Author's note: Okay, here I am with the next chapter. Really sorry it took me a while to update but I was so torn between the convention (yes, the guys are so much better in life than on the screen lol) and catching up with some things here and my current job and searching for the new one. But I will try to keep the updates coming faster :)

Many thanks for your reviews and support :)) I really appreciate it. Hope you'll like the new chap.

Chapter 3

The photograph on the front page of local news-paper was big and colorful, with a headline in tall black letters right above it. Lying on the bed, it was making Dean cringe every time he happened to pass by it. So not something he normally liked to see first thing in the morning, his years of practice and perhaps low standards assumed.

In the end he grabbed Bela's folder from the nightstand where he'd left if the previous night, found his cell phone and sank onto the coach. Dean opened the folder and started turning the pages slowly as he listened to the rings in the receiver. Nine victims over the last week. Two of them knew each other, and maybe it was the key, but then maybe not as the others seemed to have nothing in common at first sight, except that they were all dead now. Dean frowned and rubbed at his forehead. What was the pattern?

Four. Five…

"Dean?" Sam picked up the phone after the fifth ring interfering the flow of Dean's thoughts.

"Oh, hey, Sammy!" Dean greeted him cheerfully shaking off the numbness, automatic smile immaculately on his face and voice light. "How're things going? Where are you?"

"At Bobby's. Are you done there?"

"Nope, still in Pennsylvania," Dean winced making it sound like Pennsylvania was the last place on Earth where he'd want to be. "Gotta check something here first." His gaze slid to the news-paper again, totally against his will, and he hurried to look away.

"You mean it's the case after all?"

"Not really. Sort of. Dunno." Dean paused. "Listen, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Can you check a bunch of names for me?" Dean told him all nine of them and waited for Sam to scrabble them down. "I wanna know if these people were connected somehow. Two of them worked in the same company several years back, which isn't a big surprise since this place isn't exactly New York city. But I can't see anything else."

"No problem. I'll see what I can find, and call you right back."

"Thanks," Dean relaxed a bit, relieved that Sam didn't bring up the deal and his anxiety – which he started doing often lately, like in each and every conversation! – and all other crap that was making Dean wish to run away because talking about it over and over again knowing that there hardly was anything either of them could do to change the situation was unbearable. Besides, it made no sense. The closer the final date was, the less he wanted to think about it. "I know I could do some research here but…" he trailed off and shrugged apologetically as if Sam could actually see him.

"Um, Dean…" Sam cleared his throat. "Where are you?"

"In the motel, why?"

"Why are you whispering?"

"What? I am not!" He hissed.

"There! You did it again. What's going on, man?"

"Nothing! I am not. I'm just… I'm…" Okay, I'm what? Jesus!

"Oh, God! Dean! What, Bela's there?" The lack of an immediate answer was an answer itself. "Dude…"

"Look, one thing happened…"

"That thing? What were you thinking?"

"What?" Dean blinked. "No, not that thing, you perv! It's Bela, for God's sake. Gross! There was…um…" What? "An… accident, okay?"

"An accident. Right."

"Bite me, Sam!"

Sam cleared his throat. "How's she?" He asked with deliberate disinterest which Dean figured was mostly a cover for his brother's amusement.

His eyes darted towards the bathroom door, the water was still running behind it. "Annoying and insufferable, as always," he replied casually.

Sam chuckled. "Hard times, huh?" There was some muffled noise on Sam's end of the call which Dean failed to define. Until Sam clarified it. "Greetings from Bobby, by the way."

"Thanks. Done with your Halloween costumes yet?"

"Prepared the brooms."

"Awesome!" He grinned. "I'll catch up with the two of you as soon as I can, Sam. Promise."

"Hurry up if you don't want to miss pumpkin pie."

Pumpkin pie… Damn, he was so going to miss this stuff when… Okay, he had no idea if he was going to miss anything when he was dead. Wasn't sure he'd even remember the taste of anything down in the pit. Maybe he would forget, and some part of him hoped that it would be exactly what would happen because it would probably be easier to suffer if he didn't know what he'd left behind.

"Almost on my way, Samantha. Been practicing much in culinary lately?"

"You're just jealous, Dean."

"Sure as hell I am," Dean snorted. "You have fun and pumpkin pie there…"

"And poker," Sam added.

"Aw, come on! That's just not fair." Who of us is dying anyway? "Fun, pumpkin pie and poker. And me? I have to put up with a thieving… pain in the ass here. I don't see any logic in it."

"Good luck, dude."

Obviously, he was going to hang up.

"Wait a sec, Sam." Dean pushed himself off of the couch, came up to his bed and picked up the damned news-paper.

"What?"

"Add one more name to the list that I gave you."

Ten victims already.

Bela emerged from the bathroom as soon as he hung up, yawning and looking like… Well, like someone who had a very tough night, what with those dark circles under her eyes and a bruise on her forehead. It wasn't exactly what she normally had to deal with while doing her dirty business, that Dean figured right away. Yet, she was holding on pretty well for someone who nearly ended up in the hospital – or worse, had both of them been a little less lucky. Gee, she wasn't even whining and complaining! It almost deserved some respect!

"What again? You look like someone had just made you swallow a snail." Bela asked, all charm, when she registered a frown on Dean's face and deep crease between his brows. "Or is it just sunny morning that has this effect on you?"

"I bet you haven't seen this yet," Dean threw the folded news-paper at Bela but she didn't bother to try and catch it, out of surprise more than anything, so it landed on the bed right before her.

"A morning news-paper!" Bela's face lit up with excitement. "Who did you steal it from?" Curiously.

"Our neighbor, first door to the right. The man shoulda known better than leaving it without proper attention," Dean shrugged. "What? Gonna go and apologize for me?"

"Be good and I won't go to give you away," Bela flashed a smile at him and grabbed the stolen property on what sounded to her like "Yeah, you know everything about that" although she wasn't entirely sure. "Hope this fuss is not about the lack of cartoons on the last page." Her smile faded away momentarily as soon as her gaze met the headline on the front page. Slowly, she looked up locking her eyes with Dean's and swallowed uneasily, shocked and confused, wishing that the picture of decapitated body weren't so big and clear and, damn it, detailed. "But that's…"

"Yep! Another client. Someone found him early in the morning about a mile away from the track path." About a mile away from where they'd left the car last night. Dean rubbed at his eyes feeling silent fury growing inside of him. No one was supposed to die! Hell, one more life he couldn't save while being so close… It felt even worse now that he knew the exact number of his own days to live. "This guys work fast, I must say." He nodded towards the news-paper that Bela was still holding in her hands. "This folk barely had time to die and – voila! – he's already a local celebrity. They either had hard time rearranging their lead or they knew the murder was going to happen. Think they could've known it?"

"Is that what you ask people when you wiggle your fake ID of the FBI agent before their noses?"

"No, I can be sensible and compassionate when necessary," Dean disagreed with light smile.

"Mm, hardly believable," Bela regarded him, one brow arched elegantly. "Did they identify the body?"

"Yeah," Dean's smile dimmed. "The one named Ron Jenkins. Rings a bell?"

"No, why would it?"

"Just making sure," his eyes narrowed suspiciously for a moment. "Anyway, the whole thing is on page three. To sum it up and save your precious time, the guy went jogging last evening after the dinner and never came back again. His wife called the police."

"And his… head-"

"No trace of it."

Bela tossed the news-paper away as if it was something disgusting, like a dead rat or a pile of dirty socks, and shivered despite herself at the thought that it was probably a matter of unbelievable luck that she didn't take place of Ron Jenkins, whoever he was.

"What are we going to do now?" She asked forcing the image of possible outcome of her encounter with the spirit out of her mind, all business at once.

"I'm going to have a look at the crime scene and see if police missed something… that they weren't quite looking for, ya'know." Dean told picking up his jacket.

"You?" Bela's brows shot up in surprise.

Dean gave her a long appraising once-over.

"From now on, feel free to consider yourself off duty," he said pushing his arms through the sleeves.

"Excuse me? I must have missed the part where I was asking for your permission to be a part of this case."

"You're out of it."

"You're not leaving me behind," she scowled at him.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm doing. Go have a manicure or something. Have fun." Dean waved his hand dismissively at her. "I can't think about the job and about covering your ass at the same time."

"Too much mental work for you, yeah?" Bela folded her arms on the chest and added pity to her eyes.

He made funny face and stuck his tongue out at her feeling pretty stupid for the childish gesture, like he was some friggin' five-year old.

"I'm not going to take risks only because you're greedy beyond measure, sweetheart," on a wide smirk.

Because he didn't want her to get killed, Dean added mentally angry with himself at the thought. Because he… cared, in a way, damn it, which felt odd and uncomfortable and not quite right in his situation. Not because of her in particular, of course. It had nothing to do with Bela personally. He simply didn't want anyone to be hurt, or so he wanted to believe knowing in the back of his mind that he was lying to himself once again. But he… He wasn't a team-player. He didn't know what it felt like to worry about someone in that way – someone who wasn't Sam or Dad. Least of all Bela Talbot. He didn't like the feeling. Last night she gave him a great deal of gray hair and Dean wasn't looking forward to ever experiencing it again.

The discovery made Dean's own scowl deepen. He so needed to get over with all that crap and be out of here before… yeah, before it was too late.

"I see. And you got so altruistic how exactly?" Bela cocked her head slightly, eyes big and looking at him with sincere and innocent curiosity.

"It was a small bug that bit me back when I was a kid and poisoned me with humanity," Dean explained patiently as he searched for the car keys in the pockets. He wanted to make a crack on her probably having similar experience with the rattlesnake venom but decided to bite his tongue instead, knowing better than that.

"That so?"

Bela followed him to the car, yanked open the passenger's door without merest respect to Dean's joy and pride and took her seat before he had time to open his mouth to protest.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean growled ducking his head to look at her through his window.

"I'm going with you."

"No, you're not!"

"Yes, I am. And it is not a matter of negotiation. Please."

"Get out, Bela," he growled. "I don't have friggin' time for your games."

Bela buckled her seatbelt and looked down her nose at Dean who was definitely fuming and obviously debating the idea of hauling her out of the Impala.

"Try and make me change my mind," she offered with a mixture of challenge and threat.

On a huff Dean straightened up and gave last parting look to the motel room door considering… damn, so many things, and wondering how dragging Bela out of the car would backfire. But the truth was, everything that had happened the previous night and the news that arrived in the morning kind of threw him out in a way. All of that, and Death that was almost literary hovering in his shadow. Dean could even swear that from time to time he could see it when he chanced a glance over his shoulder. Too many disorienting things on his mind and right at the moment he was so not up to keeping a fight with that bull of a woman who, Dean was sure, could irritate shit out of Devil himself.

Shaking his head at the last thought, Dean erased a grin from his face, put on his best pissed-off expression and finally slid into the car. He snorted when she acknowledged his appearance by arching her brows, buckled his own seatbelt and did whatsoever to make it crystal clear that the idea of having her for a company was the least appealing of all. Displeased crease between Dean's brows deepened at the sight of her lips curving into a small half-smile. Hell, she seemed to be enjoying his obvious annoyance.

"Fine," he muttered turning the key in the ignition. "But when it comes to swinging, you're on your own."

"I saw him, Dean!" Bela snapped finally losing her cool and groaned with frustration when she thought she heard him smirk.

They were arguing. Again. No surprise here. Sitting in the Impala and heading north-west – towards the woods – once again, which okay, wasn't a big deal in the daylight when all possible primitive fears that only appeared when darkness was falling seemed utterly ridiculous and generally impossible.

Yet, Bela still had one fear left. It was mainly about one of them not making it to the final destination alive with the conversation heating up so quickly. And, God help her, she was almost sure she knew who would that be.

Her mood was steadily slipping ever since Dean tried to calm her down in that damned concerned voice that must have been working with hysterical blondes and little old ladies feeding her a bunch of crap about illusions and hypothermia and tricks of mind. Like he knew a thing about any of that! Oh, please! His, she knew, was slipping since she told him to go right to hell, and although Dean was doing his best to keep his poker face – yeah, she could see that even through the veil of rage before her eyes – but his jaw was twitching and his dead grip on the steering wheel was enough to tell her everything she needed to know.

Dean darted a quick glance at her feeling his brows drawing together against his will. The clouds were gray and low in the sky, just like the day before, promising more rain later perhaps, and absently he found them reflecting the mood he was in – dark and practically boiling inside, ready to burst out like a severe thunderstorm. Honestly, Dean couldn't tell what was holding him back for so long.

He threw the car into park in the exact same spot he left it the night before relieved to notice that everything looked quiet and deserted, and killed the engine. Thankfully, the police was long gone.

"Look, I'm not saying that you haven't seen anything, okay?" Dean pushed the door open. A rush of cold wind made him shiver involuntarily. "I'm just saying that it wasn't the Headless Horseman."

Bela climbed out right after him nearly pushed back by another blast and slammed the door furiously ignoring the burning glare that Dean gave her for treating his beloved car that way.

"Then who do you think it was?" She asked keeping her voice intentionally calm.

"I don't know," Dean rolled his eyes as he started down the barely seen path. "A moose." Bela snorted walking by his side, her arms folded on her chest, both as indication of her attitude and as a way to keep warmer. "A rabbit." He made a face. "It was dark like hell, for God's sake! I wonder how you saw anything at all."

"I saw the damned horse with… with something riding it." She repeated once again – for what felt like a millionth time since she woke up in the morning and found Dean Winchester treating her like she had serious mental problems which wasn't exactly what she was in a mood to put up with. Not after all the fun she'd been through lately. "You wanted to find the Headless Horseman. I saw him. What's your problem now, Dean? What do you want me to say so that you finally started taking me seriously?"

"I'm taking you seriously," he said quickly.

"Then why can't you just believe me?"

Because I still have some sanity left, he thought darkly. "Mm, where to start?"

She pursed her lips and didn't dignify that with an answer.

"So?"

"What?"

"Why, Dean?"

"Because…" He started but cut off shrugging and cleared his throat.

"What?" She growled.

"Well, see, you're still alive…"

"More of less," Bela made a face. "Much to your dismay, obviously. I take it, it's the fact that I'm still breathing that makes you so skeptical. Cute!"

Dean cringed inwardly at her wording.

"Aw, come on! If it really was honest-to-God Headless Horseman, in the flesh – figuratively speaking – why didn't he kill you?"

Bela stumbled, surprised. That thought never occurred to her.

"Why, thank you! It is what, the nicest thing that I've ever heard from you?"

"No, seriously. He let you escape just like that. Why? No one ever was lucky enough to get out alive, right? According to the legends or whatever. And don't tell me that I slipped and fell thing, sweetheart." He raised his hand when Bela only opened her mouth to disagree, his voice on I slipped and fell high pitched and girlish, all impression ruined by his poor attempt to imitate her British accent. "A spirit wouldn't have a problem with that."

"Are you trying to make me regret that I made it out in one piece or what?"

Her question gave Dean a start. "Listen, it's not what I…"

"You say a word about me having hallucinations, Dean, and I swear to God I'll beat you with my shoe."

It was so not her gig to be some freak! The very idea, together with Dean Winchester and his sympathetic looks that couldn't escape her were setting her teeth on edge. At this point, Bela's words were almost a dare. She wanted to have an excuse to punch him. Yet, he seemed to know better than that.

"So, what exactly are we looking for here?" She asked after a while if only to put an end to their silence. After what she saw last night, the whole place was giving Bela creeps making her wish to look over her shoulder every now and then to make sure they weren't followed. She was getting paranoid.

"I'll tell you when I find." And he gave her a cheeky smile.

The crime scene was three trees in the middle of nowhere with yellow police tape fluttering in the wind around them. It was impossible to make a usual outline with white chalk on wet fallen leaves so the position of body was marked with several sticks labeled to indicate the details. Still, it wouldn't have looked like a crime scene at all if only it wasn't for a huge crimson spot of blood, also marked and labeled to define its size.

Other than that, Dean found a terrible lot of footprints as if every single cop from every single unit in the state had been there that morning. That, and what Dean could have sworn looked exactly like tire tracks although there was no was he could've imagined any car coming that far into the forest. On the other hand, they had to transport the body somehow, so…

So they did a very good job with making it generally impossible for Dean to find anything of interest.

Frowning, he squatted down at the very edge between the crime scene and the rest of the world and peered intensely at the ground, knowing with one hundred percent accuracy that his chances to see something that could have helped him understand what had actually happened there were way below zero. All kinds of footprints were hardly of any use.

"If only the cops knew how much the fucked everything up," Dean shook his head, annoyed.

"They'd sure as hell call you first before starting the investigation, yeah?" Bela snorted somewhere behind.

He looked at her over his shoulder. "I coulda used that, ya'know. But this," he gestured around indicating the clearing, the crime scene and a great deal of forest with one sweep of his hand, "is a big fat pile of nothing."

"Well, what did you expect, Dean? Police, paramedics, journalists and God knows who else. Strange that we see what we see. Honestly, I thought the place would resemble a battlefield. How about your hound's nose? Doesn't work anymore? I thought you could find anything anywhere."

Damn this woman, Dean thought. But she was right, no matter how much he hated to admit it even in his mind. He shouldn't have expected much. Thoughtfully, he rubbed his chin and then stood up slowly, listening intensely – whether for the outer sounds or for the voice inside of his head to tell him what to do next he didn't know. But the good thing was that today everything around there felt different, what with these birds' chirping and other natural noises. It looked and sounded the way it was meant to, not dead, except for the yellow police tape.

"You know, actually…" He started, turning to Bela. But she wasn't looking at him. Head cocked and eyes narrowed, she was peering somewhere past him. "Bela?"

"What the…"

She went past Dean and around the marked spot led by whatever it was what caught her attention. He followed her gaze trying to see what she was seeing but failed and simply went after her instead, tripping on the stones and broken branches hidden under the fallen leaves and cursing under his breath. The day wasn't sunny and despite Dean's expectation the air was only getting colder as time was passing by. The memory of the previous night was practically rushing him back to the car, away from this place. Yet, one thing didn't let him do that – the picture of what this clearing looked like several hours ago. Not marked by blood.

Bela stopped at the tall tree, head thrown back and a frown on her face.

Dean looked up as well and started at what looked like a lot of very nice branches, most of them naked and knotty, looking like crooked fingers reaching into the sky. Very Addams Family view, he had to admit. He shuddered at the mental comparison. Damn his way too rich imagination.

"So, the tree," Dean drawled, his face grave. He looked at Bela. "Old friend of yours?"

She ignored him completely as if he wasn't anywhere there at all and reached for the lowest branch instead, her intentions more than obvious.

"Did I miss something?"

"Just help me up, would you please?" She huffed giving him a glare.

She didn't look like the one to argue with. Besides, she seemed to have a vague idea of what she was doing, so Dean swallowed his offer to help – not that she'd appreciate it anyway, ungrateful bitch that she was – and obliged without a word, curious. He linked his fingers to make a step for her foot and hoisted Bela up without so much of an effort – yeah, that he could do! – fascinated by how she was making her way up the tree with the grace of a wild cat.

"You're doing pretty good I must say," he commented to fill the silence more than anything.

Bela gave him a quick look from above and smirked. "Stop staring at my ass, Dean."

She could have sworn that he blushed a little although it was hard to say for sure assuming these fifteen feet between them and chilly air but he definitely hurried to look away making Bela smile to herself as soon as she turned away as well to get back to her task in hand.

She made her way up without any difficulty, her movements smooth and professional as though it was exactly what she was doing every day. Putting her weight on her left arm mostly, she was using the right one for support whenever there was need for it. Yet, she had to be very careful since the branches and the trunk were still wet and not really reliable in the matter of safety after the recent rain. Bela paused half way to her destination to catch a breath and throw another quick look down not quite fond of the height. Should she slip accidentally, her fall wouldn't be pretty. Saw Dean standing there with his head up and watching her, and continued her ascending cursing herself for not just letting him have all the fun.

"Are you robbing birds' nests or what?" Dean shouted.

"Asking from experience?"

The thing that Bela spotted from below wasn't all that high, some twenty or twenty five feet at most. She reached it in no time, really, even if it felt longer. Left hand clenched tightly around the branches, she retrieved her pocket knife from the back pocket of her jeans, flicked it open and effortlessly cut the rope that was tying the thing to the tree. Paused to give it a brief examining look and hemmed but decided to put her curiosity away till she had solid ground beneath her feet once again.

Bela stashed both her knife and her finding into the pocket of her jacket and started her slow way down moving automatically and generally on instinct; the flow of her thoughts – more questions than answers – streaming through her head.

Well, it was making sense after all. As much as any other crazy thing in this crazy world. And Dean Winchester might as well suck up…

Too lost in her thoughts, Bela let go off her concentration for a moment. She put her foot improperly on the lower branch and suddenly it slipped off the slick surface. The grip of her left hand on one of the branches tightened but it was too thick to hold on to it firmly. Instinctively, she grasped another one with her right hand. Her muscles flexed and immediately sharp pain shot through her injured shoulder and down her arm.

The foot that by this moment had already had no support forgotten, Bela gasped in pain and unclenched her fingers, panic arriving too late. She knew she was going to fall again – what was wrong with this damned place? – and knew she could hardly do anything about it. It just happened too fast, too…

Dean saw that something went wrong– couldn't miss it, naturally, what with his eyes never leaving Bela – and right away he knew where it led. Strange how it looked to him, like a slow motion replay, with her being alright one moment and losing her balance some ten minutes later, each second stretching to a minute. Even with fifteen feet between them he saw how her fingers slipped off the rough surface, grazed against it one more time in an attempt to have better grip but it didn't work. He stretched his arms out even before the image registered fully in his mind, and the next moment she slipped right into the circle of them, surprised, and grasped at his shoulders for support. Dean staggered from the impact but somehow managed to keep them both from falling, his arms holding her tight against his body.

Bela caught her breath when, without a warning, she was flooded by the smell and warmth of him; the touch of his palms felt almost burning to her waist even through several layers of her clothes.

Now that was unexpected, Bela thought staring at Dean's face and taking small sharp intakes of breathe to calm down, her heart pounding like crazy in her chest confused by the unexpected intimacy of the moment. The realization that she was not going to break anything and end up in the hospital or elsewhere any time soon making its way slowly into her mind. Against better judgment they kept still for a long moment staring at each other.

"Thank you," Beal breathed out when some time passed and none of them moved and she felt like she had to do something about it even if she didn't really want to.

"Couldn't make it easy even now, sweetheart?"

"Let go off me," she scowled momentarily. He might have as well poured out a bucket of cold water on her head.

He obliged by jerking his hands away from her. Feeling strangely embarrassed by whatever it was that had just happened, Dean looked up the tree once again since it was the only thing he could do without making it obvious that he was avoiding her eyes and cleared his throat.

"So, what have you got, Bela? Or was this trip up just for fun?"

Not saying a word, Bela fished out her trophy and tossed it at Dean.

He caught it automatically and peered at it, puzzled. Looked up at her then. "A hex bag?" His voice unbelieving.

"You're even smarter than I thought," she snorted. "Right, genius. A hex bag. The question is – protecting or summoning?" She folded her arms on the chest.

"Depends on the contents," Dean threw the brown leather bag into the air like a ball and caught it right away. "And on why someone left it here." His eyes darted up once again.

"Could be just a coincidence," Bela shrugged.

Dean scoffed and gave her a skeptical look. "There is no such thing as coincidence. Not when this kind of stuff is involved." And he shook the bag before her face. "Any bright ideas?"

"I found it," she pointed out ducking away from his hand. "The rest is up to you, Dean. Fair share."

And, damn it, she said it like they were two kids making sure that their house chores were divided equally and no one had to do more than the other which caused Dean to chuckle. He thought she was more mature than that. Yet, she did spot the frigging hex bag – and where were his eyes, for that matter? – so…

"It's not like…" Dean began on an instinctive urge to argue against every word coming out of Bela's mouth, and hey, his ability to get her Brit slang improved since the previous day! He felt anything but proud of it.

But at this point he was rudely interrupted by a faint "Help!" followed after a short pause by a fainter "Hello?" and something else that he couldn't understand clearly, the wind and constant noise carrying the sound of the voice away from them.

Both Dean and Bela froze and then exchanged puzzled looks.

"You hear that?" Dean asked in a low voice at the exact same time when Bela wondered:

"Where is it coming from?"

"Um… there?" Dean looked around and poked his finger somewhere behind his back, unsure.

"I think it's there," she supposed nodding in the opposite direction, also pretty uncertain. It seemed to her that the voice was all around them, and it faded away too fast to register the source.

"We've gotta find him… them. Wherever they are," Dean muttered with firm determination and started into the forest picking random direction.

"How…?" Bela followed him through the bushes giving up mentally on her clothes.

"Hey!" Dean called out loudly and stopped for a moment to listen for possibly response before starting to walk again. "Where are you?"

"Oh, crap!" Bela cursed as she tripped and barely caught her balance before she flew face down to the ground.

"You okay there?" Dean asked without a hint of concern and not looking back.

"Terrific," she huffed blowing her hair off of her face and making attempts to burn Dean Winchester down to ashes with her eyes.

He muttered back something incomprehensible as if he didn't really care. "Hello? Hey, keep talking, okay?" Obviously addressing mysterious person in trouble, which made Bela grit her teeth.

Finally, she caught up with him and they stopped between two enormous oaks.

"Now what, Mr. Nice Guy?" She asked trying to steady her breath.

"It wasn't just me, you heard it, too," Dean told her defensively.

Hands on her hips, Bela regarded him with a great deal of condescension, her head cocked slightly to her shoulder. "Yes, I don't deny obvious things. And wasn't it you…" She started in mock surprised voice.

"Anybody there?" The same voice shouted suddenly interrupting her although it didn't quite look like shouting, too low to be called so. "I'm here! Help me!" And wherever this here was, it definitely was much closer than the previous time. Now it was clear that the voice belonged to a man, a young one, no doubt.

Dean snapped his head to the right, all alert. He scanned the area as if attempting to see through the trees and earth.

"There," he breathed out and started to run, Bela close on his heels without a word. "Keep talking!" He yelled back. "Damn it," under his breath.

He was the first to reach the spot – a small clearing with its floor covered with dry branches. It was impossible to miss the gap somewhere around the middle of it, definitely a hole. Dean skidded to a halt burying the heels of his boots into the ground, the speed of his pace too high to make his stop immediate. His arms flew into the air to keep his balance, and the next moment Bela stumbled into his back, unable to stop just as quickly as she didn't expect him to do so.

"What? Black cat crossed your path?" She asked taking a small step back and then sneaked a peek into the clearing over Dean's shoulder with curiosity.

"Careful," he warned her in a low whisper, eyes never leaving the gap. "Hey, you there?" he called out. Whoever you are.

There was a gasp, loud and surprised. "Oh, my God. Please, help me! Get me outta here!" The voice was frightened, hope and panic ringing in it – hard to say which of them was dominating. "Don't leave, please!"

"Calm down, buddy, okay? No one's going anywhere." Dean assured quickly that invisible victim of bloody carelessness. And how else could one end up like that if not because of not paying proper attention to where they were going?

Natural hole or a man-made trap covered with branches, it did its job just fine.

"Gotta get him out of there," Dean told Bela, and she nodded curtly. "Watch out, it could be bigger than that," he nodded towards the gap about two feet in diameter considering their possibilities and obvious risks.

Together they cleared off some branches, careful not to step onto them until they were sure there was solid ground beneath them instead of God knows how much emptiness.

Finally two heads poked into what turned out to be a hole four feet in diameter and narrowing to the bottom. It wasn't that deep, some fifteen feet or less but steep uneven walls were making climbing out of it without a rope or help pretty much impossible.

The light falling into it revealed a teen boy with a face covered with mud stains and rumpled hair, his clothes and hands dirty as well. Apparently, he was optimistically trying to make it out on his own. For a while at least. Right at the moment he was covering his eyes with his hand, squinting as he tried to have a better look at his saviors.

"Hey there, kiddo," Dean greeting him relieved to see no obvious damage. "You okay?"

The boy hesitated, torn between giving honest answer – What the hell do you expect to hear? Do I look okay? – and gratitude. "Guess so," he replied after a pause. "Can you help me out?"

"Sure thing." I only have to figure out how, and we're done. "How did you get there?"

"I… I was running… and then I was here. I… fell, I guess."

"Don't you people ever look where you go in the forest?" Dean mumbles chuckling and giving Bela a pointed meaningful look.

She let his comment slip – had to fight back a wish to elbow him wherever she could reach – and frowned when sudden realization, a guess, struck her.

"Are you Mark?" She demanded.

"Yeah," he responded. "How'd you know?" With surprise.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Dean echoed beside her as his head turned towards her.

Bela was looking at the boy but she could literary feel Dean's gaze. "It's his Daddy who is financing this search party," she explained in a whisper, and added louder so that Mark could hear her, too. "We've been looking for you."

He seemed to be okay with such explanation not quite interested in details, and honestly, she couldn't blame him for that. "Oh," was all that he said. "Um… thanks."

"Just stay put down there, Mark, alright? We're going to get you out right away," Dean promised somewhat cheered by the fact that they managed to accomplish at least one task and fins something – someone – beside the questionable hex bag.

He straightened up, face puckered with thoughts. Bela watched expectedly as he kept throwing quick looks around and into the hole and then at her and then around again. Finding the boy seemed to give him a new burst of energy – something to concentrate on instead of lazy wandering around the woods.

"Okay, no way to drag his ass up without a rope," he admitted in the end. "I'll go to get one from the car. You stay here," he instructed Bela looking very busy by the second and wiggled his finger at her for good measure.

"What? Again? No!" She protested.

Dean took a breath. And there they were again!

"Look, the kid's freaked out like hell," he lowered his voice so that Mark couldn't hear. "How long he's been here? Five days? We can't just both walk away. He'll go crazy! Can't you be human just for once? I'll be right back."

Bela clenched her teeth holding back a string of arguments against his offer. The idea of staying alone in the damned forest – oh, yeah, with a spooked teen, probably starving and barely holding on after all this time in this trap – was not exactly her idea of fun. What a consolation! The day was getting better and better. Wonderful!

Yet, it wasn't exactly what she was up to saying out loud to Dean Winchester. She wasn't some whining princess, for God's sake! He was so not going to forget it – like, ever! So, she only gave him a glare, the one that would probably kill him had it been possible.

"Fine!" Dean beamed when she said nothing and patted her one the shoulder with such enthusiasm that Bela's knees almost buckled. Her frown deepened but the next moment he was gone and her irritation was left unappreciated. Who the hell he thought he was, that bloody arrogant annoying…

"Hey, um… he's left, right?" The sound of Mark's voice gave Bela a start snapping her back to reality. "He's not there anymore?"

Absently, Bela looked at where Dean disappeared.

"We need the rope to get you out," she said keeping her voice calm and soothing. "He'll be back soon."

"No, not that guy you cam with." Mark shook his head. "This… creature."

"Creature?" As suspicious started to build inside of her, Bela knelt at the edge of the hole once again and looked at the boy's face not quite sure she liked the conversation in general. "What creature?"

"I don't know." He didn't seem to like it any better than she. "All black and big, I was running away from it before I ended up here. Tell me it's not somewhere there anymore."

Mark's words made Bela's blood run cold in her veins and she felt her hair rising on the back of her head. She swallowed uneasily and bit her lip. Her eyes darted back and towards the trees once again as she mentally hushed Dean to come back soon. God, could this thing be here in the daylight?

His cell phone started to ring when Dean was nearing the Impala. His breath heavy from the run, he flipped it open while retrieving the car keys from the pocket of his jacket. His fingers grazed against the hex bag. Was it just him and his damned overreaction or could he really feel something watching him? Dean paused to give the trees a long look and shook his head. It was so not right!

"Sam?" He dove into the trunk searching for what he came here for in the first place and came out with a thick hank. "Tell me you found something."

"Actually, I did."

To be continued...

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