Wow, people actually liked this. I'm surprised. Truly, genuinely, surprised.

Also, guys, I'm mildly dyslexic. If I make a mistake here and there, cut me some slack.

Disclaimer: don't own anything you recognize.

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Dean waits until they're a good hour into the drive to break the news, and Sam thinks this is incredibly unfair.

"What the fuck, man?" he says, staring at his brother and trying to keep his temper in check. "You made it sound like you were alone on this one!"

"Would you have come if I told you?" Dean answers. "I mean, c'mon, Sam, you gotta understand. This is a family thing."

His fingers twitch. "Then why's some random chick coming?" he asks, about ready to tell him to turn around and take him back to Stanford. If he wasn't so conflicted over the matter of holy fuck, I get my brother back and I said I was out of this for good, what the hell he probably would've already.

Awkward-seeming now, Dean fidgets in his seat, speeding even more than usual. "I'm twenty-six," he says. "I go on a lot of hunts alone. Noel's, uh, sort of my unofficial hunting partner. The girl's good." Before Sam can cut in, he adds, "But, that doesn't mean she's family and this is Dad we're talking about. Something's wrong. I can feel it."

"You're unbelievable." His arms are crossed like when he was a kid, and this petulant display of irritation isn't something he does in school. Barely an hour and he's already regressing to his old life. "That's - you should've at least told me!"

"Would you have come if I did?" No, no he wouldn't, so Dean has a point, but that doesn't mean he should've lied. "Besides, I need you on this one. She's helping out, sure, but Dad kind of scares her. Moment there's a chance of the two of them being anywhere near each other, she's heads out and waits for my next call."

This whole new set of information is so mindbogglingly un-Dean-like that Sam isn't sure what to make of it. "You're hunting with someone who's afraid of Dad," he says, and for his brother that's practically breaking orders. "How'd you even end up with that?"

His brother answers, "Look, it's a long story. I met her about a year and a half ago. She needed stitches, so I patched her up and she gave me her number." Even someone who doesn't know Dean as well as Sam does would be able to tell there's more than that. "About two weeks later I hit a tough spot on a gig in Cape Cod and gave her a call."

"You asked for help? Fuck, Dean, do you have a thing for her or something?"

Dean rolls his eyes and maybe the answer to that was obvious. His brother isn't the type to hide that. "We're just friends," he says. "Seriously. And yeah, I called for help. Thought it was just a ghost, turned out to be a water spirit. A pissed off one too. That's her department. Took care of it in under twelve hours."

"Her department?" he repeats. "What, is she a specialist in all things water related or something?"

"Or something."

"Tell me."

"Ask her yourself."

Though pissed and wanting to press for me, Sam concedes and let's his brother forcibly change the conversation. If this girl doesn't give answers, he's going to kill him. Hell, he could be with Jess right now and panicking about that law school interview that Dean better get him to. Anything but driving to Jericho looking for his Dad who directly said he could never come back, and meet up with some chick about to be demoted to the backseat. This is just great.

He spends the next few hours mentally preparing himself for the worst weekend of his life.

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Noel doesn't consider herself to be all that attractive, but she's the only thing around with two legs and no penis so it's a relief when the Impala finally shows up and Dean gets out.

When he approaches her, he says, "So you can take down a rugaru without blinking, but a bunch of overweight rednecks looking at you funny is what scares you?"

Now that he's here, the other men have stopped watching her. "Did the plaid shirt label me as a target or something?" she answers, looking away and back up at him. At five two, "looking up" is pretty much inevitable. And apparently Sam is even taller. The same Sam he talks about all the time and she's finally going to meet. "I mean, come on, I never get stared at this much. It's creepy."

He just rolls his eyes, that bastard. "Head to the car," he says. "My brother's there. I have to get a few things. Want anything?"

"Got everything I need," she says, holding up her coffee as an indication. Getting addicted to caffeine probably isn't the greatest decision she's never made. Then again, she's a lightweight and it's easier than drinking beer with Dean when he gets in one of his moods. "Oh, uh, did you tell him...anything?"

"Nope. Told him he has to ask you."

Oh, peachy. As if Dean doesn't know her qualms about that. She's still a little miffed that he pretty much drugged her to get it out of her, but it could've been worse. He could've killed her after all. "I'll see you in five," she tells him, and heads over to the car. She sees Sam before he sees her, looking down at something and sitting in the passenger seat. It takes a lot to get her nervous, but this is definitely doing it. Dean's basically her best friend and she was so antsy about finally meeting the brother he said was never coming back that she actually bothered to do more than throw on whatever clothes were closest today. Not too much though; still perfectly practical with good mobility and very little access fabric to catch anything.

She knocks on the passenger side window and he jumps, looking up at her. Even nervous, she can pull off a convincing smile and he relaxes a little as he opens the door and climbs out. Okay, so Dean wasn't lying about the whole height thing. Suddenly she feels very, very small. "You must be Sam," she says, still smiling, and sticks out her hand. "Noel Charming. Pleased to finally meet you."

Odds are Dean didn't say her full name either because that flicker of amusement passes over his brother's face. It isn't her fault her mom was weird. "Nice to meet you, too," he answers. His hand practically swallows hers. "So you've been working with Dean?"

"For a whole year and a half," she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. It's short, and she can only get about half back. She knows he goes to college and wonders if she looks weird to him, a girl who neglects make-up and piercings and lets her hair air dry. "We met two summers ago. And, uh, since Dean's leaving me to explain it, we started working together because he got a job on the coast and I'm good with water, I guess you can say."

Before he can answer her, Dean returns. "That's an understatement," he says. "Sammy, meet your first ever demigod. Daughter of Poseidon. And here's breakfast since you refused it at the gas station."

Sam looks from his brother back to her, obviously trying not to openly stare and failing miserably. She twists, shooting Dean a glare. "So much for me telling him," she says.

He shrugs. "You'd take all day, Ellie -"

"Oh, shut up and stop being a dick."

"Ready to hit the road?"

Though still annoyed, she slips into the backseat, feeling strange but knowing shotgun belongs to the little brother. Hell, she went into this partnership perfectly aware that she comes at most third on the totem pole of importance - first was Sam, followed by his dad. His dad being the same John Winchester who would probably kill her if he knew the truth. It still surprises her that Dean just sort of accepted it, especially after she found out about how he was raised and that ideology. Thank god for Bobby Singer.

The feeling in the Impala is uncomfortable enough, but Sam makes it worse when he turns in his seat and says, "Dean's joking, right?"

"Nope," she says, having to stop herself from biting her nails. She keeps telling herself she's going to stop but it never seems to happen. "He and my mom got married, then had me three years later. You go to Stanford, right?"

Normally she's better at dodging the subject, but looks Dean keeps giving her through the rear view mirror aren't helping. "Yeah," he answers. "I'm a senior. Pre-law major."

They talk about college, and he tells her about his girlfriend and his classes and warms up to her a bit when she says she wanted to be a history teacher as kid and go to BC like her mom. Dean is notably relieved even though he knows she has pretty well developed people skills. Sam's easy to talk to, she finds, and so like his brother that it's actually kind of scary. She feels more confident in this whole situation as the ride goes on.

At two o' clock in the afternoon, they pass the sign for Jericho.

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Once the law enforcement card is pulled, Noel tends to stand back about half the time and try to weasel out information by pretending to be a journalist or curious onlooker. It's harder for a woman to fake being FBI or Federal Marshall or anything similar because people tend to have this pre-conceived notion that females (especially short, young looking ones) can't be investigators. She still does it, of course, but right now she's satisfied letting the boys go off on their own while she questions the cop at the end of the bridge. Besides, this gives the two brothers time to get their training wheels back on.

"I told the last journalist," says the officer, looking in the direction of the abandoned, bloody car, obviously annoyed at being left on guard duty. "This is classified information. It could compromise the investigation."

She smiles, wide and innocent-looking. "I'm not a journalist, officer," she says again. "I'm a college student at Berkeley. My Crim-Civ paper's on ongoing investigations. I don't need the information or anything, but the process. C'mon, you can at least tell me that, right?"

At the age of twenty, it's the easiest thing for her to fake and she has false IDs for fifteen different universities. Cops aren't likely to check that the way they do outside law enforcement, which means she's less likely to get caught in anything than Dean - and now Sam, too. The officer crosses his arms. "Why didn't you pick somewhere closer to home?" he asks.

"Because everyone's already taken all the interesting ones," she answers, "and I figured leaving the general area would make it look like I tried more. I seriously want that A, you know?"

"What did you say your name was again?"

"I didn't. Ellie Fitz, though. Nice to meet you, Officer...?"

The officer visibly relaxes. She doesn't know why, but names seem to do that to people. "Will O'Reilly. Just the process, right, Ellie?" he says, glancing in the direction of his boss. He seems like the youngest in the area, probably not much older than her. Unmarried, too. "Well, I guess I can do that."

The two boys head in the direction of the car and when Sam tries to move in towards her, Dean pulls him back. Though it isn't all that hard to get information when playing the college student role, it generally takes a little longer. "Thank you so much," she says with a relieved smile. "So where do you start?"

"Well, we generally try to find out who the vic is first," he says, "and if it's a local, that's usually pretty easy."

"So this is an everybody-knows-everybody type of town?"

O'Reilly nods. "I didn't know this kid all that well, but I at least know who he was. After that we call next of kin and the girlfriend or boyfriend if there is one. Question them, you know? Then a newspaper usually figures out a thing or two and it ends up in some article."

"Yeah," she says, "that where I'm getting most of my information to be honest. Anything in it wrong?"

He glances again at the bridge. "There's usually a detail or two messed up," he answers. "Like they spelled this kid's name wrong. It's actually -" He stops for a second, then continues, "Sorry, getting into classified again though, um, I'm sure you can get that from the town database. Not that you heard it from me or anything."

God, this is even easier than usual. Not that she's complaining. "It's fine, I get it," she says. "Uh, hey, this might seem weird but are there any stupid rumors going around about this?"

He gives her an odd look. "Like what?"

"Like a ghost did it or something. There've been enough disappearances in this town that something must've cropped up."

Looking even more confused now, the officer asks, "Why would you possibly want to know that?"

She shrugs, completely unabashed by her own curiosity. After all, she's just some nosy college kid. "Fluff for the paper," she answers. "It's supposed to be twenty pages minimum. You've got to know what that's like."

He laughs. "Yeah, I do," he says and leans against the support of the bridge, looking at her up and down. She wants to get out of here quickly, go find Dean. And Sam, she guesses, though she still isn't sure what the guy makes of her yet. "Uh, promise to put me down as an anonymous source?"

"'Course." Is that even allowed in college papers? It wasn't when she was in high school. "Why, there is one?"

O'Reilly smiles, all pleased with himself. "Well, you see," he says, "there was this woman a while back named Constance."

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"It's a suicide, not a murder," says Noel, coming up behind them as Sam tries to high jack the computer. Dean turns around and she's holding out the notebook to him. "The sweet officer told me everything for my paper. Said I needed filler."

Sammy turns around and Dean takes the notebook, flipping it open. Noel's notes are all neat and organized like a real student's would be. His brother looks over his shoulder, reading. There isn't much but it's enough and that's what matters. "The legend seems kind of scrambled," he says.

"O'Reilly says people keep on making up new stuff after every disappearance, though he hasn't heard anything for this one yet."

"That's what the victim's girlfriend's friend said," Sam tells her, exiting the screen. "You seriously got all this from a cop?"

Ever since they met, Dean's been convinced Noel blushing is the funniest thing ever. It's just so damn easy. "Told you she was good," he says instead of her. "Looks like we better go back to that bridge."

An hour after they find the actual article to get the last few pieces of information, the three of them end up back on that bridge. It's dark, but the moon is full enough that they can still see. Noel's at the edge of the bridge in an instant, elbows on the wooden rail and leaning over the edge. Dean and Sam join her a moment later and he looks down at the churning water. Depending on where Constance jumped, it would've been the water that killed her rather than the fall. Sure, the bridge is high up, but he's jumped off cliffs for the fun of it at this height and came out fine and that was before he met the Little Mermaid here.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, too desensitized to death by this point to care how normal people reacted. The water seems louder now than it did during the day.

Sam looks at him, gaze going straight over Noel's head. "So you think Dad's been here?" he asks.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." He pushes away from the edge, the sound of the river starting to irritate him. Dad's missing and he wouldn't let some ghost get a drop on him and Dean's trying desperately to ignore the way every instinct is screaming that they won't find him here. That he's long gone, whether by choice or not.

After a moment, his brother follows him and says, "Okay, so now what?"

"We keep digging until we find him. It might take a while."

"Dean, I told you, I got to be back by -"

"Monday," he says at the same time. Now that he's turned around, he can see that Noel's hanging back, eyeing them warily. There's about a fifty-fifty chance that this is about to explode and even though she's here, he doesn't want her involved. "Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer, marry your girl?"

"Maybe," Sam answers, which isn't what he wants to hear even though it's what he already knew. He knows his brother better than anyone else in the world. Surprise doesn't come easily. "Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you?" he says. "Know about the things you've done?"

"No, and she's not ever going to know."

He thinks about the girl he met in his baby brother's apartment, all long legs and curly blonde hair like some sort of model. So sweet and oblivious like those chicks he picks up in bars and so opposite their life that there's no way she'll ever know what fear really is. Even though he's entirely focused on Sam at the moment, he does catch the way Noel glances in the direction of the car. "Well, that's healthy," he says, irritation starting to take over and it's barely been twenty-four hours. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

"And who's that?"

"One of us." They shouldn't be doing this right now - they should be looking for Dad, save the arguing for the daylight when they aren't on the haunted bridge. This is how all those accidents happened when they were younger.

Now Sam is officially set off. "No," he says, moving into Dean's space, "I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility."

"Responsibility? To who, Dad? And his crusade?" His fingers twitch. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. So what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killer her, Mom's gone. She's not coming back."

And this is his snapping point, like it always is. He shoves Sam against the support beam, arm against his collar bone. "Don't talk about her like that," he says, though by this point he's not sure words really mean anything. He's said this about a thousand times since he was six and Sam learned how to ask questions.

Before he can say anything else, though, Noel calls, "Uh, guys!"

He turns, having completely forgotten she was there, and catches sight of Constance on the edge of the bridge, white dress dull. He moves towards Noel and Sam follows, keeping his eyes focused on the ghost as she moves her head, looking straight at them. Then she tips forward with no coordinated movement, plunging straight down to the river below. They run, bending over the side. He says, "Where is she?" automatically scanning for signs of a body even though she's a ghost and there won't be one.

"Gone before she hit the water," Noel answers, "so she's not down there anymore."

Even before she finishes speaking, the Impala's headlights turn on. Of all the things the damn ghost needed to possess, it just had to be his baby. Sam, like an idiot, says, "She's driving your car, isn't she?"

They run for about five seconds before he remembers that oh, yeah, they have a daughter of Poseidon with them. His brother spares a moment to look at them like they're completely insane before following them over the edge. Somehow Sam manages to cling to the railing, and despite knowing there's really nothing to be afraid of, there's still that sudden feeling of fear. As the water shoots up and propels them to the side, landing them safely on the muddy bank, the Impala stops running and Noel begins to shake.

"I hate heights," she says, hugging herself. "God, I hate falling."

He claps her on the back as he starts to head back up, seeing Sammy pull himself over the edge. "Everyone does, Noel," he says, and she just shoots him a weak glare. Makes sense, really, why she hates heights; according to her, it's ingrained into her system. Not quite a phobia, but a fight-or-flight reflex.

"Y-you guys -" Sam says when they meet up with him again, staring in shock. "The - water and, you're dry. What -"

With a smile, he answers, "I wasn't lying," and goes about checking his car. If Constance did anything to his baby, he's finding a way to kill her all over again.

"So you're really a demigod?" he hears his brother ask as Dean checks the interior. "How does that work?

"Same way you guys do. Should I give you a biology lesson?"

"Uh -"

After making sure everything's still in place, he comes around the side. "Car looks fine," he says, saving the two of them from a potentially awkward moment. "Fucking bitch."

"So where's the trail go from here, genius?" Sam says, tearing his eyes away from Noel who's starting to look uncomfortable. Though they've been working together for a year and a half, her whole parentage thing's only been discussed once or twice. From what he's managed to gather, it's not that she's embarrassed - it's that other hunters can be jackasses, too.

Instead of him, she answers, "We're finding a motel. That water's so polluted it actually hurt."

He feels fine. Freaked, but fine. Still, this isn't the first time she's said that and maybe he and Sam need some sleep in order to cool down.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Let's get out of here."

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Dean's in custody and Noel is left alone with Sam, waiting on the hood of the Impala as he makes a fake call to get his brother out. In the bright midday sun, his eyes look green. As someone who's never had a sibling, it actually freaks her out how alike the two of them and makes her feel like she's intruding. This is a family matter but here she is, helping them find a man she'll have to be careful around for the first time since this partnership began, wedged in between two people who really don't need her there.

After he's done, Sam heads back over, car keys in hand. It's daytime, so Constance won't do anything, but they aren't taking any chances. "Let's go," he says, slipping back into the driver's seat like she actually needs to be told. Now it just feels weird, sitting shotgun again.

"We should talk to the husband," she tells him as he pulls back onto the main road. Because of the height difference, she practically looks like a child next to him. She wants to add Dean will call but Sam's had him a full eighteen years before she even found him. "Do you want to come?"

He nods, focused on the road but not tense. She vaguely wonders what type of lawyer he'd be and thinks that he'd be good in criminal law. He knows all the tricks already and she doubts a human could ever really surprise him. "That's what I was planning," he answers and she doesn't miss the glance he sneaks her way. Not enough people know for her to be used to curiosity. "So, uh, where're you from?"

It takes a moment for to reply, too surprised by the decidedly normal question. "Jersey," she says. "Right up against the shoreline. The water there is nice and the school system was good."

"Did anyone ever -"

"Know that my dad was a Greek god?" He nods, seemingly embarrassed which is basically the same thing as polite for her. "No. Though honestly, enough water bottles exploded around me that you think someone would've figured it out."

Sam laughs. "Is that just a normal occurrence?" he says with a small smirk.

"Used to be," she says and he turns down the first of the many back roads they'll need to take. "Every time I get hyped up, water reacts. On the bright side, it all becomes holy water. Demons hate me."

"Do they have a hit out on you or something?"

She smiles uncertainly, not sure if he's joking. He's a lot like Dean, yeah, but really different at the same time. "I don't think so," she says, "but I do tend to have more run-ins than other hunters. Gods outside of Greco-Roman, too."

He nods and focuses back on the road which basically means he doesn't know how to react to that. Hell, she doesn't even know how to react to that and she's the one living it. In an effort to avert attention away from her, she asks, "How'd you meet Jess?"

Getting the conversation back onto the subject of college works and he tells her about the bar and some kid named Brady and how she spilled Coke all over his shirt within the first five minutes of talking. They keep on the track of higher education until they reach the dilapidated home of Constance's husband. As they exit the car, Dean calls her, tells her thanks for lying to the cops and when she says that Sam's the one who did it, she doesn't miss the note of pride her friend gets in his voice.

Yeah, she is so screwed.

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There's enough water on the floor that Noel is able to build up force and push away the dresser. Dean gasps, relieved just to have air in his lungs but it's too late, Constance already screaming and fading away with her children. His shoes are wet and his socks feel soggy. He and Sam move forward to the place she disappeared from, and behind them his friend just sort of sinks to the ground, head in her hands. Water starts pooling at her feet.

"This is where she must've drowned her kids," he says, looking from the water stain to up the stairs where the children had appeared from.

Sam's breathing is a little heavy, a reasonable side effect from almost having his heart ripped out. "This is why she could never go home," he answers. "She was too scared to face them."

"You guys found her weak stop," Dean says, slapping his brother on the chest where his shirt is torn and walks around, back over to Noel.

His brother laughs. "Yeah, wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

Dean smiles just to hear him say that, but he's turned away so it's not like Sammy can see it. He holds out his hand, helps Noel up. For him and Sam, the top of the dresser hit them only a little above the waist, but it caught her in the ribcage. "Hey," he says, twisting slightly to look at his brother. "Saved your ass. How're you holding up there, Noel?"

"Fine," she answers, hand on the area that'll inevitably bruise. "Would've been easier if I wasn't smooched between the two of you."

He ruffles her hair just because he knows she hates it. "Your fault for being short," he tells her as she tries to fix the mess he creates. "Oh and, Sammy? If you did anything to my car, I'm going to kill you."

Even though he can't see his brother, he knows he rolls his eyes. "It's fine, Dean," he says, and he better be right because backing out of this house is going to be a bitch. "Besides, you're the one who shot the window."

"What other choice did I have?"

Before Sam can answer and start up another bickering match, Noel says, "We should probably head out before the cops start looking for you too hard, Dean," and chases the water away from the tires. "You know, if I sit in the driver's seat and put the car in reverse, you could probably push it out."

He looked to his brother, who shrugged. Impalas are old school cars - heavy, not as easy to move around as plastic, but with the two of them it should work. "Key's already in the ignition," he says, and she's inside, sliding over into the passenger seat. Even though they were never indefinitely together, they were enough and he'd only let her behind the wheel once because it was an emergency. She isn't a bad driver, but that doesn't mean she's perfect with stick. "You ready?"

"Yeah, push."

It's a group effort that doesn't take long or a lot of force and in no time at all, they're back on the road, heading to Stanford instead of Colorado because even after this trip down memory lane, Sam not Sammy wants that normal, Apple Pie life.

.

Sam is vaguely aware of hands other than his brother's pulled him out of his room, away from Jessica who his mind is screaming at him that he can save. He's got the smell of burnt hair in his lungs and her blood on his forehead. There's still fire licking at the apartment walls, but Dean and Noel, he guesses, get him outside and down the stairs as the firetrucks first come around the corner. All struggle bleeds out to him and by the time they hit the cool November air, he's letting himself be dragged. The fight might be out of his body, but his mind is working itself into a knot, all thought lines leading directly to one white-hot emotion.

To put it simply, he's fucking pissed.

First Mom, now Jess and here's Dean, taking him to safety all over again. Suddenly he understand exactly what's been driving Dad for all these years and knows with absolute certainty that the only way to finish this is to find him. He's over to the car, not looking anywhere other than the trunk and the arsenal, trying to keep down his gag reflex.

"We've got worked to do."

In the background, his Apple Pie life goes up in flames.

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Wow, okay, so apparently writing episodes makes word count really long. Hope you enjoyed!