A/N: So I'm totally sorry it took three forevers to continue, but I've been really slammed with the other 67294739 things I've had to keep up with. But I like this storyline, so I shall continue. Reviews are helpful and appreciated, just fyi. Aaaaand I own nothing, sadly.

Chapter 2

Most of the day was so excruciatingly boring that Sam, Dean, and Caylor all could just about feel their brains melting. Research before hunts seemed to be even worse than actually being on a hunt in itself.

The only ones whoever managed to come up with anything were John and Sam, but this time even Sam felt like banging his head against the library desk repeatedly.

As the late July sun finally started to drift behind Arizona trees, the nervous excitement of the hunt finally started sinking in and bringing about a much different vibe than the one of boredom back at the library. They packed the weapons, salt, and gasoline into the Impala's arsenal and headed toward the abandoned state hospital to salt and burn the bones of yet another poor, dead, mad scientist.

****************************on the hunt**********************************

Broken glass crunched beneath her worn-out converse, the sound abnormally loud in the quiet hours of dusk. The current hunt was not going well and she silently wondered for the hundredth time why they never got o hunt for deer or rabbits like a normal family.

No, the Winchesters had to seek out a creature that normal people would brush off as a fictional character from a B-rated horror film; they were hunting a vengeful spirit, a very, very vengeful spirit.

Caylor lurked through the dark hallway of an abandoned asylum, her only light emitted from her shaky flashlight and the eerily bright shine of the full moon outside the seemingly endless rows of identically tall windows.

The mental hospital had been abandoned for decades, but definitely not forgotten as kids would constantly try sneaking in and trying to prove bravery, more like stupidity, by staying the night. According to legends, the spirit of a psychotic doctor would kill anyone trying to "discover his secret experiments" that he used to perform on his residing patients. Why anyone in their right minds would stick around after hearing those stories was beyond her 13-year-old mind. 'And people said the she was crazy,' Caylor thought, rolling her eyes.

Hunting and eliminating ghosts and monsters had been the norm in her family for as long as she could remember. Dean had even told her that their father had not even tried to save her the grief of knowing that little family secrets, but he had made an attempt at keeping her brother, Sam, from knowing, at least for a little while. John had always been like that, like he never really bothered protecting her from a lot of things like that. Sam and Dean had always been the ones to really look out for her.

Caylor shook the thought of her father out of her head, it would not help her nerves at the moment to feel anger and pain toward the man while she was supposed to have her guard up looking for Doctor Hurtz's spirit. It was true though, that most of the time she was not treated the same way as her brothers were. The only exception being this; hunting, where she was expected, commanded, to be "at least" as good of a hunter as any boy out there. That fact was continually pounded into her skull, in more ways than just the figurative.

Nearing the end of the hallway, she wondered why neither she, nor her brothers, nor even John had found this damn ghost yet. Apparently nothing lately had been just a simple salt and burn!

Suddenly, it felt as if she had just leapt five feet in the air as Dean put a hand to her shoulder.

"Hey, hey, Kidd! It's just me. Damn, is this doc hard to find, or what?" She could tell Dean wasn't happy about being up all night with still no sign of Hurtz. Dean tended to get cranky when he was tired and considering none of them had gotten much sleep in the past few days, Dean was probably thinking, as Caylor was herself, that a massive supernatural takedown was in order.

"So, I vote that we ditch this place and let anybody dumb enough to try their luck with Hurtz get what they deserve!" Caylor sarcastically chimed in, though she half-heartedly felt like going with the idea. The crankiness must also be a genetic trait.

"Yeah, I second that. You know how obsessive Dad gets though".

"Ugh, do not even talk to me about Dad right now, Dean. He's just about on my last nerve." Caylor bit out as she sped up toward the door at the end of the hall.

The only thing that Caylor could remember happening next were loud crashes, her brother yelling for her to "look out!" , and a lot of flames.

Apparently John had finally found the old doc's remains to salt and burn, and just in time, too. Everything had happened in such a blur, but one thing that both Caylor and Dean had heard perfectly clearly was their father's deadly low tone when he told Caylor to follow him, that they needed to "discuss the importance of paying attention during a hunt". For all Dean knew, it was just going to be another shouting match, like it always was with their father and Sam. Caylor, though, knew better than to believe that it would be that simple, especially at the first moment she would be left alone with John at the hotel.

Keeping up the act for her brothers, though, she followed behind silently into the next room, her head toward the old, dirty asylum floor.