Harksville, Missouri
"Are you sure you want me to stop? It looks pretty creepy out there with all that corn." The bespectacled blond boy asked. He took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at the wiggling, chubby brunette girl next to him in the passenger seat of the F-150 truck.
"Chris, goddammit, quit playing. I really need to pee. If you don't stop I'm gonna go all over the seat and I'm sure your dad ain't gonna like that." She showed just how serious the situation was, bending nearly in half, fists clenched into the navy blue, daisy printed material of her skirt, her legs still jiggling.
"I didn't make you drink that entire extra-large soda at the movie, Beth." He griped even as he pulled the truck over to the side of the road. The vehicle barely slowed before the passenger door was flung open and his girlfriend took off like a shot toward the many dark rows of corn.
While he waited, Chris flipped through the radio dial. Nothing catching his attention until all of the stations started going to static. Even the ones he knew should be coming in crystal clear.
Suddenly, the radio, along with the rest of the truck's power cut off, leaving him in the pitch black of the cloud covered night.
"Beth!" Chris shouted as he opened the door and stumbled out of the vehicle.
"What the hell are you yelling about?" Beth responded before a bright light lit up the cornfield and the sky above and her question turned into a blood curdling scream.
As quickly as the light came it was gone, leaving Chris, arm across his face, cowering beside the now fully functioning truck while the radio blared a country station at full volume.
I saw the light, I've been baptized. By the fire in your touch and the flame in your eyes.
4 Days Later
"I'm Agent Langly and this is my partner, Agent Frohike." Dean showed his badge to the deputy then pointed in Sam's direction, trying not to smirk at the annoyed mouth tick that appeared every time he introduced his brother while on their current case. "We're here to talk to Chris Adams."
The stocky, bald deputy behind the Sheriff's office counter shot them a wary look. "Why would the FBI be worried about Chris Adams?"
"Why would a kid demand to be locked in jail after his girlfriend went missing?" Sam countered.
The deputy opened his mouth to respond but instead left from behind the front desk. He came back a moment later with a dark haired woman, also in uniform.
"Can I help you gentlemen with something?" She asked, crossing her arms.
"Yes, ma'am." Dean began.
"It's Sheriff. Sheriff Mills. Now I'd like you to tell me what exactly makes this situation FBI worthy." Her gaze flicked between the two as she waited for an answer.
"Sheriff Mills, we're just a couple of field agents who got a call from our local office this morning to come check out some things here." Dean offered, hoping the canned line would placate the Sheriff.
"Here's our supervisor's number if you'd like to give him a call." Sam handed her a business card with a FBI line that led directly to Garth.
"I'll be right back." Sheriff Mills gave them another once over as she took the card and went toward her office.
"Are we wasting our time here, Deputy?" Dean propped an elbow on the countertop and engaged the other man with feigned conversational ease. "The guy did it, didn't he?"
Dean held in a triumphant smile when the question got the exact response he'd wanted all along as the deputy stood up straighter, face contorting with anger.
"Chris didn't do anything. If he says someone else took Beth then that's what happened!" He said loud and emphatically.
Playing the good guy to Dean's bad, Sam perceptively questioned. "Who exactly is he saying took her?"
"Jerel!" Sheriff Mills called out in warning as she made her way up to the front desk.
"You two check out but I still don't understand why this is any of the FBI's business." She handed the card back to Sam over the marble countertop then moved just out of sight to open the office's large oak door and stood to one side to allow them entry.
Dean signaled for Sam to stay with the Deputy as the Sheriff motioned him through.
"C'mon back and you can talk to Chris, but only for a few minutes." She closed the door then started for the rear of the building, Dean following at her side.
The strong smell of bleach burned Dean's nose as they walked down the brightly lit, slate gray walled hallway toward a row of cells. As they approached, Dean took note of what appeared to be a few drunks sleeping off their benders and a couple of rough, up to no good types that watched them closely as they passed toward their stopping point in front of a metal door with a tray slot at waist height.
"Didn't wanna put him with the general population." Sheriff Mills explained as she opened the door leading into a drab and not as brightly lit room. "We use this for our special psych inmates. Whenever we get them."
Dean watched as the scruffy young man sat up from the saggy cot, then quickly stood as they entered the cell.
He was almost taller than Dean, with deep set bags under his blue eyes. His large frame was contained in a too-short, orange jailhouse jumpsuit. It would have made him appear older if it wasn't for the pleadingly hopeful way he looked toward the Sheriff. He was every inch the lost kid, barely out of his teens.
"Any news, Sheriff?" He ran a hand through unwashed, greasy blond hair that rivaled Sam's in length.
"Not yet." Sheriff Mills patted the young man's shoulder. "But this is Agent Langly from the FBI and he'd like to ask you a few questions."
"Agent?" Chris questioned, not looking at the pair as he started fiddling with the sleeve of the county issued jumpsuit.
Dean's eyes narrowed at the nervous reaction and he wondered if there really was a case here for him and Sam after all.
/
"So, you seemed pretty adamant about Chris not having anything to do with Beth's disappearance. Why is that?" Sam rested an arm against the desk as the Deputy typed up files into the office's database.
"Because I've known them both since elementary school and Chris would never hurt her." The Deputy turned away from the computer and looked square at Sam. "And like I already said, if he said he saw something else take her, then that's what happened."
Sam looked around the empty lobby then leaned closer. "Something? What exactly did he say he saw?"
*Slam*
The entry door banged loudly against the wall, pulling both of their attention to the front before the question could be answered.
Standing in the doorway was Beth Davidson. Clothes dirt streaked and ruined. Her brown hair matted with massive amounts of mud and red scratches visible on her face and neck.
"Jesus, Beth!" Deputy Jerel grabbed his coat then ran from behind the desk and put it around her shoulders as he led her to sit down in a chair.
Rocking back and forth Beth appeared not to even notice them as she chanted. "They took me. They took me. They took me."
Sam slowly sat down next to the traumatized young woman, keeping enough space between them to keep her comfortable.
"Beth, I need you to tell me who took you." Sam gently placed a hand on her arm to get her attention.
"The lights!" She screamed before starting to rock again.
/
"First things first, I need to know if you and Beth took any type of illegal substances or were drinking the night of her disappearance." Dean leaned casually against the cell's tiny sink. He kept his face calm, nonthreatening, so he wouldn't spook the kid.
"What? No!" Chris shouted, voice shaking as he flopped back down onto the bed and crossed his arms.
But Dean knew a defensive drug user when he saw one. Especially when the kid wouldn't stop fidgeting and he suddenly couldn't keep direct eye contact with either adult in the room.
"Nothing at all?" Dean goaded. "Maybe a couple pills? Smoke a little dope? Snort a little something? I'm not here to pop you on any drug charges, kid. I'm just trying to piece together what happened." Dean put on his best understanding expression and the young man sagged further against the thin jailhouse mattress.
"Fine. Yeah, ok. We smoked some hash after my shift at Legends." Chris huffed in defeat as he wiped a hand across his face.
"I knew that son of a bitch Andy was selling drugs out of that place!" Sheriff Mills' palm slapped loudly against the metal of the bunk.
"Wait, no! I swear, I didn't get it from Andy. It doesn't have anything to do with the store." Chris tacked on as he began to frantically wave his hands at the Sheriff.
"I think I have an idea of what happened here, Sheriff. I've got all I need." Dean looked between the two people in the small enclosed space then pushed himself off from the sink and straightened up.
"What do you mean all you need?" Chris blurted. "You didn't even ask about Beth! It wasn't the drugs! I didn't have anything to do with it. It was the light! The light took her away!" His voice grew louder with each word.
"Chris, I need you to calm down, right now. You're not going anywhere for the moment." Sheriff Mills said as she headed for the cell door.
"Am I in trouble about the drugs? Man, you said I wasn't gonna get in trouble." He shouted as Dean stepped out of the cell with the Sheriff.
"I said you weren't in trouble with the FBI. No jurisdiction over what Sheriff Mills decides to do with that information." Dean shrugged as Sheriff Mills shut the door.
Once it was fully closed he turned to her, "Are you gonna charge him with something?"
"Probably not. But I bet his mother would sure be interested in knowing what her son's been getting up to outside of the house." She nodded as they began walking back down the hallway.
"What's Legends? You seem pretty adamant they were a drug connection." Dean inquired while rubbing a hand over his chin.
"Comic book store on the edge of town." Sheriff Mills explained. "It's owned by Andy Gallagher, one of the town's "fine upstanding citizens" who's been brought in more than once for various drug charges. Always small. Claimed he's absolutely on the straight and narrow and those were just youthful transgressions that were all behind him now."
"Mmmhmm." Dean paused just outside one of the empty cells.
"Sheriff! Sheriff! Get out here! Get out here, quick!" Deputy Jerel's panic stricken voice echoed loudly down the hallway.
Sheriff Mills and Dean traded looks of puzzlement before they both rushed to the front of the office.
"Sweet mother—" Sheriff Mills stopped in the walkway so abruptly that Dean nearly toppled over her.
Sitting in the middle of the chairs lining the left side of the entryway was Beth Davidson. She was shivering under an itchy wool jail blanket, her eyes staring blankly at the opposite wall.
"She just walked through the front door and started shouting about lights taking her." Deputy Jerel told Sheriff Mills as she leaned down in front of the young woman.
"Beth. Hey look at me, kiddo. It's Jody." She soothed a hand over Beth's dirt caked forearm.
Dean watched as Beth reached out from the safety of the blanket with a shaking hand and latched her fingers onto the sleeve of the Sheriff's uniform.
Though Sheriff Mills spoke to her, Beth didn't seem to recognize her any further as she dug fingers deeper into the older woman's shirt until her knuckles turned white from the tight grip.
"Jerel, call her parents." Sheriff Mills ordered before turning her attention fully back to Beth.
Dean and Sam stepped to the other side of the desk, away from the commotion.
"Dude, there's nothing here."
"Dude, there's something here."
The brother's declared at the same time.
"What?" They continued in unison.
"Dean, there's definitely something here. From the way Beth talked, I think it might be fairies." Sam announced in a quiet yet determined voice.
"Fairies? Really, Sam? More like druggies." Dean huffed as he glanced to where the Sheriff was tending to Beth before looking again at his brother.
At the brush off, Sam gave Dean a sour bitch face.
"What? The kid just friggin' told me they were flying high on hash before their close encounter. Sheriff Mills thinks they got it from the comic book store he works at." Dean added as Deputy Jerel walked passed them and attempted to give a cup of water to the still shaking Beth. The cup slipped out of her weak grasp, sending water splashing all over Sheriff Mills and the floor.
"Sorry, Sheriff." Deputy Jerel exclaimed as he hurried to find something to clean the mess up with.
"We should at least check out this comic store. Just to be on the safe side." Sam pointed out.
"Ugh, fine. Let's go fight some fairies!" Dean grumbled as Sam watched Sheriff Mills consoling the shaking young woman.
"Sheriff Mills, can we speak with you for a second?" Sam questioned.
She turned to Sam and Dean then spoke softly to Beth before getting to her feet and joining the brothers.
"You seem to have this under control here. We're fairly certain this is drug related but want to take a look at the comic book shop before we close the case. Do you have the address?" Dean asked as he pulled a notebook out of his coat pocket.
She shook her head. "Not on hand, no. But if you turn right out of the parking lot and take the road till it dead ends, it's the building on the left side of the road. You can't miss it."
Sam stuck a hand out to shake with Sheriff Mills. "Thank you for your time, Sheriff."