Once Upon A Winchester
by
Alobear
Timeline:
I've taken the start of Supernatural Season 8 Episode 16 "Remember The Titans" but then sent the boys on an entirely different case.
The story takes place across Once Upon A Time Season 2 Episodes 14 "Manhattan", 15 "The Queen Is Dead" and 16 "The Miller's Daughter", so major spoilers for those are included. I have, however, tweaked the events somewhat, so timings and actual specifics are not how they occurred on the show (where would be the fun in that, after all?). Plus, I conceived the story idea before watching Season 2 Episode 17 "Welcome To Storybrooke", so Greg Mendell's background and interests in Storybrooke are not taken into account at all.
Rated: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just playing!
Chapter One
Dean sauntered into what had become the breakfast room at the secret lair, wearing his robe and clutching a cup of coffee. He was still revelling in the significant improvement in their lodgings; Sam might be mostly focused on the arcane lore they now had at their fingertips, but Dean was more interested in having his own room and a few creature comforts.
He glanced up to see Sam bending over the sink.
"What's up with you?" he asked.
Sam had been twitchy ever since the incident with the hellhound and his passing of the first trial. Dean couldn't blame him – he was still annoyed and anxious about how that had turned out himself – but he was worried there was more wrong with Sam than just the responsibility of task ahead.
Sam straightened hurriedly and spun round to face his brother.
"Nothing," he claimed, though his studied innocence didn't fool Dean for a second. Dean really didn't want to get into it right then, though; he'd had enough of fighting with Sam in the last weeks and months.
"Heard from Kevin?" he asked, letting Sam off the hook for the time being and sitting down to drink his coffee.
"Uh, no, nothing yet," Sam said.
"What's it been, like, three weeks?" Dean said in frustration. "What's taking that brainiac so long? It's a book – read it!"
Sam walked over to the table, his ridiculous height causing him to loom over Dean.
"Just a guess," he said, reasonably, "but translating an ancient language with no help might be more difficult than we think."
Dean knew Sam was right, but that didn't do anything to alleviate his frustration. If taking on the trials was doing something to Sam that he was hiding from his brother, Dean just wanted to get them over and done with as soon as possible. Plus, hanging around doing nothing had never been his strong point. He sighed.
"So, no word from Cas, Kevin's taking his sweet time, and you're acting cagey." Sam gave him a sharp look at that, but didn't take the bait, so Dean let it drop again. "We need a lead, to stop us from climbing these walls."
"Well, in that case," Sam said, "I think I may have something."
"Yeah?" Dean queried. "What is it?"
"Take a look at this," Sam said, sitting down at the table and pulling his laptop towards him. He pulled up a browser and went to a familiar website.
Dean leaned over to see the screen. Sam hit a key and a video started playing. It showed an attractive, dark-haired woman talking to a younger, confused-looking woman in a hospital bed. As Dean watched, the older woman waved her hand and the younger one fell back onto her pillows, apparently asleep. Another wave of the hand, and a purse rose from the side table, its contents floating out and circling in mid air for a few moments. The older woman plucked a piece of card from the air with a satisfied smile on her face, and the recording ended.
"A You Tube video?" Dean scoffed. "Really?"
Sam crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his older brother.
"There's more to it than that," he protested. "Just hear me out."
Dean raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug, nodding at Sam to go on.
"I've had a few hits of weird stuff supposedly going on at this little town in Maine," Sam said. "There's a guy who claims he lived there until the whole town suddenly went crazy and started thinking they were fairytale characters come to life. His friends tried to convince him that he was one of the seven dwarves."
Dean felt his eyebrows go up. "And he's…?"
"Five foot six," Sam said, guessing immediately where his brother's thought train had gone.
"Huh." Dean still wasn't convinced. "So, mass hallucinations affecting a whole town. Little weird, I grant you."
"I just tagged it for interest at the time," Sam continued. "It didn't seem worth actually investigating, but now more stuff has come up. A guy was driving through the area and got into a car accident on the outskirts of the town. He says he saw someone throw a fireball, and then he supposedly recorded this video while he was in the hospital there." He shrugged. "I know it's not much to go on, but you said it – we need something to work on while we wait for Kevin to come up with the next trial."
Dean capitulated. "Okay, fair enough. What's the name of the town?"
"Storybrooke."
XXXXX
Dean drove the Impala sedately down the main street in Storybrooke. From what he'd seen so far, he wasn't too impressed with the town, nor did anything seem overtly suspicious. He spotted a diner and pulled up in front of it. It was quaintly called "Granny's", which made Dean's lips quirk.
"What?" Sam queried, following Dean's gaze to the sign above the diner. "Huh. Well, we could do with some home-cooked food for once. Here's hoping the menu lives up to the name."
They both got out of the car and went into the diner, Dean trying to look nonchalant while scanning the interior for signs of the weirdness Sam's research had turned up. The first thing he noticed was the hot chick behind the counter. She was talking to a kid, who was sitting on one of the tall stools, drinking a milkshake. There were a couple of casually dressed trucker-types in a booth in the far corner, but otherwise the place was empty.
The waitress looked up at their entrance, pushing her long, black hair out of her face. The smile elicited by her conversation with the kid froze as she took in the Winchester brothers, but she recovered herself quickly and stepped around the counter to welcome them. Dean took a moment to admire her legs, which were encased in heavy knee-length boots and showed off to good advantage by a tight mini skirt.
"Just sit anywhere, guys," she said with forced brightness. "I'll grab you a couple of menus."
As Sam and Dean walked past her towards an empty booth, she turned back to the kid at the counter and murmured something in his ear. He started slightly, then climbed down from his stool and ran out of the diner.
The Winchesters sat down and the waitress hustled over immediately, handing them each a laminated menu card. Her name badge said, 'Ruby'. Demon associations notwithstanding, Dean thought the name suited her, matching her bright red lipstick.
"What brings you to Storybrooke?" Ruby asked, as they perused their menus.
They'd discussed their cover story on the journey, unsure how to present themselves to the townsfolk. Nobody was dead, hurt or missing, as far as they knew, so they had no recourse to their usual ruse as FBI agents. So, they'd decided to go with a more mundane story and play it by ear.
"Road trip," Dean said, smiling up at her innocently. "Just doing some sightseeing."
Ruby's brow wrinkled, her nervousness still showing despite her attempts to hide it. "Sightseeing?" she repeated. "The sights aren't up to much around here."
Dean looked her up and down slowly, his trademark grin creeping across his face. "From where I'm sitting, I'd say otherwise," he said.
Ruby managed a laugh, but it was clear she was uncomfortable. "What can I get you?" she asked, deflecting the conversation back to their order.
They both requested a cheeseburger with everything, and Ruby disappeared into the kitchen to place their order. Dean exchanged a glance with Sam; there must be something seriously wrong with this town if it had produced a hot waitress who was immune to his charms.
Ruby had brought their food and returned to her station behind the counter, when the kid from before came back in, another woman on his heels. This one certainly had the right hair for a fairytale princess – long and impossibly blonde – but her expression and body language didn't fit that profile. It didn't take the sheriff's badge at her belt to tell Dean she'd be trouble.
The sheriff followed the kid to the counter and greeted Ruby, presenting a casual front. Dean could tell, however, that her attention had been fixed on them from the moment she stepped through the door. He turned back to his food, waiting for her to make the first move. It didn't take long. Once she had collected a cup of coffee, the sheriff moved to lean on the counter opposite their booth, and regarded them levelly.
"Afternoon, gentlemen," she said, her voice confident. "Welcome to Storybrooke. I'm Emma Swan, town sheriff."
"Howdy, sheriff," Dean replied with an easy smile. "I'm Jacob and this is my brother, Wilhelm."
The kid immediately spun his stool around and piped up, "Like the Brothers Grimm?"
Dean cursed inwardly. What were the chances that someone would recognise the names? He really had to start coming up with better aliases.
"Uh, yeah," Sam said, with a self-deprecating duck of his head, leaping in to salvage the situation. "Our parents had an odd sense of humour."
"Jacob and Wilhelm…?" the sheriff prompted, her eyes narrowing.
"Monroe," Dean completed.
"Okay," she said. "Well, I hope you enjoy your stay." Her tone suggested she hoped anything but.
Sam smiled up at her. "If the accommodations are as good as the burgers, I'm sure we'll do just fine."
"Granny's hospitality knows no equal," the sheriff allowed, her tone softening slightly, but her eyes still wary. "How long do you plan on staying?"
"Not sure yet," Dean prevaricated. "Our car could do with a little tuning up before we set off again. Is there a garage here in town where I might be able to work on her?"
"Just round the corner," she told him. "Michael probably won't mind you using his space. Is that your car just outside?"
"Sure is," Dean enthused, letting his genuine pride in his baby leak through in his tone. "She takes a bit of work, but it's all worth it."
"Uh-huh." The sheriff clearly wasn't that interested in cars, but she relaxed a bit further at Dean's obvious passion for the Impala. It all lent credibility to the persona he was creating, and he was gratified that it seemed to be working at least a little towards putting her at ease.
"I'll let you get back to your lunch," she said, and turned back to the kid at the counter, who was slurping the last dregs of his drink through the straw. "Come on, Henry. I think that milkshake's about ready to surrender."
The kid – Henry, Dean committed to memory – grinned up at her, and willingly followed her out of the diner.
When they'd finished their food, Ruby told them there were rooms available in the hotel upstairs and got them checked in. They still hadn't seen any sign of the "Granny" of the establishment's name, but Ruby seemed just as confident with the hotel side of things as with the diner, and the process didn't take long. They collected their bags from the car and made their way up the back stairs to their room.
Sam rounded on Dean the moment the door was closed behind them.
"Why did you have to make me Wilhelm?" he whined. "What kind of a name is that anyway?"
"A good strong, German name, Willie my boy," Dean replied with a smirk.
"And Monroe?" Sam spluttered. "Dude, that show is terrible! Animal monsters that show their true form when they're nervous? It's ridiculous!"
Dean shrugged. "It was the first name that sprang to mind when the kid mentioned Grimm," he explained. "Besides, you have to admit that Nick guy has a lot of cool weaponry in that trailer of his."
Sam rolled his eyes, but gave up the argument. "Did you see how the waitress sent the kid for the sheriff pretty much as soon as we stepped through the door?"
"Yeah," Dean said. "She was real nervous from the get-go. They certainly don't like strangers in this town. And it's not as if we can blend in – sightseers clearly don't roll through here very often."
"Nobody's prancing around in a Disney costume, claiming to be Cinderella, either," Sam pointed out.
"There's definitely something going on in this town, though," Dean persisted. "We need to find the women from that video."
XXXXX
At the sheriff's station, David listened as Emma told him and Mary Margaret about the two new visitors to town.
"And you don't believe them?" he queried once she'd finished, sensing the scepticism in her tone.
"No way," Emma said. "What's the likelihood that two random guys named after the Brothers Grimm would just happen to come to Storybrooke? Plus, I know a con man when I see one, and that Jacob guy has it written all over his face."
"But what could they be doing here?" Mary Margaret wanted to know. "What would strangers from this world want with Storybrooke?"
"I have no idea," Emma said. "But we need to be careful. We need to find out what they know, but without revealing anything about Storybrooke's secret. And that may be easier said than done, with Cora and Hook running about the place."
"They could be good guys," Henry suggested. "Maybe they're here to help us."
Emma smiled down at her son, and reached out to ruffle his hair.
"I like your optimism, kiddo," she said, "but if they were good guys, why would they lie about who they were?"
"Superheroes always have a secret identity," Henry persisted.
"I'll bear that in mind," Emma said. "In the meantime, we need to keep a low profile, keep them away from anything magical, and hope they get bored and go away." She looked seriously at David and Mary Margaret. "Maybe I should try and get Gold to postpone the trip to New York until we know more about what those guys are doing here."
"Do you really think he'd agree to that?" David asked. He couldn't imagine Gold doing anything to accommodate them, whatever the circumstances. He might do things that benefitted them on occasion, but it was always for his own reasons, not out of altruism.
"No," Emma admitted, "but I don't like the idea of leaving when things are so uncertain here. It's bad enough me not being here with the Cora threat hanging over us, without the added complication of suspicious strangers in town."
"We'll keep an eye on them," David promised. "There are good reasons for you to be out of town for a while." He glanced significantly at Henry. "We can handle whatever happens here." He cut Emma off before she could say the words he knew would be coming next. "Don't worry, we'll be careful."
She smiled at his accurate predication of what she was going to say. "Okay," she said. Then she turned to Henry. "We'd better go pack." She reached down to unclip her sheriff's badge from her belt. She held it out to David. "I guess you're in charge while I'm away," she said.
"Thanks," he said, taking the badge from her. It felt very solid in his hand, with the weight of responsibility, but also of power, albeit a power that would have very little effect on the dangers that threatened them now magic had been let loose in Storybrooke.
Emma and Henry went out, leaving David and Mary Margaret alone in the office. Mary Margaret's brow was furrowed.
"Do you think this will ever be over?" she asked.
David put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "One day," he said, hopefully. "I don't know when or how, but I have faith we'll prevail. Good always does in the end."
She smiled uncertainly up at him. "I'm not sure that's necessarily true in this world," she said, "but we won't give up trying."
XXXXX
Dean and Sam waited until the sun had gone down, then made their way to the hospital. It wasn't a large hospital, but there was still enough activity that they didn't stand out too much wandering the halls. Before long, they spotted the young woman from the video through an open door. She was pretty, with delicate features and long brown hair, but she looked fragile, and her face was pinched, as if she was trying to remember something.
Dean gestured for Sam to enter the room first. He was always better at dealing with the fragile ones, and it was important they reassure her that they didn't mean any harm. They both slipped inside the room, Dean closing the door behind them. The girl looked up at their entrance, but didn't immediately seem alarmed.
"Let me guess," she said, with a soft Australian accent. "We're bosom friends and you're sure I'll remember you if I just try." She sounded weary.
"No," Sam said, "we've never met."
That sparked her interest. "Well, that makes a nice change. What do you want with me if we've never met?"
Sam went with the truth. "We're looking into some weird stuff we've heard about this town, and we were hoping you'd be able to help us figure some of it out."
"Me help you?" She gave Sam a tired smile. "That makes an interesting change, too. Everyone else keeps trying to help me and, to be honest, I'm a bit sick of it. As for weird stuff, you've come to the right place. This is Weird Central."
"I'm Will, and this is my brother, Jake," Sam said. They'd decided to stick with the false names to make things simpler, in case the sherrif got wind of their visit and decided to ask questions.
The girl shrugged. "I'd return the favour, but I don't know who I am. People keep telling me my name is Belle, but it doesn't mean anything to me. I guess it's as good a name as any, though, so you might as well use it."
"Do you mind if we sit down, and talk to you for a bit?" Sam was still doing his polite, respectable citizen act.
"Go for it," Belle said. "It's not as if I have anything else to do right now."
Dean and Sam took a seat each on either side of the bed, and Dean took over the conversation.
"We're looking into someone who came to visit you," he said.
Sam took a printed screen shot from the video out of his jacket and showed Belle the older woman.
Belle's brow wrinkled.
"I remember. It was a few days ago," she said. "I actually thought I recognised her from before the accident, but everything's still really fuzzy."
"Accident?" Dean queried.
"Yeah," Belle said. "I was on the outskirts of town; I don't remember why, but there was a man in a leather coat and he shot me."
"He shot you?" Dean didn't see any bandages.
Belle threw him a wry look. "This is where the weirdness comes in, so bear with me. The man I was with, Mr Gold he says his name is – he put his hand on my shoulder and suddenly the bullet wound was gone. Then he threw a fireball at the other guy and blasted him into the path of an oncoming car." She let out an exasperated breath. "I know it all sounds insane and everyone seems to think I'm crazy, but the driver of the car was in the hospital for a while, and he says he saw the fireball too."
"Believe me," Sam said, sympathetically, "we've heard crazier."
"What about the woman who came to see you?" Dean asked.
Belle frowned, obviously concentrating. "She said she wanted me to help her find something."
Dean leaned forwards. This was progress, since they hadn't been able to make out any dialogue on the video.
"Did she say what it was?"
"No," Belle said, "but she said it belonged to Rumpelstiltskin."
Dean exchanged a glance with Sam. This was the first reference to a fairy tale character they'd heard since they'd arrived in town.
Belle misunderstood their expressions. "I know, it's ridiculous, right? When I asked her who she meant, she said Mr Gold."
"You said this Gold character was with you when the accident happened," Dean said. "What do you know about him?"
Belle's features twisted. "He says we're in love." She shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "He's been in here several times since the accident, trying to get me to remember. I actually woke up the other night to find him trying to kiss me."
"Well, that's not remotely creepy," Dean said with heavy sarcasm.
"I know," Belle said. "Then he brought me a chipped teacup and tried to make me hold it, saying it would help me remember that I loved him. I smashed it and he got really upset, and I haven't seen him since. He was so insistent, though, and I don't remember who I am, so maybe he's right." She looked down at her hands. "I've been trying to think back before the accident, and bits and pieces have started to come through, but nothing that fits with what he said. I think I might have met him before, but I certainly don't remember us being in a relationship."
"You said you maybe remembered the woman who came to see you, too," Sam prompted.
"Yeah," Belle said. "I think, before the accident, I was locked up somewhere for a very long time."
"In prison?" Dean asked, having difficulty imagining her committing a crime.
"No," she clarified. "More like in a hospital. Like a mental ward, or something. I don't remember much about it, but I think that woman came to see me there, too. Then, I think someone came and let me out, and sent me to Mr Gold. I have an image of walking in the woods with him, but then there's nothing until the night of the accident. None of it's very clear."
"Okay, thanks," Dean said. "It gives us some more stuff to look into, at least."
"What's it to you, anyway?" Belle asked, suddenly.
"We, uh, just like solving mysteries," Sam said. Dean rolled his eyes across the bed; they were treading a fine line with the truth here, and it always got complicated when they veered away from a wholly mundane cover story.
"Well, there's plenty of those around here," Belle said. "Good luck finding answers."
XXXXX
Back at Granny's, Sam went straight into research mode. Dean watched him browse, waiting for the inevitable exposition. It wasn't long in coming.
"Okay, Rumpelstiltskin," Sam announced after a few minutes. "Story first collected in 1812 by the Brothers Grimm -" he looked up and arched an eyebrow at Dean "- where he is described as an 'imp-like creature'. In the story, a miller tells the king his daughter can spin straw into gold, so the king locks her up in a dungeon with a pile of straw and a spinning wheel, and threatens to cut off her head if she doesn't produce the requisite gold."
"Nice guy," Dean commented, drily.
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Anyway, so Rumpelstiltskin turns up and spins the straw into gold in exchange for the girl's necklace. The next night, the king gives her a bigger pile of straw with the same threat, but Rumpelstiltskin shows up again and creates the gold in exchange for her ring."
Dean held up a hand to halt Sam's flow. "If he can spin straw into gold, what the hell does he want with some peasant's crummy jewellery?"
"He's just laying the groundwork," Sam explained. "Like a drug dealer, getting a new kid hooked – only the first one's free."
"So what is it he really wants?" Dean said.
"I'm glad you asked," Sam said with a grin. "Third night, the king gives the girl an even bigger pile of straw, and promises to marry her if she can turn it all into gold. If not..."
He paused and looked up. Dean took his cue and drew a finger across his throat.
"Right," Sam said, then continued. "So, this time, Rumpelstiltskin comes up with a new deal. Straw into gold for the girl's firstborn child."
"Ah, that old chestnut," Dean said. Then a thought struck him. "Is this starting to sound like a demon deal to you?"
Sam frowned. "Maybe a little. I wonder if there's any connection. Do you think the Brothers Grimm had some experience with real monsters in their day?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," Dean said. "They had to get their ideas from somewhere, right? Anyway, so I'm guessing the girl agrees to the deal, good old Rumpel holds up his end with the gold, and the girls gets to be queen. She has a kid, the deal comes due – then what?"
"To nobody's surprise, she refuses to give the kid up. Weirdly, Rumpelstiltskin then agrees to make a new deal with her, saying she can keep the kid if she guesses his name within three days. He comes back each day, and she can't guess. But she sends men out to search the kingdom and one of them finds Rumpelstiltskin's castle on the night before the third day and spies on him. Get this – he's actually dancing around, singing about how clever he is, and he reveals his name in the song."
Dean snorted. "What an idiot."
"So," Sam carried on, "on the third day, he turns up, and girl is all ready with the name. Rumpelstiltskin throws a hissy fit and runs off, never to be seen again."
"He just ran away?" Dean queried. "Well, that's pretty lame. Dude doesn't sound like much of a threat. How do we kill him?"
"It doesn't say," Sam admitted. "In all the versions of the story, he either just disappears or actually kills himself." He looked up from the laptop, an earnest look on his face. "Besides, we don't know he's the bad guy in all this. The woman who came to see Belle in the hospital obviously has it in for him, so he may actually be a victim."
Dean never ceased to be amazed by Sam's willingness to see good in people – and monsters. He himself was less than convinced. It was one of the things that caused problems between them sometimes – the whole mess with Amy was still a sore point – and Dean was both frustrated by and envious of Sam's optimism. "In my experience, there are rarely good guys in a monster feud, Sammy," he said. "And he's the only lead we've got at the moment. We know he's connected to the town and we've got eye witness accounts of him using magic, so I say we look him up tomorrow and see what we can find out."
"Fair enough," Sam said, shutting the laptop. "If nothing else, he may be able to shed some light on what's going on around here."
XXXXX
The following morning, Sam and Dean took a wander round the town and soon spotted a shop on the corner of the main street, sporting the name Gold above the door.
"Rumpelstiltskin runs a pawn shop?" Dean said. "I guess that makes sense, if he's into deals that force people to give up their valuables."
There was a sign on the door saying the shop was closed because the proprietor was out of town.
"Huh," Sam said. "Well, there goes the plan of seeing what we could get out of him."
Dean wasn't prepared to give up just yet. "Let's see if we can get in around back," he suggested. "There's got to be a ton of stuff in there that might give us a lead."
They walked nonchalantly round to the back of the shop, where they found a rear door. It was locked, but that didn't put them off. Sam quickly retrieved his lock picks from an inside pocket and knelt to work at the door, while Dean took a couple of paces back and looked around to check they weren't being observed. Breaking into places in broad daylight wasn't the most sensible of ideas, but it would be a waste of time to wait until dark, when they had no other leads to go by. He glanced back at Sam, to see his brother about to insert the lock picks into the lock. The moment they touched the mechanism, there was a 'whump' noise and Sam was knocked backwards to the ground by some unseen force.
"Sam!" Dean cried, rushing to his brother's side. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Sam said, breathlessly, struggling to sit up. Dean supported him into a sitting position and he shook his hair out of his eyes. "Wow, someone really doesn't want anyone to get in there."
"At least it confirms the magic angle," Dean said.
He stood up and offered Sam a hand, pulling him to his feet.
"Yeah," Sam said. "But we're out of leads again. So now what?"
"Other people in the town must know what's going on," Dean said, "but we have no way of knowing which the right people are to ask, and who's trustworthy."
"We passed a library on our way over here," Sam said. "Maybe we could find something there about the town's history, or past significant events that might give us a clue." He caught Dean's sceptical look, and went on. "I know it's not much, but what else have we got?"
Dean didn't relish the idea of spending the day doing research in the library. "You go and see what you can find," he said. "I'll take the car over to the garage and establish our cover there. Maybe I can talk to a couple of the locals and see what I can get that way. Why don't we meet back at Granny's at lunchtime and compare notes?"
"Okay," Sam agreed, and they split up.
XXXXX
Sam made his way to the library, only to discover that that, too, was closed and locked up. Whatever else was going on in this town, it wasn't going to win any awards for public services. He was about to give up and go back to the hotel to see if the internet could provide any more information, when he heard the sound of people moving about inside the building. He followed the noise to a window down the side that was slightly open, and peered inside.
There were three people in the library, poring over what looked like a map laid out on the table in the centre of the room. Sam recognised one of them immediately as the woman from the video. The other two were unknown to him; an older woman with pinched features and a tall man in an outlandish outfit that made him look positively piratical.
As Sam watched, the man pointed at something marked on the map and announced, "I give you the location of the dagger!"
The older woman's face twisted into an approximation of a smile and she said, "Well done, Hook. We'll take it from here."
She snatched the map up from the table and started moving purposefully towards the door, the woman from the video following behind her.
The man – Captain Hook? Sam wondered (his left hand was stiff and unmoving beneath a black leather glove) – gave a cry of outrage. "No! You promised me!"
He moved to stop them leaving, but the older woman gave a wave of her hand and the man was thrown across the room, to land in a heap against the bookshelves. He lay still, and the two women walked out of the library without a backward glance.
Now that he had located the target of the hunt, and discovered she had an equally magically-powered accomplice, Sam didn't want to lose her. He waited at the side of the building for a few seconds, so that they wouldn't see him as they came out, then edged round the front and followed them at a safe distance.
XXXXX
Dean drove the Impala round to Tillman's garage and pulled up in a space next to the workshop. His baby was actually in pretty good condition at the moment, but it never hurt to give her a tune-up and he was looking forward to having the excuse to spend some time working on her.
A man in overalls emerged from the workshop as he got out of the car. He was very average-looking, with short brown hair and regular features, and he was wiping his hands on the inevitable mechanic's greasy rag.
"Hey," Dean said, companionably. "You Michael Tillman?"
The man nodded warily. It was a now familiar reaction from the town's residents, but Dean ignored it, maintaining his friendly expression.
"The name's Jake," he said. "My brother and I are just passing through town, and Sheriff Swan said you might let me use your space to work on my baby here."
Tillman's eyes slid to the Impala, his suspicion giving way to admiration as he took in the car's smooth lines.
"Nice car," he said appreciatively, and Dean's smile widened with pride.
"That she is," he agreed readily. "Needs a lot of TLC, though, and I could do with giving her a once-over. You mind?"
"Okay by me," Tillman said. "Feel free to use whatever you need."
"Thanks, man," Dean said. "I appreciate it."
Within a few minutes, he was happily up to his elbows in the Impala's engine, fully engrossed in the car until a voice behind him made him start.
"Cool car!"
He turned to see a young boy standing behind him, awe clear in his face.
"Thanks!" he said. "You want to come take a look?"
The boy stepped forwards eagerly.
"I'm Jake," Dean said. "What's your name?"
"Hansel," the boy said, then immediately looked horrified. "I mean, Nicholas."
Dean considered the boy for a moment. He hadn't wanted to push things with Tillman right off, deciding to wait until they'd built up a bit of a rapport before trying to get anything out of him about the town, but this kid might be an easier mark.
"Hansel?" he queried, with a grin. "Like in the fairy tale?"
The boy goggled at him, but was saved from having to answer by the appearance of a girl, who looked to be a couple of years older than him.
"It's just a stupid game we play," she said. "Nicholas has a very good imagination and he gets carried away sometimes." She strode forwards to join them at the car, punching the boy in the arm as she drew level with him.
"So you're Gretel, right?" Dean said innocently.
"Ava," she said firmly. Nicholas opened his mouth to say something, but she glared at him and he shut it again.
"Younger brother?" Dean asked, gesturing at the boy.
Ava nodded.
"I have one of those, too," Dean told her, rolling his eyes.
She relaxed slightly, but Dean didn't get the chance to work on his advantage, because at that moment his phone rang. The caller ID showed Sam's name.
"Speak of the devil," he said to Ava. "Excuse me a minute."
He walked away from the kids and answered the phone.
"What's up?" he said.
Sam's voice was low but clear. "I've found the woman from the video," he said. "She's with another woman, and I think they're both witches."
"You've seen them use magic?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "But at the moment, they have a map and a shovel, and they're heading into the woods to look for some kind of dagger. I'm on their tail, but I have no idea what might happen if they find what they're looking for."
"Okay, tell me where you are and I'll come find you," Dean said.
"Heading east out of town into the woods," Sam told him. "I've switched on the GPS on my phone, so you can track me."
"Great," Dean said. "Don't do anything till I get there."
He cut the connection and went back to the car. The kids were still hanging about, so he couldn't tool up properly, but he managed to retrieve a hand gun from the trunk and slip it into his waistband without them noticing. Then he caught Ava's attention.
"I've got to go help my brother with something for a bit, but I'll be back to work on the car some more later. Keep an eye on it for me, will you?"
She nodded, and he set off in the direction of the woods after Sam.
XXXXX
TO BE CONTINUED
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