A/N: I created this series for no particular reason, just kind of bored and decided to see what I could do with Eric Kripkes series if I added in my own character!

I Own Nothing but, Phee, Caleb and Siren, Phee created from my own personal views and temperament. The brother used to be Ryan and the Friend Pixie but I found I like these names better so yeah.

Enjoy, Read and Review. Title is the song by Nickelback!

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam or the Supernatural 'verse I only like to play.

If Today Was Your Last Day

Her brown eyes were filled with tears, tears that never spilled down her tan face. Her Curly black hair was pulled back into a tight knot at the base of her neck. Her small hands were wound tightly around each other and her back was straight her head held high. The cold southerly wind whipped around her long legs, making the skirt of her Black mourning dress whisk about her knees.

Another girl with straight blonde hair, stood next to her, tears streaming violently down her face, biting her lip to stop the urge to sob uncontrollably. Her hands were clenched into fists and her bright blue eyes were bloodshot.

A young man stepped forward, a box of matches in his hand. He slowly pulled one of the long fireplace matches and struck it it spluttered to life before he lit the whole box on fire and threw it onto the top of the funeral pyre. A shrouded human figure burst into flame and that's when the blonde girl started to sob. A high keening sound. A sound filled with such remorse and pain, it was almost unbearable to witness. The dark haired girl stepped closer and wrapped her arms comfortingly around her, her best friend.

"Daddy, I'm so sorry daddy," sobbed the blonde, her pain filled voice cutting straight to the brunettes heart, the man as well. His light brown eyes filled with tears at the sight of the girls. "I'm so sorry Siren, I should have done more," whispered the brunette into her friends hair as she hugged her. The blonde, Siren, just cried harder into the other girls' shoulder, the flames from the pyre lighting them with a flickering orange light, until it hit the salt beneath the shroud covering and then they turned a bright violent green and blue.

Ashes were all that was left of the pyre by the time they left, the Blonde cradled in the young man's arms, he placed her gently in the back seat of the classic mustang, before sitting in the front, the brunette was driving. She turned the engine over and even the comforting purr of her baby couldn't make her feel better.

"Phoenix, it was never your fault," Muttered the man. The Brunette, Phoenix, snorted in contempt, "of course it was, Caleb, dad taught me to hunt so I could save people, not stand by while they get killed by a bunch of filthy leech Vampires, like Sirens dad did". "You couldn't have saved him Phee," said Caleb his light brown eyes bright with a hidden flame, "they picked up his scent a long time ago, you didn't know they'd come".

"But I should've been able to protect him somehow!" she exclaimed slamming her hand on the steering wheel angrily. "So what, you can see the future now?" he asked sarcastically, "you can be in two places at once?" she glowered at him. "No, I didn't think so," he said, "you just can't always save everybody Phee," he shrugged. "I want to," she whispered her eyes guilt ridden. "But you can't so occasionally we loose one, it sucks ass that it was Siren's dad but you couldn't have stopped it from happening," he said earnestly, his eyes concerned.

"Why do you always have to be the one that makes sense?" she sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Because I'm the better looking one," he smirked. She reached a hand over and shoved him playfully before reaching up and undoing her bun, her long dark wavy locks tumbling down around her shoulders to her waist. She then ran her hand through her hair as she drove them to the motel they were crashing in that week.

Meanwhile

"Dean! Do you think maybe we should get out of here now?" exclaimed a young man, about 23 or so, with curly dark brown hair before shooting a shotgun at a dark shape. "Good call Sam!" yelled back another guy, around 28, he had short brown hair, a bit of a scruffy unshaved thing going on with green eyes shooting another shotgun at the shape also. The two high-tailed it out of the dark falling down house running to a classic 1967 Chevvy Impala, jumping in, the short haired man gunning the Engine, taking off quickly.

The one with dark brown hair, Sam was clutching his sides and breathing raggedly like he had a couple of broken ribs. "Man that was one angry spirit," he said breathing out. The other guy, Dean, whistled, "hell yeah, so where's he buried?" he asked. "He wasn't" Sam said, "He was cremated". "Damn, so what the hell do we do now?" questioned Dean. "Research," replied Sam. "More Libraries," groaned Dean. "Yep," said Sam smirking. They drove quickly the engine rumbling back to their motel to crash for the night before heading back to the library in the morning.

Clouds of dust floated around them as the two brothers sat, their heads buried in old records. "So how did this dick die?" asked Dean bored leaning back in his chair stretching. "Apparently James Ackerman, our ghost boy, was electrocuted, he had a leak in his house during a thunderstorm and an electricity cable was knocked loose and electrocuted him while he was standing barefoot in the leaks puddle. Ouch, what a sad way to go," muttered Sam shaking his head. "Great so how do we kill his ghost ass?" asked Dean. "Um, lore says, we electrocute his ass again," said Sam leaning back in his chair also looking at his older brother. "So, tazor his ass?" asked Dean, one eyebrow raised. "Yep," said Sam. "Mmm, Tasty," said Dean smirking.