— 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝟐, 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏𝟐 —

MILWAUKEE WAS A MESS. By the time they stepped out of the chopper, a few more S.W.A.T. cars rushed past them, turning onto the street that the bank was undoubtedly located on. To make matters worse, Lila had grown visibly pale compared to the moment they left the ground.

Tess gently placed a hand on her sister's shoulder to get her attention before leaning close to whisper her concerns. "Are you alright?"

Although Lila's face was twisted with a grimace and her eyes were closed, she nodded her head. "Y-yeah... just a bit motion sick. You know how I feel about flying."

Tess nodded her head in agreement. "Don't look now, but Sir-stick-up-his-ass is approaching."

Lila concealed her laughter by covering her mouth with her hand as she opened her eyes once she'd gotten some much needed fresh air.

Henriksen crossed his arms as he stood in front of the agents gathered around. It was no surprise that Groves had put him in charge since the Deputy Director, for some reason unbeknownst to the others, actually liked the agent. Although it certainly didn't seem like it at times as Henriksen was degraded to menial field work or long hours of recording files.

"Listen up," Henriksen commanded before relaying another set of instructions, "We move in quickly before we lose the trail."

It was implicitly understood what he meant as standard procedure was ingrained in each of their minds. Henriksen cast one last glance over his shoulder almost as if dreading his next decision. "Watson. Holmes. You're with me."

A smug look crossed Tess's face as she nudged Lila before stepping up beside Henriksen. "I almost thought you were going to purposefully leave us out of the action."

Henriksen rolled his eyes. "Whatever personal issues we have with one another can be set aside long enough to recognize that you're good agents and do what's necessary to get the job done."

"I'm blushing," Tess snipped playfully before punching Henriksen's shoulder to reinstate their small competitive feud. She walked ahead toward the command center, a less than inconspicuous van parked in the middle of the road, and just barely managed to catch the end of the conversation between officers as she approached.

"Crap," one of the officers muttered under his breath.

The detective beside him looked over in confusion. "What?"

The officer gestured vaguely with his head toward the additional uniformed agents that approached. "The Feds are here."

"Oh, crap," the detective agreed with the officer's sentiments.

Tess allowed one of the lower-ranking agents to pass so that she might not have to deal with the drama of conflicting power dynamics amongst boys.

It almost looked like a confrontation could be avoided as the mousy, bespectacled agent entered first. The moment passed as Henriksen entered and immediately took command of the room. "Lieutenant Robards."

Less than thrilled, the detective nodded his head and acknowledged that he'd been addressed. "Yeah."

"Special Agent Henriksen," he introduced himself.

"Let me guess." Robards sighed, then crossed his arms. "You're lead dog now, but you would just love my full cooperation."

Henriksen scoffed but his expression remained stoic. "I don't give a rat's ass what you do, you can go get a donut and bang your wife for all I care. What I do need is your S.W.A.T. team locked and loaded."

"Listen, Agent," Robards tried to remain respectful of those in higher power even though the facade was clearly forced, "Something's not right about this. It's, um... it's not going down like a usual heist."

"That's because it isn't one. You have no idea what you're dealing with, do you?" Henriksen asked rhetorically. "There is a monster in that bank, Robards."

Lila smirked and Tess immediately understood why. There were several elements of their lives that they kept private. First, their relationship to one another as sisters. They'd adopted the surnames Holmes and Watson to protect their own identities and the identities of their family following the tragedy of their mother.

Second, the rumors of the monster living under your bed were true. It was just a much darker tune than a little old bedtime story. But just because you know something is true doesn't mean you tell the whole neighborhood. Sometimes cooperation is stronger when the victim doesn't know every detail. So while the FBI took up much of their time, the sisters had an unpaid side-gig they liked to call the family business: monster hunting.

While a bank robbery was bad, and a stick-up was even worse, the sisters understood that the likelihood of there actually being a monster inside that bank was extremely low... but of course never zero.

"Have you made contact yet?" Henriksen asked.

Robards's expression twisted. "Hardly long enough to send for medical support."

"Someone's hurt?" Lila asked, a look of concern spreading across her face.

Robards shook his head. "The security guard started to have a heart attack but it was handled in time."

"That's great," Henriksen retorted heavily with sarcasm. "Now will somebody around here actually do their job and get me a damn phone?"

Although harsh, the officers clearly understood the message and scrambled around the interior of the small command center. As the dial tone rang, Tess started to believe that whoever was on the other end of the line might never pick up. She was proven wrong as a deep, irritated southern tone answered the call.

"Yeah?"

"This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen," he introduced himself for the second time that day.

Tess took a seat beside Robards and took the pair of headphones lying on the desk in front of him. Without hesitation, and ignoring his complaints, she slipped the pair over her ears to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"Yeah, listen, I'm not really in the negotiating mood right now, so—"

"Good," Henriksen interrupted. "Me neither. It's my job to bring you in. Alive's a bonus but not necessary."

"Whoa." The voice on the other end of the call released a strained, but almost amused chuckle. "Kinda harsh for a Federal Agent, don't you think?"

"Well, you're not the typical suspect, are you, Dean?" Henriksen asked. The line was suddenly silent and Tess could only imagine the slack-jawed expression on the other side. Henriksen didn't flinch. "I want you and Sam out here, unarmed. Or we come in. And yes, I know about Sam too. Bonnie to your Clyde."

Not a bad comparison, but she'd keep that thought to herself. Even Dean couldn't refute his point. "Yeah, well, that part's true, but how'd you even know we were here?"

"Go screw yourself, that's how I knew," Henriksen retorted. Tess frowned at how easily he'd lost his composure. There was something about this case specifically that had struck a chord and she intended to figure it out before it started affecting others. "It's become my job to know about you, Dean. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis, I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad."

Dean's tone turned dark. "Hey, you don't know crap about my dad."

Henriksen intended to prove him wrong. "Ex-marine, raised his kids on the road, cheap motels, backwood cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to."

"You got no right talking about my dad like that," Dean snapped, "He was a hero."

"Yeah. Right. Sure sounds like it." Henriksen scoffed before he extended what almost sounded like a deal, "You have one hour to make a decision or we come through those doors full automatic."

There was a gentle click and the call ended as Henriksen hung up the phone. Tess removed the headphones before directing her attention toward Henriksen, waiting for orders.

"You'll fill me in later?" Lila whispered as she saddled up alongside her sister. Tess nodded her head without hesitation but kept her eyes trained on Henriksen.

"Scramble your men," Henriksen instructed, "five minutes, then we go in."

"What?" Robards questioned. "Henriksen, they've let out one hostage so far. They've hurt no one as far as we can tell."

"You don't know these Winchesters," Henriksen insisted. "They're dangerous, smart, and expertly trained."

Robards shook his head. "We can't risk the lives of all those people."

Henriksen emphasized that his command wasn't optional, but he did at least try to help the detective understand what was at stake. "Trust me, Dean's a greater risk to 'em than we are."

"This is crazy," Robards muttered.

"Crazy's in there," Henriksen contradicted. "And I just hung up on it."

Five minutes passed. Tess had become distracted by her own thoughts though. There was something nagging at the back of her mind, something that didn't feel right about the whole thing. However, she wasn't given enough time to come to a conclusion as Henriksen signaled for his specialized agents to gather round.

Tess released a shaky breath to calm her mind before joining the other agents. She remained mostly unfocused as Henriksen relayed his instructions, but she understood the gist of the matter. She'd been through situations just like this over a dozen times before, so this was certainly nothing new... or at least she thought that was the case.

Sticking side-by-side, Lila and Tess carefully made their way down the hall of the bank, weapons raised and readied. The other agents around them checked each additional room calling out "clear" as they moved along.

It didn't take long to find the first body, and she immediately ran through the mental checklist in her head of observing the most notable features for her report later. Male. African American. Had probably been dead over an hour.

"Poor guy," Lila muttered just so that Tess could hear.

The officer that entered the room beside them didn't share her sympathy as he informed Henriksen of their discovery. "Male, African American. Goner."

It was only once the second body was found that Tess finally realized why a pit had formed in her stomach. She closed her eyes and grimaced for just a second before following Henriksen into the room.

"I'm telling you, man," one of the other officers explained to his partner, "I just walked her out of the bank. She must have a twin sister or something."

Lila leaned closer to whisper, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"That we don't know all the details here?" Tess rhetorically asked without actually providing her sister with the satisfying answer she'd asked for. She did nod her head though. "Yeah..."

"We are—well were—dealing with a shapeshifter though, right?" Lila questioned under her breath.

Tess sighed and nodded her head. "Sure looks like it."

"Are you gonna call dad?" Lila asked.

"What is this, twenty questions?" Tess retorted. "Call him about what? A case that's already been solved?"

"Well maybe he knows something about these Winchesters," Lila suggested.

Tess allowed a beat of silence to pass before she shook her head. "No, it's just a run-of-the-mill operation. They probably didn't even realize they had a shifter on their hands. Probably killed it by accident... besides, their handiwork is far too sloppy for hunters. I mean, you saw the trail of bodies that followed everyplace they've been since St. Louis, not to mention those that are still unrecorded."

Lila had that look in her eye that a lot of younger siblings did when looking at their idols. Tess both adored and hated that look as she'd do anything in the world to keep it, but also understood the mounting pressure should she ever fail. Older sister knew best, and the younger trusted that judgement wholeheartedly.

"Sir?" Another officer approached from behind, standing at attention as he spoke with Henriksen. The sisters turned to eavesdrop better. "My team said it's secure. They're gone."

"You tell your team to tear it apart!" Henriksen demanded. "The ducts, the ceilings, the furnace, everything."

The officer sheepishly shook his head. "I don't think that's necessary."

Henriksen frowned. "Why not?"

Hesitant, as if his job was on the line, the officer led Henriksen back to a broom closet at the end of the hall. The sisters followed closely behind, knowing that no one would tell them off when Henriksen was so close to losing his composure. Inside the closet, two men were stripped to their undergarments and handcuffed back-to-back on the floor.

Henriksen nodded in chagrin and frustration, but said nothing. He lifted a hand in the air and signaled for the agents to finish making their rounds before he exited the building himself.

"I am not looking forward to that flight back to D.C.," Lila noted as her eyes remained on Henriksen. "He was touchy before, now... I don't even want to imagine how tense it's going to be."

"How about a road trip?" Tess suddenly suggested out of the blue, not really transitioning between the conversation.

"Huh?" Lila's brow twisted in confusion.

"A road trip," Tess repeated. "We take a few 'vacation days' and do some more in depth research on these Winchester boys."

Lila seemed to consider the option before extending another question, "Hasn't the trail gone cold?"

Tess scoffed. "We're hunters by instinct, Lil. When has there ever been something we couldn't track?"

An amused smile pulled at Lila's lips as she giggled in agreement. "Anything is bound to be better than two hours in a confined space with Henriksen."

"You know that's right," Tess laughed in agreement. "So it's settled then, the Singer Sisters are back in business."

Had they chosen to ignore their instincts and flown back to D.C., perhaps they could have avoided years of problems to come. For what they failed to realize is that the Winchesters had a curse to their name, which often led to one disaster worse than the last. But had they chosen a different path, they would have also missed out on the greatest hunt of their lives.

Driving down the interstate in a "borrowed" 1967 Ford Galaxie 500, the sisters leaned back in their seats and sang "Renegade" by Styx at the top of their lungs as it played on the radio, unaware that they were relishing in one of their few remaining moments of pure, blissful happiness.