A/N: Thank you everyone for favoriting and following this story! It means a ton! And I'm extremely glad that you guys like that the romance is progressing slowly; it's mostly one-sided for now, but you'll see some changes towards the end of season one. Special thanks to Spirit Kiss, grapejuice101, TifaBea, stoxy99, Loveless Wings, Kat, Rosalind, Evangeline Carter, keilanttrafae, and a guest for reviewing!
Please enjoy and review this chapter!
11.
Scarecrow
When the sleep finally drained from Hannah's system, she woke to find the boys moving around the motel room in a frenzy. She sat up, yawning as she watched Dean brush his teeth in the bathroom and Sam pack his things away.
"What's going on?" croaked Hannah, rubbing her groggy eyes.
"Dad called," answered Sam gruffly.
"What?" Hannah stopped rubbing her eyes, the news shocking her into alertness. "What did he say? Is he okay?"
Dean stepped out of the bathroom and explained everything to her. Hannah deflated once the information sunk in. John hadn't told his sons where he was; only ordering them to take on another job. She glanced over at Sam, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. He seemed to be keeping a lid on his anger, but she knew he was restraining himself from ranting about his father.
"You should get dressed," Sam told her, his voice tight.
Hannah remembered her hamsa amulet and turned to Dean, asking, "Are we still going to Chicago?"
Sam frowned in confusion. "Chicago?" he repeated.
"Missouri suggested I go see my psychic friend in Chicago about this—" Hannah leaned over to pluck her amulet from the nightstand. "I think something's wrong with it."
"What could be wrong with it?" Sam wondered.
"I don't know," Hannah said, shrugging. "That's why I wanted to see Magda."
"That'll have to wait, Princess," Dean eventually answered. "We need to hunt this thing Dad told us about before another couple dies."
"I know," Hannah replied evenly, clasping the amulet around her neck. "But Indiana's only, what, two hours away? Why don't you two get a head start while I go see Magda."
Hannah didn't miss the look Dean and Sam exchanged.
"Um, Princess, I don't think that's such a good idea," Dean said, walking over to her.
"Why not?" Hannah inquired, standing up to stretch. She paused mid-stretch when she caught Dean staring, and hastily dropped her arms to her sides. Her face warmed. Had he been ogling her?
Thankfully, Dean had the decency to look embarrassed. "Well, how the hell are you going to get to Indiana if we're already there? We can't just come pick you up in the middle of a job."
Hannah rolled her eyes at that. "Have a little faith in me, won't you? I'll get there safe and sound." She bumped his chest with the side of her hand. "Or are you going to miss me so much you won't be able to focus on the hunt?"
Dean looked away from her, scoffing. "Like I'd miss you."
"You know you would," teased Hannah, tilting her head. She laughed when Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't worry. I'll meet up with you guys tomorrow."
She had fallen asleep in yesterday's clothes, so Hannah didn't bother to change. Not that she had anything to change into. They still hadn't done their laundry. Nonetheless, Hannah was excited. She hadn't seen Magda since they graduated from Johns Hopkins, and she missed her dearly. Not that she didn't like hanging out with Sam and Dean—she loved them, but at times she yearned for some female company.
They checked out of the motel, and Hannah told Sam Magda's address. The drive took longer than usual with traffic. Sam pulled up in front of a row house and Hannah collected her things before stepping out of the Impala.
"I'm going to miss you guys!" Hannah exclaimed, reaching over through the driver's window to give Sam a hug.
"You'll only be gone for a day, Hannah," Sam reminded her, patting her back.
"Can't you at least pretend to miss me?" Hannah pouted, pulling away.
"I'm crying a river here, Princess," drawled Dean from the passenger seat.
"I take that back. I won't miss you guys," Hannah retorted, ignoring their chuckles. She waved goodbye as they drove off, and turned back to the row house.
She knocked on the door and waited, rolling back and forth on the heels of her feet. Minutes passed before the door swung open. Magda looked the same since the time they've been apart; same sultry black eyes, full lips, and red bandana worn around her long black hair as a headband.
Magda smirked and leaned against the doorway.
"I knew you'd come," the psychic drawled.
"Of course you did." Hannah rolled her eyes, but the two embraced, squealing with excitement. "It's been so long!"
"Too long," Magda agreed, pulling away and stepping aside for Hannah. "Where are the Hardy Boys?"
"They're getting a head start on a hunt without me," Hannah answered, setting her things on the ground in the living room. She blanched as she looked around, taking in the brightly painted, different colored walls, curtains of peculiar prints, and mismatched furniture.
Unique was the politest word she could think of.
Hannah asked if she could wash her clothes, and Magda agreed without hesitation. Magda offered to make lunch and as she was in the kitchen, Hannah's mind drifted to the first time she and Magda met.
It had been two weeks before the start of term. Hannah had been eighteen, raised with the harsh realities that the supernatural was real, and admittedly lonely. Dean and Sam came around less and less because of their persistent hunt for the thing that killed their mom—a demon apparently. There was Jo, but she never sought out Hannah's company.
Magda had been decorating her side of the room when Hannah first entered their dorm. She'd been ready to introduce herself when Magda had turned to her and smiled, opening her mouth to say, "I know you."
That confused Hannah at first, but she soon learned that Magda was a psychic and had known that the two would meet. By the time school started, they were already friends. By the end of term, Hannah considered Magda her closest female friend.
Besides bonding over the supernatural, Magda was much more experienced than Hannah was socially and sexually. She helped Hannah become more comfortable around attractive boys, especially with a certain person whom Hannah would rather not name. She pushed back thoughts of him and remembered to bring up the reason why she was there.
"Do you remember meeting a psychic named Missouri Moseley?" Hannah asked her, leaning against the dryer.
"How could I not?" Magda snorted from the kitchen. "The woman threw a shoe at me."
She laughed, remembering Missouri's threats to Dean. It was a little refreshing to see an adult not fall for Dean's charm. Hannah herself was guilty of allowing herself to be swayed by him.
"Why do you ask?" Magda asked, disrupting the silence with the clattering of plates. Hannah hesitated, but she made herself walk to the kitchen and explain the mystery shrouding her hamsa amulet.
"Huh," she said afterwards. "You know, I always had this feeling that something was wrong with it, but I never really thought about checking it out."
"I mean, if it's not too much trouble," Hannah added, biting her lip.
"It's not," assured Magda, opening the fridge and pouring two cups of soda.
Hannah sat at the kitchen table and accepted the sandwich presented to her. Magda sat down opposite of her, sipping her own cup of cola. They exchanged stories, with Hannah learning that Magda was a registered nurse and worked as a palm reader on the side. As Hannah revealed her hunts involving the Winchesters, she noticed a sly smile grow on Magda's face.
"What?" Hannah asked her, frowning.
"The way you talk about Dean..." Magda trailed off. "It sounds like you like him."
"I don't," Hannah huffed, though she couldn't ignore the heat rushing to her face.
Magda fixed her with a look of disbelief.
"I don't," she insisted, because Hannah certainly did not like Dean. He was her friend, and that was all they were. "I mean, I did have a small crush on him back when I was fourteen…"
Of course, her crush on Dean had been expected. She was starting high school and he was the older boy with the leather jacket, cool car, rakish smile, eyes that she could gaze into forever… but those feelings were childish and eventually died like embers in a fire. Yet embers could still spark a flame.
Hannah waved a dismissive hand. "But that was a long time ago. I'd rather us stay friends than ruin our relationship."
"Friendship is good," Magda agreed, taking a sip of her cola. She dropped the subject easily, but the knowing look in her eyes was still there. "Let me get everything ready then we can see what's going on with your amulet."
Ten minutes later, they were in the dimly-lit living room, the only source of light being the candles surrounding them. They sat facing each other on the sofa, with Magda holding her hand and using her free one to touch Hannah's hamsa amulet. Hannah gripped her hand, swallowing down her uneasiness.
"I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before us," Magda murmured. "I invoke, conjure, and—"
She stopped abruptly, letting out a sharp gasp. Startled, Hannah opened her eyes and saw that Magda's eyes were screwed shut, her eyebrows drawn. Her olive skin paled and beaded with sweat. Her veins became more pronounced to a frightening degree. Her lips moved, but no words were heard. Hannah jumped when Magda suddenly started screaming. It was agonizing and Hannah couldn't sit by. She grasped Magda's wrist and ripped her hand away from her amulet. She widened her eyes when Magda's whole body convulsed, whimpering in pain.
"Magda," Hannah called, afraid she hurt her friend.
"I'm fine," the psychic rasped out, when the spasms ceased. "I couldn't see anything, you know, significant."
"Nothing?" Hannah frowned, disappointed.
"Nothing." Magda sat up, rubbing her temples gingerly. "If I touched it any longer, I would have burned my eyes out. All I saw was white, but the more I touched it, the more I felt its divine power..."
Divine? Hannah thought, worried. How could some ordinary hippie amulet give off so much energy? Then again, it wasn't truly ordinary to begin with. Did it have something to do with Hannah herself? Her mind whirled as she calculated different theories about her amulet.
"Let me get you some water. You're still a little pale," Hannah mumbled, standing up and heading to the kitchen. "Well, thanks for trying anyways."
"I really didn't mind," Magda said, accepting the water. "You might want to check on those clothes you're washing."
"Right." Hannah was hesitant to leave Magda alone, but she seemed fine relaxing on the sofa. Her mind drifted to the boys. She hoped they weren't arguing over their father again since it was one of the most common things they bickered about.
Hannah glanced down, lifting her hamsa amulet between her thumb and index finger. She'd get her answers some way or another.
Hannah woke early in the morning, ready for her newest hunt yet reluctant to leave. She and Magda had spent the rest of the evening and night reminiscing. Annoyingly enough, the conversation kept steering its way back to Dean. She would remind the psychic each time that she only saw Dean as a friend.
After breakfast, Magda offered to drive Hannah to Indiana. Hannah could not thank her enough, and for most of the drive, they listened to reggaetón after Magda refused all of Hannah's pop suggestions. She remembered having a similar argument with Dean, except he had conceded when she offered listening to Fleetwood Mac.
"Dean-o!" Hannah said cheerfully, when he finally picked up his phone.
"I hate when you call me that," answered Dean.
"And I hate when you call me princess," Hannah responded.
"Are you on your way yet?" he asked impatiently.
"Yeah. Where should I meet you guys?"
"I was heading over to the interstate when the EMF meter started making noise. I'm at an orchard now. You'll see my Baby parked outside of it."
"I'll be there soon. Be careful."
"I'm always careful."
"Right."
Dean snorted on the other line before hanging up. Hannah shoved her Motorola Razr back in her purse. When she looked back up, Magda kept glancing at her with a smirk. Hannah narrowed her eyes, but said nothing.
They reached the orchard thirty minutes later, with Hannah spotting Dean leaning against the hood of the Impala. Hannah leaned over to give Magda a sideways hug before climbing out and retrieving her things from the backseat. Dean moved to unlock the trunk of his car and waited as Hannah put her things away. Hannah waved goodbye to Magda who blew her a kiss before driving back home to Chicago.
She looked around, creasing her eyebrows, and asked, "Where's Sam?"
"What? No 'hello Dean'?" Dean questioned, slamming the trunk shut. "And I see you're wearing another tight sweater."
"It's cold," Hannah said defensively, glancing down at her grey-blue, ribbed-knit turtleneck. It was sort of snug, but Hannah would never admit that. "And you haven't answered my question. Where's Sam?"
They stared at each other, Hannah noting the hesitant look on Dean's face. He sighed and gestured for Hannah to follow him into the orchard. Hannah suddenly felt anxious, wondering if something happened to Sam.
"We were driving and Sam decided he didn't want to go to Indiana," Dean started, walking at the same pace as Hannah. "He wanted to go back to California and find Dad, so I let him."
"He what?" Hannah stopped walking, and looked at Dean in shock.
"Yeah, can you believe him?" Dean scoffed, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "He's being a selfish bastard. Dad gave us an order and he decides he's going to disobey it. I don't get what his problem is."
"His problem is that we've been looking for John for months and when we finally get a lead you choose not to follow it," Hannah snapped.
"Fuck, not you too," Dean groaned.
"And how could you let him go?!" Hannah demanded, turning to face him. "How could you let your little brother go off in the middle of the night alone?!"
"Sam's a big boy. He can handle himself," Dean responded through grit teeth. "And it was his choice to leave. If he wants to be a—"
"A selfish bastard. Right," Hannah interrupted, crossing her arms. "I want to help these people too, but... don't you want to find your Dad?"
He looked taken aback by her question—or was it from the softness in her voice that startled him? Hannah wasn't too sure, but the scowl on Dean's face lessened.
"Of course I want to find him," Dean answered, his anger subdued. "But Dad says it's dangerous and he knows something we don't, so if he says stay away, we stay away."
"When have you ever cared about danger?" Hannah asked him. "It's been twenty-two years, Dean. You and Sam deserve to know whatever it is John is keeping from you guys."
Dean considered her for a long moment. Eventually, he motioned for them to continue walking through foggy orchard. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Hannah hoped her words got to him because she thought of it as completely unfair that both Sam and Dean were still in the dark about things they deserved to know.
Hannah frowned when they approached an eldritch scarecrow. She noticed its right hand grasping a sickle, but made no move to get any closer. Part of her feared that the scarecrow would come to life right then and there. She watched as Dean brought a ladder over to the scarecrow and climbed it.
"I checked it out before you got here, but I wanted to see what you thought of it," Dean explained, lifting the sleeve of the arm holding the sickle.
Butterflies fluttered in her belly when Dean gestured for her to climb up to get a better look after climbing down, but she climbed the ladder, taking the missing person's reports from his hands. Hannah studied the tattoo on the scarecrow's arm then looked back at the missing person's report.
The man pictured had the exact same tattoo on his right arm.
"I think this scarecrow has something to do with the missing couples," Hannah murmured, stepping down from the ladder. "We should stake-out the place tonight, see if it does something weird."
"Because the freaks come out at night?" Dean asked flatly.
"When else would the freaks come out?" Hannah asked, grinning. "Have you talked to any locals?"
"I did, but they claim they don't get many strangers around here," Dean replied as they walked back to the Impala. "Talked to an older couple, but they only gave the most recent couple gas and told them how to get back to the interstate."
"Weird," Hannah muttered, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. "When will you talk to Sam?"
"I'm not talking to Sam," Dean replied firmly. He unlocked the car and they both slid in. "He hasn't tried to call me either. Let him go to California."
"Oh, Dean," Hannah sighed, buckling her seatbelt. "When will you get over your manly pride and call your brother?"
"It's not manly pride," Dean grumbled, turning the key in the ignition.
"It's not?" Hannah questioned, raising her eyebrows. "Because it seems like you two are acting like drama queens."
Dean glanced at her, annoyance plain on his face. "Everyone thinks you're so sweet, but you're a bitch when you want to be, you know that?"
"Someone has to keep you from getting too big in the head," Hannah retorted.
He harrumphed and said nothing else as he drove back to the small Indiana town. They stopped at a gas station where a blonde girl about seventeen or eighteen was waiting by the gas pumps.
"You're back," the girl said, smiling.
"Never left," Dean said as he climbed out. Hannah followed suit, greeting the girl with a polite smile. "I found her on the side of the road."
Hannah slapped Dean's arm. "He's kidding," she told the girl, who seemed amused. "I'm here to help look for our friends."
"I was just about ask if you were still looking," the girl—Emily from what Hannah read on her nametag, said. They both nodded before Dean asked Emily to fill their gas tank. Emily obliged, and as she filled their tank, Dean decided to strike up a conversation with the girl.
"So, you grew up here?" he asked Emily.
"I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents—car accident," Emily explained, a hint of sadness in her voice. "My aunt and uncle took me in."
"They're nice people?" Dean asked.
"Everybody's nice here," Emily said.
"So, what, it's like the perfect little town?" he questioned, his tone threatening to become sarcastic.
Emily didn't seem to notice. "Well, you know, it's the boonies, but I love it," she answered, fondness coloring her voice. "I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it's almost like we're blessed."
"Hey, you been out to the orchard?" Hannah suddenly asked her. Emily frowned in response. "The scarecrow?"
"Yeah, it creeps me out," Emily admitted, and Hannah laughed.
"Whose is it?" Dean inquired.
"I don't know. It's just always been there," she said, shrugging.
Hannah scowled at Dean when he elbowed her side, but her scowl left her face once she followed his stare. There was a red van parked by the garage. She was more concerned once Emily revealed that it was a couple who owned the van. They thanked Emily and headed to a diner, but Hannah opted to stay in the car.
"You sure you don't want anything?" Dean asked her.
"A strawberry milkshake would be great," Hannah said, smiling.
He left her alone, and Hannah quickly dug her phone out of her purse before calling Sam.
When Sam picked up his phone and read the caller ID, he knew he was about to receive the berating of the year.
"I have to take this," Sam said apologetically.
"No, go ahead. It's fine." Meg waved a dismissive hand at him.
Sam smiled, hoping it hid the nervousness he felt about answering his ringing phone. Getting up, he wandered away until Meg was out of earshot before answering his phone.
"Sam! Are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm okay, Hannah. I'm at a bus station."
"I can't believe Dean let you leave."
He scowled. "Dean didn't let me leave, Hannah. I chose to leave."
"You chose to leave in the middle of the night! How could any of you decide it was best to walk on an empty road. Alone. At NIGHT?!"
Sam winced, holding the phone away from his ear.
"And don't even say I'm taking his side because I'm not," she continued, "I told him that the both of you deserve to know whatever it is John is keeping from you."
"Thank—"
"I'm not finished." Oh, thought Sam. "But that doesn't excuse you for leaving innocent people at the hands of whatever the hell is killing them! We're hunters, Sam! We save people and kill baddies, remember?"
"I remember," Sam replied grudgingly. "Are you done?"
"I was done, but I can go on," threatened Hannah. She sighed on the other line. "Look, I'm just worried that you could get hurt."
His annoyance waned at the sincerity in her voice. Hannah always had the best intentions for him and Dean, so he couldn't hold his anger towards her. Before Sam could speak, he heard Hannah groan.
"Oh my God, your brother is an idiot."
"What'd he do now?" Sam asked, amused.
"I left him alone for five minutes and he's already getting escorted out of town by the sheriff. How he coped on his own... I don't know."
"Well, good luck." Sam laughed, and Hannah wished him the same before hanging up.
He chewed the inside of his cheek, staring at his phone in contemplation of whether to call Dean. Sam glanced over at Meg. The girl was an enigma, but she seemed like the perfect distraction from him thinking about Dean and his complete and utter blind faith in their dad.
Sam snapped his phone shut and headed back to Meg.
Hannah couldn't deny that this was an awful day.
She understood that Sam didn't appreciate being told what to do, and she tried her best not to act domineering towards him, but it still felt like something was missing with him gone. Hannah always thought of them as a trio. It was weird when one of them was missing. And it didn't help that Dean managed to get them kicked out of town for being so tactless. Sometimes, Hannah wondered what went through that skull of his. Hannah hadn't stayed mad at him for too long, though. He had admitted that Sam would have been better at talking to the couple.
The thing that upset Hannah the most was that she hadn't even gotten her milkshake.
But Hannah wasn't going to focus on the awfulness of the day. She had figured out what they were hunting: a pagan god, more specifically a pagan god that represented fertility. It explained the annual killings of one man and one woman, and Dean had mentioned offhandedly that the owner of the cafe had been feeding the couple enthusiastically.
"So, what exactly did you tell them?" Hannah asked him.
She and Dean were sitting in the Impala parked outside of the orchard. The sun was asleep below the sky, allowing complete darkness to take over. Fog rolled through the gardens of the orchard, and Hannah half expected a busty blonde from a slasher flick to come running out and away from a masked killer.
"I said that they were in danger," Dean answered, refusing to look at her.
"Now would you say that?" Hannah questioned, bringing her knees up to her chest.
"Because they are!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up.
"Dean, you might as well as said 'I'm a lunatic'. No one is going to believe a drifter who ominously tells them that 'they're in danger'," Hannah said.
"You know, you've been feisty today," Dean remarked, staring at her. He smiled, and Hannah's insides did flips. "It's kind of hot."
His stare lingered, and before Hannah could even fumble for a response, a scream rippled through the air. They both scrambled out of the car and Dean opened the trunk. He gave her a shotgun before grabbing one for himself.
"I trust you won't shoot me in the ass?" Dean joked, and Hannah made a face at him. He slammed the trunk shut then motioned for her to go.
They hadn't jogged too far when they nearly crashed into the couple from earlier. Dean ordered them back to their car, and they didn't need much encouragement. Hannah raised the shotgun, aiming the barrel at the scarecrow's chest before shooting. It stumbled, but it kept coming towards them.
"Head shot," Hannah suggested to Dean who nodded.
He cocked his shotgun and shot at the scarecrow's head, but nothing happened. He continued shooting at it until Hannah took a step back, realizing that bullets wouldn't work against it. She grasped his wrist and tugged him back. They ran back to their own car at full speed, the panting of the scarecrow sounding so close behind them.
Hannah spotted the couple by the Impala, hugging each other. She and Dean scanned the area, anticipating the scarecrow to step out of the fog and attack them, but it didn't.
"What—what the hell was that?" demanded the guy.
"Don't ask," Dean replied, once he regained his breath.
Dean lowered his shotgun and turned to the couple. He offered to fix their car and they seemed reluctant, but agreed to it after Hannah managed to convince them with the promise of protection. She and the couple huddled by the Impala while Dean worked on their car. Hannah explained the most she could about the scarecrow, not wanting to frighten the couple even more. Once Dean fixed their car, the couple thanked them profusely and drove off.
"So, what now?" Hannah asked, noticing that Dean had taken off his jacket.
"We could find a motel," Dean suggested, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Hannah said nothing, unable to focus on anything but how her body was buzzing alight. "No? You're not tired?"
"I'm not tired. I'm mean, I can't really be with the state I'm in," Hannah said, then smiled sheepishly. "It's the adrenaline."
"Ah." Dean grinned, leaning against the hood of the car. "The thrill of the hunt. Driving usually calms me down."
Hannah tilted her head, unable to suppress her smile. "You're actually offering to let me drive your car?"
He seemed to take her words as a challenge, and tossed her the keys to the Impala. Hannah caught them easily and stared at it for a moment before skipping over to the driver's door. She grinned once she caught the nervous expression on his face.
"I trust you won't have a panic attack?" Hannah quipped as she buckled her seatbelt.
Dean shot her a dirty look, but his stiff posture hadn't relaxed. Hannah shrugged and instead focused on how she was finally getting a turn to drive. It had been far too long since she driven a car.
Neither of them spoke, preferring to listen to the KISS cassette Dean put in. Hannah's mind drifted back to their conversation earlier, before the scarecrow had attacked the couple. He had called her hot. Part of her thought he had been messing with her, but she remembered the other time he called her hot. Did he even mean it? But there was his smile. It had been so genuine and real, not like those cocky or jokester ones he flashed her and Sam every day.
Hannah dismissed those thoughts the minute she remembered the knowing look in Magda's eyes.
Most of the night was spent getting Hannah's adrenaline to descend, so deciding against his better judgement, Dean let Hannah drive the Impala. It had been... terrifying to say the least, but he was glad it wore her out to the point that she was asleep in the backseat now. He had placed his jacket over her as a crude substitute for covers. Dean hoped she wouldn't mention it to him once she woke up. Hannah had a habit of making everything annoyingly sentimental. He could give her a leaf and she'd go on about how thoughtful his gift was.
"The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" Sam asked, incredulous.
Dean had decided to call Sam and hear his opinion on Hannah's theory. He also wanted to know how Sam was doing. Who could blame him? This was his brother. Dean practically raised the little bastard. He hoped that Sam wasn't serious about this California thing and would ask for Dean to pick him up wherever he was.
"Yeah, I'm telling you. Burkitsville, Indiana—fun town," Dean quipped. He kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding his phone to his ear.
"It didn't kill the couple, did it?"
"No. I can cope without you, you know."
Sam snorted on the other line.
"According to Hannah, you can't."
"God, what did that girl tell you?"
"Says you got escorted out of town by the sheriff. What'd you do, Dean?"
Dean shot Hannah a scowl from where she slept. Fucking blabber mouth, he thought as his eyes returned to the road.
"Nothing, Sammy," he said, clearing his throat. "So, what do you think?"
"It's a possibility. I mean, a god possesses the scarecrow and the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won't wilt, and disease won't spread," Sam speculated. He was quiet for a moment before asking, "Do you know which god you're dealing with?"
"No, not yet."
"Well, you figure out what it is, you can figure out a way to kill it."
"I know. We're on our way to a local community college. I've got an appointment with a professor. You know, Hannah wanted to check out the library, but I said it isn't the same without our trusty geek sidekick to help with the research."
He laughed. "You know, if you're hinting you need my help, just ask."
"I'm not hinting anything. Actually, uh—I want you to know..." Dean hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable. "I mean, don't think..."
"Yeah. I'm sorry too," Sam said quietly.
"Sam," Dean started. "You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You've got to live your own life."
"... Are you serious?"
"You've always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—" Dean stopped himself. "Anyway, I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."
"I don't even know what to say."
"Say you'll take care of yourself."
"I will," he promised.
Dean let out a wavering breath. "Call me when you find Dad."
"Okay." Was it Dean's imagination or did Sam actually sound sad? "Tell Hannah I'm sorry I never got to say goodbye."
"I will," Dean agreed.
"Bye, Dean."
He was certain if he spoke, he'd be unable to hide what he truly felt. Instead, he hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket. For a while, Dean drove in complete silence. After another eight minutes, Hannah woke up. He opened his mouth to greet her, but his words dried up when he saw her stretch in the rear view mirror. Her body twisted like a kitten across the seats, and her chest pushed out as she stretched her arms over her head. If that wasn't enough, she let out a little sleepy moan.
Fuck, Dean thought. If that wasn't the hottest thing he'd seen in a while…
"Shit," he hissed, swerving so he wouldn't drive off the road. The sharp swerve made Hannah collide the side of her head with the window.
"Jesus, Dean," Hannah cried out. She sat up, rubbing her head. "What was that about?"
"There was a squirrel," Dean lied, swallowing thickly. He couldn't just tell her he was watching her. What the hell was wrong with him? She wasn't just some hot girl at a dive bar, she was Bobby's kid. He needed to get laid, then he wouldn't even look twice at Hannah. "I talked to Sam."
"What did he say?" Hannah asked, her confusion vanishing.
"He's still going to California," Dean told her.
"Oh." She sounded disappointed, and Dean didn't blame her. Hannah had always been fond of Sam.
"But we, uh, made up," Dean admitted, somewhat embarrassed.
She launched forward, gasping in delight. "That's great! I hate when you guys fight."
"Why?" he asked, puzzled.
"Because I know you both feel miserable when you're apart," Hannah replied, reaching for the radio. "I guess it's us two then."
"Yeah, I guess," Dean mumbled. He swatted her hand away from the radio.
Hannah rolled her eyes and just when Dean thought she was going to sit back, she climbed over, almost kicking him as she sat in the passenger seat. Dean rolled his eyes at how she primped in front of the mirror of the sun visor. It still stunned him that a girl like her was a hunter. Then again, Dean didn't know any girl like Hannah.
"It's not every day I get a research question on pagan ideology," commented the professor.
"Well, call it a hobby," Dean replied, flashing the older man a charming smile. "Right, Hannah?"
Hannah hummed in response. She and Dean were at a local community college, seeking information about Pagan gods from one of the professors. Personally, Hannah would have gone to the library, but the library seemed to remind Dean of Sam, so that suggestion hadn't gone well. She wasn't feeling too well physically either, with a headache from hitting her head caused by Dean's stupid driving.
"But you both said you were interested in local lore?" the professor asked, frowning when both Hannah and Dean nodded. "I'm afraid Indiana isn't really known for its Pagan worship."
"You know how the Pilgrims brought over their religion when they settled here? Immigrants could have imported these ideologies. Right?" Hannah questioned, biting her lip.
"Yeah." Dean looked at her. He smiled, as if he were impressed. "Like that town near here, Burkitsville. Where are their ancestors from?"
"Uh, northern Europe, I believe. Scandinavia," the professor answered uncertainly. They walked through a hall, and Hannah could see a classroom nearby.
"What could you tell us about those pagan gods?" Dean asked.
The professor seemed uncomfortable with their questions, but answered them nevertheless. "Well, there are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses—"
"We're actually looking for one. Might live in an orchard?" Dean cut off the old man's rambling.
"Woods god, hm? Well, let's see." The professor led them inside a classroom where he found a large book and set it down on a table. He leafed through some pages until Hannah spotted a picture of a scarecrow surrounded by farmers on one of the pages.
"Wait, wait." Dean pointed to the picture, noticing it as well. "What's that one?"
"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se," the professor explained.
Hannah leaned down, brushing back some loose strands of hair behind her ear. "'The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm'," she read. "'Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female'."
She and Dean shared a furtive look before Hannah straightened.
"Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?" Dean remarked to the professor.
"I suppose," he agreed.
"'This particular Vanir that's energy sprung from the sacred tree'?" Dean read, looking at the professor questioningly.
"Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic."
"So, what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"
The professor laughed. "Son, these are just legends we're discussing."
Dean glanced at Hannah, smiling before turning back to the professor. "Oh, of course. Yeah, you're right. Listen, thank you very much."
"Glad I could help." Dean and the professor shook hands. Hannah mumbled a thank you as she shook the old man's hand and followed Dean to the door.
He opened the door and before Hannah could warn him, the sheriff from earlier struck Dean with his shotgun, knocking him unconscious. Hannah tried to think of a way to escape, but the sheriff was quicker, wrapping his arms around her and calling someone else's name.
"Stop screaming," hissed the sheriff, but Hannah wouldn't. She thrashed against him while screaming at the top of her lungs. She managed to elbow him in the jaw, but his hold on her did not loosen. Another man grabbed her kicking legs.
They dragged her out of the college. The sheriff shoved his fingers in her mouth to keep quiet, but she bit him instead. Hannah felt a little satisfied when the sheriff pulling his fingers out, hissing in pain. Still holding her, the sheriff handcuffed her before shoving her and Dean in the backseat of the police car.
She kicked the back of his chairs repeatedly, sickened by these people's willingness to murder innocent people for some apples. The whole town was part of this sacrificial ritual because no one bat an eye at Hannah's screams as the sheriff shoved her and Dean's unconscious body in the cellar. The sheriff uncuffed her before hastily escaping her punches and kicks.
Dean woke up not too longer after, bruising already forming around his eye. Hannah rushed over to him, watching as he stood to his full height unsteadily.
"They're going to sacrifice us," Hannah explained before he could ask. "I tried getting away, but the sheriff and another man caught me before I could."
"Shit. This is my fault," Dean muttered, gingerly rubbing his forehead. Hannah's own head was throbbing from her headache and screaming. "We should have gone to the library like you said."
"Look, it doesn't matter who's right or wrong right now," Hannah said, crossing her arms. "What matters is that we don't die at the hands of some creepy scarecrow, so... do you have a plan?"
"Of course." Dean grinned. "I'm awesome at getting out of situations like this."
"Really?" Hannah wandered over to the cellar door. She had a knife in her boot, maybe she could get the door open with it.
"Hell yeah. There was this one time in New Orleans with this voodoo chick. She made this voodoo doll of me and almost killed me, but I—"
He was cut off when the cellar door opened. Hannah moved back until she bumped into Dean. A girl was pushed into the cellar, and Hannah widened her eyes when it turned out to be Emily. She was crying and begging the people outside to let them go, but they merely slammed and locked the cellar door.
"Emily?" Dean called, confused. "What are you doing down here?"
"I—I heard screaming and I saw my aunt and uncle putting you and your friend down here. Before I could do anything, they grabbed me and put me down here, saying it's 'for the common good'," Emily explained, sniffling. "I don't understand what's happening. Are they going to kill us?"
"They're trying to appease their god," Hannah realized, turning to Dean.
"Right, because we stole its meal," Dean said, nodding. "Emily, this may be hard to believe, but the people in this town are going to sacrifice us. Which is, I don't know, classier, I guess?"
Hannah rolled her eyes at him, before turning to Emily. "You really didn't know anything about this, did you?"
"About what? The scarecrow god?" Emily asked. She shook her head, her tears sliding down her pale cheeks. "I can't believe this."
"I know it's hard to believe this, but you have to believe it because we're going to need your help," Hannah told her.
"Okay," Emily agreed, her voice trembling.
"Now, we can destroy the scarecrow, but we have to find the tree," Dean said.
Emily creased her eyebrows in confusion. "What tree?"
"Maybe you can help us with that," Hannah murmured. "It would be really old. The locals would treat it with a lot of respect, you know, like it was sacred."
"There was this one apple tree," Emily told them after a moment of thinking. "The immigrants brought it over with them. They call it the First Tree."
"Is it in the orchard?" Dean questioned.
"Yeah, but I don't know where," Emily answered. Everyone froze when they heard the cellar door creak open.
It was time.
I'm not dying at the hands of a scarecrow. I'm not dying at the hands of a scarecrow. I'm not dying at the hands of a scarecrow, repeated in Hannah's mind. Her headache had worsened on the way to the orchard, and her throat was sore from screaming. She let her head fall back, letting it rest against the tree she was tied to.
"How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" Hannah demanded, wincing from the harshness of her own voice. "How much blood is on your hands?"
"We don't kill them," the sheriff attempted to explain.
"No, but you sure cover up after," Dean snapped. "I mean, how many cars have you hidden? How many clothes have you buried?"
The sheriff said nothing, turning away instead. Hannah tried to loosen the ropes, but they were tight around her wrists. Emily was pleading to her aunt and uncle to let her go, but they refused. Hannah felt even more disgust towards them.
"I hope your apple pie is fucking worth it!" Dean shouted at the others retreating.
"So... what's the plan?" Emily asked them.
"I'm working on it," Dean answered, still struggling against the ropes.
The sun was low in the sky when Hannah decided to ask, "Still working on that plan, Dean?"
"Yes!" he exclaimed. Hannah and Emily exchanged incredulous looks, but then they both remembered the possessed scarecrow and turned away.
Another few hours passed and it was completely dark. Fog drifted through the orchard, and at any moment, the scarecrow could kill them now. Her breath hitched when she heard rustling. We're going to die, Hannah thought, her heart pounding inside her chest. To her immense relief, it was Sam.
"Sam!" she exclaimed, unable to stop herself from crying of joy. They were saved!
"Oh, I take everything back I said," Dean blurted out. "I'm so happy to see you. Come on."
"How'd you get here?" Hannah asked as Sam began untying Dean from the tree.
"I, uh—I stole a car," Sam told them sheepishly. He moved over to Emily and began untying her.
"That's my boy!" Dean laughed, much to Sam's chagrin. "And keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute."
"What scarecrow?" Sam asked, bewildered. Hannah's heart dropped and she noticed Dean get up and wander over to the cross the scarecrow had been hung up on. "Hey, Hannah, I'm sorry for—"
"Don't be." Hannah threw her arms around Sam's neck after he untied her, hugging him close. "I'm just glad you're safe."
"I'm glad you're safe too," Sam mumbled, hugging her back. He helped her up and they went over to where Dean stood, his stance rigid. The four of them began jogging through the orchard, hoping to evade the scarecrow. "Alright, now, this sacred tree you're talking about—"
"It's the source of its power," Hannah told him. She held Emily's wrist, not wanting her to get left behind.
"So let's find it and burn it," Sam decided.
"Nah." Dean shook his head. "We do it in the morning. Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up."
They reached a clearing, but waiting for them were the townspeople. They pointed guns at them and when they tried to run the other way, more of them surrounded them. Hannah couldn't believe these people.
"Please," begged Emily, turning to her aunt and uncle. "Let us go."
"It'll be over quickly, I promise," replied her uncle. "Emily, you have to let him take you. You have to—"
He was cut off, grunting in pain. Hannah widened her eyes at the sickle jutting out of his chest, blood trickling down his open chest. Emily and her aunt started to scream, her aunt screaming louder when the scarecrow grabbed and dragged her off into the foggy darkness. Emily began to sob and ran into Dean's arms.
The rest of the townspeople ran away, too frightened to capture them. Dean motioned for her and Sam to follow, quickly realizing that this was the best time to escape. They took Sam's stolen car and drove back to the college to retrieve the Impala. Another stop was to Emily's house so she could pack a suitcase and gather whatever remaining money was left.
Hannah would have liked to watch the sun rise, but Dean urged her along and she found herself back at the sacred tree. Sam went closer to pour the gasoline over it. Hannah picked up a long branch and handed it to Dean for him to light. He was about to light the tree on fire, but Emily stopped him.
"Let me," she said. Dean obliged, giving her the lit branch.
"You know, the whole town's going to die," Dean reminded her.
"Good." Emily tossed the burning branch towards the tree, watching as it became engulfed in flames.
"Think she's going to be alright?" Sam asked them.
"I think so," Hannah said. She and the boys had dropped off Emily at the bus stop where she purchased a ticket to Boston.
"And the rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?" Sam questioned, scowling.
"Well, they'll have to live with the fact that they murdered innocent people for some stupid apples," Hannah replied. Dean burst out laughing, while Sam snorted.
"So, can I drop you off somewhere?" Dean asked Sam as they walked back to the car.
"No," Sam said, much to her and Dean's surprise. "I think you're stuck with me."
Hannah's face broke into a huge smile, ecstatic that he was staying. "Oh, Sammy!" She jumped up to kiss him on the cheek, wrapping her arms around him as he swung her around in a tight embrace.
"What changed your mind?" Dean asked after Sam set her down.
"I didn't. I still want to find Dad, and you're still a pain in the ass," Sam answered, directing his last comment towards Dean. "But... Jess and Mom, they're gone. Dad is God knows where, but you and me—" Sam paused, looking down at Hannah. He nodded, a silent kind of acknowledgement that tugged at her heart. "—we're all that's left. So, if we're going to see this through, we're going to do it together."
Dean's eyes widened, and for a moment, Hannah wondered if he was going to respond with something as equally poetic. Instead, he said, "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful."
Sam laughed with Dean, though, so Hannah couldn't find fault in Dean's lack of seriousness.
"You should be kissing my ass. You guys were dead meat, dude," Sam said, grinning as he slid into the passenger seat.
"Yeah, right. I had a plan. I'd have gotten us out," Dean huffed.
"Yes, because I totally believe you," Sam said sarcastically.
Hannah climbed in the backseat, still smiling. She was just glad the three of them were together again.