Chapter One
"So, where to now?" Sam Winchester inquired, running a hand through his long brown hair and staring at the map in his lap. His brother Dean shifted in the driver's seat before answering. "Cape Girardeau, Missouri," he replied, not taking his eyes off the road and continued driving too fast down the highway. "An old friend called. Her name is Cassie, and she says that some of the local people are dead- two cases so far, both seem to have been run off the road. The weird part is, there was only one set of tire tracks. Before they died, both guys had suspicions of being followed by a black truck that seemed to appear and disappear out of nowhere. Could just be some ordinary nut-job, but Cassie doesn't seem to think so, and wants us to- What the hell was that?" Dean cut off suddenly, slamming on the brakes and maneuvering to the side of the road.
"What're you doing? Why are we stopping?" Sam asked, but Dean just ignored him and climbed out of the black '67 Impala. Sam opened his door and scrambled out, jogging to keep up with Dean as he headed back down the road a ways. "I know I saw something," Dean muttered to himself. "It was right around... here." He stopped so abruptly that a very startled Sam ran into his back.
"Warn me next time, would you?" Sam warned, peering around Dean to see what he was so interested in. He let out his breath in surprise. There was a girl on the ground, face down in the mud. Dean knelt down and pressed two fingers to the girl's neck, feeling for a pulse. "She's alive, just unconscious," murmured Dean, puzzled. "How did she end up here?" He reached out to roll her onto her back and brushed the curtain of dark tangled hair from her face, unable to keep from staring. Her face was speckled with cuts and a few minor bruises, but despite the damage she was still a very beautiful girl. Freckles were dusted across her petite nose. Dark, spidery lashes rested on her delicate cheekbones. His gaze traveled down, admiring her substantial curves, before he spotted a deep gash on her thigh above her knees. Her jeans were torn, and the cut was deep enough to need stitches. "Sammy, we've got to get her out of here. She was probably attacked, and whatever did this to her might come back to finish the job. She needs medical attention on that leg, before infection sets in."
Sam shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable. "You can't just pick up strange girls off the side of the highway! What if she's dangerous?" he said indignantly. Dean gave him a look. "Look at her, Sam. Do you really think this chick is dangerous? Besides, she needs help, and I won't just leave her here. I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress, and maybe later she'll feel like she has to thank her hero," he added with a wink and a grin.
Dean's teasing only made Sam more upset. "You're crazy," Sam said tersely. "Hasn't this job taught you anything? You can't trust anyone, especially some random girl-" BOOOOOOM!Sam's ranting was drowned out by an enormous rumble of thunder overhead. The boys looked up to see a mass of angry dark clouds were churning up the blackened night sky. Fat raindrops began to fall quickly, splashing down on their heads. The wind picked up, howling and screeching, adding to the cacophony of thunder claps.
"Sammy!" Dean yelled. "We don't know much about this girl, but I'll be damned if I'm going to just leave her here like this to rot. Let's go, give me a hand here!" Reluctantly, Sam trotted over to help Dean lift the girl's limp form off the muddy ground. Once he was sure that Dean had a good grip on her, he sprinted back to the car to retrieve a blanket from the trunk. They wrapped the girl in the blanket before laying her carefully in the Impala's backseat. They returned to their own seats, shaking in their damp clothing. Sam turned the heat on full blast and settled in, trying to shake the feeling nagging at the back of his mind.
"Finally, there's a motel up ahead," Sam pointed out, sighing in relief. They had been driving for a good forty-five minutes, and the presence of the girl in the backseat had made him increasingly uneasy the entire time. Dean swung into the small parking lot, and Sam was jumping out of the car before it was even parked. "I'll go check in," he said quickly, turning and rushing for the lobby building. "Sure, take the easy job," chuckled Dean, shaking his head. "Okay, let's get you inside and patch you up," he said to the girl, who was still knocked out. Gingerly, he lifted her out of the car and carried her after his brother.
"Mmphf... What- what the hell? Where am I?" asked a very disgruntled girl, trying to sit up in the unfamiliar bed. She felt a sharp pain in her left leg, and glanced down to see a total stranger leaning over her with a needle, stitching up a large cut that seemed to be the source of her pain. "It's alive!" the man joked, cracking a smile. The girl stared at him with wide blue eyes narrowed. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded, resisting the urge to leap away since he was pulling a needle through her skin.
"That's no tone to use on someone that just saved your ass from possible death, now, is it?" he chuckled. At the friendly, benign way he spoke, the girl visibly relaxed. He pulled the needle through one last time, tied a knot, and cut the string, then sat back and regarded her with hazel-green eyes. "My name is Dean Winchester. My brother Sam and I found you half dead on the side of the highway in a nasty storm, and figured you could use a little help. Your turn," he said, amused by her bewilderment.
"Um, Terra Baryshnikov," she replied, but then fell silent. "Russian, huh?" Dean commented, nodding thoughtfully. Score, a Russian babe! "Okay, but what happened to you? Do you have any idea how you ended up where we found you?" He prompted, watching her intently. "I... I'm sorry, but I can't really remember anything," she told him, casting her eyes downward.
Before Dean could respond, the door to the room opened and Sam stepped in with two cups of Starbucks coffee. He handed one to his brother, warily eyeing Terra. "Sorry, didn't realize you'd be awake. Only got two," he grumbled, turning away from her curious gaze. "You must be Sam. I'm Terra," she offered to his back. "Nice to meet you," Sam grunted, not looking at her. He turned back to Dean instead. "I'm going out, into town. Talk to the locals and stuff. Going to see what I can dig up about the... situation," he informed him, and then he turned and left again.
"Well then. Isn't he a charmer?" Terra scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sorry about that," Dean said shamefully. "I'm not sure what's gotten into him. He just has trust issues, I suppose. He just has to get to know you. Sam isn't really big on strangers." Terra was still sulking at the way she'd just been snubbed, so Dean added, "Why don't we go out and grab some breakfast? You've been out for over 6 hours, I'm sure you've got to be starving." Her eyes lit up and she nodded. "Food definitely sounds good to me!" she said enthusiastically. I think I'm going to like this chick, Dean thought to himself, and laughed.
"You sure know how to treat a girl," Terra said with a smile, gesturing to the big stack of blueberry pancakes in front of her. Dean laughed around a mouthful of food, waving his syrupy fork at her. "Breakfast of champions," he said with mock seriousness. She giggled, but then sobered up and grew solemn.
"So you really just found me in the middle of nowhere on the shoulder of the highway?" she asked. Dean hesitated, taking time to chew and swallow the enormous bite of pancake he had stuffed in his mouth. "Yeah. You really have no idea how you got there?" Terra leaned back in the vinyl booth, shaking her head slowly. "No," she said softly, "I can't remember a thing, and it scares the hell out of me. I guess I hit my head or something. I'm trying pretty hard not to freak out." Dean reached across the table and placed a sympathetic hand on her wrist, noting the leather cuff bracelet she was wearing. He decided now was not the time to ask about it. Poor girl, he thought. She's got to be about twenty four, she should be worried about college exams or something... not how or why she ended up injured and stranded far from help. He hated to think what might have happened to her if he hadn't found her when he did.
"Wait, I remember something!" Terra exclaimed. "It's all a little fuzzy, but I remember driving my motorcycle down that highway. It was pretty deserted. Still can't remember where I was heading though. Anyway, I was riding down the almost empty highway, when this black truck just seemed to... appear behind me. I know that sounds a bit crazy. I think it ran me off the road though," she recalled. She felt Dean's hand tense over hers just before he pulled it back. Glancing up at him, she noticed that his fists were clenched and his jaw was tight. "Hey, are you alright?" she asked with concern.
"I'm fine," Dean said curtly, pulling out his wallet. "We should go." He slapped a few bills on the table and stood. Before he could head for the door of the diner, Terra moved to block his path. "Do you mind telling me what your problem is? You were fine just a second ago. Did I say something to piss you off?" she asked angrily. "I just need to talk to Sam about something," he replied shortly, brushing her off. He stepped around her and stormed out the door. "You coming?" he barked over his shoulder. "Yeah. Don't get your damn panties in a bunch, I'm right behind you," she snapped. He didn't respond, just got into his car and slammed the door. Ouch, she thought, following suit. What's his deal? She squirmed anxiously in the passenger seat, his negative energy swarming around the both of them. Eventually she resorted to staring out her window and twisting the leather cuff on her wrist, a nervous habit.
Dean pulled out his phone and flipped it open, oblivious to Terra's sulking. "Sam, problem. Something came up. Need to talk. Get your ass back to the motel as soon as you get this," he barked into the phone, then closed it with force and dropped it on the seat. "Bastard didn't answer," he growled, mostly to himself. He threw the car into gear and headed back for the motel, hoping Sam would get the message and meet him there.
"Why can't I be a part of this conversation? I have a right to know what's going on!" Terra cried indignantly. Sam shook his head, shaggy hair flopping. "Look," he said impatiently, "It's nothing personal, but this is private. It's family stuff." He sighed, looking to his brother for help. "Sammy's right," Dean clarified. "Just stay in the room, and we'll be back in a minute." The boys turned and walked out of the room, into the hallway. Terra's blood was boiling. How DARE they treat her like that? I'm not a child, they can't just pat me on the head and expect me to follow their orders. I'll show them!
With jaw set and shoulders squared, Terra marched to the door. I don't give a damn if they're cute or not, I'll still kick their asses if need be, she thought. She opened the door and creeped out, detecting strains of conversation from down the hall around the corner and following the voices. Tip-toeing over and peering around the corner, she saw the two brothers in the middle of a very heated conversation... about her?
"We don't need her hanging around like this, Dean! She's taking your focus away from the job, you need to be concentrating on helping me figure out what this thing is, and how to get rid of it."
"She's a victim in this too, Sammy! Whatever it is, this thing has marked her as a target, meaning it's our duty to make sure she's safe. We can't just dump her off by herself while it's after her!"
"We shouldn't have to babysit, that's not part of the job description. I still don't trust her either. It's a really bad idea to have her this close to our case, you need to step back. You're starting to seem like you might like her or something, and you know you can't get attached. You know how that always ends."
Terra smirked. She'd heard enough of their childish bickering. She cleared her throat and stepped around the corner into the boys' line of sight. "I can take care of myself you know. I'm not some freaking damsel in distress," she asserted. Dean flinched at hearing his own words. He had called her a damsel in distress, after all. Her eyes flashed, and her anger mounted. "You seem to have the impression of some helpless little girl. Better think again. I have no need for a night in shining armor, Dean. I don't need to be rescued. In fact, I'm probably better off on my own than I am with you two crazy sons of bitches. I'm leaving."
"Terra, wait," Dean called. "I didn't mean it like that. You don't know everything that's going on right now." She spun on her heel and got right in his face, feeling her cheeks flush with rage. "That's part of the problem! I don't know, because you won't tell me anything! I saw that box of fake IDs in your car. You have over a dozen fake cards and badges, and you're somehow tied in with the truck that tried to kill me. There's obviously something weird going on here, and you'd better come clean!" she hissed. Dean was silent for a long moment after her outburst. Terra threw her hands up, exasperated. "Fine! You don't want to let me in on whatever this is, fine. You want to be a secretive dick, go ahead, but I'm not sticking around if all you're going to do is sneak around while you pull the damn wool over my eyes!" She cast a scathing glance at Sam. "Besides, it's been made very clear that I'm not wanted here," she seethed.
Dean sighed. "Where are you going to go?" Terra snapped her attention back to him. "Not that it's any of your business, but I figure I'll hitchhike back to the highway, see if I can find my Harley, and go from there. Goodbye douche-bags." With that, she rounded the corner out of sight. Sam caught Dean's arm before he could follow her. "Dude, just let her go," he urged. Dean glared at Sam and jerked his arm out of his grip, jogging off in the direction that Terra had disappeared.
Dean found Terra on the side of the road outside the motel with her hands thrust deep in the pockets of her windbreaker. He approached her carefully for fear of scaring her off or causing her to flip out again. "Terra," he said softly. She didn't turn or acknowledge him at all. Instead, she jutted her thumb out toward the street, trying to signal for a ride. He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, which she promptly shook off. He hesitated, wavering.
"Terra." Dean said again, more firmly this time. Grudgingly, her eyes flickered up to his face. Ugh, why is this guy she gorgeous? How am I supposed to stay pissed off at someone with a face like that? Terra thought, mentally kicking herself. Yeah, he's pretty damn attractive. But so what? It shouldn't be hard for me to just walk away. I can't stay with these boys, I can't get close to either of them. Not that Sam would ever want me to. Me getting close wouldn't end well for any of us. I've got to get out of here.
"Let me at least take you to find your motorcycle. Please?" Dean asked, bringing her out of her own thoughts. She faltered. "I- I don't think that's a good idea."
"You think that going with a total stranger is a better idea?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Dean, as far as I'm concerned, you are a total stranger," she laughed humorlessly. "All I know about you is your name and the car you drive, which I can find out from anyone who picks me up off the street."
"Okay, touche." Dean scratched the back of his head. "Come on, just let me drive you. We can talk on the way," he offered. "Fine." Terra conceded. She strolled over to the shiny Impala, running an appreciative hand across the hood. She looked over her shoulder at Dean and threw him a sly grin. "On one condition," she added, her voice taking on a flirty tone. Dean's expression morphed into one of suspicion. "What condition?" he asked warily. "I'm driving," she said, laughing evilly. He groaned. "But I barely even let Sam drive my baby..."