Carry On My Wayward Son – The Beginning
A/N: So, this is my first foray into writing and posting Supernatural fanfic. I just discovered the show a couple of months ago (how did I ever miss seeing this show before?) and as soon as Dean said "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days" I was hooked. And totally smitten with Dean. I am now officially obsessed with him, and I want Dean to be happy, so I've come up with this idea to rewrite each Supernatural episode with an OC for Dean. We will see how she develops…
I'm thinking of laying this out as each season will be a story and each episode will be a chapter. I am taking some artistic license with them and will be changing some things and some dialogue. Also, it is rated M for a reason as I don't see the boys editing their language like on TV and also for smut. I can't help it… Dean plus smut makes this girl happy!
I hope you enjoy. Please drop me a line when you are done and let me know what you think! I also apologize for any weird formatting. I'm posting this from my iPad for the first time, so if something looks wonky, let me know so I can fix it.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. I'm only playing with the characters and will return them when I'm done.
Chapter 1 – Pilot
Sam Winchester ran his hands through his hair one last time, wishing he could think of a good reason to stay at home instead of attending a big Halloween party at one of the local pubs. He would much rather stay in and maybe watch a scary movie with Jessica or study.
"Sam! Get a move on, would ya?" Jessica Moore yelled at him, fastening her earring. "We were supposed to be there like fifteen minutes ago. Sam! You coming or what?"
He stuck his head out of the bathroom door and flashed his dimples at her. "Do I have to?" he asked.
Jess turned to face him and smiled. "Yes! It'll be fun. And where's your costume?"
He scoffed, a grin still on his face when he saw her. She was dressed in a slutty nurse costume with a fitted corset, extremely short skirt and red fuck me heeled boots. She definitely looked hot, and he certainly didn't mind showing up at a party with her on his arm. He was one lucky bastard. "You know how I feel about Halloween," he replied, still dressed in his clothes from earlier in the day, his denim jacket still on.
She smiled, looking up at him from under her eyelashes. He was 6'4" and super handsome with his shaggy hair and killer smile. He was smart and funny and sweet, and she knew he was one of the main catches on campus. "Please?" she drawled out, knowing exactly how to get her way with him. "I'll make it worth your while later...when we get home," she said softly, pulling her lower lip between her teeth.
Sam shook his head and smiled at her. "Fine. I'll go, but I'm only doing it for you," he said, kissing her quickly before guiding her out of the apartment.
When they arrived, they found their friends who had already claimed a table. Drinks and shots were ordered, and neither Sam nor Jessica wasted any time. She stood by the table and held her shot glass up. "So, here's to Sam and his awesome LSAT victory!"
He clinked his glass with hers and Luis's, embarrassed. His dad had never recognized any kind of academic success, only monster kills, so he had never gotten comfortable being in the spotlight for his intelligence. "All right, all right. It's not that big a deal."
Jess, however, was extremely proud of her boyfriend. "He acts all humble, but he scored a 174."
Luis set his glass down quickly. "Is that good?" he asked. Even though he wasn't sure what a "good" score was, he was impressed. He knew Sam was super smart, and he knew he would make an excellent lawyer one day.
"Scary good," Jessica replied with a smile before downing her shot.
Luis slapped Sam on the shoulder in congratulations. "You are a first round draft pick," he said. "You can go to any law school you want."
Sam grinned shyly. "Actually, I got an interview here Monday. If it goes okay, I think I got a shot at a full ride next year."
Jess leaned forward and smiled at him. "Hey, it's gonna go great."
Sam smiled back and shook his head slightly. "It better."
"How does it feel to be the golden boy in your family?" Luis asked loudly.
"Ah, they don't know," Sam replied, shaking his head.
"Oh, no. I would be gloating! Why not?" Luis asked, standing up.
"Cause we're not exactly the Bradys," Sam said, throwing a wadded up straw at him.
"I'm not exactly the Huxtables," he said snarkily. "More shots?"
"No," Sam and Jess both said at the same time, but Luis ignored them and headed to the bar.
"Seriously," Jessica said to Sam, "I'm proud of you. And you're gonna knock them dead on Monday. You're gonna get that full ride. I know it."
Sam felt a warm feeling spread inside. It had been a long time since anyone had told him that. To his dad, he had basically been a disappointment as he hadn't wanted to go into the "family business" and wanted to go to college and live a normal life. "What would I do without you?" he asked her softly.
Jess grinned at the compliment. "Crash and burn," she joked, pulling him in and kissing him soundly.
They spent another hour at the party before heading home. Sam had had enough of the whole Halloween thing, plus the tequila shots were giving him a headache. He was ready to take a shower and go to bed.
XXX
"Are you sure about this?" Devon McClane asked worriedly.
Dean Winchester turned to look at her and scoffed. "Uh, yeah," he simply said, returning to picking the lock in front of him.
"Why didn't you just call him, though? You haven't seen Sam in two years, and now, you're just gonna break into his apartment? In the middle of the night? What if he shoots you?"
He smirked as the lock clicked open. He pushed the door open silently and grinned at her. "He's not gonna shoot me," he said confidently and walked inside. Devon followed him silently, a few yards back.
Dean walked into the living room, and Devon watched as he was grabbed from behind. She stared silently as Dean fought against who she knew was Sam, but she was still too shocked to say anything. She wondered why Dean didn't just announce to Sam who he was.
They threw each other around the room, trading kicks and blocking punches. Finally, Dean managed to take him to the ground, and the streetlight outside illuminated his face. "Whoa, easy, tiger," he joked with a smirk.
Sam looked up at him in shock, trying to catch his breath. "Dean?" he asked, amazed. "You scared the shit out of me."
"That's cause you're out of practice."
Sam gritted his teeth and rolled them over, so he was now on top of Dean, his hand at his throat.
Dean chuckled. "Or not. Get off me," he said, pushing his younger brother off of him and letting Sam help pull him to his feet.
"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked, still in shock.
Dean clapped him on the shoulders, looking at his little brother and grinning. "I was looking for a beer. You remember Devon, right?" he asked as she came over to stand by him.
Sam hugged her quickly. "Of course, but why is she with you?"
She squeezed him back before stepping away. "Long story," she said when the light was flipped on.
"Sam?" Jessica asked, her eyes still heavy with sleep. They all looked over at her at the same time.
"Jess, hey. Dean, Devon…this is my girlfriend, Jessica."
A look of surprise and excitement crossed her face. "Wait. Your brother, Dean?"
Dean smirked at her. "I love the Smurfs," he said, indicating her cutoff top she had been sleeping in that revealed a little too much skin. "Ow!" he yelled when Devon slapped him across the back of the head, making Sam chuckle. "This is my girlfriend, Devon. You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother's league."
She smiled. "Just let me put something on."
Dean shook his head. "No, no! I wouldn't dream of it, seriously." He turned to Sam when Devon cleared her throat. He couldn't help it; he was a hopeless flirt. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here. Talk about some private family business, but nice meeting you."
Jessica just stood there and looked at Sam.
"No," Sam said, determined. He walked over and stood beside her. "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."
Dean pursed his lips for a second and put his arm around Devon, reflecting the way Sam and Jess were standing. "Okay. Um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam scoffed. "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."
Dean nodded and looked pointedly at his brother. "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."
Sam felt his stomach clench. Even though he had fallen out with his dad and they hadn't spoken in four years, he knew what that meant. And he didn't want anything bad to happen to his dad. He stared at Dean for a moment. "Jess, excuse us," he said. He had never told Jessica about his past – about hunting. One, he had left that life behind him. Two, he was afraid she would think he was crazy.
"Okay," she said, questions on her face. He kissed her quickly and followed Dean and Devon outside.
"So, what do you want me to do?" he asked Dean as he shut the door behind them.
Dean headed down the stairs, Devon on his heels. "I need you to come with us to find Dad."
"Come on, you can't just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said.
"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help us find him."
Sam threw his hands up. "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 stopped and turned to him, Devon barreling into his chest at his sudden stop. He caught her easily. "Not for this long. Now, are you gonna come with me or not?"
"I'm not."
"Why not?" Dean asked, beginning to get pissed off. Devon put her hand on his arm, not wanting them to get into a real fight on the stairs.
Sam looked at them both seriously. "I swore I was done hunting...for good."
Dean scoffed again. "Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad." He turned and walked away. He had never really understood what Sam had against hunting. He had always loved it. It was what he was good at.
"Yeah?" Sam asked in disbelief. "When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45!"
"What was he supposed to do?" Dean asked, facing his brother again.
Sam looked at him in surprise. "I was nine years old. He was supposed to say 'don't be afraid of the dark.'"
Dean looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "'Don't be afraid of the dark?' Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark! You know what's out there!"
"Yeah, I know. Still...after the way we grew up after Mom was killed and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her, but we still haven't found the damn thing. So, we kill everything we can find."
"Save a lot of people doing it, too," Dean retorted.
Sam stared at him. "You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" he asked.
Dean turned and pushed the door open, walking away from Sam, Devon behind him. His mother was always a sore subject for him.
"The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets?" Sam asked, following them. "Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."
"So, what are you gonna do?" Dean asked him. "Are you just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?"
"No, not normal. Safe."
Dean glared at him. "And that's why you ran away." He scoffed, shaking his head.
"I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone," Sam said. "And that's what I'm doing."
"Yeah, but Dad's in real trouble right now, if he's not dead already. I can feel it," Dean replied. They stared at each other for a moment. "I can't do this without you," Dean finally said, looking away.
"Yes, you can," Sam said, surprised.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. But I don't want to."
Sam sighed. "What was he hunting?" he finally asked.
"Follow me," Dean said, leading him to the trunk of the 1967 Impala his dad had given him. He opened the trunk and propped the false bottom up with a sawed off shotgun. Handguns, knives, crucifixes and an assortment of other weapons for hunting monsters was revealed. His weapon collection was one thing Dean was very proud of. "Where the hell did I put that thing?" he muttered, shifting through stuff.
"So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?" Sam asked.
"I was working my own gig – this voodoo thing down in New Orleans."
Sam scoffed. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"
Dean looked at him, surprised. "I'm twenty-six, dude. Beside, Devon was with me. All right, here we go. So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California." He leafed through a stack of papers he had printed out earlier. "About a month ago, this guy… They found his car, but he'd vanished. Completely MIA." He handed the paper to Sam.
Sam skimmed the article. "So, maybe he was kidnapped."
"Yeah, well, here's another one in April, another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92, ten of them over the past twenty years. All men. All the same five mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I haven't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I get this voicemail yesterday." He pulled a small recorder out and hit play.
"Dean, something is starting to happen," John's voice said, slightly distorted. "I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on. Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."
Dean pushed stop and looked at Sam.
"You know there's EVP on that?" Sam asked.
"Not bad, Sammy. Kind of like riding a bike, isn't it? All right. I slowed the message down and ran it through a GoldWave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got." He pushed play again, and a female voice came through the speakers saying, "I can never go home."
"Never go home," Sam repeated.
Dean nodded and stood up, shutting the trunk. "You know, in almost two years, I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." He stared at Sam and wrapped an arm around Devon, who had moved closer to him in the dark.
Sam sighed. "All right, I'll go. I'll help you find him, but I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here."
"What's first thing Monday?"
"I have an interview."
"What, a job interview? Skip it," Dean said with a shrug, making Devon shake her head at his nonchalance about a real job.
Sam straightened up. "It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."
Dean smirked at him. "Law school?"
"So, we got a deal or not?"
He looked at Sam for a moment, and then nodded his head. "Sure. I'll have you back here by Monday morning."
Sam nodded in reply. "Okay. Wait here. I'll be back in a minute." He sprinted back up the stairs to the apartment. He pulled his duffle bag out of the closet and started packing items he had never thought he would use again.
Jessica walked in and found him packing. "Wait, you're taking off? Is this about your dad? Is he all right?"
Sam tried to play it off, not wanting to worry her, but mostly not wanting to get into details. As far as Jess knew, he was a normal guy. "Yeah. You know, just a little family drama."
"But your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip."
Sam threw some clothes in his bag. He felt bad about lying to Jessica, but the less she knew about hunting, the better. "Ah, yeah… He's just deer hunting up at the cabin, and he's probably got Jim, Jack and Jose all along with him. We're just gonna go bring him back." His dad's alcohol use had always been a sore subject for him.
"What about the interview?"
"I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days." He zipped the bag up and started to walk away.
Jessica stopped him. "Sam, I mean, please. Just stop for a second. Are you sure you're okay?"
Sam looked her in the eyes. "Hey, everything's gonna be okay. I promise." He kissed her on the cheek and walked out the door.
"At least tell me where you're going!" she called, but he ignored her, not wanting to say anymore than he already had.
XXX
Devon stood by the back of the Impala, stretching her back. She had slept in the back seat while Dean had driven, and he and Sam had caught up. She hadn't wanted to interfere in their brotherly bonding time.
Dean walked out of the gas station, holding up a bag of chips, a soft drink and a candy bar. "Hey, you want breakfast?" he asked Sam, who was sitting in the front seat.
Sam made a face at his brother's food choices. "No, thanks. So, how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?" He was shifting through an old shoe box full of cassette tapes.
Dean was filling the car up with gas. "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."
Sam laughed. "Yeah, and what names did you write on the application this time?"
He had replaced the gas cap, and Devon slid into the front seat ahead of him, so she was between the Winchesters. "Uh… Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal," he said with a grin, handing his breakfast to Devon while he got settled in the driver's seat.
Sam laughed again. "Sounds about right." He was still looking through the tapes. "I swear, man, you have got to update your cassette tape collection."
Dean looked insulted. "Why?"
"Well, for one – they're cassette tapes. And two…Black Sabbath, Motörhead, Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."
Dean grabbed the Metallica tape from Sam and stuck it in the radio. "House rules, Sammy – driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole." He tossed the case back into the box and started the car.
Devon just shook her head and smiled. She knew Dean was happy to have his brother along, and she loved to see Dean happy. She knew he had missed Sam a lot after he had left Kansas to go to Stanford.
"Sammy is a chubby twelve year old. It's Sam, okay?"
Rock music began blaring out of the speakers. "Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud," Dean yelled, making Devon shake her head in amusement. He punched the gas and sped out onto the road, engine revving.
They drove another hour or so before they saw a sign that said "Jericho – 7." Sam had been making calls from his cell phone for the last half hour. "All right, so there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or the morgue. So that's something, I guess."
They then saw an old bridge with several police cars parked beside it. "Check it out," Dean said. Sam and Devon craned their necks to look, and Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road to park. He opened the glovebox door and pulled out an old cigar box, flipping through a plethora of fake IDs. Sam looked at them in amazement. He handed Devon hers and grabbed his, then opened his door. "Let's go," he said, smirking at Sam.
The trio walked up to the officers working the scene and overheard one of them say to another one, "So, this kid, Troy… He's dating your daughter, isn't he? How's Amy doing?" Devon saw Dean take in the entire conversation and stayed silent.
"You fellas had another one like this last month, didn't you?" Dean asked.
The deputy looked at him. "And who are you?"
Dean and Devon both flashed their fake badges. "Federal Marshals," Dean replied.
The man looked at them both surprised. "You three are a little young for Marshals, aren't you?"
She wasn't worried because she had seen Dean talk his way out of so much shit. The man just oozed confidence.
Dean laughed in response. "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this, correct?"
"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There have been others before that."
Sam stepped forward. "So this victim…you knew him?"
The deputy nodded. "A town like this, everybody knows everybody."
"Any connection between the victims besides that they're all men?"
"No. Not so far as we can tell."
"So, what's the theory?" Devon asked.
"Honestly? We don't know. Serial murderer, kidnapping ring..."
"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys," Dean said snarkily. He flinched when Sam stomped on his foot, and Devon had to bit her lip to keep from laughing. The deputy just stared at them in what she thought was either confusion or amazement.
"Thank you for your time, gentlemen," Sam said politely and walked off, Dean following him and Devon practically jogging to keep up with their long-legged strides. Dean often forgot how short she was.
Dean caught up with Sam and smacked him up the back of the head.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"
"Why do you have to talk to police like that?"
Devon shook her head in amusement. They were bickering like an old married couple.
Dean looked at him in surprise. "Come on. They don't really know what's going on," he said, stepping in front of Sam. "We're all alone on this. If we're gonna find Dad, we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Devon saw the suits heading toward them and cleared her throat, making Dean turn around.
"Can I help you?" the sheriff asked, two Feds with him.
"No, sir. We were just leaving," Dean said. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully," he greeted as the two Feds walked past them, and he led them back to the Impala.
"Now what?" Devon asked, sliding back into the middle of the seat.
"Let's go see if we can find this Amy that dated this guy, and see what she knows. That one guy said she was putting up posters downtown," Dean replied, and he squealed off in the direction of town.
XXX
They parked the car and got out, walking down the tree-lined sidewalk. They had decided to take a different approach if they found the girlfriend.
"I'll bet you that's her," Dean said, spotting a brunette hanging posters up in various business windows. "You must be Amy. Troy told us about you. We're his uncles; this is my girlfriend," he said to her. "I'm Dean. This is Sammy, and this is Devon."
"He never mentioned you to me," she said, turning to walk off.
Dean followed her and turned on the charm. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much. We're up in Modesto."
"So, we're looking for him, too, and we're kind of asking around," Sam said.
Another girl walked up to them. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked Amy.
"Yeah."
"Do you mind if we ask you a couple of questions?" Sam asked in his soft voice, and Devon couldn't imagine any female denying either of the Winchester brothers anything…ever. They were just too damn gorgeous and charming and sweet.
Amy nodded and headed into a coffee shop. They all grabbed a table, and she began to tell them what had happened. "I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, but he never did."
"He didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked.
She shook her head. "No, nothing I can remember."
"Here's the deal, ladies," Dean said. "The way Troy disappeared…something's not right. So, if you've heard anything…"
Dean and Devon exchanged glances when the two girls looked at each other.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Well, it's just… I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk."
"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean asked in unison, making Devon chuckle.
The friend shifted in her seat. "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like, decades ago. Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up… Well, they disappear forever."
The three of them exchanged a knowing look and stood up. "Ladies, thank you for your time. We'll be on the lookout." Dean then put his hand on the small of Devon's back and gently pushed her toward the door.
"Let's go to the library. See what we can dig up about this murder out on Centennial," Sam said.
"When in doubt, go to the library," Dean joked, earning him a scowl from Sam. "Don't look at me like that. That's what Devon always says. I call her Hermione."
She shrugged and climbed back into the car. "Well, it's true," she retorted, causing Sam to laugh.
They found the public library and went over to the computers. Dean pulled up the local paper's website and began searching for articles on a murder on Centennial Highway, but nothing was coming up.
"Let me try," Sam said impatiently, reaching for the keyboard.
Dean smacked his hand. "I got it."
Sam pushed him, his chair wheeling away.
"Dude," Dean complained, but Sam just began typing. "You're such a control freak," he complained, slapping him on the shoulder.
"Boys," Devon scolded and wiggled her way onto Dean's lap so she could see the computer screen. He wrapped his arms loosely around her waist, and they both leaned forward.
"So, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?" Sam asked, typing. "Maybe it's not murder." He typed in "suicide" and an article popped up on the screen. They all leaned closer to read it. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."
"Does it say why she did it?" Devon asked, looking sadly at the picture of a beautiful woman with a big smile.
"Yeah. An hour before they found her, she calls 911. 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."
"That bridge look familiar to you?" Dean asked, pointing at the picture on the screen with a pen.
"That's where we were earlier," Devon said.
"I think we need to pay another visit," Dean replied.
By the time they had left the library and gotten dinner, it was dark. Dean drove back to the old, shut down bridge and parked so his headlights were pointing down it. They walked to the middle of the bridge and stopped, looking over the edge.
"So, this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean said.
"So, you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked, looking down into the dark water.
Dean shrugged. "Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him."
"Okay, so now what?" Sam asked.
Dean turned and began walking farther down the bridge. "Now we keep digging till we find him. It might take a while."
Sam stopped walking. "Dean, I told you…I've gotta get back by –"
"Monday," Dean interrupted. "Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer, marry your girl?"
Devon didn't like where this conversation was headed, but she kept her mouth shut, biting her lip.
Sam shrugged. "Maybe. Why not?" he asked defensively.
"Does Jessica know the truth about you?" Dean asked. "I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"
"No, and she's not ever going to know," Sam retorted, taking a few steps toward his brother.
Dean nodded. "Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to face up to who you really are." He turned and began to walk away.
"And who is that?" Sam asked, beginning to get pissed off.
"One of us."
He jogged to catch up to Dean and stepped in front of him. "No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."
Dean stared at him. "Well, you have a responsibility."
"To Dad and his Crusade?" Sam asked in disbelief. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."
Dean glared at him and suddenly pushed him up against the rail of the bridge, Sam's shirt bunched in his fists. Devon ran over to them and put her hand on his arm, trying to calm him down. Dean took a deep breath. "Don't talk about her like that." They stared at each other for a moment before Dean gave him a small shove, dropped his hands, and stepped back. Devon took a deep breath and then gasped.
"Guys…" she whispered, staring at a woman in white standing on the bridge railing. The woman looked at them, and then she stepped off. They all ran over to where she had fallen from, but unsurprisingly, she was now nowhere to be seen.
"Where'd she go?" Dean asked.
"I don't know," Sam replied, their fight already forgotten for the moment. Suddenly, they heard the engine of the Impala turn over, and the headlights came on. They all stepped forward.
"What the…?" Dean muttered.
"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked, and Dean held the keys up. Suddenly, the tires squealed, and the Impala began racing towards them on the bridge.
"Fuck," Dean said before grabbing Devon's hand and pulling her down the bridge at a full run.
Sam was right beside them. "Come on, guys. Let's go! Go!"
They were running as fast as they could, but there was no way to outrun the car. When they got closer to the end of the bridge, they all dived over the rail. Dean had over calculated, though, and fell in a giant mud puddle while Sam and Devon had managed to hang on to the rail. The Impala screeched to a halt, and the motor stopped. Sam pulled himself up and then helped pull Devon back onto the bridge. They looked for Dean and saw him lying on his back on the riverbank.
"Hey, are you all right?"Devon yelled at him.
He looked up at them and made the "ok" signal with his hand. "I'm super," he said flatly.
Sam and Devon looked at each other and giggled. Dean was covered head to toe with mud. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, before walking back up onto the bridge. He popped the hood and checked the motor and belts before grabbing a towel from the trunk and trying to clean some of the mud off.
"Car all right?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems all right now. That Constance chick…what a BITCH!" he shouted, making Devon chuckle again. No one fucked with Dean's car and got away with it. They all leaned against the front end.
"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure," Devon said.
Sam sat beside his brother. "So, where's the trail go from here, genius?"
Dean threw his hands up, aggravated at the whole situation and flicking mud off of his hands.
They all sat in silence for a moment before Sam started sniffing. "You smell like a toilet," he said suddenly, looking at Dean.
"Fuck you," Dean said, but Devon saw the small smile on his face. "Let's go."
They drove to the only motel in town and walked into the office. Dean had wiped most of the mud off, but he was still filthy. He tossed the credit card down onto the sign-in book. "One room, please," he said, wanting nothing more than a shower and clean clothes. Since Sam was only with them for the weekend, he figured they could all share a room. He could keep his hands off Devon for two nights.
The clerk looked at them. "You guys having a reunion or something?" he asked, looking at the card.
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"That other guy, Bert Aframian. He came in and bought out a room for the whole month."
The three of them looked at each other. "Um, yeah," Devon said. "We're supposed to let him know when we get here. What room is he in?" she asked sweetly. She could also turn on the charm when needed. Of course, Dean hated it when she flirted with younger guys, but she did it anyway. And she always got the information they needed.
"Room ten," the clerk told her. He wrote them down in his roster and had Dean sign the credit card receipt and then handed them their key.
They immediately headed toward room ten. Sam went to work picking the lock, and in no time, had the door open. He and Devon stepped inside, and he pulled Dean in quickly, shutting the door. They all looked around in amazement. The walls were covered in maps and articles and photos. The desk was covered in books, and a half-eaten burger was on the nightstand. Dean turned a light on, and they noticed the circle of salt on the floor. This was John Winchester's room, all right.
"I don't think he's been here for a couple of days, at least," Dean said.
Sam had bent down and was running his fingers through the salt on the floor. "Salt. Cat's eye shell. He was worried, trying to keep something from coming in."
Dean looked at the papers hanging on the wall.
"What do you got here?" Sam asked.
"Centennial Highway victims. I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?" Dean said, continuing to look at the articles his father had collected.
Sam looked at the wall that had clippings and information about different entities, such as demons and witches. He stopped when he came to a label that said "woman in white." The article about Constance Welch was taped underneath it. "Dad figured it out," he said, amazement in his voice.
"What do you mean?" Devon asked, skimming through the books on the desk.
"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."
Dean turned back to the wall of victims. "You sly dogs," he said with a grin. "All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."
Sam stared at the wall. "She might have another weakness."
"No, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"
"No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."
They all stared at the article again. "All right, why don't you see if you can find an address? I'm gonna get cleaned up," Dean said, heading toward their room.
Sam stopped him. "Hey, Dean, what I said earlier about Mom and Dad… I'm sorry."
Dean held up his hand. "No chick flick moments."
Sam laughed and nodded. "All right. Jerk."
"Bitch," Dean replied with a grin. He walked out of the door to go take a shower.
Devon had already headed toward their room, but Sam stopped when he spotted something on the dresser mirror. He looked closer and was surprised to see an old photo of his dad, Dean and himself when he was about eight years old, sitting on the Impala. He pulled it off and stuck it in his pocket before heading to their room. He was still super curious about why Devon was hunting with Dean. They had known her for years, and she and Dean had been dating before he left for school, but Dean had always said she would hunt over his dead body. She had said it was a long story, so he hadn't pushed it. She was sitting at the desk when he walked in, Dean singing a KISS song very loudly in the shower.
"So, you and Dean still together, huh?" he said, sitting down on the end of the bed.
She smiled. "Yeah."
He laughed. "It just surprises me. I didn't think he could manage a long term relationship."
Devon shrugged. "I'm not saying it's been all sunshine and rainbows, but we manage to hold it together."
"And you're a hunter now?"
She laughed. "I don't know about that. I do all right, but I wouldn't want to do it without Dean. He's saved my ass too many times to count."
He smiled. "Yeah, mine, too." His phone chimed at that point to let him know he had a voicemail. He pressed the buttons and heard Jessica's voice.
At that moment, though, Dean came out of the bathroom. "Hey, I'm starving. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat at that diner down the street. You want anything?" he asked Sam, but he shook his head. "Aframian's buying! I'll meet you at the car, babe."
She nodded and dug through her purse, looking for her makeup bag. She knew she looked like shit.
Dean had put his dad's leather jacket on that he had taken from his room and started across the parking lot when he saw a sheriff's car in front of the motel office. He then saw the clerk point directly at him. He turned and quickly dug his phone out of his pocket. "Dude, five-oh. Take off," he said as soon as Sam answered the phone.
"What about you?" Sam asked, standing up quickly and getting Devon's attention.
"Uh, they kind of spotted me. Go find Dad," he said then hung up and turned to face the two deputies that were quickly walking toward him. "Problem, officers?" he asked innocently.
"Where are your partners?" the deputy from earlier asked.
Dean laughed. "Partners? What…what partners?"
The deputy pointed toward their room, and the other officer headed that way. Dean hoped Sam and Devon had gotten out of the back window.
"So… Fake U.S. Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"
"My boobs," Dean said and then gave him a big smile. However, the deputy didn't find it funny and pushed him down on the hood of his cruiser, snapping handcuffs on him and reading him his rights. He knew he would be going to the sheriff's station next, but he wasn't worried. He didn't have anything on him that told his true identity, and he could get out of anything. He just had to bide his time and wait for the opportune moment.
Sam had pushed Devon into the bathroom and was pushing her out of the window while the deputy was banging on the door. Luckily, she had a set of keys to the Impala in her purse, so they would come back later and get the car once it was clear.
XXX
After he placed a false 911 call about shots fired to give Dean a chance to escape, Sam had dropped Devon off at the library while he went to talk to Mr. Welch. She had wanted to do more research on the woman in white phenomenon and knew Mr. Welch would be more likely to talk to Sam if he was by himself. He had a calming effect on people and could get them to open up easily. He had talked with the husband and was now heading to the old Welch homestead when his phone rang. Dean's voice came over the line when he answered it.
"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? I don't know. That's pretty illegal. Is Devon with you?"
Sam smiled. "You're welcome. And no, I dropped her at the library."
"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean said.
"Tell me about it," Sam said. "So, the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. She's buried behind her old house."
"Sammy, would you shut up for a second?" Dean was already walking toward the public library.
Sam continued. "I can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."
"That's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho."
"What? How do you know?" Sam asked.
Dean paused for a moment. "I've got his journal."
"He doesn't go anywhere without that," Sam replied.
"Well, he did this time," Dean retorted.
"What's it say?"
"Same old ex-Marine shit when he wants to let us know where he's going."
"Coordinates. Where to?" Sam asked.
"I'm not sure yet."
Sam paused. "Dean, what the hell is going on?"
Suddenly, Sam slammed on the brakes. "Whoa!" he shouted. A woman in a white dress was suddenly standing in the road in front of him. He ran right through her, tires screeching.
"Sam! Sam!" Dean yelled over the phone. He was jogging now. He needed to get Devon and find a car they could steal easily to get to Sam.
Sam sat and tried to catch his breath when he noticed the woman was now sitting in the backseat. "Take me home," she demanded.
He stared at her in the rearview mirror.
"Take me home," she demanded again.
"No," he replied. Suddenly, the locks all clicked shut, and Sam couldn't pull his up. While he was trying to unlock the doors, the accelerator depressed, and the car shot forward, the engine revving. He was heading down the highway but had no control. Before he knew it, they were pulling up to the old house where Constance had murdered her children. "Don't do this," he said.
She looked up at the house sadly. "I can never go home."
"You're scared to go home." He looked in the backseat, but she was gone. Suddenly, she was in the seat next to him and had straddled him, pushing him back. He groaned at the pain.
"Hold me," she said softly, leaning over him. "I'm so cold." She stared at him, her eyes hard.
"You can't kill me," he said. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been."
She leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You will be."She then started kissing him, and he made sure that he didn't kiss her back, instead focusing on reaching the keys in the ignition. She then sat up and disappeared. He screamed as he suddenly felt as if someone was stabbing him in the chest with a white hot poker. He opened his sweatshirt up and saw five holes burned in his t-shirt, and Constance appeared to him, pressing her hand into his chest. He screamed in pain, but she wouldn't stop.
He was shocked when gunshots sounded, and the driver's side window exploded. Dean ran up to the car, his gun drawn, Devon hot on his heels. Constance disappeared, and Sam sat up, starting the engine. "I'm taking you home," he muttered, flooring the gas and throwing gravel, heading straight toward the house.
Devon watched Dean's face as he watched Sam drive his precious car directly through the wall and into the house. "Fuck," he muttered, running after Sam. They both ran into the house. "Sam! You okay?"
"I think," came Sam's voice.
Dean pulled the passenger door open. "Can you move?"
"Yeah, help me."
Dean pulled on Sam and helped get him out of the car. Devon watched as Constance bent down and picked up a framed photo, looking at it in shock. The three of them watched her as she looked up at them and threw the photo down, then as a large dresser came rushing at them. Dean pushed Devon out of the way before it slammed into him and Sam, pinning them against the car.
The electricity started to crackle, and the lights flickered on. Devon was trying to pull the dresser as the boys pushed, but Constance had too tight a hold on it. Suddenly, water started pouring down the stairs. They saw the outlines of two small children start walking down as Constance moved toward the stairs.
"You've come home to us, Mommy," they said in unison. They were suddenly downstairs, and they looked at their mother for a moment before they hugged onto her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and then all three of them disappeared into a puddle in the floor. The hold she had on the dresser was released, and the boys pushed it away from them.
Devon hugged Dean tightly, slightly shaking from what she had just seen. She had not grown up hunting, and she was still getting accustomed to the supernatural.
"So, this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said, looking at the puddle of water they had disappeared into.
Sam nodded. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."
"You found her weak spot," Dean said proudly. "Nice work, Sammy." He slapped him on the shoulder, making Sam groan in pain.
"Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?" he asked with a laugh.
Dean turned and pointed at him. "Hey, saved your ass. I'll tell you another thing. If you fucked up my car, I'll kill you."
Sam laughed, and they both stood at the front of the Impala to push while Devon climbed behind the wheel to steer. Once they were outside, Dean assessed his car and found only minor cosmetic damage, and they headed back toward Palo Alto. Sam had John's journal open to the page with the coordinates, a map spread open in his lap while Devon held the flashlight. "Okay, so here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."
Dean nodded. "Sounds charming. How far?"
"About 600 miles," Sam said.
"If we shag ass, we can make it by morning," Dean said, looking over at him.
Sam looked at him in surprise. "Dean, um…"
Dean looked at him for a minute, knowing what Sam was trying not to say. "You're not going," he said flatly.
"The interview's in ten hours. I gotta be there."
"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home," he said, looking out of the window. Devon knew he was pissed – but mostly hurt – that Sam didn't want to go with them. She turned the flashlight off and leaned up against Dean's shoulder to try to get some sleep. He slung his arm around her, and she drifted off, the hum of the tires and Dean's warmth and smell lulling her to sleep.
Devon awoke when Dean pulled the car up in front of Sam's apartment. Sam grabbed his bag and stepped out onto the sidewalk, slamming the door behind him.
"You'll call me if you find him?" he asked. "Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah, all right." He knew that Sam had no intention of meeting up with them later.
"Bye, Sam. Good luck with your interview," Devon said to him, grimacing when he ruffled her hair like a little kid.
"Thanks. See you, Dev," he called, and he walked away.
"Sam!" Dean yelled, making him stop and turn. "You know, we made a hell of a team back there, the three of us."
Sam nodded. "Yeah."
Dean put the Impala in gear and pulled away silently. Devon wished she could say something to make him feel better, but she knew he felt like shit. His only brother had once again chosen something else over him after he had spent his entire life taking care of Sam. She simply reached over and squeezed his thigh. He didn't look at her but reached down and covered her hand with his.
XXX
Sam walked into the apartment and called out for Jess. It was very early in the morning, but she was always up before dawn, so he was surprised that all of the lights were still off. "Jess! You home?" He grabbed a cookie off of the counter and chewed as he walked through the rooms, looking for her. She wasn't there, so he figured she had left early to go to the gym. He flopped back onto the bed, a smile on his face. Hunting with Dean and Devon that weekend hadn't been so bad. His dad had always been so controlling…so critical…but Dean was a lot different from John in that he was laid back and loved to joke around. Sam had actually had fun.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, just enjoying his life. Suddenly, he felt something wet drop on his forehead. He opened his eyes and gasped, horrified. Jessica…his Jessica…was on the ceiling, blood seeping from her abdomen, hair splayed out.
"No!" he screamed, but before he could do anything, flames erupted around her.
Dean kicked the back door in and ran inside. He had had a bad feeling about leaving, and they had seen the fire through the window. "Sam!" he yelled.
"Jess!" Sam screamed, having to shield his face from the heat of the flames that were quickly consuming her body. The bedroom was already blazing.
Dean ran into the bedroom, shocked at what he saw. He grabbed Sam and pulled him toward the door, but Sam fought against him, trying to get to Jessica. Dean used his body to physically push Sam out of the room and outside. Devon was standing on the sidewalk and had already called 911.
Dean and Devon stood with a group of bystanders while Sam was checked out by the paramedics. They had wanted to take him to the ER for smoke inhalation and mild burns on his face, but he had refused. Dean noticed him at the trunk of the Impala, so he pulled Devon over to the car. Sam was loading a sawed off shotgun. They both looked at him silently, his eyes red from both smoke and tears.
He sighed and tossed the gun into the trunk. "We got work to do."
End Notes: So, I'm curious to see what you guys think. This chapter was a little slow as everything is getting introduced, so they will pick up as we go on. Constructive criticism is welcome, flaming is not! Thanks for reading!