Chapter Seven - La Llorona

Dean fell into the Impala, flopping behind the wheel with a groan. He rubbed at his face, trying to erase the irritation and anxiety that came with having to deal with civilians and protect them from what essentially boiled down to their own stupidity. At least now - after two freaking days of idiocy - he had a halfway accurate description of events from the youngest kid, whatever his name was.

Dean glanced at the time on his phone and sighed. He needed to know more, and quickly. He didn't know when the monster would strike next, and that meant the whole town was at risk. Dean pulled himself upright behind the wheel and dug out his map.

"Library, library..." Dean muttered to himself, scouring the map for any hint of what he wanted. He scanned left to right, top to bottom, starting right in the centre of the town. When he finally spotted a promising looking symbol, he grinned, only to swear violently when he realised that it was ten minutes' drive from the town. More of his day, wasted!

"Bloody Ass-Crack Nebraska," Dean muttered to himself, scowling as he tore up the asphalt, making the ten minute journey in six. If he missed opening hours and had to wait, Dean swore he'd give up and go hook up with Bright Eyes instead.

Luckily, he managed to get into the library without causing serious injury to himself or others, despite his frustration, and found himself settled in front of a computer with about an hour and twenty minutes leeway before a librarian would ask him to leave.

Dean immediately began pulling all the information he could find on the town and the mysteriously disappearing children. Dean scanned every article as thoroughly as he could with a time limit. His scowl grew darker and darker as everything he could find just reiterated what he already knew.

Every time it was the same. Two kids, a few years apart in age, would disappear somewhere between the churchyard and home, only to show up a few days later either beaten and bloody or dead. Dean couldn't even pin where the thing was hiding out, and all the kids were seen in different place last, too far away for a typical ghost to be able to follow, and the wounds didn't fit any other kind of creature.

Not one that'd leave behind so much meat, anyway.

Dean growled and buried the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to massage away the growing headache. Honestly, was nothing ever easy?!

Dean heaved himself up and slouched over to the mythology section of the library, pulling out as many as he thought would be of importance. Toting half a dozen heavy books back to his seat, Dean dumped the books on the table with a muted thump and parked his ass down at the table, completely ignoring the irritated looks and frosty shushing aimed his way. He didn't have time to place nice with the local fruit-bats and librarians that looked like lizards - seriously, who even had eyes that far apart?

Dean pored over the tomes, trying to find anything that seemed like it'd be useful. Immediately he discarded the obvious no-gos - werewolves, vampires, and demons were all out - and settled in to focus on the more likely creatures. Over the next hour Dean managed to shelve ideas of it being a witch or shifter as well - there weren't enough signs to indicate that it was anything like that.

Hell, there weren't enough signs to indicate anything.

Dean groaned, leaning back in his rickety chair and running a hand down his face in exhausted frustration. How difficult could this possibly be?!

Swearing under his breath, Dean contemplated - not for the first time - giving this one up for bust and just calling Dad. The idea was abhorrent - the safety of this village in Bumfuck nowhere almost not worth the disappointed lectures and quiet (but totally not) huffing.

Leaning back even further, Dean let his mind wander, hoping inspiration would strike.

He imagined himself in a bar, flirting happily with a pair of gorgeous playboy-bunny-esque women. A grin spread lazily across Dean's face and he settled back to see where his mind was headed. As the fantasy played out two women became one, who lost her ridiculous heels and tiny dress in favour of skinny jeans and doc martins. She shrank, huge chest becoming flat and dainty, blonde hair curling wildly over thin shoulders and staining an inky black. By the time Dean noticed the changes, he was staring into the dazzling green eyes of a cheekily grinning Harry. Dean sighed, shifting in his uncomfortable library chair - the beautiful man somehow managed to weasel his way into Dean's head constantly since that first, amazing night.

Dean cast his mind back to the last time they had spoken - the phone call before this bloody hunt. Even with all the bullshit of an overprotective Dad and a stupid hunt in the middle of nowhere, it was so easy to just relax and enjoy himself with the Quirky Name Club, even if it was just over the phone.

Dean couldn't believe he was admitting it, even to himself, but he missed them. All of them. Harry, who was goddamn perfect in about every way, Draco, who was a sarcastic asshole, but the funniest damn guy Dean had ever met, Hermione, who was beautiful and smart and obviously the mother hen of them all, and Luna, sweet, hilarious Luna….

Luna.

Dean sat bolt upright in his chair, causing it the grind against the wooden floorboards. Ignoring the annoyed hissing from the lizard-librarians, Dean scrambled for paper. Luna had said something, right? Said it would help. Harry had passed along a name and something about children.

With the amount of kids getting hurt, Dean was beyond desperate enough to try anything.

Psychics existed, right? So Luna could have been channeling some mystic mumbo-jumbo or something. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Dean to go on, especially when he had nothing else. Dean tapped his chewed pen on the half scribbled on page of his notebook, trying frantically to remember what the hell Harry had called it. La-La something or other…

La Ler?

La Lar?

La Lor?

La Llorona. That was it.

Hurling the pen halfway across the room in his haste, Dean yanked the largest and oldest myth book in front of him and flipped to the index - and thank Christ there even WAS an index - to hunt down any trace of the creature Luna had set him on.

There it was. Finally, there it was, staring him in the face.

La Llorona. Weeping Woman. A type of ghost that kidnapped kids, looking for their own offspring.

It was a ghost, a creepy ghost that hunted down and hurt children, but a ghost.

Dean whooped. He'd solved it! All he needed to do now was find the lady that died, and then burn the remains and he'd be done and out of this godforsaken town and done. Dean stacked his used books in a trolley designed for returns and hauled ass towards the newspaper section, hoping to God he could find the right lady before the library closed in fifteen minutes.

Scanning through the front pages of every newspaper he could find - because a lady killing her kids and then killing herself wasn't gonna be anything other than front page news - Dean swore to himself that when he got a chance to catch up with the Quirky Name Club again, he was gonna kiss Luna so damn hard she'd fall over. He could feel the near maniacal grin spreading across his face at the thought of finally being out of this town and away from this hunt, tearing through the newspapers closest to the time that kids started getting hurt.

Finally, with three minutes left before the lizard people threw him out (and holy crap they were looking the most ugly combination of revolted and furious, Dean was impressed), Dean finally found it. The newspaper he needed.

Dean's eyes took in the image of the woman who stabbed her two sons, before killing herself not even three months before the kidnappings started. Apparently she had hallucinations and thought the kids were burglars when they came in for snacks or something. Dean couldn't help but feel bad for the family, but he shoved it aside in favour of the name that was his salvation.

Jennifer Frasier.

He knew who to look for now. Even knew where to look, thanks to the last page of the article that declared the whole family buried in Cedar Creek's cemetery. Dean put the newspaper back and raced back to his things, gathering them up just as the librarians descended.

"The library is closed, please leave," the eldest one hissed. Dean thanked the dinosaur lady with a bright smile and he headed for the door. Not even Librarians from Hell could kill his mood right now.

"And never come back!" Dean heard one of the younger librarians shout after him, and started laughing.

He was stuck in Ass-Crack Nebraska for another night, he'd been banished from the only library in a dozen mile radius, he was tired and aching and so over this hunt, but he'd never been happier. By tomorrow that ghost would be gone, the town would be safe, Dean would be a hero, and he could call Harry again.

Hell, he might even get to pop in on them on his way to catch Dad in Ohio.

Dean threw his things on the backseat and hurled himself into the Impala. He kissed the steering wheel joyously before turning over the engine and speeding back towards the town. The sun was going down, making way for a new moon, and Dean pulled up outside the cemetery just as the sky was going dark.

Thankfully, the cemetery was closed for the night and everyone had gone home, so Dean was able to sit in his car with his favourite tape playing, waiting for it to be late enough to break in. He had his lighter, gasoline, salt, shovel, everything he could possibly need to gank the son - sorry, daughter - of a bitch. The clock in his car ticked over to eleven, and Dean set out to work, whistling as he jumped the gate.

It took ten minutes to find the right grave, and nearly four hours to dig the old girl up, but finally Dean was staring down at the decayed face of Cedar Creek's Weeping Woman. He silently, solemnly, poured salt and gas over the body, before flicking on his lighter. He took a deep breath, sent a silent farewell to Jennifer Frasier, and lit a gas-soaked stick which he threw into the grave. Dean watched her burn, ignoring the smell of rotting, burning flesh, and winced at the wailing he could hear faintly on the breeze.

The fire died down within ten minutes, the emaciated body being quick to burn, and Dean set about covering her back up. Filling in the graves always took less time than digging them up, but it was still nearly sunrise when Dean finally packed down the grass he had carefully removed so as to not leave anything out of place. Heaving a deep sigh, Dean packed his things into his duffel bag and staggered back towards his car. Digging alone was always enormously exhausting, and Dean was glad he'd rented the room for a week.

Dean drove back to the motel, lugged his things into his room, and flopped face-first onto the bed with a gut-busting groan. He knew that he was going to sleep for most of the day - relished in the knowledge, even - but first he had someone to call.

Rolling onto his back, Dean pulled out his phone and hit the contacts section. One little green phone button later and Dean was listening to the ever familiar and oddly soothing dial tone. He didn't have to wait long before someone answered.

"Greetings, you have reached the phone of Harriet Peterson. Sadly, she is currently stuffing her face with pizza and is unable to answer. This is Draco, how may I help you?"

Dean, overtired and aching, laughed his head off at the muffled sounds of indignation and teasing in the background of Draco's snooty speech. It took a few minutes before he calmed down enough to answer.

"Hi Draco, it's Dean -"

"Ah, Mister Pretty! How fares your face?"

Dean snorted at the reminder of their last (and first) meeting.

"Just as deserving of praise as before. Where's Harry?"

"Still stuffing his face with pizza, hang on a moment."

Dean grinned as he listened to the sounds of Draco scolding someone, distant snickering, an overdramatic swallowing sound, and finally Harry's voice was there, soothing any of the remaining stress that Dean had.

"Well hello there, Mister Pretty. Two calls in two days, I feel special."

"You are special, Harry," Dean retorted, smiling goofily. "Straight jacket special."

Dean heard Harry laugh, before asking what he wanted.

"I'm just calling in to say Luna's advice was really helpful, and I'm all done here in Nebraska. I just, I don't know…" Dean trailed off. He wasn't even sure why calling Harry was his first thought. He should be texting Dad then sleeping for ten hours, and yet here he was, still covered in muck from the cemetery, wasting phone minutes on a group of wonderful people he hardly knew.

"So you're done in Ass-Crack?" Harry sounded amused, and a little smug. Dean guessed that Harry knew, somehow, that he'd been the first port of call. "Then how about to come by our place? Have a coffee?"

"Your place?" Dean only just managed to spit out, instead of an immediate yes.

"The place 'Mione and I share with Luna, and occasionally Draco and Gin. It's in St Louis, Missouri."

Dean couldn't believe his luck - that was on the way to Ohio!

"I can be there tomorrow afternoon, maybe spend the night before I head on through to Ohio?" Dean offered, heart racing.

"Perfect!" Harry sounded beyond ecstatic, and Dean couldn't help the warm fuzzies in his chest - which were totally from a lack of sleep, and not from the way Harry's excitement made his voice husky. "Ginny's popping in tomorrow morning, we were gonna have a movie night. You can join us!"

"Sounds amazing! I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"I look forward to it, Mister Pretty."

"Until then, Bright Eyes."

Dean hung up the phone and spent a good few minutes grinning stupidly at the ceiling. Life just couldn't get any better. He quickly shot Dad a text saying he'd sorted out Cedar Creek and was on his way to Ohio after some sleep, before rolling over and closing his eyes, ignoring his mud-splattered clothes.

He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

~.~.~

AN -

FINALLY.

I'm finally finished with this chapter! I've been stuck on it for months! Oh God I'm so happy!

I'm so, so sorry for how long it's been - I have so many excuses, but in the end it all boils down to real life getting in the way, combined with the mother of all writing blocks.

BUT I'm back on track and still absolutely in love with this story, my baby :)

I was going to wait until I had a few chapters sorted, but it's been so long and I'm so excited that I'm just throwing it up now. Thanks to everyone who still reads this story, and I promise it won't be so long before I get the next chapter up (it'd be pretty hard to actually take that long again, goddamn).

And so, please accept my apologies and my offering of the longest chapter of this story thus far!

Thanks again my lovely readers, and I'll catch y'all on the flip side.

Z