A/N: I'd like to thank everyone for following and favoriting this story before and I hope you continue to read it! Also, review! I'd love to know what you guys think!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural
1.
Woman in White
For Whom the Bell Tolls by Metallica jingled in the silent room, startling Hannah awake. She blindly reached for her phone, wincing from the harsh light when she flipped it open.
"Dean Winchester, do you know what time it is?" She could hear Van Halen playing in the background.
"What time is it in South Dakota?" he asked.
"Almost four o'clock, you jerk."
"Aren't you usually so chipper in the morning?" Dean questioned. She could tell he was grinning on the other line.
Hannah rolled over to her side, using her other arm to cover her eyes. "Not when you haven't called me in nearly a year and the one time you do it's at four in the morning."
"You said it was almost four o'clock."
"Don't correct me at this hour, Dean."
He laughed, a sound that made Hannah's heartbeat quicken. She and Dean weren't exactly close. The four-year age difference didn't help. Their personalities were so different that Hannah could easily understand why they weren't close, but Hannah liked to think that they were friends. Not close ones, but friends nevertheless.
"My dad is missing," Dean said suddenly.
"Your dad is missing?" Hannah repeated, removing her arm from over her eyes. "Are you sure?"
"He hasn't answered his phone in weeks, Hannah."
"Well..." She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "Your dad has always been cryptic."
"That's an understatement," he muttered. The song changed to an unfamiliar one. "I think he's getting close to the thing that killed my mom."
"Thing that killed your mom?" Hannah yawned.
Dean snorted. "Does lack of sleep turn you into a parrot?"
She rolled her eyes. "Well, what do you want me to say?"
There was a pause, and Hannah could hear Dean slam his car door shut. Then he said something unexpected:
"Say you'll hit the road with me."
Hannah blinked then blinked again.
Was Dean Winchester actually suggesting that they hunt together?
After their first and last hunt together, Hannah was certain Dean would never want to do a case with her again. Despite her vast knowledge in the supernatural and how to kill it, when it came to hunting Hannah was inexperienced. Her dad was reluctant to let her handle cases alone, and even with him nonetheless. The vampire case she and Dean handled a few years ago had been... messy, so Hannah stuck to research. Still, the idea of defeating some monster herself thrilled her.
"Where are you planning on going?" Hannah inquired.
"California," he answered jauntily.
It took only a minute for Hannah to make the connection.
"That's where Sam lives," she stated.
"Uh-huh." He sounded distracted.
"... Have you talked to Sam abo—"
"I'm going to," Dean interrupted. "Look, Princess, you and I both know that Sammy never got along with our dad, but... he's still our dad and Sam will want to make sure Dad's safe. Don't you want to see him too?"
She ignored the nickname and said, "Of course I want to see Sam. It's been three years."
"Awesome. I'll be in Sioux Falls a day from now," Dean replied, then promptly hung up.
A beat passed before Hannah slowly snapped her phone shut and tossed it on the other side of the bed. She groaned and said aloud, "Great, now I can't go back to sleep."
Dean checked out of the motel he was staying at and made a non-stop drive to Sioux Falls. He had been in New Orleans doing a voodoo case. The case went in an unexpected direction, but everything was fine now.
The moment Dean ended his conversation with Hannah, he regretted his decision to invite her. What was I thinking? Dean wondered.
Hannah Singer was not your typical hunter. She was too nice, too trusting, nothing like the battle-hardened hunters Dean encountered, and how could he forget the disaster with the vampire case? The girl let her guard down for a second and nearly got herself killed. He nearly got her killed. No, Dean couldn't let sweet little Hannah join him and his brother on this dangerous search for his dad. He wouldn't jeopardize the life of Bobby's only kid. Not again.
Bobby's house was a welcoming sight. His place had always been the home Dean never had. The salvage yard was his favorite part of the house. He remembered helping Bobby fix cars when he had been younger, learning all there was to the mechanics. Dean could spend hours fixing and improving his Baby.
She'll probably pout and use those big blues on me, Dean thought as he parked in front of Bobby's house. Hannah's infamous pout worked on Bobby every time, but it wouldn't work on Dean.
"Bobby!" Dean grinned when the front door swung open. He always thought of Bobby as a second father, sometimes even wishing that he was his father, but then he would regret thinking it, feeling like a traitor to his real dad.
"I know I don't have to remind you to take good care of my daughter," Bobby said, stepping aside to let him through the door.
"About that. Bobby, I don't think..." Dean trailed off, his train of thought derailing completely at the sight of Hannah Singer.
Whoa, was the first thing Dean thought. Actually, who was he kidding? The first thing he thought was, when did she get boobs?
It was Hannah, but it wasn't. The baby fat in her cheeks had melted, making her look her age. Her hair skimmed her collarbones, shining like brown silk. The silver hamsa amulet he had given her for her eleventh birthday was tucked between her ample cleavage. That chest… Those curves… It was like an unexpected blow to the face for Dean.
How had Hannah, who had simply been just his childhood friend, become Hannah, this insanely hot twenty-two year old woman?
Then she smiled, and the daze Dean was in vanished. She was still Hannah, the same uptight, bookish little girl he grew up with. Her smile was unlike the ones he usually saw with women her age. Her smile was still innocent, still retained that immeasurable sweetness that he was used to.
"Ready to go?" she asked as she dragged her luggage down the staircase.
Dean swallowed thickly, trying to remember how to speak.
"I think this is too dangerous for you," Dean heard himself say.
"Huh?" She stood in front of him, tilting her head with a puzzled expression on her face.
"Dad's missing and we have no idea how dangerous the thing he's hunting is. You could get hurt bad, Hannah. I hope you know that."
She blinked owlishly. "You think I don't know that?" was her response. "I don't think hunting is just some game, Dean. I hope you know that."
Hannah pushed past him, hauling her luggage with her. Dean stood there, dumbfounded until he heard Bobby snort behind him.
"She sure told you," the older hunter chuckled.
Scowling, Dean said goodbye to Bobby and headed back to the Impala. He helped put her luggage in the trunk and opened the passenger door for her. She went over to hug her dad goodbye for climbing in the car. They were driving for about twenty minutes when she made her first offense.
"What do you think you're doing?" Dean asked, stopping her before she could change the station.
"What do you think? Aren't you tired of Aerosmith?" she questioned.
Dean would have stared at her if he wasn't driving. "You are treading on thin ice, Princess. My car, my rules."
Hannah leaned back, crossing her arms in a huff. Neither said anything for another five minutes until Dean grew uncomfortable with the silence. What did she like? What could they talk about? She graduated, he remembered.
"Um, congrats by the way," Dean said, glancing at her. "On graduating," he clarified, when she gave him a questioning look.
"Oh, thanks!" Hannah brightened at that. "Top of my class."
"I bet." Hannah was a smart girl. That was the major reason for seeking her out. "Did your boyfriend go?"
"My who?" she asked, startled.
He was confused. "Your boyfriend? The idiot you dated in high school?"
"Oh." She relaxed, but Dean was still confused. Why had she gotten scared? "He's not an idiot, and you forgot, didn't you? Ryan and I broke up after high school."
"Good," tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "You could do better."
"Really?" Hannah's voice went soft, and Dean was certain her eyes looked the way she sounded. She had an annoying habit of making everything so sentimental. He couldn't compliment her without her giving him that particular look. The gentle way she would say his name was unbearable.
"I mean, not much better. Not many guys are willing to date a Gorgon."
Hannah's smile dropped. She shoved at his arm and he laughed. That was better.
Driving with Dean had been... interesting to say the least. Hannah swore that Dean loved his Impala a bit too intensely.
Was it possible for someone to get even better looking? Dean had always been handsome, but he lost that boyishness from his teenage years and looked more like a man now... Stop. You are better than this, Hannah thought, refusing to entertain these notions. Dean was still the same immature, childish, man-whore she knew. Not the "bad boy" girls from afar thought he was.
They were finally at Sam's place, a modest looking apartment. Hannah adjusted her cardigan, waiting for Dean to finally speak up. He had been eyeing the apartment for a while now.
"Should we just... knock?" Hannah suggested.
"No." He turned to her, smirking. "Want a beer?"
Without waiting for an answer, Dean climbed out of his car and headed towards the fire escape. Hannah's eyes widened and she scrambled after him. She grabbed his arm, and he whirled, giving her a questioning look.
"What?" he demanded.
"Are you seriously about to climb the fire escape instead of knocking on his door?" she asked, incredulous.
Dean pretended to think about his answer before nodding with an affirmative yes.
"Dean!" Hannah's voice threatened to turn into a whine. "We haven't seen Sam in three years. How do you think he'll respond to us climbing through his window?"
"With uncontained happiness," Dean replied, in a flat voice. "Now come on, Princess! I need a beer."
"I am not your princess!" Hannah snapped. She wanted to stomp her foot out of frustration. "Dean!"
He ignored her, continuing his way up the fire escape to Sam's apartment. Hannah followed him, hissing that he needed to stop. Dean disregarded everything she said, trekking up the escape until he found Sam's window.
"Dean," Hannah warned, then let out a gasp when Dean had the audacity to wink at her before opening Sam's window and climbing inside.
Sighing because she knew this was about to be a catastrophe, Hannah followed Dean inside. She teetered, bumping into the back of Dean who stumbled forward. He glared at her from over his shoulder before motioning her to follow him. They continued towards the kitchen, or at least Hannah thought it was the kitchen. It was so dark she had no idea where she was going, only following the leader.
Hannah leaped back when Dean, without warning, aimed his fist at someone's face. Sam, she realized, cupping her mouth shut with both hands to keep from yelling at them. After some struggling, Dean finally knocked Sam to the floor. He kept one hand at Sam's throat and the other at Sam's wrist.
"Whoa, easy, tiger," Dean said, grinning.
"Dean?" Sam panted, stunned. Dean laughed. "You scared the crap out of me! Wait, I saw another person."
Sam tilted his head back, his deep green eyes widening when he noticed Hannah. She waved mildly.
"Hannah?" He sounded even more surprised.
"Dean, will you get off of Sam?" Hannah asked, stepping towards the entangled brothers.
"Actually, I feel kind of comfy. Hey, Sammy, you make a pretty nice mattress." Dean snickered. Hannah grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him back. "Let go of me, Hannah."
"No. I told you not to climb through Sam's window and what do you do? Exactly what I told you not to do! You could have given him a heart attack, Dean." Hannah peaked over Dean's back at Sam. She smiled sheepishly. "Sorry about this."
"It's fine, Hannah," Sam wheezed.
The lights flicked on, and the three of them turned to see a blonde girl dressed in only a crop top with the Smurfs and pink shorts. Hannah blushed, realizing they must have looked strange. She was in mid-pull when Dean sat up abruptly, causing her to yelp and fall backwards. She smiled and squeaked when Sam helped her to her feet, alarmed by the sheer strength he had. Dusting herself off, Hannah smiled awkwardly in the blonde girl's direction.
"Jess, hey. Dean, Hannah, this is my girlfriend, Jessica," Sam introduced, glancing at everyone.
Hannah refrained from rolling her eyes when she noticed the way Dean's eyes traveled up and down Jess's body. She smiled sympathetically at Sam who seemed just as irritated.
"Wait, your friend from South Dakota Hannah?" Jess asked, looking at Hannah with interest.
"Sorry about the commotion," Hannah apologized. Jess smiled warmly, seeming to forgive her completely.
"And your brother Dean?"
Sam nodded, and Dean moved towards Jess, grinning. "I love the Smurfs," professed Dean. He cocked his head to the side. "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."
Jess gave Sam a questioning look before excusing herself to go put something on.
"No, no, no." Dean stopped her, shaking his head. "I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously."
"Dean," Hannah threatened.
"Calm down, Princess."
"I am not your princess!" Hannah hissed then turned to Sam, wanting to get straight to business. "We need to talk. Right, Dean?"
"Right," Dean agreed for once. He smiled charmingly at Jess. "We gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business, but, uh, nice meeting you."
"No." Sam walked over to his girlfriend and wrapped his arm around her. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of her."
Neither noticed the look Hannah shot Dean.
"Okay. Dad hasn't been home in a few days," Dean started, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
"So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back sooner or later," Sam replied confidently.
Oh Sam, Hannah thought, frowning. Did he despise hunting so much that he was refusing to humor them?
"Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days," Dean clarified.
A myriad of emotions flitted across Sam's face as he let what Dean said sink in. Hannah shifted on her feet, waiting patiently for his response.
"Jess, excuse us." Sam finally said.
Following the boys, Hannah headed downstairs. She wrapped her cardigan more snug around her, feeling the hairs on her arms stiffen from the cool air.
"Come on you guys. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, glancing behind him at Hannah. "And I thought Bobby didn't let you do hunts. I mean, remember the vam—?"
"I remember!" Hannah didn't need to be reminded of the awful first hunt she experienced. "Daddy was reluctant, but he told me to be extra careful."
"I'm also very persuasive," added Dean, waggling his brows.
"You called me at four in morning. My brain wasn't functioning properly."
"Almost four in the morning. How do you keep forgetting that detail?"
They paused, all staring at each other. Dean grew serious as he turned back to his brother.
"You're not hearing me, Sammy," he said. "Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."
Sam gestured to Hannah. She gasped, offended when Dean rolled his eyes at her. "Tell him why you're here."
"To see you," Hannah said to Sam. His face softened. "And to learn more about, you know, hunting."
The research part of hunting was where Hannah excelled, but she wanted to know how to use a shotgun, say she exorcised a demon, save people.
"Dad's always missing," Sam said, eyes meeting Dean's again. "And he's always fine."
"Not for this long. Now are you coming with us or not?" Dean questioned.
"I'm not," Sam answered forcefully.
"Why not?"
"I swore I was done hunting. For good."
"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad," Dean insisted, starting downstairs again. Hannah tried to keep up with their quick strides while making sure her breasts didn't pop out of her bra.
"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a forty-five," Sam argued, then stopped when Hannah missed her footing, catching her from falling.
"Thanks," she whispered, smiling widely. Sam returned it, although his smile was less wide.
Dean halted at the door leading outside. He looked at them. "Well, what was he supposed to do?" he asked Sam.
"I was nine years old!" Sam said, exasperated. "He was supposed to say—"
"Don't be afraid of the dark?" Hannah finished for him. "Don't be so naïve, Sam. We know what's out there, so of course we should be afraid, but that doesn't mean we should run away."
"I didn't run away," Sam told her. "But still, Han. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed. You wouldn't understand. Bobby never made you live in different motels every two weeks. You still have a chance to walk away from all this."
Hannah recoiled. "You think just because I lived in a house in the same place makes me normal? I didn't have any friends, Sam! I was the only person in elementary school who knew that the Boogeyman was real! Some girls started a rumor that I was in a cult because of the anti-possession tattoo I have! Should I tell you more about how not normal my life was, and still is?"
"No," Sam said. There was an apologetic look on his face. "I didn't mean to insult you, Hannah."
She merely turned away, staring at the door.
"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam asked.
Dean opened the door forcefully, holding it briefly so Hannah wouldn't get hit. They continued down a short flight of stairs to the parking lot.
"The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors," Sam said as the three of them crossed the parking lot to the Impala.
"So, what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?" Dean demanded. Hannah watched him warily. The heated tone in his voice made her nervous.
"No. Not normal. Safe," Sam replied.
"And that's why you ran away," Dean stated, echoing Hannah's words. He looked away, his eyes meeting Hannah's briefly. She mouthed, "Calm down." He scoffed and turned back to Sam.
"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone, and that's what I'm doing," Sam explained, shrugging helplessly.
"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If not dead already. I can feel it," Dean responded. Sam said nothing. "We can't do this alone."
Sam scoffed. "Yes you can."
"Sam," Hannah begged. "Please just do this. If not for your dad then for Dean."
Hannah chewed her lower lip, staring at him with pleading eyes. She heard Sam mutter, "Oh no."
He let his head fall then looked back up at both Hannah and Dean, sighing. "What was he hunting?"
With a smirk, Dean opened the trunk to the Impala, informing Sam of what John Winchester was last hunting before he disappeared. Hannah smiled gratefully at Sam who only sighed again.
While Sam went back to his apartment to pack a duffel bag, Hannah sat on the hood of the Impala. Dean leaned against it, his body close to hers. She looked cold, but she didn't ask for his jacket and he didn't offer it.
As subtly as he could, he let his gaze wander down to her cleavage. Her breasts seemed to be straining against her white tank top underneath her cardigan. When did she get such a rack? Maybe she always had a chest like that and he just never noticed. Dean hadn't seen her in person for the last couple months. Hannah had been busy with school too, so their visits were usually short.
That would easily explain why Dean never noticed Hannah's development.
It was a strange feeling for Dean. He always saw Hannah as a little girl, so naïve and sweet. Now he couldn't even remember how she looked as a little girl, all because she was stacked.
"What are you staring at?" Dean froze, realizing how unsubtle he had been in ogling Hannah's chest.
"Your necklace," he replied deftly. "You still wear that old thing?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Hannah fingered the thin silver chain. "You gave it to me for my birthday, remember?"
"I remember. Doesn't mean you have to wear it."
Hannah smiled and nudged him playfully. "Of course I have to wear it! It's the nicest gift you've ever given me."
"It's the only gift I've ever given you," Dean pointed out.
"Still nice." Hannah shrugged, not in the least upset over that fact. She smiled, and guilt overwhelmed Dean. Did she have to be so nice all the time?
Sam returned, carrying a duffel bag and a reluctant look on his face. Dean tried not to smirk. He didn't think he'd ever see the day he was glad that Hannah used her infamous pout. Sam stood no chance, caving in once she pouted and used those big blues on him.
Sliding into the driver's seat, he waited for Sam and Hannah to climb in. Turning up the radio, he started their drive towards Jericho, California.
Hannah woke up with a knot in her neck. Slowly, she lifted her face from the window in the backseat of the Impala, rubbing her groggy eyes. When her vision cleared, she realized that they were at a gas station.
Sam was still in the passenger seat, rummaging through Dean's cassettes. He noticed Hannah and smiled at her. "Morning."
"Morning," she forced out, her voice hoarse. "Mm, where's Dean?"
"Right here," said a familiar, husky voice. "You guys want breakfast?"
She and Sam peaked out the window to see Dean carrying junk food. Hannah held out her hand and was about to grasp a granola bar when Dean pulled back, waving it in her face with a smirk.
"What's the magic word?" he asked.
"Dean," she whined.
"I don't think that's it, but that's nice of you to think my name is magic, Princess," Dean joked. Hannah chewed her lower lip, too tired to upbraid him for the annoying nickname. "Fine. You're no fun when you just wake up, anyway."
Smiling, Hannah opened her granola bar and nibbled a piece off. She tuned out the boys as she ate her "breakfast." It wasn't until she heard "update" and "tape" in the same sentence did she listen.
"Sam's right. You really should update your music," Hannah spoke up. She rolled her eyes. "Do you know how many times I had to listen to AC/DC on the way here?"
"Well, house rules, kids," Dean said, about to put the tape into the cassette player. "Driver picks music, shotgun shuts his piehole, and backseat doesn't say shit."
Hannah narrowed her eyes. Hastily, she rifled through her purse to find a tape that she loved so dearly. Handing it to Sam, he glanced at it then grinned in Hannah's direction.
"Uh, Dean, why not play this one?" Sam didn't even wait, taking the tape out himself and putting in the one Hannah gave him.
"Hey!" Dean turned on the engine to the Impala. "What the...?"
"Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want. So tell me what you want, what you really really want. I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want. So tell me what you want, what you really really want—"
Dean turned off the radio and turned to gape at Hannah with a flustered look on his face. Hannah didn't know whether she should laugh or not.
"I'm tempted to throw your ass out of this fucking car for pulling that bull—!"
"Dean, calm down!" Sam exclaimed, laughing.
"Spice Girls is a classic!" Hannah said defensively. "If you had a CD player we could play some Britney Spears..."
A beat passed before Dean blurted out, "Hannah, are you possessed?"
Sam guffawed from the sheer absurdity of it all, and Hannah couldn't blame him.
"Check it out," Hannah said, looking ahead.
Dean followed her gaze, observing the police cars by the bridge. He pulled the Impala over to the side of the road.
The three of them stared for a while before Dean turned off the engine and reached over to the glove compartment. She knew he kept the fake IDs in there. Most of them had his and John Winchester's faces on them. Her dad had promised to make some for her and would have them ready by the time she returned from this case.
"Hannah, stay here," Dean told her, blocking her from getting out.
"Why?" Hannah asked.
"You're not familiar with pretending to be an FBI agent, remember?" He poked her forehead with two of his fingers. Hannah swatted his hand away. "Watch and learn, Princess."
"Not your princess," Hannah retorted lazily.
The two Winchesters traipsed over to the police, leaving Hannah to wait in the Impala. Great, she thought, bothered that Dean didn't trust her completely. Couldn't he put that vampire case behind them?
After a couple of minutes of interrogating, the boys headed back to the car. "Learn anything?" Hannah asked them.
"Nope. Police are clueless," Sam answered as he buckled himself in. "Got any ideas, Han?"
"Vengeful ghost?" Hannah guessed.
"Well, that's something," Dean said, starting the engine. "We're gonna find Troy's girlfriend, Amy. She might know something." He looked back at Hannah and smirked in her direction. "And you don't have to wait in the car."
Hannah narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing. She'd get her revenge with some Spice Girls.
They found Amy easily.
She was posting up MISSING posters with Troy's face when they approached her. Hannah looked at Dean questioningly when he draped his arm over her shoulders and brought her closer.
"Just go with it," he murmured then stopped when they reached Amy. "You must be Amy."
"Yeah," she said cautiously.
"Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy." Dean ignored the glare Sam sent him.
"And you?" Amy eyed Hannah.
"His girlfriend. I'm Hannah," Hannah said, gesturing to Dean who grinned in response.
They spoke to her for a bit and eventually settled in a nearby diner. Dean kept his arm around her the whole time. It was weird. Dean hated any sort of affection, cringing each time Hannah or Sam attempted to hug him. Even if it wasn't Dean, Hannah would still feel strange. It was distracting. The weight of his arm on her. His body close to hers. She hadn't been this close to a man since Warren.
Warren was… he… she couldn't think about him. Not now. Why was she thinking about him anyway? Dean was right next to her. Hannah blushed. No, that was worse. She refused to think about Dean in any manner other than her friend.
"Hey, you alright?" Hannah froze when Dean's voice reverberated through her skull. His face was so close to hers. She could turn her head and kiss him if she wanted—not that she wanted to.
"I'm fine," she replied quietly. She turned her attention back to Amy and her friend.
"Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk," Amy's friend said.
"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean asked in unison. Hannah suppressed a smile. She always found the boys especially cute when they spoke simultaneously.
"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago," Amy's friend told them in a hushed voice. Dean's eyes flitted to Hannah's, seeming impressed with Hannah's accurate guess. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever she picks up? Well, they disappear forever."
She, Sam, and Dean exchanged furtive looks.
Hannah and Sam watched as Dean typed "female murder hitchhiking" in the search box. There were zero results. Dean replaced "hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway." Zero results again.
"Let me try," Sam offered, reaching over to use the keyboard. Dean smacked his hand away.
"I got it," growled Dean.
Sam stared at him then shoved him out of his chair. Hannah giggled, biting her lower lip when Dean shot her a dirty look. He punched Sam in the shoulder as he got to his feet. Sam didn't notice.
"Dude! You are such a control freak!" Dean snapped.
"We are in a library, remember?" Hannah hissed, glancing around to check if they were disturbing anyone.
Dean rolled his eyes. "You were laughing just a second ago!"
"Guys," Sam called, interrupting their dispute. "So angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?"
"Yeah," Hannah and Dean said at the same time, although Dean's voice sounded bored.
"Well, maybe it's not murder," Sam proposed, replacing "murder" with "suicide." There was only one source. Sam clicked on it, and she and Dean leaned forward to read the article. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."
Hannah stared at the picture of Constance Welch. She was beautiful, with olive skin, dark eyes, and dark brown wavy hair. She frowned as she read the article. Drowned her kids. Sounds like a familiar legend in Mexico, mused Hannah.
"Hey!" Hannah ducked when Dean began ruffling her hair.
"We're heading to Sylvania Bridge, Space Cadet," Dean informed her.
"Right." Hannah closed the browser on the computer and followed the boys out of the library. "So, how do we take down this ghost if she's drowned? Her husband must have buried her body at the local cemetery."
"We'll figure that out after we check out the bridge," Dean said as he fished for his car keys.
"We're not going to burn the bridge down, are we?" Hannah questioned, her eyes widening. "We need a plan, Dean."
Dean blocked Sam from opening the passenger seat door, thus stopping Hannah from climbing in the backseat. Hannah held Dean's scrutinizing gaze, waiting patiently for his response.
"Winchesters don't plan anything," Dean stated, ignoring Sam who shook his head. "We wouldn't get shit done if we just sat around and planned everything, so get used to it, Princess."
Heat rushed to Hannah's cheeks. She opened her mouth to object, but she could only sputter out nonsense. Hannah hastily closed her mouth, refusing to embarrass herself further.
Sam moved his seat, allowing Hannah to get inside the Impala. "You'll get used to it if you travel with him longer," he told her.
"I hope not," Hannah sighed.
It was night by the time they reached the bridge. Hannah swallowed down her dread and followed the boys as they walked along the empty bridge. She fingered the silver chain around her neck, looking around for Constance Welch.
"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean said as they looked over the railing. Hannah frowned at his insensitivity. "What?"
"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam inquired. He turned to them, waiting for Dean's response.
"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him," Dean replied, walking forward. Hannah walked beside him, crossing her arms.
"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked.
"Now we keep digging until we find him. It might take a while," Dean said, slowing down his pace. Hannah glanced behind her, hoping they wouldn't get into another fight.
These boys are worse than teenage girls, Hannah observed. They fought over the littlest things, but the argument blooming now sounded a lot bigger than their normal squabbles.
"Dean," Sam started plaintively. "I told you guys, I've gotta be back by—"
The only sounds Hannah heard were her own ankle boots. She whirled, noticing that Dean had stopped walking and was facing Sam. She chewed her lower lip, preparing herself for another fight.
"Monday," he finished for him. "Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"
Sam looked at her, as if she could do something about him. Hannah could only shrug helplessly. She wasn't prepared for Dean to bring up the elephant in the room either.
"Maybe," Sam finally said. "Why not?"
"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean questioned.
"No, and she's not ever going to," Sam said sharply, stepping towards Dean in a stiff stance.
"Well, that's healthy," Dean quipped. Hannah could tell there was a mocking smile growing on his face. "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 around and walked past Hannah. She grabbed his arm and was jerked forward when he barely paused.
"Dean, stop it," Hannah said quietly.
"No, I won't," Dean snapped, glaring at her.
"Getting him mad won't make him stay, you know," Hannah hissed, then jumped when a hand dropped to her shoulder. She looked over her shoulder and saw it was Sam.
"It's fine, Hannah," he said, glaring at Dean. "And who's that, Dean?"
"One of us." Dean motioned to the three of them.
Sam hurried to stand in front of Dean, his scowl fierce. "No. I'm not like you. This isn't going to be my life."
As much as Hannah wanted to side with Sam, she just couldn't. There was no escaping the hunting lifestyle. You were either born into it or it was thrusted upon you. Her dad was forced to become one after her mom died. Hannah once had the same views as Sam, refusing to accept her fate as a hunter, but growing up knowing that these creatures were real and out there harming others, it didn't settle well with her.
She preferred to think on the bright side. At least she could save people.
"You have a responsibility—"
"To Dad and his crusade?" Sam exploded. "If "To Dad and his crusade?" Sam exploded, "If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like."
"Sam," Hannah gasped.
"Please, Hannah, don't tell me you know what your mom looks like. I don't see Bobby going on a witch hunt for the demon that killed his wife." Sam frowned at her. "What happened, Hannah? You were a student at one of the most prestigious universities in the U.S. You could do something better with your life. And what difference does it make? Even if we do find the things that killed our moms, they're gone. And they're not coming back."
Dean grabbed Sam by the collar and shoved him against the metal beam of the bridge. Hannah rushed over to them, but Dean held out his arm to block her.
"Don't talk about our mom or hers like that," Dean flared after a pregnant pause. He took a step back, releasing Sam roughly.
"Guys," Hannah said, the seriousness in her voice calling their attention instantly. "Look."
A woman in a white dress stood at the edge of the bridge. Constance, Hannah realized. Her heart hammered in her chest when Constance looked at them then stepped forward off the bridge. Hannah ran over to the railing first, the boys following a close minute after her.
"Where'd she go?" Hannah asked, looking at them. She hoped her voice didn't betray how frightened she was.
"I don't know," Sam said, sounding more confused than scared.
The roar of an engine startled Hannah. She spun around to see the headlights of the Impala. Hannah, Sam, and Dean exchanged worried glances.
"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked Dean, bewildered.
Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out his car keys. Hannah's eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. It was her. It was Constance driving the car.
The tires screeched and the car was in motion. She felt someone grab her arm, shaking her out of her trance. Hannah ran as fast as she could, but the car sounded like it was getting closer and closer to them. Sam looked at her and jerked his head over to the railing. Hannah shook her head, but with the Impala gaining on them, Hannah whimpered and ran over to the railing. She screamed as she dived over it.
Before she landed in the water, she saw Dean falling as well. The water was thick with mud as she swam to the shore, dragging Dean with her. They crawled out of the water, Dean coughing while Hannah spitting out mud.
"Thanks," she heard Dean say between coughs.
"No problem," Hannah said then groaned. "I feel disgusting."
He stared at her, his green eyes popping out against the mud covering his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but Sam's voice came out instead.
"Dean! Hannah!" called Sam from above.
"What?" Dean shouted, annoyed.
"Hey! Are you guys alright?"
"I'm super. What about you, Hannah?" Dean answered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Hannah let out a shaky laugh. "I've had better."
Dean snorted and staggered to his feet. Hannah shivered as she stood, hating how filthy she felt. The walk to the car had been quiet with the exception of Dean grumbling about how he was going to "gank that Constance bitch."
She laughed lightly when Dean sprinted over to his car to inspect it. Sam arrived a couple minutes later.
"I'm so sorry," Sam said, referring to the mud.
"Better than getting ran over," Hannah replied, smiling at him. "I reek, don't I?"
He nodded, and they chuckled. Dean slammed the hood of the Impala down and leaned against it. Sam slowly approached his brother while Hannah followed.
"Your car all right?" he inquired.
"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now," Dean said, crossing his arms. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!"
Hannah elbowed Dean as she leaned against the hood. "I told you we needed a plan. Now look at us!"
"Hannah's right," Sam agreed, settling on the next on the other side of Dean. "She doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job from here, genius?"
Dean threw his arms up in frustration, flicking mud at Hannah who flinched away.
"The article said she was married, right?" Hannah asked Sam.
"Yeah."
"We could talk to the husband."
"What, you mean right now?" Dean asked her in disbelief.
"Dean, you smell like a toilet," Sam remarked. He blocked the driver's seat from Dean. "Whoa, hey! Do you really want to mess up the interior of your car?"
"It'll already be messed up now move, Sammy," Dean growled.
"Just let him drive, Dean," Hannah urged, pushing herself off the hood. "We'll clean it tomorrow. Now can we just go to a motel? We're giving Oscar the Grouch a run for his money."
He must have been too tired to argue because he handed Sam the keys without a fight.
"One room, please," Dean told the clerk at the front desk of the lobby.
The clerk studied the three of them dubiously. Hannah was certain he wondering why in the world she and Dean covered from head to two in dirt while Sam stood behind them awkwardly.
"You three having a reunion or something?" the clerk asked while looking at Dean's Mastercard.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked him.
"I had another guy, Burt Aframin. He came and bought out a room for the whole month," explained the clerk.
He handed Dean back the Mastercard and the three trudged to their motel room.
"Hey, I'm going to get changed. When you two are done checking out your dad's room, do you mind bringing me my clothes from the car?" Hannah asked, eager to rid herself of the dry mud on her.
"Yeah, sure," Sam said, nodding distractedly as he picked the lock.
"Yes, Dean?" Hannah raised an eyebrow at Dean who stared at her with an inscrutable expression.
Dean blinked then shook his head, waving a dismissive hand at her. Weird, she thought then shrugged it off. Hannah unlocked their room door and made a beeline for the bathroom, locking it behind her and stripping immediately.
The shower took nearly an hour since the dirt had dried on her by the time they reached the motel. Hannah hummed Britney Spears' I'm a Slave 4 U as she lathered conditioner into her hair. Steam shrouded the inside of the bathroom when she finally turned off the shower.
Her pale skin was tinged with pink from the hot water. Wrapping a towel securely around her body after drying herself with it, Hannah squeezed water from her hair over the sink before tentatively opening the door. She frowned when she realized the boys hadn't returned from John's room yet. The last thing Hannah wanted was for Dean to just walk in here and see her half na—
The door swung open, and Dean strolled in. Sam followed closely behind, carrying Hannah's luggage. Dean froze at the sight of her, his jaw going slack. An awkward silence fell over them. Without hesitation, Hannah grabbed the luggage and would have dashed back into the bathroom if it wasn't so heavy.
"Thanks!" she called as she slammed the door behind her. "Oh my God."
Why am I embarrassed anyway? I used to be a swimmer, I've showed more skin than I was showing out there, Hannah wondered. Maybe it was just being half naked in front of Dean that made her feel so self-conscious.
After changing her clothes, Hannah shyly opened the bathroom door. "Did you guys find anything?" she asked, bringing her luggage over to the foot of one of the beds.
"Well, we found out that Constance is a woman in white," Sam answered, looking at her. "All her victims are cheaters."
"If John was here, wouldn't he have destroyed her corpse?" Hannah questioned.
"That's what I said," Dean said.
Hannah adjusted her hamsa amulet. "Looks like we'll have to talk to her husband."
"Yeah, before we do, uh, I'm gonna grab a bite to eat in that diner across the street. You guys want anything?" Dean said, getting up from the edge of the bed.
"Nothing for me," Sam declined, shaking his head.
"Strawberry milkshake, please!" Hannah said, smiling at him.
Dean looked like he wanted to laugh at her. "You are such a kid."
He left the motel room, and not long after that did Sam's phone ring. Hannah watched him, noticing the confusion drawn on his face. She followed him as he went over to the window. She let out a small gasp when she saw Dean get apprehended by the police. Dean fidgeted and glanced in their direction. Hannah swallowed thickly and darted away from the window when the sheriff jerked his thumb at their motel room.
"Come on," Sam urged, leading Hannah away. "Dean says to find Dad without him. We'll bail him out later."
Reluctantly, Hannah climbed out of the bathroom window after Sam, pouting the entire time. It wasn't until they were in the Impala did he speak.
"Dean's going to be fine, Han," Sam assured her.
"It's not him. I just really wanted a milkshake," Hannah mumbled petulantly.
Sam stared at her incredulously before shaking his head.
After much bugging, Hannah managed to convince Sam to let her drive the Impala to the abandoned house on Breckenridge road.
Dean called by the time the sky had darkened. "Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal."
"Your welcome," Hannah said as Sam put the phone on speaker. She and Sam shared a grin.
"You're on speaker," Sam informed him.
"Listen, we gotta talk."
"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white," Hannah updated, practically bouncing in the driver's seat.
"And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop," Sam added, grinning at her.
"Would you guys shut up for a second?"
"I just can't figure out why John hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Hannah pondered aloud.
"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you guys. He's gone. Dad left Jericho," Dean revealed.
"What? How do you know that?" Sam asked, creasing his brows.
"I've got his journal."
Sam looked at Hannah, frowning. "He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."
"Yeah, well, he did this time."
"What does it say?" Hannah inquired, keeping her eyes on the road.
"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap when he wants to let us know where he's going," Dean answered, sounding flummoxed with the whole situation.
"Coordinates? Where to?" Hannah asked.
"I'm not sure."
"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?" Sam said, worry coloring his voice.
Hannah gasped hen she noticed a woman standing in the middle of the road. She slammed the brake, bringing the car to a screeching halt as it slowed down right through the woman. Sam dropped his phone to the ground, looking around wildly. The only sounds Hannah could hear was her and Sam's heavy breathing. She looked in the rearview mirror and gasped. Constance sat in the back seat, glaring at her.
"Take me home," she demanded. Hannah didn't move, only meeting Sam's anxious green eyes. "Take me home!"
"No," Sam said firmly.
The doors locked themselves shut. Hannah tried to reopen hers while Sam did the same, but they stayed shut.
"Don't move, Hannah," Sam commanded. The gas pedal pressed down and the car started to drive by itself. "I said don't move!"
"I'm not! It's her!" Hannah gestured to the ghost in the back. She tried to steer the wheel, but to no avail. "Constance, you don't have to do this."
She ignored them and drove the car faster until they pulled up in front of the abandoned house. The engine shut off, and the darkness surrounded them. Hannah's heart beat so loudly that she was sure Constance could hear it.
"I can never go home," murmured Constance.
"You're scared to go home," Sam figured.
Hannah glanced at the rearview mirror, noticing that Constance was gone. She reappeared, straddling Sam. He struggled as Constance shoved him back so hard that the seat reclined. Iron. I need iron, thought Hannah, trying not to panic. She needed to get to the trunk, but the doors were still locked.
"Hold me. I'm so cold," Constance breathed, pressing her body against his.
"You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful! I've never been!" Sam stated, still resisting her.
"You will be. Just hold me." She grabbed Sam's face and kissed him forcefully. Hannah leaned back in her seat and kicked Constance in her side, knocking her against the window.
Her face flickered, and Hannah widened her eyes. For the briefest of moments, Hannah saw Constance's true visage. Before Constance could attack her, gunshots went off shattering the window on Sam's side. Constance vanished a couple times.
Time to take her home, thought Hannah, determined to end this before Sam got even more hurt. Hannah turned on the engine and smashed the Impala through the side of the house. She smacked her face against the wheel, and a searing pain blinded her for a moment.
"Sam! Hannah! You guys okay?" Dean's voice sounded distant.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but Hannah forced out a feeble yes. She heard the driver's door open and arms around her, hoisting her out of the car.
"Sam?" Hannah called out weakly.
"I'm good, Hannah. I just need help getting out," Sam assured her, coughing.
"Hey." Hannah looked up, the dizziness fading. Dean stared at her, concern plain on his face. Oh, that face. She was glad he was holding her. Hannah didn't think she could ignore him if he was staring at her like that. "Ouch. You're bleeding, Princess."
Hannah touched her forehead gingerly and felt something sticky. "I'm not..." She steadied herself against the car. "Go help Sam."
"I'm surprised you didn't get knocked out," Dean noted, going over to help his brother.
"My cranium is like titanium," Hannah joked, then winced. She hoped she wasn't concussed. Her eyes went to Constance, watching as she picked up a framed picture. "Guys?"
Constance looked at them then sent a dresser at the boys, pinning them against the Impala. Hannah moved quickly, ignoring the pain in her head. She reached for Dean's fallen gun, but stopped when the lights flickered. Water cascaded down the stairs. Constance stopped, fearful but she glided over to the bottom of the staircase. At the top, were a boy and a girl holding hands.
"You've come home to us, Mommy," they said in unison.
The woman in white was distraught, the guilt finally overwhelming her. The children faded then flickered behind her. They embraced her tightly, and Constance threw her head back as she wailed, an agonizing sound to Hannah's ears. In a surge of energy, Constance's screaming form and her two children began to dissolve, melting into a puddle into the floor.
Hannah winced when she heard Sam and Dean move the dresser away from them. Dean went over to the spot where Constance vanished.
"So this is where she drowned her kids," he said.
"That's why she could never go home. She was too scared of them," Hannah put together.
"You found her weak spot. Nice work." Dean pounded his fist on Sam's chest as he walked past him. Sam laughed, but his chuckling waned into a groan.
"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you," Sam said, after getting over the pain. "What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"
"Hey, saved your asses," Dean pointed out. He pointed at Hannah. "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you."
Hannah tilted her head back laughing while Sam grinned.
"Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado," Sam told them.
"Sounds charming," quipped Dean from the driver's seat.
"How far?" Hannah asked, giggling at Dean. She kept an ice pack on her forehead, buying one from a convenience store on the way back from the abandoned house.
"About six hundred miles," Sam answered, looking in the backseat. He smiled sympathetically when he saw her pout.
"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning," Dean said.
It was like the wind was knocked out of Hannah, her smile diminishing the longer Sam hesitated. How had she forgotten Sam's interview? The three together, it felt like old times, but Hannah swallowed back her disappointment. She wouldn't interfere with Sam's happiness.
"Dean, I, um..." Sam couldn't get the words out.
"You're not going." Dean sounded like he knew the answer.
"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there," Sam reminded him.
Dean nodded, turning his attention back to the road. Hannah frowned, wishing she could cheer him up, but knew better than to do it at that moment. Dean seemed more tolerable of her when it was just the two of them. After all, he didn't even want her dad or Sam to see him give her the hamsa amulet for her eleventh birthday.
"Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home," Dean told him. Sam glanced at Hannah before turning off the flashlight.
The rest of the drive was spent in silence. Finally, they reached Sam's apartment. Hannah watched unhappily as Sam got out, listening as he opened the trunk for his duffel bag then closing it shut. She leaned forward when he returned to look through the window.
"Call me if you find him?"
"Of course," Hannah promised.
"And maybe I could meet up with you guys later, huh?" Sam suggested.
"Yeah, all right," Dean said, emotion threatening to reveal itself in his voice.
Sam nodded then turned to head inside, but Dean called him back.
"You know, we made a hell of a team back there," Dean said, putting one arm over the back of the passenger seat.
"Yeah," Sam agreed, almost regretfully.
"Hey, wait." Hannah climbed out of the backseat and went around to hug Sam. He pulled her back fiercely, murmuring for her to watch over his brother. She leaned up and kissed his cheek before returning to the passenger seat. "Bye, Sam."
Dean turned the keys in the ignition and drove off. Hesitantly, Hannah touched Dean's arm. He glanced at her, his eyes guarded.
"What?" he asked flatly.
"Dean, I know you miss him and it's okay that you do." She squeezed his arm gently. "You don't have to do this alone. I mean, no one should."
He didn't say anything. Hannah was about to let go of him and settle back when he finally spoke.
"Why didn't you do what he did?" he questioned.
"Huh?"
"On the bridge, Sam said you went to some top-notch school. Why are you hunting? Why aren't you living the apple pie life like him?"
She wasn't expecting him to ask her that.
"Because living the apple-pie life isn't for me," Hannah said softly. "Didn't you feel weird going to school knowing what you know while everyone else was completely oblivious? I did and I still do. I just can't pretend that there are no demons around, and I can't know everything I do without helping people. So that's why I'm not living some apple-pie life, Dean."
Dean glanced at her from the road. He pulled over into a liquor store parking lot. Dean sat silent for a while, then finally turned to face her. "Hunting is a thankless job, Hannah," he said, somber. "The law is not on our side. People think we're devil-worshipers. This thing we do? It's not fun."
"Most jobs aren't," Hannah countered. "I want to help people yet you and Daddy act so overprotective of me. Do you think I'm not capable of taking care of myself?"
"No," Dean answered at once. "It's not that."
"Then what is it?" she urged, eager to hear.
"You're just so... nice," he said lamely.
Hannah burst out laughing, but swiftly covered it up with a rather unconvincing cough. Dean scowled at her.
"You done?" he asked her. "It may sound silly—"
"It does," Hannah interjected.
"But kindness is a weakness."
"Being kind doesn't make you weak."
"It does when you're hunting," Dean insisted. "It changes you. That vampire case? You almost died, Hannah. I'm surprised you aren't suffering that shit soldiers have after the war. I—we can't let that happen again. Okay?"
"Dean…" Hannah knew he cared, but hearing his say it made something soft unfurl across her heart.
Dean leaned back, rolling his eyes. "Don't Dean me and start that sappy shit, Hannah."
His entire body stiffened when she careened forward, throwing her arms around his neck to hug him. He smelled of leather and musk. His body was warm and nice against hers, even if the position was awkward. She just wished he'd relax and hug her back, but Hannah might have fainted if he did.
"You won't let go if I hug you back, will you?"
"Please?"
"You're the worst."
Dean put one arm around her back, reaching up to pat the back of her head. He wiggled out of her embrace shortly afterwards.
He was about to turn the key in the ignition when he paused. "What is it?" Hannah asked.
"I don't know, it's just a... a gut feeling. Maybe we should go back," Dean suggested, glancing back at her.
"To Sam?"
Dean nodded.
Hannah gestured for him to drive and he obliged. She chewed her lower lip, wondering if Sam was in trouble. Dean had a knack for knowing when someone was in trouble. By the time they reached Sam's apartment, they noticed smoke coming from the window.
They rushed out of the Impala and ran upstairs to his apartment. Dean kicked the door down, yelling for Sam. Hannah noticed that the fire was coming from the bedroom. She covered her mouth with her arm, coughing as she went over to Sam.
She gasped when she looked up at the ceiling. Jess was pinned there and her entire body was consumed by flames.
"Sam, come on!" Hannah shouted, grabbing him.
"No! No!" Sam screamed, still struggling as Dean pushed him out the door. Hannah followed closely behind, tears pricking her eyes from the sound of Sam's cries.
As soon as they escaped, the apartment was engulfed by flames. Sam stopped fighting, and he let out a choked sob. He collapsed to the ground, muttering Jess's name over and over again. Hannah sat down next to him and pulled him into her arms. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer as he cried in her neck.
Hannah rubbed his back soothingly, silent. There was nothing she could say at the moment that could comfort him.
The fire department arrived, and after a while, Sam's weeping stopped. He let go of Hannah and stood up abruptly. Hannah watched from the ground as he opened the trunk to the Impala, widening her eyes when he began loading a shotgun. She exchanged a worried look with Dean.
Sighing, Sam put the shotgun back in the trunk then slammed it shut.
"We got work to do."
She wasn't sure if her goosebumps were from the death of Sam's girlfriend or his ominous words.
A/N: Here is a cast of my OCs.
Alison Brie as Hannah Singer
Mary-Louise Parker as Jackie Winchester
Alexandra Breckenridge as Abigail
Tessa Thompson as Egypt