A Very Supernatural Journey Chapter 3
A Birthday Story Written for Enkidu07, in appreciation for the work she and Onyx Moonbeam do and for the community they built
Co-written by Woman of Letters, mainegirlwrites, theymp and wynefred
Previous Chapter: [1] [2]
This chapter by wynefred
Chapter 3: Oil on the Water
The Impala coasted into the gas station parking lot, the engine dying on its own as Dean pulled to a stop beside a pump.
"Good girl." Dean patted the dashboard fondly before turning to Sam. "See, I told you she'd make it." His proud grin shined through the bruises coloring his right cheek and jawline. The last hunt had been difficult for them both, but Sam had gotten off lightly, with only scrapes and scratches from debris flung by the poltergeist. Dean, who had been tossed through the air like a rag doll, bore the brunt of the physical evidence of their encounter.
"Yeah, barely. If the gas station had been any further down the road, we'd be pushing her right now."
"You have no faith in my baby's abilities."
"Right. I'm gonna find the restroom and get supplies. You... feed your baby. She's hungry."
Dean grumbled incoherently and Sam grinned. The men exited the car together, Sam rising quickly and sprinting across the lot to the restrooms. Dean eased himself out more carefully, shouting at Sam's retreating back for his brother to bring him a coffee. Dean rubbed a hand across his bruised ribs before stepping to the back of the car.
Lifting the nozzle from its slot pulled on the tender chest muscles, bringing a grimace to his face. He flipped the lever to set the pump on automatic and rested against the trunk, waiting for the tank to fill. The station's door clanged open and Sam strolled out just as Dean set the nozzle back in its slot.
"You get my coffee?" Dean grouched across the hood of the car before carefully sliding back behind the wheel. His brother settled into the passenger seat seconds later.
"Of course. Found something else, too." Sam handed Dean a newspaper, folded to reveal the headline at the bottom of the page: Man Drowned While Fishing.
"Yeah? And?"
"And, read the article."
Dean scanned the article, his eyelids raising as he read. "Third and fourth degree chemical burns on his face?"
"Yeah. The environmentalists are up in arms about chemicals being dumped in the river, but authorities say there's no sign of chemical pollutants."
"How'd he get burned, then?"
"Don't know. The guy's buddy was standing next to him on the river's edge and turned away for a minute. When he turned back, the guy was thrashing in the middle of the lake. The buddy dove in, dragged the guy out, and called 911 when he saw the guy's face. He was dead before the paramedics got there."
"Awesome. Where're we talking?" Dean passed the paper back to Sam and put the car into gear, tires squealing as he pulled out of the lot.
"College town about 80 miles north of here."
"Great. We'll get there before dark, but too late to do anything tonight. I say we get some rest and interview the buddy in the morning."
"Sounds good."
X X X
"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, Mr. Turner." Sam began as he shook the other man's hand. Decked out in their FBI suits, the boys had been readily welcomed by the case's only witness.
"Rosco." The man corrected.
Dean chuckled. "Rosco? Like on Dukes of Hazzard?" Dean grinned broadly, undaunted by Sam's disapproving frown.
"Yep. Sheriff Rosco P. Coltrane... best dang character on all of TV." The man waved the brothers into his mismatched living room, gesturing for them to sit on the frayed couch.
"Totally. Did you see the one where Rosco..."
"The reason we came to see you today, Mr. Turner..." Sam interrupted. Dean appeared chagrined for a moment before schooling his face into something more professional.
"Was because'a how Earl died, isn't it?" Rosco picked nervously at the holes in the knees of his faded jeans.
Sam nodded solemnly. "It is. Now, you said that you weren't facing Mr. Brown and didn't see him enter the water?"
"Yep. That's true. I didn't see nuthing." Rosco paused, his gaze thoughtful. "We was fishing for trout at our best spot, but we weren't having much luck. The fish just weren't biting none. Then I turned to bait my line again... I had this new grub I wanted to try. One second Earl's standing right there next to me and the next he's splashing out there in the water. Good thing the current's not bad or I'da never got him outta there."
"What about when he was out in the water?" Dean questioned. "Did you see anything unusual."
Rosco shifted uncomfortably, avoiding their eyes.
Sam jumped in, compassion written on his face, "Mr. Turner... Rosco... you can tell us. What did you see?"
"It's crazy, but..." His eyes shifted between Sam and Dean as he weighed their sincerity. Satisfied, he nodded his decision and continued. "I thought I saw something in there with him, dragging him out further. When I shouted, it let him go and swam away... upstream."
"Did you see what it looked like?" Dean almost bounced out of his seat in his eagerness.
"Got a pretty good look. It was kinda human-shaped, with arms and a head like a man, but its skin seemed sorta leathery, like a lizard. And it had real sharp teeth. It flashed'em at me before it let Earl go." Rosco stood, extending a hand to each man, his eyes searching both brothers' faces. "You boys believe me, don'tcha." It was a statement rather than a question.
The brothers rose and shook his hand, responding simultaneously, "Yes, sir, we do."
"Good boys." Rosco escorted them to the door.
"One more thing, Mr... Rosco," Sam began as he stepped over the threshold. "Exactly where was that favorite fishing spot you mentioned?"
X X X
After changing back into their casual clothes, the boys headed out to Rosco's fishing spot. Thanks to the fisherman's excellent directions, finding the location was relatively easy. The yellow caution tape roping the area confirmed that they were in the right spot.
A quick search of the area revealed nothing interesting.
"Friggin' police tracked up the area so much, we'll be lucky to find anything!" Dean groused. His ribs were still bothering him, and the trek out here to the middle of nowhere didn't help his mood any.
"They're just doing their job, Dean." Sam reasoned.
"Yeah, well, this one's not their job, so I wish they'd just stay out of our way."
"Wait... what's this?" Sam bent to get a closer view of the water lapping the grassy shore. He reached his hand into the water, scooping up a handful of the liquid before letting it run from his fingers, then displayed his hand to Dean.
"Pretty oily for water containing no pollutants." Dean commented. He pulled a vial out of his bag and passed it to Sam.
"Yeah." Sam filled the vial, capped it, and gave it back to Dean, who placed it back in his bag.
"Well, Sammy, it looks like we've got some research to do."
Sam nodded while wiping his greasy hand on the grass, trying unsuccessfully to remove some of the residue, before giving up and sullenly rubbing the slick substance on his jeans. Dean grinned, giving his brother's back an encouraging swat before making his way down the path toward the car.
X X X
Hours trapped in a musty library yielded very little helpful information. Tired and grumpy after their long day, the boys stopped at a local diner for some food before heading back to the motel. Dean's plans for the night included a long, hot shower, a couple of aspirin, and bed. In that order. Sam intended to research on his laptop for a few hours before turning in.
They waited at the diner's counter for their take-out order, casually watching the news program on the TV in the corner. The newscaster prattled on about the local high school cafeteria-food improvement program, then moved on to the story of a beloved tree being demolished to make way for a new through-street.
A special news bulletin interrupted the droning newscast, the screen abruptly changing to an image of a reporter on location at a local university. An agitated female witness ranted about the wrong person drowning in the university pool. The brothers exchanged meaningful looks while watching the story unfold. The waitress set the styrofoam boxes of food next to the boys, who paid for their meals and headed to the car. Their plans for the night had just changed.
Dean fished in his pocket for the car keys, also checking to make sure he'd brought his lock pick set, while Sam searched for directions to the university on his cell phone.
They had work to do.
X X X
The next morning, dressed again in their FBI suits, the brothers drove onto the campus. Their nightly excursion into the Rec Center had revealed the same oily substance in the pool's water. The boys were back today with the vial samples from each location, hoping to interview witnesses and gather more information.
They walked toward the campus offices, intending to start their day interviewing the university's staff and making their presence known on campus. Before they reached the offices, a large number of students running down the street, talking and yelling agitatedly to each other, caught the brothers' attention.
Dean stopped a group of students running past them. "Hey, what's going on?"
A gangly dude with long hair and glasses answered him hurriedly as the rest of his group ran on. "Somebody's dead! Over in Blair Hall!" The kid ran on, anxious to join his friends in watching the excitement.
Sam and Dean took off in the same direction.
From out of nowhere, a young woman plowed into Dean, bouncing off him and landing on the ground with a grunt. Dean's ribs twinged painfully from the impact. The young woman remained sitting, babbling her apologies, her face reflecting terror.
Dean reached a hand to help her up, ignoring the pain in his ribs.
"That's okay," he said, offering her his most soothing smile. "I'm Agent Brody, and this," he gestured to Sam, "is Agent Hooper."
"Could you direct us to Blair Hall, please."
The young lady blinked for a moment as though she wasn't really processing his words. Dean realized he was still holding her hand and tried to let go, but she clasped his hand in a death grip. She was kind of cute. Dean would totally hit on her if she hadn't been regarding him with panic-filled eyes.
"Are you alright, Miss?" He tried.
"I just saw..." The girl stopped, seeming to see Dean for the first time. "You're... you're" she sputtered, then took a deep breath before continuing in a much more level voice, "You're Jensen and Jared."
"Who?" Dean glanced over at Sam, who shrugged.
"Jensen and Jared. You know, from Supernatural."
"You've got the wrong guys. We're with the FBI, investigating a drowning that occurred here last night."
"Wait, Dean... Agent Brody... I think she's the witness from the news last night." Sam interjected.
"Dean? You're Dean?" the girl's face turned hopeful and a bit confused. "Dean Winchester?" At Dean's closed expression, she turned to Sam. "And you're Sam? The Dean and Sam?"
The brothers looked at each other, unsure how to respond. Sam spoke, each word low and cautious, "How do you know our names?"
"I can't believe you're really you! It's impossible. But..." She burst into tears and threw herself into Dean's arms. "I'm so glad you're here!"
Dean patted her back awkwardly, sharing a perplexed glance, a silent communication, with his brother: This girl must be nuts!
Read Chapter 4: Testing the Waters