A/N: This story contains two OCs (original characters). I don't own anything recognizable. I only lay claim to Holly and Serenity Kasakabe as creations of myself and my friend who co-wrote this story with me.
Full Summary: Holly and Serenity Kasakabe - astonishingly accomplished twin sisters. They've never been too afraid of the dark. What do they do when a couple of brothers show them there's more to fear than they'd ever dreamed? Add to that a father who mastered his disappearing act, a woman who won't stay gone, the voices that only Holly can hear, and a supernatural monster or two and it's no wonder that they're reaching their limit. Everyone knows that once you start hunting, you can't stop. Everything that goes up must come down, so how high can the sisters fly before they crash down, and the Winchesters have to pick up the pieces? Story spans the entirety of the first season and is titled after the Daughtry song of the same name.
When I was growing up, I'd never believed in the supernatural.
Like most kids, I enjoyed it, and when I was a teen I loved horror movies and thriller novels. I loved to read about supernatural monsters, demons, and ghouls until the reading levels made it to a more murderous content and it ended up getting a bit too close to home. Serenity and I live with murder all the time, why make it more complicated by paranoia of a fear of the dark? Even if it's irrational it's harder to think with more adrenaline. Besides, why bring home what we can leave at the workplace? Neither of us like to talk about our jobs, out of a mutual respect for each other. We understand we both have unpleasant jobs, even though we wouldn't stop doing them, and we also respect that we're on opposite ends of the spectrum.
But that's all it ever was: fictions.
Still, we loved to read about it when we were younger. I was always content to read scary stories online or purchase horror novels at the bookstore and fill my instant queue, but Serenity went several steps further. She was never like a television occult freak, but she did get into it for a while. She kept grips with reality but she read up as much as she could when she got the opportunity, and she retained the knowledge she'd gathered even when her interest faded and her hobbies changed.
So now we have a pretty big problem on our hands: What do you do when everything that you believe to be false is suddenly true?
Because that whole "fiction at home, reality in career" was kind of a ruined phrase when our work suddenly became all about those horror novels and scary movies and supernatural folklores. I never considered myself easily gullible (no matter what Serenity says otherwise) but when I was given that proof, I was frightened, because how many times had I or someone I cared about been in danger because of my ignorance?
So, luckily for us, when we were introduced to this world, Serenity and I had help from a pair of brothers who taught us how to defend ourselves and others and helped us learn more about the world around us. And that became our life for quite a while. And while it's not exactly a walk in the park compared to our normal jobs, it is quite a change of pace to take a break from realism and instead deal with the supernatural.
"Can we go yet?" My twin Serenity sighed, leaning against the hood of a crime scene. Crime scene, in this circumstance, refers to a car - a small blue convertible that really wasn't as cozy as it sounded.
Serenity and I are both nineteen. While we are twin sisters, we're dizygotic twins - meaning that we don't necessarily look alike. She likes to lord over me that she was born first, making her technically older, although it means pretty much nothing. She's a couple of inches taller and her eyes are typically green while mine are blue, but our hair would be the same color if we hadn't dyed it. I say typically about her eyes because sometimes, depending on lighting and the color of the clothes she's wearing, they look kind of blue-ish.
Our hair used to be black, but a long time ago, when we were kids, she tried to dye hers white and red and I tried to dye mine blonde. Since then we've never had the patience to let it grow out naturally, so we've chemically treated our hair enough to actually need shampoo for color treatment. Currently, hers is a bright blue from SPLAT brand dye, but mine is a sort of light ginger.
I'm five foot five, give or take an inch or two, and last time Serenity had a physical exam, she was five foot seven. I envy her that height although there's really no reason to - there's not really anything she can commonly reach that I can't and her life isn't actually made easier by it.
We do dress similarly, though, when going out casually - neither of us especially like dresses or skirts. We'd just as soon wear jeans, graphic tees, jackets, and either sneakers or boots the rest of our lives - except I usually have to wear pantsuits with a black jacket to seem more professional.
Serenity and I grew up pretty much on our own. Our parents both died when we were little. Sure, we had a guardian technically raising us, but by the time our mom died when we were seven, we didn't care to bond with any adults. Neither of us are that social so we just kept to ourselves for the most part. We only usually interact with other people when we have to or if we're bored or otherwise interested. We registered for emancipation when we were fifteen, and we got tired of being told what to do.
Jericho, California is not a place I've ever been before. It is a relatively small town where everyone knows everyone's name. Not my ideal city, but I suppose it works if you like having people around you. Understand that neither of us Kasakabes would be here if there wasn't a particularly interesting case that had actually managed to catch the attention of the both of us.
By "case" I mean investigation. It should be ridiculous, but I'm nineteen and an FBI SSA. I still wonder how it happened, but Serenity and I skipped a couple grades in middle school and then did most of high school online. It made it a lot easier to get jobs started. I made a name for myself in law enforcement, and a good one, at that. A lot of people know who I am, less because of my authority and more because of my accomplishments despite my youth. It's not that I'm some freak prodigy - I'll be the first to admit I'm really good at my job, and I give it a hundred percent, but while I was making my name and turning my future career goals into present realities, I never had many obstacles that couldn't be overcome by talking to superiors. It was a fast climb, dizzying at times.
As for Serenity, she's also pretty powerful for her age, except… well. Not in the FBI, that's for sure. Rather the opposite, she works in the mafia. It's not like she's the big boss responsible for everything, but she does have a lot of influence. In the organized crime department, she's got a promise of safety for the both of us so long as I keep the FBI off of her trail, and, by extension, I turn a blind eye to the snipers she contacts and the hits she occasionally assists.
The upholstery of the convertible was covered in blood, darkened into a burgundy and crimson red that stained the velvet seats and painted the windows with great splotches. The body had been removed, but some man in his twenties had owned the car. There was no evidence of anyone else, nor was there a murder weapon.
It wasn't the only case like it. Nearly a dozen murders in similar situations through the past decades had been committed along the same five-mile stretch of road surrounding the bridge over the lake that the car was parked on. It was truly an interesting murder, unlike some of the ones where it's quite clear that it was the estranged father or the disgruntled, jealous lover or just some psychopath with a sick mind game going on.
"Almost, Serenity," I replied with a roll of my eyes. I love her but her impatience has gotten old a long time ago. "Five more minutes."
She sighed loudly for dramatic effect but didn't complain, instead moving to lean over the rail of the bridge and watch the water rush over the rocks down below.
There were four other officers with us. Two were wearing gear and were stationed down in the rushing water, searching for evidence of any sort with detectors and sonar equipments. The other two, both local deputies, were inspecting the car with me. While I leaned over the passenger's seat, trying to ignore the stench of blood, Deputy Jaffe leaned over the driver's side. Deputy Hein, who was more inclined to talk and hover than do anything useful, was chilling by the trunk aside from when he occasionally yelled to ask the forensics if they'd found anything and always got a negative answer.
"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless." Hein shook his head and I tried to mostly tune him out as I pulled back out of the car. "It's almost too clean."
I rolled my eyes. There's no such thing as a 'clean' or 'spotless' crime scene. "So, this kid, Troy. He was dating your daughter, wasn't he?" Jaffe asked Hein with an air of polite conversation.
I looked over the people casually. Two men were sauntering along the bridge and towards us like they thought they were royalty. I raised my eyebrows at them - the taller one wore jeans and a long brown leather jacket, and his short hair was slightly spiked like he'd used hair product. The other had soft hair that curved over his forehead and wore jeans and a button-up shirt, a much more tame outfit than the other. The younger-looking one seemed about trying to fit in while the older seemed more like he couldn't care less what anyone thought of him. They were around the same age but there was definitely a couple years' difference, however they looked similar enough to have been brothers. The only jewelry that either of them wore was a necklace with a pendant tucked under the 'rebel's' shirt.
"Yeah," Hein nodded slightly, looking away from Jaffe at the turn of the conversation.
"How's Amy doing?"
Like I said - everyone knows everyone.
"She's putting up missing posters downtown."
Makes sense. Better to be hopeful than to assume your boyfriend's dead - that's how most people would think, anyway. It's not like we found the body, but I highly doubt that he lost this much blood and survived.
The older stranger stopped by the trunk of the car. They really seemed comfortable here, like they belonged. The younger brother stopped next to Thing One.
Thing Two was clean-shaven and had very soft, almost fragile features. It didn't detract from his appearance, just made him look a bit younger and a bit more innocent than he probably was. He looked like your average guy. College, maybe? Thing One, on the other hand, was more rugged, with sharper looks that made him seem older than the other.
"You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?" Thing One asked, looking about to prop his elbow on the top of the car. He thought better of it.
I raised my eyebrows. "Due diligence and all that - Who are you?"
Thing One held up a brown leather wallet and flipped it open for just a moment, letting me see the badge long enough to identify that it was an FBI ID and that he matched the picture, but not long enough to be completely sure of its authenticity. "Federal marshals."
Jaffe looked over at Hein and the latter smirked while Jaffe chuckled. "You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?"
Thing Two laughed a bit and Thing One returned the veiled insult with a charismatic smile. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you."
"Oh, grow up," Serenity told Jaffe, already irritated with him. It probably didn't help that he'd tried to push her away from the car's scene already.
"You did have another one just like this, correct?" Thing One prompted me.
I eyed him and crossed my arms. "Hm. Yeah, there was another about a mile off the bridge."
Thing Two cocked his head at Jaffe, ignoring the prods at their ages and credentials. "So, the victim - you knew him?"
"In a town like this, everybody knows everybody," Jaffe explained with a shrug. Evidently this didn't bother him half as much as it did Serenity and I, big-city-lovers.
"Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Thing One pressed, trying to sound casual.
Shouldn't federal marshals already know this stuff from files they read before they're sent out into the field? Also, shouldn't they look more the part? Yes, yes they probably should. Well, if they don't look, talk, or act the part, then they're probably a replica.
"Not that the local P.D. has found," I responded, crossing my arms over my chest and watching them for any signs of deceit.
"So what's the theory?"
"No idea," I lied bluntly. It was clearly murder and/or kidnapping, given the evidence. "Serial murderer, kidnapping ring, human trafficking, et cetera."
Thing One gave a big, faux smile at everyone that nearly felt contagious. I half wanted to smile now, too, because it did seem genuine and radiated friendly charm. "Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys."
Thing Two didn't approve of this, and he stomped on Thing One's foot as hard as he could while smiling pleasantly to me. "Thank you for your time."
Thing One nodded to me after Thing Two turned around to walk the other way, and as he turned when he thought I wasn't looking, he made a face of immense pain and irritation that really did make me smile.
Serenity waited until they were halfway off of the bridge before she moved up to me and nodded towards them. "We're going to follow them, aren't we?"
"You've got it," I muttered to her, before turning to the deputies. "Email me," I ordered them with my best attempt at a sincere smile. "I'll be in touch."
"Wake me up with a phone call before nine and I'll shoot you all," Serenity added as a precaution as we fell into step beside each other. I slid my fingers under the rims of the plastic latex crime scene gloves before pulling back and stripping them off with a snap, throwing them into one of the waste bins on the side of the bridge road.
We had to walk pretty fast to catch up to Thing One and Thing Two but they weren't walking at rocket-speed to begin with, anyway, so who cares? I could hear Thing One's voice moving back towards Serenity and I with the wind, anyway. "Come on," he sighed in exasperation to Thing Two, who walked side by side with him. "They don't really know what's going on!"
"He faked the vocal inflection," Serenity murmured softly to me. I noticed it too but it was nice to tell that I wasn't the only person who wasn't a complete moron. I love having Serenity help me out sometimes. Indeed, Thing One did not sound nearly as local as he had a moment ago.
"We're all alone on this," Thing One continued. If either of them noticed the Kasakabe sisters following them, they didn't comment. "I mean, if we're going to find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."
Dad? Missing persons. Well, that would be the reason for fraud. Ourselves? No mention of mother, so she'd either dead or estranged. Which does also imply that they're brothers.
Thing Two finally cleared his throat and stopped walking, turning directly around. Thing One looked at him for a minute before following in the other's lead and turning to Serenity and I.
"Hello again," Serenity greeted with an actual grin. "Kudos. You nearly had us."
"You asked too many basic questions," I agreed. "And there was the badge flashed too quickly, so you were close."
Thing One and Thing Two exchanged another look. I could tell by looking at them that they were tensing. "Misses, we were just leaving," Thing Two started slightly nervously.
I waved my hand at them dismissively, interrupting them with about as much care as I had. "Forget about it," I told them bluntly. "You didn't ask for any information you couldn't have gotten through the papers or public relations, so you have personal motivations. That makes it much less dangerous."
"I suggest we just take it from the top and this time you tell us who you are and what you want before you get arrested for fraud," Serenity advised lightheartedly, already thinking ahead to avoid any panic.
I held out my hand to Thing One, who seemed to be leading Thing Two for the most part in this part of whatever their operation was. "SSA Holly Kasakabe."
"Serenity Kasakabe," Serenity added, crossing her arms and giving them both her characteristic smirk.
The boys both exchanged a long look. I let my hand fall back to my side and waited for them to come to a decision. Finally, they both kind of sighed and Thing One moved to wave at me. "I'm Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam."
I smiled. "Good, you're cooperating!"
"What did you mean about finding your dad?" Serenity asked, moving straight towards the business side of things. She kept her cool really well and looked over her shoulder, ensuring that no one was close enough to overhear. We can be cruel and manipulative when we need to be, but it's not exactly something we enjoy. Serenity and I really don't want to be bitches, we just don't usually have a choice.
"You probably wouldn't believe us," Sam pointed out with a slight wince.
Serenity gave them her patented 'don't be stupid' look. "Try us."
"Our dad's gone out on a hunting trip and he hasn't called in a few days," Dean explained shortly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. I had the feeling that he was leaving something out but hey, at least they're giving us something to work with. "We think it might have something to do with the recent murders."
"You have reason to believe he'd been out here?" I asked curiously. "GPS, phone, vehicle, paper trail?"
"He told us - him - he'd be coming out to Jericho." Sam looked back over to the bridge. I could tell something was on his mind, and he seemed pretty stressed, but then, if his dad is missing, then that's okay. "We're just concerned."
"There haven't been any bodies found," I said softly, trying to be kind of tactful. Aside from lying about their identities (and I'm not exactly innocent of that, either) they seemed like okay guys. "Even though that means there is a variable of possibility, it also makes it hard to tell what steps to take in the investigation. But if you'd like to give me your phone numbers, I can give you a call if we find anything," I offered, tacking it on like a bit of an afterthought.
Dean and Sam exchanged another look and seemed to have an entire argument and come to a consensus with absolutely no words in about two seconds flat. Siblings for the win. I lost track of how many times that Serenity and I have done that.
Finally, Dean looked back to me and smiled almost apologetically. "Actually, we're doing a little poking around ourselves, so we'll probably figure out some things for ourselves, but your care is appreciated." The apologetic smile turned into an innocent little charm smile. "That is, unless you'd like to help us and keep us in line. You get insight to one of the missing peoples and we get the help of the law," he rationalized, still giving me that grin.
I couldn't help but smile slightly. I wasn't mesmerized by his looks, but it was always amusing when someone tried that on me, mostly because it had never worked and it was silly to think that they thought it would work on me. "Don't try to charm me," I warned, shaking my head at him slightly while trying not to smirk. I looked over to Serenity - at least if we went with them, we wouldn't be bored. "What do you think, Ser?"
Serenity looked over the boys appraisingly and gave me a thumbs-up. "What the hell? It could be fun." She shrugged like she didn't care, but I knew that she was interested in the idea.
I looked back to Dean and Sam. Dean was smirking expectantly at me and Sam's smile was almost apprehensive. "We're in."
"I'll bet you that's her." Dean slid his sunglasses off his face while he pointed at a long-haired young adult pinning up flyers of the recent victim's car in an almost manic rush.
"Fair guess," I agreed, leaning against the boys' car. They drive a sleek black Impala that seats five. It's very cool although the upholstery carries a slight scent of gunpowder. Still, it's a nice ride. Gunpowder doesn't bother me. "She's by a cafe," I closed my eyes and began reciting out of memory what I'd been told once when I joined the FBI. "It's not her home but it's not ours, either. Let's just ask her in there instead of asking her to come back to the police office. She'll be more comfortable and open up faster." I advised the boys more than I did Serenity; although this isn't her usual game, Serenity is no stranger to interrogations and she knows the same types of tactics as I do for the most part.
I opened my eyes and blinked, looking around. Neither Sam or Dean had bothered sticking around long enough to hear me finish talking, and Serenity must have gotten either bored or suddenly infatuated with one of the boys, because she had followed them. I glared at them across the street for a moment while Dean leaned against the wall next to Amy's most recently-posted flyer before muttering under my breath and following.
When I got to their earshot, I heard Dean introducing himself and his brother with that natural, subtly manipulative charisma. "We're his uncles - I'm Dean, this is Sammy."
Serenity smiled and gave a half-wave in polite acknowledgment before introducing herself to the girl. "My name's Serenity. I'm a family friend."
Amy looked them over coldly. Her eyes were bloodshot and red - I wasn't sure whether it was from crying or lack of sleep, although to be fair, it was probably both. "He never mentioned you to me." Her voice was steady, admirably so considering the turmoil showing through her fidgety body language.
I sensed she was about to turn away so I interrupted, smiling slightly, nonthreateningly. "My name is SSA Holly Kasakabe. Amy, I'm investigating your boyfriend's disappearance. Serenity is my sister and Dean and Sam are assisting with the investigation, so if you'd like to accompany us into the diner to answer a few questions, your assistance would be much appreciated."
Of course, no one thinks an FBI agent is a danger to innocent people, so after looking like she was about to run and watching the boys closely, she seemed to decide that they weren't likely to kidnap her from right in front of me. She nodded slightly, looking down and waiting for me to lead inside.
"What's the last contact you had with your boyfriend?" I asked softly, keeping my voice down in the restaurant. Sitting in an isolated booth, Serenity was sandwiched between the Winchesters while I sat between Amy and the wall. This was deliberate - to give her the ability to run away but trusting her not to spoke volumes to one's safety.
"I was on the phone with Troy." Amy was remarkably calm, considering the fervor with which she'd been hanging flyers. I swear, there are about two dozen on this block alone. "He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and… he never did." Her voice broke slightly. Sam slid a napkin across the table to her and she looked to him shyly for a moment before picking it up and dabbing tears away from her eyes without smearing her makeup.
"Did he say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked gently.
Amy took a moment to go through her conversation before she blinked her eyes shut and shook her head. "No. Nothing that I can remember."
"I like your necklace," Serenity commented. It may seem irrelevant, and… actually, it kind of is, but it should stop the waterworks for a minute. Neither of us are very comfortable with crying, and the only crying people we know how to comfort is each other. Our methods of comfort are quite unorthodox. We cringe away from sentimentality… to feel better, we usually binge on junkfood and watch TV that either scares the hell out of us or that features people being horrifically murdered.
Amy raised her hand to her necklace, a black leather cord with a pendant of a pentagram in a silver circle dangling just over her shirt. "Troy gave it to me," she explained with a watery, hesitant smile. She laughed. "Mostly to scare my parents with all of that devil stuff."
Sam laughed, too, and Dean looked over at him to see what was so funny. Sam smiled at Amy. "Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. It's really powerful." There sounded like a scuff under the table and Sam flinched slightly. I raised my eyebrows at Dean, who ignored the gesture. "I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing," Sam added lamely.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries." The older brother leaned forward over the table and Serenity and Sam followed suit so that they didn't miss what he said. "Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right, so if you've heard anything, Amy-"
Amy looked down and her eyes fell on the table.
"What is it?" I asked suddenly, knowingly, interrupting Dean.
Amy blushed. Serenity raised her eyebrows at the woman, expecting something silly and trivial. My hopes weren't exactly high, either. "Well, it's just…" Amy stopped for a moment. "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."
We did that 'sibling' thing again. Serenity and I spoke at the exact same time, saying the exact same thing, and curiously enough, Dean and Sam did it, too, so the four of us all said in complete synchrony: "What do they talk about?"
Amy blinked but wrote off the 'sibling phenomena.' "It's kind of this local legend," she explained, her blush fading slightly. So she didn't want to look stupid for believing in an urban legend. "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial Highway, like, decades ago." Sam nodded attentively, being a polite audience. "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well… they disappear forever."
The Winchesters' suggestion of going to the library was not followed up with a reason, but it worked for me nonetheless. Sam and Serenity were dragged by Dean and I back to the Impala and then to the local library, where Dean and Sam claimed a computer surrounded by racks and shelves of periodicals and newspaper copies, while I moved to talk to the manager and asked for any copies of obituaries. Although I don't believe in hauntings, it was possible that someone was copycatting and making it look like a ghost was committing the murders for the sake of the urban legend. It's happened before and it certainly will happen again in the future.
I grabbed my pile of obituaries and moved back to join the Winchesters and Serenity, who were using the technology of the computer to search keywords in the online archives of the local newspaper, the Jericho Herald. "Any luck?" I asked, tossing the short stack of papers onto the desk next to the computer and sitting down in the chair on the right of Dean while Sam was on his brother's left. Serenity stood over Sam and leaned against his chair.
The search bar in the browser had the words "female murder hitchhiking" typed in and underneath the number was results was zilch. That was a pretty good answer for me.
"How do you think?" Dean asked sarcastically, before highlighting "hitchhiking" and replacing it with "Centennial Highway." He clicked go and received the same number of results: none.
Sam leaned over towards the keyboard. "Let me try."
Dean spent a millisecond glaring at his younger brother's hand before he smacked it with an audible noise. "I got it!"
Sam rolled his eyes and yanked back Dean's chair, then knelt in front of the computer. I shared a look with Serenity. They really were a lot like us. "Dude!" Dean snapped. "You're such a control freak!"
Sam ignored the hit he got to the shoulder for taking away his brother's job and his fingers hovered lightly over the buttons in the keyboard. "So… angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"
"Yeah." Dean huffed and crossed his arms but stood behind my chair, letting Sam work.
"Well, maybe it's not murder…" Sam murmured.
I scoffed and looked off to the side. Please, tell me I'm not mostly alone in a library with lunatics. They'd seemed sane earlier… I looked back to see Sam highlighting "murder" and replacing it with "suicide." "Boys, please. Believe me, we're dealing with a real, flesh-and-blood person, not Casper the Unfriendly Ghost."
"You'd be surprised what's really out there… in the dark." Dean muttered, leaning to see the computer screen.
Sam scanned over the result. This time there actually was one - an old article from April of 1981 titled "Suicide on Centennial." He clicked on it, ignoring what I'd said, and scrolled down to the article.
I only read the first paragraph before I decided that it was irrelevant to the investigation to read further. A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, twenty-four, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile thirty-three of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night.
"Look, Sam, this is pointless," I tried to reason, reaching over his arms and hitting the escape button. "The story's sad, yes, but unless it's a copycat it's a waste of our time. And if it's a suicide then it can't be a copycat."
Sam just maximized the window again. "Please, Holly, just let us do this."
I tried to give him my patented 'schoolteacher' look, as Serenity dubbed it, but the look of earnest pleading in Sam's eyes made me sigh and lean back in my chair to play along.
"Does it say why she jumped?" Serenity asked. Even if she wasn't interested, she was willing to humor her new friends, even if they were acting a bit insane.
"Yeah," Sam nodded slowly. "An hour before they found her, she calls nine-one-one. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die."
"''Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch.''" I read off of the screen, looking away and sighing. I hate reading things like this. It's not like there's anything I can do about it, so what's the point in depressing myself with them?
"Hm." Dean glanced over at me for a second before pointing to the picture of Sylvania bridge, the same one where Troy's car had been found and decorated with blood. "Does the bridge look familiar to anyone else?"
"Let's not stay for long," I cautioned, closing the door to the Impala. The slam echoed over the lake below and the wooden structure of the bridge made it eerie, lit up only with the light from the moon. Sylvania bridge is long - not as long as the Golden Gate Bridge, but still quite a lengthy stretch. The beams are spread far apart and the rails are only about a foot away from the edge.
"Why? Are you scared of the dark?" Serenity taunted, giving me a punch in the arm. "Don't worry, Nellie, we've got big, strong men to protect us." Sarcasm dripped off of her words like poison.
I rolled my eyes, laughing. "No, but the bridge isn't in use for a reason, and it won't look good for civilians to be at a crime scene." I pointedly glanced at the Winchester boys.
"Ah, we're used to getting in trouble. Concern is nice, though." Dean sent me a charm smile again and I exhaled a long-suffering sigh. He stopped about halfway in the bridge and leaned against the wooden railing, crossing his arms over the top and leaning over to look at the water. It was dark and dirty and the moonlight reflected over the rippling sloshes over rocks and sand. "So, this is where Constance took the swan dive."
"I still don't see how this is relevant." I sidled up to Dean's left and looked over the edge with him, biting my lip. "I'm pushing to let you guys out here, but investigating Constance Welch's suicide isn't going to help this case!"
"Is that all this is to you?" Dean asked me suddenly, turning his head so he looked to me. We were almost nose-to-nose when he leant over and I was close enough to see moonlight reflect from his eyes. "A case? Nothing more?"
I huffed slightly and looked back out to the water. "Well, yeah! What else would it be?"
"People have actually lost their lives," he murmured grimly.
I looked back to him, realizing what the question had actually meant. Are you really human? Do you see anything besides a puzzle? What are these people's lives worth to you? "Well, yeah, I know that. But there's nothing I can do about a girl that died nearly twenty-five years ago. It's sad but I can't help her." I looked back to him, meeting his eyes again. I need to convey that I do feel, just not in the same way. "The difference between us, aside from really the obvious, is that I think differently. You think of people as people, humans with lives and loves. I only think of them that way if they have a relation to me." I shrugged and blinked, looking down before I realized that that meant I was looking at his chest, and I looked back up to his face. "I'm not coldhearted. My mind just works differently."
"Right." He seemed to realize he was making me uncomfortable. Unlike most guys, who would crow in pride at unsettling one of the unshakable Kasakabe sisters, Dean let the subject drop.
"Do you think your dad would have been here?" I asked softly, trying to be tactful, but the fact remains that he's looking for his dad and that's the only reason we ever met.
Dean turned back to the water and I did the same. "Well, he was chasing this story and we're chasing him."
I nodded. "Right. Logic follows that solving this puzzle will give you another piece to yours."
"Life is a puzzle. Might as well solve as many as possible to make it worth your time." Dean looked over and gave me a lopsided smile. I smiled back at him simply because of it - it wasn't that 'I'm hot and irresistible' smile he'd given me when he was trying to get something for himself. It was a sincere, 'I'm happy at the moment, thanks for making me that way' grin. I leaned over to the side and bumped our shoulders together. "I guess after this we'll just keep digging until we find him. It might take a while."
"Well…" I paused and reached into my back pocket, getting a card from the small supply I kept with me. I always try to carry ten to twenty in case I need to give someone a way to contact me in a hurry, like a suspect or a potential victim. I passed one over to the older Winchester. "Keep that with you." I looked back over the water, knowing he was listening. "Because after we find the person behind this, Serenity and I will probably split town, go somewhere with another puzzle waiting for us, with only the edges and the rest needing filled in. We never stay with anyone for very long. But if you or Sam need something, then give me a call. We'll figure something out to help."
Dean took the card with slight surprise but tucked it safely into his jacket pocket before zipping it up to protect it from elements or falling out. "Thanks."
After that we fell into a sort of silence. I'm not sure why the boys wanted to come out to the bridge but Dean seemed content for the moment as it was, and so I wasn't about to object. It was peaceful. We weren't touching but we were very close to each other, close enough for us to feel each other's body heat, and I could smell his cologne. But we didn't talk, just stared at the rough water surface.
As Serenity and Sam talked by the hood of the car, I caught a few words - from what I gathered, Sam had a girlfriend back home in Stanford, California who he meant to return to and he had a job interview on Monday. He didn't want to go back to the way things had been before he went to college, and his dad hadn't been to close to either of the boys since their mom died when they were kids. They still hadn't caught the murderer and their dad had been searching for him ever since.
I didn't mean to listen in. I really don't. But years of being constantly in danger have made me hypervigilant at the best of times, and even if I'm having my own conversation I hear words and sounds, and then I piece things together and get all of this information. Serenity and I are easy to talk to if we like you, because if we like you then we put an effort into being compassionate. If we had the patience we could probably pass as therapists.
So I was pretty jarred when I got a rough nudge from Dean and his arm found its way around me to pull me back next to him and slightly behind. "What are you doing?!" I cried, feeling assaulted. His fingers curled into my hip and kept me in place.
"Sam!" Dean called over his shoulder, his grip on me not slackening. I started to struggle; I trusted him and now he's manhandling me and calling out for his brother. Is he a threat now? But Dean didn't let me run and instead pointed down the bridge. "Just look!" He hissed.
I stopped and followed his orders and my eyes widened. Suddenly I realized why he'd grabbed me so tightly and kept me from running - I would have ran away from the car and therefore straight down the bridge towards the woman who had come out of nowhere. He wasn't trying to hurt me, he had been trying to protect me.
A thin woman with knotted, long black hair stood on the railing, her feet bare. She was clothed in only a long, ragged, torn white dress the billowed behind her. But there's not any wind. Her face was pale, gaunt, her eyes sunken and dark. She looked out of breath, high or drunk, and stared, transfixed, at Dean, giving him what seemed almost like a… seductive, needy expression. And not needy as in "I need everything from shelter to hugs," but needy as in… the sexual kind.
"What the hell are you doing, lady?!" Serenity shouted, jumping up from where she'd been seated comfortably on the hood of the Winchesters' car. "Get off of the rail before you kill yourself!"
I noticed everything about her. The temperature was dropped and she… she… she had no shadow. I could see Dean's, and mine, on the concrete but the woman was absolutely shadow-less, her arms outstretched to a couple of beams. Her hair and dress blew but there was no wind to blow it. And she had suddenly managed to get halfway through the bridge and climb onto the rail without anyone noticing - not even Serenity or I! That's next to impossible! It all made me recoil and cringe back against Dean, who crossed his other arm in front of me in case I would try to run.
"Where did she come from?" I whimpered. Everything about her was just wrong. And I can't trust many people; the only thing besides my sister that I can always, always trust are my senses, but right now the feedback I'm getting is impossible, so it's like an overload and it's terrifying.
What bothered me the most was that the woman was identical to the pictures of Constance Welch.
She looked at us emptily for a long moment before she let her fingers drag over the wooden beams on either side and she let herself fall forward over the edge of the bridge.
"Hey!" I screamed and suddenly pushed myself out of Dean's arms. He was surprised enough for me to get away and start to run after the girl, pushing myself to move through the frigid air.
Dean cursed behind me and I heard his footsteps as he started after me, followed by more pounding as Serenity and Sam joined in. I reached the point where the woman had thrown herself off and lurched over the edge, eyes searching the water frantically. There was nothing to suggest she was there and she wasn't dangling off the edge of the bridge. No body in the water, no break in the ripples.
"Where did she go?!" I demanded when Dean reached me. He didn't answer, instead grasping the back of my sweater and pulling me back away from the edge. "She was right there! She fell! When did she get here, where did she go?"
"I don't know," I heard Serenity say, shaking her head.
Dean turned me so I was facing him and set his hands on my shoulders. "Holly. Listen." I tried to ignore him, craning my neck to look over the bridge again. If the fall hadn't killed her she could be drowning now but where was she?! Dean's voice snapped me back when he spoke a bit rougher. "Look at me!" I looked back to him, breathing quickly and panicking. "She's not there. I don't know what it was but you can't help her. Just breathe."
"Nellie, calm down," Serenity tried to help, her hand on my back. "She's gone." I forced myself to close my eyes and slow down my breathing before I started to hyperventilate. "It's alright. She's not there."
The Impala's engine started, the low rumbling cutting through the background noise of the waves while the headlights snapped on and illuminated the bridge. Dean's hands slipped off my shoulders as he twisted to look. "What the-"
"Uh…" Sam started. I did an inventory - Serenity, Sam, Dean, and I. None of us were driving… "Who's driving your car?" Sam hit the nail on the head.
Dean didn't answer, but reached into his pocket and lifted up his keyring, letting them dangle together for a minute, clinking and jingling. I glanced at them and then back to the car. "Oh… reassuring."
The car jerked into motion and started off at about twenty to thirty miles an hour. "Uh…" I started dumbly, as the headlights bounced back and the light reflected the silhouette of absolutely no one driving the car.
"Run!" Serenity yelled.
We all turned tail and ran away down the bridge, but the roaring of the engine only seemed to grow louder. I chanced a look over my shoulder - no matter how much ground passed under my feet, the car was still gaining far too fast for comfort. At this rate it would hit us, and while I'm terrified and confused, I think keeping my life is a bit more important than understanding why a car is trying to kill us. "Over the rail!"
We all moved for the rails. Dean kicked up onto the top rail and then jumped off, doing a swan dive down into the water about ten to twenty meters down. Sam grabbed the top rail and swung his legs up over it, landing awkwardly and sliding along the edge to hug a support beam. Serenity jumped over and latched tightly onto one of the lower beams running through the posts, her knees nearly touching the ground and one of her feet hanging out over the edge. I vaulted it but overshot and caught myself on a protruding metal pipe from underneath the bridge.
I shut my eyes, swinging back and forth while the rumbling of the engine reached a loud point before stopping entirely all at once. The headlights cut and plunged us all into darkness again.
"...Is it done being berserk?" I called quietly, half afraid that, despite the impossibility, it would hear me and roar to life again just to prove me wrong. My eyes took a minute to adjust to only having the moonlight again.
"Think so," Sam panted. "Dean!"
Dean's voice called up from down below. "I'm good!" It sounded like he spat something - probably filthy lake water - out of his mouth. "A bit wet, but I'm good!"
Serenity grunted slightly as she straightened up and leaned over the hood of the car. It didn't start again and I saw her feet move as she pushed herself back over the rail. "Hang in there, Holly," she advised.
I looked down to the choppy water and my grasp on the metal pipe tightened. "Believe me, I really wasn't intending on taking a swim."
It didn't take long for Serenity and Sam to get back onto the bridge, and once they were safe, I swung deliberately until I kicked my leg up and my heel caught on the edge of the bridge. Fumbling to push myself up, I grasped the rail with one hand and pulled until I was laying on the edge. Serenity leaned over and helped me to stand up with my back to the drop and Sam slipped one arm around my back and lifted me over the rails.
"You're bleeding," Serenity pointed out to me. "There's a cut on your finger."
I grimaced, raising my hand to press my fingers to my lips. I tasted the metallic of blood almost immediately. "Damn. I must have cut myself trying to get up again."
"Dean?" Sam shouted, leaning over the side. "Dean!"
I turned around, ignoring the cut and looked over to see Dean crawling up onto the shore. I could already see that the mud and filthy water slicked over Dean's clothes and face. His voice was clearly annoyed when he shouted back, "What?!"
"You alright?"
Dean panted, rolling over to lie half out of the water on his back. He lifted one hand up to make the 'A-OK' sign with his fingers. "I'm super!"
Dean slammed the hood of the Impala down and I handed him a towel before sticking my finger in my mouth and sucking the blood away. There was no point in helping an infection to set in. "Wipe off your face, man." There was only so much they could do about the clothes but Dean's worries seemed to be more of his car than himself, once he established no one was hurt. "Is the car alright or do I need to call someone to pick us up?"
Dean rubbed his face with the towel, getting most of the filth off of his cheeks, chin, and nose before wiping his hands with it. "Whatever she did to it, it seems alright now." He turned around and leaned against the car, staring into the night almost challengingly. "That Constance chick - what a bitch!" He yelled, kicking his leg and scuffing his shoe on the ground.
"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure," Sam agreed. He leaned against the side of the car with his arm on the roof. "So, where's the job go from here, genius?"
"Wait, she? Constance? As in, Constance Welch, the chick that committed suicide twenty-five years ago?" Serenity sighed and rolled her eyes, pushing her hair out of her face with one hand. "What, are you blaming a long-dead woman for jumping off a bridge and then a car going haywire and nearly killing us?"
"The car didn't go haywire." Despite what I'd seen with the woman who disappeared as soon as she'd disappeared, I have to remain calm and rational. I'm not crazy enough to say that it was all a hallucination - no one can have the same hallucination, let alone four people at once - but something odd had happened. "It must have been hotwired or something."
"Holly, no one could have come to the bridge without us noticing. We were close enough to the car until the girl threw herself off and we weren't gone long enough for anyone to hotwire it. Besides, the doors were all locked once we got out, and we would have heard someone breaking the material to get to the wires from the outside," Serenity argued.
I hung my head. There's nothing I can do to argue with that impeccable logic. "Then why did it move?" I glared at the automobile. "And what was that woman? She just came out of thin air and then disappeared. Even after Dean fell, he still surfaced. The human body is buoyant as long as they're inhaling oxygen and struggling. No one can die of oxygen starvation or water inhalation that quickly."
Sam and Dean both exchanged a look before Dean talked behind me, laying a hand on my shoulder in complete seriousness. "Holly, I think you should stay with us for a while. You and Serenity, both. That woman… that was Constance Welch."