A/N: So this is my first Supernatural fic. I'm a huge fan of the series so I've always been skeptical of writing a fanfic because you just shouldn't do the Winchester Brothers bad. The series is one of the best on tv nowadays. So I hope those of you who read enjoy. I have a whole bunch of other pieces going on at one time so I have to work around a updating schedule. I usually have a music playlist link posted on my author's page so once I get that up I'll let y'all know.

The Vesper Theory

Chapter 1

"Fate is a Bitch"

"So this is supposed to be the castle of gloom and doom, huh?" Dean Winchester shot a condescending glare over in his brother's direction.

"Well-huh- not exactly. I'm only following a lead that I got from Craig." His breaths came out in short, distracted bursts. "So as a favor to him and in passing through, we're just looking in. So we're only supposed to be checking," he returned an equally charged glare.

They both slid from the vehicle. "I don't want you going in there half cocked," Sam muttered.

Dean gave an incredulous stare that was certainly too comical, "Look Sammy, I got this. When have I ever not got this?"

*

GRACE HAVEN

Business wasn't exactly what I would call thriving, but we made due. These were extremely slow days. There was the frequent wide-eyed local merely "browsing" along with an empty-pocketed, seldom tourist. So you could imagine how lucrative things were. This wasn't exactly a backwater town; it was more so one that lay dormant, quite forgetting what the throes of life once were. This was where the forlorn came to rebuild, the aged prepared to die, and the nostalgic ones came to raise their children.

Me, I struggled to find myself amongst this, the morass of uncertainty. I struggled to find a niche within the nothingness, one where it did not entail me becoming a part of this nothingness. I could almost feel the invisible tendrils of the small town world wanting to take me, spread me about into a state of equilibrium. I didn't want a child and I had no significant urge to relinquish any fight to death, nor was I ever nostalgic. The only home was the one where my feet could walk to and there certainly was never any kind of preference in that selection. Having a home would insinuate that I had a family and that surely was far from the truth.

What I did simply was take the provisions of the soil and do what came as natural as existing, nurture and turn them out to the sulking mass of the town. As a result an earthen breath always surrounded this place. Tinctures, tendrils, pumices, poultices, syrups, lotions, sugary sweets, etc. were things I surrounded myself with and in turn they were my companions and comfort. This place, it smelt of decadence, longing, the spicy woodsy earth, and life itself.

This morning my coffee said the wind would take with it trouble. Like any other morning this morning's brew percolated as I padded about the kitchen in a terry cloth robe and melancholy-painted toenails. The warm cup seeped some kind of appeasement into my tried soul. Then two drops. Two scarlet plops sent a series of ripples through the dark liquid. My mind called to attention the distinct burning sensation in my left nostril, like a deep intake of chlorine-filled pool water. My body was almost completely off its dexterity but I quickly reclaimed myself, along with the cup intact and in hand then wiped away the thin smear of blood with the back of the other hand, the red an explicit contrast to my brown skin. The first drop turned the fluid to deep emerald then the next sent the eddy into a deep black to red then back to black again.

That feeling of dread accompanied me throughout the day. And I busied myself looking for another omen of ill fortune to grace this town. Fear was not a thing that I was accustomed to it had never wandered in and stole beneath the skin. It wasn't a fear for my own self but where this casted stone would land and how far away my own would be from the ensuing ripples. With years of perception my body remained vigilant as my mind multitasked and plotted through the day paying ever care to any minuscule of changes. My mouth went dry and my body felt taut, a vacation was never on the horizon.

There was a light jingle over the doorway. Customer. I almost zombie salivated at the prospective that slithered in as I played over my well greased sales pitch, and in anticipation ran my palms across the thin material covering my abdomen. Two men walked through the entrance and I went straight into salesperson mode as they headed in my direction. Instantly my face fell and instinctively my body hardened with that kind of knowing. All I was capable of perceiving was that I knew deceit when I looked it in the face. Quite automatically the beaded bracelet about my wrist was wrapped about my slender fingers like any devout would reach for their rosary. I moistened my lips and waited for their heavy frames to walk silently across the wooden floor.

Both men were distinctly good-looking, but I was always wary of a good face, and apparently close in age. They were both tall in stature, the tallest having thick shaggy hair with simple clothing... blue denim, dark boots, plaid shirt, dark jacket. Handsome. The shorter one of more stocky build, from what I took in of his stride, he was in charge or at least considered himself to be just that. Low-cut hair, simple clothing as well, a grey t-shirt layered with a red shirt and navy blue jacket. I could tell this bitch was one cocky bastard.

Caught off guard I fought to regain composure to channel my most "warm" smile and the same standard, worn-out greeting. "Welcome to Grace Haven, what may I help find for the hearth and soul?"

That was returned with the shorter one extending his hand with a smile which crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Hello, I'm Rueben Walsh," then he made a slight motion to the one who had taken the back seat, "and this is Jackie Tenenbaum." His hand engulfed mine. I worked quickly to shake the other hand. "We're both pri-"

I suppose Jackie had decided that he was the less offensive one in that moment and surreptitiously delved in and took over the direction of the conversation. "We're freelance journalists," he cleared his throat "down from Missouri and kinda lost, I think." He gave a small adorable, dimpled chuckle that stunk of charisma.

I was always right when it came to certain things, especially a smiling face. His hand snaked through his hair and I could feel the unease that rolled off of him as he quickly glanced about in an afterthought, as if to check if we were alone. Jackie, yes that was his name, was very uncomfortable as rightly those who were who came in with their burdens.

What came from him was definitely muddled and cloaked. "Ahh, yeah. We're both working on a tsk travel book and we've found ourselves passing through… trying to find out of the way- way off the interstate businesses like this one."

Through my peripheral vision I could make out the other walking about the interior of the room. I wanted to keep both of them in sight at all times. "So what do you need, an interview of some kind? Samples?"

The unnerve plaguing Jackie's face seemed to evaporate. "Uhm sure, are you the only one on shift?" He peered past the counter over my shoulder trying to catch a glimpse through the open door at the back.

"No, not exactly. It's been a very serene day so you can imagine how slow it can be on a day as this one. You'll probably see a few of the staff coming in and out of here." Slowly I moved from behind the counter and stepped between them. "Jackie? Right?" I wiped the excess moisture from my palms on the apron then quite congenially I thrust a hand towards him. "I'm Idris."

"Yeah, it's Jackie. Nice to meet you."

I reached behind Jackie to greet the other one, Rueben.

"Yeah me too," Rueben replied. He chose to hold onto my hand for a few seconds too long, playing off his masculinity, his fingertips caressing gently as his hand withdrew from mine. There was a large grin on his face.

Be careful. There was that little voice in the back of my mind. "I could start off by maybe a short tour of our establishment. If you don't mind I'll finish up a little while I attend to a few shipment items."

"Ah, sure thing." Jackie looked over to Rueben and in unison shrugged shoulders.

I fought back the thick lump forming in my throat. There I eased into detail of the business. "Actually, I'm co-founder of Grace Haven. My partner and -"

"Do you guys still use this for a house or something?" Rueben. His hands were thrust into his pockets and he had utter impatience etched into his body. I paused momentarily. Jackie looked from Rueben then to me again.

Yet again Jackie chimed in, "We kinda have a knack for old houses." Rueben furrowed his eyebrows and mouthed knack, as though there was some kind of doubt of existence of the word.

"Oh okay, well I suppose I can start off from that then. Well I believe the home was originally constructed in 1884, most of the wood is actually from the original Victorian structure. The rest that couldn't be salvaged as building material was used as furniture and the sorts." I moved towards the wall closest to me to rest my hand against the dark wood. "Shouldn't you be writing this down?" I could feel my face light up with a radiance I did what I did best.

"Yeah, sure sure." Rueben patted at this coat pockets to procure a neatly folded pad and a pen to hand it to Jackie. "Do you know much of the history or maybe the previous owner?

My brows furrowed at the off base question. I cleared my throat then proceeded, "I'm not that sure of the history in depth but I do know it changed hands a few times, at least four families for the past three or four decades until finally my partner obtained it through an acquisition in 2000 I believe." Somehow along the way I realized how attached I was to the place, the three story Victorian was more than enough for one person. "Here, the front parlor, we utilize it as the heart of our business." The room managed to be packed but allowed a kind of warmth to it. "As you can see we specialize in herbs. Here we are religion blind, we appeal to the spiritual nature I suppose then; we aren't averse to that of the occult. We are more so interested in the healing and protective properties of all arts. Much of what we do is based upon that."

"Oh really? Yes, I see that." His eyes tore into every part of the room. Almost instantaneously they seemed to take up the room. I couldn't miss the light switch that flipped on. They listened a little more intuitively, their breaths sharpening as mine escaped.

The parlor was packed with a wide array and beautiful spectrum of colors, herbs hanging in scenic arrangements reminiscence of a primal Earth. There were powders, pouches, vials and bottles. Herbs were the spirit of our livelihood, everything we created came solely from them. Herbs of every kind angelica, bay leaves, basil, anise, fenugreek… "Calendula, Black Elder, Mint, Devil's Shoestring, Wormwood, Mandrake Root, Agrimony; you name it we might carry it. We are an ideal supplier." I recalled something then went behind the counter speaking nonstop. "We have potions encouraging sensuality and fertility statutes, written charms – spells for the mantel, stone charms – here's our business card, the website is on the bottom, we receive most of our profit by online purchase. Anyway, where was I oh yes," I ran my tongue over my dry lips. "Amulets, talismans, magic oils for hoodoo, conjure, ritual, anointing, etcetera. We have an extensive list."

"Charms? What kind of charms." It was Rueben's turn to be interested.

"Yes, if you go on our website we have a list of what we carry. Even here we have them placed about the house. Mostly protection based spells and charms."

"Do you mind if we take pictures?" Jackie already had his cell phone whipped out and poised to start snapping at the charms he had already identified.

"You're familiar?" I looked at each man stupidly. "Well another specialty, at least my specialty is with edible flowers, the usual in bakery, wines, vinegar and syrups." I tapped the glass at the side of the counter. "Here I have honeysuckle wine, custard cups, Angelica candy-"

"Ah no thanks," Jackie put away his phone.

Rueben audibly dragged his feet about the room, looking, touching. He used the tip of his finger to tip over a pot beside a batch of Bladderwrack. His hand slipped inside.

"Uhm, that's bison penis." He dropped the item like hot coal, further going to frantically dust the powder from his fingers.

"That's so not cool." A heated look was directed to Jackie's grinning face.

Rueben managed to compose himself then turned to me, "We've heard some things while in town. You know small talk."

"About what in particular?" My curiousity unfolded tenfold.

Jackie cut in, "There's been some disappearances around here, children in particular. A lot of the folks we've spoken to seem to believe there's something going on that has a lot of people high strung." He hesitated for a second. "Have you ever noticed anything out of the ordinary, strange figures, anything strange, even drifters maybe?"

"We've got nothing but talk in Swain, Nebraska. I wouldn't worry about that Jackie. This is a relatively secure community."

"Seventeen disappearances in almost five years is a pretty large number."

"I'm sorry but I don't think I'll be able to help you with that. I've only lived here a short while, if you need to look into that then the authorities here will be more than gracious to rally around any kind of inquiries. Sorry for being so abrupt but we're closing early. You could come back tomorrow though."

I was almost relieved to have seen that was all it took to get rid of them. Rueben once again gave me a look over then grabbed a custard cup and popped it in his mouth. He savored it the swallowed hard. "Hey that's good." He picked up another. Jackie gave a small nod then they both retreated. The weary darkness clouding the space went out with them as well.

I lifted a slit in the blinds and watched as they walked out. They were in a deep conversation that I was unable to catch a hold of. Jackie and Rueben sat in their black Impala and idled there for a time. I was drawn into deep thought and allowed all the sinews of my mind to stretch out and perceive what I might've been blind to. "They're gone, Celeste. From now on we need to be especially careful until we figure out what they're here for." I turned to the woman with aged skin and eyes, and wiry silvery grey hair.

**