The Winchester Girl ( a story of Dean and Sam's little sister)

Pteromerhanophobia

AN: I'm sorry, I've had to do a lot of traveling lately which hasn't left me a lot of time to update and I've been focusing a little too much on my HP fic.

Also I would like to wish a very Happy Birthday to @221B_Fandom_Lover ! Feel free to say Happy Birthday to her in the comments or put it on her message board. checkout her profile!

Sam, Dean, and Piper had immediately went into research mode. Normally, they don't do research all together or as extreme as they were now, except on cases that had potential to be especially dangerous and could easily get out of hand. There were photos on the wall, all of Piper's files and books were strewn all over her bed with several pages folded or bookmarked, Sam's laptop was on, and Piper was rapidly jotting down notes on every piece of useful information they managed to dig up on Demons and air planes. Dean and Piper were pouring over the books, while Sam stuck to his computer.
Sam suddenly looked up, "So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it." Dean shook his head, "Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." Piper shook her head and pointed to a paragraph in the book she was reading, "That's not entirely true. According to Japanese culture, certain demons are behind certain disasters. It can be manmade or natural." Sam continued, "Yeah, like one causes earthquakes, another causes disease." Dean raised an eyebrow, "And you think this one causes plane crashes?" Piper shrugged and nodded, "We've much more far fetched theories turn out to be true. It's plausible and it's the not theory we've got."
"All eight, so what," asked Dean, "We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?" Sam looked down, feeling remorse towards all of the innocent people who must've died at this monster's hands, "Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Dean snorted a little and turned. Piper looked up at him with concern, "What?" He sighed, "I don't know, Guys. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here." Sam nodded, "Yeah, me too." Piper studied Dean's features. There was something bothering him about this gig, she could feel that much, but what? Besides the demon thing, of course.
Before Piper could build up the courage to ask, Dean's phone rang and he answered it. Piper had a strange feeling that whoever was calling, was bearing bad news.

Jerry: "Dean, it's Jerry."

Dean: "Oh, hey Jerry."

Jerry: "My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead."

Dean : "Wha-Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?"

Jerry: "He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down."

Dean: "Where'd this happen?"

Jerry: "About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."

Dean: "I'll try and ignore the irony in that."

Jerry: "I'm sorry?"

Dean: "Nothing. Jerry, hang in there, all right? We'll catch up with you soon."

Dean hung up the phone and looked at his curious siblings, slightly exasperated. Piper bit her lip, "Another plane crash?" He nodded, "Yeah let's go." Sam stood up as his sister pulled on her jacket, "Where?" "Nazareth."

-Nazareth-
The trio all sat in an office with Jerry as he peered into the microscope. "Sulfur?" Asked Dean when he looked up. Jerry nodded. Piper, who was sitting in on the desk with her hands shoved into her pocket stood up and went to sit on the table Sam was at to look at the file he was reading, "So, Chuck must've been the demon's target. I mean, it's not often you get in two crashes so close together with one person. That means that this isn't just a demon being destructive. There's a pattern."
"With all due respect to Chuck," started Sam, "If that were the case, that would be the good news." Dean looked at him, "What's the bad news." Sam looked down at the file on the crash, "Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485." Jerry looked confused, seeing in the hunters' eyes that this information was apparently significant, "Forty minutes? What does that mean?"
"It's biblical numerology," Supplied Dean, "You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death." Sam scrolled down on his laptop and look up, "I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in." Piper scanned the files, "Did anybody survive the crashes?" Sam shook his head, "No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?" Dean repeated the words, the meaning finally dawning on him, "No survivors." He closed his eyes and took a breath, "It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."