A/N: Story a thought of based off my uncle's car and the need to write a Supernatural fic. Alexander and Rowan's past will be more deeply divulged as the story goes on, but they're hunters and they're after the same beastie our favorite sexy brothers happen to be after at the moment. The setting is a small, uneventful town called Holbrook in Massachusetts. I wouldnt suggest going there. It's incredibly dull. Although, my friends tell me the pizza there is rockin', which is why Holbrook House is featured in this story. Good stuff. Anywho, enjoy, and review if you like it so i know to continue posting it. Otherwise i'll just write updates in my notebook and delete it off this site. Why waste bandwidth? So, tell me if you like it. And if you do, i'll write more. Check out my other stories if you like PotC, CSI, HP, or HSM. Roswell stuff coming soon, along with various other outlets.. Arrested Development fics in development now! Read and enjoy! The first chapter is three and a half pages long, others'll be shorter. Another update coming within the week, besides that, no promises.
A black Ford LTD '72 Convertible pulled up to the traffic light, the windows down and the music on, blasting the opening notes to Sum41's "Fat lip" through the thick, midsummer air of the small, suburban south shore Massachusetts town. The driver wasn't paying much attention to the girl in the passenger seat, who was talking and occasionally singing along with the music, fixing her hair as it blew in the slight breeze and adjusting her sunglasses as she smiled lightly, glancing around.
"This town is perfect," she said quietly, seeing the old-fashioned brick buildings and white-steeple church. The well groomed lawns and neat, clean, fresh looking houses looked like the white-picket dream, while the other side of town was more how she grew up; rough, dirty, and not as pleasantly kept. Her punk friends would shake their heads at her wistful dream of normalcy, as normalcy was popular and popular is a betrayal of who she was, according to her old self. Now, even "punk" was normal compared to the things she'd seen; now, she'd seen the supernatural, and everything was normal to her but what she was, and how she lived.
"Xander, come on, pull over here, I want to take a few pictures," she complained to her older brother.
"No, Rae, no way. We're here to hunt, not sight see. And this town isn't much to look at," he muttered, rolling his eyes.
"At least let me out so I can go to the bathroom. There's a pizza place right there, we can grab a slice, and let Meeks out. She's probably anxious to get out."
"I don't know why you took Miko with us in the first place. She's just a cat, and cat's shouldn't be on road trips when hunting… things."
"She's family," Rae snapped. "And I want all my family with me, all the time. So get over it and pull over." He scowled a little, "Family my ass. She's a cat and it's not like you treat me all that great, and I'm family."
"I treat you fine. Pull over or I'll jump out. I can ask a few locals if they've heard anything."
"I say we stick to the newspaper. Go straight to the hospital to interview the vic,"
"No way. We need to find out more precisely what we're dealing with before we jump into the water. We need to be sensitive if we're dealing with a victim and if we're clueless as to what we're dealing with, our questions won't exactly be subtle. If I were normal and attacked by some creature and I was in the hospital, I wouldn't want someone asking if I saw a werewolf or ghost or wendigo or something of the sort."
"Fine, fine. If we go to the pizza place, will you promise to shut your mouth for once?" he asked warily, turning up the music which was now Nirvana.
"Never, but I'll be less annoying," she said with a small laugh.
"You'll never be less annoying. That's why you're my little sister," he said quietly, rolling his eyes. She smirked at him as he pulled into Holbrook House of Pizza and parked in a space next to a rundown nail salon.
"Nice parking spot," she commented dryly, getting out of the car and stretching. They'd been driving since they left Maryland and she was glad to finally get out of the car and smooth her aching muscles. She glanced around warily and noted a nice-looking 1967 black Chevy. She wished she could get behind the wheel of that sweet car, but was still quite fond of the convertible her great uncle gave her for her 20th birthday.
"What's that? An Impala?" she asked her brother, knowing he'd know off the top of his head after working with cars for ten years before joining his little sister to make sure she'd be safe on the hunt. "Yeah. A nice one too. Damn, I could go for that car now," he said, grinning. "Keep your sticky fingers to yourself, and I'm keeping my eyes on you to make sure that car doesn't magically start on its own," she warned. He frowned, "If it does anything magically, I'm getting the hell away from it and so are you," he said bitterly.
She smiled innocently, "You just missed the wink it gave me. I guess that means it's possessed and we have to stay far, far away from it."
He scowled and scolded her, "Don't talk so lightly about possession, missy. You know how dangerous exorcisms are," but she held up a hand to silence him.
"You're going to make the locals think we're crazy before we even start asking questions." He nodded darkly and said, fine, fine, go in and grab me a soda, and something to eat while you're at it," he asked, blasting a Blink song. She grinned at his taste of music, "You know, you're almost thirty now, Xan, you should act more mature. Blast some Manson every once and a while." He grinned teasingly at his sister, popped in a CD, and played some Tainted Love by Marilyn Manson, per request. She grinned happily, pushing her sunglasses onto her forehead, using them as sort of a headband for her unruly, wavy, dark brown hair, her bangs half tucked behind her totally pierced ears and half still covering her soft brown eyes. She hummed along with Tainted Love as the door swung closed, a little bell dinging sharply as it closed. She surveyed the scene before her; 8 tables, three on each side of the room and one framing each side of the door, was all the seating arrangements in the small restaurant. The counter was big, and the kitchen spacious, with about four or five guys going in and out of it handling hot pizza, subs, and chicken. Two coolers full of various drinks sat on each side and she helped herself to a cream soda and a sprite, for herself and her brother, as well as a bottle of spring water for their cat. She sauntered up the counter, ordering a pizza and a chicken finger and mozzarella stick side order, paying with a twenty and tipping the guy the change. She sat at one of the empty tables, observing the other customers with a careful and studious eye, hoping to scope who would know most about the beast they were currently tracking.
She eyes a group of punk-looking teens and a girl who looked like she didn't quite fit in. It reminded her vaguely of herself with her friends in high school, when she was at her first school, before they moved around so much. After a while, they pulled her out of school completely and home schooled her; she had three college degrees by the time she was 18, and a hell of a lot more experience than most white-picket girls her age. Now she was twenty-six, and sick of her dream to be normal. She wished those kids would turn out okay, hoping they weren't too consumed in drugs or alcohol, sex or senseless violence, like most of her old friends; there was too much danger that most were unaware of to be putting themselves in harms way for stupid thrills and peer pressure. Cool wasn't normal. Normal wasn't cool. She smirked as she eyed the other patrons… 'Speaking of cool…' she thought to herself, eyeing a pair of good-looking young guys about her age and leather and a laid back look, working boots and sun glasses on. She suspected they were the owners of the Impala and had the urge to ask about the car, but resisted. One of them was watching her intently as she studied them, and he was talking in low tones with the second, who kept shaking his head and saying something to the first. She stood when her order was called and brought it out to Xander, before heading back in and asking politely to use the bathroom, which she was allowed. She returned not long after, and walked over to the group of teens.
"Hey, you guys into the unknown?" she asked casually, grinning almost teasingly. The girl that seemed out of place raised an eyebrow at her.
"What do you mean? Like supernatural stuff? Yeah, I'm all for it. There's this creature that attacks people once every five years-" but she was interrupted by a sharp elbow in her side and her friend shushed her. "
No. Nothing but stories around here," the girl said coldly, and Rae allowed herself to be taken aback by the sudden harshness of the group.
"You kids live around here?" she asked carefully, and a few of the group nodded. "You heard about that little girl, Sharon?" she asked, not sure if she should continue. They nodded again and one guy muttered, "Heard about her? I was with her."
She looked at him for a moment and said, "I believe you. What came after you?" He looked around nervously and then said, "Nothing. She fell."
Rae frowned. "Alright. If you say so. I'll be around. I'm a photographer. If you see something let me know," she nodded and the group muttered a variety of "Okays" and "goodbyes." She frowned as she headed outside and leaned on the convertible.
"Kid inside was with the victim when it happened, but his friends prevented him from talking. I didn't ask the other guys in there if they were local or not."
Xander nodded thoughtfully as he took another bite out of a barbeque-covered chicken finger. She rolled her eyes and went to pop the trunk,
"Woah, woah, woah, sissy, wait up before you pop that in public. There's equipment back there. Local authorities wouldn't exactly be peachy keen if they saw it." She rolled her eyes and said, "Relax, brother dearest. The only thing clearly visible when I pop the trunk is my photography equipment. The other tools are under the fake floor that you installed, and under the coats with Miko in the back."
He eased up a little as she removed her tripod, camera case, and film from the back, tying her jacket loosely around her waist.
"You can do me a favor and check local newspapers and the internet and whatnot for decent leads, okay? The libraries right there," she said, pointing to the brick building about a stone's throw away from them, next to the Tedeschi's that was right beside the pizza shop.
"Yeah, okay, and what are you going to be doing?" he asked skeptically. "Scouting and interviewing," she replied simply and he scowled.
"Yeah, and your photographer's instinct isn't leading you on?"
She smiled a little, "It's journalist's instinct, with a photographer's flare for inspiration, sweetie," she corrected him with a smile.
He sighed and obliged her wishes, taking a swig of cream soda before getting out of the car, locking it, and walking towards the library.
"Don't hotwire any sweet rides when I'm not with you," she called.
"Right back at you. And don't talk to any guys," he warned her, turning around and walking backward for a moment, eyeing her 'innocent' face with suspicion before turning around completely to walk to the library.
She smirked and unlocked the door, letting the cat out in the car, putting the water in her bowl and relocking the door. Miko looked up at her, took a little water, and curled up on a coat in the backseat. Rae smiled and walked with her gear across the street to the town center, taking a few photos of the park, the town hall and yard, the church and random buildings. She liked documenting every where their work led them, and remembering the people they met. She took out a notebook thick with information on several cases, including this one, and started jotting down notes, interviewing a few people and talking to authorities before adding more information.
She went back to Holbrook house, noting the teens had left but the guys from inside the restaurant were still there, only hanging outside in front of the place near her car and the Impala, instead. She walked towards them, figuring she should double check the door was locked. It was, but the handle and trigger of a gun was revealed under the coat that her cat had curled up in. The strangers had taken note of it and were talking in hushed tones. They stopped talking when they noted she drew nearer, and she opened the door, popping the trunk, plopping her equipment except her notebook in, and closing the trunk, then fixing the jacket her cat was on so it concealed the weapon. She glanced at them before deciding to act on her impulse, "You two from around here?" she asked casually, sitting on the hood after locking up the car again.
"No," came the rough, suspicious reply of the first, who had been staring at her earlier. His rugged appearance made her silently agree, 'You sure don't look it. New Hampshire, maybe?' she questioned herself. She didn't look at them long, trying to look inconspicuous. "Heard anything strange?" she asked cautiously, but the second replied this time. "No. Sorry," she shrugged and studied him, his longer, darker hair falling in his eyes before he brushed it away with the back of his hand. Hi voice was softer than his companion. "Y'all have names, or are you just the mysterious handsome stranger type?" she dared to ask, raising an eyebrow. This received a self-satisfied smirk from the first and a smile from the second. "Both," he replied. "I'm Sam. This is my brother, Dean." Dean nodded in response, still smirking smugly. She shrugged. "Rowan Rain Rosalyn," she introduced herself before getting off the hood of her car, and walking around to the driver's side door, opening it, and hopping inside. She started the ignition and backed up, pulling up next to them. "But my friends call me Rae. You've got a sweet car, by the way," she smirked and pulled away, driving down the street before pulling into the library parking lot and locking up, walking in with her journal in hand and searching for her brother.
More soon! Review if you care to.