Chapter 10: Skin
We pulled up to the gas station. Sam was scrolling through his contacts, checking out his messages on his palm pilot, while Dean was telling us what was next on the hunt.
"All right, I figured we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head South by Bisbee by midnight," Dean said to Sam.
I leaned up from my seat, and looked at Dean, "And that's going to bring us to your dad? And your dad can help me move on?" I still held onto that hope, remembering what Dean had said to me.
"Maybe," Dean shrugged. "Hopefully. It's a start."
We both turned our heads to Sam who was not very responsive to his brother. Dean gave me a look, rolling his eyes. "Sam Winchester wears women's underwear."
I smiled inwardly, turning my head at Sam and grinned, and eyed him up and down. "No he doesn't, he wears boxers."
"Could've gone a whole lifetime without knowing that," Dean muttered.
"Do yourself a favor, don't die, and haunt a college student's apartment," I said.
Dean chuckled at that. "Don't die. Copy that."
"I've been listening," Sam said distractedly. "Just busy."
Dean narrowed his eyes a bit and moved his head as if to be a little nosy. "Busy doing what?"
"Reading e-mails," Sam replied, clearly distracted.
Dean climbed out of the car and walked over to the gas pump. He started to get the gas ready so that he could put gas in the car.
"E-mails from who?" Dean asked. Sam's window had been down so they could talk and I could listen.
"From my friends at Stanford," Sam said.
I perked up a bit at the mention of Stanford.
Dean gave Sam a look. "You're kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"
"Why not?" Sam asked as if it shouldn't be a big deal.
"Well, what exactly do you tell them? You know, about where you've been, what you've been doing?"
"I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my big brother," Sam replied. "I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess."
"Oh, so you lie to 'em." '
"No, I just don't tell 'em everything," Sam cringed slightly.
I shook my head. Lie. But I'd probably do the same if I were in Sam's shoes. I wouldn't want anyone knowing this life. It was far too dangerous for the average crowd. Sometimes I wish I never knew about this life. But unfortunately, I had no choice, and I just had to deal.
"Yeah, that's called lying," Dean said. "I mean, hey man, I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse."
"So, what am I supposed to do just cut everyone out of my life?" Sam asked incredulously.
Dean shrugged.
"Seriously?"
That seemed…harsh.
"Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period," Dean said.
Sam narrowed his eyes in thought. "You're kind of anti-social you know that?"
"Yeah, whatever," Dean rolled his eyes.
"God…" Sam breathed out suddenly, eyes focused on a particular e-mail. It'd caught my attention along with Dean's.
"What?" Dean asked.
"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine," Sam said.
"Is she hot?" Dean asked nonchalantly.
I fought to roll my eyes. Typical. Sam didn't reply to that so I just smiled.
"I went to school with her and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but the cops have a pretty good case," Sam explained.
"Dude, what kind of people are you hangin' out with?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head. "No, man, I know Zack. He's no killer."
"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you," Dean shrugged.
"They're in St. Louis," Sam said. "We're going."
Dean chuckled. "Look, I'm sorry about your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem."
Sam gave him a stern look. "It isour problem. They're my friends."
"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam," Dean complained.
They stared at each other and I threw my hands up in the air. "Let's just go. Check it out. I don't mind helping another person," I said. "Sides, maybe you can get her number or something," I smirked at Dean.
Dean raised his eyebrows at me and I shrugged. He sighed with utter annoyance and took out the pump out of the car's gas pocket. He finally got into the car once all that was settled. Sam looked at me in the rear view mirror and mouthed a 'thank you' to me. I shrugged. No problem…
~*SPN*~
Rebecca's house was very nice to say the least when we drove up to it. We piled out of the car and headed towards the front door. She opened it up and I smiled at her presence. I always thought Jess and Sam were one of a kind item, and never knew Sam to have many friends at school. So it was nice to see he socialized too. Rebecca was tall and blonde. She seemed really nice too.
"Oh my god, Sam!" She exclaimed happily.
"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam teased.
"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap," she teased him, sending him a scolding look. She smiled anyway and hugged him tight. He hugged her back and I watched awkwardly, standing near Dean, as we remained silent.
"I got your e-mail," Sam said.
"I didn't think that you would come here," she said, pulling a blonde strand over her ears as she pulled apart and looked at Dean. He stepped forward and offered her a handshake.
"Dean. Older brother."
She shook his hand. "Hi," she said.
"Hi," Dean grinned.
"We're here to help," Sam assured her. "Whatever we can do."
"Come in," Rebecca said, offering the boys inside. I quickly followed them into the really nice suburban house. Dean closed the door behind him once I was inside.
"Nice place," Dean said, looking around as we ventured further in.
"It's my parents. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened," she replied. "I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."
Nice sister, I thought with a small smile even though she couldn't see it, and she definitely didn't notice that I was present.
"Where are your folks?" Sam asked.
"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial," she led us into the kitchen. "Do you guys want a beer or something?"
"Hey-"
"No thanks," Sam quickly cut him off. "So, tell us what happened?"
Rebecca sighed and looked at Sam, preparing herself to explain the ordeal that suddenly became her reality. "Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing," tears started to form from her eyes, but she continued, taking a deep breath, "So, he called 911, and the police- they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police- they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight."
"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack's house," Sam said.
"We could," Dean nodded.
"Why? I mean what could you do?" She asked worriedly.
"Well me, not much," Sam said, and then flicked his eyes at his brother. "But Dean's a cop."
Dean let out a laugh. "Detective, actually."
I rolled my eyes. "Right," I muttered.
"Really?" Rebecca asked hopefully. I frowned. Poor girl, getting her hopes up over a fake detective. "Where?"
"Bisbee, Arizona. But I'm off-duty now," Dean said.
I smirked. Bisbee, huh?
"You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just….i don't know," she said warily.
"Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this," Sam said. "Now, we have to find away to prove that he's innocent."
"Okay. I'm gonna go get the keys," She said. She walked away and down the hall adjacent to the kitchen.
"Oh yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends," Dean scoffed.
"Look, Zack and Becky need our help," Sam turned to Dean.
"I just don't think this is our kind of problem," Dean said.
"Two places at once?" Sam asked. "We've looked into less."
"It might not hurt to try," I said, hating the idea of an innocent man going to jail for something he didn't do.
~*SPN*~
Dean pulled up beside Zack's house along the curb. Rebecca sat beside me, though she had no clue I existed. It sucked being dead. I might be able to reveal myself to her, but the boys have warned me that that might not settle well with her just yet. She was already freaking out about her brother going to jail for something he didn't do. So no parlor tricks allowed. I had to be quiet.
"You're sure this is okay?" Rebecca asked Dean as we got out of the car.
"Yeah. I am an officer of the law," he said as a matter of fact, as we walked up to the house and got into his place.
I looked around the house, looking inside by the threshold of the front door. It was another nice one. I could never afford something like that. I was swimming in debt as it was with college loans, etc. I then noticed the blood on the walls and the furniture and frowned. This was not good.
"Bec, you wanna wait outside?" Sam asked.
"No," she shook her head. "I wanna help."
She ducked under the caution yellow police tape and entered. I stepped through the tape and continued to stare at the blood that possibly belonged to Emily's.
"Tell us what the police said," Sam said gently. He was so gentle with the victims of these types of cases. He really could have been a good lawyer. He generally cared about them.
"Well, there's no sign of a break-in," she said, tearing up again. "They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers-they're already talking about plea bargain. Tears sprang freely from her eyes. "Oh, God…"
"Look, Bec, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?" He asked.
She shook her head, but then looked at Sam thoughtfully, "Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes- Zack's clothes. The police-they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed."
Sam nodded and walked away for a minute. Dean walked over to the front door and noticed the dog barking loudly. I spun around and peered at it, narrowing my eyes at the dog. "You know, that used to e the sweetest dog," she said, coming up behind us.
"What happened?" Dean asked.
"He just changed," she shrugged.
"Do you remember when he changed?"
"I guess around the time of the murder," she said. He looked at her and then me before he walked away.
I followed Dean down the hallway, where Sam was, admiring a frame of Zack, Rebecca, and Sam. They looked so happy in that picture, it made me smile.
"So, the neighbor's dog when psycho right around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed," Dean said.
"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam said.
"Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin'," Dean said.
"So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?" Sam asked.
"No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure," Dean said.
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"Yeah," Dean said as Rebecca walked over to join us. "So, the tape. The security footage, you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, 'cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction."
"I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop," she said, making Dean laugh. "I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."
"All right," he said and we left the crime scene to go check out the footage.
~*SPN*~
Back at Rebecca's parent's house, we found ourselves in the living room watching the security footage. I leaned down on the armrest next to Dean.
"Here he comes," she said.
Zack entered the house.
"22:04. That's just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30?" Dean asked.
"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with," Rebecca replied.
"Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?" Sam asked.
"Oh, sure," she said and got up to go inside the kitchen, leaving us alone. Sam turned toward her. "Hey, maybe some sandwiches, too?"
"What do you think this is, Hooters?" She asked, leaving the room.
"I wish," Dean sighed. He saw that Sam was standing closer to the footage of the TV. "What is it?"
"Check this out," he rewind the tape and then pressed play again. Zack looked directly at the camera. His eyes suddenly flared a silver color as if they'd turned to metal. He paused it there and I got a bad feeling about this shudder through me.
"Well, maybe it's just a camera flare," Dean shrugged.
"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul," Sam said.
"Right," Dean said.
"Remember that dog that was freakin' out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this this is some kind of dark double of Zack's, something that looks like him, but isn't him," Sam said.
I stepped closer and looked at the paused footage of Zack's eyes. I looked over at him.
"Like a Doppelganger," Dean and I said in sync. We looked at each other and I shrugged.
Sam nodded. "Yeah. It'd sure explain how he was two places at once."
~*SPN*~
Back to Zack's house the next morning. Sam had a hunch and wanted to figure it out. I slipped through the door, following Sam and Dean's side. We were behind the house so that no one saw us go in.
"All right, so what are we doin' here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean asked.
"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer goin' in, but not comin' out," Sam said.
Dean shrugged tiredly. "So, he came out the back door?" He leaned against the hood of his car.
"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue," Sam said.
"'Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside," Dean said. "I still don't know what we're doin' here at 5:30 in the morning."
"Tired?" I leaned in, teasing him.
"Shuddap," Dean rolled his eyes at me and I just grinned.
Sam glanced around his current surroundings before he spotted it. Blood by the telephone pole.
"Blood," Sam said, eyeing it. "Somebody came this way."
"Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here," Dean said, just when an ambulance drove past them down the road. Sam and Dean glanced at one another.
"That's gotta be an omen, or something right?" I asked them, glancing at them curiously as they got back into the car. I nodded. Yeah. I followed them back to the car.
~*SPN*~
We looked at the commotion happening at a nearby house. A young Asian was being handcuffed. He was a cute Asian too, but he looked upset and distraught and very confused about his current situation.
"What happened?" Dean asked after the man stepped into the police car.
"He tried to kill his wife," the woman beside us, who was also watching the scene with wide eyes. "Tied her up and beat her."
"Really?" Sam asked.
"I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like a nice guy," she replied.
"That's weird," I said, glancing at the boys. They nodded in silent agreement as we watched the young cute man get taken away from his house.
~*SPN*~
"Nothing remotely helpful to the case, huh?" I asked quietly as we looked around. Sam shook his head. We made our way back to the front of the house.
"Hey," Dean said. We spun around to face him. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"Definitely our kind of problem," Dean said.
"What'd you find out?" Sam asked.
"Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy. Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked," Dean said.
"Well, that's something," I said, trying to be positive. "I mean he's way too cute to go to jail."
Sam smirked at me and I grinned. "So, he was at two places at once," Sam said.
"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob," Dean said.
"Figures," I muttered.
"Could be the same thing doin' it too," Sam thought for a brief moment. "Shapeshifter?" Dean shrugged at the suggestion. "Something that can make itself look like anyone?"
"Or anything?" I asked, slightly terrified. Sam nodded at me.
"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore," Dean said. "You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."
"Right. Skinwalkers, werewolves," Sam added.
"Roux-ga-roux," I said.
They both gave me a weird look.
"What, I know things too," I grinned at them. Mostly from the book Blood and Chocolate, but that was my little secret. "I'm not just a pretty face."
"Yeah, that pretty face is becoming paler by the second," Sam indicated.
"Says the one who decided to drive all the way back to St. Louis putting us back even further from the hunt," I said as a matter of fact.
"Okay," Dean stepped in, getting back on track. "Listen. We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessin' we've got a shapshifter prowlin' the neighborhood."
Sam inhaled and then glanced at Dean, getting an idea. "Let me ask you this. In all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?"
"Not that I know of," Dean shook his head.
"I picked up a trail here," Sam said. "Someone ran out the back of the building and headed off this way."
"Just like your friend's house," Dean said.
"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean whatever it is, just disappeared."
"Well, there's another way to go…down," Dean said, glancing down at the sole of his boot. Sam and I looked down at the sewer cap.
Ewe.
~*SPN*~
"You know if I were alive, this would be the worst part of the job," I said, standing in the dark, waiting for Sam and Dean to climb down with their flashlights.
"Thiswould be the worst part of the job?" Dean asked.
I nodded. "Yeah. Basically."
"Never mind the killings…its done or anything," Sam said.
"Okay, so yes, the killings are bad too, obviously. I mean it really sucks. I'm just saying I don't think anyone in their right mind would choose this life," I said.
"No offense," I added.
"None taken," they said in sync. Sam looked around for a bit.
"I bet this runs right by Zack's house too," Sam said, glancing down the tunnel. "The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around."
"I think you're right. Look at this," Dean said. They walked over to a heap of blood and skin on the ground.
"Ugh. Gross….is he…" I didn't even want to say it. I was just thankful I couldn't smell it.
"Is this from his victims?" Sam asked.
Dean pulled out a small pocketknife and lifted some of the shredded skin against the blade, showing it to us.
"You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds," he said.
"Oh, God," I groaned.
"That is sick," Sam agreed.
"Ewe," I frowned.
He flicked the skin back and snapped his knife shut, flicking it back into his pocket.
~*SPN*~
Finally we were out of the sewer and back to the car. Dean was pulling out weapons from the back trunk.
"Well, one thing I learned from Dad is that no matter what kind of shapshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it," Dean said.
"Silver bullet to the heart," Sam said.
"That's right," Dean nodded.
"Well, at least that's easy," I said.
Dean smirked at me. "The not easy part is trying to track it."
"A needle in a giant haystack?" I asked.
"Pretty much," Dean nodded.
Sam's cell started to ring. He answered it, pulling it out of his pocket,
"This is Sam."
"Where are you?" Rebecca asked.
"We're near Zack's, we're just checkin' some things out," Sam said.
"Well, look, Sam, just stop. 'Cause I really don't need your help anymore," Rebecca said.
"What are you talkin' about?" Sam asked.
"I told the lawyers that we went to the crime scene," Rebecca said.
Sam scoffed. "Why would you do that?"
"Well, I told them that we were with a police office. And they checked it out, and they told me that there is no Detective Dean Winchester," she said.
"Bec-"
"No. I don't understand why you would lie to me about something like that," Rebecca said.
"We're tryin' to help," Sam said.
"Oh, trying to help? Do you realize that that was a sealed crime scene? This could have just ruined Zack's case," Rebecca cried.
Sam tried to explain, "Bec, I'm sorry, but-"
"No, goodbye, Sam," she hung up, leaving Sam completely dumbfounded at what just happened.
"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about," Dean said quietly after that as Sam looked at his phone. "You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just…it'd be easier if-"
"If I was like you," Sam said.
"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. I mean how many guys travel around the road huntin' the supernatural with a ghost?"
Sam looked at me and I just shrugged. Yeah, I really needed to find that creature and find a way to get out of here.
"But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig-it ain't without perks," Dean said, holding up a gun to Sam. Sam reached for it and placed it in the back of his jeans, walking away from the impala. I smiled and followed after them.
~*SPN*~
Sewer. I wasn't a fan of it. But I was thankful that I couldn't smell a darn thing in this dark tunnel. Sam and Dean had their flashlights and guns out, totally reminded me of Mulder and Scully with X-Files. I used to love that show, but it really freaked me out, and I couldn't watch it in the dark. Walking with Sam and Dean through these hunts was kind of easy and a breeze because I was dead. I didn't really have to worry about dying, only worry about them dying, and I did on a daily business for the past couple weeks as we've been on this hunt thing for the creature that kept me here.
"I think we're close to its lair," Dean said, breaking my transit thoughts.
"Why do you say that?" Sam asked.
"Because there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face," Dean said, motioning a quick nod beside him. Sam turned around and looked at the pile of blood and shredded skin on a nearby pipe.
"Oh God," Sam and I said at the same time (Honestly I couldn't help it, it was utterly too disgusting not to keep quiet), not wanting to get closer. "Definitely like being a ghost better than a human, yep." I nodded at the eerie sight. What's worse? Human clothes right next to it.
"Looks like it's lived here for a while," Dean noted.
"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam asked as he observed the lair. And when Sam turned around he saw him. The shapeshifter. "Dean!" He cried out in alarm. Dean spun around and got a fist in the face by him. Dean took a terrible fall to the ground, and the shapeshifter ran away. Sam aimed his gun and shot it a couple times, missing him just slightly as he ran down the tunnel, sloshing water around him.
I watched worriedly. Sam went to take care of his brother, but Dean brushed him off. "Get the Son of a bitch!" He hollered at him as he got up from the ground. I wondered if he was okay, but he seemed to get right back up with Sam's help. We ran to follow the shapeshifter down the same tunnel.
"Why didn't you sense him?" Dean asked me.
"I don't know!" I cried. "He caught me off guard. Maybe he has that ability to absorb whoever he's shifting into, that person's persona to make it think that he isn't evil, so I couldn't detect him. I'm sorry."
We finally climbed up the ladder, realizing he must've done the same because it seemed rather quiet in the tunnels. We were on the empty quiet suburban streets, seeing nothing. I sensed nothing.
"All right, let's split up," Sam said.
"You sure that's a good idea?" I asked.
"Easier to catch this thing," he shrugged a shoulder as he replied to my worried question.
"All right," Dean nodded. "I'll meet you around the other side."
"I'll stay here, in case he comes this way?" I suggested.
Sam nodded. "Holler if you see him," he said.
I nodded, and stood by the sewer. I watched Sam and Dean take different directions. I personally thought they should stick together, but maybe Sam had a good idea. They could cover more ground, we could cover more ground. I could tell if the shapeshifter decided to switch skins again and take the sewer. Oh God. That sounded really wrong in my head. I shook my head at the terrible thought. First I'm a dead ghost, now I'm thinking like a hunter? A novice hunter at the most. A hunter-ish ghost? That sounded weird. Maybe I was just the helper. Yep. That was it. Just the helper. Cause as far as I was concerned the only real reason why Dean let me come was to get the creature, destroy it, let me go into the light or whatever, and help them occasionally to see if there was something evil nearby. Sort of. I don't know. That's what I thought. I needed to stop thinking. My mind needed to stop raging, racing a million miles a second. I wasn't a hunter. I was a ghost. I was dead. I wasn't living. I needed to get out of here. So I hoped the boys could find this guy and move on.
I decided the shape shifter wasn't going to head back to the sewer, so I walked back to the car, hoping the boys would be there, and have something to go on.
"Hey, you guys find anything?" I asked.
Sam looked over at me and shook his head. "No. You think he found another way underground? Maybe he saw you guarding the manhole."
I shrugged a bit and looked to Dean.
"Yeah, probably. You got the keys?" Dean asked.
Sam paused slightly and I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Hey, didn't Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" Sam asked.
"Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter. It was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?" Dean asked.
A thought form?
"Oh, right," Sam said with a small nod, and then tossed the keys to Dean. He caught the keys in his left hand, and walked over toward the back trunk. He lifted it up. I looked at Sam curiously. Sam motioned a quick nod over to me. Something was wrong. I could tell just by the look in his thoughtful eyes. I sauntered over to Dean, who'd let out a laugh.
"Don't move!" Sam shouted, holding his gun at him. Dean spun around and saw Sam's gun in his hand. "What have you done with him?"
"Dude, chill," Dean said, holding his hands in the air. "It's me, all right?"
"No, I don't think so. Where's my brother?" Sam demanded.
Dean gave me a look as if to read, 'can you believe this guy?'. And I probably would have replied with, 'Why I believe I can.'. I trust him more than you right now.
"You're about to shoot him. Sam, calm down," he said.
I watched back and forth between Sam and Dean.
"You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt," Sam observed.
"Yeah, it's better. What do you want me to do, cry?" He asked.
"You're not my brother," Sam shook his head.
Dean looked at him pointedly. "Why don't you pull the trigger, then? Hmm? Cause you're not sure. Dude, you know me."
I glanced worriedly between them, trying to identify the evil, but the persona was very strong.
"Don't," Sam warned through clenched teeth.
Dean suddenly picked up a crowbar, an iron crowbar from the trunk. I couldn't stop him because I knew iron would damage me if I ever touched it.
"Sam!" I yelled out, but he'd whacked him down on the ground, gun falling onto the ground.
I quickly walked over to Sam and tried to be brave, standing up to Dean, who wasn't Dean anymore.
"You're not Dean?" I asked, confusion etched into my small voice.
"No sweetheart," he said, tapping the palm of his hand with the crowbar. He stepped closer, and I shook, flickering in and out, static-y. I tried not to be scared. "I am not," And with that said, he swung the crowbar at me and I dissolved into a cloud of dust.
~*SPN*~
I let out a cry of agony as I wriggled my wrist against the iron shackles I was in against a pipe. I tried not to lean into the pipe either, afraid of what that might do to me. Ok, so being a ghost sucked, especially when shapeshifter psycho Dean edged the iron crowbar against my ribcage, if I were to have a ribcage. It still hurt like hot burning coal. Another shriek left my lips as the crowbar sliced into me. I must have sounded like a wailing banshee. Dust billowed away and sparks of fire and ember trickled down to the ground.
"You know your girlfriend's a real pain in the ass. She won't stay gone. So I had to chain her up. Although, I gotta say, a hunter and a ghost? That's a new one."
"We're not together," Sam and I said in sync.
He let out a hearty chuckle.
I glared at him seriously. "That would be weird."
"Oh? How's that?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I'm dead,you moron!"
He stuck the crowbar into my stomach and I tried not to cry out so much, and delve into the feelings that swirled within me, but I couldn't help it. Another shriek left my lips. "It's not nice to name call. You know real Dean wants to do this to you. He doesn't like you, and were much rather you've moved on."
I glared at him, struggling through my internal emotions as they were in turmoil and wrapped up in a dark cloud. "Well, you can tell him I'll be gone as soon as the creature that did this to me is dead, I promise," I said quietly.
Sam looked up and realized that he was in this weird small dusty room. He tried to move, but he couldn't. He was tied against a wooden post. His neck and hands were bound together.
"If she's such a pain in the ass, then why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Sam challenged him.
I looked over worriedly at Sam. "Sam no." I gritted my teeth together. Even with the slightest movement against the iron shackles, they cut into my wrists, leaving dust and fiery embers on my shoulder blades. Burning and pinching weird pain of hot iron burned right through me.
Shapeshifter Dean walked over, leaned down and smacked him across the face. Sam grunted with disgust, tilting his head to the side, easing the stinging pain he must've felt from the hard slap.
"Where is he? Where's Dean?" Sam asked.
I really hoped he had a plan somewhere in that Stanford-ridden head of his.
"I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you," Shapeshifter Dean replied.
"Where is he?" Sam grounded out, glaring up at him.
"You don't really wanna know," he chuckled. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family—I thought I came from a bad background," he said, pacing slowly back and forth as he spoke.
"What do you mean, learn?" Sam asked.
Shapeshifter Dean paused, and then clutched onto his head and for a minute we watched curiously, wondering what he was going to do until he let out a shout of agony of his own, making me jump. And I wished I hadn't, but I couldn't help it.
Sam and I looked at him with narrowed eyes, wondering what the hell he was seeing.
"He's sure got issues with you," he said to Sam. "You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"
"Where is my brother?" Sam demanded, a darkness tone edging out of his lips.
Shapeshifter Dean knelt closer to him so that his face was mere inches from him.
"I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me."
I frowned. Why did I feel like I could relate?
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.
"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me too. No explanation, nothin', just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks," he let out a dark laugh and my frown deepened. "I meet the nicest people. Like Little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let's see what happens," he smiled and threw a cover over Sam before he took off rushing.
"NO!" I yelled, but of course I was just a ghost so what could I do? And what were my perks, really?
Sam suddenly moved and shifted against the post. The coversheet fell off of him. I didn't want to escape my shackles, too afraid of getting hurt again. That iron hurts. I didn't know how to explain it except it was painful. As painful as a knife stabbing into a human's side I'd imagine and I didn't want to imagine that.
"Damn it," Sam cursed suddenly.
"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," I heard Dean's voice.
The real Dean?
I hoped it was. Sounded real.
"Yeah, it's me," Sam said.
The cover fell off of Dean's shoulders as he shifted in his spot behind the wooden post trying to get out of his restraints. The rope bit into his skin as he untied the knots, but he worked at his skill.
"He went to Rebecca's looking like you," Sam added.
"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one," Dean smirked.
Sam's face twisted with confusion.
"Yeah, that's the thing," Sam continued, ignoring that. "He didn't look just like you, he wasyou. Or he was becoming you."
Dean finally managed to get free of his ropes. They slid off his wrists.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories," Sam replied.
"You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, somethin' like that," Sam said. "I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't kill us."
He pushed himself off of the wooden post behind him and walked around to untie Sam's that were biting into his wrists.
"Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection," Dean said, untying the rope through one of the loops.
"Hands. Yeah. And, Melinda's already dead so there was no killing her, but she maybe she tried to stall him?" Sam asked, glancing over at me and I nodded.
"Yup. Guilty as charged," I said.
Then the boys turned around to face me and I looked at them worriedly.
"Just go, forget about me, you can leave me behind," I said with a slight nod of my head.
"We're not leaving a man behind," Sam said, looking up and down at the iron restraints against my own wrists.
"You mean ghost," I said quietly. I tried so hard not to move my wrists so that they didn't rub against the iron. It hurt too much, too much like a burn from the oven.
"Ok. This is gonna suck real bad, but I think you can walk through your shackles. Your injuries from the crowbar have already disappeared."
I widened my eyes at Sam. "Walk through? No, no way. You're right. That is going to suck."
"Melinda," Sam said, "All you got to do is yank out of them. Ghosts can walk through walls, you can certainly do this."
I looked up at my shackles, keeping me here. I let out a worried whimper before I decided that Sam was right. It'd been in my thoughts the whole time. Kind of like mind over matter. The only thing is that the iron was just going to burn me like burnt toast. I moved my fingers one by one slightly, trying to get the feel of their movements, and closed my eyes. Here goes nothing.
"Just like ripping off a band aid," Dean added. I gave him a slight look, like I wanted to vomit. If only.
I pushed my wrist forward, slicing through the iron shackle. I tried not to let out a cry as the burn sizzled into my soul. I tried to repeat over and over in my head that it didn't hurt, didn't hurt. I finally broke through the shackle, and looked down at my wrist, watching the fiery embers crackle and spark red and orange like fireflies. I wondered if the next one would be easier. I yanked down the other one, trying to break free faster so I didn't have to feel the burn, but the burn was still there. I let out a short yell from my lips as the iron cut into my soul.
"Ripping off a band aid, huh?" I asked Dean, and then narrowed my eyes at him. "You try getting tortured with a crowbar as a ghost, then we'll talk." I shook the fiery embers away with my hand. That was probably going to leave a mark. I wondered if it was going to like my two bullet holes I now had just above where my ribcage would be.
Dean smirked at me.
"Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Rebecca's already," Sam said, jumping out the window and down onto the street in the nighttime air.
I stepped through the brick wall, joining Sam and Dean's side after Dean fell in step with Sam after climbing the window. Sam and Dean ran through the alleyway, and when I went to run, I suddenly heard a swoosh sound behind me, and I suddenly found myself right beside the boys quickly, a lot more quickly than I anticipated.
They looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Super-speed?" They asked.
"I guess," I shrugged. "That's cool," I grinned.
"Yeah, ghosts are fast little bitches," Dean said, remembering ghost characteristics from his father's journal.
"Come on," Sam rolled his eyes. "We gotta find a phone, call the police."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're gonna put an APB out on me?" Dean asked, almost looking offended by that.
Sam shrugged. "Sorry."
"This way," Dean said. They ran down the street. As soon as they ran down to the end of the street, I pushed toward them with my super-speed. It was like I was a flickering film reel, a blur, right across the street. It was weird. But it was kind of fun. I had to use this newfound ability more often. It sure beat tearing through iron.
Eventually we found a payphone, (I didn't know these things still existed…they were becoming extinct.), and Sam called the police, hoping to catch the shape shifter in the act. Hoping that Rebecca was still alive. Once he did that we started walking again, trying not to stand out. Sam explained to me what an APB was because I'd been curious.
"It's similar to a KLO4, keep a look out." Sam added.
"Oh," I said.
Back to walking the streets for what it seemed like an hor, trying to stay low now that Dean was a suspect now thanks to the shapeshifter.
As we turned the corner, we spotted a store. Through the glass window, we could see that the news was on, reporting the incidents happening with the shape shifter, aka psycho Dean, on TV. We stood there watching the news report.
"An anonymous tip led the police to a home in Central West End, where a S.W.A.T. team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home," the news reporter explained. A rough sketch of Dean's face appeared beside the woman.
"Man! That's not even a good picture," Dean complained.
"Come on," Sam said, eyeing his surroundings as a couple of locals walked by them. They spun around and turned down the mouth of the alley. Dean stepped into a puddle, sloshing against his boot-covered ankle. "They said attempted murder. At least we know-"
"I didn't kill her," Dean finished for him grimly.
"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right," Sam said.
"All right, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him."
Sam stopped, suddenly, and so did I looking to him questionably.
"We have no weapons. No silver bullets."
"Sam, the guy's walkin' around with my face, okay, it's a little personal. I wanna find him," Dean said.
"Okay. Where do we look?" Sam asked.
"Well, we could start with the sewers," Dean suggested, making me wrinkle my nose a bit.
"We have no weapons," Sam reminded him. "He stole our guns, we need more….the car?"
"I'm bettin' he drove over to Rebecca's," Dean said.
"The news said he fled on foot. I bet it's still parked there."
"The thought of him drivin' my car," Dean bemoaned.
Sam rolled his eyes. "All right, come on."
"It's killin' me," Dean muttered beside him as we stated walking again. I couldn't help but lift the corners of my mouth into a small smile, feeling slightly better since the bit with the psycho shape shifter.
"Let it go," Sam said.
"It'll be okay, Dean," I chimed in. "Soon we'll find the weapons and then you can kill his sorry ass because at the end of the day, you're the one that'll be alive."
~*SPN*~
We found our way to Rebecca's house and the boys went in search for Dean's car. I followed them around the house.
Relief washed over his face when he saw his beauty, parked to the side of the house. "Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight!" He was about to run to her as if she'd run back to him, but he paused slightly when a police car slid its way beside the car. Beeping noises and flashing red lights made Sam and I pause next to Dean. "Oh, crap!" Then we spotted another car parked not too far away from us. "This way! This way!" We followed him over to a nearby fence.
"You go. I'll fend them off," Sam said.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked incredulously. "They'll catch you."
"Look, they can't hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca's," Sam said. Dean started to climb over the fence. "Dean," Sam said, stopping him short. "Stay out of the sewers alone." Dean didn't say anything in return. "I mean it!"
"Yeah, yeah!" He jumped over and landed on his feet, running away.
"He's gonna go for the sewers isn't he?" I asked, noticing how dead set on he'd been for it.
"I sure hope not," Sam said. "Come on," He motioned a quick nod over, but no sooner than did he turn was he facing a police officer with a gun pointed at his chest.
"Don't move! Keep your hands where I can see 'em," he ordered. Sam slowly raised his hands in the air and I frowned. Great. Got caught already.
I waited from afar when the police officer started to take Sam into his car. Sam was trying to tell the police officer his involvement with the case. It wasn't soon after that that Sam was released and heading back to me, where I hid in the shadows.
"Guess all that time studying in the Stanford library really paid off," I said.
"Heh. They sure did," he said. "Come on. We gotta get to Rebecca," Sam said.
We walked up to the front of the house. Sam knocked on the door. "What'd you tell the police?"
"That I was a friend, and helping with the case," Sam said with a small shrug of his shoulders.
Rebecca opened the door with a surprised look on her face. "Sam!" she cried and pulled him in for a hug. He hugged her back and I stood back at the human contact, slightly wishing I had any type of human contact. That'd feeling had been one of the drawbacks of being a ghost, and I didn't like it.
Rebecca graciously drew Sam in. I slipped in behind him. She offered Sam a beer, as we entered the living room. He sat down and I stood awkwardly by the fireplace.
She returned not a moment later with two beers, and handed one to Sam. He thanked her quietly and she sat across from him. Sam wanted to explain to Rebecca everything that had happened. The truth. The truth of what he did.
That had seemed to taken a whole beer for her to muster everything in and process it all. She excused herself for a moment to get a couple more beers and then return with two new ones.
"So, say this shape shifter is real. By the way, you know you're crazy? But, um, say it is real," she said, glancing at her beer before flicking her eyes to meet Sam's. "How do you stop it?"
She took away the empty beer Sam had and replaced it with the full beer.
"Thanks," Sam said, letting out a sigh at the tender notion that he'd called her crazy. "Silver bullet to the heart."
She got up from the couch, empty beer bottle in hand, and shook her head. "You are crazy," she said, and then spun around, and hit him on the head.
"SAM!" I cried out. It was within seconds that she'd did that. Rebecca turned to me and flicked her eyes, silver. "You son of a bitch!" I jumped up and went to push her, but she reached for the fire poker and swung at me, making me disappear again. Damn it.
~*SPN*~
By the time I returned, the shape shifter had changed its form back into Dean, and he was already tying up Sam's hands and feet against a chair. Sam noticed me, almost relieved that I was here.
"What are you gonna do to me?" Sam asked.
"Oh, I'm not gonna do anything. Dean will, though," the shape shifter replied.
I hid behind a wall so that shape shifter Dean didn't notice me.
"They'll never catch him," Sam said.
"Oh, it doesn't matter," the shape shifter said. "Murder in the first of his own brother? He'll be hunted the rest of his life," he picked up a sharp knife from one of the knives on the kitchen counter in a wooden container. He looked down at the sharp edge.
I wondered if now was my chance to help untie Sam, I was going to see if I could do that. He was digging around Rebecca's fridge for a beer. I sped next to Sam, and quietly muttered a, "Hey,". I leaned down to try and untie the rope from his ankles.
"I must say, I will be sorry to loose this skin. Your brother's got a lot of good qualities. You should appreciate him more than you do," he said coming into the living room with his poured drink. "Cheers," he added joyfully before taking a sip of his drink. I sped out of the way, once I'd gotten Sam's ankles untied, hoping he didn't see me. I could speed away in the blink of an eye so I should've been okay.
The shapeshifter picked up the knife he had held before and stabbed it into the green felt of the pool table that was adjacent to the living room. Sam lifted his free legs and kicked the shapeshifter down on the ground. Sam started to move his hands against the blade of the knife until I picked up the knife and cut him loose. He broke free. I handed the knife to him, seeing that the shape shifter was already up and charging after Sam. Sam swung the knife at his head, but the shapeshifter grabbed Sam's arm in mid-swing and twisted it. Sam yelled out in alarm and fell to the ground. "Oh, you son of a bitch," He hissed at him in Sam's ear. They engaged into a fight until Sam finally pinned him down. The shapeshifter smirked up at him. "Not bad, little brother."
"You're not him," Sam leaned in to say dangerously. The shapeshifter threw Sam against Rebecca's bookshelf, breaking it apart. The books toppled on top of Sam.
"Even when we were kids, I always kicked your ass," Shapeshifter Dean said.
He grabbed a pool cue from the side of the wall and slowly walked over to Sam. I super sped over to him, and threw my arms around him, but he shoved the cue pool stick right through me. I looked at the pool stick right through my stomach. I pushed right through it because it didn't stop me.
"You need something with iron, genius," I said. "If you were the real Dean, you'd know that."
"Okay," he said, stepping back with the pool stick in his hand, as I tried to get to him closer. He reached for an iron poker stick by the fire place and raised in the air. I stopped and grimaced.
"This is between me and Sam, ghostie," he said, swinging it at me.
"Awe crap," I muttered. I dissolved into dust, leaving them behind.
The shapeshifter continued his quest on Sam with the cue pool stick but missed, hitting a lamp instead. The lamp broke and crashed onto the floor.
"Hey!" Dean shouted at the shapeshifter. His double spun around, and he got off of Sam. Dean aimed his gun at the shapeshifcvter and shot him twice in the heart, making him fall to his death.
By the time I came back, I saw Dean had arrived, and I was so grateful that he'd made it. And the real Rebecca was right behind him.
"Sam!" Rebecca cried horridly as she spotted Sam on the floor in pain. She ran over to help him by the coffee table. Dean walked over to the shapeshifter, and saw that he was wearing hisnecklace. He tore it off his neck and clutched it into the palm of his hand. He looked over at Sam and Rebecca, and nodded before he looked to me. I gave him a grim smile when Rebecca noticed that I was present in the room.
~*SPN*~
The next day, Sam was talking to the real Rebecca Warren about his lifestyle and what he did with Dean on the road, hunting the supernatural, killing them, and saving people with a ghost that didn't move on to wherever she was supposed to go with her reaper. I sat in the impala, watching them have a human moment together again as they talked by the front door of her house. I could see their lips talking and moving.
"So, this is what you do? You and your brother, you hunt down these kinds of things?" Rebecca asked.
"Yeah, pretty much," Sam said.
"I can't believe it. I mean, I saw it with my own eyes. And that ghost, too!" She exclaimed. "And, I mean, does everybody at school, nobody knows that you do this?"
"No," Sam shook his head.
"Did Jessica know?"
Sam suddenly seemed to have a soulful yet thoughtful look on his face.
"No, she didn't," he replied gingerly.
"Must be lonely," she observed, hugging herself for warmth.
"Oh, no. No, it's not so bad. Anyway, what can I do? It's my family," he said.
She let out a laugh. "Well, you know, Zack and me, and everybody at school, we really miss you," she hugged him tight, and I smiled wistfully.
"Yeah, me too," Sam said. A hint of sadness was evident in his voice. He pulled apart from her.
"Well, will you call sometime?" She asked.
"It might not be for a little while," Sam said. She nodded, understanding him, and waved goodbye at Dean and me.
Dean and I waved back before she headed back inside the house. Sam walked back to the car and leaned into the open window.
"So, what about your friend, Zack?" Dean asked.
"Cops are blamin' this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zack's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon," he smiled. Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam opened the door, and slid into the passenger seat.
Dean pulled into the road, and started to drive down the highway. It'd been silence that had filtered the car, and for what it seemed like awhile, it was comfortable silence. I relished it until Dean suddenly opened his mouth.
"Sorry, man," Dean said.
"About what?" Sam asked.
"I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be…Joe College," Dean said.
"No, that's okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in," Sam admitted.
Funny, I thought, me either. I knew it the moment that Katherine started to hang around the new girl, Alison a bit more than I'd like, and I always wondered what I did wrong for her to hang out less with me.
"Well, that's 'cause you're a freak," Dean said with a smirk on his face.
"Yeah, thanks," Sam said.
"Well, I'm a freak too. I'm right there with ya, all the way," Dean said, making Sam laugh.
"Yeah, I know you are," Sam nodded. He looked up at the rear view mirror. "You gonna be freaks with us, Melinda?"
I blinked out of my stares, lost in my thought and the conversation. I couldn't help but smile at that. "Sure, why not? Already dead, so…you know, guess that's my perk," I said, feeling the corners of my lips curl into a wider smile. He smiled at me.
"You know, I gotta say, I'm gonna miss it," Dean said.
"Miss what?" Sam wondered.
"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?" Dean asked, sharing a small grin with Sam as he drove down the highway.
~*SPN*~