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DISCLAIMER; SUPERNATURAL ISN'T MINE AND THIS WORK IS COMPLETELY FAN-MADE AND HAS NO RELATION TO THE CANON STORY BESIDES THE FOLLOWING OF THE SEASON EVENTS (SEASON 11).

***

TWO WEEKS LATER and Maisie was getting agitated. Dean had made the executive decision that she wasn't going on any hunts, she wasn't to practice fighting, she wasn't even allowed to drive outside of Lebanon. Essentially, the woman who was twenty-one in little over a week was grounded.
"Okay, they do realize that possum is a giant rat, right?" The girl hears Dean say as she rounds the corner into the room, clutching the arch frame as she regains her breath. The boys both look at her weirdly but admittedly, after the year they've spent with her, they were just about used to her blunt yet somehow still animated personality.
"A possum- you know what? I don't think I wanna know." Maisie looks just as confused as the men. "Anyway, that's not why I ran here. I found a hunt-"
"No!" Dean dismisses before she can even think about the next words that would leave her lips. "I told you! A month. There has been way too much going on in your life. You need a proper rest!"
"I have rested!" The girl argues back. "Come on! Cas healed my ribs, Isabella has gone back to Canada, Max is on a hunt in California, I have no idea where the others are. I'm bored! It's not even that bad of a case! It's a ghost. I could get rid of a ghost in my sleep!"
"Fine." Dean shrugs. Maisie's face picks up only for a second until Dean completes his sentence. "If it's 'just a ghost', we won't need three people."
"Fine." Maisie repeats back after only half a second of being caught off guard. "I'll just go by myself then."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Do I?" Maisie crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Because it sounded like you said I wouldn't need you to tag along..."
"Maisie, I will slash the tires of your car, don't think I won't."
Groaning, Maisie looks to her uncle with a pleading look, gesturing to her father. Sam looked amused at the bickering, now only half paying attention to whatever was distracting him on the laptop. "I'm not getting involved in this, Mai. This is all you." He raises up his hands in surrender. The girl groans again.
"Think of it as my birthday present." She finally spits out. Her stomach immediately dropping as she does so. The girl hasn't celebrated her birthday in eleven years... since the few months prior to her mother's death. She bites her lip, attempting to fight back the tears threatening to leave her eyes. She wanted to give up. To tell them to forget it and that she'll wait. But she's gone this far, it's be stupid to back out now. "I'll be twenty-one. I don't need a fancy car or my first legal trip to a bar... I just wanna hunt. I wanna help people- it's what I'm good at."
It worked. The brothers looked at each other, and then Sam looked at his laptop and Dean at his phone. Both obviously realised how the time was getting away from them all. They both looked back at each other and then finally at her. She wished they didn't. She wished that she could pause the moment, allowed herself to breakdown and scream until she had no voice left and then resumed as if nothing had happened.
"Okay," Dean says softly. Gently. Maisie curses herself for vulnerability obviously showing on her face. "Okay, you win. What's the case."
"Right, um-" Maisie clears the lump in her throat, quickly wiping her cheeks dry before looking down at the tablet of information in front of her. "Either of you ever heard of Lizzie Borden?"
Sam chokes on the air he was breathing, the others turning to look at him. When he regains his composure he taps on his laptop a second. "No way..." he turns the laptop to the group. "It's just- that's the exact case I was just looking at."
"The... Lizzie Borden Bed and Breakfast Museum." Dean reads off Sam's laptop. He scoffs. "A B&B and a museum. Yeah. That doesn't sound like a tourist trap at all."
"I mean the thing is," Sam advocates before Maisie even has a chance to jump in. "the inn was Lizzie Borden's actual house. In 1892 she hacked up her mom and stepdad there. Or allegedly hacked them up. She was acquitted and spent the rest of her days in Fall Rivers hounded and persecuted by the townspeople."
"So you're thinking revenge killing." Dean looks between the two. They both look at each other and then, as if agreeing with the sentiment, they both shrug.
"Why now?" Dean dismisses. "It was probably some psycho fan who's seen to many slasher flicks."
"That's what I first thought!" Maisie pushes the argument. "But the inn was locked up, there were no signs of entry or exit, half a dozen guests and none of whom saw or heard any intruders."
"Well, maybe the murderer was actually competent." Dean shrugs and then pauses, if you squinted hard enough, it's actually possible to see the gears click into place inside his mind. "Wait a minute. Sam, I know what this is. This has something to do with your freaky fetish for serial killers! Mai, please don't tell me you've got it too."
"Hey," Maisie raises her hands. "I'm just in it because it's an easy hunt. I do not have a fetish."

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