Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Description: Spoilers up to Hunted. Sam and Dean run into a mysterious girl on one of their trips. Can they work together? And what is she hiding from them?

Notes: This is my second fic, though it's my first Supernatural one. It will be updated whenever I get a chance, I've got a busy time ahead of me. Schoolwork, life stuff, etc.

I know the first chapters short, but I wanted to ease into it all. Please review!

The girl was slowly creeping through the house. Keeping quiet. Something moved in the next room, and she froze, listening. She edged her way towards the door, her hand reaching out to the handle. She pulled it open. And screamed.

Sam bolted upright in his bed, sweating heavily. Another nightmare. That poor girl. He tried to recall the details, but it was like holding onto sand. He looked at the clock. 6:45 am. It wasn't worth going back to sleep. As he got his clothes together for a shower, he looked over at the other bed in the room. Dean was sleeping soundly, as though he didn't have a care in the world. But Sam knew better.

Half an hour later, Dean woke up to silence. He looked around and spotted a note on the table by his bed.

Gone to get coffee. Back soon. Sam.

He smiled. He couldn't start the day without a cup of the strong liquid. And Sammy knew it. The door opened, and bright sunlight filtered in, making lines on the walls of another crummy hotel room. Sam wandered in frowning at the front page of the local paper, two cups of coffee in his hands. Dean got off the bed and took one, taking a sip of the scalding drink.

"Morning sunshine. You know if you keep frowning like that you'll get wrinkles."

Sam just rolled his eyes and handed the paper to Dean. He looked at the headline.

Boy murdered in haunted house in Phoenix, Arizona.

Dean laughed. Could it be any lamer? After scanning the article, he threw the paper down and started to get dressed.

"I think we should check it out, Dean."

"Why? It's probably just another made-up fairytale that scares tourists."

"I don't think so. That picture with the article? I had a dream about that house last night."

Dean stopped, and turned and looked at his little brother, frowning. He knew Sammy's dreams usually came true, but they also usually had something to do with the yellow-eyed demon they'd spent so long hunting. And Dean didn't want Sam anywhere near that thing.

"When you say you had a dream about the house, do you mean you went to Arizona and bought it? Or one of your freaky "someone's been murdered" dreams?"

"The second one."

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was their job to look at these kinds of things. But he didn't have to like it all the time.

"Fine. We leave in an hour"

ΩΩΩΩΩ

By nightfall they reached Phoenix. They managed to find a hotel with vacancies, and settled in. Sam had spent the trip researching the house. It didn't have a story of any kind. No grisly murders. No violent suicides. No one had lived there in 50 years. They failed to see how the house could be called haunted. They'd hatched a plan to check it out while it was dark. As Dean had said,

"The freaks come out at night."

They pulled up out the front of a run-down old shack. The picture had been to kind to it.

"You'd think the bad guys could pick better places to hang out."

"Dean, we need to focus. If my dream was right, there could be a girl trapped in there tonight."

"Are you sure she was trapped? She could've gone in there on a dare. Free will and all that."

"Either way, something happens."

They got out of the Impala and went to the trunk. Dean lifted up the fake bottom, revealing their impressive armory. He handed his brother a shotgun and some rock-salt. He grabbed the same items for himself and shut the trunk.

"Ok. We go in, we look around, see if we can find the girl. If we find her we get out. If we don't we wait for a little while. I do not want to be here too long, Sam. Go it?"

"Got it."

They moved to the front door, and Sam slowly opened it. Of course, the door creaked. The whole house did. It wouldn't be considered "haunted" if it didn't. They moved slowly through the first room, Dean using his home-made EMF detector to scan everything. It was all clear.

They moved into the kitchen, still scanning. Suddenly they heard a noise from the next room. Dean looked at Sam, who nodded. They hurried over to the door, quietly. Dean put his hand on the knob, and turned. Sam aimed his shotgun, and waited for his brother to pull the door open.

Yeah, I know it's cruel. But I didn't want to write too much in case people didn't enjoy it. So review and let me know if you want me to continue.