Hello everyone! So this is my first Supernatural fanfic and I hope it's worth reading. Let me know what you think about it! Thanks!
Chapter 1
Jericho, California is the definition of a small town. When people talk about those quaint little spots where everybody knows everybody and block parties are thrown on the daily, they are talking about Jericho. But what people fail to mention are the little old birdies that know everyone's business and how fast the residents are to dismiss newcomers; especially newcomers with a criminal history and tattoos that don't preach the words of the big man in the sky.
Not a single person welcomed me when I was forced to move in with my grandparents two years ago. I wasn't even in town a day before I was pinned a troublemaker, a hooligan, the nuisance that was staying with the nice old Reynolds down the street. They judged me before they knew me simply because they heard about what happened. Sometimes, I wish I could tell someone the details of that night, the night that landed me here. Maybe then they would understand that this world isn't all black and white.
"Sloane!" I groan when my grandfather's raspy screech slices through my thoughts like a knife. "Sloane! Where are you!?"
"I'm back here!" I yell looking at the many boxes scattered around me before scanning the sheet in my hand and checking the appropriate box. Inventory is a bitch.
"What are you doing back here, girl?" I spare my grandfather a brief glance when he appears in the doorway to find him leaning heavily on his cane. He looks rough today with his beer stained shirt and slacks that fit him too snuggly in spots. The little hair he has left is uncombed and unwashed causing it to stick up at odd angles while grey stubble peppers his chin. I grimace when he gives me a condescending smile displaying all seven of his teeth. "I thought I told you to stay on pump today." He doesn't state it as a question, but more as a demand.
"I was going there after I finished inventory. I'm the only one that does it around here and we are running low on supplies." I snap earning me an instant reaction from the man in front of me.
"Who do you think you're talking to girl?" I roll my eyes at his outburst. I'm almost positive he doesn't even know my real name from how many times he refers to me as girl. "Don't you roll your eyes at me! I put food in your mouth and keep you busy! Now get out there and run the pump, you ungrateful little shit." He barks narrowing his milky eyes at me as he hits the floor with his cane. "Right now! Go!"
"Old bastard," I mutter under my breath as I throw the clipboard on a box and maneuver my way out of the room. I brush past my grandfather ignoring his meaningless taunts as I walk through the aisles of our little gas station and out the door.
There's a cool breeze blowing through town that cuts me right to the bone. I tug the ragged old blue baseball cap lower over my forehead as I plop down in my seat next to the door. Despite it being the twenty-first century, I'm still in charge of pumping customer's gas simply because no one knows how to work the ancient pumps. It's a hassle, one I won't miss when I save enough money to blow this one pony town. At the ripe age of twenty-one, I think it's about time I venture out to greater horizons.
With that thought, I pull out my favorite book and start to read. I'm only three chapters in when the roar of an engine pulls me from its pages. I look up in time to see a sleek black car pull up to the pump farthest from me. I take a minute to admire the simplicity of the vehicle and its old-time feel before I push up from my chair.
I take my time walking over to the car giving the guy behind the wheel plenty of time to get out and begin judging the hunk of steel in front of him. He's wearing a dark blue jacket with matching blue jeans that are torn, but look like the most comfortable thing in the world.
"What in the hell is this?" I catch the guy mutter as he positions himself to push a button.
"Need some help?" I ask, clearly surprising the man in front of me as he whips his head in my direction. I smile politely when his green eyes that could very well be hazel find my blue ones. I bite back a laugh when the man's whole demeanor changes right before my eyes.
"Thanks for the offer, but I got this." The man grins giving me a wink, one I'm sure has most women weak in the knees.
"Well, alright." I nod, holding up my hands as I take a step back. "I'll let you get to it." The man doesn't miss the subtle challenge behind my words as he nods and turns his attention back to the pump. I bite my lip when his face pinches up in concentration and I have to look away to keep my cool.
This gives me the perfect opportunity to run my eyes over his car one last time. I see that it's a Chevy Impala and I have to give it a nod in approval. It's as my eyes flick over the hood that I finally notice the other man in the car. This one looks younger, possibly my age, with a baby face that is focused on me.
The boy in the car gives me a warm smile that has my mood brightening considerably. I return his gesture with one of my own right before a frustrated grunt breaks the silent greeting.
"Who even invented this thing!?" This time I laugh when I find that the man has flipped the lever on the side shutting off the pump completely.
"Step back, hoss." I chuckle, shaking my head as I brush past the man noting how delicious he smells. In seconds, I have the lever switched back on and have the nozzle in his gas tank. I wait until the gas begins flowing before I look up and give the guy a shit eating grin. "Any questions?" I tease playfully, watching the dumbfounded expression slip from his face.
"Yeah, one." The man smirks walking over and stopping in front of me. This gives me a close up of his face allowing me to see the stubble peppering his chin and the faint scar above his right eye. He has short brown spiky hair that looks so soft I want to run my hands through it, but I control myself. All in all, the man is a ten and from the charming way he's smiling at me, he knows it. "What's your name?"
I release a breathy chuckle at his question while pulling the nozzle from his car. I wait until the nozzle is returned to the pump and I have the gas cap tightened before I speak.
"That'll be forty-three, seventy-seven." I say, holding out my hand for the cash. I watch the man's smirk widen as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet.
"I'm assuming you don't take visa?" He asks leafing through his bills.
"You assume right." I nod, taking this time to look the guy over. He's tall, good four or five inches taller than I am. I can't tell with his jacket on, but he doesn't look like he's in bad shape.
"Here you go," he draws my attention back to his face as he lays the money in my hand. I make a move to grab it, but he quickly snatches it away from me. "Ah, ah, ah," he tsks causing me to arch an eyebrow. "I still didn't catch your name?"
"Tell you what," I drawl taking a small step forward so I'm inches from him. "If I see you again, I'll give you my name." I tease lifting my face up to meet his, "but if I don't…" I trail off seizing the money from his hand so quickly that even he's left a little stunned. I start back peddling away from him with a smirk planted firmly on my face. "Nice car by the way!" I yell paying the man a compliment as his face lights up in a smile.
"Maybe I'll give you a ride sometime!" He calls making me laugh.
"Let me drive it and I'll think about it!" I laugh when the man chuckles and shakes his head. I cock my head to the side when he gives me one last look before getting in his car and driving away. I watch him go, hoping, that I do see him again.
By the time three o'clock rolls around I'm ready to go home. I've finished my book and managed to sneak into the back to finish inventory, too. No one has stopped since my little admirer this morning and I have a sneaky suspicion no one else will be by today. So with that thought in mind, I grab my stuff and prepare to leave.
"Sloane! Get in here, girl!" I groan and throw my head back when my grandfather chooses that moment to call my name. I look over my shoulder to find him limping his way to the door, his attention focused on his feet so he doesn't trip. I take this as my cue to run for the bathroom on the other side of the building. If he doesn't see me, he'll assume I left.
I quickly duck into the small room cringing when the stench hits my nostrils. I make a mental note to invest in air freshener as I shut the door and lock it. I can hear him hollering my name, but I ignore him as I go to the mirror. I give myself a once over scrutinizing my dark red curls that I have pulled into a loose ponytail. The baseball cap tames the unruly mess that I can never get perfect, not that I ever try. I look into my eyes to find them more grey than blue today and my skin is a little too pale under the fluorescent light. What I wouldn't give for a tan.
I shrug it off as I lower my gaze to my waist. I'm not skinny by any means, my thighs can agree to that, but I'm not huge either. I have curves where god intended for women to have curves and I work hard enough that I've gained quite a bit of muscle. I'm not perfect, but really who is?
"Sloane!" I jump when someone bangs on the bathroom door causing the noise to echo around the room. I hang my head and collect myself before I go and open the door.
"Yes?" I bite in false cheeriness when I find my grandfather standing in front of me.
"Get down to the diner and pick us up something for dinner." He grumbles throwing a wad up twenty at me. I deadpan when it hits me in the face and floats to the floor.
"Can I get a please?" I grit, smashing the twenty with my foot on the way out the door.
"The day you get a please is the day pigs fly!" He cackles from behind me as I walk away toward the center of town. I mutter profanities to my dark blue converses as I barely avoid getting hit by a minivan. I'm one snarky comment away from throwing myself off a cliff, but I have to keep reminding myself that time is money and money is my ticket out of here.
The bell over the door dings when I walk in signaling my arrival to Anne. She's busy grabbing plates from the serving window when I plop down at the counter.
"Hey Anne," I greet the older woman, smiling when she glances at me over her shoulder.
"Hey baby, how you doing today?" I grunt in response to which Anne nods.
"Oh, been one of them days," she sighs, walking to the opposite end of the counter to drop plates off before coming to stand in front of me. Her brown hair is pulled into a tight bun today making the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth more prominent. "Let me guess, old man Reynolds is giving you a hard time again?" She asks with dismay dripping from her every word. I just give her a look as she sighs. "Well, won't be too much longer and you'll be rid of him." I perk up at this as I give her a calculating look.
"Are we going to kill him?" I ask a little too eagerly causing Anne to laugh out loud drawing everyone's attention our way.
"You wouldn't be able to handle prison, sugar." She winks patting my hand affectionately. "I'll grab your food. The usual, right?" She calls walking around to the back. I simply nod adjusting my baseball cap.
"So your name is Sloane." I chuckle in disbelief when the voice I never thought I'd hear again says my name. I almost don't believe it's him until I turn my head to find the guy from earlier leaning lazily in the chair next to me. He's staring at me with satisfaction as a bemused smile turns up his plump lips. "It's a nice name, but not something I would have guessed."
"Hmm and what would you have guessed?" I hum genuinely curious about the man in front of me. I can see from the spark that ignites behind his eyes at my words that he likes a challenge.
"Well…" he trails off, looking me over from head to toe. "I would have said Sarah, Mary-Sue, Jean…Bertha." He smirks causing a bubble of laughter to escape from my lips.
"Really?" I ask in shock. "Bertha?" He shrugs sheepishly making me pucker my lips in thought. "Well in that case, I think it only fair that I guess your name." I grin watching as he nods in approval.
"Give it your best shot, sweetheart." He smirks leaning back in his chair. Every fiber in my being wants to make him eat his words so I take my time thinking of names.
"Now let's see, we have Jack, Jim, Jose." I list holding up fingers for each name I offer up.
"Wait a minute," I swallow my next name when he holds up his hand cutting me off. "Why am I being named after Whiskey?" He asks making me shrug.
"It's my three favorite men so stop complaining." I say holding up my fourth finger ignoring the pleased smile he's giving me. "And last but not least…Gary."
"Seriously?" He groans, his face pinching up in distaste. "Do I look like a Gary?"
"Do I look like a Bertha?" I fire back causing the man to give it some thought.
"Fair enough," he nods holding out his hand. "Dean Winchester." I take his extended hand in mine ignoring how soft his skin feels.
"And you already know who I am," I smirk, shaking his hand before dropping it. "So, what are you doing in town?" I ask curiously looking behind Dean to find the other man who was with him sliding out of the booth with two girls. Dean follows my gaze and is quick to fill in the pieces.
"I'm in town on police business." He coughs, his face holding less than pure intentions. "This is my partner." He says just as the man walks up and offers his hand.
"Sam," he smiles almost hesitantly as he looks down at Dean.
"Sloane," I offer staring between the two in suspicion. Sam is a lot taller than I initially guessed and he has chocolate-brown eyes that are probably peering into my soul right now. Despite his baby face and obvious boyish demeanor, it's not hard to tell that these two are not partners.
"So by partners, you mean brothers?" I ask outright causing both men to choke on their own spit.
"Uh, why would you say that?" Dean laughs, trying to play it off. I raise a skeptical eyebrow at the two men in front of me.
"No reason," I shrug deciding to drop it for now. "I'm assuming by police business you mean Troy's disappearance?" I ask watching as Sam and Dean sit up a little straighter at my words.
"Yeah, did you know him?" Sam asks with so much sympathy that it makes my heart melt.
"Yeah, he was a douchebag." I give it to him straight making Dean laugh. "I would say that he probably just ditched town, but a similar situation happened like this about a month ago."
"You think they are linked together?" Dean asks, leaning forward eager for answers.
"I think it's strange that both times it's been men that have gone missing." I say opening my mouth to tell them more, but I second guess myself and close it.
"Hey, if you know something it's okay to tell us." Sam speaks gently, his voice holding a soothing lilt that instantly calms any doubts I've held. I look up at him, just in time to receive his reassuring smile before I turn to Dean to find his eyes searching mine intensely.
"Here's your dinner, honey." All of our attentions are pulled away from the subject at hand when Anne appears in front of me with a large paper sack.
"Thanks Anne." I nod snatching the bag and pushing a twenty her way. "Keep the change."
"Thanks sugar, tell your granddaddy I said to shove it." She rasps as I wave goodbye to her and turn to the boys.
"Walk me home?" I ask as both nod instantly. Once we are all outside and down the block I dive into what I know. "Okay, so after that guy went missing a month back, word started to spread about the ghost on Centennial."
"Do you actually believe in the ghost?" Sam asks, causing me to stumble over my feet. Dean's arm is the first to circle my waist as he keeps me steady.
"Thanks," I mumble glancing at him out of the corner of my eye to find him watching me curiously. I ignore him and turn to Sam. "I believe in a lot of things." I say not wanting to give too much away, but it gets a reaction out of Sam as his eyes widen in surprise. "Anyways, I did some research. It seems that there have been other cases like this all of them going back to the 1980's. And every time I would search for murder nothing would pop up, however, once I searched for suicide only one thing came up."
"What was it?" Dean asks, just as we come to a stop in front of my shabby one story home.
"A woman named Constance Welch jumped off Sylvania Bridge in 1981 where she drowned in the river. Police reports said that an hour before she jumped, they received a call from her. Apparently both kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die."
"Hm," Dean mutters shaking his head like he can't imagine that.
"Did it say where she used to live?" Sam asks, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets.
"Uhh, somewhere out in the boonies. I can't remember the exact address, but her husband, Joseph Welch. He still works at the Frontier auto salvage yard down past Griffith street. You'll be able to find him there." I offer just as I hear the front door slam open behind me. I close my eyes when the undeniable thump of the cane echoes in my ears.
"Sloane! Get in here with that food, girl! We aren't going to wait all damn day!" Grandpa barks making my jaw clench. I open my eyes only to be met with Sam's compassionate gaze and Dean's annoyed huff.
"Well, I have to go, but I hope that helps." I nod suddenly embarrassed by my grandfather's behavior as I twist on my heel and walk down the driveway. I'm almost to the house when Dean's voice pulls me up short.
"Sloane!" I stop and turn around to find both men watching me. "Thank you for your help." Dean shouts, his words genuine and from the look of mild regret on his face I don't think I'll be seeing him again. I smile sadly and nod.
"Good luck boys."
I lay awake later that night staring at my ceiling. The nightlight by my bed sends little yellow stars dancing across my wall. Despite being in my twenties, I'll admit that I'm no longer a fan of the dark.
I chew the inside of my cheek as I think about the day's events. Sam and Dean are not who they say they are. I know this from the way the two acted about Troy's disappearance. They weren't asking the right questions and they definitely didn't dress like police officials. There is just something about them that I can't put my finger on and I want to know what.
Plus if I let Dean get away without at least a goodbye kiss, god knows, I'll regret that shit for the rest of my life.
As quickly as I can I change into my favorite pair of jeans and a blue hooded sweatshirt. I grab my chucks on the way to the window where I easily slip out and fall butt first in the grass. I never said I was graceful, but at least I get the job done. Now there is only one motel in town which has to be where they are staying, but if I had to bet my entire life's saving I would say they aren't even there.
Instead of continuing down the road toward town, I slip into the trees and begin running through the forest. I try to keep my mind off the fact that there is no nightlight out in these woods as I run faster. Unfortunately, this is the quickest way to Sylvania Bridge where I know Sam and Dean will be. So I block out all the noises and focus on not tripping over a fallen log.
"Sam!" I stop when I hear Dean's scream. I'm just at the edge of the woods with a perfect view of the bridge. I can clearly see Dean staring at something in my direction and when I follow his line of vision I almost choke. It's the woman from the pictures; the one that committed suicide.
"Constance," I gasp in horror watching as the woman in question turns her head to glare at me before jumping off the bridge. "Holy Hell!" I cry taking a step back only to fall on my ass. "Aah," I groan holding my dairy air just as Dean's car engine roars to life. I quickly scramble to my feet, just in time, to witness the Impala run down Sam and Dean. "No!" I scream taking off for the bridge.
I can't take my eyes off the scene unfolding in front of me as I tear down the bridge toward the car.
"Dean!" I shout, my chest tightening in fear when both him and Sam jump over the edge of the bridge seconds before the car runs them over. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," I mutter, my heart quickening as I run to the edge where Sam and Dean jumped. I'm searching the water so intensely that I scream when a hand pops up to grab the railing. However, I collect myself quickly when Sam's tired face appears seconds later. "Sam!" I sigh in relief grabbing his hand and helping him back on to dry land.
As soon as he's up, he's searching the bridge for Dean.
"He's not up here," I say going over to the railing and examining the water below. Sam isn't too far behind as he comes up beside me.
"Dean!" Sam bellows, just as a filthy and mud covered Dean crawls out of the water and on to the shore.
"What!?" Dean yells holding his side in pain.
"Oh thank god," I sigh, resting my head on the railing listening the reassuring sounds of Dean panting below.
"Are you alright!?" Sam asks which earns him a grunt in response.
"I'm super," Dean answers rather annoyed causing Sam to chuckle softly. I follow suit as I lift my head and try not to throw up.
"Oh goodness," I mumble lacing my fingers together behind my head as I begin to walk in circle.
"Hey, are you alright?" Sam asks, worry thick in his voice. I nod, shrugging him off when he puts a hand on my shoulder.
"I'm fine. Forget about me." I say turning to face the puppy dog eyes I'm growing quite fond of, "are you okay?" I ask laying a comforting hand on Sam's arm. He seems a little taken aback by my gesture, but recovers quickly.
"Yeah, I'm okay." He smiles sweetly, his eyes softening considerably. I feel my own lips turn up into a smile as our gazes lock together, but the moment is soon broken when Dean walks up. He doesn't say a word as he goes straight for his car and pops the hood. Sam and I watch him as he tinkers under the hood for a long time before he slams the top.
"Your car all right?" I ask looking over Dean's muddy attire.
"Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now." He grumbles turning around to rest against the hood. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!" He shouts into the night as I cover my mouth to refrain from laughing. This seems to finally alert Dean's attention to me as his eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. "Sloane, what are you doing here?" He asks, making me cross my arms defensively.
"I was actually looking for you two," I explain looking between the brothers. "After all the questions today, I just assumed you'd be here."
"That's one helluva assumption," Sam observes giving me the side eye. I just hum in response as I rub the back of neck nervously.
"Yeah, well…I should get home." I rush trying to make a quick exit, but fail miserably when Dean's hand shoots out to wrap around my wrist.
"Now, wait just a minute." Dean stops me as he stands up to tower over me. I can't look into his eyes so I focus on his lips which just make things so much worse. "How much did you see?" He asks, causing a churning to begin in my gut.
"I saw Constance," I say getting the courage to lift my eyes to his, "and she saw me." I gulp feeling the blood drain from my face. I hold my breath when Dean lets go of my wrist and scrubs a hand down his face.
"Listen, this is going to be hard to hear, but-"
"Ghosts and everything else that goes bump in the night exist?" I fill in the blanks for him as his face goes from one of sorrow to shock. "I know, well sort of, I know a little. I've been trying to block it out for the past two years."
"So you know about the supernatural?" Sam asks, coming to stand beside Dean making the whole situation even more intimidating.
"I know the basics. Why else do you think I did all that research?" I ask not expecting an answer, but amused when Dean gives me one.
"For shits and giggles," he muses surprising me so much with his answer that I laugh despite myself.
"No, but it was fun." I giggle softly running an anxious hand through my hair. "Point is…I get it. You guys are the unappreciated superhero's of the world and I will help any way I can." I nod getting a boast of courage when Dean smirks and nudges Sam at the superhero part.
"Listen, Sloane, it's not that we don't appreciate the help you've already given us, but this is a dangerous game. It's not something to just throw yourself into." Sam rejects my help as kindly as he can and I give him props for his soothing words. The guy could call me butt ugly and I'd still want to give him a big ole hug.
"He's right." Dean throws in crossing his arms. "This isn't the life you want."
"Yeah, well, sometimes you don't get a choice." I ramble not thinking about my words until they are already floating through the air.
"What do you mean?" Dean questions suspiciously making me shake my head in anger.
"Nothing, can I get a ride home or should I walk?" I ask avoiding their gazes like the plague. After several long minutes of silence I hear one of them heave a sigh.
"Of course, come on." Sam finally agrees ushering me to the car where I climb into the back. The ride home is silent as I stare out the window and push aside the memories catapulting through my mind. I can tell from the way that Sam and Dean keep stealing glances at one another that they want to say something, but I'm grateful when they remain quiet.
Relief washes over me when we pull up to my house. I practically fly out of the backseat when Sam opens the door. However, before I get far I hear Dean's voice. I briefly wonder how many times Dean is going to stop me from running away as I turn around to meet the man. I wait patiently as he makes his way over to me.
"Sloane, I just wanted to say sorry." He grits almost like the words leave a nasty taste in his mouth. "How we handled things was-"
"Dean, you don't have to be sorry for anything." I shake my head interrupting his thought process. "You and Sam handled things perfectly. It's me that's being the ass." I sigh, reaching out to pull Dean into a hug before I change my mind. "I'm sorry." I mumble into his chest waiting until he hesitantly wraps his arms around my back before I step away.
"So are we good?" He asks awkwardly clearing his throat. I feel my insides start to curl with embarrassment when I realize how awkward that must have been for him.
"Yeah, we're good." I nod, my nose crinkling when his stench finally hits me. "But seriously, I think your next step should be a shower." I laugh when a crimson blush rises in his cheeks.
"Yeah, well…" he chuckles before turning abruptly on his heel and walking back to the car. I hold in my laughter as I watch him go. However, before he gets in the car he sends me one last fleeting glance. I raise my hand and wave. He returns it.
The next morning is a bit of a blur as I pull myself out of bed. My nostrils flare at the rancid odor that sticks to my clothes and I realize sadly that it's from my hug with Dean. I can't deny the warm sensation spreading through my veins at the thought of hugging Dean again or possibly more, but I don't get too ahead of myself. I barely know the guy.
After my shower, I change and head down to the gas station. I'm not surprised when I don't find my grandfather there considering I left him on the couch suffering from a major hangover. I always love the day after he goes on a drinking binge because he never shows up to work. I sit outside for most of the day flipping through my newest book, but even John Green can't pull me from the dark thoughts twisting through my mind.
"Sloane?" I look up from where I'm staring a hole through the concrete to find my least favorite town gossip hovering over me.
"Miss Lucy, how are you?" I ask draining any ounce of enthusiasm I have from my words. This doesn't affect the old bag one bit as she takes a deep breath.
"Well, you know those marshals that came in for that poor boy's disappearance? Oh I hope he's okay. I'm sure he's just wandering around lost and cold somewhere looking for someone to-"
"Miss Lucy," I snap my fingers stopping her from rambling further. "What about the marshals?" I ask leaning forward for information. I can only assume by "marshals" she means Sam and Dean.
"Oh, well, turns out they were frauds!" She gasps, shaking her head in disbelief. "They're interrogating one as we speak. They haven't found the other one yet, but they will. I can only imagine what was going through their minds trying to imitate marshals." She huffs planting her hands on her bony hips. She impatiently launches into another story, but I zone her out as I digest the news.
Who is sitting in the Sheriff's office right now and who is elsewhere?
"Did you get a look at the guy that the police hauled in?" I ask, interrupting her once more. This time she lets out an annoyed scoff as she rolls her eyes.
"He was a little fella with short spiky hair and a troublesome smile." Dean.
"Alright, well, it was nice talking to you Lucy." I say shooting up from my chair and grabbing my jacket. "Have a good day." I nod rushing past her and hurrying down the sidewalk.
"Sloane! Don't you need to lock up!?" Miss Lucy hollers behind me as I stop and fumble for the keys. I don't think twice about tossing them to her as she doesn't even come close to catching them.
"The back lock is tricky, just shake it!" I yell turning on my heel and jogging down the street. I wait until I'm passed town square before I pull out my phone and dial 911.
"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
"Yes, I was jogging down Whiteford Road when I heard gunshots being fired from the woods! You have to send someone down here right away!" I cry doing my best to imitate the frightened little girl.
"Calm down ma'am. Can you tell us how many gunshots you heard?" I roll my eyes at all the questions as I come up with a quick answer.
"I don't know! There were too many to count! It sounded like a shooting range back there!" I shriek hurting my throat in the process.
"Okay ma'am. We are sending deputies out there right away. Can I get your na-"
I snap my phone shut as the police station comes into view. I'm trying to look as casual as possible when the doors slam open and seven or eight deputy's storm out carrying their guns. I hang back until they are in their cars and speeding down the street before I move around to the back of the building. There's only one window back here and I pray to the heavens that Dean's behind it.
I wait a beat before I pop my head up and look through the glass. I do a mental victory dance when I find Dean in the middle of breaking out of his hand cuffs. I don't bother knocking on the glass figuring he'll be sneaking out soon enough. So I rest against the brick wall and stare down at my chucks until I hear the window slide open.
I thought it'd be amusing to watch Dean try to sneak out a window, but the man does it with such suave and finesse that I'm left amazed. Obviously he's done it too many times to count.
"Well, it took you a little longer than I expected." I tease, grinning in satisfaction when Dean jumps in the air before turning to me.
"How did you know I was here?" He asks, slightly out of breath, probably from the mini heart attack I gave him.
"It's a small town," I shrug motioning for him to follow me as I lead us down the back alleys. "It only takes one little gunshot for people to start freaking out."
"Wait, did you call that in?" Dean asks sounding a mix of surprised and impressed.
"Wouldn't be my first prank call," I throw a smirk over my shoulder only to find Dean staring at my ass. "Hey, eyes up here buddy!" I reprimand causing an immediate reaction out of Dean as his eyes flash to mine.
"Sorry," he mumbles distractedly as he starts to pat down his pockets. "Shit!" He hisses, stopping long enough to throw me a pleading look. "The police confiscated my phone. I need to call Sam." Without batting an eyelash, I toss him my phone and walk a little ways down the alley to give him some privacy.
I watch the sun set in the horizon as a feeling of dread settles in my gut. I know it's because of the events I'm positive will unravel tonight. Not to mention the fact that after these past few days I can't go back to the way things were before. I can't keep being oblivious to the things around me especially when I know it's only a matter of time before something finds me.
"Sloane! We need to go now!" I don't have time to form a thought at the panic in Dean's voice as he grabs my hand and drags me down the street. "We need a car!" He barks, stopping once we've reached a random parking lot. I watch as Dean starts to go around yanking on car handles checking to see if there unlock. He's on his fifth car when I grab his hand and pull him to a white Honda civic. I drop him at the driver's side as I go around to the passenger door and slide in. "How did you know this one would be unlocked?" He asks once he's behind the wheel and finds that the keys are in the ignition as well.
"I know who locks their doors and who doesn't." I supply, grappling for the dashboard when Dean peels out of the parking lot.
"You are just full of surprises, aren't you?" Dean muses glancing at me curiously out of the corner of his eye.
"You have no idea," I mutter looking at the trees blurring past us. "What's the deal? Where's Sam?" I ask looking back at Dean.
"I think he's at the Welches old family home. He's in trouble and I have to help him." He declares, his hands tightening around the wheel. He looks so determined in this moment to get to Sam that I have no doubt he'd go through heaven and hell for his little brother.
"Take a right here! It's a shortcut that will get us there faster." I command causing Dean to make a sharp right turn that hurtles me against my car door. I smack my forehead against the glass causing a deep ache to spread through my skull.
"Oh hell, are you okay?" Dean asks once he's on a straight path.
"I'm fine," I wave him off cradling my forehead like fine China. For the love of Pete, we aren't even there yet and already I'm injured.
"No you're not, let me look at it." He demands holding out his hand for what I'm not sure, but I push it away.
"Dean, I'm okay. Just concentrate on the road and finding Sam." I answer sternly hiding the throbbing headache I have. I catch Dean Open his mouth to argue with me, but I quickly shut him down when I spot the house. "There it is!" I gasp as we come to a screeching halt next to the Impala.
Dean is fast as he jumps out of the car leaving me to stumble behind him. I can hear Sam shouting in pain when I run up behind Dean as he fires the first round. I gap in shock as Constance's ghosts flicker's over Sam's body that she had been previously straddling before disappearing.
I don't really know what to say as I watch Sam sit up and start the car engine.
"I'm taking you home." I hear Sam grunt in pain as he puts the car in drive and floors it. My eyes turn into saucers when the car smashes through the front door and comes to a stop in what I assume to be the living room.
"Sam!" Dean yells, running to his brother's aid as I hang back and keep my eyes on Constance. I watch in awe as Constance picks up a shattered picture frame from the ground and admires it. A thousand emotions flicker across her face in a matter of seconds, but only one emotion stays as she throws the picture down and glares at Sam and Dean.
I don't know what is happening until a bureau skids across the room and smashes into Sam and Dean pinning them to the car.
"Oh shit!" I hiss breaking out of my stupor as I run into the room and try to peel the hunk of wood off the boys.
"Sloane! Get out of here!" Dean grunts doing his best to push the bureau away.
"Not a chance," I growl pulling with all my strength until I hear the undeniable sound of leaking water. I look behind me to find a stream of it spilling down the stairs and pooling around where Constance stands. She looks absolutely distraught as she looks to the head of the stairs.
"You've come home to us, Mommy." I hear little kids seconds before a boy and girl appear behind Constance. She barely has time to turn around before the pair embraces her causing the ghost to scream at the top of her lungs. I wince when the room lights up in a power surge as Constance and her children slowly sink into a puddle on the floor.
I don't say a word, not even when the power goes out and Constance's screams become just another painful memory. I take a step back when Sam and Dean push the bureau off them to go inspect the spot where Constance disappeared. I take this as my opportunity to go outside for air as I take gulping breaths to avoid fainting.
I just saw my first ghost execution. It wasn't as horrible as I thought, but it's definitely not something I'd like to do often. However, as I look up into the night sky, a sense of utter and complete calm washes over me at the thought of helping save the world. It's definitely not the most glamorous job, but I don't need glamorous. I just need to know that I'm doing something that matters. Also, add the fact that, it gets me out of this dead beat town. I call it a win-win.
"Sloane, hey, are you alright?" I hear Sam before I actually see him. I, unwillingly, tear my eyes from the sky to gaze at the man standing next to me. He's watching me in worry and I wonder if that's his only emotion.
"I'm okay, honestly." I grant him a small smile to reassure him before I turn around to confront Dean who is stalking out of the house.
"If you hurt my baby, I'm going to kill you." He threatens; examining his car like it's the last water bottle in the desert.
"I'm sure she's fine, Dean." Sam chuckles giving me a look as he brushes past me to help Dean. I choose in that moment to keep my mouth shut as I watch the two bicker and joke around like they didn't just kill a ghost minutes earlier.
It's only when we are parked in front of my house that I say what's on my mind.
"I want to go with you." I blurt before Dean or Sam has a chance to tell me goodbye. "I know you're going to say no, that it's too dangerous. I can have a better life than this, yadda yadda yadda, but I've already made up my mind. If you don't let me go with you, I'll just go alone and figure it all out myself." I finish watching Dean's flabbergasted expression to into anger.
"Sloane, we are not taking you with us." Dean growls lowly as I nod.
"Fine. Sam let me out of the car." I answer curtly making a move to leave, but Sam stays where he's at.
"Dean, maybe, we should think about this." Sam offer's softly sending me a brief glance.
"What is there to think about!?" Dean yells, looking at Sam like he's grown a second head. "She'll be a liability. She'll just end up hurt or worse…dead." Dean rumbles giving Sam the death stare. I look between the two wondering who has the most willpower when Sam looks away first.
"Sloane, can you give us a minute?" Sam asks politely, stepping out of the car allowing me to leave. I nod, not bothering to say thank you as I head straight for my room. My grandfather is passed out on the couch with empty Whiskey bottles surrounding him, he won't miss me. As quickly as I can, I start throwing clothes into a duffle bag. I don't have much, but it's enough to get me by for a while.
Even if Sam and Dean don't let me go with them, I'm not going to stay in this hell hole another night. I'll walk to the bus station and go from there.
I zip up my duffle, the crisp sound ringing with finality, like I'm ending a chapter in my life. I take one last survey of my room committing it to memory before I throw the duffle over my shoulder and crawl out my window. I'm a little surprised when I find Sam and Dean waiting for me outside as they lean against the Impala.
Dean eyes me and my duffle warily as I come to a stop in front of them. Sam just looks happy to see me.
"What have we decided?" I ask Dean because I already know Sam's opinion. I watch his jaw tick as he chews over his answer.
"If you come with me, you do exactly as I say. If I tell you to stay back you stay back. If I tell you to run and hide you run and hide. There is no in between. Got it?" Dean asks sternly, his eyes cold as they focus on me. I simply nod refusing to give him anything else. "Good." He sighs, rubbing an exhausted hand down his face. "I will show you everything I know and when I think you are ready, I'll cut you loose. This situation isn't permanent. It's temporary. Understood?" He asks again as I give him another nod. This seems to be enough for him as he roughly snatches the duffle from my hands and throws it in the back.
I'm on the verge of telling him to forget it when Sam's voice whispers in my ear.
"Don't worry about Dean. He's just worried for your safety."
"And you're not?" I ask thoughtfully turning my head to give him a look. I watch as he frowns and shakes his head.
"Of course I'm worried for you, but I'd rather you be with Dean then out on your own." He admits, his frown deepening at the thoughts running through his mind.
"You aren't coming with us, are you?" I ask, not oblivious to the fact that Dean only used "I" in his speech not "we".
"No I'm not. This was a onetime thing for me. I have an offer at Stanford that I can't refuse." He nods causing disappointment to settle in my gut.
"I can't argue with that," I smile, crawling into the back before he can see the frown turning down my lips.
The car ride to Stanford is silent as I doze in and out of sleep. I vaguely hear the boys talking up front, but I don't listen choosing not to pry. That would make me no better than the old ladies back in Jericho. However, once we are stopped in front of Sam's apartment I can't help jumping out and wrapping him in a hug.
"Thank you for everything," I say pulling away to see the large smile that has lit up Sam's face.
"Give Dean hell, okay?" Sam teases receiving a wide smirk from me.
"Will do," I laugh sliding back into the Impala to give the brother's a moment alone. It's while I'm staring down at my hands that the same feeling of dread from earlier overcomes me. It sends shivers down my spine and I'm afraid I'm going to lose my dinner, but luckily Dean chooses that moment to slide behind the wheel.
I look out the window as the engine roars to life to find Sam standing alone on the sidewalk.
"We're not leaving him, are we?" I ask holding up my hand and waving goodbye to Sam before we turn the corner and I lose sight of him.
"Yes we are," Dean grumbles with a shake of his head. "He wants to stay here so-"
"No turn around," I bark, leaning forward when my stomach clenches painfully. "We need to go back, something's wrong." I hiss through my teeth looking at Dean with wide eyes. "Go back now."
Without a second to waste Dean twists the wheel and makes an illegal U-turn. His tires squeal against the asphalt as the pain in my stomach increases. I grunt bending at the waist to place my head between my knees.
"Dean, hurry." I mutter.
"I'm trying!" He growls slamming his foot on the accelerator propelling us forward. I lift my head when the undeniable stench of smoke hits me.
"Oh my god," I whisper watching the bright orange flames lick up the side of Sam's apartment building. Dean doesn't even turn off the car before he's out and running inside. I open my door to follow, but a sharp stab in my side has my knees buckling. "Aah," I groan when my knees crack painfully against the concrete making for a horrible time.
"Sloane!" I hold up a hand when Dean's panicked yell cuts through the sirens coming down the street. "Sloane, hey, look at me." Dean doesn't give me much of a choice as he grabs my face between his hands and lifts my chin. He's kneeling in front of me with alarm as he checks me over.
"Where's Sam?" I croak the pain in my stomach subsiding.
"Are you okay?" Dean asks again just as my head lulls to the side from exhaustion. "Whoa, hey, hey…"
"I'm fine," I mumble looking over Dean's shoulder to find Sam watching the fire with tears streaming down his cheeks. A look of utter despair has befallen his features and I instantly sober up. "Help me up, please." I whisper grabbing Dean's hands as he helps me to my feet.
I lean on him as he guides me to Sam.
"Sam?" I ask innocently looking over his shrunken form. He doesn't answer me as a new wave of fresh tears cascade down his face. I bite my lip and look to Dean who just hangs his head in sorrow.
I decide nothing needs to be said right now as I slip my hand into Sam's. I rest my head on his shoulder so he knows I'm right here and for a moment I don't think he's even aware of my presence. Yet as the thought enters my mind, Sam gives my hand a gentle squeeze letting me know he gets it.
I use my other hand to link my fingers through Dean's. I don't have to look at Dean to know he's surprised by my action. However, he doesn't hesitate to step closer to me when I give him a gentle tug.
No one says anything as we stand in the middle of the street and watch the fire. A crowd has already gathered around us and I wish I could tell them to go away, but I know I can't. Being a part of this life means not drawing attention to yourself and your pain. I'm going to learn, but I know it won't be easy. This life never is.
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