Burn It to the Ground

Kassia's POV

Of all the crazy things that we were expecting to seeing in the same room as my sister, it had to be John Winchester, a man who I didn't know much about except the fact that he was Dad's old hunting partner back in the day- or according to my references. I was quite relieved to know that Maura wasn't being eaten by a bunch of werewolves, even if I was contradicting with what I had said earlier that night. Sam and Dean's little family reunion with their dad only made Maura and I uncomfortable, since none of what they were talking about had anything to do with us. John was telling his boys that they had to leave and not look back, as if they never crossed paths with him. Sam and Dean had just found out that their father was well and very much alive; what kind of father would demand his own sons such a thing?

Dean appeared as if he was going to listen to John's command as he turned on his heels towards Maura and I; Sam however had another thing coming. “Whatever it is, we can help.” Sam declared sternly, as Dean stopped to gawk at his brother suspiciously. It was obvious that he and his father weren’t expecting that from Sam.

"You can't." John declared to a determined Sam. "You can't be in any part of it."

I was quite aware that Sam wasn't taking his response too kindly. Dean had told me back in Cheyenne that Sam and his dad weren't on speaking terms; that they had a huge argument before he went off to college. If Sam was on the same boat with me over fathers, it may turn into a nightmare. "What- why not?" he snapped back, giving John a baffled stare.

John kept a straight face, not once batting an eye. "I'll be fine. You're gonna have to trust me on this." Sam wasn't too sure on that and neither was I. I may not have known the man well enough yet, but he sure did share some of the same qualities as my own father; too protective of his children and always caught up with hunting. If it drove me insane, I could only imagine what Sam was like. By now, his blood pressure was sky-rocketing by the frustration in his voice. "Dad, I don't understand. Dean and I practically gave up the demon to find you and now that we have, you expect us to run off like a good little solider? Is that it?"

Gracelessly, all the color drained from the sight of John's face. The dim lit room made it hard to see everyone's faces clearly, but his was noticeable. Something told me deep down that he was keeping something from them and it made me curious. "You're after it aren't you?" questioned Dean curiously, chiming into the conversation again. What did they mean by it, and the demon? Were they talking about this yellow-eyed demon I also didn’t know much about? I turned to see my sister who was giving me a strange, mystified look before veering back to the Winchester's.

"Er- we're going to leave you three alone." Maura stated inelegantly and grabbed a hold of my arm, as we fled out of the room and down the hall with our weapons close to our sides. It was as if we hadn’t existed at the time, because neither one of them made a simple gesture to know they were listening. In a way, I wished that she wouldn't have rushed us out the door so quickly. I was curious to find out what it was John was here in the first place, but it wasn't any of our business to be in their conversation. Deep down, I felt like we should’ve stayed in there to make sure no one was going to kill each other. I’m sure they weren’t that psychotic to murder their own kin, but of course I had no background knowledge of how the Winchester family functioned.

As my sister and I strolled down the shadowy, supernatural corridor, Maura broke our silence and read my face like a book, murmuring “If they kill each other, we were never here.” I wasn’t certain on her tone- cynical or solemn. I gaze over at her shamefacedly, wondering if she was truly over our little feud no more than a couple hours ago. I wouldn’t blame her if she slugged me across the face again. There was no stopping me when I was half-buzzed from all the whiskey and drama that was mixed together. Somebody should name a drink after my life- The Fiery Hell-Raiser On The Run.

"So… why were you here in this creepy warehouse anyway?” I began to question after a brief pause from Maura’s smart remark. “Did you find a lead onto the case?" I mean, why else would my sister come out to a place like this in the middle of the night, besides trying to get away from all her problems- meaning me.

She gazed back at me from the corner of her eyes, awkwardly before returning straight ahead. "Well, this warehouse was owned by Michael Taylor's ex-father-in-law... just figured it was worth checking out, ya know?" She had a point I guess. The deaths all orbited around Michael Taylor. Every victim had some connection to him, whether it was his best buddies or a close relative. It’s a wonder that the man hadn’t gone suicidal himself; losing his first wife in a plane crash on their honeymoon; his second wife being found in their bedroom, hanging from the ceiling fan; his childhood friend taking a blow to the head- Hell, I wouldn’t know how to live after losing the ones I cared deeply about, like Maura. Maura was the only one that I could call my best friend, no matter how bad we refused to get along at times and like I said numerous times, if something happened to her I’d feel responsible and would probably give up my own soul to get her back.

Once we exited the building, the rain had died off and the sun was starting to peek out above the tree line. The air was humid and damp, almost leaving a clammy feeling against my pale skin. I was just hoping that maybe we could get one more composed day. No drama. No family reunions and certainly no more deaths amongst Alba, Missouri. I’m not sure if that was even possible, but I was going to believe that it was. Maura sighed softly, crossing her arms over her chest as she pressed her back against the black and gold Firebird. "Look Kass, I'm really sorry."

Wait one goddamn minute; did she say what I think she just said? Maura usually never surrenders with an “I’m sorry” line unless she’s candidly being pinned down by her own will. "Um- Maura… are you feeling alright?” I asked hesitantly while standing front of her, back facing the robust Chevy Impala.

“I know what I said and I meant it. I guess I sort of snapped because of everything that was going on and you were the easiest target to use as a punching bag.” Gee, doesn’t that make me feel better… no, but she was right. We were both still shaken up by the whole shape-shifter incident that everything it told me, seemed to get the best of us by turning my sister and I against each other.

A small smile appeared on my face. “Siblings are known to get into fist fights once in awhile right?"

“Let’s not make it into a habit like back in Tennessee, remember?”

“How could I not? You stole that sexy musician from me.”

“Kass, he was being possessed by a demon.”

“He was still good in bed.”

Maura gave me an incredulous grin, but followed by each of us letting out an enjoyable life, reminiscing back about five months prior to coming across with the Winchester’s. I didn’t realize how much we ended up fighting on almost every case, but it usually lead up to something good in the near future. At least we had two men by our side to keep us under control- well for the most part anyway.
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Dean's POV

“This demon is one scary son of a bitch, you two realize that don’t you? I’m your father, of course I’m going to care about you, but right now you need to trust me and get the hell out of here before something bad happens.”

Dad was dead serious about this; going after the yellow-eyed demon was his main priority and he wanted to make sure Sam and I was safe, in case the bastard was close by and ready to take us down with him. I still wasn’t sure why he was in the warehouse to begin with. I’ve never even heard of Alba, Missouri and yet we have one hell of a gathering in the secluded town. What the hell?

Sam was pretty fumed by Dad’s comeback when he demanded that we help him, unwavering that no matter what came into play. I was afraid that I was never going to get him out of there. After being stuck in the middle of him and Dad disputing over leaving or staying, it’s a wonder I didn’t walk out before practically dragging Sam’s ass out of the warehouse. It could never pass the torture when Sam went of to college, but it was still crazy.

As we made our way out of the uneasy feeling structure, the rain had cleared off and the sun was shining brightly, glistening against the water puddles casually. That’s when I realized that the Firebird was gone.

A loud groan escaped from my lips. “Oh great, now where did they go?” I irritably muttered, hastily gawking down the north and south bound lanes of the road. No sign of life for miles- how lovely. Those two could be clawing each others eyes out as we stood here aimlessly.

“Hey Dean,” Sam said in more of a sensible tone, as I turned around and noticed him glancing down at a piece of paper. “What is it?” I questioned, pacing over to him and staring over his shoulder. “The girls went to Michael Taylor’s to see if they can get any answers out of him. They said that we should probably head down to… Henry Gresham’s home…” He handed me the white piece of paper and proceeded. “They left an address and think we should check out the crime scene.”

I had to admit, these girls knew how to get things done. It had never crossed my mind to go by where Michael’s childhood friend had put a bullet to the brain. “Alright, let’s hit the road.”

-

“Give you a laptop- piece of cake; give you a dagger and a closed window- you’re a failure,” I mumbled impatiently as Sam struggled to open the glass window to Henry Gresham’s place. He had been fumbling with the lock for a good three minutes now. At the rate he was going, I could have gotten myself a coffee, kick back, watch a little TV, find myself some pie, and yet he’d still be making himself look like an ass, breaking and entering.

I took the pocket knife from his grasp, slipping the blade between the glass frame and in the blink of an eye, I opened up shop. Sam glowered at me, as I flashed him a toothy grin. “Jerk,” he grumbled as I pushed open the window.

“Bitch,” I stated back bluntly, crawling in through the window and Sam not too far behind. The room we were standing in appeared to be the dining area, as a small lop-sided table with two cheap chairs at each end. It seemed like another jolly, everyday family kind of home. With an EMF meter in one hand and a pistol in the other, I paced across the room moving the EMF along the windows and all the walls- nothing was picking up. Maybe it was the fact that everyone had gone suicidal and all the deaths relating to Michael Taylor was just coincidence, so it would mean that we were all only wasting our time… not likely.

I heard Sam walking out of the room as I aimlessly endeavored to pick up some kind of paranormal activity. “I found it,” Sam’s voice rang through the melancholy house. I swiftly paced across the room and through one of the archways leading into an isolated kitchen, after crawling underneath the yellow crime scene tape. There was blood plastered on the walls, ceiling, appliances- it left an uncanny feeling between the both of us, but we’ve dealt with worse over the years.

Suddenly, a squealing high-pitch noise came from the EMF meter. Good to know we were getting something, but of all the places it was directed towards the kitchen counter. From there, Sam and I both acknowledged the strange presence of three letters carved into the contemptible countertop: DHT

“What the hell is DHT?” I inquired sternly, trying to bring back any memory that may help us with solving this eerie mystery.

“DHT…” Sam whispered to himself, hovering over the letters intently. “Maybe it’s initials of some sort.”

“Well, whatever it is we have a lead and hopefully, the girls got somewhere with Michael this time.”