Fic: Darker & Wilder (Supernatural) 4/6
Just as a quick note, we are almost up to where I'm currently writing. If you are following along with this story, updates might slow a little as I finish the last parts. I'm looking at probably one more chapter.
Title: Darker & Wilder (pt.4)
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s): Jess, Dean, Sam
Pairing(s): Gen
Word Count: 4,763
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. Like at all.
Summary: Jess is worried when Sam leaves in a hurry one Friday afternoon. The only thing he can offer her before he goes is a phone number and promise to be back by Sunday night. When he doesn't show up on time, Jess makes the call.
“Sam,” Jess said. She was watching as he shoved a spare set of clothes into his bag. The old thing looked stained and worn. He had dumped everything from his weekend trip out onto the foot of the bed and was repacking odds and ends that he’d decided they might need. Jess was hesitant to bring the topic up, but she felt like it was her job to be the responsible one here. “I know you want to be there, but are you sure that’s a good idea? You just had twenty three stitches in your side and a concussion. Maybe you should sit this one out.”
Sam shrugged. “It’ll be fine,” he said. He picked up the neat stack of clothes she’d pulled from her closet earlier. Sam had been adamant that she might want something clean when they were done. She was trying her hardest to defer to him in this until she got proof one way or another. Sam gave her a quick smile as he zipped the bag up. “Dean will do the digging. I’ll just be on shotgun duty. I’ve done harder in worse shape.”
That was far from a comforting thought. Somehow, every time one of the brothers tried to be reassuring, they let a little more slip about their past. Far from doing anything to calm her nerves, it usually just made her that much more anxious. At this point she was beginning to wonder how either of them had survived into adulthood.
Behind her in the doorway, Dean grunted. “He’s right. I could do this one in my sleep solo. Which is the only reason you’re coming along.”
Jess scowled at him. They had been nothing but adamant that she was only going because this was the easiest thing they had found. If the situation hadn’t been quite so serious, she’d have let both of them have it for their elitist crap.
“I think you just don’t want a girl to show you up.”
Dean burst into laughter. It caught her by surprise. It was the kind of laugh that was infectious. She glared at him. “Sweetheart, I don’t care what you’ve got between your legs. I care that you’re greener than new grass.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sam and I - we’ve trained our whole lives for this job. You’ve had what, a Y class in karate? You got no clue how to handle yourself out there. So when I tell you this is the only thing you’re going on, I mean it.”
“Dean,” Sam barked. “Lay off. She’s not becoming a hunter so you can quit harassing her about it.”
Dean shrugged. “I’m good,” he said with a grin. “If you’re finished packing, let’s go. I want to roll out in five.”
Sam shouldered the bag and slung an arm around Jess. Together they headed downstairs and out towards where the car was parked on the street. The warm sun on her face felt nice after the days of worry and waiting. Sam’s comforting arm around her shoulders did a lot to settle her nerves and make things feel normal, even if she was about to try and see a ghost.
As a group they piled back into the Impala. Jess has expected Sam to climb into the back seat next to her, but he’d slid into the passenger seat without a thought. The grin on his face couldn’t have been brighter. She knew she wouldn’t begrudge him it for anything. For the first time in the entire time she’d know him, he was completely relaxed. Everything in him melted into the leather seat as he griped about Dean’s taste in music.
Jess couldn’t help the small smile that grew from watching him. She hadn’t gotten much more out of him after his revelation about growing up as a monster hunter, but even she could see that for Sam this was home. This was the same ease she had when she strolled into her parent’s house and curled up in her childhood bedroom, surrounded by all the things that reminded her of being a kid.
In the light of day, she realized the inside of the car looked well worn - not dilapidated or uncared for, but lived in and well used. Every single bit of the inside had been lovingly taken care of. She glanced over and spied a green army man wedged into the tray on the door. She reached over intending to pull it out and examine it, but found it stuck.
Sam’s voice was full of laughter when he said, “That’s been there since we were kids. Dean melted the base of it on accident. I thought Dad was going to tan our hides when he found it.”
“I didn’t do any such thing,” Dean said.
Sam snorted. “We had been learning how to start fires. He took a pair of Dad’s old reading glasses and was playing with them, only he melted the base accidentally.”
“Watch it, Sammy,” Dean warned. “You don’t keep your mouth shut, I might accidentally tell your girl about your streaker phase.”
“Dean!” Sam sounded every bit the annoyed baby brother. “I was like two!”
“You started it.”
“I was just explaining.”
“No, you were tattling.”
“I-“
“Boys!” Jess has to cut in. She would never be able to fathom how their father had ever put up with them, especially if they travelled by car as much as they claimed. She would have dumped them on the side of the road and told them to walk, and she’d only dealt with the two of them together for a few hours.
The two grown men shut their mouths and traded a look. Sam started to laugh. “Sorry.”
She couldn’t find it in herself to be mad, not when Sam never laughed that freely or smiled that broadly at home. The levity only lasted a hundred miles before both of them started to grow somber. Sam pulled his laptop out of his school bag and opened it up, pulling up something that looked like an obituary from where she was sitting.
“Alright,” Dean said. “We got about twenty minutes before we hit town. What’s the deal with this one?”
“Gary Sullivan,” Sam said, matter-of-factly. “Died three years ago through suspicious circumstances that were eventually ruled accidental. Fell off a cliff in a favored hiking spot and drowned in the reservoir below. Additional injuries suggested he’d been pushed, but that was discounted. Coroner claimed he could have just as easily hit the rocks on the way down. No way to conclusively prove foul play and no outstanding suspects with both motive and means.”
“So what’s he been up to?”
“Locals have claimed to have seen odd things happening around the reservoir. Lights, cold spots, localized wind. One solo hiker claims he was pushed. He caught himself on the lip before he could go over completely, but when he climbed back up there wasn’t any trace of anyone else. Two others have been injured. The official line so far has been that they were because the rock is starting to give way up there.”
“Why now?”
“Dunno. I haven’t found any suspicious disturbances in the area. His wife is remarrying, but she hasn’t reported any strange or violent activity. His former partner is taking over the law firm officially next month, but again nothing that would seem supernatural going on there.”
“I don’t like when we don’t have a motive,” Dean said. “Means it’s a wild card.”
Sam shrugged. “He’s buried in Lakeside Memorial Cemetery. It’s a good fifteen miles away from the lookout. Do you want to make the hike or go straight to the grave?”
“Think we should talk to the wife or the partner?”
“I doubt it. If he was haunting them, surely there’d have been some activity by now. It sounds like he’s been active for at least a few months. Besides, without some sort of motive, we have no idea how to spin it. Feds would seem suspicious. It wasn’t a national park. He had no extended family, which was widely known. And at over 3 years, insurance wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole.”
Jess frowned. She had been trying to absorb everything they were talking about, but that last comment concerned her. “Wait a minute,” she said, leaning forward in her seat. “Are you saying you regularly impersonate federal agents? Isn’t that a felony?”
Dean grinned over at Sam. “She’s cute.”
Sam just scowled at him. He turned to face her over the back of the seat. “Because monsters operate off the radar, so do hunters. There’s not a lot that’s legal about that line of work. If I told you all the ways we broke the law, we’d be here all day. But to be fair, I never actually impersonated anyone. I was still too young when I left. I was always the tag along intern. It meant I got left alone to do the grunt work a lot.”
“You do realize you’re about to partake in grave desecration, right? For a noble cause,” Dean rushed to assure her. “But I’ve got more than one charge of that on my record.”
Jess shook her head. This was sounding less and less like a good idea by the minute. It was all fine and good to see a ghost. It was decidedly less fine to go to jail for committing a felony.
“Let’s take the hike,” Dean said after a beat. “We’re going to have some time before we can get to work. Might as well poke around and see if we can tell what’s gotten him so spooked.”
Sam nodded. “Take exit 93 and make a left. It’s a straight shot through town to the nature center. Should be signs for it. We’re looking for Canyon Road.”
They didn’t talk anymore. Jess tried to stay quiet out of respect. It felt like mental preparation for a big test. She didn’t know if it was because they had her along, or because it had been so long for Sam. For all she knew it was always like this for them. When they parked in the small gravel lot beside the trailhead, the brothers climbed out in tandem and wordlessly went to the back of the car. Jess followed them, peaking over Dean’s broad shoulders to see that they had propped open a compartment that housed a wide variety of weaponry. She saw guns, knives, even a can of spray paint rolling around in addition to a huge arsenal of things she didn’t remotely recognize.
Sam frowned down into the trunk. He picked up a pistol, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans. Then he pulled out a short pipe. It was no longer than her forearm. He tested the heft of it, giving it a good swing through the air. Apparently satisfied, he turned to her and held it out. “For emergencies only,” he said. “It’s iron. Iron and salt repel spirits, but I don’t want you to go attacking. If for some reason it gets past me and Dean, then you swing hard. Aim for the head or the torso.”
Jess nodded. She had already gotten the lecture that she was to stay back and watch, not get involved. Between the two brothers there were two shotguns, a pistol, and a tire iron, and that’s just what she’d seen them pull from their makeshift armory. They were equipped to fight off an angry bear, in her unprofessional opinion. Still, the weight of the pipe was reassuring in her hand. Their warnings had wormed into her head. It was good to be prepared for whatever might be at the top of the trail. At least if it turned out Sam was crazy, she was armed now.
Dean handed them each a bottle of water and slammed the trunk closed. “Should be a short hike. Let’s go poke around.”
It was a short hike. It took them less than ten minutes to get to the top. Jess had to admit, the view was stunning. They were standing well back from the edge of a limestone bluff that dropped off and down into a clear blue reservoir. The surrounding area was lush and green. It was the kind of place Sam might have taken her to on a date. She wished she could pretend they had just come out here to be alone.
Sam and Dean split up, searching the area for anything that looked out of place. They never explained what exactly that might be, so Jess let them work. She heard them calling to one another when they didn’t find anything. She was still mostly convinced there wasn’t anything to find. Even if there had been a murder here, it had been years ago now. It’s not like there was going to be fresh blood splashed around on the rocks.
Jess pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders and wandered a little closer to the drop off, looking at the steep cliff. She felt a shiver run down her spine. At first she thought it was just the grisly thought of what had happened there, but then an icy hand grasped her arm. She tried to spin on her heel, but the grip was like steel and she felt herself being pushed towards the edge.
“Sam!”
Sam looked up and locked eyes with her. In seconds he was leaping towards her, grabbing her just in time to keep her from plummeting into the reservoir below. Her feet dangled under her, scrambling for purchase against the rocks. Above her, she heard a shot go off and flinched, but Sam held her tight. With a grin he hauled her up.
Dean was standing a few feet back, feet planted shoulder width apart. He had his gun drawn and was looking wildly around. “Get back!” He barked.
Sam grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the edge.
“Any theories, genius?” Dean’s tone had turned annoyed. Jess frowned at the change in his demeanor.
“How was I supposed to know,” Sam snapped back.
“It’s your research project.”
“All the signs pointed to Gary!”
Jess knew she had missed something. Sam and Dean had backed up, wedging her between them as they sniped at each other. Jess was on high alert, trying to see whatever had tried to push her over.
“Well unless he’s a very convincing cross dresser, it wasn’t him!”
“What’s wrong,” Jess demanded. She could still feel the quiver in her legs from the adrenaline rush and the boys’ antics weren’t helping her nerves.
She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Something stirred the air to her right and a figure appeared in front of them. A young woman, perhaps a year or two older than Jess stood barely three feet away. She was dressed in torn, bloody clothes. Her entire form was deathly white and semi-transparent.
Jess had to bite back the ludicrous impulse to laugh. Dean fired another round at her and she disappeared, only to reappear next to Sam. Jess couldn’t do anything but stare as the girl started to reach for his arm.
Sam snatched the iron bar from where it had fallen in her mad scramble earlier and swung it straight through the girl’s midsection, banishing her again.
“We’ve got to get down from here,” Sam yelped.
Dean was forced to shoot again when she appeared screaming next to him. “No shit. Any other obvious statements you’d like to add?”
Sam didn’t rise to the bait this time. He grabbed her hand without turning around. He squeezed it and said, “Get ready to run. Don’t stop until we’re back at the car.”
They were waiting for something, although what Jess couldn’t tell. When the ghost popped up again, this time reaching for Jess, Sam spun them, took another swipe, then pushed her back towards the path. “Now!”
She took off running. She could hear Sam’s steady pace behind her and Dean’s swears following them up. She started wheezing a few minutes in, then slowed. Sam, now beside her, didn’t even look winded as he kept pace. “Don’t stop!”
She grimaced, but pushed herself on. She nearly cried in relief when the sleek side of the Impala came into view. This time Sam dove into the back seat with her as Dean started pulling out of the lot, door still ajar.
“What the hell, dude?”
“I don’t know! The signs didn’t start until Gary’s death,” Sam said as he pulled her tight to him. “He must have been the first victim. The report did seem to think he’d been pushed.”
Dean took a steadying breath and slowed the car as he pulled onto the main road. “Right. So now what?”
Sam glanced at his watch. Jess studied him surreptitiously. He was looking a little rumpled from the fight, but otherwise didn’t seem bothered. He’d barely even broken a sweat.
“Library’s closed,” he said. “Let’s stop by the diner. I can probably get enough signal in there to do some digging. At least now we know why there didn’t seem to be a motive.”
“Whoopdy freaking doo.”
“Hey, don’t tell me you’re not ready for dinner. I know you better than that.”
“Yeah well, nearly getting thrown off a cliff works up an appetite.”
“She didn’t even touch you.”
“So,” Dean asked. “And you’re letting me check those stitches. Don’t think I didn’t see that dirt dive earlier.”
Sam winced, but he shook his head. “It’s fine. I didn’t bust a stitch.”
“Then you won’t mind letting me see.”
Sam sank back into the seat. “Fine, whatever.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.”
Meanwhile, Jess has been focusing on their banter as a way to distract herself. She was not entirely sure what she just saw, but she had been a handbreadth away from going into the reservoir herself. Suddenly Sam’s claims that supernatural monsters existed were a lot easier to believe.
Their little sniping match apparently over, Sam turned his attention to her. He pulled her tight against his side, letting her lay her head on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly. “How are you doing? Are you hurt at all?”
She shook her head. True she had been seconds away from disaster, but Sam has been there and kept her safe.
“I know the first time is always a little...terrifying, but it’s okay. It was just a ghost.”
Jess snorted into his shirt, perhaps a bit hysterically. “Just a ghost? That’s not comforting.”
Sam rubbed her arm. “I know, but Dean and I know what we’re doing. You’re safe now and when all this is over, we’ll have dealt with her and no one else will get hurt.”
“Just like riding a bike, eh Sammy?”
Sam just rolled his eyes. “It’s Sam. How many times?”
“What exactly is a ghost?”
Sam shrugged. “Restless spirit, unfinished business. Not all that different from your normal horror movie. Most of them died violent or particularly horrible deaths. They’re still tethered here by something. That’s why we salt and burn the remains.”
She shuddered. “No wonder you hate Halloween.”
In the front seat, Dean snorted. “Nope! He’s just weird. Sam’s always hated it. Even when we were kids. I’ve never known why.”
“Not now, Dean.” He looked down at her. “Do you want to head home? You don’t have to ride along for the rest of this. Dean and I can finish it up and meet you back at campus.”
She shook her head and sat up. “No, I want to see this through.”
They pulled into the Night’n’Day diner a few minutes later. The pink neon from the sign glowed almost garishly, casting the entire parking lot in a rosy glow. The boys ushered her in and settled them at a back booth away from the other patrons. Jess has always noticed Sam did that, always sat at the back of a restaurant and never put his back to the room. It was part of why she had always assumed he’d been abused as a child. Seeing their life, it made sense now. It was where she wanted to be, too. So she didn’t object to their booth selection or the fact that Sam sat beside her so that she was wedge against the wall on the short bench seat. She didn’t comment as she saw Dean sweep the area or his subtle check of their waitress disguised as lingering eyes when the woman walked up to their table a mere thirty seconds after they’d sat down.
The waitress was a short, blonde woman in her late thirties with a name badge that read Sally pinned a little lower than strictly necessary. “Welcome to the diner,” she said with a toothy grin. “What can I get for you?”
Dean turned his hundred watt smile on her. Without so much as glancing at the menu he said, “I’ll take a coke and a cheese burger, extra onions.”
Sam, who had been buried in his laptop, pulled his eyes away long enough to give the girl a short smile and order a house salad and whatever soup she would recommend.
Jess felt like the odd man out when the waitress turned to her. Sam and Dean had spit out orders like they’d been coming in for years. She hadn’t even had a chance to glance over a menu, but she could feel the weight of the waitress’s expectant gaze. Her cheeks warmed as she stuttered out a request for a soda and fries, figuring that would be a safe bet. She shrugged at Dean’s questioning look.
The waitress came and went while they sat in silence. Sam was engrossed in his research. He was clacking away at his keyboard. What little she could see from her spot beside him meant little to her. He was so involved, he barely noticed the food that was dropped next to his hand. Dean nudged her toe with his boot, then winked at her. His deft fingers rolled his discarded straw wrapper into a ball and flicked it to smack Sam square in the forehead.
Sam frowned. “I’m busy,” was all he said.
“Food, Sam. Eat it.”
Sam took a distracted bite of his salad then set his fork back down, engrossed in what appeared to be coroner's reports. Jess was steadfastly trying not to look at the gory pictures as she nibbled at her fries.
“Sam,” Dean said. There was just a hint of warning in his tone. Sam huffed, then picked up the salad and set it between his arms in front of his keyboard, proceeding to shove it in his mouth between scrolling.
Dean made an exasperated face then grinned when he saw she was watching him. “Does he do this to you too?”
Jess shrugged, surprised at the question. “I don’t allow books at the dinner table.”
Dean laughed. “Ooh, I like you. You know, there was this one time when Sam thought it was a good idea to walk and read at the -” Dean jumped. “Gah! When did you put on your steel toes? Damn that hurt.”
Sam smirked, but didn’t respond.
“Anyway,” Dean said with a grin. “We were staying on this little ranch just outside the city. Remember, this is Texas, so there were cows and horses everywhere. Sam had walked into town to get supplies. It was like ninety degrees out and I’d felt sorry for the shrimp when I found out Dad had sent him, so I decided I’d meet him halfway and pick him up. He had some big book report due that week or something, and he decided that the walk was a good time to catch up. About the time I spotted him, I hear some girl calling his name. Kid looks up, still walking, and plants his foot right into a giant pile of horse shit. Only ‘cause he was looking around, he slips and goes down. He had it smeared all the way up his back. Needless to say I didn’t let him in my car after that. Dad threatened to hose him off in the yard.”
She smiled at him, aware he was being charming on purpose. Still, if he wanted to trade embarrassing Sam stories, she had a handful. “Yeah well,” she said. “Did he tell you about the time he accidentally turned himself pink?”
Sam frowned, typing a little more forcefully, but he still didn’t bother to look up from his research. He just pouted. “Jess? Really? You’re supposed to be the mature one.”
She waved him off. “Where’s the fun in that,” she asked, turning back to Dean. “He was feeling a little sore after he went too hard at the gym one day so he decided he was going to take a bath. Only he found these bath fizzer things that my Aunt Sally had given me. They were about a million years old because they stained the tub the last time I used one. I came home and the house reeked like lilies. When I found him, he’d fallen asleep in the tub. Everything from his neck down was a brilliant, neon pink. It took a week to wear off.”
Across from her, Dean was gasping for air. “I hope you got pictures!”
“Of course I did.”
Sam just groaned. “I hate you both.”
Jess patted his shoulder, but it didn’t stop her from laughing at him. The last of the terror from their earlier excursion was wearing off as she remembered how Sam had tried to pass the whole thing off as a vicious sunburn. That had fooled exactly no one.
The atmosphere turned more solemn when Sam finally snapped up and said, “I think I found something. The girl’s name is Rebecca Peterson. She was an intern at the law firm Gary ran. She went missing four years ago around Christmas. No sign of break in or struggle at her apartment. It was assumed she ran off.”
“Well this just keeps getting better and better. So you think he killed her?”
Sam shrugged. “Probably. Looks like she had brought allegations against Gary for harassment. There’s no record of it going any farther than an HR report at work though.”
“So, where do we start,” Jess asked.
Sam stared at the page that was up, not really reading it. “I don’t know. She could be anywhere. Most likely is in the lake.”
“Do you have any good news?” Dean’s scowl had returned.
“At least she didn’t kill us?”
“Wait,” Jess said with a frown. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”
“Remember we said the easiest way to get rid of a ghost is through a salt and burn,” Sam explained. “With no idea where she’s buried, we’ve got no leads. If Gary really did kill her, he probably took that secret to his own grave. At worst, and most likely, he dumped the body in the reservoir to hide the evidence. It would make sense if she’s been trying to push others in. That means we don’t have access to the remains.”
“Then what do we do?”
Dean scowled. “First we try talking to her, see if she won’t go on her own or at least show us where she’s buried. Tonight, that’s all we can do. If that doesn’t work, we start investigating locally. We’ll look into any Jane Does that came up in the last four years and start interviewing family and coworkers.”
“How would they have not identified the body?”
“Pretty easy. If you’re not in the system and had no reason to be in the area, there wouldn’t be much to make an ID on. Or the remains could have been too compromised. Lots of reasons.”
Jess couldn’t help the frown that tightened her expression. They both sounded like experienced cops or something. She had a hard time fathoming how they had gotten so used to the death and horror of the situation that they could speak so baldly about it. It made her want to hunt down their father and give him a piece of her mind. They had been doing this since they were children for goodness sake.
Sam closed his laptop and set it aside. He turned his attention to the bowl of soup that had been growing steadily colder by his elbow. He spooned up a bite and grimaced. Dean made a questioning noise in his throat.
“Clam chowder,” was all Sam said. Jess winced. Sam hated clams; he still ate his soup.
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Title: Darker & Wilder (pt.4)
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s): Jess, Dean, Sam
Pairing(s): Gen
Word Count: 4,763
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine. Like at all.
Summary: Jess is worried when Sam leaves in a hurry one Friday afternoon. The only thing he can offer her before he goes is a phone number and promise to be back by Sunday night. When he doesn't show up on time, Jess makes the call.
“Sam,” Jess said. She was watching as he shoved a spare set of clothes into his bag. The old thing looked stained and worn. He had dumped everything from his weekend trip out onto the foot of the bed and was repacking odds and ends that he’d decided they might need. Jess was hesitant to bring the topic up, but she felt like it was her job to be the responsible one here. “I know you want to be there, but are you sure that’s a good idea? You just had twenty three stitches in your side and a concussion. Maybe you should sit this one out.”
Sam shrugged. “It’ll be fine,” he said. He picked up the neat stack of clothes she’d pulled from her closet earlier. Sam had been adamant that she might want something clean when they were done. She was trying her hardest to defer to him in this until she got proof one way or another. Sam gave her a quick smile as he zipped the bag up. “Dean will do the digging. I’ll just be on shotgun duty. I’ve done harder in worse shape.”
That was far from a comforting thought. Somehow, every time one of the brothers tried to be reassuring, they let a little more slip about their past. Far from doing anything to calm her nerves, it usually just made her that much more anxious. At this point she was beginning to wonder how either of them had survived into adulthood.
Behind her in the doorway, Dean grunted. “He’s right. I could do this one in my sleep solo. Which is the only reason you’re coming along.”
Jess scowled at him. They had been nothing but adamant that she was only going because this was the easiest thing they had found. If the situation hadn’t been quite so serious, she’d have let both of them have it for their elitist crap.
“I think you just don’t want a girl to show you up.”
Dean burst into laughter. It caught her by surprise. It was the kind of laugh that was infectious. She glared at him. “Sweetheart, I don’t care what you’ve got between your legs. I care that you’re greener than new grass.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Sam and I - we’ve trained our whole lives for this job. You’ve had what, a Y class in karate? You got no clue how to handle yourself out there. So when I tell you this is the only thing you’re going on, I mean it.”
“Dean,” Sam barked. “Lay off. She’s not becoming a hunter so you can quit harassing her about it.”
Dean shrugged. “I’m good,” he said with a grin. “If you’re finished packing, let’s go. I want to roll out in five.”
Sam shouldered the bag and slung an arm around Jess. Together they headed downstairs and out towards where the car was parked on the street. The warm sun on her face felt nice after the days of worry and waiting. Sam’s comforting arm around her shoulders did a lot to settle her nerves and make things feel normal, even if she was about to try and see a ghost.
As a group they piled back into the Impala. Jess has expected Sam to climb into the back seat next to her, but he’d slid into the passenger seat without a thought. The grin on his face couldn’t have been brighter. She knew she wouldn’t begrudge him it for anything. For the first time in the entire time she’d know him, he was completely relaxed. Everything in him melted into the leather seat as he griped about Dean’s taste in music.
Jess couldn’t help the small smile that grew from watching him. She hadn’t gotten much more out of him after his revelation about growing up as a monster hunter, but even she could see that for Sam this was home. This was the same ease she had when she strolled into her parent’s house and curled up in her childhood bedroom, surrounded by all the things that reminded her of being a kid.
In the light of day, she realized the inside of the car looked well worn - not dilapidated or uncared for, but lived in and well used. Every single bit of the inside had been lovingly taken care of. She glanced over and spied a green army man wedged into the tray on the door. She reached over intending to pull it out and examine it, but found it stuck.
Sam’s voice was full of laughter when he said, “That’s been there since we were kids. Dean melted the base of it on accident. I thought Dad was going to tan our hides when he found it.”
“I didn’t do any such thing,” Dean said.
Sam snorted. “We had been learning how to start fires. He took a pair of Dad’s old reading glasses and was playing with them, only he melted the base accidentally.”
“Watch it, Sammy,” Dean warned. “You don’t keep your mouth shut, I might accidentally tell your girl about your streaker phase.”
“Dean!” Sam sounded every bit the annoyed baby brother. “I was like two!”
“You started it.”
“I was just explaining.”
“No, you were tattling.”
“I-“
“Boys!” Jess has to cut in. She would never be able to fathom how their father had ever put up with them, especially if they travelled by car as much as they claimed. She would have dumped them on the side of the road and told them to walk, and she’d only dealt with the two of them together for a few hours.
The two grown men shut their mouths and traded a look. Sam started to laugh. “Sorry.”
She couldn’t find it in herself to be mad, not when Sam never laughed that freely or smiled that broadly at home. The levity only lasted a hundred miles before both of them started to grow somber. Sam pulled his laptop out of his school bag and opened it up, pulling up something that looked like an obituary from where she was sitting.
“Alright,” Dean said. “We got about twenty minutes before we hit town. What’s the deal with this one?”
“Gary Sullivan,” Sam said, matter-of-factly. “Died three years ago through suspicious circumstances that were eventually ruled accidental. Fell off a cliff in a favored hiking spot and drowned in the reservoir below. Additional injuries suggested he’d been pushed, but that was discounted. Coroner claimed he could have just as easily hit the rocks on the way down. No way to conclusively prove foul play and no outstanding suspects with both motive and means.”
“So what’s he been up to?”
“Locals have claimed to have seen odd things happening around the reservoir. Lights, cold spots, localized wind. One solo hiker claims he was pushed. He caught himself on the lip before he could go over completely, but when he climbed back up there wasn’t any trace of anyone else. Two others have been injured. The official line so far has been that they were because the rock is starting to give way up there.”
“Why now?”
“Dunno. I haven’t found any suspicious disturbances in the area. His wife is remarrying, but she hasn’t reported any strange or violent activity. His former partner is taking over the law firm officially next month, but again nothing that would seem supernatural going on there.”
“I don’t like when we don’t have a motive,” Dean said. “Means it’s a wild card.”
Sam shrugged. “He’s buried in Lakeside Memorial Cemetery. It’s a good fifteen miles away from the lookout. Do you want to make the hike or go straight to the grave?”
“Think we should talk to the wife or the partner?”
“I doubt it. If he was haunting them, surely there’d have been some activity by now. It sounds like he’s been active for at least a few months. Besides, without some sort of motive, we have no idea how to spin it. Feds would seem suspicious. It wasn’t a national park. He had no extended family, which was widely known. And at over 3 years, insurance wouldn’t touch it with a ten foot pole.”
Jess frowned. She had been trying to absorb everything they were talking about, but that last comment concerned her. “Wait a minute,” she said, leaning forward in her seat. “Are you saying you regularly impersonate federal agents? Isn’t that a felony?”
Dean grinned over at Sam. “She’s cute.”
Sam just scowled at him. He turned to face her over the back of the seat. “Because monsters operate off the radar, so do hunters. There’s not a lot that’s legal about that line of work. If I told you all the ways we broke the law, we’d be here all day. But to be fair, I never actually impersonated anyone. I was still too young when I left. I was always the tag along intern. It meant I got left alone to do the grunt work a lot.”
“You do realize you’re about to partake in grave desecration, right? For a noble cause,” Dean rushed to assure her. “But I’ve got more than one charge of that on my record.”
Jess shook her head. This was sounding less and less like a good idea by the minute. It was all fine and good to see a ghost. It was decidedly less fine to go to jail for committing a felony.
“Let’s take the hike,” Dean said after a beat. “We’re going to have some time before we can get to work. Might as well poke around and see if we can tell what’s gotten him so spooked.”
Sam nodded. “Take exit 93 and make a left. It’s a straight shot through town to the nature center. Should be signs for it. We’re looking for Canyon Road.”
They didn’t talk anymore. Jess tried to stay quiet out of respect. It felt like mental preparation for a big test. She didn’t know if it was because they had her along, or because it had been so long for Sam. For all she knew it was always like this for them. When they parked in the small gravel lot beside the trailhead, the brothers climbed out in tandem and wordlessly went to the back of the car. Jess followed them, peaking over Dean’s broad shoulders to see that they had propped open a compartment that housed a wide variety of weaponry. She saw guns, knives, even a can of spray paint rolling around in addition to a huge arsenal of things she didn’t remotely recognize.
Sam frowned down into the trunk. He picked up a pistol, tucking it into the waistband of his jeans. Then he pulled out a short pipe. It was no longer than her forearm. He tested the heft of it, giving it a good swing through the air. Apparently satisfied, he turned to her and held it out. “For emergencies only,” he said. “It’s iron. Iron and salt repel spirits, but I don’t want you to go attacking. If for some reason it gets past me and Dean, then you swing hard. Aim for the head or the torso.”
Jess nodded. She had already gotten the lecture that she was to stay back and watch, not get involved. Between the two brothers there were two shotguns, a pistol, and a tire iron, and that’s just what she’d seen them pull from their makeshift armory. They were equipped to fight off an angry bear, in her unprofessional opinion. Still, the weight of the pipe was reassuring in her hand. Their warnings had wormed into her head. It was good to be prepared for whatever might be at the top of the trail. At least if it turned out Sam was crazy, she was armed now.
Dean handed them each a bottle of water and slammed the trunk closed. “Should be a short hike. Let’s go poke around.”
It was a short hike. It took them less than ten minutes to get to the top. Jess had to admit, the view was stunning. They were standing well back from the edge of a limestone bluff that dropped off and down into a clear blue reservoir. The surrounding area was lush and green. It was the kind of place Sam might have taken her to on a date. She wished she could pretend they had just come out here to be alone.
Sam and Dean split up, searching the area for anything that looked out of place. They never explained what exactly that might be, so Jess let them work. She heard them calling to one another when they didn’t find anything. She was still mostly convinced there wasn’t anything to find. Even if there had been a murder here, it had been years ago now. It’s not like there was going to be fresh blood splashed around on the rocks.
Jess pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders and wandered a little closer to the drop off, looking at the steep cliff. She felt a shiver run down her spine. At first she thought it was just the grisly thought of what had happened there, but then an icy hand grasped her arm. She tried to spin on her heel, but the grip was like steel and she felt herself being pushed towards the edge.
“Sam!”
Sam looked up and locked eyes with her. In seconds he was leaping towards her, grabbing her just in time to keep her from plummeting into the reservoir below. Her feet dangled under her, scrambling for purchase against the rocks. Above her, she heard a shot go off and flinched, but Sam held her tight. With a grin he hauled her up.
Dean was standing a few feet back, feet planted shoulder width apart. He had his gun drawn and was looking wildly around. “Get back!” He barked.
Sam grabbed her hand and dragged her away from the edge.
“Any theories, genius?” Dean’s tone had turned annoyed. Jess frowned at the change in his demeanor.
“How was I supposed to know,” Sam snapped back.
“It’s your research project.”
“All the signs pointed to Gary!”
Jess knew she had missed something. Sam and Dean had backed up, wedging her between them as they sniped at each other. Jess was on high alert, trying to see whatever had tried to push her over.
“Well unless he’s a very convincing cross dresser, it wasn’t him!”
“What’s wrong,” Jess demanded. She could still feel the quiver in her legs from the adrenaline rush and the boys’ antics weren’t helping her nerves.
She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Something stirred the air to her right and a figure appeared in front of them. A young woman, perhaps a year or two older than Jess stood barely three feet away. She was dressed in torn, bloody clothes. Her entire form was deathly white and semi-transparent.
Jess had to bite back the ludicrous impulse to laugh. Dean fired another round at her and she disappeared, only to reappear next to Sam. Jess couldn’t do anything but stare as the girl started to reach for his arm.
Sam snatched the iron bar from where it had fallen in her mad scramble earlier and swung it straight through the girl’s midsection, banishing her again.
“We’ve got to get down from here,” Sam yelped.
Dean was forced to shoot again when she appeared screaming next to him. “No shit. Any other obvious statements you’d like to add?”
Sam didn’t rise to the bait this time. He grabbed her hand without turning around. He squeezed it and said, “Get ready to run. Don’t stop until we’re back at the car.”
They were waiting for something, although what Jess couldn’t tell. When the ghost popped up again, this time reaching for Jess, Sam spun them, took another swipe, then pushed her back towards the path. “Now!”
She took off running. She could hear Sam’s steady pace behind her and Dean’s swears following them up. She started wheezing a few minutes in, then slowed. Sam, now beside her, didn’t even look winded as he kept pace. “Don’t stop!”
She grimaced, but pushed herself on. She nearly cried in relief when the sleek side of the Impala came into view. This time Sam dove into the back seat with her as Dean started pulling out of the lot, door still ajar.
“What the hell, dude?”
“I don’t know! The signs didn’t start until Gary’s death,” Sam said as he pulled her tight to him. “He must have been the first victim. The report did seem to think he’d been pushed.”
Dean took a steadying breath and slowed the car as he pulled onto the main road. “Right. So now what?”
Sam glanced at his watch. Jess studied him surreptitiously. He was looking a little rumpled from the fight, but otherwise didn’t seem bothered. He’d barely even broken a sweat.
“Library’s closed,” he said. “Let’s stop by the diner. I can probably get enough signal in there to do some digging. At least now we know why there didn’t seem to be a motive.”
“Whoopdy freaking doo.”
“Hey, don’t tell me you’re not ready for dinner. I know you better than that.”
“Yeah well, nearly getting thrown off a cliff works up an appetite.”
“She didn’t even touch you.”
“So,” Dean asked. “And you’re letting me check those stitches. Don’t think I didn’t see that dirt dive earlier.”
Sam winced, but he shook his head. “It’s fine. I didn’t bust a stitch.”
“Then you won’t mind letting me see.”
Sam sank back into the seat. “Fine, whatever.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re welcome.”
Meanwhile, Jess has been focusing on their banter as a way to distract herself. She was not entirely sure what she just saw, but she had been a handbreadth away from going into the reservoir herself. Suddenly Sam’s claims that supernatural monsters existed were a lot easier to believe.
Their little sniping match apparently over, Sam turned his attention to her. He pulled her tight against his side, letting her lay her head on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly. “How are you doing? Are you hurt at all?”
She shook her head. True she had been seconds away from disaster, but Sam has been there and kept her safe.
“I know the first time is always a little...terrifying, but it’s okay. It was just a ghost.”
Jess snorted into his shirt, perhaps a bit hysterically. “Just a ghost? That’s not comforting.”
Sam rubbed her arm. “I know, but Dean and I know what we’re doing. You’re safe now and when all this is over, we’ll have dealt with her and no one else will get hurt.”
“Just like riding a bike, eh Sammy?”
Sam just rolled his eyes. “It’s Sam. How many times?”
“What exactly is a ghost?”
Sam shrugged. “Restless spirit, unfinished business. Not all that different from your normal horror movie. Most of them died violent or particularly horrible deaths. They’re still tethered here by something. That’s why we salt and burn the remains.”
She shuddered. “No wonder you hate Halloween.”
In the front seat, Dean snorted. “Nope! He’s just weird. Sam’s always hated it. Even when we were kids. I’ve never known why.”
“Not now, Dean.” He looked down at her. “Do you want to head home? You don’t have to ride along for the rest of this. Dean and I can finish it up and meet you back at campus.”
She shook her head and sat up. “No, I want to see this through.”
They pulled into the Night’n’Day diner a few minutes later. The pink neon from the sign glowed almost garishly, casting the entire parking lot in a rosy glow. The boys ushered her in and settled them at a back booth away from the other patrons. Jess has always noticed Sam did that, always sat at the back of a restaurant and never put his back to the room. It was part of why she had always assumed he’d been abused as a child. Seeing their life, it made sense now. It was where she wanted to be, too. So she didn’t object to their booth selection or the fact that Sam sat beside her so that she was wedge against the wall on the short bench seat. She didn’t comment as she saw Dean sweep the area or his subtle check of their waitress disguised as lingering eyes when the woman walked up to their table a mere thirty seconds after they’d sat down.
The waitress was a short, blonde woman in her late thirties with a name badge that read Sally pinned a little lower than strictly necessary. “Welcome to the diner,” she said with a toothy grin. “What can I get for you?”
Dean turned his hundred watt smile on her. Without so much as glancing at the menu he said, “I’ll take a coke and a cheese burger, extra onions.”
Sam, who had been buried in his laptop, pulled his eyes away long enough to give the girl a short smile and order a house salad and whatever soup she would recommend.
Jess felt like the odd man out when the waitress turned to her. Sam and Dean had spit out orders like they’d been coming in for years. She hadn’t even had a chance to glance over a menu, but she could feel the weight of the waitress’s expectant gaze. Her cheeks warmed as she stuttered out a request for a soda and fries, figuring that would be a safe bet. She shrugged at Dean’s questioning look.
The waitress came and went while they sat in silence. Sam was engrossed in his research. He was clacking away at his keyboard. What little she could see from her spot beside him meant little to her. He was so involved, he barely noticed the food that was dropped next to his hand. Dean nudged her toe with his boot, then winked at her. His deft fingers rolled his discarded straw wrapper into a ball and flicked it to smack Sam square in the forehead.
Sam frowned. “I’m busy,” was all he said.
“Food, Sam. Eat it.”
Sam took a distracted bite of his salad then set his fork back down, engrossed in what appeared to be coroner's reports. Jess was steadfastly trying not to look at the gory pictures as she nibbled at her fries.
“Sam,” Dean said. There was just a hint of warning in his tone. Sam huffed, then picked up the salad and set it between his arms in front of his keyboard, proceeding to shove it in his mouth between scrolling.
Dean made an exasperated face then grinned when he saw she was watching him. “Does he do this to you too?”
Jess shrugged, surprised at the question. “I don’t allow books at the dinner table.”
Dean laughed. “Ooh, I like you. You know, there was this one time when Sam thought it was a good idea to walk and read at the -” Dean jumped. “Gah! When did you put on your steel toes? Damn that hurt.”
Sam smirked, but didn’t respond.
“Anyway,” Dean said with a grin. “We were staying on this little ranch just outside the city. Remember, this is Texas, so there were cows and horses everywhere. Sam had walked into town to get supplies. It was like ninety degrees out and I’d felt sorry for the shrimp when I found out Dad had sent him, so I decided I’d meet him halfway and pick him up. He had some big book report due that week or something, and he decided that the walk was a good time to catch up. About the time I spotted him, I hear some girl calling his name. Kid looks up, still walking, and plants his foot right into a giant pile of horse shit. Only ‘cause he was looking around, he slips and goes down. He had it smeared all the way up his back. Needless to say I didn’t let him in my car after that. Dad threatened to hose him off in the yard.”
She smiled at him, aware he was being charming on purpose. Still, if he wanted to trade embarrassing Sam stories, she had a handful. “Yeah well,” she said. “Did he tell you about the time he accidentally turned himself pink?”
Sam frowned, typing a little more forcefully, but he still didn’t bother to look up from his research. He just pouted. “Jess? Really? You’re supposed to be the mature one.”
She waved him off. “Where’s the fun in that,” she asked, turning back to Dean. “He was feeling a little sore after he went too hard at the gym one day so he decided he was going to take a bath. Only he found these bath fizzer things that my Aunt Sally had given me. They were about a million years old because they stained the tub the last time I used one. I came home and the house reeked like lilies. When I found him, he’d fallen asleep in the tub. Everything from his neck down was a brilliant, neon pink. It took a week to wear off.”
Across from her, Dean was gasping for air. “I hope you got pictures!”
“Of course I did.”
Sam just groaned. “I hate you both.”
Jess patted his shoulder, but it didn’t stop her from laughing at him. The last of the terror from their earlier excursion was wearing off as she remembered how Sam had tried to pass the whole thing off as a vicious sunburn. That had fooled exactly no one.
The atmosphere turned more solemn when Sam finally snapped up and said, “I think I found something. The girl’s name is Rebecca Peterson. She was an intern at the law firm Gary ran. She went missing four years ago around Christmas. No sign of break in or struggle at her apartment. It was assumed she ran off.”
“Well this just keeps getting better and better. So you think he killed her?”
Sam shrugged. “Probably. Looks like she had brought allegations against Gary for harassment. There’s no record of it going any farther than an HR report at work though.”
“So, where do we start,” Jess asked.
Sam stared at the page that was up, not really reading it. “I don’t know. She could be anywhere. Most likely is in the lake.”
“Do you have any good news?” Dean’s scowl had returned.
“At least she didn’t kill us?”
“Wait,” Jess said with a frown. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”
“Remember we said the easiest way to get rid of a ghost is through a salt and burn,” Sam explained. “With no idea where she’s buried, we’ve got no leads. If Gary really did kill her, he probably took that secret to his own grave. At worst, and most likely, he dumped the body in the reservoir to hide the evidence. It would make sense if she’s been trying to push others in. That means we don’t have access to the remains.”
“Then what do we do?”
Dean scowled. “First we try talking to her, see if she won’t go on her own or at least show us where she’s buried. Tonight, that’s all we can do. If that doesn’t work, we start investigating locally. We’ll look into any Jane Does that came up in the last four years and start interviewing family and coworkers.”
“How would they have not identified the body?”
“Pretty easy. If you’re not in the system and had no reason to be in the area, there wouldn’t be much to make an ID on. Or the remains could have been too compromised. Lots of reasons.”
Jess couldn’t help the frown that tightened her expression. They both sounded like experienced cops or something. She had a hard time fathoming how they had gotten so used to the death and horror of the situation that they could speak so baldly about it. It made her want to hunt down their father and give him a piece of her mind. They had been doing this since they were children for goodness sake.
Sam closed his laptop and set it aside. He turned his attention to the bowl of soup that had been growing steadily colder by his elbow. He spooned up a bite and grimaced. Dean made a questioning noise in his throat.
“Clam chowder,” was all Sam said. Jess winced. Sam hated clams; he still ate his soup.
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