So, this is AU I guess. It's post how I'd love the series to end: Cas back with his angel mojo and Bobby back because Cas is awesome and got permission to bring him back.

Attack of the Crazy Psycho Bitch

It was supposed to be a run of the mill ghost hunt. Find the bones stuck somewhere in the walls of the huge mansion that looked about ready to collapse and salt and burn the mother fucker killing the kids that thought it'd be a good idea to spend the night there for a couple bucks. It was sad that that was considered the norm for them. Then that crazy psycho bitch had to show up.

"Sam!" Dean roared as his brother was thrown across the room, crashing into a termite eaten shelf. "You bitch!" he growled, raising his gun to do the bitch in. Note how he didn't use his trade mark word fugly. Mainly because the smirking woman standing before the Winchesters was drop dead gorgeous. Now if only she would drop dead.

"Stupid boy," she chided. "You can't kill me."

"Wanna bet?" Dean snapped, pulling the trigger. The witch went flying back when she was hit, and instead if making sure she was truly dead, the older Winchester's concern for his brother over-rode his common hunter sense.

"Sam!" He knelt by his brother. "Sammy, talk to me, man."

"Idiot," came Sam's labored reply. Dean grinned and helped his little yet bigger brother up. "She dead?" Sam asked, holding his head and looking around.

"Dead is a bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" was the reply that came from behind the brothers. They looked up and Dean cursed when he saw the bloodied witch standing and brushing herself off. "This was my favorite shirt," she snapped, her eyes going red. No whites.

Awesome. A demon witch. As if the experience with Ruby wasn't enough.

The brothers were sent flying and both were pinned to the wall, each stunned from the impact.

"You Winchesters are so annoying," she said as if she was talking to a little sibling. "You and your stupid little angel." She paused. "Where is your angel anyways?"

Dean just cracked a strained grin. "Oh, he's around." The hunter paused. "I don't recommend turning around anytime, bitch."

The demon witch's eyes went wide in alarm and she started to turn around but was stopped by a cold hand on her forehead. There was a flash of white and the boys and the witch collapsed at the same times, except the witch was dead, and the Winchesters were alive. Shaken up, but alive.

"Your timing is impeccable, Cas," Dean coughed, standing and brushing himself off. "You good, Sammy?" he asked, picking up his dropped gun

"Peachy," was the flat response. The angel frowned, his blue eyes unamused.

"I'll be at Bobby's," he said in his gruff emotionless voice before disappearing. The Winchesters ignored the rude gesture. That was just Cas for you.

"Dude, we still have to find those stupid bones," Sam pointed out, holding his throbbing shoulder.

Dean just grunted. "Shouldn't be so hard now that Bitchzilla is gone." Sam started to chuckle, then stopped short at the sight of another pissed looking lady standing at the door way. She held an old looking book, and her eyes were black.

"She was a bitch, but she was my sister." The demon started chanting in some foreign language, but it didn't take long for the boys to recognize it as some heavy magic.

"Oh, fuck-" There was a bright flash, cutting off Dean's curse, and then they were gone. The demon grinned.

"Have fun, boys."

Enter the Loser

I wasn't supposed to be there. I was supposed to be home. Watching my little cousin Isidro because my tia and tio were with my parents at a party neither of us wanted to be at. We were suppose to make cookies or brownies, depending on the outcome of three rock, paper, scissors games. Then we'd watch the Supernatural rerun that was on since it was on a four week spring hiatus. It was a safe plan, a plan I could handle, being the paranoid loser I was.

Then my tios found a legit babysitter. I didn't really mind. Isidro was kinda annoying sometimes anyway. And being home alone gave me sometime to read about the depressing life of some kids stuck in a dome raging war with the Darkness with my iPod dock blaring Run Around Sue Radio on Pandora. In case you're confused, I'm talking the Gone series. Michael Grant, you depressing genius you.

Anywho, it was a set plan. I like set plans. Especially when my allergies flare up because Oklahoma is bipolar and I end up looking like Tony Montana at the end of Scarface. Sometimes I think I'm OCD, but then I just say it's my guilty conscious that doesn't let me do anything. Then I remember how I can't leave my room without my bed made...

Sorry, rabbit trail. Back to the plan. My beautiful plan. Ruined by my best friend. Or my ex best friend. We didn't really talk much anymore. I think it has something to do with the fact we have every class together and we kinda burned out. That and the fact she's kinda insane with politics and religion and anything else people word wrong to set her off on a never-ending rant and I could care less about the things she rants about. I've learned to tune her out and give emotionless "huh"s and "that sucks"s when appropriate. And I can't even really complain about the ranting with out sounding hypocritical. I mean, I do the same thing. Well, it's more of a meaningless ramble about whatever's on my mind at the moment.

Ah fudge a monkey. I'm doin' it now. Sorry. Back to the plot line.

Shay called thirty minutes after my parents left and told me to go to the old Monster House. I don't know who it belonged to, but that's what we called it.

"Dude, don't you have work? And why?" I demanded, slowing my stirring of the brownie batter I started.

"Called in sick. And because I said. And I'm your best friend and you love me," she said. I didn't say anything, biting my tongue when the words: We barely talk and I stopped loving you when you totally ditched me and Tom for those jerks I initially save you from in junior high reclaimed you for their own devious plans. No. popped into my mind.

Instead I said in a teasing tone, "Your guilt trips have no power over me, demon. Why?"

"Just go or I'll tell the ginger you hate him."

Ginger. Tom. I scoffed. "Dude, he's my best guy friend. When one says hate to those types of friends, it is usually taken as a compliment."

"Ana," she started, pronouncing my name the only way I'd respond. On-ah. None of that Anna crap. Anna was a little girl name added in front of the word banana to sometimes show endearment. You wanna show me endearment? Call me mija or change banana to bahnona. Then I'll know you care. "This is important. And besides, you have no life. Just come. And bring a flashlight."

With that, she hung up and I stared at the phone in somewhat shock. The comment stung and I knew she was right, making it even worse. I looked down at my brownies in the process of being made, my too open house, then down at my own figure, a girl about ten pounds too curvey. I felt my will slowly crumple. Having no life sucked

I sighed, knowing the demon won, and set the batter in the fridge after covering it with a plastic cover thingy that looked like a shower cap, only thinner- you know which I'm talking about. I turned off the oven and put everything away I had gotten out. Mom always go onto me for leaving stuff out. I had a feeling I knew what Shay planned and if I died, I didn't want my mom mad at me. Plus, I wanted that manipulative jerk to have to wait on me.

I sniffled and popped another non drowsy Equate allergy pill. I grabbed my keys after slipping on my Joker and Batman converse. Two different shoes. Batman on my right foot, The Joker on the left. Shay said it was nerdy, but I didn't care. Another thing too different about us.

I started out the door and to my car, a hand-me-down black 05 model impala that use to belong to my sister Mara. She had wanted it white, but all my dad could find was black. She got the car I was supposed to get, a white Camry, because she had to go to O-trip for school and the impala ate too much gas for her to afford. I didn't have that problem since the only place I went to was school. Although I'm sure the huge scratch my younger cousins causes had something to do with her no longer wanting it.

I was about to lock the door, only to stop and bolt back inside, grabbed the salt shaker off the table, then headed out the door. As I said, paranoid. It wasn't until later I realized I forgot a flashlight.

It wasn't too horrible to read, was it? I take full credit for any and all grammar and spelling mistakes. Sorry if there was more Ana than the Bros. I was just trying to get the character set up. Anywho, what'd you think? Reviews and constructive criticism would be amazing.