chapter sixteen

who ya' gonna call?

♰

richardson, texas — june 7th, 2006

  CORDELIA SAT IN the back of the Impala and a sense of familiarity washed over her. She had been riding the past few hunts with Carter, but he had returned home to see his parents for a bit, leaving Cordelia with the boys.

Like it used to be.

Three hours into the drive, she came to the quick conclusion that it was easier to pretend that her feelings didn't exist when Carter was there. She could take a breather if needed. Now, it was back to long car journeys with stolen glances in the rear-view mirror and small, crappy motel beds that had to be shared.

After that last case, Cordelia was positively drained. Her leg had healed, as well as her stab wound, but her back was worse for wear.

From the driver's seat, Dean huffed boredly as he looked at the road ahead. His eyes briefly flickered up to glance at Cordelia in the mirror before they flitted over to his younger brother. Sam laid asleep in the passenger seat, mouth wide open.

Cordelia watched in amusement as Dean shuffled around, as though he was looking for something before he grabbed a plastic spoon and gently placed it in his brother's mouth.

With a grin pulling at his lips, he flipped open his phone and took a picture of his younger brother. He held his phone up, the device facing Cordelia so that she could get a good look at it.

She huffed in amusement and leant forward. "You're a child," she whispered over to him, lips pulling into a smile. "But send me that."

He laughed lowly with a nod and placed his phone down before reaching for the volume dial, twisting it, he turned the speaker up loudly, music blaring through the small space of the Impala.

It wasn't the music that woke Sam, it was Dean's loud, out-of-tune singing that jerked Sam awake. The brunet's arms wailed about and he spluttered as he noticed the spoon ⸻ soon spitting the plastic out, much to Dean's dismay.

Dean air drummed along to the song against the steering wheel and looked over with a grin at Sam, who grimaced as he wiped his mouth and turned down the music, a sour expression on his face.

"Ha, ha. Very funny," Sam said dryly, shooting his brother his classic bitchface.

"Sorry," Dean replied, though the wide smile on his lips and breathy laugh that left his mouth contradicted his words. "Not a lot of scenery here in East Texas kinda gotta make your own," he told Sam before looking into the rear-view mirror, a smirk on his lips as he locked eyes with Cordelia, "Except you, sweetheart, you're scenery enough."

Cordelia frowned at his words, "you're lucky you're pretty, cause that was so lame."

You're scenery enough? What did that even mean?

"Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not gonna start that crap up again," Sam insisted, a serious look on his face.

"Start what up?" Dean asked in confusion.

"That prank stuff. It's stupid and it always escalates," Sam argued, Cordelia smiled in amusement at the sight. He was like a pouty child.

"You afraid you're gonna get a little nair in your shampoo again, huh?" Dean taunted smugly, clearly setting his brother up for a challenge.

Sam met his brother's eye for a quick minute before he shrugged cockily, "Alright. Just remember, you started it."

"Oh, bring it on, baldy," Dean shot back.

Cordelia leant forward, bracing her hand on the front seat. "Full disclosure, I want no part of this."

"Oh, no, no, no. You, Cordelia Moore, better watch your back," Dean shook his head, briefly turning to meet her eye ⸻ a wide grin sat on his plump lips.

"Yeah, absolutely not. Trust me, Dean, I go too big or too small ⸻ I might give your fragile heart a heart attack."

"Mhm, okay, Cordelia," Dean nodded sarcastically, sharing a look with Sam.

The youngest Winchester turned in his seat and glanced back at her. "Your idea of pranking someone is cuttin' the heels outta' socks," he sent her a pointed stare, an amused smile playing on his lips. "You know, you could always back out now..."

"Nope, I'm good," she shrugged, reaching down into her bag to grab a lollipop.

"Whatever you say, Cor," Sam shrugged, a smile on his face before he turned his gaze out of the window ⸻ eyes following the passing trees. "Where are we anyway?"

"A few hours outside of Richardson. Give me the lowdown again," Dean said.

Sam grabbed the newspaper clipping, eyes shifting over the words as he read them aloud, "Alright, about a month or two ago, this group of kids goes poking around this local haunted house-"

"Haunted by what?" Dean cut his brother off with a deep frown etched on his face.

"Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit," Sam shrugged and Cordelia leant further forward, successfully snatching the paper out of Sam's hand, to which he huffed and threw his arms up in exasperation.

"It takes girls and strings them up in the rafters," Cordelia read as she fell back into her seat, the words muffled as the lollipop sat in her mouth. "That group of kids Sam was on about, they saw a girl hanging from the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?" Dean asked her, eyes flickering up to meet hers in the rear-view mirror.

"Well, that's the thing... by the time the cops got there, the body was gone," Sam mused, lips pursed in thought. "So the cops were saying the kids were just yanking chains."

"Maybe the cops are right," Dean shrugged.

"Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids' firsthand accounts. They seem pretty sincere."

"Where'd you read these accounts?" Cordelia asked with a frown, moving the lollipop away from her mouth.

Sam scoffed out a laugh and looked aside, almost in embarrassment, "Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas, so... uh, last night I was surfing some local... paranormal websites-" an amused smile pulled at Cordelia's lips as Sam's voice grew quieter, "-and I found one."

"And what's it called?" Dean asked, a mocking tone to his voice as he angled his head towards Sam.

Sam hesitated for a moment and rolled his lips into his mouth to conceal a smile, "Hellhoundslair.com."

"Cute," Cordelia murmured under her breath before putting the cherry lollipop back in her mouth, she flickered through the research sheets.

A scoff left Dean's lips. "Pft. Let me guess, streamin' live outta' mom's basement?"

Sam couldn't help the grin that pulled at his lips, "Yeah, probably."

"Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit them in the pursqueeter."

"Wow, big word for you, Dean," Cordelia teased, placing the sheets of parchment in her lap as she, once again, leant forward, arms resting on the front seat ⸻ her face closer to his than intended.

Dean glanced over at her, a cocky smirk pulled at his plump lips, "Not the only big-"

"No," Sam shook his head, he turned and placed his large hand on Cordelia's face and shoved her back. "Case, remember?" He pointed over at Dean and then Cordelia pointedly.

Though the Moore wasn't listening, she was too fixated on fixing her hair that Sam had ever-so-rudely messed up.

A deep rumbled chuckle escaped Dean's lips, but nonetheless, he shut up and concentrated on driving. Well, he tried to, but his thoughts were on the brunette in the back. Thoughts of how close she was to him, how he could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo, thoughts of her lips being mere inches from his.

Sam's voice, like the mood-killer it was, brought him out of it. "Look, we let dad take off, which was a mistake, by the way, and now we don't know where the hell he is. So meantime, we gotta find ourselves somethin' to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out."

Dean slowly nodded at his brother's words in understanding, "Alright. So, where do we find these kids?"

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this."

♰

It was dark by the time the three had arrived at Rodeo Drive, a fast food outlet. They had spoken to the kids and they had some... interesting things to say.

"It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life, I swear to God."

"From the moment we walked in... the walls were painted black."

"Red."

"I think it was blood."

"With all these freaky symbols..."

"Crosses and stars and..."

"Pentagons."

"Pentecostals."

"Whatever. I had my eyes closed the whole time."

"I can damn sure tell you this much. No matter what anybody else says..."

"That poor girl."

"With the black..."

"Blonde..."

"Red hair, just hangin' there."

"Kicking!"

"Without even moving!"

"She was real."

"And kinda hot, like you." Cordelia grimaced at the words that left the young boy's mouth. "Except she was hot in a dead sort of way."

"O-kay!" She rose her eyebrows, eyes wide. "How'd you find out about the place, anyway?"

"Craig took us."

So, after that very odd questioning, they headed down to the record store that Craig worked at, which, luckily, was still open.

Cordelia grimaced at the loud, booming rock music that reverberated throughout the shop. The young man behind the counter whirled around as the sound of the bell above the door dinged.

"Can I help you guys with anything?" The young boy asked, rounding the counter with a box of records in hand.

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asked, watching the boy as he shuffled through the records on display.

"I am," he answered, giving them a weird look at the fact they knew his name.

"We're reporters with the Dallas Morning News, I'm Cordelia, that's Sam and Dean," the brunette told him, a sickly sweet smile on her lips as she pointed over at the Winchesters.

"No way," Craig placed the box of records down and turned his full attention to the trio. "Yeah, I'm a... I'm a writer, too. I write for my school's lit magazine."

"Oh, good for you, Morrison," Dean quipped, eyes falling to the records in front of him, his lips curled up in an impressed motion.

The boy shot Dean a look at his words. Sam nudged his brother harshly in the ribs before sending the young boy a smile. "Um, we're doing an article on local hauntings, and rumour has it you might know about one."

"You mean the Hell House?" Craig frowned, face falling suspiciously flat at the words.

"That's the one," Dean nodded.

"I didn't think there was anything to the story," Craig said quietly, a guarded expression on his face.

"Why don't you tell us the story?" Sam said, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Craig let out a big sigh, as though it was an inconvenience and Cordelia narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Maybe he was annoyed because they were questioning him while he was working, which would be understandable, but she got the feeling that wasn't the reason.

"Well, supposedly back in the thirties, this farmer Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in the house with his six daughters, it was during the depression, his crops were failing," he began to tell them, returning to behind the desk as he did so, opting Cordelia and Sam to turn to face him.

Dean, however, got distracted by the records. Cordelia turned back and found Dean, holding up a Metallica album. She rolled her eyes and internally sighed, taking two steps towards him, she grabbed the record out of his hand and put it back.

"Concentrate, asshole," she hissed under her breath, hand latching around his arm so that she could drag him back over to the desk.

"-he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop but... he just strung 'em up, one after another and when he was all finished he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

"Where'd you hear all this?" Dean asked.

Craig hesitated for a moment, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from. You gotta realise, I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do," Sam mused.

Once again, Craig paused, he swallowed roughly and thought to himself. "I don't know what the hell to think, man. I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real, and she was dead," he inhaled sharply at the words that left his mouth, as though he, himself, didn't believe it. "This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't want to go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?"

The three shared a look at his words, a silent conversation was held before Cordelia looked toward the young boy with a sweet smile. "Thanks."

♰

richardson, texas — june 8th, 2006
the hell house

The next morning, the three headed to the Hell House bright and early. Cordelia grimaced as her feet trudged through the wet mud, coating her shoes and the bottom of her jeans in the dirt.

She looked down at her shoes with an impatient expression on her face, "I don't get why you woke me up for this, I can't even go inside with you, me being here is pointless as hell."

"If I have to wake up at the crack of freakin' dawn, so do you," Dean gave her a sarcastic smile and threw his arm over her shoulder.

"So, what? If you're miserable, I have to be?" She quipped, shooting him a look of annoyance.

"Mhm," he nodded with a smug smile.

Sam, on the other hand, paid no mind to their conversation. His eyes were glued onto the house in front of him, "Can't say I blame the kid."

"Yeah, so much for curb appeal," Dean retorted as they moved closer, he lifted his arm from around Cordelia's shoulder as they split up to take a look around the outskirts of the house.

"You get anything on the EMF?" The Moore asked, glancing over at Dean.

"It's no good," he shrugged, slumping his shoulders. "I think the thing's," he nodded up to the overhead powerlines, as he stuffed the EMF back in his pocket, "still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings."

"Yeah, that'll do it," Sam sighed in frustration before tilting his head to gesture towards the house. "C'mon let's go."

Dean nodded at his brother's words, but before they moved off to the house, he turned to Cordelia and placed both hands on her shoulders. He looked down at her and gave her a condescending look which had her rolling her eyes, "You, stay."

"I'm not a dog, Dean," she grumbled, smacking his hands off of her.

But he merely ignored her words. "Stay," he thrust a finger in her face to emphasize his point. Sam chuckled at his brother before grabbing a hold of his jacket, tugging him away from the girl, he smacked Dean upside the head, though his amused smile was prominent.

They looked around once they made it inside, eyes settling on the graffiti and candles which were strewn out all over the place.

Taking this as an opportunity, Sam turned to his brother. "So, uh, what happened with you and Cordy?" He asked, feigning confusion. He knew what happened, but he wanted to hear Dean's side ⸻ and if he knew his brother, which he did, he knew that Dean had feelings for Cordelia, but he was too stupid to do anything about it.

"What?" Dean whirled around to face his brother as he flicked on the flashlight, causing Sam to wince as the harsh light hit his eyes.

"You never said," he told Dean whilst shoving the light away from him.

"Nothin'," Dean brushed it off as he turned away from Sam, focusing on something else in the room.

Sam gave him a look and Dean rolled his eyes. It took all of thirty seconds for Dean to spill. Sam had a gift when it came to stuff like this and no matter what Dean was like ( keeping his feelings to himself ) Sam, the majority of the time, managed to break through the wall.

So, he told him everything. The kiss. What he said. What he said when he saw her in Nebraska a few weeks after that. He told Sam how he felt ⸻ in Dean fashion, anyway.

It went like this; a grumbled confession with a discarded shrug and an eye roll. Nonetheless, it had Sam smiling.

"It was stupid to get that close, I mean, look what happened," Dean muttered under his breath, looking up to meet his brother's eye, but Sam just continued to stare at him. "Would you stop? Blink or somethin'."

"So you kissed her, said you didn't mean it, said some crappy things to her and now you think that deep down she hates you?" Sam's amusement was obvious, which had Dean rolling his eyes. "Dude, you apologised, she doesn't hate you."

"I know that now," Dean stressed. "We put it behind us."

Sam sighed at Dean's words, "I'm asking this as your brother, not Cordelia's friend, but do you have feelings for her?"

The look on Dean's face said all he needed to know.

"Oh, shut up," Dean grumbled, glaring at his brother who was smiling wider than a Cheshire cat.

"Look, I think she feels the same, she can't just turn it off like that, you know?" Sam's face softened as he tried to give his brother a look of encouragement. "You could always talk to her, you know, really talk to her."

Whilst Dean didn't say anything in response to his brother's words, he did take them into consideration.

After a beat of silence, Sam gave his brother a pointed look, "I can't believe you brought up her dad."

Dean groaned in dismay, "I don't know why I did, it just- it just came out."

"You mention her dad and she'll just... shut down," Sam told his brother as he pulled out his EMF.

"You ever meet him?" Dean asked curiously, following after Sam as he ventured further into the dark house.

"Once," Sam glanced back at his brother briefly. "I spent Thanksgiving with her family... her dad came back from a fishing trip, or at least that's what they told me," he said and Dean immediately caught drift that Sam was insinuating he was actually on a hunt, "And she just... I don't know, she shut down, it was like she wasn't even herself."

"What's he like?" Dean asked, eyes trained on the spray paint that was on the walls. Sam pulled a face and Dean winced. "That bad, huh?"

"That bad," Sam nodded in agreement, words trailing off. "She isn't herself when he's there, guess that's why she's runnin' from him."

"Mhm," Dean nodded to himself before whistling as his eyes fell onto the reverse cross that was painted on the wall in a crimson red. "Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger here in his time."

"And after his time, too," Sam spoke, pointing toward a sigil that had been spray painted. "The reverse cross has been used by satanists for centuries, but the sigil of sulphur didn't show up in San Francisco until the sixties."

Dean stared at Sam with a dumbfounded expression on his face. "That is exactly why you never get laid," he muttered under his breath, Sam shot him a look of offence as he pulled out his phone and took a picture of the sigil.

"Hey, before you start talking to me about getting laid, why don't you man up and tell Cordelia how you feel?" Sam shot back, raising his eyebrows expectantly at his brother.

Dean paused and his face contorted into one of annoyance, he opened his mouth to say something but snapped his lips shut and walked off with a shake of his head, grumbling to himself under his breath.

"What about this one? You seen this one before?" Dean tilted his head as he eyed another one of the painted symbols on the wall.

Sam turned around to get a look at what it was he was talking about and took a step toward Dean, getting a closer look. "No," Sam frowned, words coming out quietly as he, yet again, lifted his phone to take a picture of the unknown symbol.

"I have... somewhere," Dean's frown deepened as he tried to wrack his brain.

Sam lifted his hand and smeared his finger down the wall, paint smudging downward as he did so. "It's paint," he glanced down at his finger with a sigh. "Seems pretty fresh, too."

"I don't know, Sam," Dean glanced around. "I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind, but the cops might be right about this one."

"Yeah. Maybe," Sam sighed again and contrary to Dean's words, he continued to snap pictures of the different symbols that were strewn across the walls.

A sudden crash from another room had the brothers turning, they shared a look before heading over towards the closed door of the room.

They took positions on either side of the door and after a few seconds, Dean gave Sam a nod and they used their weight to burst through the door.

They both groaned as bright lights shone in their faces, they instinctively held their hands up, covering their eyes.

"God!" Someone groaned loudly, irritation clear in his voice. "Cut!"

The cameras and lights soon disappeared and the Winchester brothers were face to face with two boys.

"Just a couple humans," one of the boys grumbled, annoyance written across his face as he glared at Sam and Dean. "What're you guys doing here?"

"The hell are you doing here?" Dean shot back gruffly.

"Ah, we belong here," the other boy pulled a face as though it was obvious. "We're professionals."

"Professional what?" Dean spat back.

"Paranormal investigators," that same boy answered, reaching into his pocket he pulled out two small cards, holding them out towards the brothers. "Yeah, take a look at that, fellas."

"Oh, you gotta' be kidding me," Dean grumbled under his breath, his eyes rolled as he glanced down at it. He gave the boys a dry look, but they just smirked smugly back over at him.

Where are the cameras? He thought to himself, this had to be a joke.

"Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler," Sam read aloud dryly, "Hellhoundslair.com ⸻ you guys run that website."

"Yeah," Ed smiled proudly.

"Oh, yeah.Yeah, we're huge fans," Dean said wryly, shooting his brother a weird look in passing.

"And we know who you guys are, too," Ed announced, his words causing Dean to come to a halt.

The Winchesters, once again, shared a sharp look.

"Oh, yeah?" Sam asked with a deep frown.

"Amateurs," Ed said pointedly. For what felt like the hundredth time, Dean rolled his eyes and went back to looking around. "Amateurs looking for ghosts and cheap thrills."

"Yep, so, if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here," Harry said, glancing at them expectantly.

Sam and Dean shared a look. If Cordelia were here, she'd laugh in their faces.

"Yeah? What do you got so far?" Dean feigned interest.

"Har, why don't you tell 'em about EMF?" Ed spoke up, voice condescending.

Harry only scoffed in reply, but Sam, much like his brother, played dumb, trying not to smile. "EMF?" Sam asked, confusion painted across his delicate features.

"Electromagnetic field," Harry said slowly, as though he was talking to a child. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here." He pulled out his EMF and showed the device to Sam. "Whoa, whoa. It's two-point-eight mg."

"Two-point-eight, it's hot in here," Ed whistled with a smirk.

"Wow," Sam pulled a face in mock impress.

"So have you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or..." Dean trailed off, trying desperately to hide his smile.

"Once," Ed turned to face the oldest Winchester, he lowered his voice. "We were, uh, investigating this old house, and we saw a vase fall right off the table."

"By itself," Harry continued, he, too, lowered his voice ⸻ Sam figured they were trying to build suspense and the thought made him laugh, but he quickly covered it up with a cough.

"Well, we- we didn't actually-" Ed's voice returned to normal and he frowned as he stumbled on his words. "We didn't actually see it, but we, uh, we heard it."

Dean pursed his lips and shook his head.

"And something like that, it, it changes you."

"Yeah, I think I get the picture," Dean nodded mockingly. "We should go, let them get back to work."

"Yeah, yeah you should," Harry nodded as he turned his camera back on, watching as Sam and Dean began to leave.

"Yeah, work." A high pitched giggle left Ed's mouth as he flicked his flash-light back on. He blinked ferociously at the noise that had left his mouth and turned to Harry with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, that pot we smoked gave me the giggles."

♰

Cordelia gave Sam a look of disbelief as she followed him out of the library. She and the youngest Winchester had gone to do some research whilst Dean followed other leads.

While they did do research, Sam did favour a certain subject over the topic at hand.

Talking about Cordelia and Dean.

She regretted telling him how she felt about his brother. If she knew he would talk about it twenty-four-seven, she wouldn't have bothered saying anything.

"Talk to him. I think he feels the same," Sam said as they walked down the stairs, he gave a brief smile towards the receptionist in passing. "He pushed you away because he probably thinks you're too good for him, I don't know... just talk to him. He feels the same, trust me, I know my brother."

Cordelia eyed her best friend suspiciously, "Why are you saying that? You didn't say anything did you?"

"What? No, I wouldn't," he assured her, though he was lying. He swallowed roughly at her narrowed eyes, scared she'd be able to see right through him.

"You better not," Cordelia grumbled as she pushed the library doors open, venturing down the steps as Dean waited on the sidewalk.

"Hey," Sam greeted his brother.

"Hey. What you got?"

"Well, we couldn't find a Mordechai but Cordelia did find a Martin Murdock who lived in that house in the thirties," Sam began to explain.

"He had two boys, nothing about six girls and there was no evidence he ever killed anybody," Cordelia told Dean with a deflated sigh. "What about you?"

"Oh, well, those kids didn't really give a clear description of that dead girl, but I did hit up the police station," he began to tell them as they approached the Impala. "No matching missing persons ⸻ it's like she never existed. Dude, c'mon man, we did our digging, this one's a bust. For all we know, those hellhound boys made up the whole thing."

Sam thought for a moment before exhaling deeply and nodding his head, "Yeah, alright."

"I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals," Dean said as he pulled the car door open.

"As long as we stop by the motel first, Sam spilt his fancy little coffee on me and it looks like I've ran a marathon and the sweat is coming out of my boobs," Cordelia grumbled, wrapping her jacket tighter around her body ⸻ covering her t-shirt.

"You walked into me, Cordy," Sam reminded with an eccentric eye-roll. "And you don't need to change, just cover it."

Cordelia shot Sam a glare at his words. "I smell like coffee, and you got it in my hair, Sam, of course I have to change! I'm not walking around with crunchy hair."

"I'm sorry... uh, crunchy hair? Your hair's fine," Dean stumbled out, a confused frown on his face ⸻ some of the stuff Cordelia said endlessly confused him.

Like when she said, she couldn't wear a certain outfit if her hair didn't look a certain way. How she couldn't have a good day if she had a bad makeup day, hell, she once told him if she won a million dollars on a bad makeup day; she'd still somehow be in a terrible mood.

He didn't get it, he thought it ridiculous, but he oddly found it... intriguing. It may sound stupid, it was small things, barely anything, really, but he liked knowing the simple stuff about her, he supposed. In light of everything, all the bad, she still was still herself. Now don't tell anyone he said that, he'd die before anyone found out just how much of a soppy bastard he could be.

Dean was snapped out of his daze by Cordelia's irritated voice, mid rant. He wasn't really listening, he just watched her throw her hands around in exasperation as she spoke, face pulling into an annoyed expression.

He held his hands up silent surrender before climbing into the front seat of Baby. As Cordelia, with grumbled complaints under her breath, moved to take a seat in the back, Sam grabbed her arm stopping her in place.

She looked back at him in confusion, but the Winchester merely gave a cheeky, sly smile in response. Mischief glimmered in his eyes as he leant down by the passenger side window, watching as his brother turned the key in the ignition.

Suddenly, loud, Latin pop music blared from the speakers. "Oh, shit-!" Dean jumped in surprise, quickly moving to turn it off, but, instead, the wipers flicked on. "What the..." In a quick attempt to shut it down, he turned the key in the ignition.

Sam and Cordelia were beside themselves in laughter as they climbed into the car. Dean glared over at Sam as he licked his finger before he marked an imaginary 'one' in the air and pointed at himself.

"That's all you got?" Dean shot over at his younger brother, sending him a dirty look. "Weak. That is bush league."

But Sam's wide smile didn't falter.

"You looked like you were gonna have a heart attack, Dean," Cordelia countered from the backseat as she leant forward, head sticking between the Winchesters.

"Why don't you worry about your coffee hair, huh, Cordelia?"

♰

richardson, texas — june 9th, 2006
the hell house

Cordelia was in the worst mood.

Yesterday, when they headed to the bar, Cordelia had quickly ran in to wash her hair and change her top whilst Sam and Dean impatiently sat waiting for her.

Though, as she ran a towel through her hair, she failed to hear their amused chuckles as she reached for her hairdryer.

They had put flour in her hairdryer.

When she blinked, white fluttered down from her eyelashes. She felt like somebody had dipped her in a bag of cocaine. After that, she stormed into the room and glared at the Winchesters, who found it rather funny.

They didn't find at as funny that next morning, however.

"I've got a damn bruise from when you threw that hairbrush at me," Dean grumbled under his breath as he rubbed at his arm.

"Me too," Sam muttered, he, too, rubbed at his arm ⸻ grimacing at the touch.

"Be grateful that's all I did to you," Cordelia shot back, glancing behind her to face the Winchesters. "You owe me a new hairdryer."

"Sam's idea, not mine," Dean shrugged and pointed towards his younger brother who gave him a dry look of irritation.

"You- seriously? You're blamin' me?"

"Can you two shut your mouths for one freakin' second?" Cordelia snapped, voice lowered as they got closer to the Hell House. Emergency vehicles were parked outside the abandoned building, cops swarmed the area ⸻ some talking to the public, others stood watch outside the building.

The Winchesters shared a look and Dean childishly mimicked her words under his breath when she turned away from them and headed toward one of the civilians that were stood outside.

"What happened?" She asked the man.

"Couple of cops say that poor girl hung herself in the house."

"Suicide?" Sam questioned with a frown as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah. She was a straight-A student with a full ride to U.T. too. It just don't make sense."

Cordelia smiled over at the man in gratitude, watching as he walked away before she turned to the others. "What do you think?" She asked, eyeing the covered stretcher that was being carried over to the medical examiners van.

"I think maybe we missed somethin'."

♰

    So, later that night, when the sun had finally laid to rest, the three ventured back over to the Hell House ⸻ currently crouching down behind the bushes, keeping them hidden from the police car that sat outside the abandoned building and the two cops who stood idly by.

"I guess the cops don't want anyone else screwing around in there," Sam voiced, taking a cautious glance through the bushes to get a better look.

"Yeah, but we still gotta get in there," Dean sighed in irritation, looking around as he tried to formulate a plan of some sort ⸻ a way in. He took a brief glance over at Cordelia and frowned as he watched her load her gun with salt rounds. "What are you doin'?"

"Well, this is a gun and inside of it are what we call bullets," she explained slowly, as though she was talking to a child.

Dean rolled his eyes at the tone of her quip, "I thought you were stayin' out here. We agreed you'd stay out here."

"You said I'd stay out here, I never agreed to anything," she corrected, voice hushed as she placed the gun in Sam's duffle ⸻  which was carelessly slumped against the ground. "You know I can take care of myself, right?"

"I know," Dean grumbled.

"Then stop telling me what to do."

Dean turned to face Sam in disbelief before he looked back over at her. "I- you... I don't tell you-" he cut his rambling off as he heard a twig snap in the distance, his head whirled around in direction of the noise and his mouth dropped open. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Cordelia asked in confusion, getting a look at what had captured his attention. Two boys, holding cameras and all sorts of gadgets approaching, hunched over, whispering and shushing one another.

"Those are the two dumbasses that were hangin' around here earlier," he told her before nudging his brother with his arm, an amused smile slid on his lips. "I got an idea."

He rose to a slight stand and cupped his hand to his mouth.

"Who ya' gonna call?!"

At Dean's sudden yell, Cordelia rolled her lips into her mouth to supress a laugh. Of all ideas, and of all the things he could've said, he settled on that.

"Hey! You!" One of the cops called out towards Ed and Harry, their attention flitted to the two boys, who began running away from the cops. "Freeze! Get back here!"

As the cops chased the two dumbasses, as Dean had called them, the trio took it as an opportunity to head towards the Hell House ⸻ keeping their bodies low, and their steps quiet.

Once the three had made it inside, Sam dropped his duffle to the ground and handed them each a rifle. Cordelia leant against the, now, closed door as she turned her flashlight on.

"Well this place is creepy as fuck," Cordelia muttered under her breath, glancing around ⸻ eyes flitting from the symbols on the wall to the old, rotting furniture.

"You scared? Need me to hold your hand?" Dean smirked, nudging her teasingly with his shoulder.

She gave him a flat look in response, "I think I'll manage, Dean, thanks."

The Winchester shrugged and wiggled his eyebrows at her before following after Sam, but he suddenly stopped, snatching the flashlight out of Cordelia's grip, he shone the light over a symbol on the wall.

Cordelia grumbled curses under her breath at the action, but shut her mouth when Dean spoke up. "Where have I seen that symbol before? It's killin' me."

"Come on, we don't have much time," Sam brushed his brother's words off, gesturing for him to follow after him.

Cordelia eyed the symbol on the wall one last time before she trailed behind them. They headed down to the basement and looked around.

Cordelia grimaced as she strayed away from the Winchesters, her eyes settled on a series of unknown jarred substances.

"Cordy, don't go too far, this thing goes after girls, remember?" Sam pointed out from the other side of the room, gun aimed cautiously in front of him.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut the fuck up," she goaded with an eyeroll, causing the youngest Winchester to replicate that action. "You two are worse than Lee."

Both brothers ignored her grumbled words and continued to look around. Dean, however, stopped what he was doing once his eyes caught sight of the jars. He picked one up to get a closer look and a pale red, suspicious looking, liquid sloshed around inside the glass.

A mischievous smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, I dare you both to take a swig of this," his grin was wide, childish.

"The hell would I do that for?" Sam stared at the back of Dean's head with a wry expression painted across his face.

Dean was silent for a moment, only smirking to himself before he turned to his brother. "I double dare you." When Sam turned away with a shake of his head, Dean diverted his grin towards the brunette girl. "What about you, sweetheart? C'mon, take a swig, I'll give you five bucks."

"I will if you will," she proposed, raising her eyebrows expectantly. Dean's face faltered slightly, his grin slipped from his lips and his eyes narrowed. "You're miserable, I'm miserable. You drink, I drink," she countered, repeating his words from earlier on.

"Yeah, uh, no-" before Dean could finish his rambled decline, a loud noise had the three whirling around, the Winchester placed the glass jar back down on the shelf and moved towards the large, wooden cabinet, Cordelia and Sam followed in toll, guns raised.

Sam slowly inched towards the handle and looked over at his brother, at Dean's nod, the brunet pulled open the door and a sudden squeak was heard as three rats scrambled out of the cabinet.

Cordelia screeched as one of them ran over her shoe, she jumped back, behind Dean, and shoved him in front of her ⸻ as though that would protect her from the rodents.

"Seriously?" Sam gave her an amused look, he shook his head with a sideways smirk on his lips.

"Yes, seriously, they're gross," she mumbled lowly under her breath, taking a cautious look around.

"You'd rather it was a ghost?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Dean answered almost immediately with a shudder. "I hate rats."

"He gets it," Cordelia pointed over at Dean as she ran a hand through her hair, heat beating faster than it probably should've been, but who could blame her? Any form of insects and rodents scared the crap out of her.

She'd rather deal with she who shall not be named again, then rats.

"Yeah, I get it," Dean slapped a hand on the girl's shoulder with a sharp nod as he, too, caught his breath. Just as he went to get a look at the Moore, his eyes caught sight of the tall figure behind her.

Mordechai appeared behind the brunette, axe raised above her head. Sam and Dean acted quick. The latter grabbed a hold of the Moore's arm and dragged her into him, whilst the former raised his gun and shot twice, salt rounds penetrated Mordechai's body, but, alas, he was still there.

Cordelia's eyes widened in shock, but nonetheless, she rose her gun and shot at him a couple times before he turned to a black mist.

"Why the fuck is he immune to rock salt?" Cordelia shouted, cautiously looking around.

"I don't know," Dean vigorously shook his head before turning to the stairs, leading back up to the house, "Come on! Come on! Come on!"

As they ran towards the stairs, Mordechai appeared and smashed his axe down, catching the shelves, bringing the jars crashing down on Dean.

Glass shattered around and on the Winchester, the dirty blond held a hand up to shield his face as Mordechai rose his axe once again in attempt to hit Cordelia.

The Moore girl lifted her rifle, and swung it towards the axe, temporarily knocking the spirit off balance.

"Move your asses! Go!" She called out, ushering the boys up the stairs, quick feet following after them.

Sam and Dean reached the door first, using their bodies to burst through it. They fell through the emergency tape and rolled down the steps, Cordelia running after them.

Ed and Harry, who had now lost the cops, stood just before the porch, eyes wide and mouths dropped open in shock.

"Get that damn thing outta my face!" Dean called out, shoving away the camera in Harry's hands.

"Go, go, go!"

"I told you assholes I could protect myself!"

♰

richardson, texas — june 10th, 2006
wyeth's western inn

    The next afternoon, back at the motel, Sam sat by the table, doing research ⸻ Cordelia on one bed, Dean on another, a small notepad in hand as he scribbled down that symbol from the Hell House.

The brunette lazily lounged on the sheets as she held her phone in hand. After getting easily bored with the piles and piles of research beside her, she couldn't help but pick her phone up and message her Uncle Lee.

Annoying him was much more entertaining than doing research. Besides, her not doing anything also annoyed Sam ⸻ it was a win-win.

"Are you actually gonna do anything, Cor?" Sam spoke up from his place at the table, he spun his body around in his chair ⸻ sending his best friend a pointed look, which swiftly slipped into an amused smirk. "Or are you plannin' more shitty pranks?"

"I-" Cordelia's mouth dropped open in offence, she put her phone down on the bed and leant forward. "Shitty? It-"

"It was pretty shitty, Cordelia," Dean chimed from the other bed, not lifting his eyes from his sketch.

"You cut holes in our t-shirts, that's bush league," Sam told her pointedly, averting his gaze back down to the pile of parchment in front of him.

"In the nipple areas," she defended as though that would make it any better, but they were right, and she knew they were right ⸻ it was a crappy prank.

"O-kay," Sam huffed, holding his hands up in mocking surrender.

"Just..." she trailed off with narrowed eyes aimed at Sam before she pointed over towards Dean. "What's going on with you and this symbol?" She asked, hoping to change the topic.

"Fuck if I know," Dean grumbled. "It's buggin' the hell outta me. This whole damn job's buggin' me. I thought the legend said that Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"It does," Sam replied, he picked up his father's journal and flickered through the pages, brows furrowed in concentration.

"Right. Well, I mean, that explains why he went after you two, but why me?" Dean lifted a hand, finger tips scratching across his jaw.

"Hilarious," Sam called out dryly with an eye-roll. "Legend also says he hung himself, but you see those slit wrists?"

"Yeah, and the axe too, I mean, it's like he went off script," Cordelia chimed in, getting off of the bed she made her way over to the table, joining Sam.

She, however, failed to notice Dean's eyes on her ass as she walked by.

"Exactly, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over," Sam nodded over at her in agreement.

"But this mook keeps changing," Dean sighed in thought.

"Exactly," Sam voiced, words followed along with a disgruntled groan as Cordelia snatched his laptop from his grasp. She spun it around and took the seat opposite him, typing away. "You know, you could always just ask?"

Her eyes flickered up to meet his and she gave him a look, "You'd say no."

"Yeah, but I'd say no with the incentive that you asked nicely," he taunted.

"You're such a whiney little bitch somet- oh, hey, look at this," her eyes fell back onto the laptop screen, she spun the device around, far enough so that both she and Sam could read it. "Someone added a post to the Hell Hound website. Says that Mordechai was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

"What the hell is going on?" Sam asked, confusion clear on his features. "Where is this going?"

"I don't know, but I think I might have just figured out where it all started," Dean sat up all of a sudden, realisation dawned on his face as he stared down at the symbol.

♰

   In the car, Dean had told the pair of his theory, which led them back to the music shop, in search of Craig Thurston.

The bell chimed above their heads as they walked in, alerting Craig of their presence. The young boy sat behind the counter, a look of distress on his features as he rubbed a hand down his face in exasperation.

"Hey, Craig, remember us?" Dean called out to the young boy, a sly smile on his lips.

Craig rolled his neck in irritation, "Guys, look, I'm really not in the mood to answer any more of your questions, okay?"

"Oh, don't worry," Dean assured him, fake smile pulling at his mouth. "We're just here to buy an album, that's all."

As Dean shuffled through the albums, searching for a specific one, Cordelia narrowed her eyes at the shelf.

"You think they've got any Britney?" She asked, leaning forward to flicker through them.

Dean opened and closed his mouth before his face fell into a deadpan, "Britney? Really?"

"I like her," Cordelia's voice was quiet as she shrugged, a frown pulled at her face before a bright smile formed as she picked up something that caught her eye. It was a Britney CD. "How much is-?" She began to call out to Craig, but before he could answer, Dean snatched it out of her hand and put it back with a shake of his head.

"I thought you were better than that," he scolded, disappointment covering his face. Cordelia rolled her eyes at his dramatics and followed after him as he slowly trailed over to Craig, the album he was looking for, in hand.

"But Me Against the Music..." Cordelia trailed off, a deflated frown on her face. It was her favourite song.

"You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realised that it doesn't mean anything," Dean spoke loudly as they approached the counter. "It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult."

Craig visibly froze at Dean's words.

"Tell me, Craig, you into B.O.C. or just scaring the hell outta people?" Dean's smile fell flat and he stared down at Craig with a glower.

Craig took the album from Dean's hand and placed it behind the counter, a look of shame spread across his face.

"Now, why don't you tell us about that house... without lying through your ass this time."

The boy sighed and after a moment of internal contemplation, he spoke. "Alright, uh, my cousin Dana was on break from TCU. I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do, so I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it'd be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls, some from some albums, some from Dana's theology textbooks.

"Then we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so we... we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told other people and then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean, I... I thought it was funny at first, but... now that girl's dead. It was just a joke, you know?" Craig swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked away the unshed tears ⸻ regret shone in his eyes. "None of it was real, we made the whole thing up. I swear."

"Alright," Sam breathed out, voice soft.

The three shared a look before turning without another word said to the younger boy, as they began to leave, Dean spoke up.

"If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?"

♰

richardson, texas — june 11th, 2006
wyeth's western inn

    Whilst Sam was in the shower, Cordelia took the opportunity to check the scars on her back, she figured she had plenty of time seeing as Sam took a rather long time washing his hair.

Though, she couldn't blame him ⸻ his hair really was gorgeous.

Dean, who had nipped out, soon came back to the motel room. Opening the door, he was welcomed to the sight of Cordelia stood in front of the rather small mirror, one hand holding the back of her top up, the other hand trying to peel back the dressing.

"You tryna' break your back or something?" He joked, eyeing her odd positioning.

"Funny," Cordelia grumbled, shooting him an impatient look before she moved her hands with a sigh of irritation, allowing her top to drop. "I was trying to change the dressing."

"You already done the others?" He asked, shrugging his jacket off, he carelessly threw it onto the bed before rolling the sleeves of his navy flannel to his elbows.

"Yeah, my arm looks like I put it through a fuckin' shredder," she griped, a frown settling on her face. "I just can't reach my back, Carter usually..."

Dean didn't bother to hide the grimace that pulled at his face. Carter did it for her. I mean, he supposed it made sense ⸻ Carter and Cordelia had slept together before, he'd seen her unclothed.

That didn't stop the bubbling pit of jealously that formed in Dean's gut, however.

"I could... do it- check it for you," he said, clearing his throat loudly. Cordelia rose an eyebrow at his demeanour. He seemed nervous. Dean Winchester, the man who flirted his way through life was suddenly so awkward.

"Would you mind?" She asked, head tilted in question, a small smile sat on her lips.

He didn't say anything, but the step he took towards her, answered her question. She turned back to face forward and twisted her arms, lifting the back of her top up. "It, uh, it'd probably be easier if you just," he cleared his throat, eyes focused on the wall, "took it off."

"Yeah?" Cordelia asked quietly, suddenly thankful that she was facing the wall because the smile that pulled at her lips was almost sinister.

She didn't think there'd be a scenario where Dean Winchester was nervous and she wasn't.

Without another word, she lifted her t-shirt over her head and, even though Dean was behind her and couldn't see, she still lifted her hands to cover her cleavage.

Dean harshly sucked air in through his teeth before he shook his head. He needed to concentrate. Once again, he cleared his throat before moving off to grab the medical box, Cordelia took the opportunity to sit down on the bed, still managing to keep her back facing Dean.

As Dean returned, he dropped the stuff onto the bed and hesitated. "You mind?" He asked, talking about the bra that still sat on her back.

Cordelia looked up at the ceiling and bit back a smile. "Didn't think you'd be this hesitant about taking a girl's bra off," she teased, angling her head to face him ⸻ he rolled his eyes at the teasing smile on her plump lips.

"I was trying to be a gentleman," he scoffed under his breath.

Cordelia opened her mouth to say something, but no words seemed to slip from her tongue as she felt Dean's fingers graze across her skin.

The touch so delicate she might not have even noticed. But, fortunately, she did. Her breath hitched and she couldn't even bring herself to make a sly comment about the fact he did it one handed.

She crossed her arms over her chest tightly, securing the hold on the front of the bra ⸻ ensuring it clung to her chest, whilst Dean's rough fingertips moved over to the bandage, gently peeling it back.

He didn't say anything, but his silence said a thousand words.

"It looks like I've been thrown in a blender, doesn't it?" Cordelia asked, pursing her lips ⸻ trying not to come across as hesitant as she felt.

But it was a big scar, it was ugly. The one on her arm had healed nicely, as well as the stab wound, but her leg and her back? Not attractive in the least.

"Nah, it looks badass."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes in disbelief, "Mhm."

"I'm serious," he told her, reaching for the medical equipment before he started to clean the wound. "We all have scars, think of it like... battle scars. You're alive. Plus, it's, I don't know... kinda hot."

"You know how to make a girl feel better about herself," she teased lightly, and Dean smiled, the mere tone of her voice telling him that she cracked a smile, even if it was a little one.

"I try," he joked, moving to finish up on her back. "How's your leg doin'? Hurt when you walk on it?"

"You've asked me that like fifty times in the past two weeks, and my answer's still the same, I can walk just fine, Dean."

"Yeah, well, you have a habit of sayin' you're fine when you're not," he quipped back, raising his eyebrows at her, even though she could not see it.

"Like you can talk," she shot back, angling her head to face him she returned that same look. Looking away, she reached around and hooked her bra back on ⸻ coming to a stand, she reached for her top.

Over the past eight months, Cordelia had formed... close relationships with the Winchesters. Living in such close quarters caused such a thing, so seeing her in a bra wasn't not normal.

They stitched each other up, sometimes they had to see it. Though, she thought it a bit odd her cousin's ex-boyfriend seeing her in a bra, so she opted getting Dean or Carter to stitch those wounds up for her.

It didn't stop Sam from being exposed to other things though. He had walked in on her in the bathroom countless times, sometimes he even accidentally walked in whilst she was hooking up with a random guy from a bar.

That poor boy was probably traumatised by now.

"How long's he been in there?" Dean asked as he made his way over to the bed, picking up his jacket he ruffled around in his pocket before pulling something out ⸻ he turned to face the Moore in question.

Though as his eyes landed on her, he faltered for a short moment. As stated, it wasn't unusual for Dean to see Cordelia like this, but now, there were feelings involved, feelings that he wanted to bury deep inside, but with every laugh, every glance, every word, she made it harder on him.

He pulled his eyes away from her chest as she pulled her top down and he cleared his throat loudly.

"Uh, about ten minutes," Cordelia answered his earlier question, eyes narrowing on the item in the dirty blond's hand.

Dean grinned at her words and threw his jacket back down onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly, keeping her voice low as she made her way over to him.

He wiggled a small packet of itching powder between his fingers in amusement. "Gimme' his top," he whispered over at her.

Cordelia debated it for a moment before a grin slipped onto her lips and she did as told.

"You're a terrible influence," she whispered back over at him as she handed him the shirt, but the grin on her face was bright.

"I'm a bad influence? You were the one who put dog food in his duffle, not me," he pointed out, shooting her a large smile as he shook the contents of the packet on Sam's clothes. His t-shirt, his jeans, his underwear, his shoes.

"Because you were too pussy to do it," she shot back, taking the packet out of his hand she reached for the pair of socks Sam had laid out next to his clothes.

"I-" he stopped himself and rolled his lips into his mouth, giving her a look of offence before he snatched back the packet of itching powder.

Before he could retort something, or come to his defence, Sam's loud voice sounded out from the bathroom. "Cor, is Dean back yet?!"

"Yeah!"

"Hey, so I think I might have a theory about what's going on," Sam called out from the bathroom, a slamming of a cabinet door soon followed after.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean asked, but his interest swayed as he began sprinkling the powder on the youngest Winchester's bed.

"Stop it now," Cordelia told him, moving to reach for the packet, but she couldn't stop the quiet laugh that fell from her lips as he pulled away and began sprinkling the powder on all of his brother's belongings.

They were like a pair of giggling children.

"Yeah. What if Mordechai is a Tulpa?"

"Tulpa?" Dean frowned at his brother's words.

"Yeah-" Sam began to say when he swung the door open, Dean spun around hastily and shoved the packet into his jacket whilst Cordelia just smiled at her friend. "-A Tibetan thought form."

"Ah, yeah, I, I know what a Tulpa is," Dean pointed out sheepishly and Cordelia rolled her eyes ⸻ to say that one of the main parts of their job was to play it cool, Dean was totally the opposite. "Hey, why don't you get dressed, we'll go grab somethin' to eat."

Without letting Sam say another word, Dean headed towards the bathroom, presumably to get rid of any evidence of his latest little prank.

"I'll go..." Cordelia pursed her lips, pulling her eyes away from Sam's half naked form as he stood staring at her with expectant raised eyebrows. "Walk around or something."

♰

    Cordelia bit her lip in attempt to hide the laugh that so desperately wanted to boom out of her chest as she watched Sam fidget with the material of his jeans.

The Moore girl and Dean shared an amused look as the latter handed her a cup of coffee. "Dude, what's your problem?" Dean asked his brother, hiding a smirk.

"Yeah, you're being real fidgety," Cordelia added as they headed over to a small, round table in the corner.

"Nothin', I'm fine," Sam brushed it off with a small shake of his head ⸻ but still continued to pull at his jeans.

"Yeah? Alright, so keep goin'. What about these Tulpas?"

"Okay, so, there was this incident in Tibet in nineteen-fifteen," Sam began to say as they took each took a seat. "A group of Monks visualise a golem in their heads, they meditate on it so hard, they bring the thing to life, outta thin air."

"So?" Dean frowned as he lifted the cup  of coffee to his lips.

"So, if that was just a small group, imagine what thousands of people could do," Cordelia began to say, catching onto what Sam was trying to tell them. "Craig started that story on Mordechai, it spreads, goes online ⸻ now a shit ton of people believe in the bastard."

"Exactly," Sam nodded over at her in agreement, lifting a hand to itch at the skin of his arm.

"Okay, wait a second ⸻ you're tryna'  tell me just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?" Dean looked between the two in confusion.

"I don't know, maybe," Sam shrugged, an uncomfortable expression painted across his face as he set his laptop up on the table.

Cordelia pursed her lips to hide her smile.

"People believe in Santa Claus," Dean pointed out, a deep frown sat on his face. "How come I'm not gettin' hooked up every Christmas?"

"'Cause you're a bad person," Sam shot back with no hesitation, Dean only rose his eyebrows in agreement after a moment of contemplation. "And 'cause of this," the youngest Winchester spun his laptop around, "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil on the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet ya' they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now, that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the hellhound's website, staring at the symbol thinking about Mordechai. I mean, I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life."

"It would explain why it keeps changin'," Dean shrugged in contemplation, discreetly moving his hand under the table to pat Cordelia on the thigh, gaining her attention.

She frowned and looked over at him, but he slyly nodded over towards Sam, who had began itching the back of his neck incessantly before itching his arm again with an obvious grimace.

"Right," Sam cleared his throat. "As the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah, 'cause he's not a traditional spirit per se."

"Yeah," Sam replied, still fidgeting.

"Okay, so why don't we just get the spirit-sigil thingy off the wall and off the website?" Dean asked, looking over toward his brother in confusion.

"No, it doesn't work like that," Cordelia shook her head as she lifted her coffee to her lips, taking a sip, she paused before continuing," I swear these things take a life of their own, it's not that simple."

"Great," Dean grunted sarcastically, running a hand over his jaw tiredly. "Alright, so if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?"

"Use your imagination?" Cordelia joked badly, earning a dry look from both brothers.

"Well, it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us," Sam sighed, Dean groaned at the mere mention of the boys ⸻  they were like flies, you just couldn't get rid of them, no matter how hard you tried. Sam turned the laptop back to face himself before he began typing. "Check out their home page."

He showed the pair a video of the two boys at the Hell House ⸻ exclusive footage as they had titled it.

"Since they posted the video, the number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

Dean sighed and thought for a moment before grabbing his paper cup of coffee and rising from his seat, "Come on, I've got an idea."

"Where are we going?" Cordelia asked, copying his actions.

"Need to find a copy store." Was all he said in reply.

Sam hastily began packing his laptop up, a hmph leaving his lips as he did so. "Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or somethin'."

The laugh that reverberated from Dean caused Sam to snap his head in his brothers direction.

"You did this?" Sam called out towards his brother who began to walk away, a large smile on the older boy's face.

Dean only laughed in answer to Sam's question.

"You're a fuckin' jerk," Sam called out, but Dean was already halfway across the diner.

The youngest Winchester looked between his brother's distant figure and the table as he clumsily grabbed his laptop.

Cordelia couldn't help the loud laugh that fell from her lips as her best friend knocked into the chair and then the table.

He was a big, tall, fumbling idiot.

♰

    "Thirty bucks, Cor, that's more than enough," Dean stressed as the three made their way over to a trailer where Ed and Harry were.

"Fifty," she shot back, giving him a look. "You said these guys are idiots, my price for flirting with idiots is fifty bucks."

Dean thought for a moment before rolling his eyes, "Fine."

"And I want to pick one song in the car," she continued. Dean looked over at her in disbelief before glancing at Sam, and eventually looking back towards her.

"Ha! Forget about it," he told her.

"Then get your gay on Dean, I ain't doing it," she shrugged, the Winchester gave her an unamused look before a defeated sigh left his mouth and he shoved his hand in his pocket, soon pulling out the cash.

"One song," he told her sternly before handing the money over.

"One song," she agreed with a smile of accomplishment on her face as she tugged down her shirt for further affect ⸻  she found showing a little skin helped, well, she said a little, but there wasn't a day that didn't go by where Cordelia wasn't showing a little skin.

Sam, however, stood in shock. He was lucky if he got pick of the music, all Cordelia had to do was bat her eyelashes at Dean and he would fold.

As Cordelia trudged over to the trailer, Sam and Dean followed behind. The youngest Winchester rolled his eyes as he noticed his brother's eyes trained on his best friend's ass.

"You're not very subtle," Sam taunted in a whisper.

"I will knock your ass out," Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother, who merely smirked in reply.

Dean lent forward and harshly knocked on the trailer door, irritation burning within him at his brother's words.

Though, in all fairness, he wasn't subtle, but neither was she, she'd seen him checking her out, he'd seen her checking him out, but they both pushed it aside.

Cordelia mainly because she didn't want a repeat of last time ⸻ she didn't want something to happen again only for him to push her away, and Dean didn't want to hurt her.

"Come on out here, guys! We hear you in there!" Dean called out loudly. After a long second, the door swung open and two heads popped out, messy hair and clumsily tipped glasses stared back over at them. "Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging ⸻ what a shock."

"Guys, we need to talk," Sam stated sternly, moving to open his mouth again when Ed interrupted.

"Now, who is this?" He stumbled down the small step of the trailer, and instead of laughing in his face ( like she would've done if fifty bucks wasn't on the line ) Cordelia opted for smiling sweetly over at the boy.

"Cordelia," she told him, giving him that same smile. Her hand trailed slowly across her chest as she reached for her necklace, twirling the jewellery between her fingers, successfully dragging his ( as well as Dean's ) eyes to her cleavage.

Sam slapped his brother upside the head.

"Where have they been hiding you?" Harry smirked as he, too, stumbled down the steps.

Cordelia had to bite her tongue to stop herself from rolling her eyes, did these boys have no sense of direction between them?

She let out a small, breathless chuckle at his words. "We just wanted to stop by, ask a favour," she told them, taking a step toward Ed ⸻ who she had guessed was the leader in this little duo. She placed her hand on his arm and his eyes went wide and his breath hitched. She guessed it was the first time he'd ever been touched by a woman. "Wow, I'm sorry, it's just... your eyes," she slowly dragged her hand down his arm. "They're really nice."

"I, uh, yes, um, what? Oh, thank you... thanks," he stammered, swallowing roughly at her eye contact ⸻ he didn't think a girl had held his eyes for this long.

"We'll make it quick, we need you to shut down your website," Dean told the boys sternly, looking between them ⸻ but neither of them looked away from Cordelia.

Ed let out a sarcastic laugh as he realised what Dean had said, he looked at Harry and the pair shared a look. "Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell..."

"I had to pee in that cell urinal, in front of people," he enunciated, giving the brothers a pointed look, "And I get stage fright."

"Oh, I bet you do," Cordelia muttered to herself, under her breath.

"Why should we trust you guys?" Ed asked, glancing between them with narrowed eyes.

"Look, we all know what we saw last night, what's in the house, but now, thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearin' about Mordechai," Sam told them bluntly, giving them a stare that was hard enough to cause them to take a step back.

"Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, runnin' into him," Dean told them, a hard expression on his face. "Someone could get hurt."

"Ed, maybe he's got a point," Harry turned to face his friend, but the other boy merely rolled his eyes.

"No, no," Ed shook his head.

"Nope," Harry repeated.

"We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth," Ed began, and Dean let out a sarcastic laugh, but the boy merely ignored him and looked toward Cordelia. "And look, you're hot and everything, and those are," he gestured toward her chest, "Amazing, but no."

"I have an obligation to kick both of your little assess right-"

"Dean," Sam interrupted his brother's threats by placing a hand on his shoulder, whilst Cordelia did nothing to hide her amusement. "Hey, hey. Just forget it, alright? These guy ⸻ you could probably bitch-slap them both-"

"He, he couldn't," Harry defended under his breath.

"I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai," Sam continued, catching their full attention. "But... they're still not gonna help us. So let's just go."

"Oh, woah, woah, hey," the pair called out as Sam, Dean and Cordelia began to walk away, the three shared a look.

"What did you say about?..." Harry stumbled out as he and Ed clumsily trailed after the three.

"Hang on a second, here."

"Wha- what thing about Mordecahi, guys?"

"Don't tell 'em, Sam," Dean pleaded, though a small smile pulled at his lips ⸻ he was lucky that the two dumbasses couldn't see him, otherwise he'd give himself away.

"But if they agree to shut down the website, Dean, I mean, they sound like pretty decent guys," Cordelia played along, hastily following after the Winchesters ⸻ coaxing Ed and Harry to do the same.

"They're not gonna do it, Sam said so himself," Dean waved a dramatic hand, shaking his head as he did so.

In another life, these three could've been actors.

"No, wait, wait. Don't listen to him, okay?" Ed pleaded, words directed towards Cordelia. "We'll do it. We'll do it."

With a eccentric sigh, the three stopped in front of the Impala and shared a look.

"It's a secret, guys," Dean argued.

Sam glanced at his brother and after a moment, back over toward the two boys. "Look, it is a pretty big deal, alright?" Sam began to say and Dean turned around in false exasperation, a hand brushing through his hair to further convince them of his annoyance. "And it wasn't easy to dig up, so only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down."

"Totally," Ed breathed out in agreement.

"Alright," Sam shrugged after a moment of 'contemplation'. Dean reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper, handing it off to the boys. "It's a death certificate from the thirties. We got it at the library, now, according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound."

"Yeah, he didn't hang or cut himself," Cordelia mused.

"He shot himself?" Harry questioned, confusion and suspicion heavily lacing his tone.

"Yeah, with a forty-five pistol. To this day, they say he's terrified of them," Sam continued, a dramatic flair to his voice ⸻ Cordelia took it back, they couldn't have been actors in another life; Sam and Dean were terrible.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a forty-five, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds, you'd kill the son of a bitch," Dean added, eyes shifting tersely between the pair.

Ed and Harry gasped at the 'revelation', the young boys shared a look and bright smiles covered their faces. Without another word, Harry sprinted back toward the trailer, Ed gave a nod at the three and followed slowly, trying to keep the excitement that rushed through his veins at bay.

"Harry," Ed called out, voice lowered. "Slow your roll, buddy. They're gonna know we're excited."

The three hunters watched them in amusement before they headed back over to the Impala. Just as Dean was about to get in, he turned to Cordelia, a judgemental frown etched upon his features.

"I want my fifty bucks back," he told her, crossing his arms over his chest. "I paid you flirt. You call that flirtin'? All you did was," he lifted a hand and wafted it around her chest area. "Flaunt your... your-"

"Tits? Yeah, that's all it usually takes, guys are easy like that," she told him with pursed lips.

"Not all guys-"

"C'mon, Dean," Sam scoffed, giving his brother a look of disbelief before he climbed into the passenger seat.

"Yeah, c'mon, Dean," Cordelia repeated in a teasing tone, following after Sam as she climbed into the back.

"I'm tellin' you, not all guys-"

♰

After an excruciatingly short drive, which consisted of Dean going on a rant about how men, himself specifically, don't fall to women's knees the second they flash a little boob. He then went on to complain about Cordelia's song of choice, stating that it was the first and last time Britney was ever played in his precious Baby.

After that, they finally made it to a small diner. The three sat in a booth, Sam had his laptop in front of him, Cordelia was eating, and Dean was looking around boredly, huffing and puffing every few seconds to let everyone else know that he was bored.

He was only bored because he had finished his food within two seconds of it being placed in front of him ⸻ I mean, he practically inhaled it.

Dean sighed loudly before looking up at the 3D artwork of a fisherman holding a fish, it, unfortunetly, was hung up by their booth.

The Winchester reached up and pulled the cord, the little fisherman's mouth moved up and down and an extremely annoying laugh played.

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the cord to stop it, "If you pull that string one more time, I'm gonna kill you."

Dean, with a deadpanned expression, stared at Sam in the eye before pulling the cord again. Cordelia made a noise of annoyance as she kicked him in the shin, "Stop it."

Sam immediately reached up to grab the cord, once again, stopping it. Dean only laughed in delight at the pairs annoyance.

"Come on, man, you need more laughter in your life, you know? You're way too tense," he insisted before looking over at Cordelia, he shrugged, "I just like annoyin' you."

Sam just simply took a drink out of his beer and slammed it down on the table before giving Dean another dirty look, the oldest Winchester brother sighed dramatically.

"They post it yet?"

Sam merely spun the laptop around so that the other two could see it, and stabbed at his salad angrily.

Cordelia smiled in amusement at his childishness.

Dean read aloud the words on the website, "We have learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms. Alright. How long do we wait?"

Sam shrugged and shut his laptop, "Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall, iron rounds will work on the sucker."

Sam held out his beer to the other two, Dean lifted his own and tapped it against his brother's whilst Cordelia ignored them, continuing to pick at the fries left on her plate.

"Sweet," Dean grinned before taking a long sip.

Cordelia looked up and frowned at the large grin on Sam's face. But when Dean tried to put the bottle down, she nearly choked on a fry from the bubble of laughter that left her mouth.

The bottle was glued to Dean's hand.

She figured he must've done it when Dean had gone to the restroom and Cordelia was at the counter, ordering the food.

What a sneaky bastard.

"You didn't," Dean's mouth fell agape as he held the bottle up, but it remained stuck to his hand.

Sam only laughed louder, holding up a small tube of super glue, "Oh, I did!"

Dean shook his hand, trying to get it off, while Sam, still in stitches, pulled the string and the fisherman's irritating laugh echoed around them.

Dean looked over at Cordelia with narrowed eyes as she laughed and bitterly, he spoke up. "Cordelia put the itching powder in your socks and dog food in your duffle."

Her mouth dropped open in betrayal and she threw a fry at him. "No I didn't," she argued, tearing her gaze away from Sam's raised eyebrows, she looked towards Dean and lowered her voice. "Asshole."

"Yes you did," Sam countered, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. "So, that fifty bucks Dean gave you? I gave it to a kid, told him I'd pay him if he handed your clothes out to goodwill."

"You didn't," her face fell, mouth widening in shock.

"I did," he nodded, a large smile on his lips. "Even that little tracksuit you love so much."

Her eyes widened even bigger and her voice went higher. "Juicy? Oh my God, you... you are," she shook her head and began to climb out of the booth. "You are a horrible, horrible, evil little bastard."

"Hey, you were the one who put dog food in my duffle," Sam shrugged in defence, watching in amusement as she headed toward the door. "Where are you going?!" He called out.

"To rob a charity shop!" She shouted back in answer, earning weird looks from the other people in the diner. "I hope you're happy with yourself, Samuel, I hope you're really freakin' happy!"

The two Winchesters shared a look before laughter boomed from their chests.

♰

Cordelia was not lying when she said she was going to steal from the charity shop, but was it even stealing when it was her stuff?

Probably, but she didn't care. She was just pissed she couldn't get it all back.

After Cordelia had left the diner, the boys had stolen the laughing fisherman ⸻ successfully using it as a distraction to lure the cops away from the Hell House.

They entered the old building, guns drawn and flashlights in hand. Dean shifted his gun in his hand with a grimace.

"I barely have any skin left on my palm," Dean grumbled towards his brother, tone snarky.

Sam scoffed, "I'm not touching that line with a ten foot pole."

Dean shone his light in Sam's face, until the latter winced.

Sam then looked towards Cordelia, eyeing the zip-up hoodie she had on ⸻ he was convinced she'd never take it off again. "You're gonna live in that now, aren't ya?" The amusement in his voice only pissed her off.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, "I had to fight an old lady for my jacket, yeah, Sam, I'm gonna live in it."

"Maybe, don't put dog food in my duffle, then," Sam shot back as they moved into another room.

"Hey, you think old Mordechai's home?" Dean interrupted the bickering as they faced another door, guns raised towards it.

"I don't know," Sam answered, voice lowered.

"Me neither." A voice spoke from somewhere behind the three.

Without a second to waste, the trio spun on their feet, guns pointed towards the familiar voice.

"Whoa! Whoa! Hey, hey, hey, whoa!" Ed and Harry both called out, hands held up in the air, eyes wide as fear struck them. They were dressed in their gear, lights strapped around their heads ⸻ cameras in hand, EMF in another.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and slumped her arms, gun facing the ground. "Are you fuckin' kidding me? What the hell are you two tryna do, get yourself killed?" Cordelia shot over at them, running her tongue along her teeth in annoyance.

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?" Ed defended weakly, but before he could continue to defend their stupid actions, a scraping sound was heard, almost like knives being sharpened.

"Oh, crap," Harry squeaked, eyes widening.

The three hunters spun on their heels, guns pointed toward the door once again ⸻ Ed lifted his camera, and with a shaky voice, he spoke, "Ah, uh, guys, you wanna... you wanna open that door for us?"

"Why don't you quit being a pair of pussies and do it yourself?" Cordelia snapped over at them, keeping her eyes on the door as a loud bang reverberated throughout the small space of the house.

Before anyone could could say anything, Mordechai burst through the door, holding an axe before a loud yell left his mouth. The three hunters didn't hesitate as they emptied their gun chambers.

The three watched as he wavered before disappearing into Mist. They waited for a moment before taking off to ensure the other rooms were clear.

Cordelia ventured off on her own, still hearing Ed and Harry in the background ⸻ she held her breath and her gun up as she carefully walked around.

A crash caused her to whirl around, she ran back into the room where Ed and Harry ( stupidly ) still were. "Did you asswipes not post that story we gave you?!" She called out as she watched the mist of Mordechai disappear once again.

"Of course we did," Ed retorted weakly.

"Yeah, but then our server crashed," Harry shrugged, swallowing roughly under the hard gaze of the brunette.

"So it didn't take," Dean grunted out as he made his way into the room. "So, these guns don't work."

"Um, yeah..." Harry mumbled, nervously nibbling on his lip.

"Great," Dean spoke sarcastically. "Guys, any ideas?"

Cordelia and Sam shrugged ⸻ Dean rolled his eyes, they were not helping.

"We're getting outta here," Harry mumbled, barely hearing his words over the fast beat of his heart as he grabbed Ed by the arm and began to clumsily drag him out of the room.

Though their steps fell short as Mordechai appeared in front of the pair, axe in hand and high pitched screams left their mouths. The two idiots ran through the house until they reached the door, though, to their luck, it wouldn't open.

"Mother Mary and Joseph!" Harry screamed as he and Ed scrambled over to the wall, backs pressed flat against it as Mordechai slowly trailed over to them, an eerie noise leaving his mouth.

"The power of christ compels you," Ed muttered under his breath before repeating it louder, "The power of christ compels you!"

Upon hearing their terrified yells, Cordelia ran throughout the house and turned the corner, eyes falling onto the three. "Hey!" She called out, causing Mordechai to spin on his feet. "Hoooollly shit," Cordelia whistled lowly. "You are a lot uglier up close."

Mordechai didn't waste a second as he swung his axe at her, but the brunette dropped to the floor, dodging the hit just in time causing the head of the axe to hit the wall, getting stuck.

With much effort he pulled it back out and swung it at her once again, her hands grasped at the handle, trying to push him away but Mordechai was much, much stronger, and used her grip on the axe to slam her against the wall.

A groan left her mouth as her back collided with the wall ⸻ her back was still healing and it just occurred to her, perhaps going after this guy on her own wasn't the best idea.

Oh well, she was already committed.

"Get out of here!" She called out to Ed and Harry with struggle, sparing them a short glance before Mordechai pressed the handle of the axe up against her throat.

The pair didn't waste any time before running off.

Just then, Sam and Dean ran around the corner, eyes wide as they set their sights on Cordelia and Mordechai. "Watch out!" Sam called out to Cordelia just as Dean held up a spray bottle and a lighter, a plume of fire soon appeared.

Once again, Mordechai disappeared into mist and Cordelia let out a gasp, hand grabbing at her throat as she tried to control her breathing. She slumped against the wall and after a moment turned to Dean with narrowed eyes.

"You nearly set my freakin' hair on fire," she grumbled, the Winchester merely rolled his eyes as Sam reached down and grabbed her arm, pulling her up.

Cordelia would rather be dead then have no hair ⸻ I mean, she had amazing hair.

Once Sam released her arm, she sluggishly followed after the Winchesters, who were talking amongst themselves.

"If Mordechai can't leave the house and we can't kill him, we improvise," Dean announced, throwing a lighter into the middle of the room, where he had already covered the floor with kerosene.

The boys shared a look before running out of the house, watching it light up in flames. "That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" Sam panted as he caught his breath, but he didn't give Dean a chance to answer as he spoke up again. "Where the hell is Cordelia?" He looked around widely, coaxing Dean to do the same.

"She was right behind me..." Dean trailed off, looking around before his eyes fell on the burning building in front of him. "Cordelia!"

"Cordy!" Sam called out, though they had to keep quiet, due to the fact the cops were still somewhere near.

When their calls went unheard, worry and fear set in and without a second thought, Dean went to run back into the burning building, for her.

A pang of guilt hit her, but she laughed nonetheless as she ran out from behind a tree and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the building. "Wait, wait, wait," she dragged him back, a large smile on her face.

Sam and Dean, however did not find it as funny.

Dean shrugged her arm off of him and glared at her, "Are you serious? Are you fuckin' serious, Cordelia?!"

"I'm sorry," she told him, but a small chuckle left her mouth and both boys rolled their eyes, beginning to walk off. "I told you, I go to big or too small, and okay, I'll admit, maybe this was a bit over the top," she called out to their retreating figures.

"Ya think?!" Dean shot back, sparing her a short glare.

"It was immature and we were worried," Sam grumbled, shaking his head like the disappointed mother he was.

"Next time, I'm leaving your ass to burn," Dean told her, "You're like the girl who cried..." he trailed off, forgetting the end of the sentence.

"Wolf?" Cordelia added amusedly.

♰

Cordelia rolled her eyes and sighed loudly, but still, the boys continued to give her the silent treatment. They were stood by a picnic table near Ed and Harry's trailer, and for the whole car journey, neither boy spoke to her ⸻ they talked to each other, but ignored her.

Childish pricks.

Thankfully, Ed and Harry broke the silence as they approached the trio, grocery bags in hand. "Gentlemen," Ed called out before his eyes fell on Cordelia, and a smirk pulled at his lips. "Lady."

"Hey guys," Sam called out, following after the pair.

"Should we tell them?" Harry asked Ed, a smug look on his face.

"Hey, might as well, you know, they're gonna read about it in the trades," Ed answered.

"So, we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer," Harry told them arrogantly, wide smile on his lips as he glanced back at the three.

"Oh, yeah? Wrong number?" Dean snarked.

"No, smartass, he read all about the Hell House on our website, and wants to option the motion-picture rights," Ed told them as the pair began to place their grocery bags into a very overloaded car. "Maybe even have us write it."

"And create the RPG," Harry added with a shrug, but he had smug written all over his face.

"I'm sorry, RPG?" Cordelia asked with a frown.

"Role-playing game," Harry told her slowly as though he was talking to a child.

"A little lingo for ya," Ed winked over at her and she rolled her lips into her mouth to stop herself from saying something completely bitchy. "Anyhoo, excuse us. We're off to la-la land. Oh, and before I forget," Ed ruffled around in his pocket before pulling out a small card, one of the ones he had shown Sam and Dean earlier on ⸻ the only difference, this one had his number scribbled on the back of it. He handed it to Cordelia with a smirk. "If you ever wanna, you know, hook up when I'm famous, gimme a call."

"Oh, thank you," she rolled it up into a ball and threw it to the ground, Sam and Dean tried their best to hide their sniggering.

"Your loss," Ed shrugged with a grin.

"Mhm, I bet."

"Well, congratulations, guys, that sounds really great," Sam told them, though he didn't mean a word of it.

"Yeah, that's awesome, best of luck to ya," Dean added.

"Oh, yeah, luck ⸻ it's got nothin' to do with it. It's about talent, you know, sheer, unabashed talent," Ed told them as he pulled the drivers side door open, he flashed them a peace sign before climbing into the car. "Later."

The car engine spluttered as they started the car up, and embarrassment flushed Ed's face, but he played it off as he pulled his glasses off and nodded at the three confidently.

"See ya round."

"Wow," Dean scoffed as the three began to head over to the Impala.

"I have a confession to make," Sam announced, looking between the pair.

"What?" Cordelia asked as she began to tie her hair up.

"I, uh, I was the one who called them and told them I was a producer," he said bashfully, a grin on his lips as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

The three laughed in amusement before Dean spoke up, "Well, I'm the one who put the dead fish in their backseat."

Sam laughed at his brother's words before looking over at Cordelia who rolled her lips into her mouth, almost in embarrassment and Sam bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile.

"You cut holes in the heels of their socks, didn't you?"

"Yeah," she sighed, and the two brothers laughed. "Okay, it's crappy now that you've said it out loud."

"I told you," Sam gave her a pointed look before speaking. "Truce?"

"Yeah, truce, at least for the next hundred miles," Dean said as he climbed into the car.

Author's Note! *UNEDITED*
Cordy had a little Winnie the Bish moment with her prank

I can't wait to get to season 2 tho, i've got so much for them planned in season 2, only 5 more chapters to go

quick question, might sound stupid, but when cas heals people right do all their like previous scars disappear?? like i cant think