My roommate has been insisting that I upload the first chapter of this so that she can review it SO here we are. :)
This marks the beginning of my first Supernatural story. It started out as nothing much—just something we came up with in the middle of season two. And now... I dare say this story is some of the best work I've ever done. I've only got four chapters done (and a whole bunch of future concepts), but I'm in love with this story, as is everyone that has been shown it thus far. But then I guess that sounds like bragging a bit.
This story was inspired by many things, along with theactual show, of course. One of them was the song that inspired the title: "Watch the Sky" by Something Corporate. Sadly, the true nature of the title won't be shown right away, but...I feel the song is quite applicable to Supernatural in general. Give it a listen, if you should feel so inclined.
I dedicate this story to all that have supported me thus far on it, and especially to my wonderful roommate BondSlave. She's already done fanart for this story, and we're already talking about spin-offs! Gosh, I love her. :') Alisha, thanks for listening to me read this to you, for so highly praising my work (and making me run around the house like a hyperactive penguin from your praise), and for helping me come up with plot ideas and ways to make this story even more angsty than I ever thought it could be, heh. This story is just as much yours as it is mine, in my eyes. I love you, and thank you so much.
Happy reading, everyone. I hope you enjoy it.
-Chapter 1-
It was a dark and stormy night...
Well, it wasn't really. Actually, it was a warm night in late spring in the city. Two college girls were alone in their apartment, celebrating Friday night with popcorn, chocolate, pizza, and movies. They weren't the type to go out and party. In fact, they often referred to themselves as hermit crabs, emerging from the house only to go to classes at the local community college or to go grocery shopping. The rest of the time, they were at home.
Which was probably why a certain man chose to stake out their home on the second floor of the complex. And probably why he chose a Friday night to enter one girl's bedroom through the window. Wouldn't most everyone else in the building be out? Fewer witnesses. Fewer liabilities. And relatively easy access. The choice was obvious.
These things never do take too long, do they? They're over as quickly as they start. Screams echo off the walls and floors. 911 calls are attempted. Punches are thrown. Usual household objects are turned into makeshift weapons. Nails claw, feet kick, teeth bite. Anything it takes to stay alive. Every ounce of strength in every strand of muscle fiber kicks in. The survival instinct takes over. Anything it takes to stay alive. Sometimes it's enough.
And sometimes it isn't.
;;;;;
Dean Winchester sat himself down across from his brother at the table. He and Sam were in a relatively busy café there in that Northern California town, hoping the chatter around them would distract attention from their own conversation. Dean pushed a paper cup of coffee over to Sam, who caught it in his waiting hand. He raised the cup to his lips, scrolling down a news page on his laptop.
"Got anything?" Dean asked, taking a sip of his own coffee.
"Yeah, I think so," Sam replied, speaking only loud enough for Dean to hear him. "About six months ago, this guy Michael Dorsett broke into an apartment here where two college girls lived—Kelsey Williams and Alisha Ramirez. He killed one of the girls—Alisha—, and the other—Kelsey—barely made it out alive. Dorsett was caught two nights later and is now in prison."
"And why do we care about all this?" Dean asked. "Doesn't sound like anything supernatural's going on there. Just your typical unfortunate murder case."
"Let me finish," Sam said. He scooted his laptop a couple inches away and picked up a newspaper he'd been looking over. He turned it around and set it in front of Dean. "There've been reports from other tenants in the building. Weird things happening. There's the typical ones like flickering lights, doors swinging open on their own and all that, but some say they've seen things lift up into the air and float across rooms. And that's not even the strangest part."
"There's something weirder than that?" Dean asked as he scanned over the article.
"Yeah, multiple people have reported pets going missing during the night, only to have them return the next morning. And not just any pets—all cats."
Dean arched an eyebrow. "What the hell?" He looked at Sam. "Cats."
"Yep."
Dean shook his head. "So what d'ya think? Vengeful spirit of the girl who was murdered?"
Sam ran a hand through his longer brown hair. "I'm not sure... Doesn't seem to fit the norm of vengeful spirits. I mean, no one's gone missing and no one's wound up dead."
"Just some catnappings." Dean smirked. He tossed the newspaper back across the table. "You really think it's worth checking out?"
"Yeah, I do," Sam replied, picking up the paper. "Even if this spirit isn't hurting anybody now, who's to say it won't?"
"Alright, alright." Dean sighed and sat back in his chair. "So let's go check out the apartment where this Alisha chick died. Who lives there now?"
"According to what I've found, Kelsey Williams never moved out."
Dean looked at Sam for a moment. "You think maybe ghost-girl stuck around because of her roommate? Maybe thinks her roommate somehow played a part in her death?"
Sam gave a slight shrug. "It's possible."
Dean nodded. "Alright, let's go."
They grabbed up their coffee and jackets and such, and went out to the black '67 Chevy Impala parked next to the curb outside the café. Dean climbed into the driver's seat and waited for Sam to get into the passenger seat. The engine turned over and roared to life with a sound like that of a motorcycle engine, and they started off to the apartment complex.
"How do you plan on getting us in this time?" Sam asked.
"Don't worry, Sammy," Dean said with a smile. "I've already got it covered."
Sam just nodded and sat back in his seat, looking down at the map in his hands and directing Dean to their destination.
A few minutes later, they pulled up outside an old brick building. There was a sign over the front door that read River Trail Apartments.
"So this is the place?" Dean asked.
"Yep," Sam said. He pointed to a window on the second floor. "That would be the apartment right there."
Dean nodded. "Alright." He opened his door, and Sam followed suit. "Listen, let me do the talking."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Fine."
They walked up the steps to the front door of the building. It was an old-style set-up. Someone inside had to buzz you in if you didn't have a key, and you contacted the people inside through an intercom system. A list of tenants was placed under the intercom.
Dean stepped forward, running his finger down the list. He stopped at the one that read "Kelsey Williams", and scanned his finger over to the button next to the plate that read "2C". He pushed it, and there was a low buzzing sound.
A moment later, the buzzing stopped. It was replaced by a female voice. "Hello?"
"Yeah, hi. Is this Kelsey?"
"Um, yes," the voice replied, sounding a little confused.
"Kelsey, I'm Dean. My brother Sam and I were friends of your roommate Alisha. We had a couple classes with her out at the college."
A moment of silence. "Alisha was anti-social. She didn't have any friends from school. I'm not kidding, she really didn't. She had no friends at school."
"Damn," Dean muttered under his breath.
"And, besides that, Alisha passed away nearly six months ago," Kelsey continued. "Who is this?"
Dean was quiet for a moment, collecting his thoughts while Sam shifted his weight uneasily behind him. Dean pushed the button again. "Maybe I was a exaggerating a bit. We were acquaintences of Alisha's. We've been out of town for a while. Family matters, you know how it is."
"...Right," Kelsey said.
"So we were just wondering if we could talk to you," he said. "Pay our respects, so to speak."
A few moments of silence. "Alright. Come on up."
There was another buzz and a click, and the front door sprang ajar. Dean shot a grin back at Sam, then hopped up to catch the door before it closed. Sam just shook his head and followed Dean inside. There was no working elevator, so they headed for the stairs off from the lobby.
"I don't think she bought the story," Sam said quietly as they ascended the stairs.
"Just keep cool," Dean replied.
"I am cool," Sam said, sounding a bit miffed. "I'm just saying... It's like she knew you were lying but let us up anyway."
"Whatever," Dean said. "Let's just check out the apartment, ask her if she's noticed anything weird going on, see if we can find out where her dead roomie's buried, and get outta here."
Sam gave him a look.
"What?"
"Do you think you could have just a little more tact when we get in there?" Sam asked. "And possibly remove the words 'dead roomie' from your vocabulary?"
"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha," Dean said as they reached the second floor.
They walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a deep green door, upon which hung gold metal in the shape of "2C". Dean raised his hand and tapped his knuckles against the door. They heard some shuffling coming from the other side, and a female voice say, "Coming." A moment later, the door swung open.
Kelsey was a short girl—much shorter than Sam and Dean—about 5'4". She looked to be somewhere between seventeen and twenty years old. It was hard to tell. She could've just as easily passed for sixteen, if she tried. She was incredibly pale, as if she hadn't seen sunlight in months. She had thick, brown, blonde-highlighted hair that just brushed her shoulders. Her bangs crossed her forehead in a layered line. She looked up at the two of them with bright blue-green eyes, blinking up at them curiously. She wore old light-wash jeans that had holes in the knees and a black T-shirt with a robot on it. A good-sized scar on her upper right arm poked out from under her shirt sleeve. There was a plain silver ring on her right ring finger and round white gold stud earrings in her ears.
She certainly looked harmless enough. She wasn't overly muscular, anyway, though her slender body was toned to some degree.
"You must be Sam and Dean," she said.
"Yeah," Dean said with a nod, putting out his hand. "I'm Dean, and this is my brother Sam."
Sam gave a small smile and shook her hand as well. "Alisha mentioned you often. It's nice to finally meet you, Kelsey."
"Nice to meet both of you as well," she said with a smile. "Please, come in." She turned and walked back into the apartment, her bare feet slapping lightly on the wood floors.
Sam and Dean glanced around as they entered. It looked to be a typical apartment. Brick walls—just like outside—, hardwood floors... It was all very open, the kitchen, living room, and dining room separated only by the kitchen counter that was lined with barstools and housed the sink. A hallway stemmed off to the right past the kitchen, leading to the bedrooms and bathroom. Bookshelves framed the flat-screen TV that hung on the wall, and were filled with books of all sorts. Sam spotted several journals and sketchbooks on the shelves as well. Above the shelves of books and such were rows and rows of DVDs. She had a veritable library of them.
Picture frames sat on the shelves in front of the books, and housed pictures of families and friends. Most of them, though, had pictures of Kelsey and Alisha. Alisha was a full-figured, curvy girl with jet-black straight hair that fell past her shoulders. Her skin looked just as pale as Kelsey's in the pictures, and she looked around the same age, if not a little older.
Kelsey gestured to the couches that faced each other on the rug in the living room. "Please sit down. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"
"No, thanks, we're fine," Sam said as he and Dean sat down.
Kelsey nodded and took a seat on the couch opposite them. She sat forward, clasping her hands together and resting her arms on her thighs. "Funny. I don't think I've seen either of you before. And I thought I'd seen most of Alisha's old classmates at least once."
Dean chuckled. "Yeah, well, in a community college, how well do you really get to know people?"
Kelsey smiled a little. "That's true. So what class did you have with Alisha?"
This girl definitely wasn't planning on beating around the bush. Had Sam been right? Did she know they were lying? Was she trying to trip them up?
"English," Sam jumped in before Dean could spurt out some random class that would look overly suspicious. "We were in her English class." From the amount of books and journals they had, the two seemed like they'd be English nerds.
Kelsey cast a glance at the space over their heads, thinking. "Oh, well...she always sat in the back in English. That probably explains why I never heard her talk about you."
"Yeah," Dean said. "But just because she sat in the back— Well, she never was afraid to speak her mind, was she?"
Kelsey laughed softly. "No, definitely not." She sighed quietly.
"And, I mean, she was the favorite of the class," Sam said. "At least, that's what I remember. She wrote some really great stuff."
Kelsey nodded. "She was a terrific writer. Never believed it, of course, no matter how many times I told her. We were working on a novel together when she..." She blinked and looked at them. "Well, you know."
Sam and Dean nodded.
"How long did you know Alisha?" Sam asked.
Kelsey thought for a moment, looking over their heads again. "Oh...I'd say around five years. We met when we were juniors in high school."
"And then you moved here together?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Well, I moved first and spent a year on my own on campus, then moved here and she moved in with me." She laughed softly. "She and I... We were like sisters." Tears welled up in her eyes.
Sam and Dean shared a glance. "If you'd...rather not talk about it..." Sam started.
Kelsey shook her head. "No, no, I'm alright. After all, it's been six months. I can't be going all to pieces about it anymore. She wouldn't want that. Said it always broke her heart to see me upset."
"Well, don't you sort of have a right to be?" Dean asked. "I mean, not only did you have to deal with Alisha's death, but the break-in as well."
Kelsey looked at him for a moment. "Yeah, well...I guess you've got a point."
Sam and Dean looked at each other again. "If you don't mind us asking... How did it happen?" Sam asked.
Kelsey sighed. "A man wanted for robbery and assault broke in through her bedroom window. We were out here in the living room at the time. Anyway, we heard him. We tried to fight him off, but, well..." She shook her head. "He had a knife, and...he stabbed Alisha." She blinked away more tears.
"And you... You saw it happen?" Dean asked.
Kelsey shook her head. "No. He'd thrown me against a wall and knocked me out. Not before he cut me, naturally," she said, absentmindedly touching the scar on her upper right arm. "By the time I came to...Alisha was already dead. She must've fought him pretty hard, though, because I didn't have to lay a finger on him to get him to leave."
They were silent for a moment.
"And then he was caught two nights later," Dean said.
Kelsey nodded. "Yes. He's at the county prison now awaiting his sentencing. He's facing a sentence of thirty years to life."
Sam and Dean nodded. "We're so sorry, Kelsey," Sam said, sincere in his words.
She gave him a small smile. "Thanks. There's just been...a lot to deal with in the past six months."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, what with this place being haunted and all—"
Sam shot him a warning look.
"Haunted?" Kelsey asked curiously. She laughed once, her brow furrowing. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You know, all the weird things people in the building are seeing," Dean continued. "Objects floating across the room, cats going missing."
Kelsey rolled her eyes and leaned back against the couch. "I suppose I should've guessed that you'd be interested in that as well."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
She shrugged. "You're guys. And guys are always wanting to hear about the ghost stories. Even if they're just rumors." She shook her head. "People exaggerate. They freak out. They drink themselves silly, and then they're convinced they saw something. They think a pet goes missing when, in reality, it's just hiding in a closet or under the bed. There's also been people talking about flickering lights, and I just blame this building's wiring for that. I haven't had anything strange happening here in the apartment."
They looked at her. "So you're not freaked out by the stories?" Dean asked.
"No," she said, chuckling. "There are a lot of pranksters in this building. And Halloween wasn't too long ago. I think the mischievous intent has just hung around a little longer than usual."
"Is that why you didn't move out?" Dean asked. "Because you wanted to prove you're not scared?"
"No," Kelsey said. "I chose to stay because this was our home—still is our home. I can't just leave. Not yet, anyway. Besides, it's not like there's too many places in the area up for rent. And I do need a place to stay for school." She shrugged. "I've just got to learn to cope with it."
They looked at her again. "That's a really good attitude," Sam said.
Kelsey's cheeks flushed slightly and she shrugged again. "Thanks." She shook her head. "Anyway, I apologize. I've been rambling a bit."
"Not at all," Sam said.
"Yeah," Dean chimed in. "Feel free to ramble away."
Kelsey laughed softly, blushing again. She snapped her head up when a phone started ringing. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll be right back."
"Sure," Dean said.
She nodded and got up off the couch, going down the hall to her room and shutting the door behind her.
The two sat in silence for a few moments, looking around the room.
"You know..." Dean said. He looked at his brother. "She's kinda cute."
Sam gave him a look. "Is that all you were thinking about the whole time she was talking?"
"Of course not," Dean replied, offended. "I heard every word she said. I'm just saying..." He grinned a little at his brother. "Don't think I didn't notice her makin' eyes at you, Sammy."
Sam blushed lightly and shook his head. "You're obviously seeing things. She kept looking over our heads, not at us and certainly not at me."
"Aww," Dean said, fake-pouting. "Are you hurt that the cute girl couldn't even give you one little glance?"
"Forget about that," Sam said. "Focus on the case."
"Whatever," Dean said. "So this Alisha was obviously the victim of violent death. Which creates the opportunity for the birth of a vengeful spirit."
Sam shook his head. "But what would she need vengeance for? Kelsey confirmed that her killer is behind bars and facing life in prison."
"Right..." Dean said, thinking. "Maybe she's hanging around to get revenge on her old roommate—like we were saying earlier. Maybe there's more to the story of how Alisha died than Kelsey's letting on."
"Yeah, maybe..." He shook his head again. "I don't know, Dean. Something feels...off."
"You mean besides the catnappings, and how freakishly calm this girl seems when talking about the death of her friend and the possible reenactments of Paranormal Activity happening in her building?"
"She didn't seem...overly calm. But, yes, besides that."
"I get the feeling that, if a spirit is hanging around here," Dean said, "that it's gotta be Alisha."
"It definitely fits the timeline," Sam agreed. "The weird stuff started happening about six months ago, shortly after Alisha was killed. And her death was the only recent one in the building's history."
Dean nodded. "So we just gotta find where she's buried and salt and torch her."
Sam sighed. "I feel like it's not going to be that easy."
"You really think Kelsey's lying to us?"
"Not lying," Sam corrected. "Just...leaving something out."
They fell silent when they heard a doorhandle turning down the hall. Kelsey came back out and looked at them, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Sorry about that."
"Don't worry about it," Dean said.
Kelsey looked at them, leaning on her arms on the back of the couch. "So...did you guys have any other questions? Or...want to talk about anything else?"
"We did have one other question," Sam said.
Kelsey looked at him expectantly, her blue-green eyes boring into his own.
"We wanted to pay our respects to Alisha, if that's possible," he continued. "Would you mind telling us where she's buried?"
Kelsey looked at them. "Well, I'm sorry to tell you this, but she's not buried anywhere. She'd confided in me that she wanted to be cremated, and that's what I did."
That was the one thing the Winchester brothers hated hearing most of all when it came to spirits. Made their jobs that much more difficult.
Kelsey started. "I mean, I didn't cremate her! Not me personally, of course! A mortician did it, naturally! I—" She laughed nervously. "That just...came out wrong..."
Dean raised an eyebrow at her, and Sam smiled a little.
She cleared her throat. "Anyway, um..."
"Right," Sam said as he and Dean stood.
"Oh, I, uh, didn't mean that you have to leave," she said quickly. "I don't want it to seem like I'm kicking you out or anything. I just figured...if there's nothing else you wanted to know..."
"It's okay," Sam said, "we get it."
"Okay," Kelsey said. "Listen, you know where to find me. If you need anything else, or..."
Isn't that what we usually tell people? Dean wondered.
"Um, actually, wait a second..." Sam fished out a scrap of paper and pen out of his jacket pocket. He scribbled out his number and handed it to Kelsey. "If you need to contact us for any reason, that's my number there."
"Yeah," Dean said, "we're right here in town. If you need someone to talk to, you see something or...whatever."
Kelsey looked at the paper, then at them. "Okay. Thanks. That means a lot. Um, while we're at it..." She snatched a sticky note from a pad on the counter behind her, grabbed a pen, and wrote down her own number. She handed it to Sam. "Just in case, you know." She blushed a little.
Sam nodded and looked at the note. "Right, thanks."
She gave them a smile. "And, listen, thanks for stopping by. And listening to all that. I hope I didn't bore you."
"No, you didn't," Sam said with a slight smile. "Thanks for having us."
Kelsey nodded. "Sure thing." She walked them over to the door.
"Oh, uh, one last thing, I promise," Dean said, smiling.
"And what's that?" she asked.
"How old are you?"
Sam shot him another look.
Kelsey started slightly. "Oh, I'm nineteen. I'll be twenty in about two weeks. Why do you ask?"
Dean shrugged and shook his head, still smiling. "No reason. Just curious."
Kelsey nodded. "Alright then. And I have one last question for you."
"Shoot," Dean said.
She hooked her thumb over her shoulder toward the window in the kitchen. "That car out there—the black one. Is it yours?"
Dean smiled proudly. "Yeah."
Kelsey nodded, smiling approvingly. "A '67 Chevy Impala. Very nice. Very classy."
They looked at her, slightly surprised. And she knows cars, Dean thought.
"Anyway, I'll stop delaying you," she said.
"Right, we'd better be headed out anyway," Sam said.
She waved at them from inside the doorway as they walked away and said, "See you."
They gave half-waves back and Dean said, "See you." Then they headed back down the stairs, talking in hushed voices.
"So what d'you think our next move should be?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, man. There's no bones to burn, so that makes things difficult..." Dean thought for a moment. "There could be something in the apartment that she's holding onto. But I don't know how we could get in there to look around the place without her knowing." His eyes lit up. "Unless..."
Sam looked at him as they stepped out into the mid-November air and went over to the Impala. "Unless what?"
Dean leaned his forearms on the top of the car and grinned at Sam.
Sam stared at him. He knew that look.
"Well...if one of us was to use that number she gave us and ask her out...then the other one of us could sneak in and do some investigating while the other was out with her and be done and gone before they got back."
"And you want that first one of us to be me, right?" Sam asked dryly.
"Yep," Dean said, still grinning. "Although... Now I'm not so sure. She knows cars. Girls like that are hard to come by. Maybe I'll take her out instead." He got into the car.
Sam got in as well.
"Of course, she's not even twenty yet..." Dean mused as he started the car. "I don't really see her as the party-hard type." He grinned. "But she'd probably loosen up after you got some tequila in her."
Sam scoffed as Dean pulled the car out onto the road. "Something tells me you're not her type."
"Suddenly you're an expert?" Dean asked. "How could you possibly know? I bet she thinks I'm cute, I bet you anything."
Sam shook his head. "She likes your car, Dean. Those were the only vibes I was getting. And I get the feeling you're not her type because of the books she had. She had Shakespeare, Plato, Tolstoy, Brontë, Dante, Austen, Dickens—classics and poetry everywhere."
"Yeah, well, she also had all the Harry Potter books so far in hardback on their own shelf next to all the movies so far."
"What's weird about that? So she likes Harry Potter."
"On their own shelf, Sam."
"Anyway!" Sam said.
Dean sighed. "Well, if you think she's such a nerd, then you take her out. You can dazzle her with your intelligence, college boy."
Sam rolled his eyes. "I don't think it's a good idea, Dean."
"What? Why?"
"Just call her up and take her out so we can break into her place? Then drop off the face of the earth like we always do once the case is over?"
Dean slapped a hand against the steering wheel. "Well, have you got a better idea of how to get her out of there so we can look around?"
"No, but—"
"Then it's settled. Call her up after we find a motel and take her out." He grinned. "I'll even let you take the car."
Sam furrowed his brow and looked at his brother. "What's with you?"
"What?" Dean asked.
"You'd let me take the Impala? You hardly even let me drive it. Now you're saying you'd leave me alone with it?"
"It really has been a long time since you've been on a date, hasn't it? Sammy, you need a ride to pick her up in!"
"Then how are you going to get from the motel to here and back to the motel before we get back?" Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. "No, no, you're not weaseling your way outta this. I'll figure something out."
They drove on in silence for a few moments.
"Dean."
"Yeah?"
"We really don't need a grand theft auto charge over our heads, alright?"
"I know, I know!"
"...So you didn't deny you were considering it."
"...Yeah, I know.