A/N: Special thanks to grapejuice101, wideawakepastmidnight, RebornRose1992, bjq, and Tove for reviewing!
7.
Hook Man
Hannah took a bite out of the cinnamon roll she was eating, closing her eyes briefly as she savored the taste.
"You sound like you're in a porn," drawled Dean, who was sitting beside her while searching for cases on Sam's laptop.
"No, you sound like you're in a porno whenever you eat pie," Hannah retorted after swallowing the piece of cinnamon roll she was chewing.
Dean rolled his eyes, but said nothing in response. Hannah returned to eating her cinnamon roll in silence, smiling. She and the boys were at an outdoor cafe eating breakfast. Sam was at a nearby payphone trying to get information about John Winchester.
Sam walked back over to their table, disappointment plain on his features. Hannah guessed he didn't find out much about his father.
"Your half-caf, double vanilla latte is getting cold over here, Francis," Dean teased, looking up from the laptop.
"Bite me," rejoined Sam as he sat down in his chair next to Hannah.
"So, did you find anything?" Hannah asked, smiling hopefully.
Her smile faltered when Sam shook his head. "I had them check the FBI's Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations."
"Sam, I'm telling you, I don't think Dad wants to be found," Dean said. He frowned when he noticed the dismay on Sam's face.
"But who's to say that we won't find him?" Hannah told him optimistically. She gestured at Dean to turn the laptop to face Sam. "Check this out."
"It's an article out of Planes Courier from Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here," Dean explained, turning the laptop around.
"'The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road'," Sam read. He didn't sound terribly interested.
"Keep reading," Dean urged, and Hannah nodded her head encouragingly.
"'Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible'," Sam continued, creasing his eyebrows.
"Could be something interesting," Dean said casually.
"Or it could be nothing at all," Sam countered, leaning back in his chair. "One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man."
"But what if it is?" Hannah asked him.
Dean glanced at her then returned his gaze to Sam. "Dad would have checked it out," was all he said before calling over the waiter and paying for their breakfast.
Sam sighed and followed them out of the cafe and back to the Impala. Hannah offered him a smile which he returned, though his was less enthusiastic. She pulled a brush out of her purse and began brushing and sweeping her hair into a mid-high ponytail as Dean pulled out of his parking spot.
It was quiet for a while, with the exception of the radio playing. Hannah was just about to text her dad when Dean spoke up.
"The victim lived in a fraternity," he informed them.
"Okay," Sam said, shrugging.
"That means we have to stay there—to get more information," Dean elaborated, glancing at his brother.
"Dean, you're twenty-six. Don't you think it'll look a little suspicious if you're living in a frat house?" Sam questioned incredulously.
There was an offended expression on Dean's face. "Are you calling me old?" he demanded.
Sam looked as if he was suppressing a smile. "I'm just saying that people will wonder why you're deciding to live in a frat house."
"You're not that old," Hannah whispered to Dean.
"Whatever, smartass," replied Dean, disgruntled. "The article also says that Rich was with someone. I'm guessing it was a sorority sister."
Hannah waited for Dean to continue, but he didn't and instead looked at her through the rearview mirror. Realization slowly dawned on her, and Hannah shook her head vehemently.
"Come on, Princess. What's so wrong with living in a house with a bunch of hot young sorority girls?" Dean persisted when he saw the refusal on her face.
"Dean, these are the type of girls I was afraid of in high school!" Hannah exclaimed, "Sororities girls are all the popular girls in high school living in one house. They'll eat me alive in there!"
Sam turned in his seat to face Hannah. "Han, I knew a couple sorority girls and they weren't so bad."
"Have you seen The House on Sorority Row?" Hannah asked him, her voice threatening to become shrill from how agitated she was becoming.
Dean snorted. "I have," he answered, and there was a hint of lust in his tone. "And how are you more afraid of women your own age than ghosts?"
Hannah crossed her arms in a huff.
"You're not saying anything because I'm right," Dean stated, flashing a smug grin.
He was right, but Hannah refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was.
When she saw the sorority house in the distance, Hannah tried to swallow down her uneasiness. Hannah hoped the girls weren't like anything she experienced in high school, but the fear was still there and it was overwhelming.
The car slowed down, stopping in front of the sorority house. Dean slid out of the driver's seat and Hannah followed him out, waiting for him to unlock the trunk so she could retrieve her duffel bag.
She was about to go, but then Dean grabbed her forearm and pulled her back. His expression shifted into something more serious, and Hannah wondered what he was going to say.
"Let me know if there's a naked pillow fight?" Dean asked, unabashed.
"You're such a pervert," Hannah told him, rolling her eyes. She shrugged off his hand and headed to the sorority house.
There were some girls sitting on the porch reading magazines, one with lustrous black hair and another blonde, her hair resembling spun gold. They were both staring at her, and it took a minute for Hannah to realize that they were appraising her.
The black-haired girl spoke up first. "Can we help you?"
"Yeah, hi, I'm Hannah. I'm your sorority sister from... Ohio. I'm a transfer and looking for a place to stay," Hannah explained, using the lie Dean told her.
"Oh." The blonde blinked then smiled, seeming friendlier. "Hi! I'm Vicky and this is Katie. Let me introduce you to everyone."
Katie still regarded Hannah coldly and returned to reading her magazine as Vicky opened the front door and gestured for Hannah to enter. She did so hesitantly, looking around at the brightly decorated house.
Hannah followed Vicky inside the house, smiling shyly at everyone she introduced to her. They went upstairs where Vicky led her to her room. She barged into a room where a pretty dark-skinned girl with long curly hair and a girl with dark blonde hair were sitting on their respective beds talking.
"Girls, meet our sister from Ohio," Vicky said, uncaring that she interrupted their conversation. "What was your name again?"
"Hannah," she told her once again.
"Lucky for you, we have an extra bed. I'm Taylor by the way," said the curly-haired girl, standing up to greet Hannah. "This is Lori."
Lori smiled wanly and waved, but her face was ashen. Hannah wondered what was wrong with her. She set down her duffel bag in front of her bed while Vicky sat down on the empty bed, making herself comfortable.
"So, Hannah, who was that guy who dropped you off here?" Vicky asked.
"What guy? Do we know him?" Taylor questioned eagerly.
"No, but he was hot," Vicky informed her. She smiled slyly at Hannah. "So, is he your boyfriend?"
Hannah's face flushed red. "No, he's not my boyfriend."
"Then is he, like, your friend-with-benefits?" Vicky inquired, twirling a lock of hair.
"No."
"Fuck buddy?"
"I've never had a fuck buddy who drives me home!" Taylor whined, falling back on her bed.
"He's not... we aren't like that," Hannah sputtered out.
"Oh." Vicky and Taylor both looked disappointed. "You're probably not his type anyway," Vicky remarked snidely, getting up and leaving the bedroom.
So, Lori is quiet, Vicky is rude, and Taylor is boy-crazy, thought Hannah, her face still hot from the embarrassing questions.
"Do you two have boyfriends?" Hannah asked shyly. The smile vanished from Taylor's face and Lori looked away. "Oh, did I say something wrong?"
"No, it's just..." Taylor glanced at Lori who turned back to Hannah.
"It's fine, Taylor. You can tell her," Lori said. She forced a smile, and the queasiness Hannah felt in her stomach returned.
"Lori had a boyfriend. His name was Rich. He, um, died recently," Taylor explained, sorrow coloring her voice.
"Oh. Oh. I am so sorry! I didn't—I had no idea," Hannah said, genuinely embarrassed. In the back of her head, she was pleased she found someone who could help with this case, but she still felt guilty for bringing up such painful memories for the poor girl.
Lori gave her a dismissive wave. "I'm not mad. You're new in town, so of course you had no idea," she said then stood. "We're actually headed to church right now. Did you want to come with us?"
"Yeah, sure." Hannah followed the two girls out of the room. She soon learned that Lori was the reverend's daughter on the way to church.
Hannah hadn't been to church since she was baptized at less than six months old. Her dad never forced any sort of religion onto Hannah, but he did teach her different kinds of religion in case she felt like following one. She always loved him for that.
The three of them sat in the front pew in the church. After everyone settled in their seats, service began with Reverend Sorensen speaking above everyone.
"Our hearts go out to the family of a young man who perished. And my personal prayers of thanks go out as well because I believe he died trying to protect my daughter," said Reverend Sorensen.
His daughter swallowed thickly, and Hannah saw pink tinge her cheeks.
"And now, as time heals all our wounds, we should reflect on what this tragedy means. To us, as a church—" The sound of doors slamming interrupted his sermon, sending echoes throughout the entire church. Hannah and the others turned in their seats to see who entered.
Of course, it was Dean and Sam.
They spotted Hannah quickly and Dean winked at her while Sam shrugged sheepishly.
"Idiots," Hannah mouthed. She rolled her eyes when Dean made a face at her then pushed Sam into a seat in the back pew.
"As a community, and as a family," the reverend continued. "The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings. So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children."
She bowed her head and closed her eyes, but her mind was blank. Hannah didn't pray often; she was usually too busy with school or hunting. Hannah tuned out the rest of the sermon until she heard everyone leaving the church.
Taylor looped her arm with Hannah's and grinned. "So, I was thinking we should throw a party for you. We always have these things whenever a new girl joins our sorority. What do you guys say?"
"I can't. It's Sunday night," Lori declined, frowning.
"It's just us girls then. We're going do tequila shots and watch Reality Bites," Taylor decided, keen on throwing a party.
"I love that show!" Hannah chirped, sharing a grin with Taylor. "The people on there are so trashy."
"I know right?" Taylor turned back to Lori, giving her puppy dog eyes. "See? Hannah wants to party."
"My dad makes dinner every Sunday night," Lori insisted, and Hannah didn't blame her for not being up to partying.
Taylor pouted, but smiled gently at Lori. "Come on, Lori. I know this has been hard, but you are allowed to have fun."
Lori hesitated then sighed. "I'll try," she promised, and Taylor rolled her eyes. They hugged and Taylor was about to go her separate way when she paused and looked back at Hannah.
"Aren't you coming?" she asked.
"Um..." Hannah's gaze drifted to the two idiots approaching them. "I wanted to introduce you guys to my friends. The guys who dropped me off? Yeah, they're brothers of the fraternity nearby."
"Really? They wouldn't be the guys who..." Taylor trailed off, raising her brows when Dean and Sam finally came up to them. "Hey."
"Hey back." Dean let his eyes roam Taylor's figure then flickered to Hannah, smiling lazily at her. "Hannah. Aren't you going to introduce us?"
"Taylor. Lori, these are my friends Sam and Dean. They're brothers."
"We don't want to bother you. We just heard about what happened and..." Sam offered Lori a kind, apologetic smile.
"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean told her.
"I kind of know what you're going through." Hannah snapped her attention to Sam, her eyes widening. This was the first time he was opening up about Jessica, and it sounded like he was attempting to keep the emotion from rising in his voice. "I... I saw someone get hurt once... It's something you don't forget."
Lori nodded in understanding. Hannah glanced over them and noticed Reverend Sorensen walking over to them.
"Dad, um, this is my roommate Hannah and her friends Sam and Dean. They're new students," Lori said, her eyes lingering on Sam.
Dean shook the reverend's hand, smiling politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon."
Hannah guffawed, but passed it off as a cough. Dean shot her a dirty look while Sam smiled at her, amused.
"Thank you very much. It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message," Reverend Sorensen said, genuinely pleased.
"Listen, uh, we're new in town, actually..." Dean draped his arm over Hannah's shoulders and steered her and Reverend Sorensen away from Sam, Lori, and Taylor. "And, uh, we were looking for a, um, a church group."
She gave Dean a questioning look. He nodded his head slightly, and Hannah turned back to the reverend with a smile.
"Well, you've come to the right place," Reverend Sorensen said, sounding pleasantly surprised.
"You see, Dean wants to become a... um, a born-again-virgin and since we heard your sermon, we thought you would be the best person to help," Hannah explained, biting her lip to keep herself from smiling.
Reverend Sorensen looked at Dean, surprised. Dean forced a smile and shrugged helplessly.
"I'm a new man, reverend," he replied.
"Well, we can arrange a meeting to discuss this more in private," Reverend Sorensen said then clapped Dean on the shoulder. "Come by the church sometime soon, and don't be shy, son. I find it honorable that a young man like yourself has decided to make such a pledge for himself."
"You got it, sir." Dean nodded. The moment the reverend disappeared, he dropped his arm off Hannah's shoulders. "Why the hell would you say something like that?"
"Oh, calm down. It's not like you're really becoming a born-again-virgin," Hannah remarked, brushing off his annoyance. They went over to where Sam stood alone, Lori having left with Taylor back to the sorority house. "Lori was with Rich when the murder happened, guys."
"Yeah, we found out from one of Rich's pals back at the frat house," Sam told her. "We should head to the library; see if we can find anything to help with this job."
Hannah brightened when she heard him say 'library'. She ignored the groan Dean released and followed the boys back to the Impala. Sam explained to them what Lori told him as they drove there.
"So you believe her?" Dean asked as they entered the library.
"I do." Sam nodded, solemn.
"Yeah, I think she's hot too," Dean commented. Hannah refrained from rolling her eyes.
"No, man, there's something in her eyes," Sam murmured, looking at them. "And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car."
"Wait, the body suspended?" Dean asked, frowning. "That sounds like the—"
"Yeah, I know, the Hook Man legend," Sam interjected.
"That's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don't think that we're dealing with the Hook Man, do you?" Hannah questioned, glancing back and forth at them.
Sam shrugged. "Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began."
It made sense the more Hannah thought about it. She just never thought the Hook Man legend would be true, but then again, she didn't think the Bloody Mary legend had been real as well.
"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?" Dean asked them.
"What if the Hook Man isn't a man, and maybe just some kind of spirit?" Hannah suggested, almost confidently.
"You took the words right out of my mouth," Sam said, smiling. He turned to Dean, his smile broadening. "Time for your favorite part: research."
Dean groaned again.
Hannah looked up when a box slammed down on the table in front of her and the boys. The librarian placed a couple more boxes in front of them.
"Here you go. Arrest records going back to 1851," said the librarian.
"Thank you," Hannah said, smiling politely.
Dean blew some dust off the books at the top of the box, coughing when he inhaled some of it. Hannah looked down at her lap giggling.
"So," Dean started, grabbing a few books and passing them to Hannah and Sam. "This is how you two spent four good years of your lives, huh?"
"Welcome to higher learning," Sam deadpanned, opening the book Dean handed to him.
For the next three hours, they read each the numerous books the librarian found for them. While Hannah didn't mean to, she felt her focus slowly drain and center on Dean instead. As much as he despised research, Hannah could see how good he was at it. His eyes never strayed from what he was reading.
She looked down, focusing on own research once she realized how long she had been staring at him.
"Hey, check this out," Sam called ten minutes later. Hannah and Dean leaned over to read what Sam found. "1862, a preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder."
"Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed thirteen prostitutes," Hannah noted after reading a passage from the book.
"Right here, 'some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh'," read Sam.
Dean flipped a page then pointed to another passage. "Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook."
"Look where all this happened," Hannah said, her eyes widening slightly as she continued reading the page.
"Nine Mile Road," Dean realized, looking up.
"Same place where the frat boy was killed," Sam deduced.
Dean stood, grinning at the both of them. "Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let's check it out."
She and Sam gathered the rest of the research, checked them out, and then headed outside to the Impala. The drive wasn't too long since this was a small town. Hannah fingered the thin silver chain around her neck as they reached their destination, her apprehension rising a little.
Spirits were the easiest to deal with compared to demons and shapeshifters. Still, Hannah always felt like something could go wrong during their hunts. She usually worried about what would happen if Dean or Sam got hurt.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked her, noticing her silence.
"I'm fine," Hannah answered with a smile. "Now move."
He slid out of the driver's seat and Hannah climbed out after him. It was completely dark outside, but thankfully Sam had a flashlight. Hannah tried not to miss her footing as she went over to where Dean was. He opened the trunk and pulled out two shotguns, handing them to Sam and Hannah before grabbing one for himself.
"If it's a spirit, buckshot won't do much good," Sam remarked.
"It's rock salt, Sam," Hannah said, glancing at Dean. She knew he wasn't stupid enough to use buckshot while dealing with a spirit. Did Sam forget some things during his time off as a hunter?
"Huh. Salt being a spirit deterrent," Sam murmured, impressed.
"Yeah. It won't kill them." Dean slammed the trunk shut after grabbing a coil of rope. "But it'll slow them down."
"That's pretty good. You guys and Dad think of this?"
"I told you. You don't have to be a college graduate to be a genius."
They explored the area for a while, pointing their flashlight around in case the spirit was hiding in the darkness. Hannah paused when she heard a twig snap. There was a rustle in the undergrowth behind them, and Sam raised his shotgun.
Dean gestured over to the undergrowth, and Hannah could hear Sam cock the shotgun. She held her breath when someone emerged from behind the trees then widened her eyes when it was just a police officer.
"Put the gun down now! Now!" shouted the officer. Hannah exhaled the breath she'd been holding, partly relieved and partly annoyed. "Put your hands behind your head!"
Hannah dropped her shotgun and followed the officer's orders.
"Wait, wait! Okay, okay!" Dean yelled, seeming more annoyed than Hannah.
"Now get down on your knees. Come on, do it! On your knees!" Hannah, Dean, and Sam reluctantly dropped to their knees. She closed her eyes, trying to soothe her nerves, but the officer screaming at them did nothing to help stop her heart from hammering inside her chest.
"Now get down on your bellies. Come on, do it!" commanded the officer.
"But, officer, my sweater will get dirty!" Hannah cried out, glancing down at her pale mauve sweater.
The officer ignored her and Hannah whimpered as she forced herself to get on the ground. She heard Dean grumble next to her, "He pointed the gun."
She felt the officer confiscate their shotguns before someone else clasp handcuffs around her and the boys' wrists. Hannah would have started bawling if the other officer hadn't hauled her up and shoved her in the backseat of the police car, sandwiching her between Dean and Sam.
Stop being such a big baby, Hannah told herself. She took a couple deep breaths before letting her head hit the back of the hard seat.
"Listen," Dean muttered, and Hannah rolled her eyes to him. "Don't say anything. Let me do all the talking."
"Yeah, cause having you talk to authority always works out for us," hissed Sam. He shifted next to Hannah and tilted his head to look out the window.
"I blame you for ruining my sweater," Hannah said, glaring at Dean.
"Then don't wear sweaters like that out on hunts!" Dean exclaimed.
"Shut up back there!" snapped the officer driving.
They remained silent for the rest of the drive back to the police station. Hannah wet her lips, noticing how chapped they were. If only her wrists weren't handcuffed, then she'd grab her lip balm from the pocket of her jeans. When they were led inside the station, Hannah realized that it was the sheriff who had caught them at Nine Mile Road. Crap, she thought, hoping they weren't in huge trouble, or worse: arrested.
Dean looked at her as he was being led to a different room, his expression clearly reminding her not to say anything. Hannah gave a subtle nod of her head, and put up no fight as she was brought into another room. The officer seemed frustrated that Hannah wouldn't answer his questions, but thankfully another officer came in and murmured something in the man's ear.
"You're free to go," the officer announced as he uncuffed Hannah's wrists.
"Don't worry, officer, we won't do that again," Hannah told him then rushed out of the room where she saw Sam waiting for her. "Where's Dean?"
Sam jutted his thumb out to where Dean was. Hannah whirled and rolled her eyes when she saw that he was flirting with the receptionist. She strode over to him, grabbed his wrist, and dragged him out of the police station.
"Hey, hey, hey! I was just talking to the woman! Jeez," Dean grumbled, pulling his arm free from Hannah's grasp.
"What did you say?" Sam asked, mildly annoyed.
"I saved your asses!" Dean exclaimed, grinning at them. "Talked the sheriff down to a fine. Dude, I am Matlock."
"How?" Sam questioned. Hannah watched Dean walk with an air of heightened arrogance. He could be such an idiot sometimes.
"I told him you were a dumbass pledge and that we were hazing you," Dean laughed.
"What about the shotgun? What about Hannah?" Sam demanded as they approached the Impala.
"I said that you were hunting ghosts and the spirits were repelled by rock salt. You know, typical Hell Week prank," Dean replied, twirling the keys around his index and middle finger.
"And he believed you?" Hannah asked, incredulous.
"Well, Sam looks like a dumbass pledge," Dean scoffed, oblivious to the glare Sam was sending him. "And I told the sheriff that you were there because you... uh..."
"What?" Hannah urged, curious as know how Dean got her out of trouble as well.
Dean smirked and made an obscene gesture with his fist and mouth. Hannah gasped and slapped his arm.
"Why would you say something like that?" she demanded.
"Pay back for telling the reverend that I'm a born-again-virgin," Dean replied, still smirking.
Hannah opened her mouth, about to berate him for embarrassing her when the doors to the police station burst open and several officers rushed out of the building, all running towards various police cars. She exchanged a worried glance with Dean and Sam before hurrying to the Impala.
The sorority house was the crime scene as they drove by it. Hannah touched Dean's shoulder and he slowed down the Impala until they were parked in front of the sorority house. Sam got out, letting Hannah climb out.
"Meet us in Lori's room when you're done talking to her," Sam instructed. Hannah nodded, watching them drive off.
Hannah strode over to Lori where sat on the back of a parked ambulance truck, swathed in a blanket. She looked traumatized, but Hannah couldn't blame her. She witnessed her boyfriend getting murdered and now her friend.
Lori looked up when she noticed Hannah coming towards her. "Where were you?" she asked Hannah.
"I was at the library studying with Dean and Sam," Hannah explained then frowned. "Lori, what happened?"
"Taylor, she..." Lori paused, choking back a sob. "Oh God, Hannah, there was blood everywhere."
"I'm so sorry." Hannah wrapped her arms around Lori, rubbing her back gently as she sobbed into her shoulder. "Are they letting anyone inside?"
"I don't think so," Lori sniffled, lifting her face from Hannah's shoulder. "Why do you ask?"
"I need my things," Hannah said. She stepped back and headed to the entrance of the sorority house.
"But our room is a crime scene!" Lori called after her, but Hannah paid no mind to the warning.
She was about to open the door, but an officer blocked her from entering. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I need my things. They're in the room where Taylor was killed," Hannah explained, distracted. She wondered if the guys had gotten inside yet, and hoped that they wouldn't get caught if they were. "Please, officer? I haven't even unpacked my bag. Just let me run in and get it."
The officer hesitated then sighed and stepped aside to let her in. Hannah flashed him a smile and ran inside then up the stairs. She managed to dodge a few officers on the way to her room where Hannah waited until the sheriff stepped out of the room where she snuck in. She heard grunting and someone falling in the walk-in closet.
"Be quiet," hissed Sam.
"You be quiet!" Dean hissed back.
"Both of you be quiet!" Hannah admonished as she quietly shut the door behind her. The boys emerged from the closet, both glaring at her. She ignored them, looking around. "Look."
"'Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?'" Sam read aloud. "That's right out of the legend."
"Yeah, that's classic Hook Man all right," Dean agreed, going over to the window.
"What is that smell?" Hannah asked, sniffing the air.
"Ozone," answered Dean, glancing back at her. "Means there's a spirit nearby."
She nodded, continuing to look around until she spotted a cross underneath the bloody words. She studied it for a moment before nudging Sam and gesturing to the cross. His eyes narrowed at it then he seemed to understand as well.
"Hey, Dean," Hannah said, still studying the cross. "Does this look familiar to you?"
Dean went over to the foot of another bed and picked up a familiar duffel bag. "We should get out of here before the cops find us."
"Don't think you'll be able to talk the sheriff down to a fine then," Sam said jokingly.
Hannah laughed lightly, while Dean rolled his eyes. She bounded over to the window and carefully slipped out first. Making sure she wasn't seen by the cops patrolling the front of the sorority house, Hannah climbed down and landed on the ground a bit ungracefully.
Sam poked his head out the window, and Hannah motioned for him to come out. He slung the thick strap of her duffel bag over his broad shoulder before climbing out the window and jumping down, stumbling towards her when he landed.
They waited for Dean to meet them then left the scene swiftly. The Impala was parked nearby when they approached it where Dean unlocked the trunk so Hannah could place her duffel bag in there. She rifled through the box they had checked out from the library and found a page where the cross they just saw was drawn on it.
The three of them sat on the hood of the Impala, Hannah sandwiched between them as they studied the drawing.
"It's the same symbol," stated Sam, "Seems like it's the spirit of Jacob Karns."
"Alright, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down," Dean decided, looking at her and Sam.
"'After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery... in an unmarked cemetery'," Hannah read then lowered the paper, certain that Sam and Dean were just as annoyed as she was.
She was right.
"Super," Dean sighed, resigned.
"Ok. So we know it's Jacob Karns, but we still don't know where he'll manifest next," Hannah said, trying to gather answers.
"Or why," Sam added.
"I'll take a wild guess about why," drawled Dean. He pushed himself off the car and went over to the driver's door. "I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this."
Sam and Hannah glanced at each other before getting off the hood and hopping inside the Impala.
While they normally did their research at the library, Sam had suggested they head back to the frat house so he could study the cross more on his laptop. Hannah readily agreed because she needed a shower and the sorority house was still a crime scene. Dean only agreed because he remembered that there was a party happening at the frat house.
As soon as she entered the frat house, it was as if everything came to a halt. Two guys lifting a couch froze, another two by the DJ set paused, and the rest just gawked at her. Hannah felt like an animal at the zoo with all these eyes on her. She couldn't have been that interesting to look at.
"Hi there," greeted a dark-haired boy.
"Hi," Hannah said, smiling politely. "You guys are having a party here, right?"
"Yeah, but you're a little early," replied another boy, this one with honey blonde locks.
"She's with us," Dean said, tugging on Hannah's ponytail. "Come on."
Hannah waved at all the boys who all grinned at her. She hurried upstairs, hiding her blush. How embarrassing, Hannah thought, covering her pink cheeks with her hands. It was still strange whenever a guy approached her and used a pickup line on her.
Sam guided her to the bathroom and offered her a sheepish smile when he noticed the distraught look on her face.
"Yeah, sorry about the bathroom," he apologized.
"I guess I shouldn't have expected less," Hannah said, giggling at the contrite look on Sam's face. "I'll help you with your 'homework' when I'm finished."
He nodded and dropped her duffel bag to the ground before going to the room he was sharing with Dean and another fraternity brother. Hannah looked around at the messy bathroom and sighed. She was glad Dean and Sam weren't messy to this extreme.
Shutting the door, Hannah peeled off her dirt-stained clothes and stepped into the shower after grabbing a clean washcloth from her duffel bag. Thirty minutes later, Hannah stepped out of the shower feeling fresh and clean. She blinked when she realized she didn't have a towel.
"Crap," she muttered, shivering. Opening the door ajar, she poked her head out, but made sure her naked body was out of sight. "Sam! Dean! Could one of you bring me a towel!"
There was a clamoring downstairs, and Hannah's face warmed. She sighed in relief when she saw Sam walking towards her with a dark green towel in his hand. He turned away as he handed it to her, and Hannah thanked him profusely before slamming the door behind her.
After toweling herself dry, Hannah gathered her dirty clothes in one arm and lifting her duffel bag with the other. She struggled to open the door without dropping she reached the room, Sam was on his laptop while Dean was sprawled out on his temporary bed. She put her things near Sam and Dean's duffel bags and went over to Dean.
"Hey, mind getting us something to eat?" Hannah suggested as she sat down on the edge of his bed.
"Let me guess—strawberry milkshake for you and a salad for geek boy over there?" Dean said, removing the arm that was slung over his eyes.
"Can you just go?" Hannah frowned at him.
Dean rolled off the bed and swaggered out of the room, but not without poking Hannah and ruffling Sam's hair. Sam swatted at his brother as he left, and Hannah suppressed a smile. He could be so annoying, but Hannah couldn't imagine not having this man-child in her life.
Hannah stood and peered over Sam's shoulder at the laptop. "So, what have you gotten so far?"
By the time Sam and Hannah finished their research, the party the frat boys were throwing had started. Hannah slipped on her tall riding boots and denim jacket before following Sam downstairs where they suddenly in the midst of the party.
There was an uncomfortable look on Sam's face, and Hannah tried to mask her own apprehension with a cheery smile. Some of the frat boys from earlier had come up to her and flirted with her, but Hannah declined each one. She was too focused on this hunt to hook up with anyone. Dean seemed to fit in with this party scene, smiling and winking at a girl passing by as he approached them.
"Man, you guys have been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome!" Dean exclaimed, looking around at the scantily-clad girls and guys playing beer pong.
"This wasn't really my experience," admitted Sam.
"Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A's?" Dean said, staring at his brother in disbelief. He scoffed when Sam merely nodded in response. "What a geek. Alright, did you guys do your homework?"
"Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori?" Sam started as the three of them began walking out of the living room. "So, we came up with something."
Hannah unraveled a piece of paper and handed it to Dean. His eyes scanned it as he read aloud. "1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage."
"There's a pattern here," Hannah continued, "in both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force."
"Killings carried out—get this—with a sharp instrument," Sam added, his eyes glinting. Hannah noticed that Sam got rather excited when he discovered something new during their hunts.
"What's the connection to Lori?" Dean questioned, puzzled.
"A man of religion? Who openly preaches against immorality?" Hannah stressed, hoping he would understand. He did, and Hannah grinned.
"Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he's just trying to save his only daughter," Sam said.
"Reverend Sorensen," Dean realized. The corners of his mouth lifted like he wanted to smile when he saw Hannah's grin, but he didn't. "You guys think he's summoning the spirit?"
"He could be," Hannah agreed, crossing her arms. "Or it could be a poltergeist. You know how poltergeists can haunt a person instead of a place?"
"Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend's repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay," Dean said, willing to go with that.
"Without the reverend even knowing it," Sam said, thoughtful. It was a quiet for a moment, with the exception of the loud music blaring around them.
"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight," Dean told Sam. Hannah silently agreed, knowing from the way Lori looked at Sam, she wouldn't mind some male company.
"What about you two?" Sam asked.
Dean looked across the room, and Hannah followed his gaze. A blonde girl holding a cue stick near the pool table smiled invitingly at Dean. She could see the reluctance to leave on Dean's face, but his dalliance could wait.
"We're going to find that unmarked grave. Right, Dean?" Hannah answered for the both of them.
"Yeah, right." Dean shook his head in disappointment and allowed himself to be led out of the house. He didn't say anything else until they were nearby the cemetery. "So, Hannah, were you like Sam and didn't go to ragers like that?"
Hannah looked at him in surprise from the passenger seat. "I went to one party, but I hardly remember it."
It was Dean's turn to look surprised. "You got wasted?"
"My friends insisted I experience the 'other side' of college since I was usually studying," Hannah explained, a little embarrassed.
"I would love to see you drunk," Dean commented as he parked the Impala outside of the cemetery.
"Why?" Hannah questioned, bewildered by his interest.
"I dunno." Dean shrugged, unbuckling his seatbelt. "You're always so uptight. I just want to see you get loose."
"I can be loose," Hannah said defensively. "I'm loosey-goosey. I'm cool as a cucumber."
He regarded her with an amused look before snorting and stepping out of the driver's seat. Hannah slid out, ready to prove her point that she was "loose" but Dean thrusted a shovel into her arms, the force making her stumble backwards.
"Ever dig a grave?" Dean asked, his grin bordering on insolence.
Hannah smiled, broadening into a grin when Dean's own grin faltered.
"Nope, but I will tonight!" she replied cheerfully. "Let's get this done before Mr. Hook Man, uh, hooks another person."
"Nice pun," chortled Dean.
The gates to the cemetery were locked, so she and Dean were forced to climb them. Picking up the shovel and flashlight she had thrown over the gates, Hannah walked alongside Dean as they searched for the unmarked grave.
They explored the cemetery for about twenty minutes, and Hannah half expected a raven to appear and croon, "Nevermore." Luckily for them, Dean spotted the exact grave they were searching for, complete with a cross engraved on the headstone. The same cross they recognized on the wall of Lori and Taylor's room.
Hannah shrugged off her denim jacket and draped it over a headstone nearby. She stretched her arms before she started digging the grave with Dean. It took them almost thirty-five minutes of digging until their shovels finally hit the wooden floor of the grave. Dean straightened, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
She waited for him to break the wooden coffin, but he didn't. Instead, he looked distracted and he seemed to be staring at Hannah strangely.
"What?" she asked him. "What's wrong?"
"Huh?" Dean blinked out of his daze. "Nothing's wrong, your... never mind."
She creased his brows, confused by his response, but didn't linger on it and gestured to the coffin. Dean remembered what they were doing and plunged the shovel into the wooden coffin, breaking it slightly. He did it a few more times before it finally broke. Hannah shone the light of her flashlight over the grave, relieved to see the preacher's remains.
"Hello, preacher," Dean mumbled, tossing his shovel aside. Hannah dropped hers and unzipped the duffel bag Dean had brought.
While Dean poured the carton of salt over the bones, Hannah poured the lighter fluid over it. Dean lit a match and was about to toss it in the grave when he paused and looked at Hannah.
"Would you like to do the honors?" he asked, giving her a lazy smile.
"Sure." Hannah accepted the match and tossed it in the grave, taking a small step back when the bones burst into flames.
"Goodbye, preacher," Dean said then picked up his jacket, shovel, and duffel bag off the ground. "What now, Princess?"
Hannah tilted her head, thoughtful then punched Dean's arm playfully. "We see if that party is still going on."
Dean grinned.
The party was still going on when they returned to the frat house. Some people gave her and Dean suggestive looks after seeing how sweaty and dirty they were. You guys have it all wrong, Hannah thought, blushing.
People were mostly drinking and making out in dark corners of the house. Dean looked thoroughly disappointed when the blonde from earlier was gone, but it didn't last too long as he made his way to the pool table to play a game himself.
"Anyone want to play?" he asked loudly, but no one seemed to hear him.
"I'll play you," Hannah offered, grabbing one of the cue sticks that were leaning against the pool table.
"Oh yeah. I remember teaching you how to play," Dean said as he set the game up. "How old were you again?"
"You taught me when I was seventeen," Hannah remembered, smiling fondly. It disappeared the more she remembered it. "Oh God, you taught me at a biker bar."
"Are you sure it was at a biker bar?"
"Dean, I'm positive it was at a biker bar. I can't remember the last time I was so terrified."
"Why? If I was there, there was nothing to worry about."
Hannah scowled at him. "I was underage! All those men kept looking at me like I was a piece of meat! And there was a man with biceps bigger than your head!"
Dean laughed and started the game. They played for a while then went upstairs to Dean's room. Hannah took off her boots and collapsed on Sam's bed. She was so tired and this bed was softer than the motel ones.
It felt like only a few minutes passed when she was being shaken awake.
"Wha...?" Hannah sat up suddenly, eyes wide, hair tousled. "Huh?" She blinked a few times as her eyes focused on Dean.
"I just got a call from Sam. Lori's dad is in the hospital," Dean told her, frowning.
"What time is it?" Hannah asked instead.
"Five minutes to eight," he replied then moved to the other side of the room. "Come on."
Hannah pushed herself off Sam's bed and sluggishly put on her boots. When they went downstairs, Hannah widened her eyes at how trashed the place was. There was even a guy knocked out on one of the couches.
"Did he tell you what happened?" Hannah inquired as they hurried over to the Impala.
"No, but he sounded startled," Dean answered, unlocking the car.
"Could it be the Hook Man?"
"There's no way. We salted and burned those bones."
Dean was right, she supposed. It couldn't be the Hook Man. She remembered clearly digging up Jacob Karns' grave and salting and burning his remains. If it was him, though... Hannah tried to figure out how this spirit could possibly still be haunting the reverend.
They managed to figure out which floor Sam and Lori were on after seeing police patrolling the lobby. Hannah wheedled the information out of one of the cops who then accompanied them to the elevator where he and another officer walked them to the reverend's room.
"We're with him," Hannah told the two officers, gesturing to Sam who was standing outside the reverend's room talking to the sheriff.
"He's our brother," Dean added, half lying. He waved at Sam. "Hey! Brother!"
"Let them through," commanded the sheriff.
"Thanks," Hannah told the officers, flashing a smile before running over to Sam. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"
"I'm fine, Hannah," Sam said, uncaring that Hannah was checking his face for injuries. She rolled up the sleeves to his hoodie, making sure he didn't have any scratches on him arms.
"What the hell happened?" Dean demanded.
Sam glanced behind him then leaned towards them and said in a hushed voice, "Hook Man."
"What!"
"You saw him?"
"Damn right," Sam answered before glaring at them. "Why didn't you guys torch the bones?"
"What are you talking about? We did," Dean replied snappishly.
"Are you sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?" Hannah asked, cutting in before Dean and Sam could quarrel.
"It sure as hell looked like him, and that's not all." Sam glanced behind him again, and Hannah realized he was looking back at Lori in the hospital room. "I don't think the spirit is latching on to the reverend."
"Well, yeah, the guy wouldn't send the Hook Man after himself," Dean said, somewhat derisively.
"I think it's latching onto Lori. Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman," Sam revealed. Hannah widened her eyes from this new information, and her head began to swim as she calculated different theories.
"So what?" Dean said, shrugging.
"So she's upset about it," Hannah told him. "She's upset over the immortality of it. Don't you get it?"
"She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished," Sam added.
Dean nodded and said, "Ok, so she's conflicted, and the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he's doing the punishing for her, huh?"
"Yes!" Hannah exclaimed, proud that he finally understood. She knew Dean wasn't dumb, just that he didn't piece things together as quick as she and Sam.
"Right." Sam gave her an amused look. "Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair."
"Remind me not to piss this girl off," Dean remarked offhandedly. "But we burned those bones, we buried them in salt. Why didn't that stop him?"
"You guys must have missed something," Sam replied, unsure.
"No." Dean shook his head, but Hannah thought about what they possibly could have missed. "We burned everything in that—"
"The hook!" Hannah grabbed Dean's arm, startling him. "We didn't get the hook, Dean."
"So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power," Dean realized, looking up at his brother.
"So if we find the hook..." Sam trailed off.
"We stop the Hook Man," he and Dean finished. They shared a smile.
"Wait, does that mean...?" Dean started to ask then groaned.
"Yup. It means we hit the library," Hannah answered for him. "Oh, don't give me that look, Dean. Researching isn't that bad."
"Speak for yourself," he muttered. "Let's just get this over with."
"That's the spirit!" Hannah grinned. She heard Sam laugh behind her as she and Dean led the way out of the hospital.
"Here's something, I think," Dean spoke up. He was fiddling with his pencil when Hannah lifted her head, having been reading through several passages of the different books they found in the library. "Logbook, Iowa State Penitentiary. 'Karns, Jacob. Personal affects: disposition thereof'."
"Does it mention the hook?" Sam asked. Hannah leaned forward in her chair so she could see Dean. She sat on Sam's left at the table while Dean was on his right.
"Yeah, maybe." Dean skimmed the page before reading it aloud. "'Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas Church'."
She creased her eyebrows. "Isn't that where Lori's father preaches? Where Lori lives?"
"Yeah." Dean nodded, while Sam frowned. "Maybe that's why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends' daughters for the past 200 years."
"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might've seen it?" Sam questioned, glancing at Dean and Hannah. "I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?"
"I'll go check the church records," Hannah decided, standing up. She went over to the desk where the librarian was and asked for the church records. The librarian sighed, but got up and went to fetch the records for Hannah.
Twenty minutes later, the librarian walked up to their table with a relatively old looking record book. Hannah rifled through the records until she found something related to what they were researching.
"'St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary'," Hannah read then frowned. "Oh, this is going to suck."
"What?" Sam and Dean both asked.
"They melted it down and made it into something else," Hannah answered, looking up from the records.
"Alright, we can't take any chances," Dean said, closing the book in front of him. "Anything silver goes in the fire."
"I agree. Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break in," Sam told them as he started to put everything away. Hannah helped him and the three left the library. They stopped by the frat house to retrieve their duffel bags before heading to the church.
It was a short drive to St. Barnabas Church, and the sun was low in the sky when they arrived. Hannah was familiar with breaking into houses; it was one of the first things she learned as a hunter; but breaking into a church seemed sinful.
Oh well, it's for a good cause, Hannah thought as she climbed out of the backseat. She accepted the pistol Dean handed to her, tucking it in the inside pocket of her jean jacket.
"Alright, take your pick," Dean said to Sam.
"I'll take the house," Sam decided.
"Where should I go?" Hannah asked, glancing at them.
"You're with me," Dean told her. "Hey, Sam." Sam paused on his way to the Sorensens' house. "Stay out of the underwear drawer."
Sam gave him a blank look, but said nothing as he turned away and kept walking towards the house. Hannah rolled her eyes and followed Dean inside the church. He could be so immature at times.
After breaking into the church, she and Dean grabbed anything that looked remotely silver and carried it downstairs to the basement. Dean opened the door where the fire was being contained and they tossed everything in there. About ten minutes later, Sam found them with a bag of silver.
"I got everything that even looked silver," Sam said as he tossed some jewelry into the fire.
"Better safe than sorry," Hannah remarked, helping him.
There were footsteps coming from upstairs. She looked at them, and Dean motioned for her and Sam to follow him upstairs. Despite the church being dimly lit, Hannah could see someone sitting in a pew alone. She realized it was Lori after recognizing her sobbing. Dean lowered his gun and Sam walked over to Lori.
"I'll guard. Just in case the Hook Man comes," Hannah whispered to Dean. He nodded and headed back downstairs.
She half listened to Sam and Lori's conversation, her frown deepening the more she heard Lori's guilt. Hannah touched the handle of her pistol when she heard a noise. She hurried over to where Sam and Lori were the louder the noise became.
"Sam—" Hannah gasped sharply when the flames in the candles went out. She pulled out her pistol and cocked it.
"We need to get to the basement," Sam said. He gestured for her and Lori to follow him.
Sam opened the door leading down to the basement and a hook suddenly lunged through the door. Lori screamed behind them and Sam yelled at them to run back. Hannah flinched each time the Hook Man smashed something with his hook.
The Hook Man materialized in the back room they retreated to and swung at Sam. Hannah dropped her gun and shoved Sam out of the way just as the hook was about to sink itself in his shoulder. It instead stabbed her in her left shoulder. The Hook Man disappeared, but he dragged Lori on her back across the floor.
"Hannah!" Sam shouted when Hannah stopped screaming. She clutched her shoulder, her whole body trembling from the pain and the feel of blood seeping out of her wound.
"Go to Lori!" Hannah cried. He nodded and ran over to Lori, asking if she was okay.
Hannah was about to go over to them, but an invisible force knocked Sam backwards into a wall. She widened her eyes when she saw Sam get up and maneuvered himself behind the Hook Man.
"Sam!" shouted another voice. Hannah whirled and saw Dean with his shotgun raised. "Drop!"
Sam crouched and Dean shot at the Hook Man once. He disappeared into dust. Dean jogged over to them, his eyes widening when he saw Hannah's shoulder.
"I thought we got all the silver," Hannah panted then winced. It pained her to move her shoulder.
"Well, we obviously didn't," Dean snapped, eyeing her shoulder.
"We must have missed something," Sam said, stating the obvious.
They all looked around, wondering if they missed something silver in this room. Sam turned to Lori and his eyes fell to her chest. Hannah almost scoffed, but then she noticed what he was staring at.
"Lori, where did you get that chain?" Sam questioned, still breathing heavily.
"My father gave it to me."
"Where'd your dad get it?"
"He said it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started school."
"Is it silver?"
"Yes!"
Sam ripped the chain off from around Lori's neck. Hannah froze when she heard a long scratch coming from the hallway. The Hook Man was invisible now and was scratching the wall. He tossed the chain to Dean who in return tossed him the shotgun before running to the basement.
Hannah crawled backwards to where Lori sat, still clutching her bloodied shoulder. Sam shot blindly at the wall, but the Hook Man still scratched the wall with his hook. Lori was shaking next to her, fear plain on her face.
The Hook Man appeared and knocked the shotgun out of Sam's hands. He dodged an incoming swipe of his hook, and crawled over to where Hannah and Lori sat. Hannah's jaw clenched, hating that she couldn't do anything as well as the pain in her shoulder.
He raised his hook and Hannah moved so she covered Lori. She waited for the hook to make contact, but it didn't. She looked up, and saw that the raised hook was melting while the rest of his form burned into nothing.
"It's gone," Lori whispered in amazement.
"Here." Sam helped Hannah stand. "Hannah, I don't... I don't know what to say."
"A thank you would suffice," she told him primly. Sam chuckled, and he looked up the same time she did when they heard someone walked over to them. It was Dean, panting from running around.
"Are you okay?" he asked her.
"I will be as soon as the paramedics look at me," Hannah replied with a tired smile.
The paramedics and police arrived twenty minutes later. The police were questioning Sam, Dean, and Lori nearby while a paramedic fixed up her shoulder. Hannah thanked the paramedic who helped her and trudged over to the Impala where Dean leaned against the passenger door.
She leaned against the car, their arms touching. Dean looked down at the bandage.
"I'm fine, you know," Hannah said, crossing her arms and looking up at him.
"Sam told me what happened. Are you crazy?" Dean questioned, tilting his body so he'd face her.
"He was about to get hooked," Hannah said, shrugging. "He's like my brother. I have his back just like you have his."
Dean regarded her with an unreadable expression on his face. Before he could say anything, Sam came over to them.
"You sit in the front, Han," Sam said then smiled softly. "Thanks again."
"Anytime—well, hopefully not anytime," Hannah replied. She shared a smile with Sam who then went in the backseat. Hannah slid into the passenger seat and as she buckled her seatbelt, she noticed Lori through the side view mirror.
"We could stay," Dean offered, noticing the sad look on Lori's face as well. Sam shook his head in response. "Hey, Princess, did you get to see a naked pillow fight at the sorority house?"
"No! I was at the library the whole time, remember?" Hannah reminded him. She turned around in her seat to look at Sam, hoping to wipe the disappointed look off his face. "Sam, are you aware that your brother likes to teach underage girls how to play pool at biker bars?"
"No." There was an amused look on Sam's face. "Mind elaborating, Dean?"
The rest of the drive out of Ankeny, Iowa was spent in laughter and rock music.