AN: Here's another chapter! Please review! I need to know if this story is actually working...
The black Impala sped down the dirt-covered road of backwoods Nebraska. The sun was shining, and Led Zeppelin blasted from the speakers.
Dean tapped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand along with the beat. Good times, bad times. You know I had my share. They were headed towards a routine case. Routine for him, at least. Sam had yet to experience the weird and freaky. The abandoned farmhouse was a bust, and Dean still needed to slowly get his brother involved. A haunting would have been easy, but now there was a possibility of other encounters that had him worried. Sam wasn't ready.
He looked over at his younger brother, now shuffling through papers in that manpurse he always carried around. Dean had a briefcase in his trunk. He only used it once—his first day at the bureau almost 8 years ago. He felt like a dork, and tossed it to the side immediately after the day ended. Huh, that could be where he left his lucky pen. He lost that thing forever ago. Sam was now tapping away at his laptop—another thing Dean rarely used…besides for interests of the busty Asian variety, of course.
Sam was starting to fidget. He'd read over the report for the case they were driving to, and he'd gone through everything on his laptop at least once, if not twice. He needed to keep his mind off things.
The motel room from that morning was still haunting him, even though nothing had actually changed. Same awful matching curtains and bedspreads, same cheap chairs and table, and the lime green door still had to be forcibly shut when they locked up and left to check-out.
Ruby. The pale figure. It was her locket. Sam had never seen her before finding it, something he now couldn't forget about. She haunted him.
He wasn't scared of her, per se, but he was definitely unsettled by her presence. The fact that he couldn't explain how she was there and disappeared bothered him. He'd always been a skeptic of ghosts and anything paranormal. Everything had an explanation. He knew—he read all kinds. Vibrations from pipes that cause the peripheral vision to see things that weren't there. Sleep paralysis. Animals that people aren't aware of. Side effects of medication.
None of them explained Ruby, though. He had touched her, felt her skin under his fingers. She had been with him.
Sam had yet to tell Dean about any of it. All he needed was his brother to think he was losing his mind already. Or better yet, believe him. Dean was persistent about things that interested him, to the point he was stubborn and hard to deal with.
He went back to his laptop, clicking through files again, going through anything he had saved. There were some unusually horrific crimes that his brother had dealt with before Sam had even finished his undergraduate. They were peculiar, mainly because a lot of the culprits weren't even found, but they were still closed cases. Why hadn't he noticed this earlier? There was plenty of evidence. DNA, witnesses, even a confession or two.
Why hadn't he realized this before? He was now furious.
Sam looked over at his older brother who was currently fiddling with the AC, swearing under his breath until he finally got it to where he wanted.
Dean looked over, "What? It was getting a little stuffy. I can't roll down the windows with all this di—"
"Why were the cases closed? There was plenty of evidence. Witnesses even!" Sam interrupted.
Dean adjusted his tie and looked out the windshield. "Sammy, just let me explain. It's not that simple."
Sam slammed his laptop shut. "What do you mean it's 'not that simple'? People died, Dean. Don't you think their families would want some kind of closure? To see someone go to jail over it? Some kind of justice?"
Dean clenched his jaw and waited until Sam was a little calmer. "They did get closure, Sam. All of them."
Sam huffed threw his nose, and gave a short, hard laugh. "Oh, they did? How? Nothing was solved. The cases were just closed."
The impala slowed as Dean pulled onto the side of the road. He sat there for a moment before shutting off the engine and climbing out of the car. Confused and pissed off, Sam followed.
Dean took off his sunglasses and lean onto the roof of the car, opposite Sam. They stared at each other for a beat, the heat bearing down on them. There was no shade anywhere nearby. Beads of sweat quickly formed on both of their foreheads, and then Dean started.
"Sam, what I do for the bureau isn't normal. To almost everyone I work with, I'm just a normal field agent. I solve normal cases, and if they aren't solved, no one knows. No one knows what I really do except my superiors' superiors. When you told me you were coming to work for the bureau, I specially requested you as my partner," Dean stopped, sensing Sam wanted to say something.
"Why, Dean? Why did you request me? I'm not even a field agent. I'm a psychologist." Sam had lost a lot of the anger in his features, now replaced with curiosity.
"Because I wanted you to be in this world with me. I was tired of hiding things from you when you'd call to check up. Plus, I feel like you can help me understand things. You understand people and motives. You might be able to understand these things, too," Dean continued.
Sam's eyes narrowed at the word 'things.' The cases or the people involved? If he means an actual thing by 'things'… Animals, maybe? Hardened criminals that shouldn't be considered human? This little talk was getting confusing.
"Look," Dean started again, "I tried telling you yesterday morning. Things can get weird. They are weird, actually. I should've been able to show you that, but things didn't work out how they were supposed to. How I wanted them to. That farmhouse was a total bust. It was supposed to be haunted." Dean glared at his brother when he caught him smirking. "Yes, haunted. There was supposed to be a ghost. Drivers were running off the road in front of the house, and those who could actually remember why, said a woman was standing in the middle of the road. 50s housewife type."
Before Sam could help it, he blurted out, "Ruby."
"Ruby? Who the hell is Ruby?" Dean squinted his eyes, then sudden realization hit him. "You saw her. Sam, you saw her, didn't you?"
Sam scratched at the back of his neck, shifting in his spot. He avoided his brother's gaze. "Uh, well, what do you mean by 'saw'?"
"Did you see her, Sam? You need to tell me." When Sam nodded, Dean swore. "Where? Was it back at the house?"
"Why does that matter?" Sam's brow furrowed. Did it really matter where he saw her? It was just a ghost, if that's what she was.
"Just answer the damn question, Sam." Dean was getting angry. He definitely didn't want to deal with a hitchhiking ghost right now.
"She was… in our motel room?" Dean hit the roof of the car with his fist, then turned towards the road. He was pacing back and forth, thinking.
"Did you take anything from the house?" Sam started to shake his head, but Dean roared, "Dammit, Sam, tell me!" Sam didn't say anything but pulled the locket from his pocket. The heart looked so small and fragile when he laid it on the roof of the car. Dean marched back to the car and snatched at the necklace. The sun was reflecting off of it, like it shined, which already didn't make sense. The surface wasn't event that smooth, and it'd definitely seen some wear and tear.
He threw it on the asphalt, about to go get supplies to burn it. Then she was there.
She flickered at first, like the film of an old movie, completely absent of color. Then it was like she blossomed.
The white of her dress was bright, and the flowers on her dress—roses—were beautiful, even to the men before her. Her hair was coiffed tight, and her eyes smiled a warm brown. She was small, and her chin was raised, almost haughty, while the toe of her white high heel rested gently on top of the locket.
Sam's mouth hung open, both utter disbelief and relief that she existed tugging at him. Dean wasn't as conflicted. He was tense, arms crossed and feet spread apart, holding his ground. She was only feet away from him. He could smell roses.
Her mouth turned up into a smile, and a warm glow surrounded her, more welcoming than off-putting. Dean wasn't used to this kind of… apparition. They'd always been grayish and deeply set into strong emotions like sadness or anger. This one seemed content. Happy, even. It bothered him.
They both watched as she picked up the trinket and put it on. It hung at her throat like it was part of her. It wasn't worn anymore, but new-looking, shiny and smooth. She crossed her arms and walked towards Dean. She was a footstep away when adjusted her posture, taking his stance, feet spread, back straight. Her features settled into something more serious.
Dean's eyebrow lifted as he studied her. Sam started to laugh behind him, and Dean's head shot to the side in question. "Man, she's mocking you," Sam said before laughing more. Dean turned back to the small ghost. She was smiling at him. It looked suspiciously sarcastic.
"I don't like this. We need to get rid of that locket. Burn it with some salt. It'll go away after that," Dean stated as he completely ignored her and made his way to the truck of the Impala.
"Dean, you know she can hear you," Sam admonished as he sent her a sympathetic smile. Then he stopped. Why did he feel bad for a ghost? He looked at her again. She was studying him, almost like she knew what he was struggling with.
Dean was still digging through the truck when she appeared next to him. He jumped. She just stared. He grabbed for the salt again, moving around her to the road. He was about to pour the salt when he realized the locket wasn't on the ground anymore. "Son of a bitch," he swore. "Sam, make your girlfriend give me the necklace," Dean said as he scratched at his sideburn.
"Girlfriend? Dean, what? I can't make her give it to me. You're the one who threw it on the ground," Sam argued back. "And her name is Ruby," he added in afterthought.
"Ruby? I'm not calling it a name." Dean was getting frustrated. He stomped back to the trunk where Ruby still stood. Motionless. It was creepy.
Dean stopped and made a grab for the locket. Ruby looked briefly shocked before disappearing completely. More oaths followed as Dean threw the salt in the trunk and slammed it shut. Sam was grinning over the roof of the car when Dean gruffly climbed inside. Sam followed slowly after.
Dean's jaw was still tense when Sam piped up.
"Ya know, I kinda like her." He laughed when Dean all but growled in response.