A/N: For sapphireswimming. Suicide mention and minor swearing ahead-it's Supernatural, after all-but nothing too bad. Enjoy!

Sam would be fine on his own.

Dean knew that.

This wasn't the first time they'd had to split up on a hunt.

It wouldn't be the last.

But it would have been nice if Cas or someone else were around to watch Sammy's back. He'd drawn graveyard duty and was busy uncovering the remains of Judith Cooper, which meant if Dean didn't provide a suitable distraction, the ghost would be on his ass the moment she realized what they were doing. And he was fine with drawing the ghost's attention to himself if it kept her away from Sam and everyone else, but he also preferred to do it when there weren't kids around who could get caught in the crossfire.

And that girl they'd seen sneaking around earlier had just ducked around the back of the old Cooper place, disappearing into the shadows so quickly he'd have never seen her if he hadn't been keeping an eye out.

With a huff, Dean stuffed the extra rock salt rounds into his jacket, shut the trunk, and followed her. He didn't want to yell; it would either spook her or alert Casper-the-not-so-friendly-ghost to the fact that they were here, and that was the last thing he wanted.

The kid was the reason he and Sam had split up in the first place. It would've been far safer for the two of them to handle the salt 'n' burn together—and a lot faster, too, when it came to the grave digging part, for all that he'd helped get a start on it before leaving—but they'd spotted the girl poking around earlier. More than once. Casual inquiries around town when asking about Judith's other victims—that is, the recent missing teens who had last been seen in the area and the two confirmed kills that looked like suicides—hadn't turned up anything solid on who this girl actually was.

Dean was suspicious, but Sam's bleeding heart had him wanting to give her the benefit of the doubt. There was no question that this was a ghost thing—aside from seeing Judith themselves, the EMF meter lit up like crazy all over her old house—but they had no idea if activity had spiked before or after the kid had shown up. (Sam hadn't been able to find any patterns or new activity related to the old Cooper residence in his research that could account for her resurgence, and Dean hadn't come across anything from his interviews with various townsfolk.) If this kid was the one to disturb the peace, she was damned lucky she wasn't already dead like the others. If she was trying to control the ghost, she had no idea what she was getting into and they'd need to stop her. And if she was just a runaway who thought a so-called haunted house could be a safe haven, they needed to correct her, fast.

There was no sign of the kid by the time he got to the back door, but it was open, and Dean had no illusions about where he'd find her. He unslung the shotgun and held it at the ready (safety on till he had either the ghost or the kid in his sights) as he crept inside, not sure whether he expected to hear footsteps or screams. His flashlight beam didn't catch on anything out of the ordinary, but—

"What are you doing here?"

Dean cursed and spun, leveling the shotgun at the girl's head before he realized she wasn't the threat and lowering it. He hadn't seen her approach, hadn't even heard her, and that spoke volumes considering the creaking floorboards in this place. Had he really been that distracted?

The girl didn't seem fazed by any of this, only drawing herself up taller and repeating herself. She came up to his chest and looked even younger than he'd been thinking. What was she, twelve? She looked like she should be in bed at this time of night, not skulking around abandoned buildings.

"Believe it or not, I'm protecting you."

The girl snorted. "Not," she said. "A normal gun isn't going to do anything against ghosts."

She had a lot to learn if she didn't know the difference between a normal shotgun and one that had been sawed off, never mind how it was loaded, but that was just as well. It was better that kids her age didn't know that difference yet, especially if the reason they learned was because they were caught in something like this. And even if she knew there was a ghost here—and truly believed there was a ghost here—he doubted she knew how to protect herself. Those baggy clothes might be concealing some kind of weapon, but since her hands were empty, it was far more likely she'd come here uninformed and unprepared.

"The rounds are packed with salt."

"Which is supposed to do what, exactly? A ghost isn't going to have some compulsive urge to count all the salt grains or anything. That's, I dunno, vampires or fairies or something like that."

Well, that confirmed that she hadn't been raised in the hunting life, at least. "They'll pack a punch. Now are you going to be a good little girl and get the hell out of here to save your own skin?"

The girl raised her eyebrows. "Are you kidding me? If I leave, you're going to get yourself killed."

Right.

Like he was the one who was uninformed and unprepared.

"If you know so much, then fill me in on what we're dealing with here."

The girl shrugged. "Standard ghost stuff. Former human still tied to something in this world. Strong enough to cause trouble but too weak to leave this place or consistently maintain a corporeal form." She cocked her head at him. "You should know that if you think you want to be a ghost hunter."

He rolled his eyes. "Just stay behind me." He'd stick her in a circle of salt if he didn't think she'd be stupid enough to leave it the moment he turned his back, but she wasn't scared, and if she wasn't scared, she wouldn't listen to him. He had a better chance of keeping her alive when she thought she was invincible if he could at least see what idiotic stunt she was trying to pull. "Maybe you can learn something."

"That would require me to know less than you about this."

He could kill her later. Right now, he had to keep her alive. And then make Sam deal with her and her snarky remarks.

Dean turned to keep exploring, and the girl followed. This time, he could hear her footsteps. Which was impressive, considering she hadn't shut up yet. "Judy thinks she's doing the right thing, you know. Just like you are. This isn't about retribution or anything. She thinks she's doing these kids a favour. Freeing them. So they don't have to suffer."

Judith should've shown herself by now. He'd been here long enough, and the kid wasn't exactly quiet.

Dean pulled the EMF meter out of his pocket and turned it on. It squealed, instantly lighting up red. The ghost was close.

"At least you have some tech with you. You aren't completely incompetent. You know they've got less noisy things than that, though, right?"

"Just watch your back," Dean growled, snapping off the EMF meter and tucking it away. "We're gonna have company at any moment."

"Assuming that thing is reliable."

"It's reliable."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I trust it more than I trust you." But he still couldn't see anything. Couldn't feel any cold spots. The flashlight beam held steady as he played it along the walls, ducking into one room and then the next. Judith's last victim had supposedly hung themselves, tying a rope to the second floor banister and jumping. Maybe the ghost was upstairs again, biding her time till round two. Waiting for them to walk into whatever trap was already set.

"I'm going to save your sorry butt when you screw up. It's not."

"Are you gonna give it a rest?"

"Are you gonna leave and let me handle this?" At Dean's incredulous sputter, the girl nodded. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"You're not protecting me!"

"So you say. But you're the one who has this backwards. Seriously, who goes up against ghosts armed with salt?"

Dean didn't bother to dignify that with an answer and instead headed for the stairs. If the kid wasn't going to listen, fine. He'd save her skin anyway. She might not be so lippy once the ghost actually showed.

He'd worry if it weren't for the EMF reading. He hadn't helped Sam with the grave digging for as long as he would've liked; Sam had been too worried about Little Miss Know-It-All here to let him stay. But the cemetery Judith was buried in wasn't far from here, and if she had realized that Sam was the real threat—

The girl gasped the moment Dean's foot hit the second floor. "She's here."

He couldn't see her, but that didn't mean the kid hadn't seen something. Ghosts could be damned fast. "Keep your eyes peeled. She cou—"

"Duck!"

The girl tackled him with surprising strength, sending them both into the floor. She was on her feet first, fists clenched at her side as she faced down the ghost at the end of the hall. The old wooden chair Judith had thrown in their direction lay in pieces at the top of the stairs. The flashlight flickered a few feet away, but Dean had no idea where his shotgun had landed.

"Stop hurting people," the girl demanded, "or I'll stop you."

Dean groaned. As far as threats went, that definitely needed work. Then again, she was a kid. And a stupid one at that, goading a ghost when she didn't have any weapons on her. He grabbed the flashlight and swept it in a wide arc, but it gave out before he could see anything. He hadn't heard the gun fall down the stairs, but it could've slid into one of the other rooms—

"I just want to help you," Judith cooed. Dean cursed and lunged forward, towards the kid, but the ghost was faster, standing over her in the blink of an eye. "There's so much danger out there. Wouldn't you rather if I kept you safe?"

Judith hadn't sounded like as much of a basket case when they'd read up on her life, but dying could do that to you. Dean fingered the half bag of salt he had in the pocket opposite the spare salt rounds. She'd disperse when it hit her, but the effect wouldn't last long, and she'd be pissed once she reformed. On the upside, she'd be pissed at him and not trying to get the kid to join her in death. On the downside, he couldn't even see anything made of iron that he could use as a makeshift weapon, and—

"I think I can help myself, thanks." The girl stepped back. "You probably haven't heard of me. I'd guess you haven't heard of my cousin, either. But, believe me, I can take you down without breaking a sweat. It'll be a lot easier on all of us if you just give up now."

Dean had no idea what the kid was talking about, but he didn't have time to figure out if there was any truth in what she'd said. Judith's face contorted into a snarl as she flew forward and—

Dean blinked.

The afterimage left by the blinding green light was still seared into his eyes.

Maybe the kid had a hidden weapon after all.

"Dude, what the hell was that?"

"My secret weapon," the girl said flippantly as she turned back to Dean. "You find your useless excuse for a weapon yet, Mr. I-Don't-Need-Protecting?"

Whatever it had been, it wouldn't hold Judith off for long. "Look, I've got enough salt to make a small circle, and if you stand inside—"

"So that's a no." The kid crossed her arms. "That's what I thought."

And that's what he'd thought: that she wouldn't go for it. At least he could tell Sam he'd tried. "You think you're invincible because you got lucky just now?"

"No, I know I can handle myself because I've done it before. I'm still not entirely convinced that you have, by the way."

Sammy oughta be close by now. Whether he liked it or not, he'd have to draw the ghost out to keep her focus on them. He didn't like the idea of using the kid as bait, even when he didn't particularly like her, but she could clearly handle herself for a few seconds if things went sideways. "Just be ready for when she comes back," he growled, turning to look for the shotgun again. As soon as he had Judith focused on him, the kid would be in the clear, and it wouldn't take long for Sam to torch Judith once he uncovered her casket. And then they could put this place in their rear-view mirror and forget about it.

The shotgun had slid into the bedroom. Dean walked in to grab it, and the door slammed shut behind him. "Hey!" No amount of twisting and pulling on the doorknob made any difference. This was Judith's doing. He'd walked right into her trap. And the kid was out there on her own, secret weapon or no secret weapon. "Son of a bitch," Dean muttered. The door opened inward, not outward, so he wouldn't have much luck trying to slam into it to break it down. He might be able to make a hole using something else—the wood didn't seem terribly strong, probably a hollow door rather than solid, and if he was lucky for once, that old bed frame might actually have some iron in it—but that would take time.

And he wasn't likely to be able to force the door open until the ghost was distracted.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" the girl called, and he wasn't entirely sure whether she was talking to him or to the ghost. He planted his foot on the wall beside the door and started to pull on the handle, just in case.

There was another green flash, followed by screaming.

He didn't know whose it was until the door started to give. "C'mon," he growled. If the series of thuds were anything to go by, Judith was throwing things at the kid. He wasn't convinced the kid wasn't throwing things back, for all the good that would do her. There was a larger, heavier thud that sounded like it came from right outside the door, and it snapped shut again, sealing before he even had a chance to see what was going on.

He didn't need to see everything to guess that the kid had just taken a header into the wall, though.

"This is for your own good," Judith was saying. "I just want to save you."

There was another flash, white this time, and—thankfully—the kid's sharp retort. "Save yourself, you crazy fruit loop."

"Hurry up, Sammy," Dean mumbled. "I don't know how much longer this kid's going to last." There were more green flashes, and he could feel Judith's grip on the door start to loosen, but—

Another crash, and this time the door came down on top of him. Dean wasn't sure if the white light he saw this time was the same as before or just a side effect from everything else. He groaned and wiggled out from underneath the door. Judith was already there, standing over the kid, and she was out cold.

Well.

Hopefully out cold and not out of the game for good.

Dean's fingers closed on the half package of salt, and he tossed it in Judith's direction. Her image wavered and vanished as the salt cut through her, giving him a few precious seconds to catch his breath and check on the kid. He could find a pulse, weak but definitely there, and that's all he cared about right now. Injuries could be dealt with later. Grabbing his shotgun from the floor, he stood up and stood guard.

"You still want to save her?" He heard Judith before he saw her. He turned, and she vanished, reappearing behind him. "You don't even know what she is."

"Still like my idea of saving her better than yours," Dean shot back, pivoting to keep her in his sights.

"But she doesn't belong with you." He took a shot, but Judith had already moved. "She belongs with me."

Judith's idea of arguing her point involved her trying to bring the ceiling fan down on him. She managed to clip him as he dove out of the way, and then she was back over the kid. He fumbled to get in another shot—

And then she screamed, louder than before, as flames erupted from her chest. She reached down for the kid anyway, but the girl was more resilient than Dean had given her credit for; she was conscious enough to roll out of the way. The ghostly firelight was reflected in the kid's wide blue eyes as she stared.

When Judith was nothing more than ash and the forgotten flashlight had flickered back to life, the girl met his eyes with a weak smile. "I take it back. I guess you do know a thing or two about hunting ghosts."

"You're not so bad yourself, kid," he admitted grudgingly as he offered her a hand.

She took it and let him pull her to her feet. "Dani," she said.

"Dean." He could see the careful way she held herself as easily as he could see the wound from her head dripping blood down the left side of her face. "Come with me. We'll meet up with my brother and get you fixed up."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I'll be fine."

"You'll be better if you let us help you. You wanna go home to your parents like that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine."

He frowned. "You don't have parents, do you?"

"I'm not having this conversation." She tried to walk out, but he grabbed her arm.

"Listen, kid, this might not have been your first tango with a ghost, but if you want to keep breathing, let me help you."

"I don't need your help!"

"You can't do this by yourself," he snapped. "Whether you want to hunt or not—and, god, don't get into this life if you don't have to—you need someone to watch your back. Sam and I have a friend up in Sioux Falls. Jody. She'll take you in, no questions asked. Give you a roof over your head. A proper home."

"I'm not some stray you need to deal with."

"No, but you're a girl who's in over her head, and you won't be the first one Jody's helped out. So either cough up the names and addresses of some family members or I'm giving Jody a call." She opened her mouth, and he added, "And I'm not stupid. I'm going to be checking it out first to make sure you're telling the truth before I drop you anywhere."

Her mouth snapped shut.

"That's what I thought."

He didn't trust the girl not to pull some disappearing act, but when she followed him to the Impala and climbed in with nothing more than a silent, sulky show of protest, he started to think that Sam was right. She was just a girl who wanted—needed—help, and on some level she must have recognized that or she wouldn't have come with him.

Of course, she also probably thought she could take him if she had to, but the kid was nothing if not cocky and overconfident. She likely wouldn't think any different once she met Sam, either, even though she should.

She'd get along well with Jody and her girls.