"God dammit Dean."

He sounded angry but Dean didn't care. Sammy didn't know what that scream meant. All their careful planning had gone out the window the moment that horrible sound had hit Dean's ears. He had kicked down the front door, shotgun at the ready, in full hero mode. He wasn't worried about himself. He knew despite Sam's protests he would always have his back. Nothing could change that. Not the apocalypse, not double crossing demons, not stupid time traveling angels, nothing.

He stood inside the house trying to slow the beating of his heart enough to be able to hear anything. He gulped in the sour air in raged breaths. Dean didn't panic often but that scream had undone something in him. He didn't want to admit it but he knew that sound. He had heard it's like a thousand times over until he couldn't take it anymore. Back then it had been coming from his own throat as Alistair sliced and diced him like a freaking su chef. It was the sound of complete agony. Beyond pain, beyond fear, beyond dispair. It was the sound someone made after their requests for death have been denied.

Now the silence was mocking him. How the hell can you save someone you can't find? He turned towards the stairs leading to the darkened second floor. He would search each room until he found the source of that aweful sound. Something stopped him. Dean would have called it a gut feeling but perhaps it was more like divine intervention telling him to go down. Down into the basement. He could hear Sam coming up the walkway but he didn't pause. Instead he continued to move. As he neared the door he could make out a faint whimper.

"Sam, Downstairs." He said it like an order and left no room for discussion. He felt his brother step in to cover him as he opened the door. He reached across the threshold and flipped the switch. "Why do I even bother? Dam lights never work."

Sam smirked behind him. Dean's odd sence of humor had a calming influence on him. It was when Dean got serious that Sam started to worry. "Here" Sam pulled out the two small maglights he had stuffed in his pocket as he had raced into the house after his reckless brother. "Some of us actually came prepared."

"You're a regular girl scout. I'm might even buy some cookies from you." Dean smirked at Sam. Grabbing the flashlight he held it with one hand while he continued to lead with the shotgun. Slowly down the stairs. He could make out the soft sound of sobbing. He tried to remain calm. Tried to remember the reason they were at this house was because it was haunted. Ghosts could be tricky. This could all be part of the show. That was the logical part of his brain talking but his gut was still screaming at him that someone needed his help. Someone needed him to save them.

As his foot touched down on the packed dirt floor Dean scanned the room. In the far corner he saw something. All he could tell for sure was that it was the source of the sobbing. "You seeing this?"

"Yeah, I'll cover you." Sam turned as Dean moved closer. Making sure nothing could come up behind them while Dean checked out the huddled mass in the corner.

Dean knelt down tucking the shotgun under his arm, Reaching forward he watched as the figure flinched. Dean could see a mass of golden blond hair matted and bloody. When his hand touched her shoulder he felt the sticky heat of more drying blood. Female, maybe 15 maybe 25. It was hard to tell when she was crouched in the fetal position wearing filthy and torn clothes. "What did this to you?" He asked the words softly and was startled when she turned her face quickly towards him. He found himself staring into a pair of the most intense green eyes he had ever seen. He almost took a step back before he caught himself.

"Ramiel." Her voice was dark and gravelly but despite her current state she sounded strong.

AN. So there is my tease. Not to worry. There is plenty more to come.