ghosts, but Birdie couldn't shake the feeling that there were eyes on them the whole time. Sam moved towards Bobby's desk and created a salt circle around the desk as Dean kneeled in front of the fireplace, striking a match to start a fire.

"Upstairs, linen closet——red hex box," Bobby said, looking towards Birdie as she stood beside the desk. "It'll be heavy."

Birdie quickly nodded. "Got it."

She headed towards the stairs, quickly making her way up them two at a time. Sam's eyes followed her for a few seconds, looking away when he heard a girl say Bobby's name. Birdie heard the sound of a gunshot echo from downstairs, pushing her to move faster. She rounded the corner and ran over to the linen closet, hastily pulling it open as she kept a firm grip on her gun. She moved some pillows and sheets out of the way, finding the box hidden under them. She started to pull it closer, but spun around when she heard a voice.

"You know what really pisses me off?" Birdie spotted a woman with blonde hair hatefully glaring at her. Birdie quickly fired, shakily exhaling as she disappeared. Birdie cocked the gun, whirling around when she heard the woman's voice behind her now. "They told you what was happening to me——I thought you all must have learned something. I thought I died for something."

Birdie furrowed her brows, tilting her head in confusion. She didn't recognize her, but she had a feeling she knew who she was from what Sam and Dean had told her about a blonde woman who was possessed by a demon that also possessed Sam and kidnapped their father. "Meg?"

"What you're letting Sam do. . .and the things you're doing. . . .how many innocent bodies has Ruby burned through for kicks? How many girls just like me? And neither of you send her back to Hell?" Birdie frowned, finger hovering over the trigger. "You're fucking monsters!"

Birdie twisted her lips, lifting the rifle and shooting her in the face. She didn't waste anymore time and picked up the box, hurrying back down the stairs. Sam and Dean exited the kitchen at the same moment, carrying some ingredients.

The ghost from the basement stairs, Ronald, appeared again as Dean was reloading his gun. Dean paused for a moment, sighing as he continued to reload his gun. Bobby got to work putting the ingredients together after Birdie set the box on the desk. Birdie let out a shaky breath, keeping her gun raised while eyes flickering towards Ronald. "Ronald. Hey, come on, man," Dean said. "I thought we were pals."

"That's when I was breathing," Ronald said with a wicked smile. "Now I'm gonna eat you alive."

Dean laughed. "Well. . .come on, I'm not a cheeseburger." He cocked the gun and lifted it to shoot Ronald, but he vanished.

Bobby began to recite some Latin words once he had all of the ingredients poured into a ceramic bowl, speaking as fast as he could. The windows blew open seconds later, a strong gust of wind filling the entire room as the panels outside harshly smacked against the wall. Rumsfeld barked from downstairs, hearing all of the commotion. The pages in the book by Bobby flipped over, momentarily losing the spell. The wind brushed through the room, breaking the salt line so they were no longer protected. The wind calmed down after a few seconds, causing them all to look around in confusion.

Meg appeared in front of Sam and he quickly shot at her while Bobby continued to recite the spell; he needed to work even faster now. Henriksen appeared seconds later, but Birdie quickly shot him when he tried to grab hold of her. Meg appeared off to the side of Sam, the youngest Winchester not spotting her this time.

"Down!" Dean shouted.

Sam quickly ducked down, allowing Dean to shoot Meg. Then he started to reload his gun, sharing a wary look with Dean and Birdie. At the rate the ghosts were reappearing, they were going to run out of bullets before Bobby could finish. Ronald walked into the room from the kitchen, but Dean quickly shot him before he could get any closer.

Nancy appeared behind Birdie, pushing her to the ground. Birdie grunted as she fell forward, gun slipping from her grasp. She rolled onto her back and looked up, seeing it was Nancy. She clenched her jaw, lips parting when Sam shot Nancy. She gave him an appreciative nod and grabbed her gun, taking his outstretched hand into her own so he could pull her back onto her feet.

Henriksen reappeared once again, knocking Dean's gun out of his hands before he could finish reloading it this time. Dean reached around on the desk and picked up another gun. He went to shoot Henriksen, but it was empty. He picked up an iron rod from beside the desk and swung it through Henriksen, eyes wide.

Meg appeared once again and pushed Sam against the wall, trapping him there with a desk. Sam tried to push the desk away, but it wouldn't budge.

"Sam!" Birdie shouted, eyes wide with panic.

"Cover Bobby!"

Birdie faced forward as Bobby continued to recite the spell, Sam still attempting to get out from behind the desk. Two little girls were suddenly sitting on the desk that was keeping Sam pinned against a bookcase, their dark and beady eyes pinned to the older man. Birdie went to shoot them, but she was suddenly shoved back by a harsh force. Meg plunged a hand into Bobby's back, causing him to drop the bowl with ingredients.

Birdie narrowed her eyes as Nancy flickered in front of her, a hateful look in her eyes. "Why didn't you stop her, Birdie?" Nancy snarled, moving closer to Birdie as she found herself unable to move. "You watched her kill me! Were you that afraid she'd hurt you again? It should have been you, not me!"

"Dean!" Bobby shouted. Dean's eyes widened, lunging forward to catch the bowl. It continued to tumble towards the ground, Dean just barely catching it with one hand. "Fireplace!"

Birdie quietly gasped, wincing as Nancy bent down towards her. She grabbed her shoulders and lifted her up, slamming her back down on the floor. "It should've been you!"

Dean tossed the bowl into the fireplace, the flames turning a bright shade of blue as the fire ate up the ingredients. The light got brighter and filled the entire room, causing them all to shut their eyes.

As the light slowly disappeared, so did the ghosts. Bobby fell to the ground with a pained grunt, Meg's hand no longer sticking inside his back. "Bobby?" Dean breathed out, turning his head to see Bobby beginning to pick himself up off the floor.

Sam pushed the desk away with a grunt, finally freeing himself. He and Dean helped Bobby back up as Birdie got back onto her feet, adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Bobby nodded his head, indicating that he was okay.

Birdie panted, glancing over at the others. Sam's eyes briefly met hers, silently speaking to her. She gave him a faint smile and tiredly nodded her head. Birdie partially turned to the side, picking up the gun that had slipped from her grasp. She stepped over and sat it on the desk, looking towards Bobby and the Winchesters. "I don't know about you guys, but I could use a drink right about now."

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

FIRSTLY I'D LIKE TO THANK AMARA SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME SO MUCH WITH THIS CHAPTER + EVEN WRITING SOME OF IT FOR ME 🥺. I honestly wouldn't have made it this far in this book if it wasn't for her so thank you so much, Amara!!! ❤️

I'm not sure if some of you remember Nancy, but she was the girl in chapter 11 dream a little dream of me! She didn't speak then, but she was included so I thought I could include her here! I know her death probably doesn't classify as an unnatural death, but oh well LMAOOO.

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