"Normal is not something to aspire to; it's something to get away from." – Jodi Foster
Chapter One:
Chase Me Down
Dean Winchester was not a happy man.
He and Sam had just finished up what could only be described as a pain in the ass encounter with a poltergeist the next state over, and both of them had bruises in places that they didn't even know had existed before today. That had been early that morning, and they had driven all the way from some pissant little town in Minnesota to Cornucopia, Wisconsin, which wasn't much better as far as population went. Everyone there was pretty much either old, or a tourist.
So they hadn't really stuck out all that much when they checked in at a Motel 6 just outside 'city' limits, although the motel was just as crappy on the inside as it looked on the outside. The only thing it had going for it was that it was relatively close to the old log cabin that they had come to check out.
From what information Sam had been able to dig up online before they went to sleep, the body of a local girl that attended high school in the next town over had been found inside the cabin roughly a week ago. The girl had been strangled, but what had perplexed the local authorities was the complete and utter lack of footprints or any signs of a struggle inside the abandoned home. Add in an incredibly violent death suffered by the previous owner five years before, the mysterious disappearance of the one before him, and presto! Instant haunting.
With that in mind, he and Sam were fully prepared to go out and do a standard salt and burn the next morning. Sam had conked out the moment his head had hit the pillow, but Dean had a harder time falling asleep than his brother usually did.
Roughly around one in the morning, just when he was about to fall asleep himself, a bright flash of blue-white light that seared his retinas lit up the area right in front of his bed, followed by the loud 'whump' of something heavy hitting the floor. This was soon followed by the distinctive sound of someone muttering profanities through gritted teeth, probably from whoever had appeared in their room. Dean scowled as he slowly reached over towards his duffle bag and pulled out the sawed-off shotgun that he had left stashed in there – just in case. While the person that had landed in their room was still sitting there and muttering obscene suggestions to the world in general under their breath, he silently slid out of bed and came up behind them before removing the safety on the shotgun.
The person, probably a girl if the long hair and slight frame was anything to go by, immediately tensed up and cringed visibly, although she didn't turn around.
"Please tell me that isn't what I think it is," she whispered, thus cementing Dean's earlier observation that it was a girl he was dealing with.
"I don't know, what do you think it is?" he asked sardonically as he prodded her right between her shoulders with the muzzle of the gun in an attempt to get her to turn around, but she didn't move. He scowled as he shot a heated glare at the girl; he really hated it when demons played stupid.
After that was when things got interesting. Sam woke up and joined him in covering the demon chick, which seemed to freak her out even more. And then she started babbling something about being on Candid Camera and being asked to join a cult. He'd seen some pretty desperate last-ditch attempts by demons trying to throw them off their trail before so he and Sam wouldn't exorcise their sorry asses, but this was just pathetic.
The moment the girl seemed to come to the conclusion that she was in some seriously deep shit, she pulled the old 'there's something behind you a hell of a lot scarier than you' act, and he and Sam fell for it like a couple of idiots, right before she ran for the door. He almost caught her when she got out onto the landing, but the bitch slammed the door on his hand before she took off as though an army was at her heels. They had both fallen into bed wearing their clothes, with the promise of taking a shower and cleaning up in the morning when they weren't so damn tired, so it was really only a matter of shoving their feet into their respective shoes and taking off after the runaway. She managed to make it all the way down to the parking lot and under the hedge separating the motel from the forest before Sam caught up with her and grabbed her by the ankle, preventing the girl from disappearing completely under the foliage.
For a few moments he thought that Sam would be able to pull her out from under the hedge, at least until she kicked him hard in the shoulder and disappeared entirely from view.
"Wow Sammy, that's really bad when the chicks start running from you," he commented as he stalked up next to his brother, who had jerked out from under the hedge and was now holding his right shoulder. "Care to tell me why you just got beaten up a by a girl?"
"Shut up," Sam muttered as he rubbed at his abused shoulder ruefully. "She kicks hard."
"That's because she's a demon, man."
Sam arched an eyebrow as he stood up and fixed his older brother with a thoughtful look, a slight frown on his lips before he glanced back over his shoulder at the hedge.
"Dean, I don't think that girl was a demon," he said finally as he reached up and brushed the leaves out of his hair. "She acted more like a scared kid than anything… well, I don't think that she was a kid, but she definitely didn't know how she got into our room any more than we did."
Dean just rolled his eyes before he turned around and headed back towards the parking lot, pulling his keys out of his pocket as he did so.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you think? We're going after her," Dean stated as he unlocked the front door to the Impala and opened it. "Demon chick running loose around B.F.E. Wisconsin trumps pissed-off ghost any day. And, if we wait until morning that thing may have already skipped town."
Sam let out a long sigh, but joined the elder Winchester in the Impala before Dean pulled out of the parking lot and headed down the rural street.
He had a feeling that it was going to be one of those nights.
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Taylor had been a little put out once she realized that she was farther outside of town that she had thought, but after spending twenty minutes of trudging through the forest to avoid being spotted by someone if her pursuers happened to drive by while still keeping the road in sight she finally stumbled upon the outskirts of town. For a few moments she thought that she had made it back to Portland and all she needed to do was find the closest gas station so she could go in and use the phone so she could call Hannah and have her pick her up. That momentary hope died a cold and uncaring death the second she caught sight of the sign that proudly welcomed her to 'Cornucopia'.
"What the hell?" she hissed, her wide hazel eyes riveted firmly on the large wooden sign that had so effortlessly crushed her hopes. "Where the hell is Cornucopia anyways? I swear these freaking signs should have a state map that says 'You are here' on them or something. It would make thing so much easier."
Taylor fumed for a few more seconds before she resumed her trek into town. Given how her luck had been going for the past few hours, she had probably been transported to one of the many small towns scattered around Oregon, which also translated to stuck in the middle of nowhere.
"Well this is just friggin' peachy," she growled darkly as she thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans and headed towards the sidewalk. "I don't even know how far away from Portland I am. I swear if I ever get my hands on Ryan or his buddies… no, not if, when. And once I do they are so dead!"
The image of what Mikey would do to Ryan and any participating parties if he found out what they had done to her briefly came to mind, and Taylor had to smirk at the thought. If Mikey ever found out that Ryan had drugged his baby sister, not to mention dumped her in another town, there would be no force on this earth, or in Heaven or Hell either for that matter, that would protect him from her brother's wrath.
For some reason the thought of her brother kicking Ryan's ass cheered Taylor up immensely, and what could only be described as a shit-eating smirk crept across her face. The swimmer let out a soft sigh as she walked further into the small town, feeling significantly safer now that she had left the motel far behind her. Unfortunately, Taylor didn't even manage to reach a gas station before her luck failed her.
The rumble of a car slowly coming up the street behind her caught the young woman off guard, and as she turned around she briefly thought that it was a cop out on a late night patrol. However, as she stood there on the sidewalk for a few seconds in full view of the headlights, she noticed the distinct lack of bubblegum lights on top of the black car. When the vehicle suddenly accelerated towards her, Taylor immediately realized that she had been incredibly stupid, not to mention careless. What the hell had possessed her to believe that she would be able to ditch her pursuers as easily as she had?
Oh yeah, it was called wishful thinking.
Spitting out a curse that practically burned the very air around her, Taylor broke into a panicked run down the street, trying desperately to outrun the car. Even though she knew that there was no way that she'd be able to evade the men, especially if they decided that it was a good idea to run her down, she was definitely going to try.
"Hey you bastards, why don't you try this one on for size?!" she snarled as she suddenly stopped and spun around before taking off in the opposite direction. Taylor smirked dryly as the black car came to a screeching halt, and she promptly used the occupant's temporary confusion as an opportunity to bolt across the road and dart into the alley between two rows of houses.
What she didn't count on was her pursuers backing up and pulling into the alleyway after her.
"Son of a bitch!" Taylor spat as she hauled ass down the dirt alley. She really didn't want to end up as a red smear on some asshole's grille.
Just when she thought that she was about two seconds away from doing a meet 'n greet with Saint Peter up at the Pearly Gates, Taylor saw a pair of metal trash cans placed up nest to the eight-foot wooden fence that lined both sides of the alley. Breaking into a sprint, she clambered up onto the one of metal lids and gripped the top of the rough wooden boards before she hauled herself up and hopped over the fence into someone's backyard. In her haste to get over the fence, Taylor didn't think about the landing part right until she hit the dirt yard on the other side of the fence and promptly fell flat on her face. The woman let out a long, slow breath as she straightened up and gently let her right hand rest over her chest just as she heard the very distinctive sounds of someone slamming car doors shut in the alley.
The blood immediately drained from Taylor's face as she glanced back over her shoulder cautiously before taking one step forward, only to retreat hastily as a low, threatening snarl reverberated across the yard, the noise coming from a wooden doghouse that was in the opposite corner of the yard. A cold feeling of dread started welling up in her stomach as Taylor eyed the dog house apprehensively, and promptly went dead white as a massive Rottweiler stalked out of the house, its beady black eyes fixed unerringly on her.
"Oh God," she whispered shakily as she tried to shove herself into the corner of the fence furthest from the large dog, but all it did was seem to make the Rottweiler even more intent on coming over to deal with her. "Please, go away. Good doggie. Go back to sleep, please. Just… just leave me alone…"
The Rottweiler's threatening snarls slowly increased in volume as he deliberately stalked towards Taylor, his yellowed fangs bared and a malicious glint in his dark eyes. She felt any further pleas die in her throat as she stared at the approaching canine, her entire body trembling visibly with sheer and absolute terror as memories from eighteen years ago came to mind. Taylor couldn't even manage to repress the whimper that unintentionally left her throat as she stared at the slavering canine with impossibly wide eyes, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Short, blunt nails dug deep into the rough wood of the fence behind her as the woman pressed her back up against the weathered boards, praying that one of them would give way and allow her to fall back out into the alleyway.
This time Mikey wouldn't be there to pull the dog off of her, to keep it from ripping her apart just like it had tried to do all those years ago. And jumping the fence again wasn't an option since she didn't have something to boost her up. Just when Taylor was about to go into a full-blown panic attack, she heard a male voice just above her head.
"Give me your hand."
Taylor swallowed nervously before she slowly looked over her right shoulder and saw Sam hanging over the fence, a hand extended towards her. Judging from how much of his upper body was visible over the top of the fence, he was probably standing on top of the same trash cans she had used earlier to jump the fence.
Another snarl emanated from the Rottweiler, only it was closer this time.
"Hurry!"
Taylor blanched before she grabbed Sam's hand and allowed him to hastily haul her up over the fence, cringing only slightly when he grabbed her by the belt loops of her jeans to get a better grip and hauled her feet out of the way of the Rottweiler's snapping jaws. There was no argument there; she'd rather be shot than be ripped apart by an enraged dog.
Unfortunately, Sam apparently hadn't thought past getting her over the fence, and had forgotten about what momentum can do when you're perched rather precariously on top of something that has crappy balance, like an aluminum trash can. Both he and Taylor fell to the ground in the alley with a loud 'whump', with Sam lying flat on his back, holding Taylor close to his chest. The two adults didn't move for several moments, both of them trying to regain their breath, before the sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention.
"You know, Sammy, if you really wanted to know how to get girls to throw themselves at you, all you had to do was ask," a laconic voice stated calmly from somewhere off to Taylor's right, and she promptly let out a loud groan as she rolled off of the taller man.
"Oh God," she muttered as she flopped down on her back and stared up at Dean, who was holding a pistol in one hand as he looked at her speculatively. "Okay, it is now official; today sucks ass."
"Really now?" Dean asked wryly as he shot Sam a look. Before anyone could do anything, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a small flask, which he then uncapped before unceremoniously dumping its contents on Taylor's face. The woman sputtered angrily as she sat up and wiped the holy water off of her face, but other than that nothing happened.
"What the hell was that for?!" she demanded hotly as she glared daggers at the older Winchester, who merely shrugged as he returned the empty flask to his jacket and holstered his pistol.
"Just checking."
"For what?"
"Christo."
Taylor arched an eyebrow as she stared at him, a puzzled frown crossing her face.
"Did you just swear in Latin?" she finally asked, her tone almost incredulous.
Dean opened his mouth to make an appropriately snarky remark, but was interrupted by the Rottweiler throwing itself bodily against the fence while barking up a storm. Taylor paled visibly as she let out a yelp and skidded backwards until her back hit the fence on the far side of the alley, her shirt slipping down to reveal her right shoulder.
Ironically, Sam was the one who noticed it first as he stood up and slowly brushed himself off, brown eyes locking on the scar that almost completely encircled the upper portion of the young woman's shoulder. Judging from the looks of things, it was pretty old, but still noticeable. And it was definitely teeth marks of some kind. The younger Winchester made a slight hand motion that drew Dean's attention to the scar, and he let out a low whistle of surprise. Taylor noticed that they were staring and immediately pulled her flannel shirt back up so that her scar was covered, an odd look flickering across her face.
"Damn, that's one hell of a shiner," Dean quipped with a grin, trying to appear nonchalant. "What happened?"
"Ask the psycho pooch over there," Taylor grumbled as she slowly stood up and jerked a thumb over at the fence where the Rottweiler was now growling loudly at them, all while keeping a wary eye on both Winchesters, just in case they decided to pull a gun on her again. "He was the one trying to give me a repeat performance."
"Well that sucks. What did you do to piss him off?"
"Nothing. Just like how I did nothing to warrant getting a fucking shotgun aimed at me!" Taylor snarled as she glared daggers at Dean, who looked momentarily taken aback by the woman's hostility. Sam, sensing that things would start going bad fast if he didn't do something, stepped in between his brother and Taylor, effectively creating a barrier between the two.
"Look, I'm really sorry about that," he said as he looked Taylor in the eyes. Dean managed to ruin the moment as he let out a disbelieving snort, and Sam shot him a warning look over his shoulder. "And Dean's sorry about it too."
"Your eyes are brown," Taylor stated flatly as she stared at Sam, a deadpan expression on her face.
"What?"
"Did I stutter? I said that your eyes are brown. You're full of shit," she said with a roll of her eyes. "You both are. Good grief, do you two own stock for the B.S. Express or something?"
"Are you saying that we're liars?" Dean growled. Taylor arched an eyebrow as she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a look that plainly said 'no shit'.
"No, I'm saying that you suck at it. I've come up with better excuses before, and I can't lie to save my life," she retorted with an irritated sigh before she brought her hand up and slowly began to massage the bridge of her nose in an effort to dispel the tension that was building up behind her eyes. "God, this is nuts. I'm having a somewhat civil conversation with the people who helped kidnap me."
"Excuse me? We didn't kidnap you sweetheart," Dean snapped. "I hate to break it to you, but you're the one who took it upon yourself to appear right in the middle of our hotel room."
"And how, pray tell, did I just 'magically' appear in your room, eh?" Taylor asked sarcastically, forming air quotes with her fingers at the word 'magically' as she gave the elder Winchester a supremely dirty look. "Somehow, I think it's a little difficult to be standing out in the woods in Portland one minute, and then just 'appear' the next in some cheap-ass motel room in a town I've never even heard of before."
Dean opened his mouth to say something rude, only to be cut off by Sam as he held up a hand to indicate that he had just thought of something.
"Did you say Portland?" he asked quietly, an odd look on his face as he looked at Taylor carefully. "As in Portland, Oregon?"
"Yeah. Is there another Portland?" Taylor hesitated for a second before she stared at both men in obvious confusion. "And why are you talking about Oregon like we aren't already there?"
Both Winchesters exchanged almost identical looks of shock and disbelief before they returned their attention to Taylor, who now looked a little unnerved.
"You… you think that you're still in Oregon?" Sam finally said, and was rewarded with Taylor paling noticeably as she started shaking her head, trying to deny what had not yet been said.
"No… no way. There's no way that I… I mean, how? I was only out for a little while," she said hesitantly, as though she was trying to convince herself of what she was saying. "If… if I'm not in Oregon anymore, then where am I?"
"Try Wisconsin," Dean supplied helpfully, causing Taylor to turn the color of an old sheet before her knees gave way and she sat down on the dirt, hard.
"Wisconsin?" she asked weakly, her eyes wide in disbelief as she received an affirmative nod from both brothers, before she let out a low moan and buried her head in her hands. "Oh god. How in the hell did I end up in freaking South Canada?"
"South Canada?" Sam asked curiously, while Dean just snickered quietly at the woman's sarcasm.
"I think what she's saying is that it gets cold here in the winter, Sammy," he offered as he slapped his brother on the shoulder. Sam glared at him as he reached up and rubbed his shoulder reflexively.
"Knock it off, Dean."
"Make me."
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
A soft whimper interrupted the friendly insults, and the two Winchesters turned around to see Taylor looking as though she was on the verge of an emotional meltdown. Sam immediately took charge of the situation as he knelt down in front of the violently shaking woman and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, making her twitch in surprise as she whipped her head up to look at him with wide eyes.
"Miss, can you tell us your name and what exactly happened?" he asked softly. "We might be able to help you."
"I don't know about help, but I definitely want to know what the hell Ryan shot me up with that knocked me out long enough for him to haul me across five states without me waking up," Taylor said darkly, although there was a noticeable tremor in her voice. "I don't even remember him pricking me with something, much less passing out."
"That's probably because you didn't," Dean said simply, ignoring the bitchface that Sam gave him for his blunt commentary. Taylor scowled as she leveled a murderous glare at him.
"Okay, so what's your theory on this then, genius?" she growled bad-temperedly before she reached up and raked a hand through her bangs. Dean arched an eyebrow at her attitude before flashed the younger woman a cocky smirk.
"Well, that would depend on whether or not you want to tell us about what you remember before you… woke up in our motel room," he stated calmly, choosing not to mention the fact that she had appeared and not woken up. She had been perfectly lucid when he had talked to her.
"How can you help me anyways? I don't know you two from Adam, so how do I know that I can trust you?" Taylor asked with a scowl as she crossed her arms over her chest, her expression one of utter defiance.
The Winchesters exchanged looks before they both reached into their pockets and pulled out one of their many fake IDs, this one stating that they were both private investigators. Taylor stared at the badges for a few moments before she blinked and looked suitably abashed.
"You guys are cops?"
"Actually, we're private investigators, but technically it's the same thing," Sam offered with a small grin, trying to lighten the tension.
"No, private investigators get paid for checking things out by the people who hire them, cops don't. They get paid by the city or county that they work for," she corrected wearily. "Sorry for kicking you like that earlier."
"You were scared out of your mind. I think that you had a reason to try and fight back."
"Yeah right," Dean scoffed, but fell silent as Sam shot him a look that plainly said 'shut up'.
Taylor frowned for a moment before she let out a long sigh and once again ran a hand through her hair.
"This guy, Ryan Williams, kind of asked me out after my last class… yesterday afternoon. He asked if I wanted to go hiking with him out in the forest by the school." Taylor hesitated, almost as though she was unsure how she should continue, before she took a deep breath and continued with her narration. "I said yes. We met up outside of my dorm at about four thirty, and I told my roommate, who was staying in for the night, that I'd probably be back around eight or so."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold it," Dean said as he waved his hand to indicate that Taylor should stop for a second, before he gave her a disbelieving look. "This guy asked you out, and his idea of a good first date was to take you hiking? That's just sad. He practically hung a sign around his neck saying 'I will never get laid' by doing that."
Sam let out a low groan as he rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to cover his face with his hand. His brother had all the subtleness of a rampaging bulldozer.
"Well, I just thought that it was more of a 'get to know you' thing," Taylor said with a shrug, ignoring the majority of Dean's comment. "At least until he started asking me a bunch of questions."
"Isn't that the point of a 'get to know you' date?" Dean snarked, only to receive a flat stare from Taylor as she quirked an eyebrow slightly, and an annoyed curse from Sam.
"Dean," the youngest Winchester warned, and his brother let out a sigh as he rolled his eyes before he resumed the professional line of questioning.
"Like what?"
"Try something along the lines of whether or not I was a Wiccan just because I enjoy reading folklore," she pointed out with an irritated snort. "He also seemed pretty wigged when I told him that I had talked to my brother on the phone before I left my dorm and told him where I was going."
"Are you a Wiccan?" Sam asked suddenly, and Taylor immediately gave him an incredulous look.
"No! Are you kidding me? My grandmother would skin me alive if she ever caught wind of me messing around with crap like that!" she said fervently before she gave both Winchesters a somewhat crooked grin. "Believe me, nothing is scarier than a pissed-off Scottish grandmother out after your blood. And her weapon of choice happens to be a wooden spoon."
Dean and Sam both winced at the mention of the spoon, the former rubbing the back of his head in memory of one of the harder whacks that Missouri had landed on him with her own spoon 'o doom.
"So, what happened after that?" Sam finally asked after a few moments when it became clear that Dean had decided that he was done playing twenty questions. Taylor frowned slightly before she let out a soft sigh and absentmindedly brushed her bangs out of her face.
"Ryan led me into this clearing out in the woods. It was far enough away from the trail that people wouldn't notice anything going on in there during the day, and it was surrounded by all of these huge bushes." The woman paused for a second before she let out an irritated growl and reached up once again to massage the bridge of her nose. "I'm such an idiot. I should have been paying attention when I walked into the clearing, especially since it was ringed with all of these big-ass rocks. I didn't notice it until later, but they all had some kind of occult symbol scribbled on them."
"What were the symbols written in?"
"Black Sharpie."
Dean burst out laughing at this, an amused smirk flashing across his face as he shook his head.
"Wow, your cult buddies already sound like a bunch of pansies," he snickered. Taylor just rolled her eyes in response.
"They're not my buddies, and I only know of the one person who is in said cult. The only reason I know that Ryan wasn't acting alone was because he said that I could help 'us', meaning that there was more than just him. And his exact words were 'find some stuff that even we haven't been able to locate before'."
Sam decided that he need to break up the impending argument before thing got bad. He really didn't feel like trying to break up a fistfight at the moment.
"What happened after that?"
"That was about when Ryan started acting really weird, especially after I told him that I wasn't interested in joining a cult. He started walking towards me with this… creepy as hell expression on his face, and I backed up until I tripped on something and fell flat on my ass. Right in the middle of the creepy clearing." The young woman stopped and frowned, her expression darkening as she reached up and started rubbing her upper right arm. "That was when things got really weird. For one second I thought everything was normal and I was about to try and get up so I could make a run for it, and then the next it was like some gigantic hole had opened up right under me and I was falling. I'm pretty sure that was about when the hallucinations started."
Sam and Dean exchanged knowing looks before the younger Winchester made a small gesture with his had to indicate that Taylor should continue. They needed to wrap this up fast anyways, since it looked as though the gravity of the situation was starting to hit the woman hard.
"What were the hallucinations about?" Sam asked, and then froze at the contemptuously filthy look that Taylor gave him and Dean before he lifted up his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm only asking because you may have picked up something that was going on around you that may help us out."
Taylor's expression softened into one of resigned understanding before she let out a tired sigh. "Mostly, it was just me falling through this dark void, with no beginning or end, and no way for me to tell if or when I'd hit the bottom. The last part was really pretty messed up though. I started hearing voices."
"Voices?" Dean asked suddenly, earning a skeptical look from the tired woman.
"Yes, voices," she stated simply as she rolled her eyes. "And no, I do not have any history of mental illness in my family."
"I wasn't going to say that."
"Bull. The second someone says that they're hearing voices, the first question people always ask is whether or not they're going mental."
Dean opened his mouth to issue a retort, and Sam promptly socked him in the arm.
"What did the voices say?" he asked, pointedly ignoring Dean's evil glare.
"I don't remember all of it, mostly because I was kind of freaking out a bit at that point, but I do remember one thing that was said. It just stuck, for some weird reason, even though I have absolutely no clue what the hell it means," Taylor admitted reluctantly. "I think it was something along the lines of 'Of all the things we've hunted, how many exist just because people believed in them?' Whatever that means." She let out a sigh as she reached up and rubbed the back of her neck, only to look up and notice that she had the complete and undivided attention of both Winchesters. "What?"
"Nothing. It's nothing," Sam muttered as he shook his head, trying to hide his unease, while Dean just shot Taylor a dirty look. She arched an eyebrow questioningly as she looked at the two men, worry flickering through her eyes.
"Look, something I said freaked you guys out, and if it did, I'm sorry. Besides, I shouldn't have said anything in the first place," Taylor pointed out with a weary sigh before she brought her right hand up and started to massage her temple. "It was just a damn hallucination, nothing more. Any ways, it's not like it was real or anything."
"Uh-huh, right," Dean growled under his breath. There was dead silence in the alley for several long moments as the three adults all stared at each other, each of them trying to keep their expressions neutral, with some of them faring better than others. Finally, Sam let out a weary sigh as he reached up and started to rub the back of his neck.
"Well, I guess we better get going since its pretty late, huh?" he said, giving his brother a meaningful look. "It'd probably be best if we finished discussing this somewhere more private anyways."
"Yeah," Dean muttered as he looked Taylor over before he frowned. "What did you say your name was again?"
"I didn't," Taylor pointed out wearily as she tried her best not to say anything sarcastic. "And my name's Taylor. Taylor Harding."
"Isn't that a boy's name?"
The death glare that Dean received from the woman was more than enough to tell him that she had heard the question before, and she was most definitely not amused.
"Okay, sorry, but you do understand that we'll also need other personal information, such as your height, age," Dean hesitated for a second before he allowed a slight smirk to cross his features. "Bust size."
Sam gaped at the elder Winchester in shock, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly in a mixture of stunned disbelief and irritation at his brother's sheer and utter lack of tact. Taylor just stared flatly at him, her expression one of disgust and annoyance, before she slowly raised her right hand and held her index, middle, and pointer fingers up.
"Read between the lines," she growled darkly, baring her teeth in what she hoped was a threatening manner. Sam blinked once at the woman's audacity before he burst out laughing, earning him an annoyed scowl from Dean
Apparently she had dealt with people like his brother before.
"Okay, how about we get back to the motel now before it gets too late?" Sam asked as he walked over to Taylor and held out his hand, offering to help her up. The woman looked at him hesitantly for a few moments before she placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her to her feet. Once she was on her feet and relatively certain that she wouldn't collapse again, she pulled away from Sam and stood a reasonable distance away from him. There was a slight moment of awkward silence before the lanky man spoke again. "So, that's one nasty scar, huh? You said something about being attacked by a dog?"
"Yeah, when I was five," she muttered as she took another small step away from the man, mostly for her own reassurance. She had no illusions as to how far she'd be able to run before Longshanks caught her, even though they said that they would help her. "I was playing out in my front yard when this Rottweiler from down the street from us got out. The funny thing was I didn't even notice it until it knocked be flat on my back and embedded its teeth in my shoulder. All I remember being able to do was scream bloody murder, at least until Mikey ran out of the house and drop-kicked the damn thing in the face."
"Mikey?"
"My big brother," Taylor offered. "He was about eleven when it happened. Anyways, he grabbed me and dragged me up into the bed of our dad's truck before the Rottweiler could come after us again and started yelling for our dad. It was the first time I ever went to the emergency room, and I've spent the rest of my life trying to stay out."
"Why, you don't like the doctors and their scary tongue depressors?" Dean asked sarcastically, earning him an evil glare from Taylor as she crossed her arms over her chest.
"No, try something more along the lines of I'm not exactly fond being stitched up like a broken stuffed animal," she growled. "I was five, and I kept saying 'no stitches no stitches' when the doctors told me that they had to close up my shoulder, especially since I was pretty much bleeding all over the place. So the nurse tells me that they're just going to put bandages on my shoulder. I was completely fine with that and I calmed down, at least until the doctor came in and threaded this big-ass needle before he started stitching up my shoulder."
Dean looked as though he wanted to burst out laughing, while Sam just shook his head.
"So, you hate needles then?" he ventured, and earned a wry snort from Taylor as she glanced over at him.
"And hospitals. But mostly needles. They're the tools of evil, and right up there with math books. If you pour holy water on them, they burst into flame," she said as she made a flicking gesture with her wrist, almost as though she was banishing any imaginary needles away from her, sending the unbuttoned cuffs of her sleeve flopping away from her hand. Both Winchesters watched her for a few seconds, taking in the still-tense body language that the woman was displaying even as she made some half-assed attempts at cracking jokes
Even though she was doing her best to appear nonchalant, it was blatantly obvious to both Dean and Sam that Taylor was scared out of her mind. Neither one of them really blamed her though. She'd just had her first encounter with the weird shit that they dealt with on a daily basis, and she was trying desperately to cling to what little sanity her world had left.
Both of them silently agreed that they were going to let her, even if it meant coming off as a couple of semi-careless private investigators who didn't lock the door to their motel room properly. That was their story, and they were sticking to it.
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The drive back to the Motel 6 was pretty quiet, and consisted mostly of Taylor staring out the window of the backseat with a lost look in her eyes. It had taken a quite bit of talking, mostly from Sam, since he was the less flirty of the two, to get the young woman into the Impala, but after a while she finally caved and accepted the offer for a ride back to the motel for what it was. She wasn't completely at ease with either one of the Winchesters, but at least she wasn't trying to run for her life, convinced that they were trying to kill her.
When they pulled into the motel parking lot and parked right in the same space that they had vacated less than an hour earlier, Taylor merely looked up at the building and softly muttered 'civilization' under her breath. This earned her a few odd looks from the Winchesters before Sam motioned for her to follow him up the stairs and Dean brought up the rear, eyeing the quiet women warily.
"I'm not gonna run away again, you know," she finally stated, her voiced thickly laced with weary annoyance as she cast a glance over her shoulder at the hunter. Dean gave a rude-sounding snort of disbelief.
"I'll believe it when I see it."
"Gee, thanks. Your faith in me is overwhelming," Taylor drawled sarcastically as she returned her attention to the ground in front of her. "You know, for private investigators, you guys sure are paranoid. I thought you were supposed to help people."
"And you wouldn't call this helping?" Dean retorted. "From what I can see, we're giving you a place to stay for the night until you can call someone to pick you up in the morning. That goes above and beyond the call of duty."
The woman turned around fully to face him, an indescribable expression on her face as she looked him right in the eye for several seconds, her gaze never wavering. Once she seemed to be satisfied with whatever she was looking for, she let her gaze drop as a resigned look replaced the previous expression and she let out a long sigh before she turned back around to follow Sam again.
"Sorry if I'm being a pain in the ass," she finally said as she brought her hand up to rub the back of her head. "Look, I … I just want to be able to get home in one piece, okay? My brother's first kid is going to be born in a few months, and he and his wife have already named me its godmother. Knowing my brother, if something were to happen to me… well, he'd probably name the poor kid after me in my 'honor' or something like that. Besides, it's kind of cruel and unusual punishment to name a kid after your dead relatives."
"Sam and I are both named after our grandparents," Dean interjected, giving Taylor a dirty look, his voice heavy with the implied 'don't insult our names'. She glanced over her shoulder at him and chuckled, a wry grin twitching about her lips as she gave a half-hearted shrug.
"And I'm named after my mom's best friend since high school. She was killed by a drunk driver the year before I was born. Like I said, it's kind of depressing."
Sam chuckled quietly up ahead, and Dean scowled while Taylor just rolled her eyes and shook her head, a faint smile on her lips.
"Okay, we get it. Enough with the lame jokes already," he muttered irritably. Taylor arched an eyebrow, but didn't say anything else. Sam just looked in between them before he received the slight nod of affirmation from Dean that indicated that he could let them in. The younger Winchester unlocked the door to their room and stepped aside so that Taylor could go in first. She didn't even hesitate as she stepped across the line of salt spread in front of the threshold, nor did she really notice it, and walked over to the other side of the room, where she promptly flopped down in a spindly wooden chair with a loud sigh.
Sam glanced over at the woman, and almost immediately wished he hadn't. The wearily resigned look in her eyes as she stared at them was worse than the stubborn defiance he had seen earlier.
"So… what's next?" she finally asked after both men had entered the room and closed the door behind them, Dean pausing long enough to throw the deadbolt and door chain. Dean gazed at her speculatively for a few moments, his brow furrowing in concentration before he forced a nonchalant shrug as he sat down on his bed.
"Now we get some sleep," he stated as he kicked off his boots and let them drop to the floor. "You can call your folks in the morning and make arrangements to get back home."
Taylor stared at them blankly for a few moments before she nodded. "Sounds like a plan. I just wish I hadn't lost my cell phone though."
"You lost your cell phone?"
"Unfortunately."
"That sucks."
The woman rolled her eyes as she gave a rather undignified-sounding snort and folded her arms in front of her chest, leaning back slightly in the chair.
"Man, you're tellin' me," she muttered dryly before she brought her hand up and began to massage the bridge of her nose once again, her eyes closing slightly as she did so. "I keep thinking that this can't get any worse, and then something new pops up. At least I still have my wallet though, so all is not lost."
"Really now. And why is that?" Dean couldn't help asking sarcastically. Taylor just ignored him as she closed her eyes, almost as though she wanted to pretend that she was alone in the room.
"Because I can't buy a plane ticket without photo ID," she finally said. "And somehow, I think that's how this is going to go down."
Dean gave a disbelieving snort, but didn't say anything else as he reclined on his bed. Sam arched an eyebrow questioningly as he gave his brother a look that plainly said 'you can't be serious'.
"What about her?" he asked as he pointed over in Taylor's direction, earning a slightly bewildered look from the woman in question. "Where's she going to sleep?"
Dean smirked as he leaned over the gap between the beds and grabbed one of the pillows before he threw it at Sam, who caught it before it hit him in the face.
"Congratulations, you just volunteered to sleep on the floor," he said in a falsely cheerful tone, ignoring the affronted expression on the taller man's face as he slumped back on his bed. Before Sam could say anything to dispute this statement, Taylor jerked her head up to stare at them in a traditional 'deer in the headlights' manner, her eyes wide and mouth moving wordlessly in shock.
"Y-you don't have to do that!" she finally stammered out as she looked in between the brothers almost frantically. "I'm good with sleeping on the floor. Honest."
Sam and Dean both exchanged glances before the younger man shrugged and got up to retrieve a spare blanket from the cabinet under the TV.
"You might as well," he told Taylor offhandedly over his shoulder. The woman looked as though she was about to protest, only to have Sam give her a look that plainly indicated she didn't really have a choice.
"Fine," she sighed reluctantly as she bent down to unlace her boots and slid them off, leaving them sitting at the foot of the chair before she padded over to the bed and allowed herself to collapse on the lumpy mattress, not even bothering to take off her overshirt. It wasn't like she needed to get up and go to class in the morning.
Taylor let out a long sigh as she pulled the thin pillow up to her face and buried her head in it, silently wishing that when she woke up she'd find out that this whole fiasco was nothing more than a bad dream brought on by eating bad Chinese food. She honestly didn't expect to be able to fall asleep, especially after everything that had happened within the past hour, hour-and-a-half, but soon Taylor found herself drifting off, welcoming the dark oblivion that sleep offered her.
Once both Winchesters were certain that the woman was sound asleep, Dean frowned slightly as he sat up and stared at Sam, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced over at Taylor.
"Okay, what the hell is going on?" he finally growled as he jerked a thumb over at the woman's slumbering form. "It's not like I'm complaining or anything, but the last time I checked, motel rooms didn't come with a free chick."
"Dean, keep your voice down," Sam hissed as he cast a precautionary glimpse over at Taylor to make sure that she was really asleep, and was satisfied to see that she was out like a light. "Look, that girl was more scared of us and what she thought we might do to her than anything else. She did what pretty much every normal person would do if they woke up with someone aiming a gun at them: she ran."
"Sammy, you say she woke up, but she was awake and lucid when I saw her. Hell, I heard her land on the floor or whatever it was that happened," Dean retorted hotly. "One second I'm lying on the bed, about to go to sleep, and the next there's this big flash of light before I hear a thump and swearing. I'm telling you right now, that girl is not normal."
"Well from what I can tell, she doesn't have a clue what happened to her, and she didn't react to the salt or the holy water," the taller man pointed out in what he hoped was a patient tone. "She's not a demon or a ghost, and probably not a witch."
"Then maybe she's something else."
"Or maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like she told us!" Sam growled back before he pointed over at Taylor. "Look Dean, so far she hasn't really given us any reason to think she's something other than a perfectly normal girl who got involved with the supernatural by accident."
"And how do you explain the whole bit with her appearing in our motel room at one in the morning?" Dean asked harshly.
"She mentioned the circle in the clearing she was in before she ended up here. That Ryan guy was probably intending on using her for a sacrifice of some kind, and the result dumped her here."
Dean scowled as he stared intently at his brother, his eyebrows knitting together in a purely annoyed fashion before he cast a meaningful glance over at Taylor.
"And how do you know that she's not a changeling, or even a succubus?"
The youngest Winchester gave a skeptical snort as he cocked an eyebrow, a faintly amused smile twitching about his lips as he shook his head.
"Dean, somehow I severely doubt that girl is a succubus. Aren't they supposed to be… drop-dead gorgeous or something?" Sam asked as he flashed his brother a faint grin. "I mean, I'm not saying that she's ugly or anything, but-"
"She's no supermodel," Dean pointed out with a sigh before he gave Sam one of his patented smirks. "Fine, I'll drop it for now, but in the morning we're going to make sure this girl isn't something dangerous before we ship her off to wherever the hell she's from."
"Portland."
"Whatever. Just go to sleep, Samantha."
Sam scowled at the older man and decided that no, throwing the pillow at Dean was probably not the best idea.
"Don't call me that," he huffed in annoyance as he lay down on the floor and tried to get comfortable. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to get very much sleep.
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When Taylor woke up the next morning to the sound of a man singing loudly in her room, she let out a loud groan as she pulled her pillow over her head to block out the annoying sounds.
"Damien. Stop singing," she growled tiredly as she mentally envisioned throttling her roommate's boyfriend while trying to go back to sleep. "Not all of us are freakish morning people like you."
The singing stopped, and Taylor let out a sigh of relief as she relaxed and allowed herself to drift off again, a slow smile creeping across her face. At least she this time she hadn't needed to throw something at the annoyingly cheerful man, or threaten him with hanging him upside down from the flagpole out front in nothing but his boxers.
"And just who is Damien?" someone asked right in her ear, causing the woman to let out a yelp as she shot up and automatically twisted away from the man, somehow managing to wrap the sheets around her in the process. Taylor let out a long and fluid string of curses as she fell over the side of the motel bed with a loud 'thump', earning an amused snicker from Dean as he watched her squirm about on the floor in an effort to free herself from the offending sheets.
"A little jumpy this morning, huh?" he asked dryly, earning an annoyed snort as Taylor looked up at him before a brief flash of disappointment crossed her face. Wordlessly, the woman lowered her eyes as she stared down at the pale blue sheets twisted around her legs before she let out a faint sigh and started untangling the fabric from her own limbs.
"No, I just don't like being surprised in the mornings," she muttered softly as she finally managed to pull her legs free from the entangling material and tossed the sheet back up onto the bed where it belonged. "And I… I was hoping that everything had been just a dream."
Dean arched an eyebrow as he looked at Taylor, who got to her feet and sat down on the edge of the bed she had occupied for the night, her expression downcast as she stared at the faded carpet that covered the floor and slowly ran her sock-clad feet over one of the 'floral' designs. After a few moments he let out a sigh as he ran a hand over his short hair before he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a gray cell phone.
"Here," he said as he tossed it to Taylor, who yelped as she barely caught the device before it hit the ground. "I stepped on that when I was going to get a shower earlier. Looks like it fell out of your pocket before you ran out of the room."
The woman stared down at her cell phone for a few seconds before she gave Dean a weak grin. "Oh… thanks."
"I found your phone and all I get is a 'thanks'?" the eldest Winchester asked as teasingly he flashed a smirk that had probably charmed God only knows how many women. "I feel severely underappreciated."
Taylor's weak grin widened faintly before she let out a low chuckle and shook her head, her fingers wrapping protectively around her phone as she did so. "You sound like my brother when you do that. It's kind of weird."
"That's probably because I'm an older brother too," he pointed out as he cocked an eyebrow slightly. "Now why don't you call your folks and let them know that you're okay."
This time the smile that the woman flashed him was broad as she gave him a thankful look before she flipped the phone open and started scrolling down her list of contacts. Taylor hesitated for a second, an odd feeling twisting in her gut as she stared down at the words 'Dad Cell', before she shrugged it off and pressed dial. Her phone rang the dial tone several times before it hung up automatically, causing her to spit out a furious curse as she pulled her cell away from her ear. The words 'no signal' flashed mockingly in the upper right-hand corner of the screen, and Taylor wrinkled her nose in obvious distaste as she glared daggers at the offending object.
"I'm not getting a signal," she finally growled, her hazel eyes narrowed as she mentally envisioned lighting her cell phone on fire. "Damn Verizon bastards. America's largest network my ass."
Dean had to bite back a snigger at that before he caught himself and scoffed inwardly. Dean Winchester didn't snigger. He shook his head as he made a noise that sounded somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. Much more manly.
"Use the phone in the room then," he said, pointing over at the off-white telephone resting on the bedside table in between the two beds. Taylor managed to give him a distracted smile and mouthed 'thank you' before she picked up the phone and started dialing, making sure that she put in the area code for her father's number. The phone rang twice before someone picked up.
"Dad?" Taylor asked immediately, a small smile of relief breaking across her features as she shifted slightly on the disheveled covers placed over the hotel bed. "It's me, Taylor. I just wanted to call and let you know that I'm okay."
There was a brief pause before an unfamiliar male voice spoke, and Taylor felt her heart plummet straight down to the floor as she tried not to let the cordless phone fall out of her suddenly damp hand.
"Excuse me? Is this some kind of prank? I don't know anyone by that name," the unfamiliar man stated bluntly, making very little effort to be polite. Taylor swallowed nervously, completely unaware that Dean was watching her intently.
"This is 513-492-3681, right?" she asked hesitantly, her face steadily losing any color that she may have had earlier.
"Yeah. It is. Why do you care?"
"That's my dad's cell phone number. Look, I really need to talk to him."
"Honey, there's no way that this is your old man's phone number. I've had the same number for fifteen years, and this is my house phone. I think someone's messing around with you, so why don't you be a good little brat and go bug someone else."
With that less than polite comment, the man hung up on her, leaving Taylor to pull the phone away from her ear and stare at it incredulously. How was this happening? There was no way that her dad had just decided to switch his phone number out of the blue, especially if she was missing.
"What in the hell is going on?" she whispered hoarsely as she stared down at the cordless phone before she quickly dialed Mikey's number, silently praying that her brother would pick up.
This time the phone didn't even ring before a recorded message played, a slightly metallic female voice reciting the words in a monotone voice.
"The number you have dialed is invalid. Please check the number you dialed and try again."
Taylor let out a strangled whimper as she hung up and stared wide-eyed at the phone, trying desperately to fight back the icy feeling of terror that was now seeping through her. She dialed her mother's number, only to have the same message play again. When she called her parents house, a perky woman who was definitely not her mother answered the phone, and Taylor quickly hung up after she brightly declared that it was the 'Brigson's residence'.
Dean was staring at her now, but Taylor didn't notice as she punched in the number for Hannah's cell phone almost desperately, her lips silently forming the words 'please pick up, please pick up, please God pick up'. When the mechanical voice politely told her that the number she had dialed was invalid, Taylor felt the blood rush from her head as the room phone slipped from her suddenly slick fingers and fell to the floor. She ignored Dean's sudden demand as to what was going on as she slowly pulled her legs up to her chest and folded her arms on top of her knees before she buried her head in the warm folds of her shirtsleeves and drew in a shuddering breath.
What was going on?
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Ah hah! The first official chapter is finished, and poor Taylor is freaked.
I'm so mean to my characters.
Anyways, I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and favorited for taking the time to check out this story, especially since it's an OC story and a good portion of those out there are complete and utter crap. So, thank you.
There's nothing much in the way of announcements, so on to the reviews.
Reviews:
MyDarkSideHasAWayOfHerOwn: It's a TV show that airs on CW, and it basically deals with two brothers going out and kicking the collective asses of things that go bump in the night. And yes, Ryan is a jerk. Not to mention the fact that he's also a snotty little rich boy jock… and a cultist. It's a scary mix, believe me.
januarysunshine13: I'm glad that you liked the beginning. No, Taylor isn't the kind of girl to be a damsel in distress, but she can get freaked out. And, as you probably saw, she does have a rather nasty fear of Rottweilers. She's only bitchy to people who really piss her off, so no worries for now. Dean and Sam are perfectly safe from her wrath.
TrueLoveAlways16: I did. Hope you like the chapter.
moonlightmusic: Wow, thanks. I'm glad that I was able to get you interested in my story. I know that there are a lot of really bad OC stories out there, which is why I always try to at least make one that's worth reading. Yes, Ryan is human (unfortunately), so no salt and burn or holy water for him. And things aren't going to be really explained for a while.
Starpossum: Thanks. I was really worried about keeping them in character… actually, I still am. And I'm glad that you like my story so far.
hyourin-kusabana: I'm glad that you like it.
Silvaria: Oh, way cool. So, how is this different from my other stories? I'm just curious. And I will work on my other stuff, once I'm not so frustrated with everything. I'm P. at 'A Twist In Fate' because my entire fifth chapter got deleted when I was almost done with it, so now I have to try and remember what I wrote in it, and I'm just exhausted with 'What One May Never See'. I'm not going to quit it, but I do need to take a bit of a break for a while so I can go over how I want it to end, because I never really thought about that before.
Anyways, thank you everyone for reviewing, and I'll see you the next chapter.
