❛ ━━━━━━･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

     HUNTS BEGAN TO blur together. A Rugaru, a shapeshifter, a ghost making people quite literally die from fear. It was good to help those people but Eleanor felt like they weren't making any progress with stopping the impending apocalypse.

It was now the day before Halloween, Eleanor's once favorite holiday. October 31st didn't hold the same appeal as it once did. After everything she had seen, a holiday where people dressed as demons with red horns and a pitchfork or vampires with only two sharp teeth and a cape made her feel a little sick.

She sort of liked the original Halloween, where people dressed as scarily as they could to keep them safe from evil spirits. But as Eleanor knew far too well, you can't protect yourself from everything.

The Winchesters stood in the kitchen of the Wallace family house. They were once again dressed as FBI agents. Sam and Dean passed just fine, but Eleanor received a weird look from Mrs. Wallace as she introduced herself. Dean told her Eleanor had just finished training and the woman seemed to buy it.

"Now how many razor blades did they find?" Eleanor asked the widow. She had a notebook at the ready, which her brothers had teased her for, but it made her feel more authentic. And she knew from past experience that her memory was terrible, so it was better to jot down important information.

        Mrs. Wallace sighs, she had gone over this already with the police. "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?" Her voice was soft and she was nearly in tears.

She notices Dean looking around the front of the stove and in the oven door. "The candy was never in the oven."

Dean gives her a professional smile. "We just have to be thorough, Mrs. Wallace," he lies.

"Did the police find any razors in the rest of the candy?"" Sam asks, returning the woman's attention to the siblings interviewing her.

"No," her eyebrows furrow, "I mean, I don't think so." A single tear slips down her cheek and she wipes it away. "I just – I can't believe it. You hear urban legends about this stuff, but it actually happens?"

"More than you might imagine," Sam says solemnly.

Dean rises from the floor and holds up a hex bag behind Mrs. Wallace's back so she can't see, making sure to keep it out of her line of sight. Sam sighs and looks at the widow.

"Mrs. Wallace, did Luke have any enemies?" he asks.

She frowns, confused. "Enemies?"

"Anyone who might have held a grudge against him?" Sam presses.

"What do you mean?"

"Co-workers? Neighbors?"

"Maybe a woman." Eleanor cuts in bluntly. Sam shoots her a look, but she brushes it off.

Mrs. Wallace seemed to understand what Eleanor means and gets offended. "Are you suggesting an affair?"

      "Yes," Eleanor says flatly. "Is it possible?"

"No! No, Luke would nev-"

       Sam cuts her off. "I'm very sorry. We just have to consider all possibilities." He gives Eleanor a dirty look.

"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 he might eat?"

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

      ELEANOR AND SAM had started their research back at the motel room. Eleanor sat on one of the queen sized beds while Sam sat on the couch. Dean walks into the room and tosses his keys on the table under the window, causing his siblings to look up at him. He unwraps a piece of candy before tossing it in his mouth. Eleanor pulls a face.

"Really? After that guy choked down all those razor blades?" Sam asks.

"Dude, it's Halloween," Dean says simply.

Eleanor scoffs. "Yeah, every day is Halloween for us."

Dean sits down on the arm of the couch and glances down at the book Sam was reading. "Don't be downers. Anything interesting?"

"Well, we're on a witch hunt, that's for sure, but this isn't your typical hex bag," Sam says. Dean looks at him, urging him to go on.

Sam gestures to the now open hex bag on the table. It had contained a silver piece, the size of a coin, something small and charred, and something that looked like a dried up flower.

Sam picks up the dried up flower looking thing. "Goldthread, an herb..." Sam starts.

"...that's been extinct for two hundred years," Eleanor finishes in a hushed tone. She walks over and picks up the silver piece. "That looks Celtic, and not like some kind of new age knock-off, like the 600 years old real deal."

"How do you guys just know all this stuff?" Dean asks, picking up the small charred thing and smelling it.

Eleanor shrugs. "That's the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby, by the way."

"Ugh." He puts the bone down, looking disgusted. "Gross."

Sam picks up the bone. "Relax man, it's like, at least a hundred years old."

"Oh, right, like that makes it better? Witches, man, they're so friggin' skeevy." He moves over to the chair next to the couch and sits down.

"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?"

"This Luke Wallace? He was so vanilla that he made vanilla seem spicy," Dean tells them. Eleanor snorts a laugh. Sam scoffs at their lack of leads.

"I can't find any reason why somebody would want this guy dead," Dean concludes.

The phone rings. Another death.

      They make their way to the crime scene, once again dressed in their FBI attire. Eleanor had to admit, because it was almost Halloween, it did feel a little bit like a costume. They head down the stairs to where the party had evidently taken place. A man wearing a jacket labeled 'Forensic' takes pictures of the tub used for bobbing for apples, and a police officer talks to a girl not much younger than Eleanor.

     Sam and Eleanor go to join the questioning but Dean puts a hand up, stopping them. "I got this one," he says, licking his lips.

      Eleanor pulls a face. "Ew, Dean." At the same time, Sam says, "Two words: jail bait."

      "I would never –"

       Sam simply rolls his eyes at Dean and walks over to the couch. He starts lifting the cushions, looking for a hex bag. Dean smirks behind Sam's back causing Eleanor to slap him on the arm before she walks over to question a different witness.

      "Agent Schaefer, FBI." She tells him, holding up her badge. The boy didn't look much younger than her.

      The boy looks her up and down and smiles appreciatively. Eleanor tried to ignore uncomfortable feeling of his eyes on her. "I'm Justin."

      "You were friends with Jenny, yes?" Eleanor asks, trying to keep her voice even. She opens her notebook.

      "Kind of, we weren't that close. I think she might have had a crush on me. I'm much more into older girls though." He winks at her.

      "Your friend just died and you're flirting with me?" Justin simply shrugs, so Eleanor continues her questioning. "Did she happen to know a man named Luke Wallace?"

       "Uh, not that I know of, no."

        Sam holds up a hex bag he found in the couch cushions. Eleanor spots him and internally sighs in relief.

        "Okay, well thank you for your time," Eleanor says closing her notebook.

        "I could, uh, give you my number? In case you have any more questions." Justin looks at her suggestively.

        "No, that would be unnecessary. Have a good night." Eleanor quickly turns and makes her way over to her brothers. She felt like her skin was crawling and she didn't know why.

       Should she go back and give him her number? That's what any other girl would do. He was young and attractive and obviously interested in her. But it didn't feel right, so she didn't turn around and go back.

      Dean looks at her, then at Justin as she approaches. "He was cute. Did you get his number?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

      Eleanor pulls a face. "No, we have a job to do. And he's still in high school."

      "So? The job has never stopped me from hooking up with people before. And you're nineteen, you like, just graduated."

      Eleanor shrugged. She felt like closing off. This whole thing was uncomfortable. She just wanted to go back to the motel, shower and get started on their research. "I'm good."

      "So, are you into chicks then?" Dean asks.

       "Maybe I'm just not interested in him!" Eleanor snaps. "Just because you'll sleep with anyone with a pulse doesn't mean I will." She takes a deep breath and calms herself. "Sorry, I just wasn't interested and even if I was, he'd probably end up dead because that's what happens when people get mixed up with hunters."

       She walks faster towards the impala, leaving Sam and Dean behind her. Dean turned to Sam, raising an eyebrow. Sam just shrugged in response.

Eleanor made her way straight to the bathroom as soon as she got in the motel room, only stopping to grab a change of clothes on her way to the shower.

The hot water felt good against her skin. It washed away the uncomfortableness she had felt around the boy and the upsetting aspects of the case.

She walks out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair and overhears Sam say, "Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. In the Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st."

"What's happening?" She asks, sitting on the arm of the couch.

Sam hands her the book. "Blood sacrifices, the final one on midnight of October 31st."

"Halloween," Eleanor breathes. "That's tomorrow."

Sam nods. "Exactly."

"What exactly are the, uh, blood sacrifices for?" Dean asks.

"If I'm right, this witch is summoning a demon, and not just any demon – Samhain," Sam informs them.

"Sah-win," Eleanor corrects.

"Huh?"

"It's pronounced Sah-win not 'Sam-hayne.'"

Sam flashes her a tight, straight lipped smile. "Right, uh anyway. The demon, Sah-win," he repeats, putting extra emphasis on the pronunciation.

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Dean asks, bored.

"Dean, Samhain is the damn 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, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him-"

"Actually," Eleanor cuts in, "faces were originally carved into turnips to-" Sam gives her a look and she stops talking. "Right, sorry." She offers an apologetic smile, feeling deflated.

"Anyway, He was exorcised centuries ago," Sam continues.

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

Sam nods. "Exactly, only now instead of demons and blood orgies Halloween is all about kids, candy and costumes."

Eleanor remained quiet, not feeling much like talking anymore. She knew it was stupid. Sam wasn't trying to be mean, hell, he hadn't even said anything but she was still hurt. She always had known she was too sensitive. Maybe she wasn't as good of a hunter as she thought. How could she possibly be a decent hunter if she can't even handle Sam being annoyed at her for interrupting? He had every right to be, after all, she was interrupting something important with useless facts. She was definitely over thinking this like a sensitive little kid.

"Elle! Earth to Eleanor!" Dean waves a hand in front of her face causing her to snap back into reality. She hadn't realized how deep in her thoughts she was. It occurred to her she didn't know what they were talking about anymore.

"Hm?" Her eyes shift over to Dean.

"Did you hear anything about what we just said?"

"Something bad is happening? Witches trying to raise a demon and all that?" she guesses.

      Sam nodded. "A witch is trying to raise Samhain, it can happen once every 600 years, which happens to be tomorrow. Once he's raised, he can do some raising of his own," Sam catches her up.

       "That explains the 600 year old coin." Eleanor says with a nod. "Raising what, exactly?"

       "Dark, evil crap and lots of it, I mean, they follow him around like the friggin' Pied Piper."

      "So we're talking ghosts?" Dean asks. Sam nods.

       "Zombies?" Eleanor adds. Again Sam nods.

       "Leprechauns?"

        "Dean –" his siblings say at the same time. Dean almost laughs at how similar their tone of voice was.

"Those little dudes are scary. Small hands," Dean defends.

        "Look, it just starts with ghosts and ghouls," Sam sighs. "This sucker keeps on going, by night's end we are talking every awful thing we have ever seen. Everything we fight, all in one place."

       "It's gonna be a slaughterhouse," Dean murmurs.

      "Gotta love our job," Eleanor mutters sarcastically.

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

ELEANOR DIDN'T LOVE doing research. In fact, in most cases, she hated it. However, there was something about researching old Celtic lore that really appealed to her. So, she had offered to stay behind and help Sam do more research while Dean went to scout the Wallace house.

Eleanor's phone rings causing Sam to look up from the book he was reading. Dean's name flashes across her screen. She answers the phone and puts it on speaker so Sam could hear. "How's it going?"

"Awesome, yeah, I talked with Mrs. Razor Blade again. I've been sitting out in front of her house for hours and I've got a big steamy pile of nothing."

"Look Dean, someone planted those hex bags, someone with access to both houses. There's gotta be some connection," Sam says from across the room. He stands and makes his way over to the table Eleanor was sitting at to better hear the conversation.

"Yeah, well I hope we find 'em soon cause I'm starting to cramp like a..." Dean trails off. "Son of a bitch."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Quit whining."

"No, Sam, I mean, son of a bitch," Dean says, annoyed. Eleanor looks at Sam, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

The calls clicks off as Dean hangs up on them.

"What the hell just happened?" Eleanor asks.

"Beats me. Guess we'll just find out when he gets back."

Dean came back about a half an hour later. He drops the motel key on the table by the window and looks at his siblings. "Tracy Davis," is all he says.

"The cheerleader you 'totally weren't going to hit on?'" Eleanor asks, using air quotes as she mentions Dean's desire to hit on Tracy.

"Shut up," Dean says, turning to glare at Eleanor. "Turns out Tracy is the Wallaces' babysitter. Told me she never even heard of Luke Wallace."

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

"Yeah, well, if you were a six-hundred-year-old hag and you could pick any costume to come back in, wouldn't you go for a hot cheerleader? I would..." he trails off, seemingly lost in his own thoughts of being a hot cheerleader. Eleanor clears her throat and gives him a disgusted look. Dean turns to look at her with raised eyebrows, smiling innocently.

"Well, Tracy's not as wholesome as she looks," Sam tells them. "Did some digging – apparently she got into a violent altercation with one of her teachers, got suspended from school." He hands the laptop to Dean. Eleanor crosses the room to look over her older brother's shoulder as he reads.

Next to Tracy's picture and information was a note reading: "Student was suspended for a violent act on a teacher."

Eleanor looks up from the computer. "We should probably go check that out."

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

THE ART ROOM was full of masks, some of them downright disturbing. Eleanor glances around the room. She walks over to a particularly creepy one and looks at it closer. She suppresses a shiver. She didn't know why it freaked her out so much but it did.

"Bring back memories?" Sam asks, walking over to the masks Dean and Eleanor had been inspecting.

Dean looked like he had been snapped out of someplace deep in his mind. "What do you mean?"

"Being a teenager, all that angst." He glances over at Eleanor, who was still technically a teenager by definition.

"A bit too many for my comfort," Eleanor wrinkles her nose. She had only graduated a year and a half ago and was not thrilled to be back in a high school.

She turns away from the masks to spot a student walking in. It was Justin from the party. She almost walked out of the room, but she didn't. She'd faced worse than an eighteen year old boy.

Justin puts a big bong-shaped piece into a kiln. Dean smirks. "Now that brings back memories."

"Dude, I need a bigger kiln." He turns and spots Eleanor. A large, flirtatious grin appears on his face. "Hey gorgeous, missed me that much?"

A teacher comes around the corner and Justin is gone before Eleanor has a chance to say anything.

"You three wanted to talk to me?" the man asks.

"Ah, Mr. Harding." Eleanor gives him a professional smile.

"Oh, please, call me Don." He holds out a hand which Sam and Dean shake. Eleanor offers a small wave and apologetic smile instead. She wasn't big on the whole 'shaking hands' thing.

"Okay, Don," Eleanor says politely.

"Even my students call me Don," he continues.

"Yeah, we get it, Don," Dean says curtly. They pull out their badges. "I'm Agent Getty, this is Agent Lee and Agent Greenaway." He points at Sam and then Eleanor as he introduces them. "We just had a few questions about Tracy Davis."

"Uh, yeah, Tracy, uh, bright kid, loads of talent. It's a shame she got suspended," Don frowned.

"You two had a... um, violent altercation?" Eleanor asks, notebook once again at the ready.

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

      "Why?" Sam presses.

       "I, uh, you know, I was only trying to rap with her about her work. It had gotten inappropriate and disturbing."

       Dean turns and gestures at the creepy masks hanging on the wall and the ceiling. "More disturbing than those guys?"

       "She would cover page after page with these bizarre cryptic symbols, and then there were the drawings..." Don trails off and clears his throat. "Detailed images of killings, gory, primitive, and she would depict herself in the middle of them, participating."

      Eleanor raises an eyebrow. "Symbols? What kind of symbols? Something like this?" She shows him the silver coin from the hex bag.

       Don swallows and nods. "Yeah, yeah, I think that might have been one of them."

      "You know where Tracy is now?" Dean asks.

       Don shrugs. "I would imagine her apartment."

       "Her apartment?" Eleanor asks.

       "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."

        Eleanor pastes on another professional smile. "Okay, well, um thank you for your time."

They had decided to split up. Sam went to the apartment while Eleanor and Dean tried talking to Tracy's friends. An hour later they met back at the motel.

"So?" Dean asks, walking over to meet Sam.

Sam sighs. "Tracy was nowhere I could find. Any luck with her friends?"

Eleanor shakes her head. "Nope, luck is not our style." She lets out a humorless laugh. "Her friends don't know where she is."

"It's like the bitch popped a broomstick," Dean adds.

"She could be making the third sacrifice any time," Sam says as they make their way to their motel room.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yes, thank you Sam," he says sarcastically.

A kid in an astronaut costume walks up to them and holds up a bucket of candy. "Trick or treat."

Dean scoffs. "This is a motel," he told the kid flatly. Eleanor hits his arm.

"So?" the kid asks.

"So we don't have any candy."

"Yeah, I'm not dealing with this. You two have fun." Eleanor turns and makes her way back to the room. Her social battery was at zero and she didn't feel like telling a child her dumb older brother ate all of the candy they had.

"Of course he couldn't share the candy. Since when does Dean share?" she mutters as she starts unlocking the door. She might have been a little annoyed Dean had eaten all the candy on his stakeout earlier.

The lock clicks and Eleanor lets herself into the motel room. She drops the keys on the table and looks up, stopping dead in her tracks. "Uh, guys, you might want to come see this!"

❛ ━━━━━━･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

AUTHOR'S NOTE: yeah this ended up way longer than i intended and i ended up having to split the episode !! i ended up at like 3515 words which was unintentional
if you got eleanor's alias references ily
as always, if you could vote and comment if you liked this chapter it's very much appreciated and check out my tiktok clairenovak.wp for edits and updates <3