Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. I do not own any of the characters, barring any OCs, in this story.
Author's Note: For those of you who didn't know, Ada, Oklahoma is where I spent the first seven years of my life, and it's still very dear to my heart. With the exception of any OCs' homes that might be mentioned, every place Dean and Sam visit in this story is really there.
The drive down to Ada took just over twelve hours even with four gas-station stops, largely thanks to Dean's lead-footed driving. He stayed at the wheel the entire time, leaving Sam to read an enormous novel he had picked up somewhere – probably at Bobby's – in the passenger seat while Castiel stared out the window in the back. The angel seemed to enjoy watching the scenery pass by, and Sam assumed it was because whenever he usually flew himself somewhere, it was almost instantaneous and never left room for sightseeing. Watching things move so slowly (by Castiel's standards, at least, because Dean was going nearly ninety miles per hour when the speed limit was seventy) probably would be fairly fascinating to someone who hadn't been on the road for their entire life.
As usual, the cassette player blared classic rock the whole way, leaving little room for talking over the noise of the radio speakers. That may have been a good thing, though; no one was really sure what to say to each other lately, especially Dean and Sam. No matter how they might start a conversation, it would inevitably dissolve into a discussion about the Apocalypse and the Four Horsemen, which naturally led to Sam retreating inward to stew over his still-fresh feelings of guilt for being led astray by Famine. Cas and Dean could do nothing to change his feelings on the subject, either, and they had given up trying in favor of avoiding the topic entirely. As Dean had recently told the angel when they were alone, "Sam'll pull his head out of his ass when he's good and ready, and not a second before. It's annoying, but it's a Winchester thing." Castiel hadn't been able to think of a retort for that.
At a little after six p.m., the Impala rumbled into town, its polished black exterior glistening brightly in the evening sun as it sped by a tiny car dealership and a run-down hotel called The Budget Inn. A little farther up Broadway Avenue was another motel called The Economy Inn, which Dean pulled the car up next to immediately once he noticed that there was a diner directly beside it. It took only about a minute and a half to get a room – apparently business was slow this time of year – and then he parked the Impala right outside the door and everyone got out to grab their bags.
"So, you guys hungry?" Dean asked hopefully, grimacing when his stomach growled loudly enough for both Sam and Castiel to hear. The restaurant next door, JD's Café and Cafeteria, had a sign out front promoting their burgers and pie, and Dean really wanted to go see if they were worth advertising.
"I could eat, yeah," Sam said as he hoisted his duffel over his shoulder. "Maybe we can do some research while we're there, too." Castiel nodded in agreement, and Dean grinned broadly at the prospect of the delicious pies awaiting less than a hundred yards away.
"Awesome."
JD's wasn't the poshest place they'd ever eaten at, but it certainly wasn't the worst. The décor seemed to be based on the design of a lot of seventies cafeterias, with pieces of wooden lattice dividing the tops of the booths and dark wooden planks adorning all of the walls. The cushions of the chairs and booth seats were a dark maroon color, as were the curtains on the few narrow windows that faced the street outside. The occasional artificial plant could be seen on the shelves, as well as several empty coffee pots, but there wasn't much by way of decoration otherwise. There were a few spots where water had damaged the plaster ceiling tiles, turning them an ugly, cracked brown in several circular areas, but the tables and dishes looked clean and the wait staff were all friendly. Much to Dean's relief, the food looked good too.
"So," Sam asked as he opened his laptop on the table. "All we know so far is that seven people have killed themselves in town in the past fifteen days, and all of them have been men. That doesn't really give us much to go on, but let's narrow it down a little."
"There are several things that can manipulate humans in order to kill them," Castiel said thoughtfully. "Sirens, banshees, and crocottas all use their voices to lure people to their deaths."
"Yeah, but crocottas just suck out their souls. They don't make people hang themselves," said Dean, mentally striking that particular creature off of his list. "What about… Nah, djinn would've kept their victims alive longer, and there would've been puncture wounds…"
"It could also have been a demon or a vengeful spirit," Sam mumbled as he continued to type things into his computer.
"Alright, well I say right now there's too much we still don't know," Dean said, slapping his palms down on the table in frustration. "We'll go talk to that Ross guy as soon as we get done eating, but until then I don't think there's much else we can do."
"I guess not," Sam agreed, closing his computer and watching with mild disgust as Dean picked up the cheeseburger he had ordered and took an enormous, jaw-stretching bite.
"Oh, man…" he said happily through a mouthful of meat and cheese. "Sammy, you gotta try this."
"No thanks," Sam said with an amused smile, taking a bite of the salad he had gotten from the salad bar. The younger Winchester had been pleasantly surprised to notice that the lettuce and vegetables in his and Castiel's salads were crisp and fresh, unlike what was usually served at the restaurants they frequented. "I'd like to keep my arteries open past the age of forty, thanks."
"Pshh. Whatever. If I die from eating burgers, at least I'll die happy. You'll have nothing to look back on but vegetables, Mr. Jolly Green Giant."
Sam just smiled and rolled his eyes.
"There's nothing wrong with salads, you know," a female voice said from behind them. She had a bit of a Southern drawl to her words, but it was barely noticeable unless one really listened for it. "I'd say we have pretty good ones here, after all."
Dean spun around, prepared to ask why some stranger was butting into their conversation, when he realized it was only their waitress bringing them the pie and coffee they had all ordered for dessert. It must have been his lucky day because she was a looker, too. She had curly chocolate-colored hair tied back in a loose ponytail, pouty pink lips, a tiny nose, and deep brown eyes, as well as a tiny waist and full hips and chest. All of that, combined with the fact that she was holding several plates of pie, made Dean take interest in her immediately.
"Well, I'm a burger kinda guy," he answered with a shrug, watching hungrily as she set the plates down on the table. "Especially this one. I may have to get another one just 'cause I love it so much."
"I can get you one to go if you want," the woman said. According to the metallic pin on her shirt, her name was Valerie. "I wouldn't want you to run out of room for this pie."
Dean gave her his best smile, softening his eyes in a way that always had women eating out of the palm of his hand. "Sweetheart, there's always room for pie." He took a bite of the cherry-filled pastry in front of him, closing his eyes and moaning in a way that probably should have been outlawed in public. "Oh, God, that's good. I knew this was the right place to eat."
Valerie blushed a little, fiddling with the hem of her shirt before looking over her shoulder as if checking for someone. "Um…" she said, after a minute. "I'm really not supposed to do this, Mr…"
"Dean," he answered. "Call me Dean. And this is Sam and Cas. Tiel. Castiel," he corrected when he caught the frigid look the angel gave him at being introduced as "Cas."
"Nice to meet you, Sam and Castiel. Okay, Dean. I'm not really supposed to do this, but if you like it that much, it's on the house tonight."
"Really?" Dean said with a little more enthusiasm than was probably required. "That's pretty generous."
"Well, there is a tiny little catch…" she added, pulling her order pad out of her shirt pocket with a shy smile. She handed Dean the tiny slip of paper with her name and phone number scribbled down on it in light, curvy handwriting. "I'd like to get a drink with you sometime, if you're interested. You're really pretty cute."
Sam started to laugh and nearly choked on the bite of apple pie he'd been eating, coughing harshly into his napkin before he took several quick sips of water.
"Is he okay?" Valerie asked, concerned.
"I'm fine," Sam croaked while Dean rolled his eyes and whacked him on the back a few times.
"Anyway," Dean said once he was sure his brother wasn't about to die, "I'd love to get a drink with you. I'll give you a call when I get a minute away from my job." He scribbled down one of his many cell phone numbers and handed it to her
"Sounds good. I'll get that burger ready for you. Enjoy the pie, guys!"
"Will do," Dean answered, taking another large bite and closing his eyes as he savored the flavor of the cherry filling.
After placing the to-go order with the kitchen, Valerie stepped into the back room reserved for employees, searching out her purse so she could put Dean's phone number in her wallet. Just as she picked it up, a strange black smoke began seeping through the vent, billowing out in a long cloud as if blown by invisible winds. She dashed over toward the fire alarm, thinking something had gone wrong with the wiring in the ceiling, but before she could pull it the smoke had rushed toward her, pushing open her mouth and pouring inside with a low hiss. It tasted like sulfur and smelled like something dead and rotting, and no matter how she struggled to back away from it, it simply kept coming until all of it had entered her body.
The young woman stood still for a minute, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Then her eyes flew open, shining jet-black under the bright lights of the room. She picked up the slightly crumpled slip of paper she had dropped on the floor, and a sinister smile spread across her pink lips.
"Dean Winchester, hmm?" she said quietly, stuffing the paper down into her purse and collecting her jacket and car keys. "It's a date."