"Aren't we done with these stories yet?" Tyler whined as the three kids once again met in the tent, Zach holding the book in front of him. His sister was already there, her stuffed animal held tightly in her arms, a bowl of popcorn off to the side. "I don't think they can get any better."

"We have to finish the book," Zach insisted, his eyes wide as he stared at his friends.

"Zach, are you okay?" Sophia asked, leaning back away from her brother at his frenzied look.

"I will be if you don't stop asking questions and let me start reading!" He yelled, both Tyler and Sophia quieting down to placate Zach. "There was a house at the end of the lane," he started reading, his voice low, much creepier than normal.

"This house was nestled back in the trees, the wood no longer white but a dull, greasy gray. The windows were covered in dust, and everyone, the young and the old refused to step inside, afraid of what awaited them."

"Years past, and still it sat empty, many people thinking that it would disintegrate with the wind. But still it sat there, until one day!" Zach exclaimed, glancing up at his friend and sister with wild eyes.

"What happened?" Tyler asked, his voice much higher than normal.

"It was almost like magic. This couple moved in, and the house transformed with them. The grey walls turned back to white, the windows shined the brightest of any in town. They were happy people, bringing children closer to them, offering them sweets. They began selling candy to the children, bags of candy. These little shiny purple balls. Children loved them, pleading with their parents for enough change to buy a bag after school."

"What's so scary about candy?" Sophia asked.

"After a month of selling their special purple candy, our heroes roll into town, looking into the mysterious deaths that had recently occured. Including those of children."

"Dean, do you think this is a normal hunt, or...," you asked, sitting in the front of the Impala for once, as Sam stretched out in the backseat. Dean had pulled you closer to him, his hand resting lightly on your thigh.

"I really don't know," he sighed lightly. "I wish I could say it was, but I also feel the pull of this hunt, much like the other ones. I just wish Cas would hurry up and figure out what's going on."

"I do too," you whispered. "I have a bad feeling about this one."

"We'll be fine, like we always are," Dean tried assuring you.

Turning silent, you stared out the window as Dean drove down Main Street. It was small and quaint, with only a couple of Mom and Pop shops. At the end was a little hotel, and Dean went inside to reserve a room while you turned to wake up the sleeping moose behind you.

Stretching, you watched as children passed by, bags of a strange looking purple candy clenched in their hands, their mouths dyed purple. Expecting them to be silly, and bouncing with all that sugar, you watched as they shuffled down the street, almost zombielike.

"That's weird, isn't it?" Sam asked, just as Dean came out of the lobby, smiling widely.

"So they only had two rooms left, both singles," he announced. "Sam, you get your own room for once! Y/N and I can share."

It had become a normal habit in the week since your last hunt, and you didn't mind it at all. After all, falling asleep being held in Dean's arms was definitely not a hardship, and you found yourself sleeping better than you had in a long time.

Pushing open the door to your hotel room, you were pleasantly surprised. A simple queen sized bed was placed in the middle, a patchwork quilt brightening the room. A small table, along with a fridge and couch completed the living area, but the bathroom had a deep bathtub along with a nice shower. "This is actually pretty decent," you announced as Dean brought your items in.

"Ohh, I bet you're going to want to try out that tub," he stated before plopping down on the bed beside you. "Hopefully we get this hunt taken care of fast, and then we can spend a day relaxing. Maybe I could even join you?"

Sure, you and Dean had been sleeping in the same bed, but you had never gone past the kissing stage. Mainly because you were worried that you wouldn't be good enough for the experienced man. But you didn't tell him that, and he didn't push.

"So, tell me again why we're here?" You asked just as Sam came into the room, settling down in one of the chairs, opening his laptop.

"Because of the weird way children are dying," Sam explained, pulling up the police records. "There have been four confirmed child deaths in the past month, and each one have been connected."

"How?"

"They literally had no blood left in their bodies. Their veins were filled with these tiny little bugs," he said, turning to show you the screen, and you hid your face in Dean's shoulder, creeped out by the little bugs. "The weirdest thing?"

"What's weirder than little bugs in your veins?" You asked, making Dean chuckle.

"Their hearts were gone. No sign of getting cut open, nothing. But no heart."

"So what are we thinking? A very tricky werewolf?"

"I have no idea. The police haven't been able to tie them together. The kids were different ages, and hung out in different circles."

"Wait, I did notice something. Sam remember? Those kids out front, they seemed so weird. Eating that purple candy!"

"That's not much to go on, but we've dealt with less," Sam thought out loud. "I'd really like to head down to the police department, see what else I can find out."

"Good. Y/N and I will try to find some kids, see if they can tell us where this purple candy is coming from, and if it's tied in."

"Meet back here in a couple of hours?" Sam suggested, Dean pulling you to your feet before you left the comfortable bed behind.

"It seems like every kid has eaten this candy!" Dean exclaimed. "I wonder if it's the culprit?"

"Yeah, but no one is telling us where it's being bought at," you groaned. "If it is the cause, you would think we could figure out something."

"Excuse me," a small voice whispered, a hand reaching up to tug on your coat. "Are you here to stop those people?"

"What people?" You asked, turning to see a small boy, about six years old with dirty blonde hair and light blue eyes staring up at you.

"The people selling the candy. My friends are getting sick," he whispered. "I'm scared."

Kneeling down, Dean turned the boys attention to him. "Why don't you tell us about these people, and where they live."

"They live down there," he pointed. "Selling candy. They were old when they came, but now, now they look young. It scares me."

"Have you eaten any of the candy?" You asked him, and he shook his head. "Good, keep it that way. Go home, and we'll get this figured out."

Watching as the boy ran away, you turned to Dean. "Shall we go check them out?"

Taking his phone out, he called Sam, leaving a message as you made your way down the street. The houses turned from well maintained, to dark and falling apart. Watching closely, you hoped you could figure out which one you needed. It wasn't until you rounded the corner that you knew finding it would be much easier than you thought.

It was the middle of three houses, and it stood out like a sore thumb. Both houses flanking it were falling apart, their windows boarded, no trespassing signs on the porch. But the one in the middle was tucked into the trees, it's white paint vibrant against the darkness. It looked cleaned, and well maintained, and a sign proudly proclaimed it to be a sweets shop. "I think we found it," you announced.

"Why don't I have a good feeling about this?" Dean wondered out loud just as a couple stepped out onto the porch. The woman was stunning, with her long, thick dark brown hair and voluptuous body. The man was handsome with his olive skin and thick wavy hair. Standing side by side, they waved towards you, a smile upon their face.

"Welcome!" They called out, as you carefully stepped forward. "How can we help you?"

"Hi, we were just wondering if you were selling those candies?" Dean asked, keeping his arm wrapped around you waist.

The closer you stepped to the house, the more you could sense something was wrong. The grass in the front had a sweet, pungent smell, and the women's eyes were dark and cruel. Her hand was wrapped in a blood stained cloth. "We are. We normally sell to children, but if you want some I just made a fresh batch."

"No thank you," Dean told them. "We were just wondering if they were connected to the deaths of the children in town."

"I knew we would draw hunters if we weren't careful," her husband muttered, moving faster than you expected, standing in front of you and Dean before you could blink.

"Y/N, run!" Dean exclaimed, just as the man smashed Dean's head with a rock, immediately knocking him unconscious.

"What the...," you started to say, pulling your gun from your back pocket just as the man turned on you, his teeth long and sharp. Shooting him in the chest, you stared in shock as it didn't seem to phase him before he brought the rock down, knocking you out instantly.

Your head aching, you woke up, immediately remembering what happened. Opening your eyes, you groaned as pain radiated through your head, your vision blurred from the blood that had seeped out of your wound.

You were chained to a table, both your hands and legs held by chains, an iv attached to your arm, blood slowly leaving your body.

"Y/N!" Dean exclaimed from your left, and you were just able to see him tied to a chair, his mouth tinged purple.

"Did they...,"

"Yeah, two bags full of candy," he muttered. "I can already feel it taking effect. My reflexes are slower, and I feel sluggish."

"Dean, I feel so tired," you whispered, watching the blood leave you through the IV.

"That's from blood loss," he muttered. "Y/N, stay as still and as calm as possible. We'll figure something out."

"Dean, I think it's going to be too late," you whispered, already noticing how cold your body felt.

"It is too late," the woman announced from the doorway. "You've already lost most of your blood. In a moment, you'll be nothing but a lifeless body, another tasty meal for me and my husband."

"No!" Dean yelled, pulling at his bindings, as your eyes closed, and the last breath left your body.

"No!" Sophia exclaimed, tossing her stuffed animal to the side. "These stories have been scary, but she can't die!"

"That's what it says in the story," Zach argued. "I can't change what it says."

"I like her, and I want her ending up with Dean. So I say she can't die," Sophia insisted.

"And how do you expect to change it?" Tyler asked her.

Thinking for a moment, Sophia pulled out her marker, taking the book from her brother's hands. At first she thought he was going to fight her, but he gave up the book, and she quickly wrote in the limited space. "There, that's better."

"Sophia, I don't think that will work," Zach started to say, but she just glared at him. "Fine, I'll read it."

"Thank you," she answered, sitting back.

With a deep breath, Y/N shot straight up, as far as the chains would let you. Breathing heavily, your eyes wide and frantic, you stared around the room. Dean was no longer in the chair, and the woman lay bloody off to the side, her head no longer attached. You could hear voices in the other room, and you struggled against the chains.

"Dean, you know Cas won't be able to bring her back," Sam was saying. "We need to get her out of here, and give her a hunter's funeral."

"This isn't right!" Dean was arguing. "She wasn't meant to die this way! I knew something was wrong, I should have made her stay back at the motel!"

"Do you think she would have? This is Y/N we're talking about. She died trying to save children, and that's what matters."

"Sam, I never got the chance to tell her," Dean's voice softened as you stilled. "Why didn't I tell her?"

"I'm sorry," Sam told his brother. "I wish things were different, I really do."

Footsteps were heard as they came back into the room. You could tell the exact moment they noticed you, both men freezing in their spots, their eyes wide as they stared your way. "Y/N?" Dean breathed, but Sam placed a hand on his chest, stopping him.

"Dean, this could be a trick."

"Y/N, how are you...,"

"I don't know," you whispered. "I remember dying, and then suddenly, I'm back."

They both came forward, Sam with his silver knife in his hands. Carefully, he slid it across your skin, his eyes widening as you made no reaction. "Dean, I think it's really her. Somehow, she was brought back."

As soon as Sam said those words, Dean was undoing your chains, pulling you into his arms. "Damn it Y/N, I thought I had lost you."

"You had. I have no idea why I'm back," you answered, scared. "Do you think it has to do with, whatever's going on?"

"I think that's our only answer. If we could figure out what is going on," Dean muttered, just as Sam came into the room, a piece of paper in his hands. It was yellowed, the words faded.

"Dean, I think you need to see this," he spoke up, handing the paper over to him. From your spot, you could barely make out the printed words, along with words written in childish script, in bright red marker.

"Y/N, this is exactly what happened to you and I," Dean stuttered. "And this writing here. I think it's what brought you back to life!"

"Does that mean we're living in some sort of book?" You asked, both brothers staring at each other with wide eyes, no one having the answer.