**Three Years Prior*

South Carolina. The air feels thick with humidity as crickets chirp in the distance. You notice the faint scent of pine mixed with something metallic as Sam and Dean first arrive in town, drawn by reports of teenagers disappearing every day. Usually they don't check that kind of thing out but they're in the area and figure it couldn't hurt.

While Sam pores over dusty town records in the local library, the musty smell of old paper filling his nostrils, he catches wind of a local legend. The Murder Tree. A 19 year old girl had been murdered by a specific tree in the woods many years ago. 1964, to be exact. The wooden table feels cool against his forearms as he reads about how nobody had gone missing up until this point, but the legend says if you go at midnight you can see the girl sleeping by the tree.

That night, flashlight beams cut through darkness as Sam and Dean approach the gnarled oak. The ground is soft with moss beneath their boots when they find her - not harming people on purpose. In fact, she doesn't even know she's dead. Her voice trembles with confusion as she explains she had been supposed to be the first woman at Harvard Law when everything ended.

**Present Day*

The bunker smells of gunpowder and coffee as Sam and Dean just get back from a hunt. Dean tosses his flannel jacket onto the back of a chair, the fabric making a soft thud, while Sam boots up the computer. Castiel is MIA again which isn't a surprise. The hum of the ventilation system fills the silence as Dean announces he's beat before disappearing toward the showers.

Alone in the war room, Sam's fingers hover over the keyboard when something catches his eye. The security camera feed from South Carolina flickers to life, and his breath catches in his throat at what - or who - he sees.