DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I based Bridget off of fan videos I've seen with Brooke from One Tree Hill and came up with a character to put in a "what if" universe. So this is the pilot from season one I wrote for a friend and decided to post it out of boredom.

S1 E1 PILOT

"Come on, I need your help with me on this, Sam," Dean pleaded with his younger brother which was hard enough seeing as how they'd been estranged for four years when Sam ran off to college after high school leaving him and their dad to take on the "business" .

Sam shook his head. "He's always missing and he's always fine."

"Not for this long. Are you coming with me and Bridget or not?"

"No, I'm…who's Bridget?" He doubled back with a frown.

Dean grinned, face lighting up. "She's a tiger is what she is," he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "She's over there by my car."

Sam first noticed the girl leaning against the Mustang, her dark brown hair tossed over her shoulders, head tilted back with her eyes closed as if sunbathing in the dark. She wore a blue tank top with a white tank top beneath it and a black jacket over it. Her denim skirt went to just above her knees and her black boots went to just below her knee showing the palest glimpse of skin at her thighs when she moved her legs. It would have been a typical prostitute outfit but for some reason he found she could work it into classy.

"You brought a toy with you?" he asked glumly at his brother.

Dean shook his head, "God, no. Not that I wouldn't get with that but she's made it very clear on several occasions that I'm not going to be touching her in a sexual or flirtatious manner ever."

"How'd she get that point across?"

"With her knee digging into my kidney's, my arm twisted behind my back, and my face in the floor."

Sam's eyes widened. "She pinned you."

"Yeah and not in a good way. Just because she looks like a babe doesn't mean she can't fight like a damn karate kid."

"So…she knows?"

"Ohh yeah, she found us…or we found her," he shook his head. "It was a collaboration of the two things. Three years ago Dad and I are on a hunt for old yellow eyes and we come across some poltergeist and one pins me, next thing I know some rock salt blast blows it away. I think its Dad but there's this gorgeous chick standing there with a shot gun and this dead set determined look on her face that was a total turn on in her skirt and boots…anyway she joined up with us after proving herself to Dad…he got kinda proud with her after awhile. Like the daughter he never had…bitch even got to ride shot gun after awhile…"

"Sounds like you don't need me."

"We do, we can't do this on our own."

"I'm done with it, Dean."

"Come on, it wasn't that bad."

Sam looked at him in a you're kidding manner. "When I told dad I was scared of the thing in my closet he gave me .45."

"So what? What was he supposed to do?"

"I was nine! He was supposed to say don't be afraid of the dark."

"Lots of things live in the dark, Sam."

"Yeah I know. But ever since Mom died Dad's been obsessed with it and we haven't found anything. Just killed whatever we found."

"Saved a lot of people doing it," argued Dean.

"We were raised like warriors!"

"So what are you going to do? Just live a normal apple pie life?" Dean asked angrily.

"No. Not normal. Just safe."

Dean rubbed at his eyes. "Dad's in trouble, I can feel it. I can't do this alone."

"You won't. You got Kick Ass Katie over there in her boots and skirt."

"We need you, Sam. He's your Dad. I need you…"

Sam sighed as they walked to the car, Dean smiling triumphantly. "Got him," he told the girl as they approached.

The brunette smiled, teeth gleaming perfectly in her round face. "Took you long enough, Dean," she held her hand out to Sam. "I'm Bridget."

"Sam," he said, shaking her hand as she moved with them to the back of the car. She paused a moment next to Dean and socked his arm. Sam even winced at the force as Dean grabbed the spot and looked at her. "OW! What the hell was that for?"

"Calling me a bitch when you told your brother I rode shot gun in your dad's truck."

Sam seemed impressed. Bridget turned to him with a smile and tapped her ear. "I have really good hearing…so that means…" she smacked Sam's arm and even he rubbed at the spot and that was just the back of her hand. She was strong for her size. "That's for calling me a toy. Now that that's out of the way let's get down to business." She held up a finger in Dean's direction to silence him. "Dean, I swear to God you make a comment and you'll be lying in the asphalt no longer wondering what it taste like."

Dean shut his mouth and opened the trunk.

"What was Dad hunting?" Sam asked.

"We're not sure," Bridget answered as Dean rummaged through the trunk.

"Why didn't either of you go with him?"

Bridget snorted. "Like I go with John unless invited to do so."

He raised his eyebrows. "You call him John."

"That is his name you know," she nodded her head brushing a strand of her dark hair from her eyes.

"Never heard anyone really call him that except his friends."

"Like Bobby."

"You know Bobby?"

"Why do you keep sounding surprised, Sam? Is it that fact I'm a female or that I know about these things yet I'm not freaked out?"

"Not sure…"

"Besides," Dean interrupted. "We were doing a gig in New Orleans. You know the typical Voo Doo crap."

"Dad let's you go on a hunting trip alone."

"Dude, I'm twenty-six. Bridget is twenty-five. Okay here we go," he laid out a map. "Dad was in Jericho California. About a month ago they find his car, he's gone. Completely M.I.A."

"Maybe he was kidnapped."

Bridget pulled out a folder from the trunk and took out neatly organized papers, tapping her blue finger nail against it, "Here's another one in April," pulls out another article. "Another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them over the past twenty years, all men, all same five mile stretch. Started happening more and more so your Dad went to go digging around. That was three weeks ago. We haven't heard from him since. Then Dean get's this voice mail."

Dean had his cell phone in hand and hit a button. The phone crackled from static on the other side and Sam could hear his father. "Dean, Bridge, something is starting to happen, I think it's serious. I need to try and figure out what's going on. Be very careful, we're all in danger."

Sam pointed at the phone. "There's an EVP on that."

"Not bad, Sammy. Like riding a bike. Bridge went over it on her computer. We pulled this." He played the recorder he had in his other hand and a woman's voice came over the static. "I can never go home."

"Never go home," Sam repeated with a frown.

"I've never bugged you for four years, Sam," Dean said, putting his phone back in his pocket.

"All right, I'll help you both out, I have to be back first thing Monday though."

"Why Monday?" Bridget asked.

"I go this…interview."

"Job interview?" Dean asked.

"It's law school interview. It's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean questioned with raised eyebrows.

It was a bright day out as the two sat in the car waiting for Dean. Sam was riding in the front, which he was sure Bridget despised him for. He mulled through Dean's cassette tapes.

Bridget was sitting in the back seat, reading a book, still wearing her usual denim cut off skirt and black boots. This time she had on a black spaghetti strap shirt, her hair down, bangs hanging lightly in her eyes. One hand held the book, the other absent mindedly twisted pulled a ring back and forth across an intricate wheat style chain that sparkled with what he imagined diamond bits in it. The ring appeared to be a twisted band of white gold with a moonstone in the center and two smaller diamonds twisted into it one each side.

"Nice ring," he said making small talk.

She paused in her twisting the ring as if realizing she was doing it. She stopped moving it but still held it, "Thank you."

"Nice chain too. Are those diamonds that make it sparkle like that."

"Uh huh," she said and turned the page expertly with the hand holding the book.

"Where did you get it?"

Her eyes didn't move from the page, "My brother gave me the chain for my birthday a few years back."

He nodded his head and scratched the back of his head. "So…what does he think of you doing all this?"

She froze then, eyes moving up to him, mouth slightly open, her tongue licking her teeth from behind slightly in thought. "He's dead."

Sam winced and mentally smacked himself for asking a question like that. "God, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

Dean opened the door then saving him from further digging a grave. He waved some breakfast bars at Sam and handed Bridget her Gatorade and change. "You want breakfast?" he asked. Bridget leaned over and plucked one from his hand, sitting back in her seat.

"So how do you pay for this stuff?" Sam asked. "Rip off credit cards?"

"Hey, I pay in cash," Bridget defended herself, drinking her Gatorade,

"Not our fault they send us credit card apps."

"You gotta update your cassette collection," Sam shook his head.

"Why?" Dean asked.

He went through it naming some. "Black Sabbath? AC/DC? Aerosmith? Metallica?"

"Hey! What's wrong with that?" Bridget argued sitting forward between the two. "Those are classics. That is real music. Not the Blink 182 Fallout Boy bullshit out there nowadays."

"Amen sister," Dean reached over and took a tape from him, putting it in. "Rules of the car. Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cake hole. And backseat is a music goddess."

"I can agree to that," she smiled.

After hours of driving, they finally reached the bridge where the next accident happened. Police were lining the bridge and Sam was wondering how they'd get into this. Bridget handed Dean something from a lockbox she had with her in the backseat and he handed one to Sam. It was a fake detective ID. "Check it out. Let's go."

They all got out of the car and approached the police. One cop leaned over and yelled over the bridge. "Did you guys find anything?"

"No nothing. No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean."

One of the cops turned to the other cop. "So this Troy kid, he was dating your daughter?"

The cop nodded, "Yeah."

"How's Amy doing?"

"She's putting up missing posters downtown."

"You fellas had another one a month ago, right?" Dean asked as they got closer.

The cop looked them over. "Who are you?"

Dean flipped open the wallet. "Federal Marshal's."

"Aren't you three a little young?" he eyed Bridget's clothes, not the typical Federal outfit

"Well that's awfully kind of you," she smiled. "Bartender found my age hard to believe too during my undercover gig on a drug bust I just got down with few counties over. We've been watching this for awhile though. So you guys had another last month?"

"Yeah, about a mile up the road. There've been a lot like this," the cop admitted.

Sam asked, "The victim. You knew him?"

"Town like this everybody knows everybody."

"Any connections to the victims besides that they're all men?" Bridget asked as they circled the car with the cop.

"No, not as far we can tell."

"So what's the theory?" Sam asked and stood on Dean's other side.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial killer? Kidnapping ring?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Well that is exactly the kind of crack police work I expect out of you guys."

Sam stomped on Dean's foot. "Thank you, for your time, gentlemen." The three of them started walking back to the car, and once out of range Dean smacked Sam upside the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Why did you step on my foot?"

"Why did you talk to the police like that?"

"Oh, come on they don't know what's going on," Dean said. "We're in this alone."

Bridget cleared her throat indicating behind Dean where the sheriff stood with two investigators.

"Can I help you three?"

"No, we were just leaving," Dean smiled and they got back in the car, taking off.

Now they were walking around the downtown area, in search of Troy's girlfriend. It didn't take long to spot her in the small town. Dean nudged Sam, "I bet that's her."

They slowly approached her, Dean walking in the middle between his brother and friend. "You must be Amy," he said as they got closer.

The young girl turned around to face them, cautiously. "Yeah…"

"Troy told us about you," Dean said and gestured at Sam. "We're his uncles." He put his arm around Bridget's shoulders, "This is my girlfriend." She stiffened next to him and forced a smile though her eyes said he would pay dearly later.

"Troy never mentioned you."

Dean shrugged. "Well, that's Troy. We're not much around. We're up in Modesto. We're looking for him too, asking around."

"What do you say we go somewhere more comfortable and talk?" Bridget suggested with a warm smile at the girl and touched her arm gently. She nodded and they winded up in a booth at the restaurant where Bridget made sure she sat next to Sam forcing Dean to take the window and Amy to take the aisle seat.

"When did you last hear from him?" Dean asked as their drinks arrived.

"I was on the phone with Troy, he was driving home. He said he would call me back when he got there, but he never did."

"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.

"No, nothing I can remember," she said.

Bridget took a sip from her coffee and pointed at Amy's star pendant. "I like your necklace."

She pulled it away from her shirt so they could see better. "Troy gave it to me…I like that ring on your necklace. That a moonstone?"

Bridget touched it, her eyes darkening a bit and she nodded. "Yeah…my boyfriend gave it to me."

Amy looked at Dean. "You have good taste."

He winced slightly forgetting he had told her Bridget was his girlfriend where the truth was more painful and this just made it sting. "Thanks."

"This mostly scares my parents with all the devil stuff," she admitted, not noticing the painful awkward tension that hung in the air. "It's actually the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. If you believe in that kind of thing."

"It's just the way Troy disappeared, something's not right," Dean said.

Amy went silent, thinking.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"Well, it's just with all these guys going missing, people talk."

Sam, Dean, and Bridget asked the question at the same time, "What do they talk about?"

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on that road like…decades ago. Well supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, whoever picks her up – well they disappear."

The three exchanged glances, all thinking the same thing…they had just found their answer.

Twenty minutes later after a quick goodbye and they were at the local library. Dean, of course, was on the computer looking through old articles getting nothing each time he typed in. Bridget examined her nails with a sigh. "Let me try, Dean."

"No, I got this."

"You always say that and I'm always the mastermind of research."

"I got it."

"Let me try, dear," she growled and smacked him upside the head. "That's for the shoulder hug and girlfriend comment. Don't argue, you deserved it and you know it."

Dean just shook his head still getting no results.

"Can I try?" Sam asked with a sigh.

"I got it," he said.

Sam rolled his eyes and pushed Dean's rolling chair out of the way, moving another in front of it and sitting down.

"Dude, you are such a control freak," he hissed and scooted back over while Bridget leaned forward between them.

"So angry spirits are born out of a violent death, right?" Sam asked.

"You got it," said Bridget. "Doesn't mean murder…

"Bingo," Sam said to her and typed in Suicide Centennial Highway. An article popped up from 1981 about Constance Welch drowning in the river.

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Says she called 911. Her two little kids were in the bathtub she left for a minute came back in they were dead."

"And look at the bridge she jumped off of," Bridget said pointing at the screen. "Field trip, boys…"

They were standing back on the bridge, the sky dark now and despite the lateness it wasn't cold, no need for her to put on her jacket. The three walked over to the side of the bridge looking down over the edge at the muddy water.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive?"

"Gee, Dean. Could you be any more sensitive?" Bridget asked him.

"Not really."

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked looking out over the distance at the nothingness that gave way to the dark.

"Well he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him," Dean shrugged.

"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked turning to the two of them.

"Now we get to digging til we find him," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam said with a shake of his head. "I got to get back –."

"Yeah, Monday. Interview. Got it."

"Yeah," he nodded his head.

"Right…I almost forgot…you're serious about this? You think you're going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

Bridget was absentmindedly pulling the ring back and forth again, staring off with a slight pained look as they argued, oblivious to her.

"Maybe. Why not?" Sam asked.

"Does Jessica know the truth bout you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

"No," he shook his head. "And she's never going to know."

Dean snorted. "Well that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." He turned and started walking down the bridge and Sam followed him, Bridget moved but less enthusiastically.

"And who's that, Dean?"

He turned to face him. "One of us."

"No, I'm not like any of you. This is not going to be my life. I don't want it."

"You think any of us did?" Bridget finally spoke, and they both looked at her, the angry look in her hazel brown eyes. "You think we wanted to do this? You think this thing doesn't know who we are…It fell on us…it's our responsibility."

Dean added on, "It's your responsibility."

"To dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her and kill it, it won't bring her back."

Dean launched at Sam and grabbed him by the shirt pinning him to the rail, Bridget was quick to grab Dean's shoulder. "Dean, stop!"

"Don't you ever talk about mom like that," he growled.

"Dean…come on," Bridget said, easing him off Sam. Dean let go and both happened to look down the bridge to see a woman standing on the ledge in white holding on to the rail. "Sam…Bridget…"

"Yeah," she nodded with wide eyes. "I see her."

"Me too…" Sam nodded.

The woman looked at them then let go, The three ran over to where she was looking down but saw nothing in the water below.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam said.

"She just disappeared," Bridget added.

The three froze when they heard Dean's car start up and slowly they turned to look down the road.

"What the hell?" Bridget muttered.

"Dean…who's driving the car?" Sam asked.

Dean reached into his jacket pocket and took out the keys. The car slowly started coming towards them. Sam grabbed Dean's arm slowly backing up before they started running. "Come on, Dean! Let's go! GO!"

The three sprinted down the road the car tailing them and catching up.

Bridget felt someone grab her arm. "Bridget, move!" Sam shouted and pulled her towards the railing where they had no choice but the jump off. She managed to grab onto the bottom of the ledge and hang there dangling, she managed to turn her head to see Sam next to her. She cracked a smile at him. "How's it hanging?"

He chuckled and pulled himself up the ledge reaching to give her a hand. "Been better…Dean next to you?"

She shook her head, getting her feet up on the ledge, "No I thought he was next to you?"

They both came to the realization that could mean only one thing at the same time and looked down at the water below and shouted. "DEAN!"

"What?" he shouted from the bank, crawling up it, splattered with mud and soaking wet.

They both let out a sigh of relief and Bridget briefly rested her head against Sam's shoulder as she shouted to his brother. "You okay?"

"I'm super!" he said sarcastically as he made it back up to the bridge meeting back with Bridget and Sam. "I didn't know you two would go all spider monkey on me."

"You think I wanted to fall in that mess," she said scrunching her face at Dean.

"Your car all right?" Sam asked as he inspected it.

"Yeah, whatever she did it seems all right now…that bitch."

He got in the car, Bridget sliding into the backseat. "She doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure."

"How about we go get a room?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah…I need a shower."

"A few of them," Bridget nodded in agreement.

They found a small hotel on one side of town and walked in. The desk clerk's eyes widened slightly at Dean's wet and muddy appearance. He plopped the credit card on the counter. "One room please. Two beds preferably."

The man took the card and swiped frowning at the name. "Are you guys having a reunion or something?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked puzzled.

"That other guy, Bert Aframan, rented out a room for a month."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances and Bridget took up the ropes. "Yeah, he's my uncle. They're father. We had no idea he was staying here. Can you tell us what room he's in" she tossed her hair expertly over her shoulder and gave him a gleaming smile. "Please?"

The man blushed slightly and handed her the extra key along with the key to their room. "Room 216, right down the outside."

"Thanks," she winked at him and Dean and Sam followed her out. She stuck the key in the door and pushed it open, giving a whistle at the sight of the room. The bed was unmade and articles and papers were taped to the walls. It would look like a mad mans room to normal people, they weren't normal, this was usual.

Sam was inspecting the salt on the floor in a circle. "He was worried about something." He noticed Bridget staring at the articles and moved to stand next to her. "What do you have?"

"The missing people on the Centennial Highway. I don't get it," she shook her head and gestured at it. "Different men, different ages, nothing in common."

Sam stared at an article and chuckled. "Dad figured it out."

Dean looked at the article of Constance. "Sly dog. So we're dealing with a woman in white."

"Does it say where she was buried?" Bridget asked.

He shook his head, "Not that I can tell. If I was Dad, I'd ask the husband."

"All right. You two find an address. I'm gonna get cleaned up," he said.

"Hey Dean," Sam said. "I'm sorry about what I said earlier-."

Dean held his hand up. "No chick flick moments."

"Okay…jerk."

"Bitch…" Dean went into the bathroom closing the door and Bridget turned on her laptop to find the address. She had in two minutes later which left silence except for the sound of the shower.

Bridget touched the ring at her neck and dropped her hand back down, glancing at her nails. "You're probably wondering how a girl like me ended up doing a gig like this…let's face it, I don't look like the type of girl that kills demons or hunts things that go bump in the night. I didn't always. I was a college student majoring in fashion and minoring in business. I worked part time as a secretary and I was engaged to the love of my life, Will. Met him in college my first year when I was eighteen. We had a small apartment together, planned on buying a house after we were done with school and settled. Somewhere not far from my brother and his wife. We had it all planned out."

"What happened?" Sam asked the inevitable question.

She touched the ring again. "A little over three years ago I was over at my brother's house. He and his wife, Lydia, had just had a baby, my nephew, about a month before. So I was over there visiting with Will, who I had gotten engaged to over that period of time. We were all in the living room, Lydia went upstairs to check on the baby. After fifteen minutes Derek went to see what was taking so long. Will and I heard him yell and we ran up the stairs and…it was on fire…Derek was trapped in the nursery with my nephew. I could see Lydia, pinned to the ceiling…I wanted to get to him but the whole ceiling was coming down in the hall. It was like the fire was alive and was coming after me. Will pulled me away and hurried me out the front door. The last I saw of my brother was the ceiling coming down on him…we got outside and I was a mess I was screaming trying to get back in and Will wouldn't let me and the next thing I knew he's yelling my name and I hear this shot ring out and…and Will's on the ground bleeding from a hole in his chest and this person is standing in the shadows all I saw was blonde hair and these glowing eyes I'll never forget and then they were gone, just melted into shadow…Will died right there on the lawn while I held him…my entire family gone in a night," she met his eyes determined not to cry. "I met your brother and dad three months after that and I've been hunting with them ever since…so you see…sometimes it chooses you…whether you want it or not. And if it wants you, it'll get you one way or another."

Sam was speechless, choked off by her story. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she let out a deep breath. "It was a long time ago. It's why I'm helping Dean find John. I don't want to lose anymore family then I already have."

Dean came out of the shower then, much cleaner than before. "You hungry? I'm starving."

"I'm good," she shook her head.

"Me too," Sam nodded.

He held out the fake credit card. "You sure?"

"Yeah, we'll just stay here."

"Okay, you kids have fun," he said and left.

Bridget shook her head in amusement at him. "He's a character."

"He's something all right," Sam mumbled and his cell phone rang. It was Dean. "What?"

"Dude," he said in a hushed whisper. "Five oh, you and Bridge take off."

"What about you?" he asked.

"They spotted me. You two go find Dad." He clicked the phone then and looked at Bridge who didn't seem fazed as she said. "It's the cops."

He nodded his head, "Yeah, time to go." He looked out the window and saw the cops had Dean.

"Shit," he mumbled.

Bridget came up behind him. "Are they the same cops from earlier?"

"Not that I can tell," he said. "This isn't good."

She ran her fingers through her hair, bushing it out a bit to look a bit tasseled. "I got an idea, don't worry." She looped her arm through his and winked at him. "Play along with me." They both moved out of the room, unseen by the police officer and she moved them around the corner and made a show of just coming around the corner, clinging to Sam's arm and giggling, fumbling with her footing. Sam held onto her, forcing himself to relax. The cop walked right past them as they walked to the end of the motel.

"Are they still watching us?" she whispered with a giggle.

Sam glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah…ones walking towards us."

"Got it," she snorted and let out another drunken laugh then stumbled against Sam hard enough to knock him flat against the door to what was their original hotel room. She had the key in her pocket. But before Sam could say anything she planted her lips on his, arms going around him as she pressed herself against him, feeling him tense up in the surprise of the onslaught.

"Excuse me," a voice said clearing their throat from her right.

She parted from Sam, staying close to him and looked with heavy lids at the officer. "Can I help you officer?" she asked slightly slurred.

"Do you know where the other occupants of the room down the way are?"

She frowned puzzled. "No idea…we just got here after a loooonng night at the bar a few blocks away," she snorted. "Looonnggg walk when you're drinking, right honey."

Sam nodded when she patted her hand against his chest a little harder than necessary, he got the hint. "Ohh yeeaa," he said.

"Maybe they're there…there was a looott of people there."

The officer nodded. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said and walked away towards the squad car that held Dean.

Bridget opened the door and pulled Sam in with a sigh, fixing her hair and her lipstick in the mirror. "Sorry about that, I had to think quick and you seemed shaky enough as it is. Didn't want you blowing our cover."

"What do we do now?" he asked, forgetting the kiss or trying to.

She held out the paper with the address on it. "We go visit Joseph Welch."

He took it from her and looked at the address. "How do we get there?"

She smiled and took out Dean's keys. "I'm a jack of all trades."

He took the keys from her and looked at her smiling triumphantly, her hands on her slender hips, one leg bent slightly. He couldn't help but notice that she was beautiful, despite the fact he had Jessica who was everything to him, but Bridge was different. She came from his world, knew about things he did, she had been in college and knew that life and this one. She was…different. "You're something all right."

They knocked on the door to the blue house and a man in his late fifties answered. "Hi," Sam said nervously, "Uh, are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah."

"Can we talk to you?" Bridget asked as he stepped outside.

"About?"

Sam handed him a photo of his dad. "Have you seen this man? He's gone missing?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "He's a bit older than that picture but he came by three or four days ago, said he was a reporter."

"That's right," Bridget nodded. "We're working on a story together. We're his apprentices."

"Well I don't know what kind of story you guys are writing with the questions he asked me."

"About what?" Sam asked.

"Where Constance was buried."

"Where was that?"

"In a plot behind my old place in Breckenridge."

"Why did you move?" Sam asked.

"I'm not going to live in the house where my children died," he said.

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" Bridget asked.

"No," he shook his head. "Constance was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I'd ever known."

"So you had a happy marriage?" Sam questioned.

He hesitated long enough that Bridget took notice as well as Sam. "Definitely."

"Well that should do it," Sam said and put his arm on Bridget's shoulder to direct her to the car. "Thank you for your time," Sam paused halfway down the walkway. "Mr. Welch, have you ever hear of the woman in white?"

"The what?" he asked.

Bridget spoke before Sam did taking him by surprise on her book smarts. "Woman in white, or sometimes a weeping woman. It's a ghost story. Well it's more of a phenomenon really. Um, they're spirits. They've been sited for hundreds of years. Dozens of places; in Hawaii and Mexico. Lately in Arizona and Indiana. All these are different women, you understand. But all share the same story."

"Girl, I don't care much for that nonsense."

Sam filled in the rest. "You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed. Walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again."

He seemed stunned by the truth, "You think-You think that has something to do with Constance? You smartass."

"You tell us."

He huffed. "I mean maybe—maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance would never would have killed her own children. Now you get the hell out of here, and you don't come back."

Bridget nodded her head and turned to Sam. "Oh yeah, he cheated and she killed them…we need to find the body…and go get Dean."

"How do we do that?"

She took out her cell phone punching in some numbers. "I'm on it, just get us to that house, drop me off and meet me back there."

"I'm not leaving you alone there."

"I'm a girl, she doesn't want me…and I'll take the shotgun, I just want to see if I can find her plot. That way you boys can get to diggin'. Better get a move on," she said and slid into the car. Sam shook his head, amazed at her boldness.

His cell phone rang as he was driving down the highway having just dropped off Bridget. "Hello."

"Fake 911 call, that's pretty illegal."

"Bridget made it, not me."

"Should have figured," he snorted. "Where is she?"

"At Constance's old house inspecting it and finding the grave. I'm on my way to get you."

"No, just go back to the house and help her, I'll meet you there. It's not a long walk. I got something to show you…I found Dad's journal."

"He never goes anywhere without that."

"He did this time."

"What's it say?"

"Same military crap on where to find him."

"I don't get it. Why would he skip out on a mission, what the hell did he find? Whoa!" Sam slammed the breaks, eyes wide at the woman in white who was in front of his car. She disappeared and was suddenly in the back seat.

"Take me home."

He shook his head as his phone went dead, "No." He reached for the door and found it locked, it wouldn't budge. He was trapped. The car turned around and began driving back to the house on Breckenridge. Then it shut off.

"Don't do this," he shook his head.

"I can never go home," she said.

"You're scared to go home," Sam said with a frown as it dawned on him. He turned to look at her in the backseat, she was gone. He turned back around and suddenly she was in the passenger seat, pushing him down, sitting on top of him.

"Hold me, I'm cold," she pouted.

Sam shook his head, "You can't kill me. I've never been unfaithful."

She smiled. "You've thought it when you fought it," she said and leaned down to kiss him. She turned into a monster and disappeared but her claws started to attack him, scratching at his chest, trying to reach into him. He screamed at the pain of her digging into his chest with her fingers. A gunshot rang through the car and she reformed turning to see Bridget standing there with a shot gun and a smile. "Say bye bye bitch," she fired again and Constance screamed. She was distracted enough that Sam turned the ignition of the car, "You're going home." He hit the gas pedal and the car lurched forward crashing through the house.

"Sam!" Bridget yelled and ran inside through the gapping hole towards the car. "Sam! Are you okay?"

"I think," he coughed as she reached the driver window.

"Can you move?" she asked.

"Yeah, help me out," he said and Bridget put down the shot gun and helped him out of the car, pulling him out and helping him stand as they moved in front of the car where Constance was looking at a picture of her kids. She threw it the ground and with a yell the heavy dresser lurched forward and pinned Sam and Bridget to the hood of the car. They struggled to push it off but to no avail with a pissed off ghost and the shot gun was out of reach by mere inches from her fingers as she reached for, trying to pull her body to get it. It tilted back and forth as she reached, wanting it to come towards her. It moved faster in small rotations, dancing near her fingers…it was right there. Suddenly the lights flickered and she stopped reaching turning towards the staircase to see two small children there. "You've come home to us mommy."

They watched as her kids were suddenly behind her, grabbing her as she screamed and melted away into shadows with them. The dresser suddenly became lighter and they pushed it away, standing up just as Dean came through the hole the car made.

"Oh my God!" he rushed over to his car. "My baby! What did you do?"

"Stopped a crazed ghost from killing me," Sam said with a shake of his head.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Bridget said looking around the house.

"That's why she could never go home," said Sam. "She was too scared to face her kids."

Dean clapped him on the back. "You found the weak spot. Way to go."

"What about me?"

"You shot Casper in the face," Sam told her.

"Yeah, and I saved your ass didn't I?" she asked and got in the car.

Sam didn't mention that it was her that got him in that situation. The kiss had been the reason she could hurt him. And he didn't mention noticing the gun tilt when she reached for it, trying to get it.

He got in the car with Dean who patted the dashboard, promising to get her all fixed up later. "If you hurt my car I'll kill you," he told Sam and put the journal on the seat. "So here's where Dad is," he pointed at it and Bridge leaned forward to see. "It's called Blackwater Ridge Colorado.

"Sounds charming," she muttered. "How far?"

"About 600 miles. If we shag ass we can be there by morning."

Sam cleared his throat, "Uh…Dean."

His face fell, "You're not going with us…"

"My interview is in ten hours. I gotta be there."

"Yeah," he nodded and started the car. "Yeah, I'll take you home."

They pulled up to Sam's apartment and they all sat there in silence. Sam grabbed his bag out of the backseat next to Bridge who stared at her nails over the front seat, closest to Dean. The remaining two off to do this on their own when it had been so much better as the three of them. She felt less alone with Sam, like the triangle was complete.

"So, you'll call me if you find out anything about Dad?"

Dean nodded, staring at the dashboard.

"Maybe I can meet up with you guys sometime later," Sam suggested.

Bridget nodded her head, inspecting her nails. "Yeah, sure."

Sam started to leave and Dean called out, "Sam." He turned around. "The three of us made one hell of a team."

He nodded slowly, "Yeah…"

Dean and Bridget drove away slowly and she hopped into the front seat. She ran her fingers through her hair, staring out the windshield. "Just the two of us again."

"Yeah…we're used to it though…"

She nodded and gasped suddenly, grabbing at her necklace as she felt something. It was almost as if her necklace burned.

Dean slammed on the brakes and looked at her, hand on her back. "What? Bridge, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, hand on his arm. "I don't know. Go back. We need to go back to Sam. Now!"

Dean put the car in reverse without a second question and peeled out towards Sam's. When they got there it was on fire. "Oh God!" she said and got out of the car. Dean held a hand out to her as he ran towards the front. "Stay here!"

Bridget waited, biting her nails and touching her necklace with the other hand. It wasn't burning anymore, but it had been. It had never done that before, she had never been filled with that sense of urgency…whatever it was she was lucky they had gone back.

Dean came out the fiery door with Sam then and she let out a sigh of relief until she saw there was no Jess. She looked at Dean and he shook his head…it had gotten her…that bastard had gotten her. She put her hand hesitantly on Sam's shoulder as they watched the fire department put out the fire. Dean stood next to her quietly, hands in his pockets. None of them said anything. There was nothing to say. But Bridget was right, Sam realized. He couldn't run away from this, it would get him to do it at any cost…and the cost was Jess's life. He turned to look at Dean and Bridget. "We got work to do."