chapter seventeen

something deeper

♰

    CORDELIA SAT IN the back seat of the Impala, fingertips massaging her temples as she listened to Sam and Dean bicker ⸻ like they had been doing for the past fifteen minutes.

Honestly, she wished the car would crash and simply put her out of her misery because, damn, could those boys go on and on.

The brunette averted her gaze out of the window, watching the trees and clouds pass by as the low hum of the Impala faintly blurred out the snappy words of the Winchesters.

"Yeah, you probably missed somethin', that's what," Dean shot over at his brother, sending him a look of irritation.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's words and turned in his seat, hands wafting around dramatically to get his point across, "Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers ⸻ I couldn't find a single red flag."

"Dean, are you sure you got the coordinates right?" Cordelia asked from her place in the back, she tiredly ran her fingers through her hair before slumping into her seat. "I mean, maybe you read 'em wrong because you were tired."

"I double-checked, Cordelia," Dean rolled his eyes. "It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important," his words now directed at a frustrated Sam.

"Well, I'm telling you, I looked and all I could find was a big, steamy pile of nothing," Sam scoffed, and if Cordelia wasn't practically falling asleep in the back, she would've laughed. "If dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what."

"Well, maybe he's gonna meet us there," Dean shrugged, not taking his eyes off of the road.

Cordelia snorted from the backseat, "Not to be rude, Dean, but there's more chance of bumping into my dead brother."

"Yeah, okay, thank you, Cordelia," Dean shot back sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her rather morbid joke.

But Sam only laughed and gestured towards the brunette in agreement, "Nah, she's right, 'cause dad's been so easy to find up to this point."

The sarcasm from the pair only made Dean roll his eyes. "You're a real smartass, you know that? Both of you... a pain in my ass," he grumbled under his breath. "Listen, I'm sure there's somethin' in Fitchburg worth killin'."

"That sounds real serial killer-y," Cordelia muttered to herself under her breath as she sighed and leant back in her seat, picking at a frayed string on her jeans.

"What makes you so sure?" Sam asked, the question directed at his brother.

Dean thought to himself for a moment before pursing his lips, "Because I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right."

"No, it doesn't," Sam scoffed, voice cracking in protest.

"It totally does," Dean glanced over at his brother before looking back at the road, a little grin on his lips as they passed the Fitchburg sign.

"It literally does not," Cordelia grumbled in disagreement before sighing loudly. "Can you hurry up? I gotta go to the bathroom."

♰

    The second they finally arrived and parked up, stopping to get a coffee, Cordelia ran off to the restroom. When she emerged, Dean already had a coffee in hand waiting for her.

He could be sweet, sometimes.

So the pair headed back over to Sam, who was leant up against the Impala, staring at a park.

Because that wasn't creepy at all.

"Well, the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that no one's heard about anything weird going on," Dean said as he handed Sam a coffee.

"Either of you got the time?" Sam asked, stopping the pair in their tracks as they moved to get in the car.

Cordelia sighed in annoyance and grabbed Dean's wrist, causing the Winchester to mumble 'ow' under his breath as she tugged his jacket out of the way, "Ten after four."

"Why?" Dean asked as he tugged his wrist back, an offended frown on his face as he took a step toward his brother ⸻ away from Cordelia.

"What's wrong with this picture?" Sam asked, nodding in the direction of the children's park, where, seemingly, it appeared deserted, only one child played.

"School's out, isn't it?" Dean questioned, a frown pulling on his face.

"Yeah, so where is everybody? This place should be crawling with kids right now."

Cordelia pursed her lips and looked towards the brunet, "Can I just say how creepy you look right now, I- I don't even wanna be around you, oh my god. This is so embarrassing."

But her embarrassment only grew as Dean trailed off, heading towards the mother of the lone child in the park.

Oh great, not only was she hanging around with the guy who stares at a children's park, but the guy who asks about the kids' whereabouts. Great, just great.

So, she hid in the backseat. She did not want to be associated with the creepy man dressed in flannel asking about children.

Sam huffed in amusement at her actions, but it was only a few seconds later when he was joining her in the car. He eyed his brother for a moment before turning to Cordelia.

"So?" He asked, staring back over at her before lifting his coffee to his lips.

"So what?" Cordelia asked incredulously, wrapping her hands around the paper cup to bring a little warmth to her body.

"Have you and Dean spoke yet? You know, about your feelings?" Sam encouraged, raising his eyebrows pointedly.

Cordelia rolled her eyes and groaned in annoyance, sliding further down her seat, "Why would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Sam shot back, shooting her a look. "Look, you both need to pull your heads outta your asses-"

But, unfortunately for Sam, and fortunately for Cordelia, Dean was already back in the car and unaware of the conversation that was being held before his arrival.

And in Dean fashion, he began to tell the two about what he had learnt from the woman, oblivious to the looks that Sam was shooting the brunette Moore in the backseat.

♰

    They then headed over to Dane County Memorial Hospital to take a closer look at the kids. Majority of the children in the town had fallen ill, some were okay, but it was suspicious.

Sam and Dean were clad in suits while Cordelia opted for a skirt. Cordelia had a love-hate relationship with the dress-up side of hunting. The hate was the pain in her feet she'd get after wearing heels for far too long. But at the same time, she loved wearing them.

Dean held the door open for Sam, and in turn, Sam held the door open for Cordelia, but his attention was elsewhere as he held one of his, many, fake I.Ds.

"Dude. Dude," he called out towards his brother, voice lowered as they stopped by the doorway. "I am not using this I.D."

"Why not?" Dean frowned, genuine confusion on his face which only made Cordelia snort in amusement.

"Because it says bikini inspector on it," Sam stressed, sending his brother an irritated glare before he glanced down at Cordelia. "Cordelia gets a normal one and I get freakin' bikini inspector."

"Because I do my own, like hell I'd trust Dean to do that, he'd probably put something stupid like-"

"Bikini inspector?" Sam cut in and Cordelia stifled a laugh at his frustration.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Don't worry, she won't look that close, hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence, Sammy," Dean told his brother before spinning the younger brunet around to face the desk in passing. Cordelia and Dean kept walking, stopping a little further down the hall.

The receptionist looked up and eyed the clumsy, flustered boy who plastered a wide smile on his face, trying to exude confidence, as Dean said. "Hi. I'm, um, Dr. Jerry Kaplan, centre for disease control."

The woman placed her hands on the desk and glanced up at him with an expectant look, "Can I see some I.D.?"

Cordelia and Dean snickered at the woman's request but turned away when Sam shot them both a dirty look.

"He's gonna spit in your food for this," Cordelia muttered under her breath, but Dean merely shrugged, small smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Back over at the desk, Sam quickly flashed the receptionist his I.D., holding his thumb over part of it, "Now, could you direct me to the paediatrics ward please?"

"Okay, just go down that hall, turn left, up the stairs. You'll see them," she instructed.

Sam whispered a small "thank you" over at her before heading back to Dean and Cordelia. Dean grinned sheepishly over at his brother, but Sam gave him his classic bitchface.

"See. I told you it would work," Dean smiled widely, but Sam merely shook his head in annoyance.

"Follow me, it's upstairs," Sam said gruffly, a hard expression on his face before he headed off in the direction the woman had told him.

"Oh, so demanding," Cordelia teased as she and Dean followed after the younger boy.

"Not a word," Sam shook his head, not even looking at her as he practically stormed up the stairs.

Dean and Cordelia followed him as he led them down the hall, the pair shared amused glances at Sam's clear frustration.

Dean, being nosy as ever, rudely glanced into each patient's room as he passed, but one woman had him stopping in his tracks. A creepy-looking woman sat in a wheelchair and slowly turned her head to look at him.

Dean stared over at her gormlessly.

Cordelia turned around and noticed the Winchester stood, gawking at something, so she headed over to him and grabbed his arm. "Stop being rude, you can't just-" but her words came to a short stop as the woman met her eye. "Holy hell," she muttered under her breath at the woman's unbreakable stare.

Though Dean wasn't so focused on the woman anymore, his eyes were drawn to the inverted cross that hung on her wall.

"Come on," Cordelia muttered before taking off, following after Sam.

When they finally made it to the ward, they were taken to Dr. Hydacker who led them through the waiting room and Cordelia's heart ached at the sight of all the parents of the sick children.

"Thanks for seeing us, Dr. Hydacker," Dean spoke with the utmost professionalism as he shook the man's hand briefly before they headed through the halls.

"Well, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call the CDC myself. How'd you find out anyway?" The Doctor inquired, sending them a fleeting look.

"Oh, some G.P. ⸻ I forgot his name, he called Atlanta and must have beat you to the punch," Dean shrugged off the Doctor's question smoothly.

"So, six cases in five weeks?" Cordelia asked as they stopped outside the children's room.

"At first we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy, but now..." He sighed, words trailing off as he glanced at the paling children, coaxing the three hunters to do the same.

"Now, what?" Sam asked.

"The kids aren't responding to antibiotics, their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are... wearing out."

"Excuse me, Dr. Hydacker," a nurse interrupted, handing the Doctor some forms to look over and sign.

"You ever see anything like this before?" Sam asked the man, brows furrowed in thought. A case would always stir some emotions with the hunters, but more so when it was children. In this life, it wasn't ideal to have kids, so, Cordelia especially ( whilst not liking most children ) always tended to take these to heart.

"Never this severe." The man answered ruefully, a solemn look etched upon his features.

"The way it spreads, that's a new one for me," the young nurse spoke up as she took the forms from Dr Hydacker's grasp, the curious look on the trio's face coaxed her to continue, "It works it's way through families, but only the children, one sibling after another."

Dean looked thoughtful for a second and something familiar flickered in his eyes, but in Dean fashion, he pushed it down and cleared his throat before asking, "You mind if we interview a few of the kids?"

The nurse took a moment, a sigh left her mouth before she lightly shook her head, "They're not conscious."

"None of them?" Cordelia asked with a frown, briefly glancing into the room where all the children lay and her stomach churned, every one of them was hooked up to monitors, looking as though the life had been drained out of them.

"No."

"Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?" Dean asked, looking between the Doctor and the nurse ⸻ the pair shared a hesitant glance before nodding reluctantly.

"If you think it'll help," Dr. Hydacker offered a small shrug.

"Yeah. Yeah, who was your most recent admission?"

So, Dr. Hydacker led them to the father of two of the patients. He sat in the waiting room, a distressed look coaxed his features as he ran a hand across his face. The bags under his eyes only highlighted just how tired he was.

They introduced themselves as softly as possible and soon found out it hit his thirteen-year-old daughter, Mary, first before it spread to his youngest Bethany.

It took all of mere minutes into the conversation for him to decide he was done with talking about it. Mr. Tarnowner rubbed his warm hands down his jean-clad legs and sighed, "I should get back to my girls," he deemed, moving to get up to do just that when Cordelia's voice softly coaxed him otherwise.

"We understand that, and we appreciate you talking to us. I only have a couple more questions, I promise," Cordelia spoke softly, taking the seat beside him. The man stared at her for a moment before nodding hesitantly. "So, your oldest got sick first and then Bethany the next night?"

"Within twenty hours?" Sam continued.

"I guess," Mr Tarnowner shrugged, a tired sigh left his lips as he looked around the waiting room. "Look, I already went through all this with the doctors."

"Just a couple more questions, and we're done, okay?" Cordelia said, her tone calming.

"How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold? Anything like that?" Dean spoke up, his tone attempting to match Cordelia's ⸻ it was easier to talk to distressed parents, rather than the gruff way he'd usually shoot questions at them.

"No, we, we think it was an open window," the man answered, looking down at his lap in shame.

"Both times?"

"The first time I don't really remember, but the, the second time, for sure. I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed."

"So you think she opened it?" Sam asked with a frown, he and the other two hunters shared a look.

"It's a second-story window. No ledge," the man pointed out. "No one else could've."

So, with that, they thanked him and made their way out of the hospital. Cordelia's heels clicked incessantly behind her as she sped up in an attempt to catch up with the long strides of the Winchester boys.

"You know this might not be anything supernatural. Might just be pneumonia," Sam pointed out, holding the door open for the other two before following after them, letting it slam shut behind him.

"Maybe, or maybe something opened that window," Dean argued with a shrug, inhaling deeply as the soft breeze of the wind hit his face. "I don't know, man, look, dad sent us down here for a reason. I think we might be barking up the right tree."

"Okay, say you're right-"

"I am right," Dean cut in, raising a singular eyebrow towards the brunette who rolled her eyes at the interruption.

"Say you're right," she continued, enunciating her words slowly so the point got across, making Dean roll his eyes. "We need to take a look around, and I'm willing to bet that it'll be a while before Mr. Tarnowner goes home."

♰

The three smoothly broke into Mr. Tarnowner's house ⸻ it was a piece of cake, Cordelia picked the lock and easily broke into the alarm system and it wasn't that much later they were looking around.

They felt weird, creeping around a child's room, but it was the job, one that would probably brand them as insane, but a job, nonetheless. She glanced around the little girl's room as Sam and Dean pulled their EMF meters from their pockets.

They started scanning along the walls, just as Cordelia slowly made her way around the room. A small smile pulled at her lips at the mountain of teddy bears piled up on the bed. She was the same as a child, Adrian, her brother, would always buy her one to add to her extremely large collection.

Prying her eyes away from the assortment, she headed over to the windows, pulling back the sheer, white curtain, her eyes swiped over the windowsill ⸻ her brows furrowed as she lifted a hand and latched her palm around the handle, pushing the window open.

She leaned forward slightly, peering down at the windowsill. She pursed her lips at the sight of a large, handprint rotted into the wood. A short sigh left her lips as she mentally prepared herself for Dean's "I was right and you were wrong" speech.

"You were right, it's not pneumonia," Cordelia announced briefly glancing back, eyes flitting between Sam and Dean. The latter raised a singular brow and made his way towards her, a smirk pulled at Dean's lips as he approached.

Sam shuffled over, standing beside the Moore and peered at the handprint, his brows furrowed at the sight. Dean, however, grinned, rubbing his hands together in victory.

"Hey, you can apologise later," he said cockily, hand latching onto her shoulder, he gave the brunette a condescending pat. Though his cocky façade soon slipped as he eyed the handprint, smile wiping clean off his face.

"It's rotted," Sam spoke, head tilting slightly as he eyed the wood. "What the hell leaves a handprint like that?"

Dean slid in-between the pair and rested his forearms on the ledge, getting a better look at the handprint. An unreadable expression crossed his features. He silently pulled away from the window and swallowed roughly.

"I know why dad sent us here," he spoke. Cordelia and Sam turned to him in question, the former furrowed her brows as she noticed his complexion paling ever so lightly. "He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job."

♰

After that, they went in search of a motel ⸻ the car journey wasn't too long, only Cordelia felt violently sick as Dean sharply swerved between the cars as though he was in a Fast and Furious movie. He was upset, that much she could tell.

He didn't say much in the car, he didn't even boast about the fact that he was right and she and Sam were wrong. What he did say, though, was what it was they were hunting. But that was pretty much it.

"So what the hell is a Shtriga?" Sam asked, slamming the car door shut once they were parked up. He turned, facing his brother so that they could talk over the car.

Cordelia, however, was too busy texting her uncle in the backseat to even realise that they had stopped until a loud tap was heard. Her head shot up and she met the eyes of an irritated Sam, who stared at her with raised eyebrows before gesturing for her to get out of the car.

With an eye roll, she clambered out of the car but stood by the open door. She inhaled sharply as the cold air hit her body and the spits of rain fell on her face.

Sam shook his head but allowed his attention to drag back over to his brother as he headed towards the back of the car. "It's kinda like a witch, I think," Dean shrugged nonchalantly as he shuffled around in the trunk, slinging his duffle over his shoulder. "I don't know much about 'em."

"Well, I've never heard of it, and it's not in dad's journal," Sam said pointedly, staring his brother down hard ⸻ slowly growing irritated at Dean's lack of words.

With a big sigh, Dean faced his brother, "Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. About sixteen, seventeen years ago. You were there, you don't remember?"

"No," Sam told him, confusion clear on his face as he tried to wrack his brain, trying to remember the hunt that Dean was talking about, but he came up empty.

"I guess he caught wind that the thing's in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates."

"What's it called? A Shit-?" Cordelia began to ask as she rounded the car, stuffing her phone into the back pocket of her jeans as she grabbed her bag, closing the trunk after.

"Shtriga, Cordelia," Dean replied in exasperation, his frustration only growing as Sam and Cordelia hounded questions at him, which only confused the latter ⸻ they always did this, they always asked questions and he'd answer them in the smart-ass way that usually he did.

But something was different and both brunettes could tell.

What? They were unsure.

"And you think it's the same one dad hunted before?" The youngest Winchester asked, a prominent frown settling on his face.

"Yeah, maybe," Dean shrugged coolly, turning, he began to head towards the door that held a sign that stated office, bright, white letters shining down ⸻ only to be stopped by Sam's voice.

"But if dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?" Sam frowned, sceptical as he followed after his brother.

"Cause it got away," Dean shrugged nonchalantly.

"Got away?"

"Yeah, Sammy, it happens," Dean snapped, getting tired of Sam's questioning. Cordelia and Sam shared a look at his tone.

What an angry little man, Cordelia thought to herself, eyes dragging up and down Dean's tense figure.

"Not very often," Sam pointed out, eyebrows raised in a way that screamed know-it-all.

"Well, I mean, I don't know what to tell you. Maybe dad didn't have his Wheaties that mornin'." Once again, Dean shrugged his brother off casually, a forced grin sat on his lips.

"Somehow, I don't believe that," Cordelia spoke up, narrowed eyes watching Dean carefully. He was lying, he kept trying to walk off, toward the motel office, but Sam stopped him ⸻ he was trying to get out of this conversation. He was lying.

Sam nodded in Cordelia's direction, pointing toward her in agreement. "What else do you remember?" The brunet asked his brother, cautious eyes on the dirty blond.

"Nothin', I was a kid, alright?" Dean lifted his shoulders in a shrug before pushing open the office door.

"Lying liar," Cordelia said, looking up to Sam as she and the brunet watched Dean head towards the desk.

"You think?" Sam turned his attention to her as he watched her pull open the back door, leaning down she grabbed her jacket that was carelessly draped over the backseat.

"Oh, yeah."

Inside the motel office, Dean rang the bell with a sigh. It was a small office. Strewn with items to make it appear more homely, bright golden lighting shone down from the ceiling and a warmth flooded the room, concealing the shivers that Dean felt against the outside air.

He raised his eyebrows as a young boy approached the desk ⸻ face as miserable as Dean's mood.

The young boy let out a loud sigh and looked up at Dean expectantly, "King or two queens?"

"Three singles," Dean responded, briefly glancing back at his brother, though he couldn't spot Cordelia, who was still stood by the backseat.

"We got a king or two queens," the young boy shrugged, looking at Dean expectantly.

Dean pulled a face at the boy's attitude and plastered a fake smile on his lips, "Two queens."

The boy took one glance at Sam and scoffed, raising a singular eyebrow. "Yeah, I bet," he muttered sarcastically under his breath.

Just then, the bell above the door rang and Cordelia made her way inside, whilst Sam ventured to wait out by the car. "What'd you say?" Dean asked, not diverting his gaze from the boy, whom he narrowed his eyes at.

He didn't have to turn to know it was Cordelia who came and stood next to him, he could sense her, feel her warmth against the cold air. Smell her perfume.

The boy dragged his gaze to Cordelia, eyes wide, but she didn't notice, no, her eyes were glued to the small phone in hand. He then looked back to Dean; who now had a smug look written across his face. As if she could feel it, she looked up, eyebrows furrowing at the weird smile on Dean's face.

"What?"

"Huh? Nothin'," Dean shrugged, sending her a reassuring smile that only had her narrowing her eyes.

"Right..."

"Nice-" Before the young boy could finish his sentence, a brunette woman made her way into the office, bell dinging above her head ⸻ announcing her entrance.

"Hi, checking in?" The woman smiled warmly over to the pair, shutting the door behind her. A stack of paperwork in hand as she made her way behind the desk, coming to a stand next to the young boy.

"Hi, yeah," Dean sent a polite smile her way, nudging Cordelia harshly, yet discreetly, in the ribs to gain her attention ⸻ as once again, her eyes flitted down to the little BlackBerry in hand.

Cordelia's head snapped up in shock and her eyes narrowed as she glared at the man. He only gave her that silly smile back. She rolled her eyes, pulling her gaze away from him and over to the woman as she spoke.

"Ah, do me a favour. Go get your brother some dinner," the woman told the young boy who rolled his eyes at her words, she tilted her head and gave him that mother-ly look that screamed, now.

"I'm helping a guest," he shrugged, gesturing towards Dean, that playful tone in his voice was strictly reserved for his mother, who, in turn, sent him a pointed look and he grimaced, turning to go before he stopped by the door that led to their small living room.

At the smug look Dean sent the boy, he narrowed his eyes and his words were directed at his mom. "Two queens," he emphasised, sending Dean a distasteful look before disappearing into the back room.

A fake laugh rumbled from Dean's chest. "Funny kid," his tone was dry.

"Oh, yeah, he thinks so," the brunette woman behind the desk sent Dean a brief smile before her eyes flitted down to the papers she had placed on the counter top, picking the pen up that was carelessly tossed aside, she began messily scribbling down on the parchment. "Will that be cash or credit?"

"You take MasterCard?" Dean asked, ruffling around his pocket in search of his wallet as the woman hummed in answer. "Perfect."

He placed the card down on the desk and Cordelia's lips tugged into a small smile as she read the name. Kris Warren. As the woman handed Dean some paperwork to sign, his attention was soon stolen as he eyed the young boy and his brother. The older sibling poured his younger brother a glass of milk and it immediately sent Dean down memory lane.

Cordelia eyed Dean as he paused his actions, attention on the pair. Her brows furrowed as she dragged her eyes from him and over to what he was looking at, only further confusing her.

The Moore sent the woman behind the desk a quick smile as she smoothly pulled the papers closer to herself, since Dean had zoned out, signing them before she handed them off to the older brunette.

Once the woman behind the desk finished scanning Dean's card, she held it out towards him. When the Winchester failed to reach for the card, Cordelia grabbed it between her fingers and sent the woman a smile whilst discreetly nudging Dean in the ribs.

The Winchester blinked ferociously and a flustered look covered his face before he cleared his throat, taking the card that Cordelia held out to him, he sent her a smile in thanks before pulling his eyes towards the owner, "Thanks."

After handing him one last thing to sign, she gave them a set of keys and with an appreciative nod. After that, they made their way back out to Sam, who was still stood by the Impala.

Sam looked up upon their arrival and pushed his body off of the car. "Hey, I'm gonna go grab some food-"

"If I have to eat another burger I will strangle you," Cordelia threatened, head shifting from one Winchester to the other.

Sam threw his hands up in mock defence and nodded, "I'll get... I dunno', Thai or somethin'."

"Th- Thai?" Dean spluttered out, frowning at his brother's words; as if what he had said offended him. "No, you two got your pick last night."

After a moment of tense silence, where Dean narrowed his eyes at the two brunettes and the pair rolled their eyes back, Cordelia pursed her lips in thought and turned to Sam. "Thai sounds good," she stated before moving to walk off, heading further down the parking lot, keeping an eye out for their room number.

"Thai it is," Sam nodded towards her retreating figure before he gave his brother a smug smile. Dean only rolled his eyes and shook his head, accepting his defeat before he reached into his pockets and pulled the keys out ⸻ tossing them towards Sam.

"Just..." Dean inhaled deeply. "Be careful with my car, man."

With one last eye roll from Sam, Dean spun on his heels and with a fastened pace, he caught up with Cordelia, who was stood by the door to their room, leant up against the wall. An amused look crossed her face as the irritated frown on Dean's deepened.

So, they headed inside and dropped their duffels by the foot of one of the beds. Cordelia fiddled with the zipper on her jacket before she moved across the room, reaching for Sam and Dean's shared bag ⸻ soon pulling out Sam's laptop.

She knew if he knew she was using it he'd have a fit. He was always so anal about little things like this, he was always that way, even back at Stanford but she got it, she didn't like people touching her crap either.

It didn't take long for Dean and Cordelia to fall into their routine. Working around each other as they gathered pieces of research. Though, after a short time, Cordelia moved to lounge on the small couch. She wasn't sure what to look for, she had papers and papers in front of her but none of it fitted into the case.

It seemed Dean soon gave up as well as he flopped down beside her, Cordelia lifted her head as she felt Dean's rough palms scrape against her skin as he moved her legs back, placing them in his lap.

No one said anything for a short while. The pair drained and sleep-deprived as they waited on Sam. It was only when Dean reached for the remote that sat on the small coffee table, that Cordelia spoke.

"Don't you dare, I have a headache," she told the Winchester with a tired sigh leaving her chapped lips. Dean pursed his lips but did not say anything. His silence had Cordelia narrowing her eyes.

That was like, what? the third time she said something and he didn't make a snarky retort back?

"What's wrong with you?" She didn't hesitate to ask, pushing her body up the couch, back resting against the armrest, tips of her toes poking at his thigh.

"What? Nothin'," he denied with an odd facial expression. The Moore merely tilted her head in confusion, as well as concern. Sparing a short look at the brunette, Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Cordelia."

"You're not fine," she narrowed her eyes. "What you are... is lying through your ass. C'mon, talk to me, I'll be your none judge-y therapist," her tone softened, trying to lighten the mood in hopes he'd talk when he merely ignored her words, she lifted her foot and nudged him in the ribs to get his attention, but he batted her foot away with his hand.

"I'm fine, and I don't need no damn therapist."

"Good job I'm not a therapist then, isn't it?" She gently coaxed. When he didn't say anything, for a second, she didn't think he would; but then, he opened and closed his mouth. Almost in hesitation, like he didn't know what to say.

Everyone knew Dean wasn't good at talking about emotional things or feelings. Cordelia knew that first hand, so, yeah, she didn't think he'd talk to her, but it was worth a try ⸻ what kind of friend would she be if she didn't try?

Dean usually kept to himself. Sometimes it was because he couldn't get the words out, like he didn't know what to say ⸻ how to say how he felt. Other times, it was merely because he didn't want to bother anyone. He didn't want to burden people with his problems, with his feelings.

But there was something comforting about Cordelia. Something that made him want to. Don't get him wrong, it was still hard; he still struggled with what to say or how to say it, but he tried. He tried with her.

"I lied, uh... about how much I remember," he began, hand rubbing against his jaw, he was uncomfortable. "It was my fault it got away. Why my dad couldn't catch the damn thing. I... I left Sammy in the motel room that night, even though my dad told me not to, but I, don't know, I needed air, I guess. I headed to the arcade and when I came back it was over his bed.

"I froze, Cordelia. I mean, I knew what I had to do; I remembered what he told me to do. But I just... froze," he tore his eyes from hers, he swallowed roughly; like he was trying to hold back his tears, his emotions. He exhaled and his expression hardened. "He could've died because of me. After that, my dad, he looked at me different, can't say I blame him. He told me to do somethin' and I didn't listen. That's on me."

"Nothing's on you, you were what? Nine? Ten? It wasn't your fault, Dean, you were a kid, it was a lot to put on you," Cordelia spoke softly as she pulled her body up, folding her legs beneath her as she reached out, a tentative hand resting on his forearm. It was touch and go with Dean, she didn't know if he'd shrug her off of him, push her away. While he wouldn't look her in the eye, he didn't push her away.

"I should've known better," he shook his head, jaw clenched.

"You were ten, ten-year-olds shouldn't be responsible for kids, you were a kid yourself Dean, if you wanna start blaming someone, blame that Shtriga thing, hell, blame your dad for leaving you two in the first place. It's not on you-" When Dean opened his mouth to say something, she sent him a scolding look that had his lips pressing together. "You were a kid," she enunciated, trying to get the point across one last time. "No. It wasn't your fault, okay? I'm not gonna let you blame yourself, so shut up and agree with me."

A small smile pulled at his lips and he lightly nodded his head. "Yeah, okay." Even with her joking tone toward the end, he knew she was serious. When he did finally turn to look at her, her eyes said it all; she was not about to let him blame himself, and for once, he wasn't going to. "Sam was right, you woulda' made a good lawyer, barely let me get a word in there."

She huffed out a laugh but didn't say anything, only pulling her knees up to her chest. She tugged the arms of her Juicy Couture hoodie to fit around part of her hands, trying to bring some warmth to her body and eventually rested her chin against her knee.

"Hey, um..." he spoke once more, more hesitant in his words. "Thanks."

Before she could say anything, the door swung open and an irritated-looking Sam waltzed in. A large paper bag in hand as he pushed the door shut with his free hand, tossing Dean's keys down onto the table.

Cordelia sent Dean a gentle smile in understanding before the pair finally turned their full attention onto Sam.

"Sorry Cor, Thai place was closed-"

The gleeful smile that pulled at Dean's face as he saw the takeout boxes should've pissed her off, but for some reason, she smiled.

Huh, wonder what that was all about.

After the three ate, they got back to research. Sam sat on the bed, his laptop placed in front of him whilst Dean stood across the room, pouring himself yet another cup of coffee ⸻ books and books laid out on the counter in front of him. Cordelia, on the other hand, laid out on the couch, flickering through sheets of paper.

The Moore lifted her hand and rubbed at her eyes, dropping the sheets to the partially soft material of the settee. She had been staring at this sheet of paper for what felt like forever, her eyes began to blur. She blinked over and over again, but it only made it worse.

"Well, you were right. It wasn't very easy to find but you were right," Sam spoke up, words directed at his brother. The pair's ears perked at his words. "A Shtriga is a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about them date back to ancient Rome. They feed off of spiritus vitae."

"Spirit what?" Dean repeated, a dumbfounded look painted across his features. Almost immediately after Sam shrugged in answer, both Winchesters turned their heads expectantly looking at Cordelia.

With an exasperated eye-roll, she ran her fingers through her hair. "It means breath of life, it's Latin. Kind of means your, I don't know, essence." She told them as she got up from the couch, making her way over to Dean.

"Didn't the doctor say the kids' bodies were wearing out?" Dean asked, briefly looking up to meet her eye before he looked down at the parchment on the counter and scribbled something down.

"Yeah, I mean, it makes sense," Cordelia said, understanding what he was getting at. As she passed the oldest Winchester brother, she grabbed the coffee mug that was placed on the counter and lifted it to her lips. A grimace pulled at her face as the bitter taste seeped through her tastebuds.

"Every damn time, Cordelia," he shook his head, grasping the mug with an eye-roll as she handed it back over to him.

"Shtrigas take your vitality, maybe your immunity goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold," Sam began to speak, a deep furrow in his brows as he glanced down at his laptop, eyes scanning the bright screen back and forth. "Anyway, they can feed off anyone, but they prefer-"

"Children."

"Yeah," Sam nodded, a deep sigh leaving his lips. "Probably because they have a stronger life force, and get this ⸻ Shtrigas are invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man."

"The hell do we kill it with then? Sheer determination?" Cordelia asked sarcastically, resting her forearms on the countertop as she leant against the side.

"No, that's not right," Dean shook his head as he approached the free bed, unzipping the old, tattered duffle, he began ruffling around inside. "She's vulnerable when she feeds."

"What?" Sam asked, confusion clear on his face as his frown deepened. He briefly caught Cordelia's eye before looking back at his brother.

"If you catch her when she's eating, you can blast her with consecrated wrought irons, uh, buckshot or rounds I think," Dean told the pair as he pulled out John's journal, pulling the leather string that tied around the journal.

"How do you know that?" Once again, Sam was dumbfounded, confusion covered his face and he watched Dean suspiciously, but the eldest brother didn't look up as he approached the counter, placing the journal down, he merely began to flicker through it.

Paying no attention to Sam and his confused state.

"Dad told me. I remember." Was all he said in answer with a simple shrug.

"Oh. So, uh," Sam kissed his teeth before a scoff followed, he lightly shook his head, "Anything else dad might have mentioned."

"No, that's it," Dean spared Sam a short, casual glance. Sam pursed his lips and glanced over at Dean, just silently watching him. As if he could feel the burn of the stare on the side of his face, the oldest Winchester turned, facing his younger brother. "What?" He asked him, a slight edge to his voice.

Sam thought to himself for a moment before turning away with a small shrug. "Nothin'," he pushed his laptop screen back and got up from the bed, trailing over to Cordelia and Dean, before he began speaking again. "Okay, so, assuming we can kill it when it eats, we've still got to find the thing first, which ain't gonna be a cakewalk. Shtrigas take on a human disguise when they're not hunting."

"What kind of human disguise? You're telling me it could be walking 'round with, what? Chris Evans' face?" Cordelia asked sarcastically, but then a sly look covered her features. "Hell, in that case-"

"Feeble old ladies, Cordelia, not Chris Evans," Sam cut in with an eye-roll. "Historically, something innocuous. Which may be how the whole witches as old crones legend got started."

As though something suddenly dawned on Dean, he crossed the room and grabbed a map from the pile of leaflets that were strewn on the small coffee table for guests. "Check this out," he opened the map up and placed it down on the table, their eyes immediately finding the small Xs written in red ink. "I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far, and dead centre?"

"The hospital," Cordelia concluded, furrowing her brows at the sight. "So, what? It's someone in the hospital?"

"You remember that patient? The old woman," Dean's words were directed at Cordelia.

She pursed her lips to hide the amused smile that so desperately wanted to show. She could see Sam in the corner of her eye, not bothering to hide his amusement. "An old person, huh? In the hospital? Phew," Sam blew out an exaggerated breath and shook his head before a snigger left his lips ⸻ Dean stared at him dryly. "Better call the Coast Guard."

"Well, listen smartass, she had an inverted cross on her wall. You'd of known that if you were payin' attention." Those last words were directed at Cordelia, who narrowed her eyes at his smug expression.

"Fuck off," Cordelia pursed her lips, but the playful tone was evident in her voice, the boys could practically see the smile on her lips even after she turned away, incoherently grumbling to herself.

"You set her off," Sam lowered his voice as he glanced over at his brother, lips tugging up into an amused smile.

"Ah, she'll be fine."

♰

    "I can't believe I have to shoot an old lady," Cordelia whispered over to the Winchesters as they quietly walked the hallways of the hospital, trying their best not to look suspicious.

"Good thing it ain't an old lady then, isn't it?" Dean grumbled back, sending her a look that said, seriously? the Moore only shrugged her shoulders in response, once again mumbling under her breath before her words trailed off as another voice spoke.

"Good night Dr. Hydacker." An unfamiliar voice, presumably a nurse, spoke, causing the three to stop in place and press their bodies up against the wall, hiding themselves from the workers in the hall.

"See you tomorrow, Betty." The recognised voice of Dr. Hydacker spoke.

"Try to get some sleep, Aaron."

With that, the man waltzed towards the stairs, failing to notice the three hunters pressed against the wall in passing, who held their breath until he was out of sight.

Dean leant forward, head peering around the corner before he glanced back and made a little hand gesture, mouthing come on, as he did so. They strolled the halls, following the steps they had taken earlier that day until they stood outside of the patients' room.

Sam took a glance in the small window on the door as Dean pulled his gun out of the back of his jeans. Sam and Cordelia only stared at him in shock.

"We can't shoot her in a hospital," Cordelia whisper-shouted over at him, eyes wide at his actions. "Kidnap the bitch, then shoot her."

"Yeah? Like that's any better, Cor, how we gonna kidnap her without her screaming for help, huh?" Dean shot back eyebrows raised mockingly.

"How you gonna shoot her without, I don't know, the big loud bang?"

"A pillow," he sent her a forced smile. "It's just a precaution, not like we can kill her until she's feeding, anyway."

Cordelia didn't say anything but pulled a face that implicated she agreed. Without wasting more time than they already had, Dean cocked his gun and Sam's hand wrapped around the door handle.

The three entered the room, light on their feet. Dean first, gun held up in front of him, followed by Cordelia and Sam, where the latter quietly shut the door behind him.

The woman didn't stir from her seated position in the wheelchair. The slow breaths that left her mouth only convinced the trio that she was sleeping. Cordelia and Sam pulled their guns ⸻ Cordelia was still confused as to how they'd got about this, but, hey, she was down.

But as Dean slowly inched closer to the older woman, her head suddenly snapped in his direction, "Who the hell are you?" She spat.

The three jumped in shock, hearts pounding wildly in their chests. Cordelia's hand slapped over her mouth in surprise, a high-pitched noise welled from the back of her throat. Holy hell. Dean threw himself into the wall, wiping a hand down his face in exasperation as he caught his breath. Sam, on the other hand, only reared back in shock, not as 'dramatic' as the pair, as he'd later state.

The trio scrambled to hide their guns.

"Who's there?!" The woman grumbled, ferociously glancing around the room. The three shared a look before Sam flicked the light switch and a golden hue illuminated the room, but still, Dean looked scared for his life. He was almost trembling. "You tryna' steal my stuff? They're always stealing around here."

Sam's eyes were wide and he looked toward the other two in silent conversation. He'd hoped one of them would speak. But neither did, so, in a panicked ramble, he blurted out, "No! Ma'am, we're maintenance. We're sorry. We thought you were sleeping."

The woman seemed to relax a touch at Sam's words. "Ah, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open," she chuckled to herself before gesturing towards the upside-down crucifix that hung on the wall behind Dean, "And fix that crucifix, would you? I've asked four damn times already."

Dean silently glanced between the grey-haired woman and the cross before he lifted his hand, and gave the cross a little nudge and it swung the right away up.

"Sorry to bother you, Ma'am," Cordelia smiled awkwardly, yet apologetically at the woman before she grabbed Sam and Dean's wrists and dragged them out the door, knocking the light switch off as she did so.

As the three stood outside the room, they said nothing for a moment, only breathing heavily as they took in what the hell just happened.

"I need a drink."

♰

    By the time they got back to the motel, the sun had risen and Cordelia was struggling to keep her eyes open. She managed to get a few minutes laid out in the back, but with Dean's aggressive twists and turns as he drove, she found it hard.

Just as she finally managed to get comfortable, the car stopped. Finally, she thought to herself. The motel mattress wasn't memory foam, but it was one of the best ones she'd slept in in months.

As she groggily climbed out of the car and wrapped her jacket tight against her body, Sam and Dean proved to be in higher spirits than she was. Childish laughter escaped Sam's lips as he, too, climbed out of the Impala.

"I was sleepin' with my peepers open," he repeated the woman's words, only laughing harder to himself at the reminder.

As contagious as Sam's laugh was, she could only crack a small smile. She was too tired to even pretend to listen to what he was saying.

"I almost smoked that old gal, I swear," Dean grumbled, shaking his head as they followed after Sam who led them toward the room ⸻ Sam's laughter only continued. "It's not funny."

"Oh, man, you should've seen your face, Dean," Sam grinned as he looked back at his brother, just as the youngest Winchester went to unlock the door, something grabbed Dean's attention.

"Oh, yeah, laugh it off. Now we're back to square one," he muttered under his breath, eyes quickly spotting the owner's son sat on the bench outside the office, his brows furrowed as he silently watched him before he briefly turned to face the other two. "Hang on," he told them, heading over to the boy.

Cordelia smiled slightly at the concern on Dean's face as he strode over to the young boy, it was little moments like this where she found it hard to push her feelings for him away.

However, that smile soon dropped from her face as Sam took the key out of the door, leaving it locked as he followed Dean's path. Cordelia internally groaned, all she had been thinking about was throwing herself into bed and getting as much sleep as she possibly could ⸻ but no, the Winchesters had other plans.

It wasn't like she was an evil bitch. Of course, she was worried about the kid, but she could worry about him in the comfort of the bed as she slept soundly knowing that Sam and Dean alone went to check on him.

With a huff, she sluggishly followed after them. She smiled gently towards the boy as he looked up at the three approaching him. When Dean crouched down beside the bench he was sat at, he asked, "Hey, what's wrong?"

"My brother's sick," the boy told them, face falling further if that was even possible.

"The little guy?"

The young boy nodded to Dean's question, tired, watery eyes meeting his. "Pneumonia. He's in the hospital," he told them before looking toward the ground, almost in shame. "It's my fault."

"No. Come on, how?" It sounded as though it pained Dean to even ask that. Cordelia looked between the two and couldn't help but notice the similarities in them. Their attitude, for starters. The way they looked over their brothers, whilst being kids, they felt the need to protect and act as parents. It felt like she was meeting Dean, but seventeen years ago.

He sniffled and dragged his gaze back over to Dean. "I shoulda' made sure the window was latched." At his words, Sam and Cordelia shared a brief look. "He wouldn't have gotten pneumonia if the window was latched."

"Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault, okay?" Dean reassured him, hard eyes meeting the boys. He felt like he was staring at a mirror.

"It's my job to look after him," the young boy argued.

Just then, the boy's very dishevelled mother walked out of the motel office, juggling many things in her arms as she struggled to close the door. She turned her attention to her son as she approached her unlocked car. "Michael," she called out his name as she began shoving pillows and blankets into the back seat of the car. "I want you to turn on the no vacancy sign when I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service so don't bother with any of the rooms."

"I'm going with you," he insisted, getting up from his place on the bench as he approached the car.

"Not now, Michael."

"But I gotta see Asher," Michael argued.

Upon seeing the mother's struggle, Dean slowly trailed over towards the boy. "Hey, Michael. Hey, I know how you feel. I'm a big brother, too. But you gotta go easy on your mom right now, okay?"

In her hasty movements the woman dropped her bag, frustrated, she ran her fingers through her hair and cursed, "Damn it!"

"I got it, here," Cordelia reached down to grab the handbag, passing it back over to the woman with a faint smile.

"Thanks," she sighed.

"Listen, you're in no condition to drive, why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital?" Dean offered and she instantly began shaking her head in answer.

"No. No. I couldn't possibly-"

"No, it's no trouble. I insist." It may have been due to how gently Dean had said it, but she let her face fall and swallowed roughly before faintly nodding in answer, handing him her car keys.

"Thanks," her voice was small, full of emotion before she turned to her son and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Be good," she told him, turning away to climb into her car.

Dean spared one glance at Michael before his face fell as he faced Sam and Cordelia.

"We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?"

♰

Sam spared his best friend a short glance as he dialled Dean's number. Whilst Dean went to the hospital, Cordelia and Sam headed over to the library. After an hour, she was nearly asleep.

Sam rolled his eyes at her positioning ⸻ she sat, cheek resting in her palm, elbow on the table, eyes closed. The Winchester moved his arm as he held his phone to his ear and nudged her, causing her head to nearly drop and she inhaled deeply, eyes snapping open.

"Stop it," she grumbled, clearing her throat as she blinked a couple of times. "I just shut my eyes for a second, that's all."

"Yeah, okay," Sam huffed in disbelief. Just then, his phone clicked, and Dean's quiet voice spoke.

"Hey."

"Hey, how's the kid?"

"He's not good. Where you at?"

"We're at the library, trying to find out as much as we can about this Shtriga," Sam told his brother, giving Cordelia another harsh nudge as her head began to drop, she silently glared at him as he looked down at the research books in front of her and back over to her. With an eye-roll, she began flipping through the research.

"Yeah? Whaddya' got?"

"Well, bad news. I started with Fort Douglas around the time you said dad was there?" A faint yeah from Dean coaxed Sam to continue. "Same deal. Before that, there was, uh, Ogdenville, before that North Haverbrook, and Brockway. Every fifteen to twenty years it hits a new town. Dean, this thing is just getting started in Fitzburgh. In all these other places it goes on for months. Dozens of kids before the Shtriga finally moves on. The kids just... languish in comas and then they die."

"How far back does this thing go?"

"Ah, I don't know. The earliest mention I could find is this place called Black River falls back in the eighteen-nineties," he scoffed, shaking his head, Cordelia looked up at the computer screen in front of Sam and her brows furrowed. "Talk about horror show."

Just as the Winchester clicked off of the page and onto the next one, Cordelia leaned in closer and forced the mouse of out his hand. "Hey-"

She cut him off by shushing him as she flickered back to the previous page, "Shut up and take a look at that."

With an irritated glare, Sam did as told and his jaw dropped at what he saw, "Whoa."

"Sam?"

"Hold on. I'm looking at a photograph right now of a bunch of doctors standin' around a kid's bed. One of the doctors is Hydacker."

"And?"

Faintly hearing his voice through the phone, Cordelia pressed her face to the other side of the phone, ignoring Sam's attempt to bat her away as she spoke.

"And it was taken in eighteen-ninety-three."

"You sure?"

"Unless I started seeing things, I'd say yeah, I'm pretty sure," Cordelia told him with a nod, though he couldn't see it.

With that, Dean hung up.

Cordelia and Sam shared a look at that and packed up their things, hastily getting out of their seats, and rushing toward the exit.

"We should have thought of this before. A doctor's a perfect disguise. You're trusted, you can control the whole thing."

"That son of a bitch," Dean cursed, grumpily getting up from his place on the bed as he shrugged his jacket off, throwing it down onto the table, he began pacing the room.

"I'm just surprised you didn't shoot him there and then," Cordelia chimed in from her place on the bed, eyes shut and voice rough ⸻ she was tired as hell, laid out on the bed, ankles crossed over one another as she fought off sleep.

"Yeah, well, I'm not gonna open fire in a freakin' paediatrics ward," Dean told her harshly, she knew his attitude and frustration wasn't directed at her but she still huffed in annoyance.

"Good call," Sam nodded in agreement, leaning against the counter.

"Second, it wouldn't have done any good, bastard's bulletproof unless he's chowin' down on something, and third, I wasn't packin' which is probably a really good thing cause I would've just burned a clip in him on principle alone."

"You're getting wise in your old age, Dean," Sam spoke sarcastically, a small smile on his lips.

"You're damn right." Dean nodded to Sam's words, though he was more serious than his younger brother, he took a breath before facing them. "Cause now I know how we're gonna get it."

"What do you mean?" Sam frowned.

"The Shtriga ⸻ it works through siblings, right?"

"Right..." Cordelia trailed off, brows furrowed as she sat up, suddenly intrigued.

"Well, last night..." Dean left his words hanging, raising an eyebrow as he looked between the two.

"It went after Asher," Sam continued.

"So I'm thinkin' tonight it's probably gonna come after Michael."

"So we've gotta get him out of here," Cordelia spoke, getting up from the bed ⸻ Sam nodded, quick to agree. "Or at least, I don't know... watch over him, make sure it won't get a hold of him too."

"No," Dean shook his head almost immediately, Cordelia's face scrunched up at the tone. "No, that would blow the whole deal."

"What?" Sam scoffed, stepping away from his brother, physically shocked at his words.

"Yeah."

"Might be the tiredness making me crazy, but are you suggesting we use the kid as bait?" Cordelia pursed her lips at the mere thought, eyes scanning Dean up and down ⸻ he was tense, but he gave her a look that answered her question.

"Are you nuts?!" Sam snapped. "No, Forget it. That's out of the question."

"It's not out of the question, Sam. It's the only way; if this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance," Dean defended. He knew that it was risky, that it could turn sideways if they did this, but he needed to kill it. It was still alive because of him and he needed to deal with it.

"Michael's a kid, and I'm not gonna dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook," Sam continued to argue, arms wafting about in show of his irritation.

Dean looked towards Cordelia in the hope she'd agree, but she lightly shook her head, "I don't know, Dean, he's a kid, we can't use a kid like that."

Dean huffed and turned his attention back to Sam, "Dad did not send me here to walk away."

"Send you here? He didn't send you here. He sent us here," Sam pointed out, voice raising as his frustration grew.

Dean scoffed and turned away, "This isn't about you, Sam, alright? I'm the one who screwed up. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me."

"What are you saying, Dean? How is it your fault?" Sam's expression softened just the slightest as he stared at his brother's figure, he briefly met eyes with Cordelia, who couldn't help the sympathetic tug to her lips. "Dean?" He called out with a sigh, and reluctantly, the green-eyed hunter turned around. "You've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now, talk to me, man. Tell me what's going on."

Silently, Dean moved over to take a seat on the bed, forearms rested on his legs as he stared at the ground, taking a minute to answer. "Fort Douglas, Wisconsin. It was the third night in this crap room, and I was climbing the walls man, I needed to get some air... "

And so, he continued to tell Sam what had happened. How he had left to go get some air and ended up playing in the arcade game in reception before the owner told him they were closing up for the night.

How when he got back, the Shtriga was hovering over Sam. How he reached for the gun but froze and then, luckily, John came bursting through the door, gun in hand.

"Dad just grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, by the time he got back to Fort Douglas the Shtriga disappeared, it was just gone," the green-eyed man swallowed roughly, avoiding his brother's eye. "It never resurfaced until now. Dad never spoke about it again. I didn't ask. But he, uh... he looked at me different, you know, which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen, I almost got you killed."

"You were just a kid," Sam repeated those same words Cordelia had softly spoken earlier on, he made his way over to the bed and sat down beside his brother, moving to lift his hand to comfort him, but stopping himself ⸻ he knew Dean would only jerk away if he did.

"Don't. Don't," Dean's voice was quiet, yet hard ⸻ you could hear the pain, the vulnerability in the lone word. Cordelia felt a pang hit her heart, she thought she had gotten through to him, made him believe that it wasn't his fault, but she'd failed. Once something like this was in your head, it was hard to drive out. "Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it."

Sam slowly nodded along to the words that left his brother's mouth even though Dean wasn't looking at him. He just stared blankly at the ground. Sam lifted his head and met Cordelia's gaze, the two shared a look before the brunet's eyes flitted back over to his older brother, "But using Michael ⸻ I don't know, Dean. I mean, how about one of us hides under the cover? You know, we'll be the bait."

It was now that Dean finally averted his attention to Sam, he softly shook his head. "No, that won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed. It'll see us," he exhaled deeply, getting lost in his thoughts before he rose from the mattress. "Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid."

♰

Sam and Dean had headed out to talk to Michael, leaving Cordelia in the motel room to get some sleep. Despite his dampened mood, Dean had been on her ass about getting some shut eye, as he said. He wouldn't listen to her when she retorted the same, but he made sure she got her rest.

That was Dean for you, not looking out for himself but for everyone else.

Dean could admit that he cared for Cordelia, but he wouldn't admit he cared for her. Though, you have to be an idiot not to see it ( Cordelia; idiot ). He had a harder time accepting it. He thought it was risky, to date, hell, fall in love in this life. Plus, he knew after Carter that she didn't go for hunters. All her hook-ups since had been men she had met in bars, if she ran into another hunter it was a firm no from her.

Except Dean. Because she had kissed him. So, he knew that whatever it was she felt for him, was what he felt for her. But after everything that happened, he didn't know if she still did, and even then, the not knowing, he couldn't stop himself from doing the little things.

Things that confused her. It wasn't fair, but Dean was simply wired this way. He could act like he didn't feel anything, but he couldn't act like he didn't care, because he did, so damn much.

Michael's voice snapped Dean out of his thoughts. The young boy behind the desk in the motel office protectively held the phone up as he glared at the two men, but there was a flicker of fear that flashed in his eyes. "You're crazy," he spat. "Go away or I'm calling the cops."

"Hang on a second, just listen to me," Dean told the boy sternly, resting his forearms on the desk so that he lowered himself down to his height. "You have to believe me, okay? This thing came through the window and it attacked your brother. I've seen it. I know what it looks like 'cause it attacked my brother once, too."

Slowly, Michael put the phone down, tentatively looking up towards Dean, "This thing ⸻ is it, like... it has this long, black robe?"

Dean nodded to the boy's words, "You saw it last night, didn't you?"

Michael nodded and swallowed roughly, looking down at the ground as though he was embarrassed, "I thought I was having a nightmare."

"I'd give anything not to tell you this, but sometimes nightmares are real."

"So... why are you telling me?" Michael pulled a face, raising his eyebrows sceptically.

"Because we need your help," Dean answered after a moment of silence like he didn't want to respond, but he did.

"My help?" Michael questioned quickly, shock evident on his face as his eyebrows shot even further up his forehead.

"We can kill it, me, him and our friend. It's what we do," Dean told the boy, whose face only morphed into one of confusion. "But we can't do it without you."

"Wh- what? No," Michael stumbled on his words, veering away from the Winchesters, fear that had earlier been displayed on his face came back.

"Michael, listen to me. This thing hurt Asher, and it's gonna keep hurting kids unless we stop it. You understand me?"

Back in the motel room, the boys were quiet as Cordelia still laid asleep under the covers. Hair flailed about everywhere, mouth wide open, one arm tucked comfortably under her pillow whilst the other one wrapped around it.

Dragging his amused gaze from Cordelia, Dean looked towards Sam who sat on the edge of the free bed. "Well, that went crappy, now what?" Dean asked, voice lowered.

"What'd you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid," Sam replied, matching Dean's hushed tone.

A loud knock on the door had Cordelia jolting awake. The boys turned to face her, Sam just snickered in amusement at the sight of her messy hair. She blinked for a few seconds, trying to wake herself up properly.

"Go back to sleep, Cordelia," Dean spared her a glance as he made his way across the room.

"Well, I'm up now," she shot back, squinting her eyes at his retreating figure.

"A couple more hours won't hurt. Sleep," he insisted, sending her a stern look.

"Aw, you do care," she mocked as he turned away and rolled his eyes. Though she couldn't see his face she had a feeling he did that.

"Shurrup," he grumbled, pulling the door open.

There stood Michael, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. Cordelia, who now stood by the counter as she ran her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it, rose her eyebrows at the sight of the boy.

Whilst she slept, she missed a lot.

"If you kill it, will Asher get better?" Was the first thing to come out of Michael's mouth.

Dean turned, facing Sam and Cordelia in contemplation. He didn't know whether to lie to the boy or tell him the truth. After a moment, he opted for the latter, "Honestly, we don't know."

"You said you're a big brother."

"Yeah."

"You'd take care of your little brother?" Michael asked Dean. "You'd do anything for him?"

"Yeah, I would," Dean's voice lowered and Sam's face softened at his words.

"Me too," Michael told them, faintly nodding his head. "I'll help."

♰

As Dean set up the camera in Michael's room, Cordelia was tasked with preparing the boy. He looked to her for guidance and the brunette nibbled on her bottom lip, thinking for a moment, "Um, go lie down, act like you're going to sleep, okay?"

With a silent nod, Michael did as he was told. Lifting the bed sheets he climbed under the cover and awkwardly shifted into the middle of the bed.

"Did your mother never teach you not to talk to strangers?" Cordelia asked curiously, voice tinted with amusement. She didn't want him to think she was judging his mother.

"I live in a motel, I have to talk to strangers," he shot back, raising his eyebrows at her almost mockingly, but he couldn't shake down the fear that ran through his bones and Cordelia could see it, clear as day.

"Fair enough," she let out before her gaze softened, she took a hesitant glance over at the Winchester who was too focused on the camera before looking back down at Michael. "Are you sure you wanna do this? We can find another way."

He was silent for a moment until he spoke up. "Do you have a brother?" He asked her.

She hesitated, "Yeah, an older one."

"Well, being a brother means you protect your family, does he do that with you?"

"He does," she nodded. She wasn't about to tell this kid that her brother was dead. A small smile pulled at her lips at the thought of Adrian. "He used to, uh, beat up any boy that talked to me. My mom gave him hell for it 'cause he kept getting in trouble with the cops, but he still did it anyway, said that big brothers had to look after their little sisters. I always thought he was being a dick-"

"Language."

She rolled her eyes, but continued, "But now I'm older I understand. So, I get why you want to do this, I just want to make sure you're sure."

As much as Cordelia could go on about how she didn't like kids, how they annoyed her, she always managed to find a soft spot in her heart for them. Because the children she came across in this job were always so brave and she admired them for that.

"I'm sure," Michael nodded, in answer. Almost like he was reassuring her. Cordelia could've laughed. The twenty-four-year-old old being reassured by a thirteen-year-old.

Just then, Dean smiled to himself in accomplishment. Setting the camera up in the perfect position. His face staring right into the lens, Cordelia couldn't help but snicker. Sam was most likely getting some awfully striking angles of Dean right now.

"This camera has night vision on it so we'll be able to see clear as day," Dean explained to Michael, briefly turning to face the young boy. "Are we good?" He called out to Sam, who sat on speakerphone.

"Hair to the right," Sam instructed and Dean adjusted the camera. "There, there."

"What do I do if it shows up?" Michael asked, glancing between the pair.

"Well, we'll be right in the next room, we're gonna come in with guns, so as soon as we do, you roll off this bed and you crawl under it," Dean told him, moving to sit down on the edge of his bed.

"What if you shoot me?" Michael's face scrunched up at the mention of guns.

"I have, like, the best aim," Cordelia bragged a little too much, causing Dean to clear his throat and her wide smile dropped. "Don't worry. They're good shots, too. We won't fire until you're clear, okay?"

"Have you heard a gunshot before?" Dean went on to ask, a gentle tone to his voice.

"Like in the movies?" Michael rose his eyebrows and it reminded Cordelia just how young he was and that pit of dread filled her stomach once again.

"It's gonna be a lot louder than in the movies. So, I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears and do not come out until we so, you understand?"

Michael nodded slowly, fear in his eyes so clear. Dean met Cordelia's eyes for a moment before his gaze flitted down to Michael and he asked the boy the same question Cordelia had. "Michael, you sure you wanna do this?" When the boy didn't say anything for a long moment, Dean continued. "You don't have to, it's okay. I won't be mad."

"No, I'm okay," he nodded ferociously, a forced smile making its way onto his mouth. "Just don't shoot me."

"We're not gonna let anything happen to you. I promise," Dean told him, receiving another small nod from the boy. Like he couldn't get his words out. "We'll see you in a bit, okay?"

"Okay," Michael spoke gently, watching as Dean trailed over to the door, Cordelia following in toll. As Dean walked out of the room, Cordelia stopped in place and opened her mouth to speak, when Michael spoke up. "I'm sure, Cordelia. Go."

So with a soft smile and a nod she left the room.

Cordelia was on edge. Hours had flown by and so far, nothing. "What time is it?" Dean asked, blinking ferociously. They had been staring at the security camera feed on Sam's laptop for so long their eyes had begun to hurt.

"Three," Sam answered, checking his watch. "You sure these iron rods are gonna work?"

"Consecrated iron rounds, and yeah, it's what dad used last time," Dean nodded, to himself, crossing his arms over his chest as he lent back in his seat.

"Hey, Dean, I'm sorry," Sam said, not looking over at his brother, keeping his eyes glued onto the computer screen.

Dean's eyes flickered around in confusion, brows furrowed. "For what?" He asked, gruffly.

Sam let out a deep sigh, "I- uh, you know, I've really given you a lot of crap for always following dad's orders, but I know why you do it."

Dean looked away with a slight groan. "Oh, God, kill me now," he grumbled and Cordelia's lips tugged upwards at his remark.

"Aren't you two the cutest?" Cordelia taunted, rising from her seat as she crossed the room, grabbing her Juicy Couture jacket; she hadn't let it out of her sight ever since Sam's little prank in Texas.

"Shut up, Cordelia," Dean shot back, trying and failing to hide the smile on his lips. Which only made Sam smile brighter.

What a pair of idiots, the youngest Winchester thought to himself as he watched his brother and his best friend exchange smiles. Longing looks in their eyes. He was this close to banging their heads together, hoping that it would get them to talk about how they felt.

When Dean looked away, he pursed his lips in an attempt to hide the smile that was practically tattooed on his face. When he saw the expression painted across Sam's features, it dropped. The green-eyed hunter cleared his throat and averted his gaze to the laptop, once again as Cordelia took her seat after zipping her jacket up.

"Wait, look," Dean's face hardened as he leant forward, trying to get a closer look at the camera feed.

The three huddled as close as they could around the laptop, eyes squinted as they watched a long, bony hand ( though it looked more like a stick ) tap against the glass of the window.

It reached down and pulled it open. The three reached for their guns, cocking them. Cordelia held hers tightly and looked towards Dean, "Now?"

"Not yet," he insisted.

Brown, worried eyes watched the screen; Michael sat in bed, cowering as the large figure in black robes stood across from him. As it got closer, the computer screen began to glitch out.

In the bedroom, Michael stared, wide-eyed at the creature as it slowly made its way over to him. A low, eerie whisper floated around the room, making the boy freeze in place.

The Shtriga moved closer and leaned over the bed, opening his mouth; starting to draw from Michael's energy and that's when the door flew open.

"Michael, down!" Dean yelled out towards the boy and he did exactly that. Throwing his body off of the mattress, he rolled under the bed, using his hands to cover his ears just like Dean had said.

The trio began shooting the Shtriga multiple times each until it fell to the ground, and smoke floated around the room, causing a cough to fall from Cordelia's lips.

"You okay, Michael?" She asked loud enough so the young boy could hear, a faint yeah was heard from under the bed.

"Just sit tight," Dean instructed as he slowly rounded the bed, making his way over to the fallen Shtriga. When the creature didn't move, Dean mistakenly took his eyes off it, facing Sam he opened his mouth to say something when he choked on his words.

The Shtriga's bony fingers wrapped around Dean's neck tightly, fingertips sure to leave bruising. He held him tightly for a moment before throwing him across the room ⸻ the Winchester crashing into Michael's shelves.

Cordelia and Sam called out Dean's name desperately, but the former was cut off as the creature made a beeline for her. Like it did Dean, bony fingers wrapped around her neck before she was thrown, back harshly colliding with a bookshelf.

The Moore cried out in pain but used what little strength she had left to army crawl towards her gun; which had fallen out of her hand in the commotion. Sam was the next to be attacked, though this time, he was thrown to the ground, the Shtriga on top of him, hands around his neck.

The Shtriga's mouth opened, beginning to draw energy from Sam. Cordelia's heart sped up in panic as she tried to rush to get her gun in time, but luckily, Dean's voice distracted it. "Hey!"

Giving her just enough time, she held her gun in hand and sent a single bullet between its eyes. The creature fell backwards, leaving Sam gasping for air.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean called out to his brother, lifting his hand to wipe the line of blood that ran down the side of his face.

Sam simply lifted both hands in the air and put his thumbs up.

Cordelia snickered as she pushed herself up from the ground, chest heaving up and down as she caught her breath. The energy the Shtriga stole began to escape from its mouth, white wisps left its mouth, travelling across the air slowly.

Dean rose his gun, shooting it three more times ⸻ anger in his eyes as he looked down at the monster.

"It's okay, Michael, you can come on out," Dean spoke, voice pained, vulnerable. Seventeen years this had been on his mind. Seventeen years of self-loathing. Seventeen years of blaming himself and it was finally over.

"You okay?" Cordelia asked Michael as the young boy crawled out from under the bed, she hid a wince not wanting to freak him out even more.

Too stunned to speak, Michael merely nodded in answer, a tentative smile on his lips. Dean glanced down at the boy and put his hand on his shoulder, smiling back down at him.

In the silence, no one noticed Cordelia slip out of the room. But they did hear her return a few seconds later. It seemed Cordelia had gone ruffling around the storage cupboard and found a hoover and toolbox.

The Winchesters frowned at the sight of her. "Sam, fix that bookshelf, okay? I'll vacuum. I'm not having his mom come back to this, I mean, there's that... thing's ashes... it's a mess."

Sam rolled his lips into his mouth, great, the control freak in her was coming out.

If Sam had one complaint about his best friend, it was how anal she would get when it came to cleaning. She didn't like to clean, but when she did it had to be perfect.

Sam scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest, "What? And Dean doesn't have to do anything-"

"Dean doesn't clean how I clean," she shrugged it off, missing the eldest Winchester's smug smile as she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows, crouching down by the remains of the Shtriga. "But, he can find me a trash bag. Holy, hell, this place, oh my god-"

♰

After they cleaned and fixed what they could, the three hunters headed back to their rooms to get as much sleep as possible, and the hours flew by, bringing them to where they were now. Packing up the car, ready to leave.

Just then, Dean spotted Michael's mom getting out of her SUV, head flailing about as if she was looking for something or someone.

"Hey, Joanna, how's Asher doing?" Dean asked the woman, slowly approaching her.

"Have you seen Michael?" She was quick to ask, ignoring his question.

"Mom! Mom!" Like he heard his name, the blonde boy came running out of reception, straight into his mother's arms.

"Hey," she greeted him with a large smile, wrapping her arms around him.

"How's Ash?" He immediately asked his mother once they pulled away.

"I've got some good news, your brother's gonna be fine," she told him, holding his face in her hands affectionately before she looked away, addressing the others. "No one can explain it, it ⸻ it's a miracle. They're going to keep him in overnight for observation and then he's coming home."

"That's great," Cordelia smiled over at Joanna.

"How are all the other kids doin'?" Sam asked her, taking a step toward her.

"Good, real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr, Travis says the ward's gonna be like a ghost town."

"Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Hydacker?" Sam asked her, briefly meeting Cordelia's eye.

They knew what happened to Dr. Hydacker because Cordelia put a bullet between his eyes.

"Oh, he wasn't in today. He must have been sick or something."

"Yeah, yeah, must have," Dean nodded along to her words.

Joanna gave him a small smile before turning back to her son, lifting her hand to his head as she brushed back his hair, "So, did anything happen while I was gone?"

"No, uh, same old stuff," Michael told his mother, a lie smoothly falling from his mouth.

"Okay," she breathed out before her smile widened. "You can go see Ash."

"Now?" An excited look crossed the blond boy's face.

"Mhm. Only if you want to."

Michael didn't bother giving his mom an answer as he raced over to the car, pulling the passenger side door open.

"I, uh, better get going before he hot-wires the car and drives himself."

With that, the three waved bye before turning back to the Impala, Dean slammed the trunk shut once he shoved the last few things into the back.

"It's too bad," Sam sighed as he rounded the car, stopping by the passenger side.

"No, they'll be fine," Dean called out over the car, sending Sam a quick look as he reached for the door handle.

"That's not what I meant," Sam sighed, resting his forearms on the top of the car. "I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark. He'll never be the same, you know? Sometimes I wish that..." Sam trailed off with a scoff.

"What?"

"I wish I could have that kind of innocence."

Turning to watch Michael and his mom drive away, Dean slowly nodded and inhaled deeply.

"If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could, too."

Author's Note! 14k+
who would be a good faceclaim as cordelia's brother and mum?? ALSO if anyone was wondering I imagine her juicy jacket to be like the one elena wore in s1 of tvd, i like the colour lmao

sorry this one took a while, i've lost my flipping glasses and im blind as shit so it literally pained me to write this

and for those of you missing carter, don't worry he's back next chapter and for those of you that don't miss him, you're all gonna be so grateful he is back!!!

we need a nickname that only dean can call cordy, what should it be???