Part 5: From Bad To Worse

"So go ahead, kid," Dean said as he, Sasha, and Leven gathered around a few of the expensive looking teal seats in one corner of the auditorium. It humored Dean that they were the exact wrong shade of blue-green to go with Leven's hair. "Cam said you've been pretty helpful. Wanna fill us in on what you know?" Dean had to hand it to the kid; he seemed completely relaxed despite what they were going to be talking about.

"Well…I wasn't at the school for all of the deaths," Leven started in, "But the third one, Kat Loring? I was with Amy when she found her."

So Leven knew at least one other person who had found a body. "Was this Amy there when any of the other bodies were found?" Dean asked. That would certainly narrow things down. They could always be dealing with a witch.

"I'm pretty sure not," Leven said with an awkward, unsure smile, "Seeing as how I'm talking about Amy Harrington. She died three days after Kat. Kind of takes her off the wanted list, I'm thinking."

Damn it. So much for Sam and Dean's theory that the killer might be returning to the scene of the crime each time. Dean tried not to show any frustration on his face though. There had to be a lead waiting to be followed somewhere. "Okay, so whatever got the jump on these girls and the others made pretty scarce right after," Dean reiterated towards Sasha, like passing and keeping mental notes to go over later.

Sasha nodded back to him and then turned to Leven. "Did you notice anything peculiar about the scene or the body when you found it?" he asked, "Marks? Symbols? Anything out of the ordinary? You know, the kind of things the police might have snubbed their noses at?" He grinned as he said that and Dean couldn't help sharing the expression. If he had a penny for every time deniability cost lives, well, then he wouldn't be forced to eat those disgusting gas station sandwiches so often.

"The weird thing wasn't the body," Leven began. That made Dean and Sasha both lean in a little closer. Leven then immediately hushed his voice, even though the only other people in the auditorium were on the stage several yards away. "See, I started thinking back on it, and people have been acting really…strange around the show. At first I thought, well, sure, people keep dying. But the thing is the people who have been acting the strangest are the ones who keep ending up dead."

Bingo. "And when you say 'strange'…?" Sasha pressed.

"Just kinda…off, ya know? And right before they died I noticed that they were all really scared about something, like maybe they knew. Do you think it could be something that feeds on fear? Or maybe a ghost that gives the whole 'Seven days'," Leven said in a deep, meant-to-be-creepy voice, "Like a warning or something. And that's why they were freaked." He searched both Dean and Sasha's faces for confirmation.

Actually, there were several possibilities that sprang to Dean's mind after hearing that. There was at least one creature Dean knew of that fed off fear, and quite a few that liked to 'warn' their victims beforehand. "Well, I can tell ya it's no ghost," Dean said to Leven, "But you might have set us on the right track. Anything else?"

Leven shook his head. "I basically told Cam the same thing, and showed him where all the deaths happened. He was hoping for the ghost idea though. Easier to take care of, he said."

"If you know where to find the bones," Dean shrugged.

Much as this entire conversation had been about not so normal things, Leven's large brown eyes widened and gaped at Dean to hear that. The dark color of those eyes made a pretty cool contrast to his hair, Dean thought. "So this is really for real?" Leven said, like maybe he thought they had been playing some kind of game, "I mean I figured as much, ya know, but…you're really like demon hunters or something and it's not just a homicidal teenager we're dealing with but an honest to god supernatural thing?"

Part of Dean wanted to laugh, or maybe plaster on his smug, 'yeah, that's right, I'm awesome' smile, but Leven wasn't just in sci fi geek wonderment here, the kid was also kind of freaked. It was such a perfect blend—the awe and the freaked out—that Dean kind of wanted to show his serious face. Light as he always tried to make of his life, what he did was a serious business when innocent lives got mixed in—which they always did.

Sasha seemed to be thinking the same thing, because even though the incubus was smiling, Dean could hear the no nonsense tone to his voice when he spoke.

"This is all very real, Leven. Normally, we'd try to convince you it was just your imagination, that we're just regular PIs and nothing abnormal is happening. But since you already know the truth and can probably help us out, we'll level with you." Sasha leaned in even closer than they already were which had his and Leven's faces inches apart. Dean saw how Leven blushed at Sasha being so close. "Saying 'supernatural thing' is the nice way of putting it. This could be something really dangerous. But me and Dean and his brother Sam, taking care of this stuff is what we do. Ghost hunters. Demon hunters. Whatever you want to call us. We're hunters, and we're gonna figure this out. Does it scare you to know that all that goes bump in the night is really out there somewhere?"

Leven's cheeks flushed a little redder as he stared back into Sasha's bright and brilliant blues. "Nah, I already kind of figured," he said, "And hey, as long as you got the good to go with the bad, I say bring it on. You're the big guns right?" he winked at both Sasha and Dean, "Don't mind me if I'm a little hysterical on occasion what with all the 'people in the musical keep dying from some supernatural thing and I'm the lead in the show so that probably makes me a huge target'. Heh. I'll just stay really close to you two. Okay?" Much as Leven intended for that to be one of his flirts it came off a little more desperate and terrified sounding.

Reaching across both of them to get a hand on Leven, Dean gave the kid's leg a good firm pat. "Yeah, about that," he said, "Would you mind making scarce for a bit. We need to talk some of this stuff over and it's not that we don't trust you but…you'll probably be happier if you don't overhear the details."

A shade of panic overtook Leven's blush when Dean first said for him to go away, but he understood and obviously agreed with Dean since he didn't really protest in the end. "Sure. But I'll be right over in that other corner by the piano. Gotta get ready for practice tonight anyway. I'm totally messing up one of my songs and Lars is gonna kill me if I'm jumping all over the place again."

"Lars?" Dean repeated, saying it with a very harsh sounding 'z' at the end.

"Lars," Leven said back, grinning and putting a softer 's' on the end instead, "You know, meaning Mrs. Larson. She's the theatre goddess around here. The music director. I definitely wasn't talking Lars from Metallica. God, full of himself much? I totally have all their albums torrented, thank you. Let me know when I can come over and bug you again, okay?" And then with a flash of white teeth and the blush fading to Leven's usual easygoing charm—if a little forced sometimes, Dean thought—the kid was up and off to the other side of the auditorium.

Dean blinked after Leven for a few moments and then turned back to look at Sasha, who seemed to be expecting something since he was already smirking at him. "Did he just insult my idol?" Dean asked matter-of-factly.

Indeed, the smirk twitched and Sasha let out a small bark of a laugh. "Only a little. The guy is a little possessive, you have to admit that."

Lars Ulrich? Possessive? Dean decided not to comment. "Uh huh. So what the hell's 'torrented' mean?"

"Dean," Sasha laughed a little harder, "Quarry at hand, remember? Maybe we should stick to the issue. You said you didn't find anything with the tactile digging around right? Well, I got pretty much swamped down here. Mostly with useless tall tails, like we figured, but we better go over all of it before we settle on anything. Though I'm sure you're thinking the same thing I am at this point."

"Night Hag," Dean nodded, "A fear vampire. Cousin of yours maybe?" he snarked.

"Very funny," Sasha scowled. Then his eyebrows knit together and he looked absolutely indignant. "Well…kind of. But only in the demon sense and needing to feed off something intangible from humans to survive. They are nothing near fae. They're supposed to be even more extinct than vampires."

"Yeah," Dean said with a sarcastic lilt, "And you know how extinct they are. Hags are just better at blending in and keeping off the radar. What else you got? If ya wanna cover all bases."

Sasha released a long exhausted sounding sigh, sat back in his chair, and pulled out a small notebook from his jacket. He flipped it open and turned it to face Dean. The thing was completely covered in writing. "It's a theatre, Dean. The building may be new, compared to most anyway, but it still carries the usual stories. Catwalk's haunted. Dance director's a witch. Cursed props," Sasha read off his notepad, "I mean, it gets pretty ridiculous. Leven's lead is a lot better. That kind of demonic influence and considering Night Hags aren't your typical demon is probably why Sam wouldn't be able to sense them. He's still learning how to hone in on different demonic things, like…well, me. That could come in handy, me not being the only one who can sense another incubus or succubus around. Eventually, Sam might be able to sense…pretty much anything not human…" Sasha trailed off as he said that.

"Don't think too hard on it," Dean cut in, "Sammy can't read our minds quite yet, thank god. But he's damn near it. Just so long as he doesn't overstep anymore bounds. The mojo thing is totally unfair." Dean grit his teeth to think about it. He still hadn't really forgiven Sam for the 'Shoot me, Dean' he had pulled when they were facing Kubrick. That just wasn't something he could let slide. It would take at least a couple years of Sam getting on his good side to counter that.

"Sounds like we have a pretty good lot to cross-reference with Sam then," Sasha said, "And maybe if he knows more specifically what we're hunting he'll have an easier time sensing it. Oh," Sasha laughed as if he had just remembered something and gestured back to his notebook, "You have to read some of this. There was this one kid, convinced the football coach is behind everything because of…" But Dean didn't hear whatever Sasha said next. He was distracted by the sudden eruption of voice from Leven's corner of the auditorium. It was accompanied by choppy piano, but the singing carried over loud and clear.

We all lead

such elaborate lives
We don't know

whose words are true
An affair of the heart survives
All the pain

this world can do

Leven didn't need good accompaniment. His voice filled the whole of the auditorium. Dean hadn't even noticed the singing at first but Leven had reached some great climax with that part of the song and it was awesome, even if all the kid was doing was warming up.

Sasha had a beautiful voice, perfect for a lot of different styles, especially Frank and that Bublé guy that sang 'Everything'. But Leven had pipes. The musical fan inside Dean—the one that rarely admitted its existence for fear of being shot—fluttered somewhere low at the back of his spine. One thing Dean never denied was that he loved good music, especially when that included a good, talented singer.

"That's not from 'Once on this Island'. Good song though," Sasha nodded, "Dean?" he said more playfully then, poking Dean in the side. It had the desired effect of making Dean squirm. "Oh, I see that far away, dreaming of Gene Kelly look, you closet show-tunes freak," the incubus grinned, "You can't fool me."

"Shut up," Dean shot back after having been so rudely ripped from his reverie, "There's no shame in show-tunes. It takes a real man to sing and dance like that in front of so many people. Insulting Gene Kelly would be like telling Batman he's a sissy for wearing tights. So can the wisecracks. I like any music if it's good. Even country. On occasion. Very. Rare. Occasions. So…so just shut up already and come on," Dean finally growled, standing and smacking Sasha in the shoulder, "Let's have Leven show us those death sites. See if our theory's right or not."

The incubus didn't know how lucky he was that he understood when Dean was at his limits. Sasha nodded, his laughter fading, and he followed Dean over in the direction of Leven and the piano. There was a girl with Leven now and sadly that strong baritone was no longer sailing.

The girl, who had to be one of those freshmen 'kind of' friends of Leven's, looked rather distraught. Leven seemed to be trying to cheer her up.

"Come on, Andy. Be my Aida," Leven was saying as Dean and Sasha approached, "That part's always better as a duet."

'Andy', which Dean guessed was probably an Andrea, shook her head. She was short but fairly full-figured. Cute, in a too young, too blonde kind of way. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was, but it didn't seem to be because of Leven. "Not now, Lev. Okay?" she said, "I'm just trying to find Lars so I can tell her I'm going home. I don't…think I'm gonna be at practice tonight. Sorry." She started backing away like the piano had to be possessed or something, and ended up backing right into Dean. She choked back a screech.

"Careful there," Dean said. He tried to sound soothing and suave when he went to grab her shoulders, but she shrugged away from him and immediately backed off further.

"I…I have to go," she stammered, and then the girl was racing for the double doors, making a wide arc around Sasha and Dean.

Dean shrugged after she had gone and looked to Sasha. "Am I that repulsive? Be honest," he said mock-seriously.

Of course Sasha just laughed and shook his head. Leven was the one who gestured after Andy, looking frustrated and concerned. "Andy's been pretty freaked since Miss Hammil," Leven explained. Dean remembered that Miss Hammil, one of the teachers who helped with costuming, had been the first victim. "More deaths means more freakage. For everyone. Andy even snapped at me the other day and she's usually little miss sunshine. It's really starting to get to everyone."

Which was probably exactly what the creature wanted, whatever it was. It made Dean worry for Andy too. If they were really dealing with a Night Hag then the increase in overall fear had to be tantalizing. Anyone could be a potential victim. And these things were like regular vampires; unless they were feeding, they looked just like everyone else.

Thankfully, Leven was more than willing to show Sasha and Dean to the places where all of the victims had died. Night Hags left a certain residue behind that would be easier to see if they had an EMF meter but that just might be detectable by the naked eye. It was almost as potent as ectoplasm, but looked and felt more like black powder.

There was a brief moment where Dean thought some soot he found up on the catwalk might be some of that residue, but it was definitely just soot. They didn't find any real evidence of a Night Hag anywhere, but then it had been several days since the last death.

After about an hour, Leven had to return to class. He went reluctantly, promising to meet up with them again later when they went to see his sister. Leven only had early practice tonight, so he'd be running home quick after school, and then back for about an hour before he joined them again. The plan was to meet Wade at her place of work as soon as Sam and Cam—Dean really hated that—met up with them in the parking lot after school.

The waiting game filled most of the rest of their day, making it ooze by. Sasha and Dean had talked with everyone involved in the show that was still breathing. Most of their afternoon ended up with them in the library researching on school computers. At least there weren't any blockers. Sasha actually got online with something called 'AIM' and was messaging Sam back and forth to fill him in until they met up. Dean thought it was pointless, since they could just text or call, but it did make it easier to send off website links.

Finally, at 3:40pm on the nose, Dean was roused from near-dozing as the bell—more like an electronic beeping noise—sounded to let the students know they were free for the day. He and Sasha had managed to accomplish quite a bit, including a list of everyone who had stumbled upon bodies and the general state of everyone who died before they were found. Leven had been right—they were all terrified, like marked victims, which still pointed towards a Night Hag as far as Dean was concerned.

They had several different things to go over when they finally found Sam in the parking lot. He had taken public transportation since Dean and Sasha had the Impala. Poor mook, Dean thought.

"Let's go over that list of who found the bodies first," Sam said after he, Sasha and Dean had been talking for awhile out by the car, "Might be some leads there, even if the creature isn't among them. We'll keep looking into Night Hags too. Maybe Cam's girl Wade has something on that. You never know." Sam shrugged, but Dean knew how Sam felt about people who thought they were into the occult. It was the same thing Dean thought and was expressed best with a long, loud groan. Then again maybe this chick wasn't just another amateur. The Winchesters certainly knew real life psychics, soothsayers, and communers with the dead. But more than likely she was just some Hot Topic shopping goth chick with nice tits.

"I'm getting' antsy," Dean admitted, "Something about this one's getting to me. Where's Cam at?" he said, looking at his watch.

It had been almost ten minutes and Sasha had said that Cam was usually pretty punctual. "Maybe he's waiting inside. I can't remember if we specified or not. I'll run check quick," Sasha offered, "You two stay here in case he shows." Sasha ran off towards the buildings again, leaving Sam and Dean alone.

They had the Impala parked way out in the far corner of the lot by the side of one of the buildings. Dean did not want to risk some teeny-bopper dinging his baby. There were only a handful of cars anywhere near them. "So, be honest," Dean grinned at his brother with a good buck in the shoulder. They were both leaning back against the side of the car. "You were bored stiff being on police report duty all alone in that hotel room. Either that or how you kept yourself entertained is so not something I need to hear about."

Sam rolled his eyes and bucked Dean right back. "I did not surf for porn. Or watch any on Pay-per-View," he added quickly since Dean in all honesty had been about to comment on that possibility next, "And it was actually nice getting some alone time away from you two lovebirds constantly making out and trying to feel each other up when I'm asleep in the next bed. Of course if I had to go it alone everyday…"

"You'd rather have a spike driven into your head?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Sam smirked, and then very subtly added the endearment of, "Jerk."

Dean just had to grin in reply to that. "Whatever, Bitch," he shot right back, "You know you think I'm awesome." Dean dusted his knuckles over the collar of his jacket as overly dramatic as he could make it. "Oh," he said then, just remembering, "And speaking of me being awesome, I found something earlier. There's this entry in Dad's journal I wanted you to—" Dean had been about to reach into his jacket pocket but Sam's hand on his arm stopped him. Dean looked over and saw that Sam seemed to be straining to hear something in the direction of the building nearest them.

"Something's going on," Sam said assuredly, "I hear something. I think someone's being attacked." Grabbing Dean's arm rather harshly, Sam took off for the building, pulling Dean along after him a few steps before racing on ahead.

Dean stumbled a little at the forced movement but tried to keep up as he ran after his brother. "Geez, Sammy," he called, "The psychic stuff is one thing, but these super-senses are just unfair." Dean couldn't hear anything himself, but he figured his brother's bionic ears had more to do with enhanced focus than actually hearing better.

By the time they were almost around the building the sounds of the school parking lot were fading away and Dean could finally hear what Sam had picked up on. Angry voices. Scuffling. Curses. Dean had a pretty good idea what was going on and it had nothing to do with the supernatural.

Prepared as he was to find a gang of bullies and their victim, however, Dean was not prepared to run into Leven again unexpectedly for the third time today.

After turning the corner of the building, the group of teenagers was still several yards in the distance, but Dean easily spotted the turquoise hair among the otherwise boring shades of blonde and brown. There were four boys besides Leven, all clearly the same age as him or close enough. Two of them had his arms while another was slamming a knee up into his stomach. The fourth was standing back, clearly the leader. The others were all barking out the insults and curses Dean could hear, but the leader was the one spewing angry sentences that got Dean's blood boiling.

"Stupid fag," the leader nearly spat, "I bet it's you. I bet they're not accidents at all. You working some pansy-ass goth magic shit, is that it? Want revenge on the school like some Columbine reject coz nobody likes you? Coz no one wants you here? Fucking queer," he sneered, "We'll show you what we do with freaks like you."

Bells clanged furiously in Dean's head as he heard that, but the voice he was hearing was not that of a teenage boy.

"Now you're gonna find out what we do to your kind. You like it like that, you're gonna get it like that."

A snarl formed on Dean's lips. That self-deceiving superiority, the sound of it burned in Dean so hot he could barely breathe. Suddenly, he was right back in that hick town in Indiana and there was Pete and that damn pool cue. Pete's buddies. Pete's hands. Pete's fetid breath. Only this was Pennsylvania, Dean wasn't drugged, and he didn't need any backup to handle pathetic, prepubescent fucks like this.

Dean flew so fast across that last bit of ground in front of him, he left Sam behind in the dust, the younger man's longer strides be damned.

The leader's lackeys were smart. They saw Dean coming before it was too late and let Leven go, immediately backing off. But the leader himself wasn't as quick. He was Dean's real target. In the end he was the one stirring up hatred. He was the one without the balls to just stand up to someone by himself. He was the one who needed to be taught a lesson.

Dean had that kid slammed up against the brick wall of the building so fast, he heard the sweet telling crunching sound that meant he had either chipped a tooth or cracked the kid's jaw. Good. "You think he's a freak?" Dean growled dangerously, "Well I know a thing or two about freaks, lemme tell ya, and I am looking at the worst kind right now, you mother-fucking shit."

"Dean!"

But Dean couldn't hear Sam right now. He was so angry he couldn't see straight. It might as well be Pete he had eating the brick right now, with Pete's arm wrenched behind his back. Dean had never gotten to repay the bastard himself, after all.

"Dean, stop!" Sam called again, and this time Dean felt a firm hand grip his shoulder. There was no power to Sam's words but sometimes brother mojo worked even better than the psychic kind. "You're gonna break his arm," Sam explained, like that was the only reason he was getting in Dean's way, not because he thought beating the kid up a little was wrong. There was quite a bit of anger in Sam's voice, Dean could hear it, but leave it to the younger Winchester to manage to keep his head about things. Surely, Sam understood what this situation brought back for Dean, and that was probably why he was trying to stop him.

The fury lessened in Dean somewhat but he only loosened his hold on the kid a little. "I'm guessing you're realizing your mistake about now," Dean ground out. Shaky breathing was all that responded like the kid was too scared to actually speak. "Yeah, I'm thinking you do. So you're not gonna be making that same mistake again, are you? Coz if you even think about going after someone this way again, ganging up like a damn coward. I will fucking kill you. We clear?" Even if Dean didn't really mean those words in relation to the teenager, it still felt fucking incredible to say them.

Again, there was only shaky, harsh breathing that responded, and Dean had a pretty good suspicion that the kid was trying not to cry, and probably failing. Damn teenagers. Dean pushed the kid into the wall one last time before releasing him and backing away. He glared mercilessly at the kid and the others that were hanging back.

"Get outta here!" Dean yelled, gesturing at all of them with one angry toss of his arm. "You try and report this or some shit, you better believe I'll know how to find you."

The group knew better than to contradict Dean on that. The lackeys took off immediately and the leader stumbled after them without looking back once.

Dean thought almost immediately then about what he and Sam had talked to Sasha about after the incubus flew back to Indiana without them. About how beating up intolerant people didn't really solve anything and that it could more often make things worse. But Dean also had to agree with what Sasha had said to them in reply. Maybe this would keep those little assholes from trying shit like that again. That was a good enough reason for Dean and he didn't feel the least bit guilty or remorseful.

"Are you alright?" Dean heard Sam asking Leven. Dean came back to himself with a jolt when he picked up on Sam's gentler tone. This wasn't his battle he had been fighting, this was someone else's. Which was exactly what Sasha had done to him.

Dean turned around and saw that Sam had Leven carefully leaned back against the building and was checking him over for injuries. It looked like they had stumbled upon the fight before anything too serious could happen, but Dean could still see at least one bruise forming on Leven's chin, and there were probably a few others where Dean couldn't see them underneath Leven's clothes and jacket.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked after Leven nodded with a pretty weak attempt at his usual flash of a smile.

"Yeah…nothing worse than usual," Leven shrugged.

"Usual?" Sam repeated with that same angry tone again.

"Hey, kid," Dean said as he approached them. Dean caught Leven's big brown eyes as soon as they turned to him. "Look, I'm…I'm sorry if I was outta line with all that. We all got our own battles to fight. I just don't like seeing someone messing with the odds is all. I'm sure if it was just the dickhead I made pee in his pants back there, you definitely coulda taken him."

A choked laugh left Leven's lips and he returned Dean's worried look with an expression that was entirely grateful. "Well, I guess I gotta be a little pissed at you what with all the stripping me of my manhood and all, but…" Leven shrugged, "I guess since I don't got any broken ribs or anything…we might be able to call it even." A grin stretched across his face, making the bruise lose all of its harshness. "Thanks," he said, and then nodded his head at Sam, "I'm guessing this is the little brother you mentioned? Little being a relative word, obviously."

Sam looked startled to hear Leven say that since so far neither Dean nor Leven had actually given away that they knew each other already. "Yep," Dean replied, "See? Told ya I was prettier."

Leven barked out a good laugh again, completely real despite how worn he looked otherwise. "Aww, I don't know. Still hot enough for me. What was your name again?" he asked Sam.

The younger Winchester was busy blinking in retained confusion but finally said, "Uh, Sam." Then it seemed to dawn on him why this all should make more sense than it was and he pointed a knowing finger at the kid in front of him. "Leven," he said, shaking his head at himself for being so slow, "Right. Well, glad we were able to get here in time. Those guys bug you often?"

"Well, I don't think they'll be bugging me anymore," Leven smirked, "Shoulda known they'd figure out my trick of sneaking out the choir room door eventually. I was heading for my car. Gotta stop home for a bit before practice." Leven nodded towards the parking lot where Sam and Dean had come from. They started heading that way. Leven moved a little slow, sure, but more from the blow to his stomach and probable nausea than any heavy injuries.

"Whatcha driving?" Dean asked to make conversation. He knew better than to dwell on what had happened.

"Just this old T-bird of my sister's. Nothing special. One of the lights is busted even. I parked kinda close to this awesome old Impala though. First time I've seen something else out this far. Lemme guess," Leven said with a wink back at Dean who was walking just behind him, "She's yours."

Dean had to grin. "Guilty. How'd ya guess?"

"You kidding? Like one of the preppie rich kid's Spiders would be worthy of a guy like you. Totally the only actually cool car in the whole lot."

Sam was rolling his eyes but also smiling when Dean elbowed his way up between the two of them. "You got good taste, kid, I'll give ya that," Dean said, "I don't think you should be too hard on the T-bird though. White's not exactly my color," Dean admitted as they came within view of the very used looking car, "But a few years ago you could fill the tank on one of those things for ten bucks. She'll treat ya right."

"Anyway," Sam broke in to hopefully steer the conversation away from older model cars. They stopped a few feet from actually being on the lot. "We're going to be meeting with you later again with your sister, right?" Sam asked.

Leven nodded. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Good. Well—"

Dean's phone started to go off with the familiar tones of his newest ringer—Holy Diver by Dio. "We'll see you later then, kid," Dean said as he pulled out his phone and saw that Sasha was the one calling him. He didn't get the chance to actually see Leven off before he picked up the phone and started talking. "What's up?"

"Dean, you and Sam better get in here," Sasha said over the line, sounding definitely not okay. "I was right. Cam was in here waiting for us. Just in time to find out there's been another death."

As soon as they weaseled their way into the crime scene Dean knew he was glad Leven had gone home already, even though the kid was bound to find out eventually. The victim was the same girl who had been acting all freaked out around him earlier. Andy. Well, Andrea Tharoldson. Age fifteen. Freshman.

Dean wanted to throttle something. The problem was they still didn't know what, or at least who was the one deserving of the throttling. Dean couldn't' help blaming himself a little though. They knew that all of the victims had shown signs of being really terrified right before their deaths, Leven had told them that much. They had also seen pretty clearly how scared Andy had been and now she was dead too. The correlation was too generic, too easy to miss, Dean told himself. Who wouldn't be scared when people kept turning up dead?

On the plus side a new death meant a fresher trail to follow. It was a morbid, horrible thought, but it was true.

They were there before the actual police arrived, and planned to make scarce before any showed up despite having made previous contact as PIs. Avoiding unnecessary questions and the potential to step on police toes was always best. Therefore the hunters—plus Cam—played everything out as quickly as they could.

Andy had been waiting in the band room when one of the overhead lights broke loose from its cable and crushed her skull. There were several other large lights just like it hanging from a very high, acoustically pleasing ceiling. Andy had died instantly. Another death made to look like an accident.

The thing that kept bugging Dean though was why did this thing have such a bone to pick with people involved in the musical? It was probably tone deaf, Dean figured. Reasoning was usually petty when it came to demonic creatures.

They soon discovered that five different people saw Andy right before her death. The first was Leven, who they couldn't just discount. Anyone could be a potential suspect, no matter how much they might like the kid. After all, Dean and Sasha hadn't heard all of Leven's conversation with Andy, and the band room was right across from the choir room, which Leven had gone through to exit the school. Dean hated to admit that that added some suspicion.

The other four people who had seen Andy were three students who had talked to her in the hallways and one teacher, Mrs. Larson, the musical director. Andy had talked to her before she went into the band room. Since Andy's mother hadn't been able to pick her up after lunch when Andy wanted to go home, she had told Mrs. Larson she wouldn't be at practice and then went to wait out the day in the band room. All band rehearsals were being held in the gymnasium lately in preparation for an upcoming concert, so no one had disturbed Andy until she was found dead. Presumably, anyway.

It was a janitor who heard the light crash to the floor just before the bell rang. He was on their list now too.

Unfortunately, there wasn't any trace of black powder on what was left of Andy's body or on the light. Dean and Sasha still had their minds set on a Night Hag though, and Sam agreed, which meant that the thing was smart and maybe even knew that hunters were tailing it.

As soon as the police arrived, Dean and the others got out. They would have to speak with the people on their list more thoroughly tomorrow, but that shouldn't hurt the case too badly since no new deaths had happened closer than three days from a previous one so far. They had time. A Night Hag needed to build up fear in its next victim before it could feed again.

"Better to catch people here than at home anyway," Sasha said when Sam questioned their decision to fall back and wait to finish talking with people until tomorrow, "Besides, some of these kids we've already talked to, so they know us, even Mrs. Larson. I talked with her while Dean was looking for clues around the building. I think everyone will be more receptive if they're in the same environment when we question them again."

Sam paused at that and eventually nodded his agreement. Dean saw the logic in that decision too, it just made him antsy to have to wait. He hoped that their plan to still talk with Cam's girl Wade wouldn't be a waste of time. Then again they did need to talk with Leven.

Cam swore up and down of course that there was no way the bad guy could be Leven, and deep down Dean agreed. Even if someone wanted to give the whole overly-bullied student goes rouge theory, that wouldn't explain why Leven would kill one of the people he actually liked. And Andy hadn't been the only person Leven liked among those dead. In fact, there hadn't been a single person who died that Leven didn't like.

"You really know your stuff, don't you?" Cam was saying to Sasha as they headed for the parking lot. Cam had brought his car this time and they were going to follow him in the Impala.

"Well, I did do this by myself for a long time," Sasha shrugged, obviously not meaning to sound somber as he said that, "I like it a lot better with company though." Sasha smiled at his old friend, meaning both the company of Sam and Dean as well as the current added company of Cam.

Rather than dissent with words about how he had no intention of making hunting a habit, Cam just grinned back at Sasha and shook his head.

"I suppose the most important thing though," Sasha went on, "Is catching the information as soon as it's in front of you, even if the details don't seem very clear right away. Ignoring something that seems trivial might come back to haunt you later. Like finding out that all of the victims were frightened of something right before their deaths. We could have passed that off as nothing given the circumstances, but we know better. Not that that helped so much this time," Sasha added dejectedly.

Of course Sam just had to go and break in with one of his usual pep talks after that. But instead of Dean's usual reasoning for tuning Sam out, this time Dean was just distracted. Sasha had reminded him of something he nearly forgot what with all of the afternoon's commotion.

The journal entry.

They were stopped in the middle of the parking lot—the Impala was off in its far corner and Cam's car was in the other direction. Cam, Sasha, and Sam were getting caught up in their conversation so Dean decided to it wouldn't be a bad idea to pull the journal out now before he forgot again. He had still had a few paragraphs to go when Leven interrupted him earlier. It took Dean a moment to find where he had left off, of course, but eventually he did, and while the others talked, Dean read.

Never again. Not like that. Not because I saw too late where the greys started and ended. I'll never forget that little boy. His tiny hands. His eyes. The way they looked at me so trusting, with a color so amazingly green and his hair so white in the dark of the room. He was an incubus. I know that. But he was still a child. Just a baby. And his parents are dead now because of me.

I immediately thought of Dean when I first saw him. Dean's hair had been so blonde when he was littler. Now he's already five years old and it's grown darker. But those eyes, those green eyes like Dean's, I swear they were almost glowing.

Dear God, forgive me for what I have done to that boy.

Suddenly, Sasha's hand was on Dean's shoulder and Dean hadn't even realized that he had been staring at the same spot in his father's journal for the past five minutes. What he hadn't been able to put his finger on before was stabbing its way into recognition now.

Green eyes that seemed to glow. Hair that looked white in the dark. Right. Dean was willing to bet that it would have looked pretty white in direct sunlight too.

"Dean," Sasha said again—Dean only vaguely realized that Sasha had called his name already, "Did you hear me? I'm going to ride with Cam, okay? You and Sam follow us. Cam's car's the red Neon over there." Sasha pointed across the parking lot and Dean managed to blink in that direction.

"Neon. Right," He repeated probably a little too slowly to be normal, "Follow you. Sure." Dean shook his head and closed the journal, not wanting to draw too much attention to it. "Just a little lost in my thoughts. Sorry. We'll see you there." He plastered on a smile and hoped it was believable.

Sasha eyed Dean like he knew something was going on—he probably did—but he simply returned the smile and headed off with Cam, who waved as they walked away.

As soon as Sasha and Cam's backs were to him Dean turned for the Impala. His mind was buzzing. It didn't know how to deal with this new information and that made his steps turn sharp and quick. Sam soon had to half-job to keep up with him.

"Dean!" Sam called, rushing ahead for a moment to be sure Dean noticed him, "What's with you suddenly? You're not actually upset that Sasha's riding with Cam, are you?"

Upset about that? About Sasha being with Cam instead of with him and the journal to inevitably find out what Dean only just realized and was potentially the worst news ever? No, that was just fine.

Dean stopped, took a few breaths, made as if he was going to try and explain things to Sam, and then found he couldn't. He continued towards the car.

"Dean!"

"It's…it's not that," Dean explained, trying to slow his steps a little but not really looking at Sam when he spoke to him. Dean just wanted to get to the car. He had to get to the car.

"Then what is it?" Sam demanded. He had never been very good with Dean keeping secrets from him, especially when they were little and everything an older brother did was magnanimous.

Dean didn't respond to his brother's question, however, until they reached the Impala. Even then he got into the car first and shut the door. The journal was still in his hand. When Sam got in next to him, the door slamming to accentuate Sam's frustration, Dean opened the journal to the beginning of that early entry and handed the book to his brother. "Read that," Dean said, his expression too drawn to really give anything away, "Then ask me what's wrong."

Sam stared at Dean in confusion and worry, but knowing Dean as he did, he soon nodded and accepted the book.

Dean felt so supremely stupid as he started to drive, following closely behind Cam's red Neon. The truth should have dawned on him sooner but it had taken the full description for things to click into place. Green eyes. White hair. Parents killed by hunters when he was a baby. It was so obvious to him now.

The car was very quiet as Sam read and Dean drove them through Pittsburgh with Cam as his guide. Dean just didn't have it in him to turn on any music. They were meeting Wade at the place she worked, a club not quite downtown but close enough so that traffic made sure it was after five o'clock before they finally arrived.

Dean had been watching Sam out of the corner of his eye the entire time. The slow widening of hazel eyes was more than enough of a clue that Sam was coming to the same conclusion as Dean had. Sam finally finished reading the entry just as Dean was pulling into a spot. Dean shifted the car into PARK and waited.

Slowly, Sam closed the journal and set it on his lap. He stared forward. "Okay," Sam said, straining to remain calm, "This…could be bad."

Dean couldn't help it; he snorted. "Sammy, Dad helped kill Lindsey's parents," Dean said without fanfare, "As in Lindsey, Sasha's old friend who hates us and already wants us dead, Lindsey. Yeah. I'd say it's pretty fucking bad."

tbc...

A/N: Hmm. This chapter seems so short seeing as how long they've been lately. Anyway, there should be new fanart up at the website in a couple days. Woohoo! Notice the shoutout to Deangirl1's wonderful guest chapter. I'm sure a few good friends of mine may have noticed some other things about this chapter too. Heehee. Leven's warm up song was from "Aida" a great show I had the pleasure of seeing in New York in 2002. I'm just not a big fan of the ONE song Daniel sings by himself in "Once on this Island." There will be more musical stuff. And alot of fun in the next chapter.

So, think the hunt is as cut and dry as the boys think? ;-) And yay for almost ALL of you knowing John's hunt had been for Lindsey's parents. That will eventually come back of course, and Sam and Dean need to have a long talk when they get the chance, which will have them discussing Dad a bit too. Thanks for the reviews as always, my wonderful readers! Over 600!

Crim