CHAPTER ONE~PILOT
STANFORD COLLEGE
"Dean, you know we could just call him, or friggin' knock, right?" Shaun asked as she was set on a table. Dean crawled through the window, picking her up again. "This is more fun." Dean replied, grinning. They snuck through the house- well, if you could call walking casually through the house sneaking- until Dean was suddenly tackled.
In the fighting, Dean managed to put Shaun on the table. Dean finally managed to pin the man to the ground. "Whoa, easy tiger!" Dean said, grinning at the man beneath him. "Dean? You scared the crap outta me!"
"That's 'cause you're out of practice." The man flipped Dean over. "Or not. Get off me." They pulled each other up. "What are you doing here?" The man asked. "Well, I was hoping for a beer." The lights flipped on. "Sam?" The man, Sam, turned. "Jess, hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica." Shaun quickly ducked behind a vase as Jessica glanced in her general direction. "What was.. Nevermind. Wait. Your brother Dean?"
"I love the Smurfs." Jessica glanced down at her pajamas, which consisted of a cropped Smurfs t-shirt and girl's boxer-briefs. "You know, I gotta say, you are completely out of my brother's league…" Dean commented, looking her up and down. Shaun snorted, quickly covering her mouth quickly. Jess glanced in her direction again, narrowing her eyes questioningly at the vase. She turned back to Dean. "Just, let me go put something on…"
"No, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously. Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here for a minute, talk about some private family business, but it was nice meeting you." Dean said, walking back toward Sam. "No. No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her." Sam argued, walking toward Jess and wrapping an arm around her.
"Okay, um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days." Dean told him. "So he's working overtime on a "miller time" shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later." Sam replied. "Dad's on a hunting trip, and he hasn't been home in a few days."
The look in Sam's eyes changed. "Jess, excuse us." While Jess was distracted, Dean managed to grab Shaun and follow Sam out the door.
"I mean, come on, you can't just break in in the middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you." Sam argued as he and Dean walked down the stairs. "You're not hearin' me Sammy, Dad's missing, and I need you to help me and Shaun find him." Dean replied. "Remember the Poltergeist, in Amherst, or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then too. He's always missing and he's always fine."
"Not for this long. Now, are you coming with us or not?" Dean retorted. "I'm not." Sam said. "Why not?" Shaun asked. "Because I swore I was done hunting, for good." He replied. "Come on, it wasn't that easy, but it wasn't that bad."
"When I told Dad I was afraid of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45."
"What was he supposed to do?" Shaun asked, exasperated. "I was nine years old, he was supposed to say, "Don't be afraid of the dark"." Sam replied. "'Don't be afraid of the dark'? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark, you know what's out there!" Dean said. "I know, but still, the way we were raised, after Mom died, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her, and we still haven't found the damn thing, so we kill everything we can find."
"Save a lot of people doing it, too." Sam scoffed. "Do you think Mom would've wanted this for us?" Dean shoved through the door angrily, Shaun clinging to his fingers to stay balanced. "All the weapon training, the melting silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors, and Shaun too." Dean turned toward him. "So, what, are you just gonna go live some normal, apple-pie life?"
"Not normal, safe."
"And that's why you ran away." Shaun commented. "I just went to college, it was Dad who said if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing." Sam responded. "Dad is in real trouble right now, if he's not dead already. I can feel it. I can't do this alone." Shaun coughed. "Well, I can't do this alone with Shaun."
"Yes you can." Sam retorted. "Yeah, but we don't want to." Shaun added. Sam sighed, "What was he hunting?"
They went to the car, popping the trunk. "Let's see where the hell did I put that thing… Shaun, where did I put it?" Dean mumbled. Shaun shrugged. "So, when Dad left, why didn't you guys go with him?" Sam asked. "We were working our own gig, a voodoo thing down in Orleans." Shaun replied. "Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?"
"We're 26, dude." Dean replied. He pulled out a piece of paper. "Alright, here we go. So, Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy disappeared. They found his car, but he was vanished. Completely M.I.A." Dean explained, showing Sam the article.
"So maybe he was kidnapped." Sam reasoned, scanning the article. "Yeah, well, here's another one in April, and another one in December, '04, '03, '98, and '92, 10 of 'em over the past 20 years, all men, all on the same 5-mile stretch of road." Dean added, producing a tape recorder. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was three weeks ago. We hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough, and then I got this voicemail…" Dean said as Shaun pushed the 'play' button.
"Dean, Shaun… something big is starting to happen… I think it's serious… I need to try and figure out what's going on… be very careful guys. We're all in danger." John Winchester's voice sounded through the recorder. "You know, there's EVP on that." Sam pointed out. "Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like ridin' a bike, isn't it? Alright, I had Shaun slow the message down, run it through a GoldWave, and take out the hiss, and this is what she got.." Shaun pressed the play button after doing the steps.
"I can never go home…"
"Never go home…" Sam repeated. Dean lifted Shaun off the trunk and shut it, walking around and sitting on the hood of the car, Shaun perched on his shoulder. "You know in almost two years, I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing." Sam sighed, "Alright, I'll go. I'll help you guys find him, but I have to be back first thing Monday. Just wait here."
"What's first thing Monday?" Dean asked. "I have an interview." Sam replied. "What, a job interview? Skip it." Shaun elbowed his neck. "It's a law-school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."
"Law school?"
"So, we got a deal, or not?"
When Sam came back outside, the trio piled into the Impala, Shaun sitting comfortably on Dean's lap, a hand draped over her. Sam glanced between the two, seeing a light blush on Shaun's face.
They pulled into a gas-station, and Sam opened his door, sitting with his legs outside of the car. Dean placed Shaun in his lower jacket pocket, leaving a hand in the pocket with her, and headed inside of the store. He emerged with a pack of Mentos in his mouth, two bags of chips, and two sodas. "Hey, you want breakfast?" He asked through the Mentos.
"No thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff anyway? You and Dad still running credit card scams?" Sam asked. "Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career." Dean replied. "Besides, we just apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards." Shaun added as she was lifted out of the pocket. "Yeah? So, what names did you write on the application this time?" Dean walked around to the driver's side door and climbed into the Impala, and Sam pulled his legs back in.
"Uh, Bert Aframian and his son, Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal." Dean said. "Sounds about right." Sam dug through a box of cassettes. "I swear man, you have got to update your cassette tape collection." Shaun, who was drinking her now shrunken soda, choked a bit. "Why?!" Her and Dean asked, alarmed, and quite offended. "Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean snatched away the tape. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."
"House rules, Sammy; driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his piehole." Dean retorted. "One; Sammy is a chubby 12-year-old. It's Sam, okay? Two; what about dashboard or your lap? What do they get to do about the music?" Sam said, looking pointedly at Shaun, who sat on the dashboard, holding onto the edge and tapping her fingers to the beat of the song. "Well, dashboard over here has good music taste, so, on occasion, she picks. But, she also cannot complain. And what was that first part? I didn't catch it."
"I said, it's Sam, not Sammy."
"Sorry, can't hear you, the music's too loud!"
"So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something I guess." Sam pointed out as they passed a sign that read 'Jericho 7'. Shaun spotted police cars, and carefully crawled toward the window. "Hey, check it out.." They pulled up to the bridge. Dean reached over and opened the glove compartment, taking out a rectangular brown box. Opening the lid, he sifted through the contents; fake ID cards mostly. Finding the ones he wanted, he picked up Shaun, deposited her gently in his breast pocket, and tossed Sam a badge, exiting the car.
Up ahead, a deputy called down off the bridge to two other cops. "Did you guys find anything?" He yelled. "No, nothing!" The deputy walked off to a car, where another officer was searching around. "No footprints, no sign of struggle, nothing. It's clean. Almost too clean." The officer reported.
"So, this kid, Troy; he's dating your daughter isn't he?"
"Yeah."
"How's Amy doin'?"
"She's putting up missing posters downtown." Dean and Sam walked up to the two cops. "You fellas had another one just like this about a month ago didn't you?" Dean asked. "And who are you?" Dean pulled out his badge, showing it to the cop quickly, and then putting it back in his back pocket. "Federal Marshals."
The cop looked them up and down. "You two are a little young to be Marshals, don't you think?" Dean chuckled, "Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this, correct?" The deputy nodded. "Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There have been others before that."
"So, this victim; you knew him?" Sam asked. "A town like this, everybody knows everybody." The deputy replied. "Any connections between the victims, besides that they're all men?" Dean called from around the car. "No, not as far as we can tell."
"Got anything?" Dean asked, peeking into his pocket. Inside, Shaun was curled up, typing away at her laptop. "No. So far, I've got zilch." She replied, running a hand through her hair. "So, what's the theory?" Sam asked. "Honestly, we don't know. Serial murdering, kidnapping ring."
"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean commented. Sam stomped on his foot, and Shaun was holding back laughter, gently punching his chest. "Thank you for your time. Gentlemen." Sam said, him and Dean walking away.
When Dean was sure that the cops weren't still watching them, he slapped Sam on the back of the head, taking Shaun out of his pocket. "Ow! What was that for?"
"Why do you have to step on my foot?"
"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"
"Come on, they don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're gonna find Dad, we're gonna have to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves." Someone cleared their throat behind them. Dean felt Shaun move on his hand and when he glanced down, she was gone. Knowing she was hidden, feeling her climb into the inner pocket of his jacket, he turned around.
"Can I help you boys?"
"No sir, we were just leaving. Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." Dean said, walking past the cop and two FBI agents.
Sam and Dean walked down the sidewalk, Shaun resuming her research in Dean's breast pocket. They spotted a girl putting up posters. "I'll bet you that's her." Dean pointed out. "Yeah." They approached the girl. "You must be Amy."
"Yeah." Amy replied. "Troy told us about you. We're his uncles; I'm Dean, and this is Sammy." Sam shot him a look. "He never mentioned you to me." Dean chuckled. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."
"We're looking for him too, so, we're kinda asking around." Another girl walked up to Amy. "Hey, you okay?" Amy nodded. "Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?"
"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me back, but he- he never did." Amy told the boys. Amy, Dean, Sam, and Amy's friend sat at a booth in the corner of an old diner. "And he didn't say anything strange or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked. "No, not that I can remember."
"Here's the deal ladies, the way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything…" Amy and her friend shared a look. "What is it?"
"Well...with all these guys going missing, people talk." Amy's friend replied. "What do they talk about?" Dean and Sam asked in unison. "It's kinda this local legend. This one girl got murdered, out on Centennial, like, decades ago." Dean and Sam shared a look, Dean 'accidentally' nudging his pocket, signaling Shaun to look that up. "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up…well, they disappear forever."
Finding a computer in the corner of the library, where nobody could see them, Dean pulled Shaun out of his pocket and set her on the table. He and Sam sat down. "Okay, so, I was looking it up, and I couldn't find anything." She used a pencil that was laying around to type in 'Female Murder Hitchhiking' in the computer. Nothing came up. Dean tried 'Female Murder Centennial Highway'. Nothing. "Let me try-" Sam reached over to the keyboard, avoiding Shaun, but Dean pushed his arms away. "I got it!"
Sam pushed Dean's chair out of the way, moving his own in front of the computer. "Dude! You're such a control freak." Dean mumbled. Shaun laughed quietly.
"So, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right?"
"Yeah."
"So what if it's not murder?" Sam typed 'Female Suicide Centennial Highway', and clicked on the one result. "This was 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania bridge, drowns in river." Shaun read. "Does it say why she did it?" Dean asked. "Yeah…" Sam said, also reading. "What?"
"An hour before they found her, she calls 911; her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for one minute, she comes back…they aren't breathing…both die." Shaun replies. "Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it, said husband, Joseph Welch." Sam read.
"That bridge look familiar to you?"