The night was colder than it should've been. Portland's autumn chill usually came with rain and the soft hum of streetlight against wet pavement. But tonight, the air felt wrong ─ still, heavy, electric. Like something was waiting.

Dean Winchester knew that feeling all too well.

He'd been sitting on the hood of the Impala outside Ana's apartment, with a beer in his hand, staring at nothing. Ana was finally asleep, and Kota was out cold in the bassinet. It should've been peaceful. Should've been.

But his gut couldn't settle.

Every hunter instinct screamed that something was off. He couldn't shake the faint pressure crawling under his skin ─ the same one he used to feel before a hunt went sideways. He'd tried to chalk it up to nerves, or maybe the leftover Hell-stink in his soul, but this was different. It wasn't in him.

It was watching him.

A faint crackle of static pricked at the edge of his hearing, like an untuned radio. He turned his head, scanning the tree line across the street. The shadows seemed to ripple, shifting too slowly to be the wind. "Come on out." He mutters, standing up, as he held his gun in his hand. "I ain't in the mood for this shit."

A shape moved.

Small.

Deliberate.

And then she stepped out.

A girl ─ no, not quite a girl. She looked young, early twenties maybe dressed in torn black jeans and a leather jacket that fit snugly on her frame. Her hair was dark, threaded with faint iridescent red that caught the light like embers. But it was her eyes that made his stomach twist.

They were the same color as the Pit. Not black ─ deeper. Like looking into something ancient and infinite. "Dean Winchester." She says as her voice was smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. "You're a hard man to find."

Dean's gun cocked at the mystery woman in front of him.  "Yeah, well, I like it that way. Who the hell are you?"

The corner of her mouth curved into a smirk that didn't reach her eyes. "Lorelei Nyx."

"Can't say that rings a bell." Dean says to her.

"It wouldn't." She says as she takes another step forward. "My father prefers to keep some secrets."

Dean froze at what she said. "Your...father?"

Her smirk only sharpened. "You've met him before. Well ─ sort of." 

Something cold slid down Dean's spine, at what she said. "Lucifer."

"Give the man a gold star." She says as she tilts her head, as she studies him with unsettling curiosity. "You're exactly what he said you'd be."

Dean's jaw flexed at what she said. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

She smiled ─ not cruelly, not warmly, just... knowingly. "A contradiction wrapped in guilt. You hate what you did, but you'd do it again, if it meant saving someone you loved. Hell's favorite kind of irony."

Dean's trigger finger trembled at what she said. "You here to start something, sweetheart? 'Cause I've had a real bad few months?"

Lorelei's gaze softened slightly more sympathetic. "I'm not here to hurt you, Dean. I'm just supposed to watch."

"Watch, what?" Dean asked her.

"You." She says as she said it like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Dean barked out a dry laugh. "Well, you can tell Daddy Dearest to find another hobby. I'm not putting on a show."

"Oh, he's not watching for entertainment." Lorelei says as her tone darkened. "He's... curious, about what happens when a soul gets torn apart and stitched back together. About what it does to a man."

Dean's stomach turned at what she said. "Tell him to ask me himself."

Lorelei looked almost sad. "He can't, not yet."

Before Dean could reply, a flicker of light sparked behind her ─ a faint red glow twisting through the air like smoke. And then, in the space between one heartbeat and the next, Lucifer himself appeared. 

The light dimmed around him as if the world bowed just slightly. Sharp ─ but casual clothes, boyish grin ─ eyes like a knife wrapped in charm. "Now, now, no need for introductions." Lucifer says cheerfully, spreading his arms. "Dean Winchester. The man, the myth, the emotional wreck."

Dean's hand tightened around the gun. "What the hell do you want?"

 Lucifer gave an exaggerated sigh. "Always so hostile. You just got back from the worst spa in history; you should be relaxing." 

Dean glared at the Devil. "Try me."

Lucifer ignored the threat, glancing towards Lorelei. "Sweetheart, give us a minute, would you? Daddy needs to talk to the man who broke the universe's favorite curse."

Lorelei hesitated at what her father said. "You said─"

"I know what I said." He says as his tone sharpened just enough to make her flinch. Then it melted back to honey. "Go on, pumpkin."

She shot Dean a look ─ something almost like an apology ─ then vanished in a swirl of smoke and static. Lucifer turned back to Dean, his grin fading. "You're walking around with cracks, Dean. Deep ones. You think you crawled out clean, but Hell doesn't let go that easy."

Dean's voice was low. "I'm not your damn project."

"Oh, but you are." Lucifer's expression softened in mock pity. "You think you left Hell behind. But it left fingertips on your soul. And when the time comes, when you break again..." He says thinly. "I'll be there to catch what's left."

"Not gonna happen." Dean says to Lucifer.

Lucifer chuckled. "You humans always say that before it does."

Then, with a blink, he was gone. No sound, no flash ─ just gone. The only sign he'd been there was the faint sulfur smell in the air, and the way Dean's heart wouldn't slow down. 

For a long moment, he just stood there, staring into the dark. Then he ran a shaky hand over his face and muttered. "Son of a bitch."

Behind him, the apartment window glowed with soft light ─ Ana's silhouette moving in the bedroom, probably checking on Kota. Normal. Fragile. Human.

Dean exhaled and holstered the gun. Whatever Lucifer's game was, he wasn't dragging Ana in it.

But he couldn't shake Lorelei's words that she had said. "I'm just supposed to watch."

He didn't know it yet, but Lorelei Nyx wasn't going anywhere. And neither was the darkness she'd just brought back into his world.

───※ ·❆· ※───

"Now how many razor blades did they find?" Sam asked, as Mrs. Wallace sighs, and responds nearly in tears. 

"Two on the floor, one in his stomach and one was stuck in his throat. He swallowed four of them, how is that even possible?" Mrs. Wallace says as she notices Dean looking around the front of the stove and in the oven door. "The candy was never in the oven."

"We just have to be thorough Mrs. Wallace." Dean says.

"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy?" Sam asked.

"No, I mean, I don't think so. I just ─ I just can't believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?" She asked as it was more of a question, than anything. 

Dean emerges from the floor, and shows Sam a hex bag, behind Mrs. Wallace's back so she can't see, and makes sure to keep her from seeing it. As Sam, sighs and looks at Mrs. Wallace. 

"Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies?" Sam asked.

"Enemies?" Mrs. Wallace asked the youngest Winchester.

"Anyone who might have held a grudge against him?" Sam says to the woman.

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Wallace asked Sam.

"Co-workers? Neighbors? Maybe a woman." Sam says as Mrs. Wallace gets what Sam means and gets offended.

"Are you suggesting an affair?" Mrs. Wallace asked the man.

"Is it possible?" Sam asked.

"No! No, Luke would nev─" Mrs. Wallace says.

"I'm very sorry, we have to consider all the possibilities." Sam says to the woman.

"If someone wanted to kill my husband, don't you think they'd find a better way than a razor in a piece of candy that he might?" She says as Sam looks over at Dean who raises his head at Sam.

───※ ·❆· ※───

The motel was too quiet.

Ana had never realized how much Dean made until he wasn't there ─ the soft clank of his boots hitting the floor, the low hum when he cleaned his guns, the occasional classic rock static from the Impala's radio leaking through the window. 

Now there was nothing. Just the ticking of the cheap wall clock and the low hiss of the air conditioner that never quite worked right. Dakota was being watched by Ash. Dean had insisted ─ said that she needed a break from the baby, a few nights of uninterrupted sleep, from Dakota waking up in the night because she was hungry.

The irony was cruel.

Sleep didn't come easily when you were alone.

When it finally did happen, it came heavy.

The dream started like a memory. The smell of rain, the sound of tires on gravel, a flash of green eyes. Dean's laugh. The warmth of his hand on hers. For a second, she almost smiled.

Then the light dimmed.

The world around her folded in on itself ─ asphalt cracking, air thickening. The rain turned to ash. She was in the dark again.

And she could hear it ─ the snarling echo she hadn't heard since that night. The Hellhounds. The sound tore through her like glass dragged over bone. She tried to move, but her body was lead, her throat was dry.

"Dean!" She screamed.

Or maybe she thought she did. Her voice didn't make it past the air.

Then she saw him.

Dean ─ but not as she remembered. His eyes were empty, his face pale, his shirt soaked through with blood that wasn't his. He stood there, silent, the same way he had when the hounds took him.

"Don't." She whispered, shaking her head, as she stumbled backwards. "Don't ─ please─"

But he didn't move. He just looked at her with that hollow stare, his mouth opening ─ no sound coming out ─ before he started to fall.

She caught him in her arms. His weight was cold, dead cold, and when she looked down, her hands were covered in blood. His, hers ─ she couldn't tell.

Then his voice came, a whisper, against her ear. "You should've saved me."

Ana shot up with a scream, gasping for air. Her chest heaved as she clawed at her sheets, drenched in sweat. The motel room was pitch black except for the thin line of neon bleeding through the blinds. Her heart thundered so heart that it hurt.

For a moment, she didn't know where she was. The walls pressed in too close, the air thick, the shadows wrong.

"Dean?" She whispered.

Silence.

Her voice broke the air like glass. "Dean!"

Nothing. Just the buzz of a dying light bulb and the rush of her own breathing.

She buried her face in her hands, trying to ground herself. The salt line Dean had poured across the windowsill flashed in her mind ─ the same safety measures that she has back at the apartment, solely for Dakota's safety. It was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

She slid off the bed, with her knees hitting the carpet hard, pressing her palm flat against the rough floor just to feel something real. Her whole body trembled as she tried to slow her breathing.

"It wasn't real." She whispered to herself. "It wasn't real."

But it had felt real. The smell, the cold, the weight of him in her arms. She could still feel the phantom touch of his blood drying on her skin.

Her hands shook as she reached for the nightstand, fumbling for the lighter and the candle that Dean had left there. The small flame flickered to life, casting a soft light over the room. It danced across the photo sitting beside it ─ her, Dean and Dakota.

The sight of it broke something open inside her.

"I'm trying." She whispered to the photo, as her voice was shaking. "I swear, I'm trying." She says as her throat burned as tears welled and fell, one after another, splattering onto her hands.

She didn't bother wiping them away. She just sat there on the floor, the candlelight flickering against her face, trying to outlast the echoes of Hell that weren't even hers to remember.

And in the quiet, the finally admitted the thing she could never say when Dean was there ─

That she was terrified that he'd go back, and this time, she wouldn't wake up.

The candle was burning low when the phone rang.

Ana flinched, her heart was jumping, the sound slicing through the silence. She stared at the screen, through blurry eyes. 

Dean.

For a second, she thought about ignoring it ─ wiping her face, pretending that she was fine, waiting until her voice didn't sound like it was about to break. But she couldn't. She needed to hear him, even if she couldn't find the words.

She presses the phone to her ear with a shaky hand. "Hey." She manages to say, as that alone made her lips quiver as her voice was raw, like glass scraping down her throat.

"Hey, sweetheart." He says, his voice was casual but warm, the kind of voice that normally made the world feel safer. "Just checkin', in. Me and Sammy're leaving talking to the wife, figured, I'd─"

He stopped mid-sentence. The silence stretched longer than it typically would.

"Ana?" 

Her breath hitched, but she didn't respond. She tried ─ God, she tried ─ but her voice failed her. All that came out was a broken sound, half-sob, half-breath."

Dean's entire body went cold. He sat upright in the driver's seat, the Impala still rumbling beneath him. Sam looked over from the passenger seat, frowning at his brother. "Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean didn't answer his brother, when he said that. His grip on the steering wheel, tightened, knuckles were white. He could hear it ─ the tremor in her breathing, the quiet tears she wasn't trying to hide anymore. She didn't have to say a word. He knew. He knows his babygirl.

"Hang on, sweetheart." He says quietly, voice dropping low and firm. "I'm comin'."

"Dean, what─" Sam starts but before he could finish, Dean spun the wheel, tires screaming against the asphalt as he pulled a U-turn in oncoming traffic on the road. "Dean!" Sam says to his brother.

"She needs me." Dean says simply, with his eyes locked on the road, with his jaw set. "I don't care ─ I'm not leavin' her like that."

Sam looked at his brother, and for once, he didn't argue. He just nodded his head. Because he'd seen that look before ─ the one Dean only wore when it came to Ana, and her wellbeing.

Back at the motel, Ana sat on the edge of the bed, with her phone still in her hand, as the candle was burning low beside her. She didn't even realize she'd fallen asleep, sitting up ─ exhaustion and fear blending together until she drifted in and out, as her heart was still pounding from the nightmare.

Then the roar of an engine cut through her sleep.

She lifted her head the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling up outside, as tires crunching against the concrete. Moments later the door burst open, as Dean stood there ─ wide-eyed, breathless, hair wind tossed. He didn't say anything, as he didn't need to. 

Ana barely had time to stand before he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. She sank into him instantly, shaking, her face was buried against his chest. 

"I'm here, sweetheart." He whispers, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other holding her like she might slip away. "You're okay, now. I've got you."

Her fingers clenched the back of his jacket like he was her anchor in the storm. Because he was her anchor in the storm.

Their foreheads were pressed together, as they both looked into each other's eyes and for the first time all night, her breathing started to steady. 

Dean just held her ─ no words, no explanations, no questions of what's wrong, why she was crying. Just quiet, and the steady rhythm of his heart against her ear.

And for the first time since the nightmare, Ana finally started to believe that she was safe. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

A little bit later, Sam is sitting on the couch with his laptop and a few books on the coffee table in front of him, flipping the pages of the books. He picks up something from the hex bag that looks organic and holds it up, having stopped flipping the pages of the book. Dean enters the room with Ana who has a fast-food bag in her hand along with a drink, as Dean tosses the keys on the table under the window, and opens a piece of candy tossing it in his mouth, as Sam sees him do this.

"Really? After that guy choked down all those razor blades?" Sam asked as Ana shrugged her shoulders as she took a bite out of her french fry, that was in the bag of fast food.

"No one said he was smart." Ana says as Dean gave her a look, as she sat down on the bed, as she ate her chicken nuggets like a little child. 

"Annie, behave, or those chicken nuggets are mine." Dean says to her which made a faux pout appear on her face, as she looked down with a faux sad look on her face, as she looked like a child being caught in the cookie jar. "It's Halloween, man."

"Yeah, for us every day is Halloween." Sam says as Dean sits down on the arm of the couch and looks at Sam's research.

"Don't be a downer, anything interesting?" Deak asks.

"Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure, but this isn't your typical hex bag." Sam says as he indicates the hex bag that was laid out cloth now on the table. There is a silver piece, the size of a coin, and something small and charred in addition to the organic thing, which looks like a dried-up flower.

"Hmm, no?" Dean says as Sam picks up the small, charred thing and smells it. 

"Ugh." Dean says as he puts the bone down, and looks disgusted as Ana looks behind Dean's shoulder, as she rests her chin on her door. "Gross." Dean says as Sam picks up the bone. 

"Relax man, it's like, at least a hundred years old." Sam says, as Ana kissed Dean's cheek, which made him softly smile.

"Oh, right, like that makes it better. Witches man, they're so friggin' skeevy." Dean says to his brother, as Ana nodded her head at what he said.

"Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. More juice than we've ever dealt with, that's for sure. What about you? Find anything on the victim?" Sam says.

"This Luke Wallace? He was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy." Dean says Sam scoffs at their lack of leads.

"I can't find any reason why someone would want this guy dead." Dean says as Ana nodded her head at what he said, as her chin was still on his shoulder.

 ───※ ·❆· ※───

Dean ended up convincing Ana to come with, a little bribery in order to do it, but after she got bribed to come, she stayed in the Impala as she had her headphones in as she was listening to her iPod that she has. She still has her MP3 player, but it doesn't have any songs in it, as she had transferred her songs from her MP3 player to her iPod. She did that after Christmas.

The brothers are coming down the stairs to the scene of the crime, where Jenny was killed. There is a guy with a 'Forensics' jacket on taking pictures of the bobbing for apples tub, and a police officer is talking to Tracy. "Have you been drinking?" The police officer asked as Tracy nodded her head.

"Yes." Tracy says as Sam goes over to join the questioning, as Dean walks, over to the couch and starts lifting the cushions, looking for a hex bag, as he smirks behind Sam's back.

"It's just so weird, the water in the tub isn't hot, I had just been in there myself." Tracy says.

"Your friend, didn't happen to know a man named Luke Wallace?" Sam asked the blonde woman, as she turns to Sam, as he holds up a badge. "FBI."

"Um, who's Luke Wallace?" She asked.

"He died yesterday." Sam says to her.

"I don't know who that is." Tracy says as Dean holds up the hex bag to Sam that he had found as Sam nodded his head and looks down at Tracy. 

Meanwhile, in the Impala, Ana sat in the passenger seat, as Sam sat in the backseat, as she was alone for once. Dean and Sam are talking to witnesses, as Dean didn't go into detail, which is fine, because she wouldn't have asked anyway, which meant that she had at least a little bit to herself, before they came back. 

She was just about to change the song, as she turned up the song on her iPod, as the opening guitar riff of 'Enter Sandman' hit; heavy and sharp, as a sigh left her lips. Her fingers immediately started to drum against her ripped jeans, her head started bobbing a little to the beat. Then the rest of her body followed suit, as her shoulders rolled, her hair being taken out of its messy bun, as she mouthed along to the lyrics. 

"Exit light... enter night... take my hand... we're off to never-never land..."

Moments, later she started full-on performing, as she is hitting the dashboard, hitting every invisible note with mock-serious precision. Her lips are now a full-on smirk as she leaned back, belting the next line in a gravely imitation of James Hetfield.

"Hush little baby, don't say word─"

She pointed to the rearview mirror dramatically, mouthing the words like she was playing to an invisible audience. Her laughter echoed around the car, which blending with the music in her ears.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Ana didn't feel heavy, she wasn't Dean's grieving fiance (even if he's not dead anymore), she doesn't have depression and is mentally unstable, or the mother who was on her own ─ she was just Ana. 

Reckless.

Loud.

Alive.

She rolled her shoulders, flipping her hair like she was on stage, air-drumming the solo, even mimicking the Metallica headband until she nearly hit the roof of the car. 

Right as she was about to hit the last verse of the song ─ as she was really into it now ─ she looked up and froze.

Through the windshield windows was Dean and Sam as they were walking out of the house, as they were talking as she turned down her music as she scrambled to fix her hair, pretending to put her mascara on (even if she already had mascara on), as she used the visor to put her mascara on.

When the brothers got into the car, she was mouthing the last verse of the song that they had just had to interrupt, as it was almost done in the first place. "Anything interesting?"

"Uh, we found another hex bag, this time, if that counts as anything." Sam says to Ana as she nodded her head at what he said, as Dean took a bite out of her donut that he had gotten her. He did the 'fiance' tax, which still feels weird, but she wouldn't have it either way.

"Why must it be witches?" Ana says as the brothers couldn't help but agree with what she said as she wasn't wrong at all. None of them like witches, so it makes sense.

"Exactly, they're freaky and old." Dean says as Ana nodded her head at what he said as she was done putting on mascara, as Dean drives away, heading back to the motel room.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Dean is on the computer at the table, as Sam is lying on the bed looking through books, as Sam sits up looking intently at a book he's reading. "I'm telling you, both these vic's are squeaky clean. There is no reason for a wicked bitch payback." Dean says.

"Maybe cause it's not about that." Sam says, as Dean looks at him questioningly, but sarcastically.

"Wow, insightful." Dean says as Ana softly kissed his cheek, as he wrapped his arms around her as she's sitting on his lap, which neither of them minded at all. 

"Maybe this witch isn't working the grudge, maybe they're working a spell. Check this out." Sam says as he reads from the book that he was reading. "Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day, of the final harvest. Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st." He says as he hands Ana the book.

"Halloween." Ana says as Sam nodded his head.

"Exactly." He says.

"What exactly are the blood sacrifices for?" Dean asked.

"This witch is summoning a demon, but not just any demon, Samhain. Anyway, Samhain is the origin of Halloween. The Celts believe that October 31st was the one night of the year when the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain's night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, candy left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago." Ana explains as Dean nodded his head at what he said, along with Sam.

"So, even though Samhain took a trip downstairs the tradition stuck." Dean says.

"Exactly, only now instead of demons and blood orgy's Halloween is all about kids, candy and costumes." Sam says.

"Okay, so some witch wants to raise Samhain and take back the night?" Dean says as Ana gave him a look.

"Dean, this is serious." Ana says to him, as she grabbed her Dr. Pepper bottle that was in front of her on the table. 

"I am serious." Dean says to her.

"This is the most heavyweight witchcraft. This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years." Sam says, as Ana nodded her head at him.

"And the six hundred ear marker rolls around...?" Dean says as Ana nodded her head.

"Tomorrow night." Ana says as she opened her Dr. Pepper bottle.

"Naturally." Dean says, as he looks down at the book, as he flipped to a page showing a demon on a heap of bodies holding a head in his hand. "Well, it sure is a lot of death and destruction for one demon." Dean says.

"That's because he likes company. Once he's raised, Samhain can do some raising of his own." Sam says, as Dean looks at his brother.

"Raising what, exactly?" Dean asked.

"Dark, evil crap, and lots of it, they will follow him around like the fuckin' Pied Piper." Ana says.

"So, we're talking ghosts." Dean says.

"And zombies, and everything that is out there, and this fucker keeps on going, by nights end everything that there is, will all be in one place." Ana says to Dean, as he nodded his head at what she said.

"Its gonna be a slaughterhouse." Dean says to her, as she nodded her head at what she said.

A little bit later, Dean is sitting in the Impala outside of the house watching and eating candy, as Ana is laying her head on Dean's lap. Just then his phone rings, and he pulls it out, flipping it open and looking at the caller ID before he answers. "Hey."

"How is it going?" Sam asked his brother as with Dean's free hand he gently brushes his hand through Ana's hair. 

"Awesome, yeah. I talked with Mrs. Razor Blade again. Me and Annie have been sitting out in front of her house, for hours, and we (mainly me) have

the biggest steaming pile of shit of nothing." Dean says to his brother.

"Look, Dean, someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses, there's gotta be some connection." Sam says to his brother. 

"Yeah well, I hope we find 'em soon cause I'm starting to cramp like a─" Dean says as he stops suddenly, as he sees something which made Ana lift her head up, as her head was only shown as she looked out of the impala to see what Dean was looking at.

That's when her eyebrows furrowed at what she saw, as she didn't move her eyes from seeing Tracy walking up the Wallace's house. "Hey, isn't that the uh, woman you were talking about?" Ana asked, as Dean nodded his head at what she said.

"Yup." Dean says to her.

"Wait, what happened?" Sam asked the couple, as there is a little bit of concern laced in his voice.

"Uh, looks like Little Miss Tracy lied about knowing Mr. Razor Blade." Dean says, as that's when him and Ana drove back to the motel.

───※ ·❆· ※───

When the couple gets back into the motel room, Dean throws the motel room key along with the keychain on the table, as Sam is lying on the bd, with his laptop open, as he takes off Ana's jacket, solely because he wanted to, and two, a follow-up of the only reason. "So, it's our apple bobbing cheerleader?" Sam asked.

"The Wallace's babysitter, told me she never even heard of Luke Wallace." Dean says to his brother.

"Huh, interesting, look for a centuries old witch." Sam says.

"Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred-year hag and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn't you go for a hot cheerleader?" Dean says to his brother.

"Tracy's not as wholesome as she looks. I did some digging and apparently, she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers and got suspended from school." Sam says as he hands Dean the laptop, and there are notes of said Tracy.

NOTE: Student was suspended for a violent act on a teacher.
STUDENT NAME: Tracy Davis
ADDRESS: 27 Lirewenshire Lane
PARENT NAME: Jerome Walker Davis
PARENT NAME: Mary Jane Kanoli Davis
STUDENT EMAIL: [email protected]
PARENT EMAIL: [email protected]
GRADE: 11
HOME ROOM: Mr. Goldwyn
COUNCELLOR: Mrs. Parks
EMERGENCY CONTACT: Mary Davis 555-0892

───※ ·❆· ※───

The three of them get to the front entrance of the high school, as Dean walks into a room full of masks, as Ana is right beside him, and he looks up. He sees a particular demonic looking one and focuses on it. "Bring back memories?" Sam asked Dean which kind of made Ana jump a little, as did Dean.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked his brother.

"Being a teenager, and all that angst." Sam says, as Dean sighs and a little relieved that Sam didn't see what was going on with Dean staring at the mask. 

"Oh." Dean says to his brother as Sam gives him a look.

"What'd you think I meant?" Sam asked him.

"Nothing." Dean says to his brother, as just then a teacher comes around a corner.

"You guys wanna talk to me?" A man says.

"Ah, Mr. Harding." Sam says.

"Oh, please, Don." Don says as he reaches for Sam's hand, then Dean's and then Ana. "Even my students call me, Don." Don says.

"Yeah, we get it, Don." Dean says as the three of them pull out their badges. "I'm Agent Getty, this is Agent Lee, and this is Agent Joan, we just had a few questions, about uh, Tracy Davis."

"Uh, yeah, Tracy, uh bright kid, loads of talent, it's a shame she got suspended." Don says as Ana slightly arched her eyebrow at what he said.

"Uh, you two had a... uh, violent altercation." Dean says.

"Yeah, she exploded, if Principal Murrow hadn't walked by when he did, Tracy would have clawed my eyes out." Don says.

"Why?" Ana asked, as Dean had an around Ana's back as he softly rubbed her lower back.

"I, uh, you know, I was only trying to rap with her about her work, it had gotten inappropriate and disturbing." Don says as Dean turns and indicates the angry masks hanging on the wall and the ceiling.

"More disturbing, than, uh, those guys?" Dean says.

"She would cover page after page with these bizarre cryptic symbols, and then there were the drawings." Don says to the three of them.

"Detailed images of killings, gory, primitive, and she would depict herself in the middle of them, participating." Don says.

"Symbols, what kind of symbols? Uh, anything like this?" Sam says as he shows Don a small bag with the silver Celtic coin in it.

"Yeah, yeah, I think that might have been one of them." Don says.

"You know where Tracy is now?" Ana asked.

"I would imagine her apartment." Don says to the redhead.

"Her apartment?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, she got here about a year ago, alone, as I understood it, as an emancipated teen. God, only knows what her parents were like." Don says.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Dean drives up and parks the car, and gets out of the car, along with Ana getting out of the passenger seat as Sam walks up to the passenger side of the Impala from another direction. "So?" Dean asked his brother.

"Tracy was nowhere I could find. Any luck with her friends?" Sam asked the couple as they both shake their head no at what he said. 

"Nah, luck is not our style, her friends don't know where she is, it's like the bitch popped a broomstick." Dean says as the brothers along with Ana who was beside Dean, make their way towards their motel room, and a kid dressed as an astronaut starts to walk towards them. 

"She could be making the third sacrifice any time." Sam says to his brother and Ana.

"Yes, thank you, Sam." Dean says sarcastically to Sam, as Ana had a small smile on her face.

The kid in the costume walks up to them and holds up a bucket of candy in his hands. "Trick or treat." The kid says.

"This is a motel." Dean says to the kid as he gives Dean a look.

"So?" The kid asked not seeing the whole point of what Dean said.

"So, we don't have candy." Dean says to the kid in the costume, as that's when Sam looks at his brother.

"No, we have a ton in the, uh..." Sam says to the kid, as he looks back and points to the Impala.

"We did, but it's gone." Dean says as Sam looks back at Dean getting his meaning of what he said. As the kid looks unimpressed and Dean looks down at him. "Sorry, kid, we can't help you."

"I want candy." The kid says to Dean.

"Well, I think you've had enough." Dean says as the kid in the costume, glares at Dean, narrowing his eyes, as the kid walks past Dean and shoves into him, as Dean puts his hands up, as Ana tries not to smile. Dean gives her a look. "Behave."

 ───※ ·❆· ※───

hannah speaks!

hope you like this chapter!

see you in the next chapter!

<3