Chapter Two :) Hope you enjoy and sorry if it was a little long time coming, hopefully will be faster next time!
No more than half an hour later, the Impala pulled into the car-park of the new motel. It was pretty average, a yellowing vine struggling its way up the walls of the rooms. Half the doors of the dozen or so rooms were painted a new,bright red, while the rest of them were a disappointing brown colour, the old, crusty paint peeling off at the hinges and around the rusty, iron room number. Clearly, someone was in the middle of renovating, making the whole place looking a little strange.
It wasn't too busy , as far as the hunters and Cas could tell. Apart from two kids sitting on the deck, exchanging trading cards, there was no one there. Barely any cars drove past either, despite there being a relatively large high street round the corner where sad looking antique shops and cafes lined the pavement. It was strangely quiet, but Sam thought nothing of it as he strode over to the reception to get the room. He had his hand stuck in his jean pockets, fiddling with loose change and the fake bank card, as he shoved the grubby green door open into the hut opposite. There was a retro neon sign over it, spelling out the words 'check-in', though most of the coloured glass poles were smashed and it didn't look like it lit up anymore.
Dean and Cas were left lingering by the car. After standing awkwardly for a minute or two, Dean decided to make some form of conversation with the angel.
"So..." Sam started before realising that there was little to talk about with someone like Cas, "How's... Heaven?"
Cas turned to face him, a look of confusion on both of their faces.
"It is as expected..." He replied blankly.
"Cool." Dean replied, desperately trying to look casual as he checked his watch and then stuffed his hands in his coat pocket. Then, clearing his throat, he turned to the boot of the car, lifting the lid and slinging his limp bag over his shoulder. Cas remained where he was, standing expressionless, as though he was turned off. Dean looked at him momentarily, noting his messy brown hair and the imperfect creases in his trench coat. The dark stubble dotted his chin as always, elegantly shaping and sharpening his cheek bones. Of all the potential vessels, even Dean had to admit, Cas had hit the Jackpot.
At the other end of the concrete car park, the reception door slammed, snapping Dean out of his trace. Sam walked towards the car, spinning the room keys around his finger. Dean looked down at the black surface of the boot, leaning on it with his arms out-stretched, the bag next to him. As Sam reached them, he chucked the keys to his brother and reached into the front seat for his back-pack.
"Room four..." Dean muttered, reading off the tag on the key. He looked round at the mismatched doors.
"It's over by the gas pump." Sam helped, pointing to the far end of the space to one of the red doors. From that distance, you could just about make out the polished number 4.
Locking the car, the three walked over to their new refuge, kicking the crispy fallen leaves on the concrete as they went. Once they were inside, Sam immediately set up his laptop, while Dean flopped on the bed.
"We'd better get to work on this case." Dean moaned, though he sounded tired, staring up at the grey ceiling.
"The goths..." Cas murmured, as he wandered through the door.
"We'll have a walk round, we'll see what's out of place then i guess." Sam suggested.
"Yeah," Dean agreed, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, "Bobby said whatever is going on is going on in a place called Phelps park. It's a few streets away from here, i checked when we left."
"Got it." Sam affirmed, standing up and walking over to the sink in the corner so he could wash his face. As he turned the taps, there was a unhealthy gurgling followed by the spluttering of the water pouring out. Tentatively, he held his hand under the stream of liquid, which sprayed onto the side of the porcelain bowl with a satisfying patter.
Dean rose and plodded over to the mock fireplace opposite the beds. It was large and made of an old reddish wood, peppered with chips and wood-worm holes. There was an old-fashioned carving on the front, with pheasants and grapes hammered into every panel. Ontop of it, along with dust an inch thick, where various stuffed animals on small platforms made to look like grass or sand. Dean poked at a terrified looking vole, standing on a muddy platform, one leg up. He shivered nervously, then turned the figure round so it faced the wall.
The wall paper could barely be called glamorous and was like something out of an over-the-top haunted house at a theme park. There were obvious lines where the panels had been pasted up wonky and where dirt and dusk had go stuck underneath. Poking aside a painting featuring some sort of bird perched on a blackberry bush, Dean also discovered a patch of brownish damp crawling up the wall.
"What a dump..." He remarked, turning to Sam who was wrestling with one of the taps. With an alarming crunch, the top came off in his hand and a light spray of water littered the tiled surface like a sprinkler.
Sam stared at the tap panicked, then bashed it to stop the water flowing.
"Yeah..." He agreed heavily.
"Head out?" Dean suggested, pointing towards the door.
"Yeah!"
They rushed out, Sam slamming the lid of his laptop closed as they went past the table. Dean leading the way, the three advanced out of the motel car park onto the street, heading towards Phelps park.
"So what is it we're looking for exactly?" Sam asked as the walked along the pavement.
"I dunno, man. Eyeliner, hairspray and heavy metal?"
"That is goth then i suppose..." Cas noticed, looking down.
Dean smirked. He stared down at his feet, making sure they were in time with Cas and Sam as they scuffed the paving stones.
"There's barely anyone out!" Sam exclaimed, scanning the area.
"You think that has something to do with it?" His brother replied.
"I dunno... maybe. If everyone has taken on this goth lifestyle, then i guess everyone's locked themselves away in their bedrooms. If that's what this is..."
"You're not convinced?!" Cried Dean, shocked.
Sam said nothing, though he didn't exactly look too sure that this 'goth case' was believable.
Eventually they passed the Phelps park street sign and looked up to see what was going on. The truth was... not much. From here, it was a normal street, long and wide with large white houses perched on either side of the road. Large maple trees lined the pavement, coating the space in shade and scattering the ground with orange leaves. The three stood there, exterminating for any potential pick-up points, but nothing was found.
Then, from a few doors down, they could hear a solemn chatter and the faint beat of a guitar. Walking up, they met three girls, who were sitting on the front step of one of the houses. They all had big, voluminous fringes, that covered half of their face and wore black and grey, looses shirts with black, ripped jeans. Their faces were pale and their eyes were outlined with a think layer of black. One of them even had black lips, making her pearly white teeth stand out, as if she was going to snap at you. Just visible through their helmet of hair, various studs covered their ears, colours like black, grey and dirty bronze.
One of the girls held a large, electric blue guitar on her lap. She had blonde hair, which curled all the way down to her hips and a long sleeved t-shirt with a pierced heart on the chest. She spoke first:
"Who are you?" She said expressionless, barely looking up as she fiddled with the strings on her guitar.
Sam and Dean exchanged looks, as Cas stared at the girls on the steps in total awe. One of the girls, with a dirty ginger fringe which faded into black, giggled at him.
"Erm..."Dean started ,awkwardly.
"So sad and yet so tragically beautiful..." Cas remarked, quietly and out of the blue, tilting his head at the girls of the step.
The two girls sitting behind the one with the guitar giggled quietly, while the girl in front smirked, moderately impressed.
"Aspiring ,huh?" She assumed, sliding the guitar of her lap and leaning on the step next to her. She got up and walked over to the three at the end of her front garden. "Harmony." She said, sticking out her hand for a handshake.
"Uh..." Dean said, unsure of what was happening.
Sam took Harmony's hand, "I'm Dr. Coulter and this is my colleague Inspector Kelt." He introduced, "Is there anyway we could see your parents?"
"Inspector?" Harmony echoed, a little taken aback.
"Yes...er." Dean replied, "Don't worry, standard procedure. Going round every house in the street after... complaints."
"Oh." She said, "Come on in then."
With that, she turned round and walked towards the front door of the house. Sam and Dean followed on their own. However, the other two girls had walked around behind them and escorted Cas up the steps, their arms linked in with his. The look on confusion on his face was remarkable, but he was simultaneously so awestruck by these people that he simply went along with it. The girls looked at each other, giggling, as they squeezed in through the door, slamming it behind them.
Ah... i had to put Destiel in this, but i think Cas has a few more people giving him an eye. Really love writing this fic, so please review and check out my other stories.
See you soon Xx