Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with Supernatural, or anything else for that matter. So please don't sue, I don't have much to give except for six tattered Harry Potter books and a fat rabbit.

Rating: T for language and violence

Summary: Sam and Dean investigate a town where men are disappearing, and one of the brothers becomes the next target.

Where The Beauty Ends

Chapter Two

"What can I get y'all?"

The bubbly waitress' strawberry blond hair was pulled into a loose bun, tucked under her red and white paper hat, which matched the "Harry's Diner" outfit that she wore. Her name tag red "Alison". Dean let a charming smile slide into his face. "Well, hi there."

Allison cocked her head to the side slightly, giving a little giggle. "Hi."

Dean stared and she flickered her eyes back and forth between the brothers. Sam tried to restrain from snickering as he leaned back against the booth. "I'll have a slice of the blueberry pie," he grinned.

Allison scribbled it town on her notepad before glancing at Dean. "I'll have the same," the eldest Winchester said, though he most likely didn't even hear what Sam ordered.

"Alright boys, I'll be back in a minute," Allison nodded, giving an embarrassed giggle as she glanced at Dean once more and walked away. Dean leaned out of the booth slightly, tilting his head as he watched her back retreat into the kitchen. He gave a low whistle as he straightened up. Sam stared and Dean let the smile slide off his face. "What?"

Sam sighed, giving his head a small shake. "Never mind."

"Ten bucks I can get her phone number," Dean continued cockily, resting his arm on the table.

Sam ignored him. "So we didn't get anything useful from Wendy," he commented.

"If she's telling the truth," Dean interrupted.

"If she's telling the truth," Sam repeated with a slight eye roll, not wanting to argue. "But even so, we should move on to the next victim."

"Which is who?"

"Here ya' go boys." Allison had reappeared, carrying a plate in each hand, and setting them down on the table. "Good choice, we have the best pie in Montana y'know."

"Thanks," Dean said smoothly. "I'm Dean, by the way."

Sam snorted and Allison glanced at him with an amused grin before looking back at Dean. "Nice to meet ya' Dean," Allison responded. "Where're you boys from?" When Dean didn't answer, she looked to Sam.

"All around really," he said with a smile.

"We travel," grinned Dean. "Are you from here?"

"Yep, born and raised right here in Denton," Allison answered proudly.

"Allison." A balding man wearing black pants, a white shirt and a matching but dirty white apron poked his head out of the kitchen. Allison glanced over her shoulder and gave him a nod before turning back to Sam and Dean. "Nice to meet you boys, Dean and..." she glanced at Sam.

"Sam," he answered.

"Sam," Allison repeated with a kind smile. "I'll see you boys later."

Dean once again watched her retreating back as she walked away. Sam raised his eyebrows, "Dean."

"What?"

Sam just sighed, digging his fork into the large, sticky-looking piece of pie in front of him. Oh wow. They weren't lying. This had to be the best freaking pie in the country.

"So what about the next victim?" Dean asked as he also started his pie.

"... uhh...," Sam said through a large mouthful of dessert. He pulled a piece of crumpled paper out of his pocket. "Uh Ahore, ee wah uh ecod oo iaeer a wee afuh ark eing." With a mouthful of pie, one can only talk in vowels.

Dean stared. "What?"

Sam chewed, and swallowed, then tried again. "Paul Hoffert, he was the second to disappear after Mark Levings."

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Sammy," Dean chided with a smirk.

"Shuddup."

Dean snickered and Sam glared before continuing, reading scribbled notes off the piece of paper. "He's twenty-four, and vanished the night before his wedding."

"How do you know he didn't just get cold feet?" Dean questioned.

"Because he disappeared during his bachelor party," Sam said. "He was at the bar hanging out with a bunch of guys who were all too drunk to realize he never came back from the bathroom. His car was still in the parking lot."

"Mmm," Dean said and Sam looked up. "Mmm?"

Dean glanced at him from across the table. "Good pie."

---

"I - I just have no idea why...," Melinda Arquette stuttered out as she dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue.

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. They had been questioning Paul Hoffert's fiancé for ten minutes now, and all they had received from her was that they were madly in love, they had no problems, the wedding was going to be the happiest day of their lives and she "just had no idea why he disappeared".

"Maybe he just ran off," the Barbie Doll-looking blond choked out. "Because he didn't want to marry me. He - he just..." The rest of her sentence was incomprehensible as she let out a long wail.

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam before clearing his throat. "Okay then, Ms. Arquette," he said, standing to his feet. "We'll call you if we need anything else." Sam stood also, the two watching the woman in front of them for some sort of response or reaction, but she simply sat there wailing and blowing her nose loudly into a tissue. "We'll let ourselves out," Dean added, nodding to Sam.

"Thanks for your time," Sam noted briefly as the brothers made their way out the door.

---

"So, she was no help at all," Dean grunted as he started the ignition.

"That makes two," Sam said. "This isn't working Dean."

"Well then what do you suggest we do, Sammy?" Dean snapped. There was a pause. "Besides, I still have a bad feeling about Wendy."

"Why?" Sam pressed as the car turned back onto Main Street. Dean gave his head a small shake, "I don't know. Didn't you, you know, sense anything off about her?"

"...no...," Sam said.

"I just can't shake it," Dean added, shaking his head again. Sam glanced at his brother, a slightly worried expression on his face before Dean spoke again. "Anyway, we should try to find a motel. You think they got one in a town like this?"

"Yeah, we passed one this afternoon at the end of the road," Sam said. "Just keep going straight and you'll find it."

Just as Sam had said, the Impala pulled to a stop in front of a dumpy motel at the end of Main Street. They were the only car in the parking lot, and the old man behind the front desk looked absolutely stunned to see the brothers walk in the door.

"Room 2A," he croaked, handing Dean a key and pointing down the hallway towards their right. "First one on the left."

"Thanks," Dean said briefly, picking up his bag and leading the way down the hall. As they reached the room and Dean opened the door, he wrinkled his nose slightly. "What a dump."

He was right. The two twin beds each only had thin, dirty sheets and a thin, just as dirty blanket. The puke-yellow paint on the walls was peeling, there were stains on the carpet and the television in the corner had only one broken antenna sprouting out of it.

"At least they have a jack to plug the laptop in to," Sam offered, spotting the small plug on the wall as he shut the door behind him.

"Yeah, well, the sooner we get -," Dean started, before being interrupted by a loud thud on their door. The brothers locked eyes for a moment before Sam pulled a gun out of his bag and made his way over towards the door. Concealing the gun behind his back, he placed his hand on the handle and yanked it open.

The hallway was empty. "What is it?" Dean asked, coming over to stand next to Sam.

"Nothing," Sam answered, pulling the door open wider to peek down the hallway. It was then that his eye caught the knife embedded in the wooden door. Wrapping a hand around the handle, he yanked it out, shutting the door and turning around to show the weapon to Dean.

"It's a warning," Sam said. "Whatever's doing this knows we're here."