Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

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October 31, 2008 - The morning of Halloween

I barely slept last night. Too many thoughts running through my mind, too many unanswered questions. We have everything almost figured out. The pieces are there, but something still feels off. I get that Samhain raising demons, evil creatures, makes sense. But destroying an entire town? That feels like overkill. There's something more to this. Something that doesn't fit, and I can't quite place it.

I feel it deep in my gut, that gnawing sensation like a warning. And my gut? It's rarely wrong. Every instinct tells me that the witch behind this isn't just raising Samhain for the chaos; there's a bigger game at play. It's all too calculated. Too... deliberate. But what?

More memories of my mother have been resurfacing. Her teachings. Her wisdom. Her warnings. The subtle things she'd say when she thought I wasn't listening, all the little lessons that seemed unimportant at the time. It's like she knew the world would try to break me, try to make me forget who I am, what I'm capable of. Sometimes I wish she were here now. I need her voice. I need her guidance.

The problem is, she left me with more questions than answers. She buried so much in riddles, in stories. Hidden messages meant to protect me, but now all they do is haunt me. She was preparing me for something, I know that. But for what? And why couldn't she have just said it outright?

I have no choice but to learn as I go. To make sense of everything while I'm in the thick of it. Time's running out, and Halloween is the witch's deadline. I—

Nadia's phone vibrated on the table, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, surprised to see that it was Irene calling.

"Ben?" Nadia answered, assuming it was him. Considering their sometimes rocky relationship, Irene rarely made an effort to reach out. When she did, it was usually because her father had a breakdown. If it had anything to do with Ben, she'd shoot Nadia a text.

"No, it's not Ben. It's Irene," came the quiet reply.

"Irene!" Nadia smiled, a little surprised. "Hi! I'm sorry to sound so surprised. You're honestly the last person I expected to call me. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, of course. Everything is fine. The boys are great. I just so happen to have mustered up the courage to call and check up on you. We're on better terms than we've ever been since you left, and I want to keep it going, you know?"

Nadia's heart warmed at the words. Irene had never been one to wear her emotions on her sleeve, so hearing her open up like this meant more than Nadia could say.

"You're not busy, are you? I considered you might be out playing FBI or something by this time of day."

"Not playing FBI today," Nadia chuckled softly. "I was doing a little journaling before Dean and I head out. We're looking for a witch. She's summoning a demon that could break a seal and bring us closer to the apocalypse."

"Wow! That sounds... fun?" Irene's tone was filled with uncertainty.

"Does it?" Nadia let out a short laugh, shaking her head.

"No, it doesn't. It actually sounds quite terrifying. How are you holding up?"

Nadia's eyes dropped to the table, focusing on the worn leather of her journal. "I'm fine. It's just the job, you know?"

"No, Nadia. It isn't the job. This is Lucifer we're talking about. This is new territory for you and the boys. How are you really holding up?"

Nadia took a slow breath, her fingers tapping against the table as she processed Irene's words. She had given Sam and Dean the same "this isn't our norm" spiel the night before, but now, speaking with Irene, she realized how much she had pushed her own feelings aside.