Part 5: Sisters

Sasha had gone to the school Sam saw in his vision—Prior Lake High School, 20 miles southwest of downtown Minneapolis, Minnesota—to scout for potential demon activity with Jo and Sarah. Bobby and Ellen were on research duty, trying to figure out anything capable of disrupting Sam's powers that if pinpointed could be fixed. After all, so far the group had faced a demon that used hex bags to hide itself, demons that used the bodies of shapeshifters, and even demons whose presences were hidden because of proximity to a pre-devil's gate—the cave. If there was some other way a demon could slip under Sam's radar then there had to be a good reason.

While the others did their jobs, Sam and Dean had put on their rented suits and were playing the part of detectives from Scott County. Being local police might be too difficult to pull off in a smaller town after all.

Sam had led them to a house in Prior Lake without trouble or hesitation. They used Ellen's jeep as it was at least a little more believable as a police vehicle than the Impala. "We're sorry to bother you, sir. Scott County Sheriff's Office," Sam said as they flashed their fake badges to the man who answered the door, "Would it be possible to speak to a Meagan Daniels, if she's available? I assure you, she's not in any trouble, we just need to ask her a few questions."

The man at the door frowned a little, clearly not liking that he didn't know what was going on. He was mid-20s, shaved head, thin but muscular frame with angular features. He looked like the type who wouldn't mind getting into a fist-fight until he opened his mouth and spoke to them rather politely. "I'm sure that's okay. She's home now, if you guys wanna come inside. Still kinda chilly these days. Meg!" he called up the stairs behind him as he opened the door wider to let Sam and Dean in.

It was a split level home, simple but more than enough for a young couple. The unexpected part was the excitable German Shepherd who suddenly bounded down the steps leading up to the main level and barreled into Dean's legs.

"Abbott!" the man called, grabbing the dog's collar and yanking him back towards the stairs, "Sorry, about that," he said, struggling to actually get the dog to move up even a single step and out of Dean's personal space, "He likes to make friends with everyone. Come on, Abbott, wait for them to get up the stairs, huh?" he yanked again but the dog, Abbott, was licking Dean's outstretched hand.

"Aw, that's okay," Dean said, having a soft spot for most domestic animals since he never got to experience having his own pet, "He's a good boy, aren't ya," he scratched the dog behind the ears who seemed rather starved for affection though that appeared to be more personality than neglect, "Abbott, huh? Where's Costello?"

"Don't think that's the first time we've heard that one," came a female voice from upstairs.

The man was able to pull Abbott the rest of the way to the main level as Sam and Dean followed. Looking ahead Dean caught sight of the woman who had spoken standing in the kitchen. She immediately made him think of Sasha's succubus friend Charis, having copper red hair just passed her shoulders and a trim, graceful figure. He wouldn't be surprised if she had the blue-grey eyes and freckles too once he got closer. But she wore glasses and had a much younger look that Dean was pretty sure had to be deceptive of her actual age.

An elbow in the side from Sam told Dean that this was indeed one of the girls they were looking for. "Meagan Daniels?" Sam asked.

The young woman came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a small towel from the dishes. "Yes, that's me. Is something wrong?" She looked concerned now that she could see their suits and badges. "What is this about? I'd worry about family but I'm the only one down here in the Cities."

All Sam had seen in his vision and been able to tell Dean and Sasha—and eventually the others—was that two demons from the Devil's Gate wanted something from their still living, breathing sisters, and that a school shooting would be involved if they couldn't foil these demons' plans. How that all connected was still unknown but the demons' sisters were definitely the best starting point.

Therefore, it surprised Dean to find this woman to be so young as he expected the sister of someone who had been dead long enough to become a demon to be much older. It couldn't happen that quickly, could it, for someone's soul to go from damned to just…evil?

"We're not here about anything new, Miss Daniels," Dean said, "At least not a new case. We'd actually like to ask you a few questions about the death of your brother, Matthew."

Meagan's eyes that were indeed a blue-grey went wide with hurt and surprise. "I…don't understand. Matt died almost five years ago. It was a snowmobile accident. Driver negligence. Has there been some kind of new evidence? I don't understand what that could be even if there was."

Snowmobile accident? Sam hadn't seen that. He only knew that two young men had been killed, their sisters still lived, and something awful was going to happen if they didn't prevent it. They also hadn't known exactly how long it had been since those demons first died and went to Hell.

Dean didn't like that the boys had obviously been so young.

"Yes, ma'am, we realize that," Sam said, going along with what they had learned, "I'm afraid I can't divulge all of our reasoning for being here. The details of a case can often be confidential if still ongoing or reopened."

"Believe us though that your answering of just a few simple questions about the accident might help more than you know," Dean supplied. He could tell that this was a soft-spoken woman, polite and easily driven to concern. It was easy to convince her that talking to them would only be helpful.

She turned to the man Dean assumed was her husband and said, "Dan, could you take Abbott for a walk? I think it's about time for him to go out," trying to nicely say 'please leave us alone'.

Dan didn't argue. "Sure. Come on, Abbott," he grabbed the dog's leash off the banister of the stairs and began leading the dog easily at the prospect of 'going out'.

Again Dean got the feeling that this man would sooner put up a fight than ever back down, but he listened to the strained request without arguing.

Only Dean seemed to notice how Abbott shied and whimpered as he was made to walk passed Sam and get to the stairs again. Before he had only been near Dean. It was probably just Dean's imagination or because the dog was friendly in the submissive/just want to be loved way and Sam was such a frickin' giant. At least, Dean preferred that train of thought to the alternative.

"Can I offer you anything to drink?" Meagan asked.

They were sitting at her kitchen table and soon had a Vanilla Coke each as Meagan's fridge was largely stocked with 'pop' and she wasn't a coffee drinker.

"Well, I can tell you what I know, but I wasn't there," she began after Sam had asked her again about the accident, "It was almost five years ago, like I said, October, not a lot of snow on the ground yet for snowmobiling. Our family always goes out, but Matt was the most eager every year. He and Ben would go out early all the time, usually over frozen grass more than snow," she smirked.

"That's, umm…Ben Pasche, is that right?" Sam asked.

Meagan nodded. "They were best friends. Same class, just like me and Mim. Miriam. It was our senior year and their sophomore so…they were only sixteen. Our family got together a lot back then before Mim's moved out to North Dakota. Anyway, Ben and Matt went out that Saturday, and…a few hours later we got the call. They were racing, doing jumps, I guess, over the ditches. I don't know why, or what they were thinking, they probably weren't, but…at one point they were going towards each other, hit a jump at the same time and…" Meagan's brows furrowed and Dean saw her throat move slowly as she swallowed, "They said that…their skis went…went right through each other. They impaled each other," she shuddered, "Same thing happened up in Thief River Falls a few years before, two groups coming from different directions, going too fast. Awful." She took a drink of her own Coke and her silvery eyes remained cast down on the tabletop. Dean could see the presence of real tears shimmering too. Whatever connected these sisters—or at least this sister—had to their demon brothers, it wasn't animosity from the girls' side.

"Miss Daniels, about Miriam Pasche," Sam went on slowly, puppy eyes in full swing as he looked on sympathetically at Meagan so that she would know that he, of course, felt her pain, "You said her family lives in North Dakota now, is that correct?"

"Yes, Williston," Meagan replied.

Dean remembered having gone through Williston, North Dakota, not all that long ago, not that it was all that memorable of a town. What happened there was though. That was where they were staying the night, well the morning that Dean and Sasha first agreed to try and give a relationship a go.

Slowly. That hadn't lasted long.

"But Miriam lives in Minnesota still?" Sam questioned.

Meagan nodded.

"When was the last time you saw Miss Pasche?" Dean broke in. Sam didn't have quite as clear an idea where Miriam was since part of his vision had been of the house they were in now but not at all of wherever the other girl lived.

With a crinkled brow, Meagan looked a little amused by that question. "Two days ago maybe," she smiled, "We see each other at least once a week. And it's Miriam Wiedenhoeft now, if you need me to spell that for you," she chuckled, pronouncing the last name 'Wee-Den-Heft', "She and her husband live in Savage, not ten minutes away from us. We get together most weekends. If anything we probably became closer after the accident. Did you want to ask her some questions too?"

The relief on Sam's face was obvious at hearing that the other girl wasn't all that far away. The less ground they had to cover and keep an eye on the better. "Yes. It could be important. Do you have her current address handy?"

"Of course," Meagan rose from the table and began paging through an address book on the kitchen counter, "I'll copy it down for you."

If only everyone they dealt with on hunts was this helpful. "Thanks, we appreciate you saving us the extra time," Dean said, "We only have a few more questions. Prior to the accident, was…uhh…was your brother or Miriam's brother acting…strange at all. Anything…out of the ordinary."

Meagan paused in her writing and looked up with that same crinkled brow. Her confusion made her look even younger, like a teenager still, though they knew she was twenty-four. "Why? It was an accident," she said shortly.

"Yes, we know," Sam interjected quickly; the last thing they needed was for this woman to suddenly distrust them, "But our actual investigation may surround something that took place before the accident. I apologize that that's also not for public knowledge right now but if you could just answer the question, again, it would be really helpful to our investigation."

To their surprise, Meagan slammed the pen she had been using onto the countertop. "Are we talking about a crime? Some petty thing that might have happened five years ago by minors who are now dead, I'll remind you, and do not need anyone rousing up their ghosts. I swear, if this is another theory about the possibility of one of them having plotted against the other, you can get out of my house right now."

Not exactly the reaction they had been expecting from Miss Sweet and Eager to Help. But Dean was busy focusing on what she had said about plotting. "Another theory? Has that been brought up before?" he asked without really thinking, "People thought maybe one of them was trying to kill the other, that's why they were coming at each other instead of side by side, but then it just…what? Went bad for both of them?"

"Look," Meagan responded sharply, her earlier soft silvery eyes turned icy, "I love my brother. He may not have always made the right choices, but he was a good kid. Ben was his best friend. The last thing either of them would have wanted was for that accident to have happened on purpose. They were sixteen," she stressed, as if that hadn't cut a knife through Dean's heart the first time. Then she took a breath and seemed to calm, collecting herself a hell of a lot faster than Dean ever did. "I'm sorry. I know you're just doing your job, and I hope whatever you're looking for, you find. But my brother died in an accident. You might want to choose your words a little more carefully around Mim. She tends to overreact." Meagan tore out the piece of paper and held out Miriam's address.

The brothers were standing again by now. Sam nodded and accepted the paper. "Thank you. I wish we could tell you more, but for now it's…difficult. If we could keep in touch with you…" he trailed hopefully. It was certain that they would need to cross paths with this woman again.

"Sure. I put both mine and Mim's cell numbers on the bottom there," she said, "If I don't answer it means I'm at work or in class. If it's an emergency, I'm usually at the school. Argosy. I'm training to be a Vet Tech," she smiled weakly, obviously still uncomfortable with what they had been discussing but not wanting to come across as meaning to direct any of her anger onto them.

Sam flashed his best 'you can trust me' smile, they both shook Meagan's hand, and they were soon back in Ellen's jeep on their way to the neighboring town of Savage.

They had left before Dan and Abbott returned from their walk. Dean was sort of thankful for that as he didn't want to think about Sam making animals cower. Wally was a travel companion as well, after all, as Ellen hadn't wanted to leave her alone for months on end even if she was fairly capable of taking care of herself. The little chimera had a longstanding order to stay in cat-form until they returned to the Roadhouse and was usually hidden away in whatever hotel they were staying at. At least she was still treating Sam like Sam.

It was getting late. They had arrived late in Minnesota anyway and now it was close to eight o'clock. At least that meant Miriam and her husband were more likely to be home.

"This just feels wrong to me, ya know?" Dean was saying, driving since it was a pretty easy shot from one small town to the one right next door, "Sixteen-year-olds when they died and they went to Hell? Became demons? It's only been five years for them. Most of the demons we're dealing with have been dead and buried for a couple hundred at least."

"Maybe they were lucky," Sam shrugged.

Dean gaped at him.

"I mean lucky they were near the devil's gate and able to escape along with so many older, more experienced demons, not lucky to end up in Hell," Sam explained with that 'can't you read my mind and know what I mean' expression, to which Dean always wanted to respond that no, he couldn't read Sam's mind even if it was so unfairly the other way around.

"That doesn't answer my question," Dean practically growled, gripping the wheel tightly as he drove and barely keeping his eyes on the road signs to help them to Miriam's apartment, "Sixteen-year-olds in Hell. How? Why?"

Sam was silent for a moment, absently gnawing his bottom lip. "I know it sucks to think this way, Dean, but maybe that 'theory' Meagan didn't want to hear is the truth. Maybe those boys weren't friends. Maybe they were and things got out of hand, I don't know. But it's possible they really were trying to kill each other that day."

"With snowmobiles?" Besides, Dean knew what Sam was really getting at and it was crap. He had never taken much stalk in the idea that you could earn a place in Hell, like counting sins and all that shit Catholics and other religious types did. He had yet to come up with a good reason why he should go to Hell just because he enjoyed a little ambiguous sex. Well, used to. "I've heard stories of some whacked kids," Dean admitted, "Seen some myself, especially if you wanna count how we met Sarah. Evil hellspawn child with Daddy's razor ring a bell?"

Sam snorted.

"But that doesn't mean regular good kids just suddenly turn psycho on each other and deserve to go to Hell."

"Well that doesn't leave us with many other possibilities, Dean," Sam countered, "If they didn't earn Hell than they had to have chosen it. And the only way we know for sure that you can choose to go to Hell…" Sam didn't need to finish.

"Maybe she tricked them," Dean thought aloud. Not everyone was necessarily as lucky as him, having chosen willingly and knowingly to spend eternity in Hell.

If Sam agreed or disagreed with that he didn't say anything. It was a touchy subject no matter how they looked at things, and their time was short. Stopping these demons had to be priority, Dean knew that, but every day seemed to fill him with more and more doubt that he was truly meant to escape from his deal.

Finding Miriam's apartments wasn't difficult, but finding her actual building was a damn chore. They finally spotted a number 10 and knew they had stumbled somehow upon the right one. They climbed to the third floor and knocked on the first door they came to, badges ready.

"Oh. Umm…can I help you?" asked the woman who answered, blonde pixie cut and stylish glasses making her look maybe a little modern punk, with a little 80s influence, Dean thought, since she was wearing a large black sweatshirt that fell off one shoulder and skinny jeans.

"I'm Detective Stokes and this is Detective Brown," Dean gave his best friendly grin as they flashed their badges, "Miriam Pa—I mean. Wiedenhoeft?" Dean asked, pronouncing the name carefully, "We'd like to speak to you for a few minutes if we could."

"Honey?" A man appeared behind Miriam, all instinctively protective and obviously her husband. He was actually dressed very much like how Dean and Sam usually were, in layered shirts and jeans. Dean was taken aback by how much this young man almost instantly reminded him of his father—dark brown hair and unshaven face, average height and build but strong, very strong, and he even had brown eyes that were currently set in a scowl.

"Sorry, uhh…why don't you guys come inside?" the man said then, surprising them just as Dan had at being suddenly polite, "Sorry for the mess, we're…messy," he shrugged.

The apartment was actually a lot tidier than Dean and Sam usually left things. A little cluttered maybe, coats not hung up, extra shoes near the door, cat toys strewn about. Cat toys were quickly followed by the presence of a small grey and white cat sniffing at Sam's shoes. Her markings made her look like she was wearing a little grey suit.

"Come here, Helga," the man said in a higher pitched voice that almost made Dean snicker, since he usually only associated that sort of thing with women. The man scooped the cat up who continued to be very keen on trying to sniff Sam. At least she wasn't hissing or running in fear.

Dean reached to pet the cat. At first she sniffed, then rubbed into his hand, and then for whatever reason she suddenly bit him on the finger.

"Helga," Miriam reprimanded, grabbing the cat from her husband's arms, "Sorry. She's a little shit most of the time. That just means she wants you to play with her." She set the cat down, who returned to sniffing about their feet, and said quite undeterred, "So, you're the cops Meg called about. Well, I'm Mim." She reached over and shook their hands with a surprisingly strong grip for such small hands. She was average in a lot of ways but all personality so that her face lit up when she talked.

"John," her husband said, maybe a little sharply as he grabbed for Dean's hand, probably having noticed Dean give his wife the quick once over. Dean really needed to learn to stop doing that.

He shook John's hand—further irony since the man reminded him of his father—and tried not to let any lingering conditioned responses rise up and for him to start in with the 'yes, sirs'. "Makes our job easier then, Ma'am. We'd just like to ask you a few questions," Dean said.

Since Miriam was prepared for them, she led them right over to the sofa, grabbed the matching chair beside it, and her husband remained in a chair opposite. The cat had yet to cease her sniffing and investigating of Sam, who had finally given in and was petting her. A moment later the cat had scampered over to what appeared to be her pet carrier and hopped on top of it, giving a plaintive little chirp of a meow that sounded almost like a sheep's 'baaa'.

"Uhh…"

"That's the nice way she asks to play," Miriam explained, "Just ignore her or she'll never stop. She must really like you two."

This was going better than Dean had imagined after Meagan's warning that they watch what they say around this chick. "We'd really just like to ask you about what happened to your brother, Ben Pasche. I'm sure Miss Daniels already told you what we talked about with her."

"Is it still Daniels?" Sam asked, "She didn't correct us but her husband—"

"Oh, she wishes Dan was her husband," Miriam laughed, "He's a little slow with the ring."

"He'll ask when he's ready," John defended in true male fashion.

"Anyway," Miriam went on, "I'm sure all I can tell you is what you already heard from Meg." And indeed she did, that the boys had gone out and were later found impaled by each others' snowmobile skis. Pretty gruesome to imagine. The hunters had expected that but they also needed to ask the same question of Miriam that had gotten Meagan to snap.

"What we'd really like to know, if you can tell us," Sam began carefully, "Is whether or not there was anything…abnormal happening around or to your brothers at the time. Meagan was…unable to think of anything, but—"

"Unable to think of anything?' Miriam scoffed, "What wasn't weird about the year before the accident. You'd barely even recognize our brothers from being Freshmen to Sophomores. Hang on." She got up and disappeared into the bedroom for a moment.

Trying to appear nonchalant, Dean smiled at John and stretched his legs out beneath the coffee table where his feet struck something firm. He peaked under and completely forgot his cover for a moment as he snatched the large black leather book from the floor. "Dude, is this comprehensive? This thing is massive," he exclaimed as he opened the large book with an assortment of characters and the words "Marvel" prominently on the cover.

"You're a comic fan?" John asked, pleased but also clearly surprised, "Guess you gotta relax somehow off duty, right?"

Right. Detective. "Hey, live life how ya can," Dean covered. The book was alphabetical which made it easy to page through and find the Marvel comic book characters Dean was most interested in. By the time he got to the D's, Sam eyeing him impatiently since they were supposed to be undercover and believable, John had moved to take Miriam's chair.

"Hands down, fave character of all time," John said, pointing to the open page, "Deadpool."

"Merc with a Mouth," Dean nodded knowingly. Deadpool was sort of like a Spider-Man character, as he was almost always wisecracking. If Spider-Man really should be in a straightjacket in a mental institution somewhere and often talked to himself in third person or to his inner voice like a sidekick. And blew up things. A lot. "First comic I owned full on paper in my hands was New Mutants issue 98, Deadpool's first appearance."

"Ah, dude, no way," John said.

With a pointed clearing of her throat, Miriam reentered the room, smiling oh so knowingly at Dean with the giant book in his lap and how her husband was gushing. She came over to sit cross-legged amongst them on the floor while Dean reluctantly set the Marvel book aside. Opening the first yearbook, Miriam found the freshmen class and said, "There's Matt," as she pointed to a kid with glasses, braces, and impressively curly hair like a reddish-blonde fro. She turned the page. "And Benji," she said a little more sadly, indicating a kid in much the same boat as the first—Geek 101, complete with glasses, acne, and being way too skinny. She set that yearbook down and grabbed up the second, paging just as quickly to the Sophomore class. "And here they both are a year later."

The setup of the pages was much the same, but the images were far too different for only a year to have past. Matthew Daniels had lost his braces and glasses and somehow managed to tame his strawberry fro. On the next page, Benjamin Pasche had also lost his glasses, cleared his skin, and filled out so that they both looked like they had gone from Beauty and the Geek to Big Man On Campus in under twelve months.

"It was like they suddenly hit the nice part of puberty, you know? When you finally grow out of the awkward stage. I just didn't expect it to happen overnight. That was weird, if that's the kind of abnormal you're looking for. Can't imagine how it would have anything to do with their accident though. They were always crazy on snowmobiles and four wheelers even before they went GQ on us."

Well, that decided it then. From geek to chic overnight had to mean this was a case of making a deal, not earning Hell by being dicks. The accident must have really been just that and those boys headed for the pit nine years too early. The one thing that continued to make the least sense to Dean was why the brothers would be targeting their sisters at all, but Sam had been sure the girls were the ones who needed their help.

It was Sam who first thanked Miriam and John for their time and said that they needed to be on their way. Dean was sorry to have to leave since he actually wanted to get a chance to go through more of that giant Marvel book and maybe shoot the breeze with John. He knew they were on a tight schedule but it was more and more often that he went looking for excuses to forget that.

Sam, on the other hand—face tight and brow furrowed as they headed back to the hotel—never seemed to think of anything else.

Dean still couldn't believe they were staying at the Mystic Lake Casino for their hotel but it was the closest lodging to Prior Lake and actually had pretty good rates if you didn't want one of the suites. One thing that was true in Vegas as well as Minnesota was that rooms were always cheap in a casino. They know they'll get your money somehow, which was one of the reasons Dean only gambled when he knew for sure he would win. An addiction to something like that was, well, almost as bad as selling your soul.

"Sulfur," Jo confirmed.

"All over the school," Sarah nodded, "Which means you were right, Sam. These demons are definitely in students. They probably left residue everywhere because they were taking their time choosing hosts. We weren't able to pinpoint who they possessed since it was after hours but we got a good layout of the school."

"This isn't exactly a private school in Pittsburgh," Sasha said with a grin, "It was easy to walk around without hassle. Basketball game going on so the doors were open. Only one security guard on duty and he wasn't asking for guest passes."

Low security would make things easier, nauseous as Dean was about all this. And hadn't they just left a high school? Dean couldn't help thinking about Wade's little crack that they were becoming the patron saints of high school rescues. If that was door number two in Dean's possible futures, maybe he'd rather take his chances with Hell.

They had crammed into two adjoining rooms, splitting boys and girls, and were currently gathered in one of them to catch up on each other's progress. Sasha, Sarah, and Jo had been successful. Dean and Sam too, more or less. The younger generation looked to Ellen and Bobby then, who seemed to have left their research for naught some time ago.

Ellen was sitting at the small table, absently petting Wally, her face stern, while Bobby sat on one of the beds cleaning guns that they would more than likely not be using any time soon. Dean couldn't blame the behavior; all of them were edgy these days.

"Nothing to say coz there was nothing to find," Ellen explained shortly, "According to everything we've checked, every lead and possibility, you've already run into all the known defensive methods out there for demons staying under the radar. And this isn't another one."

Wonderful.

"But that doesn't mean," she added, "That there isn't a natural reason instead, something these demons didn't need to put in place intentionally."

"Gone only five years," Bobby shook his head, none of them able to stomach that they were dealing with demons who were kids when they went south, "Seems to Ellen and me these boys might be slipping under your radar, Sam, coz there just isn't enough demon or hellfire or what have you for you to sense. Not like you're used to. Plain and short of it is…" he glanced up from the shotgun he was scrubbing clean of rocksalt, "They might just be too human."

That did it. Dean was standing, leaning against the wall, and he slammed his fist into the plaster. "This is bullshit," he spat.

No one responded. No one said anything. No one would even look at him. And he knew exactly why. He watched as Jo scooped up Wally from the table, holding the blue-eyed Tabby cat that seemed perpetually confused about all the chaos surrounding her many 'owners'. Sam was across the room, arms crossed and gaze on the floor. Sasha and Sarah were sitting on the pullout that was still—for now—just a sofa. Did they really think Dean would just let all this slide?

"What the Hell is wrong with all of you?" he growled, "There are only two ways this can go and neither of them is nice for me. You think I'm just gonna ignore that? Damn it, Sam," he said across to his brother, "You're thinking just like I am that maybe you had a vision, a real as life vision like you haven't had in a year, because you're supposed to save these kids, not send them back to Hell. They made a Crossroad's deal just like me. So it was for something selfish, because they wanted to be someone that wouldn't be made fun of for the next four years of their lives. So what? We didn't condemn Leven for that. And if you think my sacrifice was completely unselfish…" The momentum in Dean's speech came to a dead stop. Sam was looking at him now. And Dean didn't look away. "It was selfish. I know it was selfish. I'm just like these kids. They managed to get out, to get free and we're just gonna…throw 'em back?"

"And what if they're not like you?" Sam said, pushing from his own wall and stalking towards Dean across the room, "Two ways this can go, you said it yourself. What if they're not just poor innocent kids anymore, Dean? They still took bodies that don't belong to them. My vision is about their sisters, protecting their sisters and the school. They're demons no matter how human their signatures may feel, and when we send them back that's it, we're done, you're free."

Dean slammed his hand into the wall again, pushing off of it like Sam had and meeting him in the center of the room. "Bullshit. Bullshit. You don't know if they're the last of it. You don't know. Your senses are messed up. There could be more demons after them and then what? What if it happens that fast after I'm gone? Five years. Less. And suddenly it'll be me in some meat suit and you'll have to hunt me. Sorry, Sammy. But right now I'm not seeing any upside." Dean's voice cracked on the last of that and suddenly he remembered that it wasn't just him and Sam in the room. They had a larger audience than usual.

Everyone was staring, not knowing what to say. Wally had jumped from Jo's arms and was rubbing Dean's legs as if to calm him, the only one willing to act because she couldn't possibly understand—not fully—what all that arguing was about.

It was Sasha who moved first, playing it as if he merely meant to pick up Wally, but then he remained close to Dean, eyes turned down not in a sympathetic or pitying way but merely sad and understanding. When Dean looked up at Sam again, he saw mostly anger there, indignancy. It was the others who pitied. They tried not to, Dean knew, but he saw it, even in Sarah who tried to be strong for Sam.

"I'm so sick of you boys fighting over this," Ellen said in a low voice, "Almost every day there has to be something standing in our way, making us second guess ourselves as to whether we can even save Dean at all, or whether we're going about things the right way to do it. Well it's too late for any of that now. We don't have answers, don't have plenty, but that doesn't matter, can't. We need to figure out what is really going on with these demons. If they can be saved, however that may be, Dean, I know that's what you want us to do and we will. If not, we'll send them where they belong. And if that ain't yet the end of it, then we'll just keep on at this until it is."

Bobby nodded. "You hear that now?" he turned to the 'children', "Cut the bullshit. Now who has any bright ideas that might actually be helpful to the situation?"

Having been put in their place, no one wanted to say anything at first. Dean pet Wally on the head, small smile offered to Sasha, and tried to give Sam his 'we're both idiots so let's leave it' nod. Sam nodded back to him so he figured they were good for now even though nothing had been solved.

Then Dean noticed Jo and Sarah conspiring, their whispers fairly audible since it was otherwise so quiet. They didn't try to hide it, knew they were being watched, but finished their conversation before turning back to the others.

"We have an idea," Jo said.

"You're not going to like it," Sarah offered to Dean.

Well what else was new?

"Way we figure it," Jo went on, "If we have questions about Hell and these boys being demons then our best bet for answers…is to go to the source."

Dean had resigned himself to the knowledge that he would be eternally damned whether Hell had anything to do with it or not. "You know the bastard's gonna get way too much enjoyment outta this, right?" he grumbled.

They were in the other room now, the room they were sharing with Bobby, though it was only Sam and Sasha with him as they figured it might be better not to expose the others unless absolutely necessary. "I'm sure he will," Sam said, "But if we want to understand what's going on with these kids without risking that they try and kill as soon as they know we're after them then this is the next best thing."

Dean sighed. They were standing on one side of the room, looking towards the other. "What am I even supposed to say?"

"Wanna call 1-900-DEMON?" Sasha snarked.

So not funny. Not when Dean was actually about to summon Malak by choice, the Prince and occasionally Princess of Darkness. "Why is it a 900 number?" he glared at his friend beside him.

Sasha grinned as though that should be obvious, but before he could make any inappropriate comments, Sam broke in, "Just call for him, Dean. If he comes, he comes. If not…we move on to something else." The tension in Sam's voice was palpable despite how collected he tried to appear. He obviously wanted to skip this and get straight to the saving Dean part of the story, but Dean wasn't so sure he wanted to be saved if these kids turned out to be not all that bad.

But anyway. Back to calling for Malak. Right. Wonderful. Dean never actually thought he would be putting this to the test. "Malak!" he yelled at the ceiling, conjuring images of the demon as if he might simply will Malak to show up, "Malak!"

They had considered an actual summoning spell but doubted it would work on so powerful a demon. Besides, the reason Malak gave Dean his name originally was so that Dean could call on him if needed. Granted, Malak had also said that he probably wouldn't come at all but it was worth a try.

"Malak!" Dean called again. At this rate he would have a sore throat in the morning and nothing to show for it. Not that Malak usually announced himself with flickering lights and thunder—unless he was feeling particularly showmen like—but there hadn't even been a creak in the floorboards beneath the ugly hotel carpet to indicate success. "This is a waste of time," Dean deflated, "As if his glorified evilness would—"

"You know it isn't actually necessary to yell."

Dean whipped around, Sam and Sasha immediately doing the same, to see that Malak had manifested behind them just to scare the living fuck out of Dean like usual.

"His glorified evilness?" Malak repeated with a curious quirk of his lips. His. As in the suit-clad, blonde, red on black version, same as Dean had seen in the mirror the other night.

"You didn't switch," Dean had to comment, since they had been playing a game of alternating ever since Malak's first appearance.

The demon sighed almost pityingly, leaning back against the radiator by the window. "You summoned me. Therefore, I have come as the version you wanted. That you were envisioning. A polite gesture on my part. What, disappointed? I thought you preferred me this way. Though I doubt this form would look quite as stunning as the other one did in that dress you fancied," he grinned and licked at his lips. If Dean hadn't personally felt that tongue once upon a time he would have sworn it was forked.

A faint growl was building besides Dean, low in Sasha's throat. Maybe the incubus didn't even realize he was doing it. Dean had always faced Malak alone after their first encounter, but he remembered well that Sasha was not a fan of the Big Bad's flirting with Dean. "We didn't call you for a social visit," the incubus snapped.

Malak's eyes, snake-like and nearly glowing, moved to Sasha slowly. "No," he said with textured words, "You called because you are under the mistaken impression that the universe is fair. Demons are demons, boys. By choice, mind you. Always by choice. If you want to sympathize with your prey, by all means go ahead. But it won't help you towards your goal."

"What's going on with these kids?" Dean asked, sick of Malak's double-talk and riddles, "They evil or what? They've been dead only five years. Five. You expect me to believe it only takes that long and suddenly they want to shoot up some school and…and what? Put the blame on their sisters?" That was doubtful the actual answer to what was going on but they had yet to come up with anything better.

And there it was as always—that smug smile and a slight laugh that taunted. "Five years? Dean," Malak said disappointedly, "Do you really think that a year here is the same as a year in Hell?" He pushed from the radiator and all of them instinctively parted to let him pass between them. Moving about the room, Malak cast his gaze over their scattered belongings, at the Colt on the nightstand, Dean's leather over a chair, and other things as if it all amused him greatly. "A month? Is ten years in Hell. You do the math for those…kids," he said mockingly.

Dean was immediately reminded why he couldn't help doubting the happy ending his friends kept striving for.

A month was ten years? Then those kids had been in Hell for…

"600 years," Sam voiced somberly, making the reality of that strikingly present for all of them. It suddenly became clear how good human beings could change so easily, how demons lost their humanity in what seemed such a short time. It wasn't short for them.

"So much can happen in a week on Earth. In a month. A year," Malak said, continuing a slow trek about the room, passing his gaze and occasionally a well-manicured hand over things that belonged to them, "Ah, but so much more happens below. So much. You'll find out soon enough, Dean, how quickly things change. Even all that self-righteous anger of yours."

"Shut up," Dean growled low, barely audible save the harsh breath that left him. His hands were clenching so tight as he glared at Malak; he barely acknowledged Sam and Sasha still beside him. "What did you do to those kids? What do they want? They were sixteen, you god damn—!"

Red on black eyes flashed and Dean fell instantly silent, unsure if it was fear or power or what that made him stop. Then Malak's fierce face softened and he walked up to stand in front of Dean. "They made a deal. Not with my top emissary, the one you call the Crossroad's Demon who has since been replaced. I do need to keep up with supply and demand, you know. No, these boys made a deal with someone else. Now of course I hold all of the contracts, but I don't make all of them. They had help getting out of the Devil's Gate. No one so freshly new to Hell would be able to move so far amongst so many powerful comrades without aid. Don't be too hard on the boys though for giving into their natures for a little time on the surface. They're just lonely, you see."

"Lonely?" Dean repeated.

Malak's grin stretched wide, his eyes ever focused on Dean. And then he was rippling away, like mist into nothing.

"Wait! No!" Dean cried, reaching out into the fading image that fractured even more when he tried to grasp it, "Bastard!" he stomped and clenched his fists, "Just what the Hell am I supposed to do!"

There was a hand on Dean's arm to remind him that Sasha was still there. Then the closer presence of Sam to remind him that his brother bookended him too. "We," Sasha said, "And what we're going to do is go to that school tomorrow, find the demons, and figure out what they're really after."

"If there's a bigger player pulling their strings, we'll find them too," Sam added assuredly, "And whoever needs saving we'll do our best to save them. You first," he tried to grin.

But it stung, even though they both just stood there and waited for Dean to give the okay, for him to make the final decision as if he was the lone commander in this awful battle. It's all Dean had asked of them once, for them to listen to him, but these choices, these decisions he did not want to make. He had never believed more then right at that moment that there couldn't be a God. If God existed then Dean didn't want to believe in Him, not if He could let teenagers make deals with devils and suffer until they broke.

Dean had days left. Days. Unsure as he was of so much, he couldn't let Malak have the last word, whatever that meant this time.

He nodded to his brother and friend. "Okay," he said, "Let's do this."

It was a Friday, busy even early in the morning with students bustling about Prior Lake High School. It was a school of about 1000 students total, not much in the grand scheme of things and nothing compared to Leven's school, but good enough for there to still be a 'needle in a haystack' feel to this. They had to find two demons amongst all those students and Sam couldn't sense them.

They had considered going to Meagan and Miriam again to see if they could fish out better leads, but there didn't seem to be any direct connection with the girls to the school. They were past college age and neither was a teacher; they merely lived close by. So the hunters decided to split up and scope things out as students arrived.

Dean was stationed near the entrance with Ellen and Jo, trying not to look too conspicuous hanging about a high school. There seemed to be a lot of parents around anyway, or at least non-teacher adults since school hadn't started yet. Sam and Sarah were at another entrance, and Sasha and Bobby at the last.

Relying on direct visuals, Sam and Dean were their best bets for spotting the demons, and if they didn't then at the very least they would all have a better understanding of the school's layout. Dean was not pleased with the somewhat 'mall' look to the place, as if the town had been worried a new school wouldn't pull in enough students or funds and would have to be sold to Starbucks and Hollister and Hot Topic and such. Talk about pessimism. Or maybe it was just the consumer culture taking over yet another facet of life.

Dean really needed to stop watching Oprah on his downtime.

He called Sam on his cell. "Bell's gonna ring soon," he said, "We have a plan if we don't spot these kids? It's not gonna be all that easy just hanging around all day hoping we run into the right ones."

"I know," Sam sighed over the line, "We could try a locator spell. Or I could try and summon the faint sense I get of these demons even if it's not strong," he suggested quickly, knowing Dean would shoot that idea down anyway, "But even if we did that, it might call too much attention if these kids get sucked out of school coz we've summoned them body and demon to our hotel rooms."

Ellen and Jo were spread out away from Dean somewhat, but they caught his eye and were making their way back to him. It wasn't as if they really knew what they were looking for except for Dean or Sam to suddenly say, "There!"

"Let's stay as long as we can," Sam continued, "We could always go so far as to put salt at all the entrances except one and then watch that door after school until we spot them."

"Yeah, coz high schoolers rushing out the doors wouldn't break the line at all," Dean scoffed. He hung up as Ellen and Jo reached him. This was feeling a little more futile than Dean had been hoping. "So," he started to ask them.

"Detective?"

That voice was only vaguely familiar but Dean was pretty sure he knew where he knew it from as it made all of the hair on his body stand up. He turned towards the door behind him and was not surprised to see both Meagan and Miriam walking towards him.

"Don't tell me you judge Speech competitions in your spare time?" Miriam went on, "Gotta love make-up snow days when we can have tournaments on a Friday instead of Saturday, huh? Do you have children that go here?"

Make up snow day? Speech tournament? Oh they were so in over their heads.

Whatever was going to happen with those demons, this school, and the sisters, it was already in motion. Today.

"Aha…hey there," Dean began, searching for whatever explanation would help them best right now, "Uh…no, actually, no kids here, but…my step-daughter," he said, grabbing Jo around the shoulders, "Is a senior in Shakopee. Last tournament of the year, figured I couldn't miss it." Dean hoped he was right about this being the last Speech tournament but figured it was a safe bet being almost May. Neither Meagan nor Miriam corrected him.

Jo, on the other hand, was looking at him murderously for making her eighteen, though she could pass for it easy enough. But it was when Dean reached for Ellen that he knew he would be on the Harvelle women's hit list from that point on.

"Miss Daniels, Mrs. Wiedenhoeft," Dean strained to smile, "My daughter Jo," why bother making up names, "and my…wife, Ellen." If Hell didn't get him next week, karma sure as Hell would. Or Ellen's rifle.

"Nice to meet you," Meagan smiled politely, Miriam nodding in kind, "Your husband's job brought him to our doorsteps yesterday," she explained to Ellen, who she had to be thinking was some mid-life crisis cougar to be with Dean, which was definitely what was going to get Dean killed at the end of this.

"I don't suppose you've found out anything you can share," Miriam stressed. They were nice young women, that was obvious enough, but that didn't mean they enjoyed having memories of their dead brothers brought up without any given or good reason. Sometimes Dean wished he could tell the truth, but he knew better than to think it would make things easier in this case.

He smiled tightly. "Sorry, not yet, but I think we might have a break in the case soon," no lie there, "Believe me, once we know something…you'll know." Definitely not a lie. At least with this new development, their search would probably be limited to the kids on the Prior Lake Speech Team. Now they just had to find out who those kids were.

"Meg! Mim!" called over an excited younger male voice.

"Please tell me you're judging Doubles," came another.

A lump rose in Dean's throat as he caught sight of the two teenager boys approaching the sisters. One was taller, too thin, blonde with glasses but good looking enough that he wouldn't be in the geek category even as a Speech kid. The other was more average all around, except for brown hair that stuck out every direction like Harry Potter's. Well, like in the 4th movie. It wasn't as if Dean had time to read the books.

Both boys were dressed in dress pants and nice shirts, which made Dean feel silly for not having realized—though neither had the others—that all of the students around them were dressed up more than they would be for a normal day at school. Other than that the boys might have seemed just like any other teenagers with possible crushes on their Speech coaches if not for the way their true faces looked to Dean.

Days from damnation—days—Dean had began to realize that when saw a demon's true face and felt repulsed and nauseated by it, it wasn't because it was torn or bloody or sunken. It was because it was humanity twisted. He didn't know how else to say it.

"Ready for some wall-talking, boys?" Miriam smiled as she high-fived the brunette.

"Sean, Micah, this is Detective Stokes and his family," Meagan introduced.

"It's their first year," said Miriam, "Gonna go out with a bang too, right?"

That was what Dean was afraid of.

Sean and Micah each smiled at Dean, maybe checked out Jo for a moment, and then their attentions were back on Meagan and Miriam, begging for the girls to listen to their Doubles Speech one last time before the competition started. They didn't seem to notice anything about Dean, no recognition of a Winchester that so many other demons seemed to show on their faces, but then why should they. They hadn't been demons for long.

Five years ago they were Meagan and Miriam's brothers.

tbc...

A/N: Maybe a bit shorter but then you'll be getting the next chapter ASAP. Confused about what Malak wants Dean for and what he's planning? You should be. Unsure what's going to happen next? You probably won't see it coming, but things will become more and more revealed to you as we count down to the end of the deal.

Am I losing my touch? Most of you are so kind with reviews, but I feel like this arc has been mediocre, or maybe that's just because the last one was so high-impact and got such a crazy reaction. And I'm sort of anxous to just get passed the deal finally. Thanks for those sticking with me. I hope I haven't lost any of you who don't review as much to let me know they're there. Not to make you feel guilty or anything... ;-)

Oh! And I am extending the drabble contest until after the new episode as I only have a few entries and I want MORE. Come on people. 100 words or less, with the word 'presents' or even 'presence' somewhere in it. Please?

Crim