Its for the School Paper, Lady

After I'd driven a suitable distance away from St.Louis, I pulled over and began to read through the case files I'd stolen. They were short on any new information about Dean, but there was something of use to me. One of Deans supposed victims was one Rebecca Stewarts. She was one of only two victims to escape alive, the other one being a wealthy business mans wife. In fact the woman's husband was at first suspected of the crimes, but after Deans supposed 'death', the authorities put the woman's account of her husband beating her down to shock, and pinned the case on Dean. This other victim though, Rebecca, interested me the most. She was around the younger brothers, Sam's, age and was a student at Stanford University. The same university that one Sam Winchester studied at. The fact that Rebecca had contact with Dean likely meant that she was a friend, or other acquaintance of Sam's. All of which made her my only lead that had been in direct contact with the Winchesters. I'd already planned on visiting Stanford anyway, Fenixes information had already told me that was where Sam had studied. Now though, I had an even better reason to pay the university a visit. Besides all of the university chicks of course.

While on the way to Stanford I couldn't help but wonder how Sam had been drawn into following his brother halfway across the country. It didn't make a whole of sense for him to work so hard to get into a legitimate life, and then for him to throw it all away again. Maybe there was something missing. Something I didn't know about. Still, sometimes people just chose this job. I know I never got forced into it. It just made me feel better knowing I was killing things worth my time and effort. Before I used to kill two bit street hoods, or low life politicians. Now though I killed demons and other bastard creatures. It didn't necessarily make me feel all warm inside, knowing that I was killing evil things and indirectly saving people. It just made me feel like I was spending my time on hunting things that were worth my attention. Things that challenged me, not groveled for their lives. Mind you, a few did grovel sometimes. But that just made putting them down all the more sweeter.

A few hours later and I'd arrived in Stanford. Luckily I got there just as the afternoon classes were starting at the university. Flocks of people wandered into and out of the buildings that stood on the university grounds. I pulled up outside of the largest building, the one which I assumed was the administration building. I moved my hand towards the cars glove compartment, but then abruptly decided against using a fake ID. It would make me too conspicuous, and a lot of the students would most likely close up to an authority figure of any sort. Nah, there'd be no need for an ID here. I swung open the car door and sauntered up to the main building. One of the large oak doors was held open by a doorstop. I wandered in through the open door. There were a few students sat down on either side of me in plastic chairs, a few of them were looking at the various pamphlets stapled to the walls behind them, while others chatted with each other. I walked over to the nearest person to me and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up and smiled at me. She was a typical looking student. Nice enough face but nothing spectacular. I smiled back. It looked like I was going to get the chance to play my seduction card here.

"Hey." I said in the most casual, laidback voice I could muster.

"Can I help you?" She replied in a charming voice, still smiling. The thick, and slightly upper class, British accent she spoke in made her sound even more charming.

"You know where I could find a Rebecca Stewarts?"

"Oh… Rebecca? Last I heard she was in the cafeteria having lunch. Maybe you' like to take me to lunch some time?"

Her question caught me somewhat off guard. I didn't have the time to court the upper crust of British exchange studentry.

"Maybe" I lied in a flat voice.

"Well you never know what your missing until later on right? How about a hug before you go then?"

A hug? Hmm. College chicks were getting so much easier to pull in recent times. Before I could answer she stood up and embraced me, while one of her hands slipped down my back. I didn't try to stop her. She smiled at me as I walked out of the door and headed for the cafeteria. I asked a student walking towards me where the cafeteria was, and he pointed me towards a large red bricked building. I thanked him and walked over.

It wasn't hard to spot Rebecca in the cafeteria. She was the only woman there, apart from one behind the lunch counter. She was sat with her back to the wall, staring vacantly, but contently, at an empty lunch tray. I sat down opposite her, and evidently startled her.

"Ugh. Hi! Sorry for making you jump there!" I told her.

"Its no problem. Err, did you want something?"

"Yes, actually. I wanted to ask you some questions about Sam Winchester."

Her face seemed to stiffen at his name.

"Sam…. What's this about?" She sounded agitated. Id have to do this carefully.

"Oh, Im from the… new school paper. The Bugle?"

She looked at me like I was a streaker of some description.

"You're a student here then right? How come I've never seen you before? And you look a little old to be at a student."

I pretended to look shocked.

"Im 24!" I lied, sounding genuinely surprised. I was really 30, and the fact that I had a near full beard didn't help my case.

"Right. Well… I don't really want to talk to you about Sam."

This wasn't going well.

"Please, its for a… Tribute?" I said in a confused tone. I should have thought this through more.

"God… is Sam… dead?"

I made a quick smug smile. Maybe a tribute wasn't such a bad idea. People love to tell tales about dead men.

"Err, yes. Im afraid so. He passed away last week in a… car accident." I stated, rather solemnly.

"What about Dean?"

I looked her in the eyes, and she realized her mistake quickly. Not quick enough though.

"I thought Dean was already dead. It was all over the news wasn't it? Shot dead by… you? In self defense wasn't it?"

She looked worriedly around.

"Yeah, but I meant… what about his body? Is it going to be buried in a plot next to Sams?'

It was a shoddy lie.

"Course you did. Now. Want to tell me where Sam was the last time he spoke to you, or shall I get the cops down in St. Louis to exhume Dearest Dean."

She sighed and clenched her fists, then unclenched them.

"He doesn't speak to me much anymore. Not after St.Louis. Now I know why anyway. He'd kill me for telling you this, but if the cops exhume that corpse now…" She trailed off.

"Where was he when he last spoke to you?"

"He said he was on his way to Nebraska, and that I should stay safe. He said there was something very bad going on."

"I see. Well thanks for your time."

I stood up and began to walk towards the exit.

"Wait!" She shouted at me.

I turned around to face her.

"Who are you?"

I smiled and gave her my answer:

"Im Peter Parker."

And with that, but for the grace of God went I.

Back at the car I put my hand into my back pocket to grab my keys. After a few moments of fumbling, I realized they weren't there… I was sure Id put them there when I got out of the car. Then I remembered the British woman's hug.

"Fuck." I said aloud.

A student wearing a pair of glasses glanced at me and then continued to walk on. But then, a flurry of movement to my left caught my eye. It was a group of uniformed men, and standing at the front of them was Rebecca. I looked over just in time to see her point at me, and also to see the uniforms begin to march towards me.

"Fuck!" I shouted out.

I elbowed the window of my car and groped for the handle on the inside. I found it and pulled it simultaneously. I fumbled around under the steering wheel and pulled off the piece of plastic that covered the cars wiring. I risked a glance up and saw the group were getting closer, and had begun to run. I caught hold of two pieces of wiring and sparked them together. One… Two…

"Bingo!"

The engine rumbled to life, and without bothering to sit up, I revved the car and sped off. After a few seconds a sat bolt upright and glanced at my mirror just in time to see my pursuers reach the roadside. Then I looked mournfully at my shattered window.

"Im going to get that bitch…"