Visiting Smallville: 14b/21
Sam sat in the motel, grinning at the sight of his brother’s empty bed. Dean hadn’t returned after he went to see Cassie, so Sam had been alone. Unfortunately, all he was able to think about was how he hadn’t told Jess the family secret and how that demon that they exorcised on the plane had spoken to him about her.
It had been a bad idea telling that story to Chloe.
His phone rang and he turned it over in his hand, tensing at Chloe’s name. He opened his phone, but paused, unsure whether or not he should answer. After a few more rings, he pressed answer and raised it to his ear.
“Chloe?” he asked. “Why are you calling?”
“Am I no longer allowed?” she said, her voice croaky. “Seeing as I spend all my time with you.”
“What?” Sam asked, confused. “Are you alright? You sound like you’ve been crying.”
There was a silence on the other end. “Clark hates me.” she said suddenly. “I was looking into his adoption and Clark got mad.”
“Clark’s adopted?” Sam asked, reaching over for their father’s journal so he could write that information in. “Didn’t he know?”
“Yeah.” Chloe spat. “But you know, I can’t look into Clark at all but he can be as thorough as he wants with Lana Lang.”
“What’s happened?”
“I found that his adoption was the only one the charity handled.” she said. “It can’t be just me who thinks that’s strange?”
“It’s not.” Sam assured her. “Was that why you called?”
“What are you doing?” she asked. “What’s Dean’s girlfriend like?”
Sam paused. “She’s a journalist.” he admitted. “But she’s nothing like you. She is less than willing to accept anything strange or unusual.”
“Shouldn’t venture near Smallville then.” Chloe muttered. “What made her call you?”
“We think there’s this black truck killing black people.” Sam told her. “And it’s somehow connected to Cassie.” Sam frowned when his phone showed that he had missed a call. “Sorry, Chloe, but I have to go.”
He heard Chloe swallow. “Sam.” she murmured. “It’s times like this, when Clark isn’t talking to me and Pete is occupied by the student store manager, when…” Sam paused, his hand hovering over the red button. “Pete and Clark are really my only friends… I mean there’s Lana but she tends to be with Clark…Well, I…” Sam was still, waiting for her to finish. “Nevermind.”
She hung up.
Sam frowned. What she was going to say? He sat for a second longer, before calling whoever had just called him.
*
“He’s with me.” Sam told the policeman, waving Dean over. “Where were you last night?” Dean said nothing, so Sam smiled. “You didn’t make it back to the motel.”
“Nope.” Dean grinned.
“So I’m guessing you guys worked things out?”
Dean grimaced. “We’ll be working things out when we’re ninety.” Sam laughed. “What happened?”
“Every bone crushed. Internal organs turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, but it’s like something ran him over.”
Dean groaned. “Like a truck?”
“Yeah.”
“Tracks?”
“No.”
Dean sighed. “What was the mayor doing here anyway?”
“He owned the property, bought it a few weeks ago.”
“yeah, but he’s white.” Dean grumbled. “He doesn’t fit the pattern.”
Sam nodded. “Killings didn’t happen up on the road. That doesn’t fit either.”
*
“Chloe?” Sam said into his phone, watching as Cassie offered his brother a coffee. “Hey.”
“Hi.” she answered.
“Before?” Sam started. “What were you going to say?”
There was silence. “Why did you call me Sam?” She sounded tired. “Do you need me?”
Sam didn’t answer, frowning when Dean noticed him. “Is that Chloe?” Dean called over. “She could be useful.”
There was a laugh on the other end. “I heard that.” Chloe said, sounding happier. “I’d be glad to help.”
Sam grimaced, walking over to Dean and sitting by the opposite desk. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Sam asked, his voice quiet so Dean wouldn’t hear.
“I’m fine.” Chloe answered. “If Clark doesn’t talk to me soon, I’m going to go to Martha Kent and beg for baby pictures so I can blackmail him into talking to me.”
“How will that work?” Sam wondered, smiling slightly at the improvement in Chloe’s mood.
“Well, after begging for the photos, he’ll have spent so much time with me, he’ll remember what a wonderful person I am.” He could tell she was grinning. “So, what do I need to do?” Sam pressed the speaker button so her voice echoed round the whole room. “My recent investigation hasn’t gone too well, so I need something to look into.”
“Thanks.” Dean grinned at the phone. “I’m trying to find a link between some killings in the sixties and what’s going on now, but there wasn’t a lot about it in the paper.”
“Dean, I’m not psychic.” Chloe joked. “I can’t hear your voice and instantly know what you’re hunting.” Dean rolled his eyes, explaining everything to Chloe. Chloe listened quietly. “You know, Dean.” Chloe said suddenly. “I’m sure you can find your way round the internet. To me, it seems like you’re using me.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, not knowing that she had had a bad day. “Use you?” he replied, sounding shocked. “Never! Digging up information’s your only purpose.”
“Hey!”
“What else would I need you for?” Dean asked.
Chloe was silent for a few seconds. “You know, Dean, not all information is meant to be excavated.”
Dean frowned. “You help, I’ll buy you pie.”
“I don’t like pie.”
“What?” Dean gaped, looking at Sam in astonishment.
“Off-topic, Shorty.” she snapped.
Dean raised his eyebrows. “Unless you’ve had a sudden growth spurt, you were the short one.” Chloe laughed. “Now come on, I’ll get Sam to buy you a coffee.”
He grinned over at his brother, who rolled his eyes. “Fine.” Chloe sighed. “But only because you asked so nicely.”
The phone line fell silent.
Cassie shot confused glances at Sam, who shrugged. “Who’s Chloe?” she asked.
“A family friend.” Sam answered. “Chloe’s in high school. I think Dean thinks of her as a little sister.”
Cassie relaxed, leaning over Dean to read what was on his computer screen.
“Like I said, Chloe.” Dean finished. “There’s nothing in the papers.”
“Not surprising.” Cassie told him. “Probably minimal police work too. Back then, equal justice under the law wasn’t too literal around here.”
Sam reached for a small book, reading through it, listening to the typing coming from Dean. “The courthouse records show that Mr and Mrs Mayor bought an abandoned property.” he read. “The previous owner was the Dorian family for like 150 years.”
“Dorian?” Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Yeah.”
“Didn’t you say that the Dorian family used to own this paper?” Dean asked Cassie.
“Along with most everything else around here.” Cassie answered. “Real pillars of the town.”
Suddenly, Chloe gasped and Dean reached for the phone, Sam grabbing it first. “What?” he asked.
“So much for nothing in the paper.” She said and Sam sniggered when Dean frowned. “I found this article -‘Dorian still missing. Cyrus Dorian missing for more than a week.’ - Cyrus Dorian vanished in April of 1963. This was when the murders was going on, right?”
“Yeah.” Sam said, clicking on something on the computer. “I pulled up a bunch of paper up on the Dorian place, it must have been in bad shape when the Mayor bought it.”
“Why?” Dean asked.
“The first thing he did was bulldoze the place.”
“Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?” Dean repeated, scowling.
“It was a big deal. One of the oldest local houses left. It made the first page.” Cassie grimaced.
“You got a date, Sammy?”
“The third of last month.” Sam read. “The first killing was the very next day.”
*
“So, solved.” Chloe grinned into her phone. “That’s my first successful case in a while. Then again, I didn’t look that much into the gift wrapped hand that Lex received yesterday.”
“What?” Sam asked, sounding shocked.
“Don’t know. Something to do with Lex’s past, according to Clark.” she frowned. “Now, I just have to get phase one of my ‘Baby Photo Blackmail’ Plan into action.”
“I’m sure it will work.”
“Yeah.” she breathed. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Bye, Chloe.”
“Bye, Sam.”
She hung up, almost placing her phone down on the table. She frowned when it burst into sound, the caller id displaying the name ‘Clark Kent’.
“Clark?” she answered, her voice quiet. “Look, I’m sor…”
He interrupted her, and his voice was panicked. “Chloe, I’m not calling about that. Can you just get here as soon as possible?”
Chloe’s eyes widened at his tone. “Yeah, Clark. I’ll be there. But after that, we need to talk.”
Clark hung up, and Chloe grimaced, seizing the keys to her dads Volvo and running outside the house. She sped through Smallville, pulling up at the Kent Farm. It was empty, but she spotted many vans parked by the Kent’s field, so she ran over.
She paused, shocked at what met her eyes. Numerous LuthorCorp barrels were spread, open, across the Kent’s fields. Dead cows lay scattered round the field, near the puddles of bubbling chemicals. Chloe sprinted back to her car, grabbed her camera and returned, carefully approaching Clark. He saw her, waving her over before turning back to watch as men in protective suits investigated.
“What do you think happened?” she asked, her voice quiet. Clark turned to look at her, frowning. “Why would LuthorCorp dump their stuff here?” Clark shrugged, twirling away from her when Lex Luthor called out his name. Chloe scowled, resting her hand gently on Clark’s arm. “I’m going to take some photos from different angles.”
Clark nodded, letting her walk away.
*
Sam passed Cassie a cup of tea before sitting opposite her, watching her with concern. A few minutes ago, she had called them for help and Dean had rushed them over. It turned out that the truck had appeared outside of Cassie’s house, lights blazing.
“You didn’t see who was driving the truck?” Dean asked, holding Cassie tightly. “Anyone?”
“Seemed to be no one.” she muttered. “Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn’t it kill us?”
Sam missed Chloe and her strange conclusions that always seemed to be right. At times like this, she would have been useful.
“Whoever’s controlling the truck wants you afraid first.”
Sam turned to Cassie’s mother. “Mrs Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.”
She didn’t respond.
“Mom?” Cassie whispered.
“Oh, Martin was under a lot of stress.” she answered casually, not looking at anyone. “You can’t be sure what he was seeing.”
“Well, after tonight, I think we can be reasonably sure that he was seeing a truck.” Dean said, shocked at Mrs Robinson’s denial. “What happened tonight - you and Cassie are marked. Okay?”
“Dean...” Cassie warned.
Mrs Robinson sobbed. “Yes.” she whimpered. “Yes, he said he saw a truck.”
“Did he know who it belonged too?” Sam asked gently.
“He thought he did.”
“Who was that?” Dean asked.
Mrs Robinson sniffed slightly. “Cyrus.” she whispered. “A man named Cyrus.”
Dean nodded, pulling the faxed article from his pocket. “Is this Cyrus?” he asked, pointing at the greyscale picture.
“Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.” stated Mrs Robinson.
“How do you know he died?” Dean asked, grimacing as Mrs Robinson looked away guiltily. “The paper said he went missing. How do you know he died?”
“We were all very young.” protested Mrs Robinson. “I dated Cyrus for awhile, but I also seeing Martin. In secret, of course. Interracial couples didn’t go over too well then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin…I don’t know, he - he changed. His hatred was frightening.”
Sam shot a surprised look at Dean. “The murders.”
“There were rumours. People of colour disappearing in some kind of truck. But nothing was ever done.” Once again, she collapsed back into the chair, crying. “Martin and I, we were, uh, going to be married in that little church near here. But last minute, we decided to elope because we didn’t want the attention.”
“And Cyrus?” Dean prompted.
“The day we set for the wedding was … the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children’s choir practicing there. They all died.”
“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asked, softly.
“No.” she cried. “There was one more. One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”
She stopped, shaking. Dean frowned. “Why didn’t he call the cops?”
“This was forty years ago!” she screamed, hysterical “He called on his friends, Clayton Solmes and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus’ body in the truck and rolled it into the swamp at the end of this land, and all three of them kept this secret all these years.”
“And now all three are gone.” Sam whispered.
“So is Mayor Todd.” Dean added. “Now, he said that you, of all people, would know that he is not a racist. Why would he say that?”
“He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then, investigating Cyrus’ disappearance.” Mrs Robinson said, really quietly. “Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done, he...he did nothing. Because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”
Cassie’s eyes widened and she sobbed slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought I was protecting them.” Her mother sighed. “And now there’s no one left to protect.”
“Yes.” Dean said suddenly. “There is.”
Mrs Robinson’s eyes widened and she turned to her daughter, reaching out for her hand.
*
Later, the Winchester’s strode out of Cassie’s house, standing at the porch.
“My life was so simple. Just school.” Sam laughed weakly, talking to Dean. “Exams. Papers on polycentric norms.”
Dean chuckled. “So, I guess I saved you from a boring existence.”
“Yeah.” Sam admitted. “Occasionally, I miss boring.”
Dean smiled. “Alright.” Dean started. “So, this killer truck...”
Sam grinned. “I miss conversations that don’t start with ‘this killer truck’.”
“This Cyrus guy...”
“Yeah.” Sam said, listening to his brother.
“Evil on a level that infected even his truck.” Dean grimaced. “And when he died, the swamp became his tomb. And his spirit was dormant for forty years.”
“So, what woke it up?”
“The construction on his house. Or, the destruction.”
“Right.” Sam nodded. “Demolition or remodelling can awaken sprits, make them restless. Like that theatre in Illinois.”
“Yeah. And the guy who tears down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy who kept Cyrus’ murder unsolved.”
“So now his spirit’s awakened and out for blood.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Dean grimaced. “Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway?”
“You know,” Sam groaned. “We’re going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?” Dean grinned largely, falsely, and nodded his head. “Oh man.”
“You said it.” Sam smiled just as Cassie slid through the door. Dean turned, smirking at her. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She replied, her voice weak. “She’s asleep. Now what?”
“Well, you stay put.” Dean ordered. “Look after her. We’ll be back. Don’t leave the house.”
“Don’t go getting all authoritative on me.” Cassie snapped, smiling. “I hate it.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t leave the house, please. “
Sam turned to walk away, smirking as he saw Dean lean in to kiss Cassie. He frowned, leaning against the Impala, smirking as Dean held up one finger.
*
“Can I talk to you for a second?” Chloe whispered, looking down when Clark looked up from the sofa. “How are you doing?”
She looked up so that she could see what Clark was doing. He was staring at her, frowning. “That depends if it’s on the record or not.”
Chloe bit her lip nervously, stepping slowly forward and perching herself on the small coffee table, just away from a pile of papers. “Okay, I deserved that.” She admitted. “Look, I didn’t mean to ambush you with the whole adoption thing.”
“Hey, you saw a story and you went for it.” Clark snarled. “That’s what journalists do.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Chloe murmured, smiling when Clark leant towards her. “I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you, and you know, I...” she swallowed, reaching out for Clark’s hand and clasped it with her own, raising her eyes to catch Clark’s intense stare. “I would much rather have a friend than a subject. So I’m dropping the whole thing.”
Clark smiled. “Thank you.”
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked, tightening her grip on Clark’s hand. “Totally off the record. Do you ever wonder about your biological parents?”
Clark sighed. “Every day of my life.”
Chloe smiled, awkwardly, releasing Clark’s hand. There was a silence, Clark watching her as she reached for her phone, checking it as she tried to make the atmosphere less awkward. She had no messages so she frowned, instead glancing at the wooden table. Her eyes widened at the aged copy of the Inquisitor spread over the table. “Looks like I’m not the only one doing some digging.” She grinned, scanning through the article. “What’s Club Zero?”
“Part of Lex’s past he asked me to stay out of.” Clark admitted.
Chloe frowned. “Oh, by the way,” she started, pulling some photos out from her pocket. “I brought by some pictures from your parents. I figured they could use it for insurance purposes and stuff. I’ll see you later.” She whispered, watching as he took them from her. “I have to go.”
“Chloe?” Clark said, scowling, passing her a picture back. A CEP man was frowning at the camera, but nothing strange. She raised an eyebrow, smiling as Clark grimaced, snatching the photo back and laying it next to the Inquisitor. “It’s the same guy.”
“Wait...” Chloe murmured, sitting back next to Clark. “But isn’t he...I mean, he’s...”
Clark nodded. “Dead.”
*
“Alright.” Sam said, watching as Dean controlled the dredge. “Let’s get her up.” Dean nodded, pulling the truck almost completely out of the swamp. “Little more.” Sam told him. There was a loud noise, then Dean was slowly dragging the truck up from the swamp. “Stop.”
Dean climbed out the vehicle, raising an eyebrow at the old truck. “Hell, yeah.”
“What am I getting?” Sam asked.
“Gas, flashlight.” Dean listed, watching his brother.
“Got them.” He added.
“Alright, let’s get this done.”
Sam nodded, approaching the door of the car and standing by the driver’s side door. They exchanged an anxious glance, then Dean opened it, cautiously, wincing when they saw the decomposing body of who they assumed was Cyrus Dorian.
Dean nodded at his brother, pulling the body out of the truck and laying it down. Dean poured salt over the body while Sam poured the gas onto the corpse. Dean tossed a lighter onto the dead body, stepping back as it burst into flames.
“Think that’ll do it?! Sam asked.
They turned as there was roaring from down the road, eyes widening at the headlights. “I guess not.”
“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” Sam asked, standing still as he watched the black truck.
“Sure it did.” Moaned Dean. “Now it’s really pissed.”
“But Cyrus’ ghost is gone, right, Dean?”
“Apparently not.” Dean groaned. “At least not the part that’s fused with the truck.”
Dean stepped away from Sam, walking towards the Impala. “Where are you going?” Sam asked.
“I’m going for a little ride.” Dean smirked.
“What?”
“I’m going to lead that thing away.” He answered. “That rusted crap, you need to burn it.”
Sam gaped. “How the hell am I supposed to burn a truck, Dean?”
Dean grinned. “Figure something out.”
Sam frowned as Dean got into the Impala and pulled away from the swamp, the truck chasing after him. Sam cursed, pulling his father’s journal out of his pocket and rifling through it. His cell phone rang and he picked it up.
“Chloe?” he answered quickly, hearing her start talking. “I really don’t have time. I’ll call you back.”
He didn’t give her time to respond, hanging up and returning to the book. The phone rang once again and he almost didn’t pick it up. It rang on and he answered.
“Dean, you have to give me a minute.”
“I don’t have a minute!” Dean’s panicked voice echoed through the phone. “What are we doing?”
Sam glanced round nervously. “Let me get back to you.” Sam hung up, flicking through his phone book and calling Chloe. “Chloe? Don’t speak. This is important.” There was silence. “I need you to find the exact spot of an old church...”
*
“Dean?” Sam called into the phone, sighing when Dean picked it up. “Alright?”
“This had better be good.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m in the middle of nowhere with a killer truck on my ass!” Dean yelled. “I mean, it’s like it knows I put a torch to Cyrus.”
“Dean, listen to me.” Sam said calmly. “It’s important that I know exactly where you are!”
There was a short silence before Dean replied. “Decatur Road, about two miles off the highway.”
“Okay, head east.” Sam ordered.
“Yes.” There was a silence. “You son of a bitch!”
“Okay, uh, turn right.” Sam said, anxious. “Up ahead, turn right. You make the turn?”
“Yeah!” Dean replied, Sam hearing the nerves in his voice. “You’re going to need to move this thing along a little faster.”
“Right, you see a road ahead?” Sam read from a sheet of paper he held in front of him, a rough map drawn onto the sheet. “Turn left.”
“What!” Dean snarled. “Alright.”
“You need to go exactly seven-tenths of mile, then stop.”
“Stop?”
“Exactly seven-tenths, Dean.”Sam stood still, waiting for a few seconds as Dean fell quiet. “Dean, are you still there?”
“Yeah.” Dean replied, his voice quiet.
“What’s happening?”
“It’s just staring at me.” Dean answered. “What do I do?”
“Just do what you are doing. Bringing it to you.” Sam tensed as the phone fell silent, and for a few minutes he just listened. “Dean?” he whispered. “Dean? You still there?”
“Where’d it go?”
“Dean, you’re where the church was.” Sam told him, smiling with relief.
“What church?”
“The place Cyrus burned down.” Sam answered. “Murdered all those kids.”
“Not a whole lot left.”
“Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits that cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they’re destroyed.” Sam told his brother. “So I figured maybe that would get rid of it.”
“Maybe?” Dean shouted. “Maybe? What if you were wrong.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “Honestly, that thought hadn’t occurred to me.”
*
Chloe sat in the Torch office, the picture of the dead man still up on her computer screen. Her phone rang, and she picked it up.
“Clark?” she answered, but there was silence.
“Uh, no, it’s Sam.”
Chloe smiled slightly. “Did it work?” she answered. “Dean’s insides aren’t melted, right? The church co-ordinates were right?”
“You weren’t sure?”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. It worked.” She replied. “How’s Dean, then?”
“Well, I think Cassie and him are over.” Sam told her quietly. “We’re on our way home.”
Chloe grinned. “Well, Sam, I think hunting isn’t the best job for love.” She said. “Do you have any idea how someone could come back from the dead?”
Sam was silent. “I don’t know. We’ll discuss it when we’re back.”
“Yeah.” She agreed. “Tell Dean I’m glad he’s alright.” She grinned. “And, remember, you owe me a coffee.”
Sam groaned, causing Chloe to giggle. She looked up, just as Clark strode into the Torch.
“Chloe, I think it’s Dean who owes you a coffee.”
Chloe didn’t say anything for a few seconds, smiling up at Clark instead. “Sam,” she said into her phone, ignoring how Clark frowned. “I didn’t just help Dean. In fact, I’d say you owed me two coffees.”
“Not at once.”
Chloe giggled again, scowling slightly when she felt Clark lay a hand on her shoulder. “Sam, I have to go.”
Clark pulled the phone from her hand, slapping it closed before smiling weakly at her. “Chloe?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Everything alright?”
“Still no word from Lex.” Clark said, looking worried. “No one’s spoken to him since this morning.”
“Okay, well, I pulled our alleged dead guy’s license plate.” She pointed at the screen. “It’s registered to a John Smith. Very original. He has an address in Metropolis and he does not work for the CEP.”
“How did you do that?” Clark asked.
“I hacked into the DMV database.” Chloe answered. “See? Sometimes, persistence is a good thing.”
“Call Metropolis PD.” Clark told her, straightening up. “Have them go to the address.”
Chloe glanced up at him, frowning. “What’s going on?”
“I think Lex is in serious trouble.”
Chloe nodded, reaching for the phone. When she turned around, Clark was gone. “Clark?”
*
Chloe sat in front of her computer, the only light coming from the screen. One hand was twisting her necklace round her hands and the other lay on the computer mouse. She stared at the screen, reading the article one more time before looking at the dialogue box.
Save Document?
Chloe gulped, the mouse hovering above Delete, but she grimaced, changing it to the save button. She frowned, changing back to delete and then back to save.
She sighed as the clock changed, marking it to be eight o’clock. Finally, she pressed save. As the document fell from the screen, the lights flickered on and she looked up.
The Winchester’s stood in the doorway, looking at her.
“I figured you’d be here.” Sam smiled, walking over to her. “Why are you all dressed up?”
Chloe blushed slightly. “The Talon’s opening tonight.” She told them. “If I remember, you promised to take me.”
Chloe scowled when she didn’t hear a normal snigger from Dean, who instead was just watching them, frowning slightly. She paused, remembering how Sam had said that Cassie had finished with Dean.
“We’ll meet you back at the house.” Sam told his brother, slipping an arm round Chloe’s waist and leading her towards the door.
Chloe frowned, turning round to see Dean still standing in the room. “Dean?” she said, smiling weakly as he turned to face her. “You know, Martha Kent is catering so there’ll probably be pie.” Dean didn’t respond, and Chloe shot Sam a worried look. “Lots of it.” There was still no answer. “It’s probably free.”
Dean rolled his eyes, turning to face them. “Fine.” He said, smirking slightly. “But don’t blame me for interrupting your date.”
Chloe grinned, stepping away from Sam and walking over to Dean. He stared at her, confused, as she leant closer towards him for a short time, then stepped back, the Impala keys dangling from her finger.
“You’ll have to beat me to the car though.” She said, beaming. “You don’t want to have to walk.”
Dean growled as she turned away, running past Sam and grabbing his hand, pulling him down the corridor as they ran from Dean.
He caught up quickly, snatching the keys back from her hand and ruffling her hair. She frowned, annoyed, letting go of Sam’s hand to adjust her hair.
“Sorry, Shorty.” He told her, chuckling. “Only Winchesters drive." Next Part