DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SUPERNATURAL, SAM, DEAN OR CALM DOWN, BY KILLING HEIDI, BUT ALL CHARACTERS THAT ARE NOT THE WINCHESTERS, ARE MINE. ORPHANAGE IS MADE UP; I THINK…I DON'T KNOW, I LIVE IN AUSTRALIA…LOL.

WARNINGS: MILD LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE IN THE FORM OF WINCHESTER ASS-KICKING AND FUTURE SEXUAL CONTENT (DON'T WORRY, NO SAM/DEAN PAIRINGS-I DON'T THINK I COULD BRING MYSELF TO WRITE OR EVEN THINK ABOUT WRITING WINCEST, I LOVE THE BOYS TOO MUCH!) JUST KEEP READING; YOU'LL CATCH ON. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT IDEA; IM NOT FORCING YOU TO READ.

A/N: HEY ALL! HERE'S ANOTHER FANFIC, I KNOW I SHOULD PROBABLY FINISH THE OTHER'S I'VE STARTED, BUT I GOT THIS IDEA AND I JUST HAD TO GET IT DOWN. DON'T WORRY I'M WORKING ON MY OTHERS; I HAVEN'T GOT MUCH ELSE TO DO, BECAUSE IM SICK…ENJOY! REVIEWS MORE THAN WELCOME, AS IS CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISM.

SUMMARY: SAM HAS A NIGHTMARE THAT LEADS THE BROTHERS TO AN OLD HAUNTED ORPHANAGE IN MINNESOTA-RATED M, JUST TO BE SAFE.

PROLOGUE

Winona, Minnesota-2: 25am-Greylake Orphanage:

"Damn old places with their damned dust bunnies," Kaitlyn Jones muttered to herself, suppressing another sneeze, more dust billowing upwards as she pushed the nest door open.

"Are you in here?" She called out sweetly, waiting momentarily, before backing out, sighing disappointedly.

This was proving more difficult than she first thought.

"Easy job my ass," she murmured, stalking down the corridor, toward yet another flight of steps. "Kill the bad guy, release the innocent children from their eternal prison, and torch the house, in and out. Fuck! Does he even know the size of this place?" She had to keep talking.

The silence was disturbing her.

"When your head is spinning," She began to sing as she began her ascent up the rickety old staircase. "And you're feeling overwhelmed,"

27…28…29…She counted the steps in her mind

"And your ears are ringing, cause your heart is beating so damn loud,"

She came to the landing and looked both ways, trying to determine whether to go left or right.

"And your head is head is numbing, and your heart is pumping out,"

Kaitlyn chose her direction and began to move cautiously forward.

Without warning, there was a sudden temperature drop on the landing, causing the woman's breath to come out in wisps. A light appeared in the middle of the hall and three angelic, innocent looking boys stood before her.

"He's coming," one whispered, eyes darting around frantically.

"And he's not happy," said the child in the middle.

"He will punish you," Said the next, and then they melted away, still leaving the hall in chill.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she spun around, coming face to face with the evil son of a bitch that she'd been hunting.

She wasn't ready.

"Hiya!" She said cheerfully.

"Bye," she turned on her heal and legged it down the hall and around the corner.

"Well it feels like you're running, and your feet won't touch the ground," She panted, attempting to calm her nerves.

She leant against a wall and pulled a shotgun from under her trench coat. She loaded it with rock salt and jumped around the corner, ready to shoot, but the man was gone.

"Shit," she muttered. "Calm down, calm down, all my defenses are down, calm down, calm down, calm down," she breathed.

Kaitlyn then felt cold fingers wrap around her throat, cutting off her air supply. The shotgun fell from her hand and clattered harmlessly to the floor.

The spirit lifted her into the air and turned her to face him.

"Calm down, calm down…now all your defenses are down," He said coldly, slamming her into a wall hard.

Black spots swam in front of her as pain exploded in the back of her head. Her lungs were screaming for air, and she knew that she would pass out.

"Calm down, calm down," He cackled as she lost consciousness and slid to the floor.

The spirit grabbed her by the ankle and dragged her down the steps.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Was the noise her limp body made as he pulled her down the stairs.

He smiled wickedly as he pulled her into the treatment room to be punished.

Calm down, ca-a-alm down…


WHAT HAPPENED THAT NIGHT;

WHAT THEY WITNESSED,

SENT TWO BROTHERS,

ON A QUEST FOR ANSWERS,

22 YEARS LATER…

SUPERNATURAL-THE FACES OF INNOCENCE.

CHAPTER ONE: Conversations

OoOoOoOo

Dean Winchester looked over at his younger brother, who continued to stare out the rain-streaked window.

He had been silent now, for far too long.

"Sammy?" Dean asked changing gears and shifting his eyes back to the slick road.

"Hmmm?" Came the young man's mumbled reply.

He hadn't even been bothered with correcting him.

"Bro, are you okay?"

Sam shot his older brother an angry glare.

"You're doing it again Dean," The shaggy haired brunette pointed out.

"Doing what?" Replied Dean innocently; trying not to show that he was slightly amused.

He did so like to irritate his brother.

"You know perfectly well what your doing! Dammit Dean, I'm not a fucking baby anymore!"

Sam didn't mean to snap. He was tired, and he ached, his long body longing for a mattress, a pillow and a blanket, instead of the cramped confines of his brothers '67 Chevy Impala.

Dean grinned and reached over to ruffle his kid brother's hair.

"You'll always be baby Sammy to me," He laughed

Sam slapped the offending limb away.

" Gerroff!" he mumbled

Dean sighed. "Whatever dude,"

Sam continued to stare out into the night.

What the hell is wrong with me? He asked himself. Why do I feel so angry?

Was it the feeling of dread that was suddenly creeping up on him, that was causing his emotions to flare up?

Or was it the guilt, that he had almost killed his brother nearly three day's earlier.

It may have been both, but he wasn't entirely sure.

They continued to drive in silence, until Dean got bored with the quiet. He slipped a tape into the player, and turned the volume up.

Metallica blasted through the old car.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. He was growing increasingly tired of Dean's so called 'music.'

Usually he'd go along with the general rule of 'driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole,'

But tonight, he just wasn't in the mood.

The younger man growled and forcibly punched the eject button on the player, catching the cassette as it flew out.

"Dude! What are you doing? I was listening to that!" Dean protested, making a move to grab the tape.

"Well, not anymore," Sam said, rolling down the window. "And not ever again,"

The tape took a swan dive.

Sam had tossed it out the window, smiling with satisfaction as the tape smashedinto a million pieceson the road. It meant Dean couldn't turn around and retrieve it.

Dean couldn't have been more pissed. He didn't think he had ever been this angry with his brother.

Dean's face was red with rage.

"THAT WAS MY FAVORITE FUCKING TAPE!" he bellowed, pressing his foot on the accelerator.

"Get over it Dean, it's a tape, for Christ's sake," Sam said.

"JUST A TAPE? Dude,it was Metallica!"

Sam shrugged. It made no difference to him who it was. He wasjust grateful for the silence.

"I swear Dean, you obsess over the stupidest things!"

Dean didn't answer. Sammy just didn't get it.

OoOoOoOoOoO


As the night wore on, so did the gas, and Dean knew he'd have to stop soonand fill up his car.

Sam had fallen asleep at least two hours earlier, and although Dean very much wanted to murder his baby brother, he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Damn Sammy and his pathetic, innocent girl looks," Dean cussed, smiling slightly though, despite the situation.

When Dean felt his lids getting heavier, he thought it would be a good idea to ask about a close, cheap motel, when he did actually find a gas station, before he fell asleep at the wheel.

Dean drove on, and five to ten minutes later, his prayer had been answered, as the neon sign of a gas station loomed ahead.

"If there is a god, thank you,"he muttered, pulling up at a pump, andgetting out to fillthe tank.

He was tempted to wake his brother and make him do it, but the boy needed his sleep.

When the pump clicked to a hundred, he pulled the nozzle out, hung it back in its holder and went inside.

The woman at the counter smiled at him as he picked a few munchies off the shelf. He returned the smile with one of his million dollar grins, and he swore she almost swooned.

He put the items on the counter and pulled out his wallet.

"Cash or credit?" She asked, blushing.

"Credit thanks…Leanne," he said reading the nametag.

She blushed further, if it were even possible.

She returned his card and he started to walk away, before remembering that he and his brother needed a place to stay.

"Hey Leanne? Do you know of any motels, close by, I mean?" he asked.

"Umm yeah, actually, there's one about half a mile down the road, you can't miss it.Its called Pine grove Inn, has a bar and a pool, too," She grinned.

She was very pretty.

"Thank you very much, Leanne," he said with a genuine smile.

He paused again, then grabbeda pen out of one of the jars on the counter, took the woman's hand and scrawled his number onto the soft skin.

"The names Dean," he said winking, before walking out of the store.

"Bye Dean!" she called after him, giggling. He was hot!

She watchedintently asthe manslid into his classic car and revved it, before screeching out onto the wet road.

"All in a day's work," he said to himself, smiling.

Just as Leanne promised, there was a motel half a mile up the road.

He sighed with relief, as he pulled into the parking lot, grateful that the vacancy sign was on.

He decided to leave his brother asleep for the time being as he got out of the car andheaded forthe hotel lobby.

"Hi, may I help you?" asked a man in his early forties, as he ignited a cigarette.

"Yeah, I would like a room please, maybe for three days," Dean said smiling.

"Okay, king or two queens?" he asked.

"Two queens," Dean, answered automatically. He was used to this question by now.

" Cash or credit,"

Dean handed the man his credit card, a different one to the one he used at the gas station.

"Okay Mr. Gray, you will be in room 320, just round the corner," he said handing Dean the keys.

Dean nodded his thanks and walked back to the car.

He opened the passenger side door and allowed his brother to fall onto the wet gravel. Dean laughed when he heardthe gruntof protestcoming from his younger brother.

Sam got up and brushed himself off, before shuffling around to the trunk to join Dean. The eldest grabbed all their belongings and tossed the room key to Sam.

"320," he said, closing the trunk.

Sam found the room and opened the door. It was a lot nicer than all the others, but it was stillabitshabby. Sam chose the bed closet to the bathroom, and sat down as Dean entered and slammed the door shut.

"I shot the first shower," Dean said, throwing Sam's duffel bag to him. Sam caught it easily.

"Whatever bitch,"


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