A pleasant yawn escapes my lips as I look up and find Sam's sunny face looming over me. I frown at him before I remember why he is there. I groan in despair as I realize there is no going back now. I sit up from the back seat of the Impala and watch as Sam smiles with a shake of his head. He pulls a tin from the dashboard compartment and starts scanning through its contents.
I look around. Dean must be inside the gas station convenience store behind me. He isn't in the driver's seat and Sam's door is open. I yawn again, still tired from the nap I had after leaving Stanford. Sam glances back at me with a fond smile. I just stare at him like he's grown three heads. "So this wasn't some nightmare, and we both suddenly picked up and left in order to find Dad?"
He chuckles. "Grace, why did you come? Really? And don't tell me it's because you had no choice and don't try and say that you love hunting, because we both know that you wanted to get away from it as much as I did." He gives me one of his 'I'm serious' looks.
I look at the doors of the station behind me, willing for Dean to come out. After a few seconds, I finally answer Sam. "Sam… I chose to go with Dean because you guys really are all I have left. You, Dean… Dad. I didn't want to believe him the night I left for Stanford. I didn't want to believe that he would ever hate me enough to tell me to stay gone. But if he really is in trouble… I have to do something. I can't sit around waiting for you and Dean to show back up."
My gaze travels over to the driver's side door. I suddenly wish that the car is blaring Metallica, anything other than the silence. "Nothing I ever do will ever mean anything if I don't have you guys to back it up. No one knows me like you do, Sam. Not even Dean. Not anymore. And hunting is something that we all share, even if it is something that we don't want to. I would have left on my own if I found out from Jess that you went with Dean." I look up and meet Sam's confused eyes.
He eventually just shakes his head and goes back to looking through the tin, knowing that I wasn't going to say anything more. "You shouldn't have to feel that way."
I sigh and go back to laying down in the back seat. Remind me not to let Sam have his chick flick moments. I'd never hear the end of it if Dean caught wind that I was having one of them now. "Well, I do." I close my eyes. Suddenly I hear Dean call out to us.
"Hey! You want breakfast?" I smile and shake my head. Sam does the same.
"No, thanks. So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and Dad still running credit card scams?" He flips through the tin and pulls out a card and examines it before putting it back.
"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a Pro-Ball career... Besides all we did was apply. It's not our fault they sent us the cards." Dean pulls the nozzle from the gas tank of the Impala and places it back into the pump.
Sam looks skeptical. "Yeah. And what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam shuts his door as Dean moves to the driver side of the car. I chuckle at the age old argument. It never failed for Sam to find something to argue about, whether it was the weather or the way we paid for the food.
"Burt Aframian." Dean climbs into the driver side door, setting his chips and soda down beside him. "And his son, Hector. Scored to cards out of the deal." He shuts his door. Sam smiles as he thinks about it. "That sounds about right."
Sam looks through the box of cassette tapes Dean keeps for the Impala, picking one up and quickly throwing it back into the box. He looks at Dean. I laugh. Here we go again. Sam and his music, I swear. Why doesn't he see the good in AC/DC and Metallica?
"I swear man, you have got to update your cassette tape collection."
I frown. "Why?"
"Well for one, they're cassette tapes. And two," He starts picking up tapes and putting them back, a tape for every name he names. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean snatches the Metallica tape before Sammy can put it back and puts it into the player. Sam laughs. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."
"Well… house rules Sammy. Driver picks the music. Shotgun shuts his cakehole." He throws the tape that was previously in the player back into the box. "Besides, Grace doesn't mind. Do you, Grace?"
I laugh at Sam's face from the backseat. "Sorry, Sammy. I have to agree with Dean on this one. We all know just how much I love Metallica."
Sam just rolls his eyes and looks at Dean. "You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old." Loud music fills the car, almost overpowering Sam's voice. "It's Sam, okay."
Dean laughs as the car lurches forward and we begin the drive to Jericho. "Sorry, I can't hear you. The music's too loud." He smiles back at me in the rearview as Sam shakes his head in the passenger seat. It's going to be a long trip.
We drive past an old rusty road sign that says we are seven miles out from Jericho. Sam's spent the last couple of hours getting on and off the phone, trying to see if he can get ahold of someone who's seen Dad. He currently has the phone pressed to his ear as I watch the landscape pass by. I blink as I hear the sound of Sam's phone shutting again. He looks back at me before glancing over to Dean.
"Alright, so there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue, so that's something. I guess." He doesn't say anything else, and Dean looks over at him for a moment, before returning his eyes to the road. The car goes silent except for the music blaring from the speakers. I frown as I see an old bridge ahead, filled with cops and cop cars. I glance at Dean. "Check it out." Sam and Dean both look up to see what is happening. Dean pulls the car over to the side.
The officers on the bridge watch as the car pulls to the side. Dean just reaches over and pulls a box out of the glove compartment. Inside are sets of ID cards. He takes one and hands one to me and Sam. To my surprise, the card was made for me. Dean grins. "Just in case, Gracie. Just in case." He steps out of the car. "Let's go."
As we walk over to the scene of the crime, one of the deputies looks over the railing. "You guys find anything?!" He yells to some of the men investigating underneath the bridge and in the river. The shake their heads and yell back up to him. "No! Nothing!"
The man on the bridge turns around and looks over to his partner, walking back to the car in the center of the bridge. He leans against the ajar door.
"No sign of struggle?"
" No footprints. No fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean."
I smile a small smile. Looks like we have stumbled upon the case Dad has been working for the last couple of weeks. These men have no idea what they are really working with, and the lack of evidence proves that whatever we are working with, it is going to be interesting. It appears to be a spirit of some sort. Maybe haunting this highway. A glance in the direction of the boys tells me that they don't know what we are dealing with yet either.
"So this kid, Troy, he's dating' your daughter, isn't he?" The deputy asks his partner as we approach. He hasn't noticed us yet as we stand off to the side.
"Yeah."
"How's Amy doing?"
The partner sighs. "She's putting up missing posters downtown."
Dean steps forward and looks at the two men. "You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't ya?" H glances over the car in the middle of the bridge as the officers turn and look at us, questions defined in their eyes.
"And who are you?" The tone is almost superior. I fight back the urge to scoff at the men. Just who did they think they were?
Dean has already thought of this occurrence and flashes his badge to the officer. "Federal Marshals." He looks over the car in front of us. He's looking for something more to go on for the case, something that could tell us what we are hunting.
"You three are a little young for marshals, aren't you?" The man steps forward and stares at us as he tries to decide whether or not to believe that we could ever be marshals. That superior tone has returned, now present in the look in his eyes. I glance at Dean, but it seems I'm not the only one holding back laughter. He laughs slightly at the man before us.
"Thanks. That's awfully kind of you." Dean turns away and starts walking towards the car that the officers have been examining. Sam and I follow. It's time to look at the evidence.
"You did have another one, just like this, correct?" Dean glances back to the officer behind us before looking back at the car.
"Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. And there have been others before that."
I look at the man. "So this victim… you knew him." It is more of a statement than a question. I watch the man as he nods with a small almost smile.
"Town like this? Everybody knows everybody." He nods again. We all turn and look at Dean as he walks around the car, already asking another question. He's got his hands behind his back, and he's trying to be serious.
"Any connection between the victims… besides that they're all men?" He looks over at us as we move even closer to the car.
"No. Not so far as we can tell." He looks at all of us.
Sam steps around the back of the car, looking it over himself. "So what's the theory?"
"Honestly? We don't know. Serial murder. Kidnapping ring?" He honestly doesn't know as he looks at me. I sigh.
Dean looks over at him. "That is exactly the kind of crack police work I would expect out of you guys." He smiles as he says it and I fight back another urge to laugh. Dean was ever the charmer, wasn't he? Sam makes a point to smile widely as he stomps on Dean's foot. The man frowns at all of us as he takes in the words. Sam walks forward, perhaps to leave the scene.
"Thank you for your time. Gentlemen" He walks away from the scene. I follow closely behind him, Dean behind me. I stare at Dean in almost awe as we walk, but I can tell that Sam is upset that Dean would say that to the officer, knowing that Dean could have blown our cover with a comment like that. In front of me, Sam shakes his head. I watch Dean step around me and thwap Sam in the back of the head.
"Ow!" Sam whispers back at us, glancing over his shoulder. I give him an apologetic grin. "What was that for?!" He glares at Dean. Dean just shoots back at him.
"Why'd you have to step on my foot?"
"Why do you have to talk to the police like that?"
I pause as I look over Sam's shoulder and notice the approach of three men. One looks to be the sheriff, and the others look to be FBI agents. "Guys!" I try to gain their attention to tell them, but they aren't listening to me. Aren't even paying attention to anything but themselves. Dean steps in front of Sam and causes us all to stop walking.
"Come on, they don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean if we are going to find Dad, we're going to have to get to the bottom of this ourselves." I roll my eyes, noticing the three men getting closer. These two can't stop arguing for anything. But I realize that Sam finally notices the sheriff as he looks over Dean's shoulder and clears his throat, nodding slightly in the direction of the men. I sigh. It sure took them long enough. Dean turns around and faces the approaching three men.
The one who looks like the sheriff speaks. "Can I help you kids?"
Dean looks briefly at the ground and away. "No sir... we were just leaving." He moves to the left as the agents walk by. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully." I keep a hidden smile as we walk around the sheriff. Dean had to have the snidest comments and recognizable names, didn't he? And what about me? I can feel more than see the sheriff's eyes as we walk back to the Impala.
I roll my eyes as I get into the car. Those boys are going to get us into trouble if they keep it up, and then who's going to be able to stop this monster from killing even more people? I make a point to cuff both of them on the back of the head. They need to learn to keep their arguing for when nobody's watching. They look back at me, confused.
"That's what you get for arguing with government officials around." I just laugh again as they give me a 'what the Hell?' look.
Dean finally sits back in his seat and hits the button for the player and an old AC/DC album fills the car. He pulls away and heads in the direction of town. Sam looks out the window. I lean back in my seat as I watch the boys, contemplating whether or not to ask if I can hit up the library for some research while they chase after Amy. It would make it easier if I had a little bit of research in before we stopped for the night.
"Hey, Dean. Do you think you and Sam can handle talking to Amy by yourselves? I want to start research over at the library and pick up anything that could possibly help us." I glance at the bookbag beside me. My laptop should be able to connect to the library wifi. Dean glances back at me.
"Are you sure that you can manage on your own until we get there? Wouldn't want something to happen to you while Sammy and I get to have all the fun." He shoots me a quick smile before looking back at the road. "Don't go getting too smart over there."
I laugh. "Dean, I'll be fine. Nothing is going to happen to me in a library." I roll my eyes as Sammy shakes his head with a small smile. He knows I'll be safe in a library. I'm always in the library over at Stanford. Well, that one or one of the local libraries. "Besides, if I find anything useful, or get into trouble…" I scoff at the mere thought of it, "I'll call you."
Dean nods. "Yeah. You do that."
The library in the town is small, but big enough to hold a good array of books and a few desktop computers, along with about twenty people. Not that anyone is there really but the receptionist right now. I look over at one of the empty tables near the left hand side of the room. I pick a seat where I can see all the entrances and exits of the library. Reaching into my black bag I pull out my laptop, open it and log in.
Pulling up the browser, I look for archives of old newspapers. Maybe one of them will have a clue as to what we may be hunting. The first archive to appear is The Jericho Herald. I click the link, hoping that it may be useful. The banner at the top of the page showed an eagle holding a shield and a banner, its wings spread as if it was falling from the sky. The page title read Jericho Herald.
I look around the library, hearing the door open. It's just an elderly woman with a stack of books talking to the receptionist at the desk. I sigh and look back down at the screen. From what we had earlier. Whatever had caused this started about twenty years ago… so I should search for deaths on the Centennial highway around 1985. I click on the search bar, entering the phrase 'Death Centennial highway' and click the search button.
It gives me a list of all the newpaper articles Dean had shown us the night before. Obviously this isn't what I'm looking for, but I go through them anyway, looking for something I could have missed. They just tell me the same thing we learned from the police this morning. With a sigh I click the search bar again, but this time I hear the door open once more. Ignoring the sound, I type the phrase. 'Murder Centennial highway'. This time I don't get any results.
I flinch when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. "Find anything, Grace?" I smile as I lean back and look up at Dean. He's giving me one of my favorite smiles. You know, one of his true smiles. The ones he usually saves for Sammy. Sam is standing behind him. I shake my head a negative.
"Nothing useful. The only deaths I found were the same ones we saw earlier. Did you get anything useful from Amy?" I look over at Sam.
"Yeah. Her friend said that there was Urban legend. A woman was murdered out on Centennial highway an-" I stopped him before he could continue.
"No… There was no murders on the Centennial highway. I already searched. But if you think it could be a spirit, angry spirits are born out of violent deaths, right? So what if it wasn't a murder?" I click the search box again and type a new phrase into it. Sam and Dean are watching over my shoulder. 'Female Suicide Centennial highway' I click the search button. 1 result comes up. 'Suicide on Centennial' Underneath are the words: A local woman's drowning death…
As I click on the link, an article comes up. I read the page to the men behind me. "April 25, 1981. Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge. Drowns in the river." Sam looks at the picture of the woman on the screen. "Say why she did it?"
"Yeah." I frown as I read the words on the screen. If what the story says has a chance at being false, I think we may be dealing with a woman in white. But I can't tell the others that until I have proof of it being more than just another angry spirit. I look over to Dean.
"What?" He questions as I look back at the screen.
"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back… they aren't breathing. Both die." I frown. I never understood how someone could kill their own children. I scrolled down through the article. "One Joseph Welch, her husband, said that 'our babies were gone, and Constance, she just couldn't bare it.'" I stared at the image of the bridge a few lines above and to the right.
Sam notices the bridge, too. "That bridge look familiar to you?" I look back at the brothers to see them already forming a plan. I close the page and place my laptop back into my bag as the boys start talking about going to the bridge tonight.
The sky road is only dimly lit as we reach the Sylvania Bridge. Dean stops the Impala at the edge of the bridge. We all climb out of the car. Dean and Sam lead the pack as we walk out into the center of the bridge. We find ourselves peering over the rapid river currents. The wind is a soft caress compared to the chill coming off of the water. I shiver slightly in the cold.
Dean stares at the water. "So this is where Constance took the swan dive." He watches the water for a moment before Sam speaks.
"So you think Dad would have been here?" He grips the railing and looks at the water below. I step back and stand more to the middle of the bridge. I have a fear of heights I simply couldn't ever get over. I let the boys talk for a moment and just listen.
Dean frowns and steps back from the edge. "Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him… so." He turns and looks at me before walking and thinking, a prominent habit with him. He always seems to do it when he is trying to figure out what to say, and what exactly is happening.
"Okay, so now what?" I ask following Dean as he walks. He sticks his hands in his pockets. I follow suit as another chills rolls across my body. I can tell Sam wants the same answers that I do.
"Now we keep digging till we find him. Might take a while." He brings his arms to his sides in emphasis. Sam and I stop in our tracks. We had to be back by Monday. What was Dean thinking? Did he think we could just drop everything? That we could just go back to hunting and looking for Dad? I cringe. What if he did? What if that's what he expects…
Sam beats me to the words. "Dean… We've told you, We have got to be back by-" They both chorus "Monday."
Dean turns to look at me and Sam. "Right. The interview. Your test."
"Yeah."
"I forgot." I stare wide eyed at Dean. I can't believe he forgot. He must be immensely worried about Dad. And probably about watching over us while we look for him. "You guys are really serious about this, aren't you? Sammy, you think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"
"Maybe… Why not?" Sammy asks. Dean ignores him and looks at me. "And you really think you can just keep on publishing those books? Some hunter out there is going to resent you for telling the world the secret trades of people whose lives you just unleashed? Don't you think that maybe that could be dangerous to your health if the the things we hunt got a hand on one of those books and discovered just who you were?"
He scoffs and looks back at Sammy as I repeat his question. "Does Jessica know the truth about you? Either of you? Does she know about the things you've done?" Sam steps forward. "No. And she's not ever going to." I shake my head. I don't know why Sammy wants to deny that he ever lived a hunter's life.
Dean just nods. "Well that's healthy." The sarcasm leaks out of his words. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later, you have to face up to who you are. Same to you, Grace." Dean smiles and tries to walk away but we pursue him. Sammy is behind me as I question Dean now.
"Who is that?"
"You guys are one of us."
Sammy steps around both Dean and I. "No! I'm not like you! Grace is not like you! This is not going to be our lives!"
Dean stops. "Well, you have a responsibility…"
I raise an eyebrow. "To Dad? And his crusade?" Sammy steps in and stares at Dean.
"If it weren't for pictures… I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like." I remember Mom. I do. I remember her like I remember my own mother. She was beautiful. She loved me as if I was her own. Like I had always been there, her own daughter. I want to cry because Sammy can't remember her. She was young. And Sammy… He wasn't even a year old. He continues on. "What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her… Mom's gone and she isn't coming back."
I see what is going to happen a second before it happens and I stop it. I am not going to let Dean do that. Not to Sammy. Not in a moment of anger. I grab Dean's shoulder and grip it tightly, pulling him closer to me. The anger he was going to turn on Sammy he turns on me.
He pushes me back towards the railing behind him and pins me to bridge by the collar of my jacket. I give a small smile to a surprised Sammy just before Dean speaks. "So you're just going to let him talk about her like that? You remember her… You were there!" He stares angrily at me before shaking his head and releasing me. He turns and looks at Sammy. He walks away from us. I try to catch my breath as Sammy stares at me. I smile again and he runs a hand over his mouth. Dean stops, staring at something I can't see yet. "Grace." He calls. Both Sam and I turn to look and see what he's staring at. I frown as I watch what appears to be a woman in a white dress… standing on the railing of the bridge. She looks like the picture of Constance we pulled from the archives earlier.
I walk over to Dean, Sam right behind me. We watch as the woman looks forlornly at us and steps off the rails into the river below. I look at Sam as we race across the bridge to see where she went, and if there was a chance we could help her. We hit the railing and search the river.
"Where'd she go?" Dean's eyes search frantically
"I don't know." Sam's voice is almost confused.
The distinct sound of the Impala starting distracts me from the search for the woman. I look over to see the headlights flash on and light the bridge up. Sam and Dean turn to look at the car as my eyes widen. "What the…" I can hear Dean call out behind me.
"Who's driving your car?" I whisper back to the boys. I glance back at Dean to see him pull the keys from his pocket and dangle them between us. So if he has the keys… "Who's in the car?"
Suddenly the squeal of tires on concrete scream out as the Impala charges forward. Towards us. I stare at it. This should not be happening. A tug on the sleeve of my jacket jerks me backwards as Sam turns and runs in the opposite direction, Dean beside us. We run as fast as we can but after a few seconds, it becomes obvious that we can't outrun the car behind us. Sam pulls me over to the side of the bridge, and Dean follows. We jump.
As I fall, I can see Sammy latch onto one of the support beams of the bridge. Too late, I realize that I should have done the same as I hit the cold water. The sudden shock overtakes me for a moment before I remember to get to the surface for air. I breach the surface and pull myself onto the bank, covered in mud and soaked in river water. I gasp for breath as I watch Sammy pull himself back onto the bridge.
Sam looks back at the water, searching for Dean and I. "Dean! Grace!" As he calls out I can feel Dean pull himself onto the bank beside me, also covered in mud. I sigh in relief as both of the boys are safe. "Hey! Are you alright?" Dean hold up a hand and looks up at him.
"I'm super."
Sam laughs a hysterical yet small laugh and pulls himself the rest of the way onto the bridge. I watch him for a moment before Dean drags himself up into a standing position. He offers me a hand I gratefully take. We make our way up the bank and back onto the bridge. I try to brush some of the excess mud off of me, but it's caked on pretty well. Dean immediately races over to check on his baby, pulling open the hood to make sure his engine wasn't damaged.
I sigh as I go and stand next to Sam, shivering in the chilly air. The dive into the river surely didn't help. Dean checks over the engine as Sammy and I talk. "You know, Grace, you could have let Dean get me instead. You didn't have to step in. I could have handled it."
I smile at him. "Nah, Sammy. That's what I'm here for. To make sure the two of you stay out of trouble. Besides, Deanie over there knows it two. You guys are like my brothers. I'd do anything for you." Dean slams the hood of the Impala back down, signalling the end of our conversation. He probably didn't hear any of it.
I look at Dean. "Your car alright?"
"Yeah, whatever she did to it… It seems alright now." He looks over the bridge with a hint of humorous anger. "That Constance chick. What a Bitch! "
Dean leans against the Impala's hood as I stand next to Sammy. Sam just looks over the bridge. "Well, she doesn't want us digging around. That's for sure." Dean breathes out a frustrated sigh as Sammy sits on the hood next to him. I lean against the side of the hood and look over at Dean. I'll just let Sammy do the talking for now. "So where's the trail go from here, genius?" Sammy's sarcasm makes me laugh but Dean throws his hands up in the air before frowning and flinging away some of the mud caked on his sleeves. Sam looks over at Dean and glances at me. "You two smell like a toilet." I hang my head as Dean growls in frustration and gets into the car. Sammy and I follow suit.
"One room, please." Dean throws a credit card in front of the clerk working the office in the motel. The clerk picks up the card and stares at it, studying it before looking back at us three.
"You guys having a reunion or something?" He pauses. As the silence continues, he proceeds with his questions. "Another guy, a Burt Aframian, checked out a room for the whole month." We look at each other. Dad must have been here. Dean asks for the room number and we make our way over to the room. Sam picks the lock as Dean and I stand guard. As soon as the door opens, we all quickly file in.
Along the walls there is one of Dad's set-ups. Files and stories about the hunt we're currently on. Pictures cover most of the bare space and a set of colored string marks his discoveries. A half eaten burger rests on a nightstand as Dean leans over and turns on the lamp. I try not to disturb the slat lines on the floor as Sammy investigates the bulletin board.
Dean sniffs the sandwich and flinches away. "I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least." He throws the burger back where he found it and glances over at Sam. I pick up a few of the grains of salt, making sure that was what it was. "Salt, Cat's eye shells, he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in."
Dean nods and walks over to one of the walls in particular, studying its contents. Sm walks over with me behind him. I walk around Sam to stand next to Dean. Along the wall is pictures and stories of the victims on Centennial highway. "What have you got here?"
"Centennial highway victims." He looks at the pictures again. "I don't get it. They're different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities… There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?" He glances back at me. Sam is over looking at another wall.
I watch Dean. I know what these men must have had in common. Constance had proved me right when we watched her jump off the bridge. She was a woman in white. So I just wait for Sammy to tell him, or for the two of them to figure it out. I hear the click of another lamp turning on and look over to Sam. "Dad figured it out." He says, looking over his shoulder. Dean glances over at Sam. "What do you mean?"
"He found the same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white." Dean looks over the list of victims along the wall with a half smile.
"You sly dogs." I hold back a laugh. It would be just like Dean to say something like that about men who were unfaithful to women. I don't think he's been with any girl for very long at all.
He suddenly gets serious though and turns back to look and me and Sam. "Alright, so if we're dealing with a woman in white… Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it." I look at Sam only to find him staring at some of the clippings posted to the walls. "She might have another weakness."
Dean walks over and looks. "Well, Dad would want to make sure. He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?"
I look over the clippings myself. Sam looks at the two of us. "No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though…" He points at a picture of Joseph Welch. "I'd go ask her husband. If he's still alive."
I look towards the bathroom. "Alright, well, why don't you two try to find an address and I'm gonna go get cleaned up!" I walk in the direction in the bathroom and hear Dean mumbling about girls. I just laugh as I shut the door behind me and begin running the water. While it heats up I grab one of the extra sets of clothes I brought along just in case something like this happened. I sigh as I realize I'm going to have to clean these clothes later. I pulls the clothes off and set them where I can grab them on the floor. I set the fresh clothes on the toilet lid beside the shower.
The water feels warm and thick as I scrub the mud from my skin. It feels disgusting, but I am all the better for it. Scrubbing some soap I brought into my hair I try to get as much of the mud out as humanly possible. I step out of the shower feeling refreshed and ready to face the rest of the day. I get dressed quickly so that Dean can get cleaned up. Pulling on my shoes I step back into the room and look at Dean. "Your turn, pretty boy." I smirk and he just grumbles again and shuts the door to the bathroom behind him.
I look over at Sam and he just shakes his head, pulling out his phone to check his voicemail messages. From where I am I can hear the sound of Jessica's voice playing from the speakers. I don't understand what she's saying, but I'm sure it makes Sam feel better just to hear her voice at all. Sammy is going through a third one when Dean steps out of the bathroom pulling on his jacket.
"I'm starving. I'm going to grab myself a little something to eat at that dine down the street. Grace, you wanna come along?" I nod my head and stand up. Dean looks over to Sam. "You want anything?"
"No."
Dean smiles. "Aframian's buying,"
Sam just shakes his head. Dean shrugs at me with a 'what can you' do look."
Dean pulls open the door and allows me out of the room first. I take a few steps before I pause. A cop car is sitting out front talking to the motel manager. They look over to us as the man points at me and Dean, I frown at Dean before remembering that Sam was still inside. I quickly turn away and grab my phone, dialing Sammy's number. He picked up by the second ring.
"What?"
"Sam, 5-0, take off."
"What about you guys?" I glance back to see the officers waking closer.
"They kinda spotted us." I hang up the phone and shove it into my pocket.
Dean turns and faces the officers. I watch as he puts on one of his trouble making smirks. "Problem officers?"
The deputy from back at the bridge looks between us. "Where's your partner?"
Dean plays the confused bystander. "Partner? What Partner?" I just shrug as if I had no clue what the officers were talking about.
The two deputies look at each other and split up. One goes in the direction of our room, and the other tries to intimidate Dean and I. "Fake U.S. Marshals, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" I actually laugh at the men as he says this. He doesn't know what he is dealing with, but I'd still rather not end up the the back of his car. Dean just smiles.
"My boobs." The officer doesn't take very well to Dean's answer. He pushes him against the hood of the nearest car and cuffs him. His partner returns and does the same to me.
"You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." I glare at Dean and he gives me an apologetic smile as I find myself shoved into the back of the police car alongside Dean. This day just couldn't get better, could it?