~*****~

John drops Mary off later into the night. "Dean and Lottie, right?" Mary hums softly. "Not sure you should come in."

"You can trust us." Dean says. "I mean, come on, we're all hunters, right? I mean, we're-- we're practically family."

Mary shakes her head a little. "The thing is, my dad, he's a little, um..."

"Oh, we gotta meet him." I retort.

"You've heard of him?" Mary asks.

"Clearly, not enough." Dean huffs.

Mary leads us in and introduces us to the grisled old man. "So, you two are hunters? Well, tell me something-- You kill vampires with wooden stakes or silver?" Mary's father asks.

I scrunch up my nose. "Neither." I retort. He gives me a hard glance. "You cut their heads off." He gives me the vibes of an old war vet. No wonder Mary was wary. "We pass your test?"

"Yep." He huffed before tossing a book down. "Now get out of my house."

"Dad!" Mary admonished him.

"I don't trust other hunters, Dean, Lottie." He says. "Don't want their help. Don't want them around my family."

"Knock it off, Samuel," A woman chirped from behind.

"They're hunters." Samuel snapped.

"Who passed your little pop quiz, and now I'm inviting them to dinner. You hungry?" She asks us.

I hum affectionately. "Starving."

"Good! I'm Deana. You've met my husband, Samuel." Deana introduces herself. "Now wash up."

"Yes ma'am." I chirp back before turning to Mary. "Samuel and... Deana?" She nods with a smile. Dean's brow furrows. "Really?" I chuckle and follow after the lovely Deana. "Mind if I help out?"

The table is set and its somewhat tense with Samuel just sitting at an angle as if he can't wait to get out of there. "So, first time in Lawrence?" Deana asks.

"Well... been a while." Dean hums as he eats slowly. "Things sure have changed... I think."

"You working a job?" Samuel asks.

"Yeah, maybe." I retort. Samuel was hard to get along with. That much was certain.

"What's that mean?" He asks.

"It means we don't trust other hunters either, Samuel." I say as I calmly eat my food.

Mary clears her throat as I stare at the old man. "Hey, um, so why were you following me and John?" Mary asks.

Dean hums. "I thought something was after your-- your boyfriend." Dean says. "But, um, I don't think that anymore."

"John Winchester mixing it up with spirits." Deana teases. "Can you imagine?"

Samuel does something that I notice John did when I was younger. Every time I'd mention a boy, he'd make that irritated face. "I saw that." Mary complained.

"What?" Samuel huffed.

"That sour-lemon look." Mary states.

Samuel tries to save himself. "Now, hold on. John's a really, really nice... naïve civilian."

"So what? Would you rather me be with a guy like this?" Mary asks as she gestures to Dean.

"What? No, no--" Dean says quickly.

"Mary, of course not, it's just--" Samuel says quickly.

"That's enough," Deana cuts in. "Both of you. We have company."

I clear my throat. "So, what about you, Sam? You working a job?" I ask.

"Might be." He shoots back.

"He's working a job for the Whitshire Farm." Mary says with a roll of her eyes.

"Whitshire... why does that name sound familiar to me?" Dean asks.

"It's been all over the papers-- Tom Whitshire. Got tangled up in a combine a few towns over." Samuel explains.

"That kind of thing happens." Dean retorts.

"Except why was he on it in the first place when his crops were all dead?" Samuel asks.

I hum. "Demonic omens?"

"That's what I got to find out." Samuel says.

"What about the rest of the town?" Dean asks. "Did you find anything on the web?"

I clear my throat and stomp on his foot as discretely as I could. "It's this new chain some of the other hunters in the northeastern states. Guess it hadn't made it down yet." I say after Samuel gives Dean a curious look.

"Electrical storms, maybe." Deana answers. "The weather service graphs should be here on Friday."

"By mail?" Dean hums.

"No, we hired a jetliner to fly them to us overnight." Samuel snorts.

"Sorry," I clear my throat again. "It's different for us, I have the gift of sight, so we usually never have to wait for this kind of stuff-- you know, it seems like we might be hunting the same thing." I change the subject.

"You know, if we go in there in numbers, we'll take care of this real quick." Dean suggests.

"What part of we work alone do you not understand, son?" Samuel asks.

I hum softly and fold my hands underneath my chin. "Then I guess Dean and I will be taking our leave." I say softly. "It was nice to meet you. And the dinner was delicious." Deana thanks us and presses tender kisses to our cheeks before we head out. "We really need to figure out what's going on-- I mean, what the hell-- your mother's family were hunters?" I hiss as Dean and I get into the car.

Dean groans. "I didn't know, hell, I don't think Dad knew either." Dean says tiredly.

"One thing I do know..." I trail off. "We're gonna sneak this case out from under his nose."

"Damn right we are." Dean agrees.

I glance back at the house for a moment before glancing back at Dean. "So... you're named after your grandma, huh?"

"Oh, shut up!" Dean whined.

~*****~

Dean couldn't resist a few dirty jokes when I'd put on the nun outfit again. After having Mary and having little to no interaction with the opposite sex-- aside from Bobby and the occasional rude customer-- it felt kind of strange to hear him be a perv again.

Thankfully, Whitshire farm was the perfect distraction. I sat in the living with while Dean spoke with the wife of the deceased in the kitchen. "Thank you for your time." Dean hums politely as they reenter. "Sister Lauren?"

I give her a polite smile. "If you need anything, don't be shy, and give us a visit. We help all those in need to understand God's plan." I say in my best bullshit tone. Dean's lips are moving around as if he's trying not to smile and laugh. "Father, it's time we left this poor woman's home. You just get some rest, dear." Dean was nearly gasping for air when I'd led him to the door.

I suppress the grin on my face as I come face to face with Samuel. And he's not the least bit happy. "Father." He hums as he trains his gaze onto Dean. "Sister." He says to me. "I see you beat me here."

"The lord is funny that way." Dean mentions. "Beth Whitshire... This is my associate, our senior-- senior-- priest, Father Cheney."

"Please accept our deepest condolences on behalf of the county diocese." Samuel hums as he passes her an ugly looking fruit cake.

"Thank you." Mrs. Whitshire hums as he takes it.

"Miss Whitshire was just telling me all about Tom, and how normal and ordinary things were on the day before his death." Dean says.

"I see." Samuel hums. "So, you didn't notice anything unusual, ma'am?"

"You mean like my husband's guts fertilizing the back forty?" Mrs. Whitshire asks.

"Excuse us." I hum softly, feigning feint. Dean helps me down the steps.

We approach Mary and Mrs. Whitshire's son. "Charlie, would you like to tell the father here what you just told me?" Mary asks the obviously distressed boy.

Charlie sucked in a tight breath. "Dad drank sometimes. Sometimes he got rough with Mom."

"And that's when the stranger came?" Mary asks.

Charlie shakes his head as if he doesn't quite believe it himself. "I just thought he was some bible-thumper, like you-all. He showed up about a week ago."

"Saying what?" Dean asks.

"Did I want the beatings to stop?" Charlie recited. "I just thought he was crazy, I didn't think--" Charlie sucked in another breath. "And the next thing I know, Dad's dead. Am I going to jail?"

"No, you didn't do this, Charlie." I reassure him.

"Did the stranger want something in return?" Dean asks.

Charlie shook his head again. "He didn't want anything."

"Come on, Chuck. He wasn't just handing out freebies, now, was he?" Dean pressures.

"He did say something about come a-calling ten years from now and maybe he'd want something then." Charlie explains.

"Something like what?" I ask.

Charlie shakes his head. "I don't know, okay? Look, I told you he was nuts."

"Take a deep breath, son." I hum in a soft tone. "Father?" I gesture for him to walk away with me. Mary trails after us after a moment.

"What do you two think?" Mary asks us.

"I think he just pimped his soul to a demon, and he doesn't even know it." Dean mentions.

Mary looks back at him and trails over. "Charlie, do you remember what the stranger looked like?"

Charlie nodded. "Yeah, uh... He's about five, ten... white. He was kind of normal-looking, really."

"Anything else?" Mary asks.

"There was one thing." Charlie trails off in thought. I hum in response, urging him to continue. "It's just, the light hit his eyes in a weird way, and... for a moment, I could have sworn--"

"What, that they were black? Or red, maybe?" Dean asks.

"No," Charlie shakes his head. "They were yellow." My back straightens. "Pale yellow." Dean glances down at me, and I can tell he's thinking the same thing.

~*****~

Back at the Campbell house, Samuel is trying to talk us out of finding the demon. "What do you say we just slow down and talk this thing through?" Samuel asks.

"There's nothing to talk about." Dean says quickly.

"Except your saying that this is a demon, and none of us have ever heard of a demon with yellow eyes." Samuel retorts.

"Yeah, well, we have." I snap. "This thing killed our family."

"Just calm down, you two."

"You don't get it, do you?" Dean asks. "I mean, you are in danger. We are all in danger. In fact, you need to get yourself someplace safe."

"Not until we know what we're dealing with here." Samuel says.

"Sam's right, Dean-- it could be a demon, it could be a shapeshifter, any number of things." Deana says softly.

"I know what this thing is." Dean says. "And I'm gonna kill it. That's all the talking I need to do."

"You're gonna kill a demon? How?" Samuel scoffs.

I snort. "There's a hunter named Daniel Elkins." I recite. "He lives in Colorado. He has Colt's gun. The Colt."

"Yeah, I heard about the Colt." Samuel snorts. "I used to tell it to Mary as a bedtime story."

"Well, it's real." I retort.

Samuel shares a look with his wife. "All right, say that it is-- you got some kind of crystal ball telling you where this demon's gonna be?"

"Yeah, maybe I do." Dean hums as he tugs out John's journal.

"What's this?" Samuel asks.

"It's a list." Dean says.

"Of what?"

"My Dad wrote down anyone he thought ever came in contact with the yellow-eyed demon-- who, where, and when."

"Why?"

"'Cause the more he could learn about the son of a bitch, the more he could figure out why it killed my mom." Dean says. "Look." He taps at the paper. "Whitshire Farm. I told you that name sounded familiar."

"Whitshire farms-- what was two days ago." Samuel mentioned. I paled a little and busied myself with cleaning my guns. "How the hell is that on your dad's list?"

I covered for Dean. "I told you I was born with the sight." I explain softly. "Sometimes, it lets me peer a little further along. With the right materials, I can pinpoint any given time and describe it. It's how Dean and I met." I explain rather calmly. "He says the demon's gonna hit here tomorrow night." 

"Liddy Walsh?" Samuel asks. "Haleyville."

"That's close." Dean hums.

"Yeah, it's about three miles, but..." Samuel trails off.

I glance up at them and purse my lips. "Look, I know you guys think we're crazy."

"You two seem like really nice kids, but yeah, you're crazy." Samuel explains.

I snort. "Yeah. Maybe. But I know where this bastard's gonna be. And I'm gonna stop it.... Once and for all." Dean says.

"I'll start the car." I say to Dean as I hurry past him.