Disclaimer : SPN and OTH belong to their respective owners. No profit made. You know the drill.
Summary : a regular hunt in a new town, Tree Hill. Or rather my lame attempt at writing one.
Author's Notes : This story was written for coloradospace's birthday, who wanted some SPN/OTH. It's very short because I had no time at all (hence the form I chose to tell the story), and I hate writing something without doing any research for it. I don't watch OTH (got the infos from a friend), coloradospace doesn't either, but she wanted some kind of interaction between some of the characters. And I'm well aware of the fact that what they write in the journal is strickly facts, explanations about creatures, rituals and all. It's not some kind of diary. I tried to stay away from that as much as I could, but without actual information about the spirit, it was kinda hard. Like I said, no time. I'm leaving now and going back to my original writings. I'm much more comfortable with that. Oh, and thanks to Steph as always for proofing this story.
Whatever it takes
By Milmiss
Sitting on the edge of his bed, Dean reached for the coffee his brother was handing him and looked at him, a mixture of annoyance and concern in his eyes.
"Been up long?" Dean asked almost casually, after taking a sip.
Dean had always been a light sleeper; it was a lot safer in this job. Sure he had heard Sam getting up, a little earlier this morning, but as soon as he had realized that the sounds in the room weren't to be considered as threats, he had instantly gone back to sleep, not bothering to check the time.
Sam shrugged. "Couple of hours, I guess."
And he was already ready to leave, Dean realized, seeing that his bags were zipped and lying next to the door of the hotel room they had been sharing this past week. They still had some time before the check-out, time that Dean had planned to make the most out of, unlike his brother. He had probably slept twice as much as Sam, having woken up only fifteen minutes ago. He was still clad in his T-shirt and boxers while his brother was fully dressed and had had time to head outside and come back with some breakfast.
"Gonna go hit the shower," Dean said as he finished his coffee. "I hope you left me some hot water." He threw the cup in the air, and it landed in the trash. He got up, grinning at his brother, who rolled his eyes in exasperation.
When the door of the bathroom closed, Sam went to retrieve their Dad's journal out of one of his bags. He then sat on his bed and opened it, proceeding to write about the supernatural creature they had come across during the week.
Tree Hill, North Carolina
On March, 18th Dean and I found a few articles online about a couple of mysterious deaths in Tree Hill, North Carolina. The articles were linking to the website of the high school where everything had taken place, giving all the details of the case. Two high school girls, Bevin Mirskey and Peyton Sawyer, both cheerleaders, were found in the locker room, two weeks apart from each other, looking like they had died from a heart attack. A weird cause of death, considering the fact that those girls were teenagers in very good physical shape. Not to mention that classmates of the victims had heard them both talk about what they had assumed were stupid things, like ghosts and apparitions. So we drove to the town and spent the first couple of days investigating, like always.
Sam resisted the urge to write down how things had really happened.
Dean had literally fled from the library as soon as he had put down an impressive amount of books on the table. His brother had decided to "sacrifice himself and go directly on the field to talk to the locals." Sam snorted as he remembered his brother's speech. As if the prospect of flirting with cheerleaders hadn't been on Dean's mind when he had left him alone, buried under dozens of books. That much had been obvious when Dean had come back two hours later, seating down heavily next to him, sighing loudly.
"That sucks, man. It just had to be high school. Why not college?? This is pure torture."
"Huh?"
"The cheerleader team, dude. Those chicks are so hot!"
"Dean."
"Anything interesting in those books of yours?"
"Beside the fact that the story of this town looks like some freaking soap-opera? Not much."
"Hey, speaking of soap-opera, do you know one of them is married? She's not even out of high school yet!"
"Yeah, I've read that in a local newspaper. Haley James Scott, right? She's married to one of the basket-ball players, Nathan Scott, who's the son of the city's mayor."
"And one cheerleader out of the market. A real shame, if you want my opinion. But there's a whole team of them. A couple of them are especially sexy… and so into me! You should have seen them back there, almost fighting to get my attention! But they got it all wrong. I could definitely take care of both of them, together even."
"Dude, you're talking about teenagers here!"
"My point exactly! I won't do anything, but man! How I wish I could!"
Sam had looked at him exasperated and it had taken Dean a moment to realize that he was waiting for the information he had gathered.
"Right. Bevin Mirskey and Peyton Sawyer. Both of them were dating members of the Ravens, the basket-ball team of the school. Started babbling about some ghost appearing to them a few days before their death, telling them that they were bad influence, that it was their entire fault, that kind of shit. Of course no one believed them, mostly because Bevin was used to talking nonsense. When Peyton started to tell the same story, people thought it was a joke orchestrated by the basket-ball players. And then both die from what looks like a heart attack."
"You think this Haley girl is in danger? That this spirit's deal is to go after people having a direct link to the players?"
Dean had shrugged. "I don't know. But this case definitely has something to do with the Ravens, if you ask me. It won't hurt to keep an eye on her though, just in case."
"We should also get in touch with one of her schoolmates, Marvin McFadden. Everyone calls him 'Mouth'. He's the school's sports announcer and runs a website about the Ravens. He's probably the one who knows the most about the team."
That night they had followed Haley to a local bar where Dean had been accosted by the two cheerleaders again. Sam had kept an eye on the blonde girl, like they were originally supposed to, while Dean had been enjoying himself a little too much in his opinion, swallowing down drinks after drinks, as he kept on flirting with, what he had learned were, Brooke and Rachel. That is, until one of the basket-ball players, who had been eying him for a while, decided to put a stop to his game. He had turned out to be Nathan Scott's half-brother, Lucas, the one they had almost run over with the Impala when they had arrived in town. He had seemed clearly pissed back then and had been definitely looking for a fight at that moment. Dean had gladly stood up to him but Sam had managed to calm the guy down before it got out of control.
"Come on."
"Let me grab one more drink before leaving."
"I think you've had enough. Why the hell would you fight with a teenager??"
"Because the fortune cookie told me to."
"Huh?"
Dean had looked perplexed for a few seconds before apparently coming back to his senses. "Oh, wrong fic."
Apparently.
"What??"
"What?"
"You are so drunk. Come on, let's get the hell out of here before getting into more trouble."
Keeping an eye on Haley proved itself to be useful. For her. But on March, 21st Rachel Gatina died. She was seen running, then driving away, obviously scared of something, before falling off a bridge and into a river. Dean and I got there too late, and despite our attempts, we weren't able to get her out of the water before her heart stopped permanently.
We finally decided to ask a few questions to Marvin McFadden the next day and learned that the Ravens had been losing games after games these past weeks, and that their coach, Brian Durham, had been furious as hell. He had made the team players practice a lot more than usual, making sure they had no free time left between training, sleeping and going to class.
Sam stopped writing as Dean stepped out of the bathroom half naked, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips, and started looking for a shirt and a pair of jeans. He was about to say something but decided against it, returning his attention to the journal instead, briefly wondering how many times he would have to tell Dean to bring clothes with him before taking a shower for it to actually sink in.
We discovered that the Ravens' coach, Whitey, as everyone called him, was behind those deaths. When his team had started loosing games, he had held the cheerleaders responsible. For him, they were corrupting his players. He claimed that all he wanted was to scare the girls, absolutely not kill them. But it got out of hand. Dean and I easily managed to break the ritual he had used to summon the spirit and had him arrested.
"You ready, Sammy?"
"Yeah," he replied, scribbling down the last words.
"I really hope this new case you found involves chicks of legal age and won't require an investigation in some old people's home or something." Dean shuddered at the thought.
Sam chuckled as he grabbed his bags. "I'll tell you more in the car."
"All right, then. Let's hit the road."
- end
