Chapter 1;
The room was spinning quickly and vigorously, and Grace Winchester felt she was about to be sick. Still, she couldn't find it in her to move from her bed. She swallowed with difficulty, a strange fuzzy feeling overcoming her. Slipping in and out of dreams, Grace wasn't sure whether she was awake or not.
"Take your brother outside as fast as you can!" her father yelled, shoving Sammy into Dean's arms. Grace, barley able to walk, couldn't understand what was happening. She was woken to the sounds of screams, and left her room to find an orange glow spilling out from her baby brother's room into the halls.
"Don't look back!" her dad ordered. The urgency in his voice startled Grace. Suddenly, she felt she couldn't move.
"Go Grace, now!"
Grace forced her feet to start moving and she followed her older brother, tears blurring her vision, chest tightening, heart beating, the roar of the fire blasting in her—
KNOCK
KNOCK
Grace sat up. The room still spinning, she groggily slipping out of bed and made her way towards the knocking sound, holding on to the walls for support. She opened the door to find an older man, somewhere in his late forties, with a big coat and a hat hiding his face.
"You ready?" Grace asked, leaning against the door frame.
"Yes." The man said in a hushed, shifting his eyes suspiciously. "Lets just get this over with."
Grace laughed at his paranoid behavior. She opened door a little wider, and the man tried to push past her. Grace placed a hand on his large chest, stopping him from entering.
"Forgetting something?" She raised an eyebrow expectantly.
He gave a grunt, reaching into his pockets and taking out a handful of money. He handed it over to a satisfied Grace, who, after counting it, opened the door wider to let him in.
"I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam Winchester reasoned as he followed his brother down his apartment steps. Up until a few minutes ago he was sleeping soundly in bed, that is, until he was woken up by his crazy brother, who broke into his apartment at 2 in the morning.
"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him," Dean replied, trying to stay calmer then he felt. This was the first time he'd seen his brother in four years. He wanted to go get Sam and drag his ass back on the road with him since the first day he left. The only thing stopping him was their dad. Now, there was nothing stopping him.
"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."
Dean turned around, a serious expression crossing his face.
"Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?"
"I'm not," Sam stated stubbornly, but Dean wasn't going to take no for an answer. The two brothers continued to squabble, crossing the parking lot they spotted their dad's beloved car. When they got to the car, Sam looked inside and was surprised to find it empty.
"You came alone?" Sam scoffed. "Did you even tell Grace you were coming here?"
Dean's jaw tightened. He dreaded having this conversation with his little brother the minute he decided to come and get him.
"Dad isn't the only reason I came to get you," Dean started. "There's something else."
Sam's eyebrows frown, he nodded, telling his brother to continue.
"It's Gracie's…uh….she's gone," Dean stated heavily.
"By gone you mean…" Sam's voice faded away, almost afraid of the answer.
"I mean she left," Dean specified "She ran away a few nights after you left."
"And you let her?" Sam said, raising his voice slightly.
"What else you I suppose to do, huh? You left and dad…" Dean's voice faded away. Anger for his brother's absence soon faded away when an overwhelming wave of guilt. He had his reasons for letting his sister go, none he was proud enough to admit.
The two brothers stayed quiet for a moment, trying to recompose themselves. Then, Sam spoke.
"I was just going to college," Sam rasped. "It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone."
"Yeah well, it doesn't matter right now." Dean raised his head to make eye contact with his brother. "I'm going to get my dad and sister back. You in?"
He let her go for this long, it was about time he brought her back.
Sam twitched his lips, thinking of his options for a moment. Dean sensed his hesitation, so he brought up a new angle. He opened the boot of the car and pulled out a folder.
"All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy."
Dean shoved one of the papers in Sam's hand.
"They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."
The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald, headlined "Centennial Highway Disappearance" and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned "Andrew Carey MISSING". Sam reads it and glances up.
"Maybe he was kidnapped."
Dean gave him a doubtful look.
"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April."
"Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years."
Dean snatched back the article and put it can in the folder.
"All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road."
Sam watched his brother unsurely and Dean rummaged in the back of his car.
"It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough."
Then Dean pulled out a tape recorder.
"Then I get this voicemail yesterday."
He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up. Their dad's voice came through the rough recording.
"Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."
"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam observed.
Dean smiled.
"Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?"
Sam shook his head and gave Dean an annoyed look. Dean ignored it.
"All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."
He pressed play again. A woman's voice came through the recorder.
"I can never go home..."
Dean pressed stop.
"Never go home." Sam repeated.
Dean dropped the recorder back into the truck, then closed it. He looked at his brother with a pointed look.
"You know, in almost four years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."
Sam, seeming unhappy about the situation, sighed and looked back.
"All right. I'll go." Sam said hesitantly. Dean grinned wildly and clapped him on the back. They turned back to Sam's apartment.
"Atta boy. C'mon, get your things, then we can hit the road."
"Whoa, whoa. Hold up man," Sam said, turning to face Dean.
"What?" Dean asked impatiently.
"Promise me we'll be back first thing Monday."
Dean made a face.
"What's first thing Monday?"
"I have an interview…for a law school."
Dean smirked and started snickering.
"Look-it's my entire future on a plate." Sam sighed. "I need to be back, ok?"
Dean exhaled deeply from his nose, not happy about the situation, but agreed anyway.
"Ok fine, back by Monday, got it."
Grace set up her Ouija board on a small table in the middle of the room, as Fred sat in front of it, watching skeptically. There was another knock at the door, making the older man jump.
"Relax," Grace assured him calmly, letting a young man into the room. "It's just my assistant."
"You didn't say anything about an-"
"Stuff it, mate," the younger man replied, English accent very apparent. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't desperate."
Fred swallowed his words.
Grace finished setting up, lighting her last candle.
"Rupert, the lights."
Rupert nodded, flipping the switch, a few candles being their only source of light. Grace sat down on the chair facing Fred, while Rupert hung back in the corner.
"Is the lighting really necessary?" Fred asked, a slight quiver in his voice.
"Just setting the mood," Grace chirped. She then cleared her throat and placed her hand lightly over the planchette, then encouraged Fred to do the same.
"Are there any spirits that what to reach out to us?" Grace called out.
Nothing happened.
Fred let out a scoff, and began to withdraw his hand from the planchette, but before he could, it slowly began to move towards the yes.
"What's your name?" Grace continued to ask.
The planchette began to fly between the letters, seeming almost sure of itself.
J-I-M-M-Y
Fred let out a gasp, face gone completely white.
"Jimmy," he choked out.
"Jimmy." Grace repeated. "Wasn't there a James Turner who recently went missing?"
Fred was taken aback.
"Y-yes," he stuttered out. "But it's gotta be some sort'a conscience!"
The planchette moved again, towards the no. Grace continued.
"Jimmy, how did you die?"
M-U-R-D-E-R
Murder.
Fred's breathing became uneven, he completely pulled away.
"I've had enough," he stated, "I want my money back!"
"Just one more question." Grace said calmly.
"Are you going to hell, Fred?"
Suddenly the planchette started flying around the board wildly, before flipping off the table and out of Grace's hand.
Fred's eyes widened, jaw dropping as he struggled to breathe properly.
"Wha-"
"You murdered Jimmy out of drunken rage," Grace stated, raising herself off her chair. "Then dumped his body in the swamp."
Grace pulled out a knife and jabbed it straight into Fred's hand, causing him to howl in pain. Grace leaned forward so Fred could see her through his tear-filled eyes.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't let Jimmy rip you apart?" Grace said menacingly, her calm nature seeming to have disappeared. Fred, taken aback and in pain, cried out.
"Please!" he blubbered, "Please, I'll do whatever you want!"
"Well," Grace yanked the knife out of Fred's hand, making him yelp. "That's an easy one. There're two ways this can be resolved. One; he kills you."
Fred whippers.
"Or, you hand yourself in, bring closure to the family. One or the other, your choice."
Fred nodded frantically, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. Rupert, finally growing bored, unlocked the door and let the sobbing mess out. When he closed it again, he turns round to find Grace counting their makings. Rupert clapped sarcastically.
"Well done on that performance," he commended, brow raised. "How did you make the planchette flip its shit out like that without you touching it?"
Grace held up a small magnet in the palm of her hand, a sheepish smile on her face. Rupert hummed in approval.
"What I don't understand," Rupert continued, "is why you didn't burn the body. Jail can't keep him safe from a homicidal ghost."
"There was no ghost," Grace said, not looking up from the money. "There was no proof that Jimmy's spirit didn't move on."
"Then what made Fred think otherwise?"
"The mind of a paranoid bastard and a little encouragement." Grace finally looked up at the young man, a confident smile forming on her lips.
Jessica Moore, commonly known as Jess, was the love of Sam's life. They met one another through their mutual friend Brady, and Sam was sure when he said that it was the best moment in his short lived life. They were the couple that everyone wanted to be. A perfectly imperfect couple you'd see in the movies. Sure, they had their fights, what normal couple didn't. But at the end of the day that didn't matter. He loved her, so much that he was going to ask her to marry him.
Which is why it made it so much worse when he saw her pinned up to the ceiling like that, blood gushing out from her stomach, a look of betrayal on her face because he left her. He caused this.
Sam could do nothing more than watch his beloved burn.
And then he left.
Hesitantly, he left the only home he's ever had, that he built with her, to go find the monster that did this. He and his brother left on the open road, with hardly anything but the clothes on their backs.
Sam hadn't slept for days, he's been running on nothing but coffee and pure revenge.
Two Saturdays after the incident the brothers were found residing in a dingy motel room. Sam sat in the dimly lit room, his face illuminated by the light of his laptop. He typed manically, trying to search for any sign of their mystery monster. The only problem was, he didn't know what to look out for.
As he was tapping away on his keyboard, Dean, who was trying to get some sleep, made his way over to his brother and blocked the screen with his large hand.
"Stop," he said, slightly irritated. "You've been sitting on that thing for days, when was the last time you got some sleep, huh?"
"Can't sleep," Sam said monotonously. Dean sighed and guided Sam out of his chair to one of the beds. Sam didn't fight back, he didn't seem to think it was worth the effort. Dean laid him down on the bed and covered him with a blanket.
"Dean," Sam complained meekly. "Have to work."
"You can work tomorrow." Dean said. "Just do us both a favour a get some rest, ok?"
Sam replied with a mumble that Dean couldn't quite make out. Soon Sam's breathing went heavy and his features softened. It was only until Dean was sure his brother was asleep did he sit down in front of Sam's laptop.
He began his search for his little sister. It only took him a bit over an hour to find her, she was never very good at hiding her tracks. She been traveling around Mexico, so naturally her checked the coastline, Grace always loved the beach. His hunch was right, he managed to catch her trail in Colima. From there she's been moving more and more into the centre, from what he could see, Grace had settled into a small town in Mexico City, for now at least.
A smug smile plastered his face.
"Gotcha," he mumbled under his breath.
A few hours passed and Dean was still awake. The excitement of finding his sister kept him up, but he didn't have the heart to wake up Sam, especially after everything that happened. He sat on Sam's laptop, keeping himself entertained until sunrise. But he didn't have much longer to wait.
Sam started twisting and turning in his sleep, jolting in panic. Dean rushed over to his brother's side, shaking him awake.
"Hey, it's just a dream!" he pressed, trying to reassure that everything was okay. "Sammy, wake up, it's just a dream!"
Sam's eye's snapped open, then turned to Dean wildly.
"We gotta go." Sam said with urgency. "It's going to happen again, we gotta go."
Dean squinted through the dark, then turned on the lights to get a better look at his brother. Sam was on high alert, eyes wide and hands twitching.
"Woah man, just calm down." Dean tried to sit Sam down but he wouldn't let him.
"I can't, Dean!" Sam snapped, then collapsed on the bed with his face in his hand. Dean waited for Sam to tell him what's going on.
"Grace is in trouble," Sam finally said. With those words, Dean was more awake than ever.
"What? How do you know?" Dean asked, the only thing on his mind was leaving at that point.
"I saw her, on the ceiling."
"C'mon Sam, it was just a dream."
Sam hesitated.
"I got this feeling, I don't know, it's weird."
"What, you're some kind of physic now?"
"What? Dean no, it's just-" Sam struggled to explain. "Look, we gotta go, Grace is in trouble, trust me on this."
Dean sighed.
"Okay man, but you got some explaining to do."
Sam nodded, jaw clenched tight. The two brothers began to pack quickly. Sam went to get his open laptop, but he looked at the screen and stopped, turning to his brother with an unamused expression.
"Dude, were you using my laptop?"
Dean looked back to see Sam's laptop in his brother's hand, screen facing him. Busty Asian Beauties glowed on the screen.
Grace heaved her shovel through the ground, hitting a solid base and sighing in relief. After prying the lid off the coffin, revealing the bones of Esmerelda Williams, Grace climbed out the grave and poured salt and gas over the body. Then, she whipped out a lighter from her back pocket and set the body aflame.
"Hasta la vista, baby," Grace said under her breath as she watch the flames engulf the rotting remains of Esmerelda.
After the flames died out, Grace collected her things and walked out of the graveyard like it was just another Tuesday. She walked along the dark backstreets of the city as it was the quickest way to get home. Usually calm and collected, Grace could walk these alleys with ease, but today she felt apprehensive, so she followed the main road. All the streetlights were turned off, except for the one closest to her apartment block. As Grace passed it began to flicker on and off. Grace's uneasiness grew.
Grace jogged up the old rusting stairs to her apartment. She went to put her key in the lock, but found that the door was open, left slightly ajar. Grace took a step back, analysing her options for a moment, before sliding a knife out of her boot and quietly entering the dark, tiny house. She let her eyes adjust to the poor lighting before scanning her surroundings. She heard movement to her far left. She could barely make out the pattern of a tall figure. Clutching her knife tighter, Grace slowly approached her burglar, ready to attack. Grace pulled back her knife to strike, but someone grabbed her by the waist from behind, causing her to drop the knife, and tackled her down to the floor. There was a scuffle as Grace struggled to gain the upper hand.
Then the lights came on, Grace found herself pinned to the ground. Her hands wrapped around her older brother's neck.
"Dean!?"
Dean gave her a wide grin, not loosening his grip from her shoulders.
"Hiya, princess." Dean said, with a smug look on his face. "Aren't you a little outta practice?"
Grace grunted at his weight, but Dean stayed in place, making sure she suffered for a bit longer.
"C'mon Dean, get off her." Her younger brother's voice came out of nowhere. Soon Sam came into vision. Sam looked down at her with his same old puppy dog eyes, his shaggy hair falling in front of them.
"Sammy?" Grace muttered softly. Sam smiled and nodded. Dean got up and peeled her off the floor. He was then greeted by a bone crushing hug, Then Grace turned to Sam and did the same. She allowed a single tear to spill down her cheek before wiping it away.
"You make terrible burglars." Grace croaked.
Her brothers shared a look between them and chuckled.
"Amazing." Dean said sarcastically. "You haven't seen either of us in four years, and that's all you have to say to us?"
"And you both look like shit, too." Grace joked, trying to constrain more tears from falling.
"Yeah, well," Sam said, going in for another hug "Have you looked in the mirror lately?"
Grace found herself smiling at that. She dug her head into her younger brother's chest, before turning to Dean, arm still around Sam, and beckoned him over.
"oh no, no chick-flick moments." He said, but with engorgement from both his siblings, he put his arms around them anyway, embracing them as tightly as he could in fear of losing them again. For a moment it almost felt like everything was completely fine, everything was okay in the Winchester world. They were together, and happy about it. That moment was short lived.
They parted.
"What're you guys doing here?" Grace asked.
"We're here to rescue you." Dean teased, a goofy smile in his face.
"From what?" Grace asked, knitting her eyebrows together.
"Ask Sam." Dean said, turning to his brother with a conceited look on his face. Sam sent him a glare.
"Look, all that matters is she's safe, okay?" He turned to Grace. "We gotta talk."
Grace raised an eyebrow.
"Go on."
Sam eyed his surroundings suspiciously.
"Not here."
The three Winchesters sat at the booth in the furthest corner of the first fast food joint they found. Grace munched on her overcooked chicken burger while her brothers explained what's been going on in the past few weeks.
"So you haven't heard from dad once?" Grace asked in a hushed tone.
"You know how dad is." Sam sighed, poking his fork in his salad.
"But he did leave us this." Dean pulled out their father's journal and passed it to her. Grace's eye widened in surprise. This journal was one of her father's most personal possessions. None of the siblings were allowed to look or touch it, until now. Grace's fingers brushed against the rough texture of the old leather bound book.
"How do you know he isn't dead?" Grace asked.
"We don't." Sam stated with a grim expression. Dean slapped him at the back of his head.
"Yeah we do." He said, snatching the journal from Grace's hands. He pulled out a map and pointed to an X marking 35-111.
"We're thinking this is where he wants us to go." Dean said, tapping at the X.
"You know what they say, X marks the spot." Grace remarked, twitching her lip slightly.
"So you in?" Dean asked.
Grace stared at her brother with her mouth slightly ajar, not knowing how to respond. Yes, she had missed her brothers dearly after she left, but that didn't mean she wanted to jump the gun and hit the road with them again.
"Just until we find dad and get some answers." Sam jumped in, seeming to have sensed her hesitation. Grace swallowed, then cautiously nodded.
"Okay." She agreed. "So, where do the coordinates lead?"
Sam and Dean passed each other a look.
"What?"
"That's another thing." Sam said. "The coordinates he left us, Blackwater Ridge,"
"There's nothing there." Dean finished for him.
Grace squinted her eyes.
"What do you mean, 'nothing there'?"
"There's nothing there." Sam repeated, putting the map down between them. "It's just woods."
Grace looked down at the map, then when she saw her brothers were right, looked up.
"Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"