Chapter 12: Isn't That From a Disney Movie?

Breakfast the next day was an awkward affair. Everything I said to Sam sounded awkward and forced. I was so wary of Ezekiel that even being in his presence was a cause of discomfort. Sam, Kevin, Castiel and I were eating breakfast when Dean walked in, my chatter died instantly as he sat in his usual chair. Silently I placed in front of him a coffee and a plate of bacon and eggs. Then picked up the remainder of my toast and fled to the library.

Each of us went along doing our own thing, Sam and Kevin continued their research in the library, Castiel was engrossed in a nature program on the TV and I was sitting next to him reading the latest book on Djinn I had found. Dean walked in, slammed a laptop down on the table and cleared his throat.

"I've uh, found a case." He said loudly. Sam and Castiel wandered over and Kevin looked up in interest. I stared at my book determinedly, Dean cleared his throat again. "Uh Bethany you going to join us?"

I got up off my chair and walked over to the table everyone was standing around. I stood next to Castiel and leaned against him, he wrapped his arm around my waist immediately. I crossed my arms childishly and gave Dean a bored stare. "Proceed."

"So in this town, Clarence, three people were murdered." Dean said excitedly, "When, get this, their arms and legs were ripped off, in their beds, in their locked houses." He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. A bit off putting when you consider it was dead people he was happy about. But the Winchesters were raised on this stuff, I guess growing up a Hunter made some things a little frazzled.

"That does sound like our kind of job." Sam admitted. "Any connections with the victims?"

Dean fiddled with the laptop and pulled up three photos. "All victims were female, single, aged twenty-five and every single one belonged to the 'Clarence horse and rider association.'"

"Evidently we have a case, now the question is who is going to solve it?" Castiel asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked confused.

"Well there are more than two Hunters here," Castiel said pointing to himself and then me. "Who is going to do the job? Four FBI agents working the same case in a small town? Not exactly conspicuous."

"You have a point." Dean consented nodding, "That's why Bethany and I are going to do it."

"No way," I said firmly, shaking my head. "Not if Hell froze over." Absolutely not. Never going to happen, I'd rather barbeque my tongue and eat it at this point.

"Sam still isn't in peak physical condition after the Trials and Cas still hasn't got the best people skills. You're the only one who can do it." Dean argued. That was total bullshit. True, Castiel's social skills left something to be desired but in a pinch he would be able to handle it. Ever since he had become human, he slowly but surely had gotten better at the little subtleties that were part of human conversation. Now whether that was because he was adapting to human life or he was imitating people from all the TV shows I made him watch, I wasn't quite sure.

Sam, of course, had been training with us since we got back to the bunker. The whole 'not-in-peak-physical-condition' was his way of saying that we couldn't take Sam because an Angel was riding front seat. And whose fault was that? I didn't particularly feel comfortable leaving Dean alone with Ezekiel either but that wasn't the point. "Not happening." I hissed, glaring at the older man.

"You're going to let more people die because of some issues you have with me?" Dean challenged. Sam's eyes widened a little, even he could see the low blow that comment had been. I don't think Sam knew why we were fighting; but he knew Dean and I weren't going to start braiding each-others hair anytime soon. I narrowed my eyes at him and waved an accusing finger.

"That is not fair," I said my voice rising. "Don't guilt trip me!"

Dean shrugged, "That's what you're doing." he pointed out.

Sometimes I really hated Dean Winchester, I did not want to spend any more time with the guy. It had taken all of my self-control not to spit in his coffee this morning, working a case with him was pushing my self-restraint. However I wasn't fond of the smug look on his face, and the best way to get it off his face was to do the unexpected. "I'll be ready in ten." I told him.

He did a double take in surprise, "Really?" he asked, now unsure whether or not I was messing with him. I was a bit offended, did he think that I was so wrapped up in my own emotions I couldn't see his point? People were dying and it was my responsibility to help save them, even if it meant I had to do it with him.

I shrugged already heading to my room to pack. "What can I say? I love ponies."


I hadn't talked to Dean through the whole drive, if it wasn't Dean's mullet rock filling the air, it was pressing silence. We were almost there when he snapped under the tension of the quiet car. "Are we going to talk about what happened or not?" He demanded, taking his eyes off the road to glare at me.

"Not." I replied shortly, keeping my gaze straight ahead. I sighed, "Look Dean, I will act professionally, I will have conversations with you and I will help you gank whatever monster we find in this town. But do not expect me to understand you, because it is highly improbably that that will happen." And I meant it, I wasn't unreasonable, I could be civil. I could muster some witty banter and smile my way through this case. But I wasn't going to sit here and let him try and justify himself.

"I'll keep that in mind." He muttered darkly. We pulled up in front of the local police department at Clarence, New York. Both Dean and I were wearing spotless grey suits and dark woollen jackets. I fiddled with my suit subconsciously.

"I still don't know how I feel about impersonating a Federal Agent." I said grimly as we walked up the stone steps and into the concrete building. The town was small, just big enough for a Walmart and a small hospital. And the mood was foul, people walked quickly and quietly through the streets, going about their business and avoiding chatting in the street. I had a feeling straight away that the whole town knew something was up, and they thought they knew what it was.

"Think of it not as impersonating but as the truth. You are Special Agent Jordan and I am Special Agent Lee. Speak it and it shall be." Dean whispered helpfully, channelling his inner Yoda. He put on his best winning smile and headed straight towards the small, brown haired and timid looking receptionist. I almost felt bad for her; as soon as he approached she looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights. "Hello I'm Agent Lee and this is Agent Jordan," We flashed our badges. "We're here to see the bodies that were quartered." The secretary's eyes went wide. She scuttled from behind the desk and shyly showed us the way to the morgue.

"Agents," The mortician said in way of greeting, "Joanna tells me you're here to see the bodies of the local Saddle Club. I'm Fredrick Adams, I did the autopsy on all three victims." Fredrick Adams was a short, portly, grey and balding man with a big droopy mustache that reminded me of the poem, The Walrus and The Carpenter.

He held out his hand and Dean took it warmly. "I'm Agent Lee, this is Agent Jordan, lead the way." Dean said. I watched his facial expressions to see if he recognised the reference, but it appeared not. Good, hopefully the whole town weren't avid Harry Potter fans or we were going to have a problem.

Fredrick pulled out the bodies of all three women and motioned towards the refrigerator. "Their missing appendages are in there, I'll be in my office if you need me. And remember kids, refrigerate after opening." he chuckled at his own joke and closed the door behind him with a soft click. Oh great, a guy who looked at dead bodies for a living, and he was a joker too.

"It smells like bleach and death in here." I said immediately after he left. Dean pulled the sheets off the bodies and I gagged. "I think I'm going to be sick." My stomach did somersaults as I began heavily breathing through my mouth. I didn't want to smell the corpses.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Work through the pain princess." I was glad the mortician wasn't here. I wouldn't have to keep up my professional persona and I was free to smack Dean on the head, which I did. He pulled out a pencil from his pocket and lifted the upper lip of the victim. "No Fangs, claws, ectoplasm, bites or holes." He went to the other two victims and performed a similar procedure.

"What even is ectoplasm? I mean what does it look like?" I asked, Dean didn't answer.

"These girls really did die of blood loss." Dean muttered as he gave the last body a once over.

"Having your arms and legs ripped off will do that to you." I joked weakly. We closed up the bodies and went to the fridge; he pulled out the containers holding the missing limbs. "Yep definitely going to be sick." I muttered, I grabbed my stomach and leaned over groaning.

"They all have burns on their wrists and ankles, like they were pulled apart with ropes." He said, peering closely at the arm of one of the bodies. Dean grabbed the report hanging off the wall and shuffled through the papers. He began to read the coroner's report aloud. "'No ropes found at the crime scene, no horses or hoof prints found in the general vicinity, but coroner rules only several horses with ropes attached to the victims arms and legs could pull with force necessary. Concludes the bodies must have been moved.'" He tossed the report down on the table in disgust. "Typical, can't explain why people are dying? Make it up, that will help!" Shaking his head he turned to me.

I was leaning over a trash can, hyperventilating while trying desperately to avoid breathing through my nose. "I'll go grab the police reports." I volunteered. Anything to get out of this room. "And then we can go talk to the pony lovers."


The blonde woman we were questioning burst into tears. I handed her a tissue and Dean stood behind her, rolling his eyes. "It's just all so sad!" she wailed, clutching the tissue she mopped her face. A little over the top with the tears, I got the distinct impression from the relatives of the victims that they weren't that close. She fiddled with the golden ring on her finger as she glanced between Dean and I.

"We know Miss James, but we need to ask you these questions," I said, with the biggest amount of kindness I could summon. Somehow it came out less sincere then I hoped. She looked at me suspiciously. Dean, anytime now, come save me.

Dean interrupted, "Now you knew all three victims, Sorcha Knott, Caitlin Jenkins and Aoife Price?" During our investigation we discovered that all the victims, as well as almost all of the town, were of Irish decent. I was impressed that Dean could pronounce all their names right.

"Yes I did," she sniffed, turning to Dean she looked at him with imploring green eyes. "And please call me Roisin." she patted his hand. I choked on the coffee I had been given and had to cough loudly to cover my laughter. Seems dear old Roisin had taken a shine to Agent Lee.

"Right," Dean said gently, extracting his hand from her grasp.

"Roisin, can you tell me, did they have any enemies, people who wanted to hurt them?" I asked, bring her attention back to me.

"No!" She gasped, alarmingly over-exaggerated, and clapped her hands to her mouth in horror. "No, they were the sweetest girls ever! Best riders in the club, all of them! They would always be chosen to represent the club at all the events across the state." Was it just me or was her voice a little bitter? "Even their competition loved them." She slipped the ring off her finger and twirled it in her hands before putting it back on again. She was acting very strange, something was definitely wrong with her.

"You're of Irish decent?" I asked to keep the conversation flowing. She shot me a filthy look and turned to Dean before addressing the question. Ugh, what a bitch.

"The whole town is, some are more recent, with the GFC and all. While others, like myself are a few generations." She practically purred to Dean. For someone who is supposed to be distraught at the loss of her friends, she seemed really keen to get in his pants. I've heard that everyone grieves in their own way, but her efforts were borderline psychotic.

"Been to Ireland recently, Miss James?" I said, not bothering with her first name. I was pretty sure she meant the eldest Winchester when she suggested using her first.

She shot me an annoyed look and her posture stiffened. "Yes, we all went to a competition in Cork a few years back. We did some sight-seeing while we were there. Homage to the motherland and all that." She waved her hand to shoo away the thought. But once it returned to her lap she began fiddling with the ring again. There was something she wasn't telling us and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

Dean held his fingers to his lips and slipped into the adjoining room. "So what will happen to their horses? Now that their gone." I asked, keeping her attention focused on me and not on the snooping Dean was doing in her office.

"Well they would stay at the club, unless the families want them." She fiddled with a golden ring on her finger as she answered flustered. "Why?"

Dean reappeared and gestured towards the exit. Right, time to go. "Every detail counts Miss James, thanks for your time." I stood up and shook her hand.

"And if you think of anything else, call us." Dean said handing the women a card. "Day or night." Roisin nodded and gave him what she obviously thought was a seductive smile. She managed to hold onto his hand a little longer than necessary.

We walked towards the car; once we were out of earshot Dean pulled his smart phone from his pocket and waved it at me. "Lookey see what I found while you were handling 'clingy' over there."

I snorted; it wasn't because of me that she was getting all handsy. "What is it?" I asked, looking over his shoulder as his fiddled with the tiny machine. He produced a picture, of what I assume was Roisin's office, he then zoomed in to look at a small silver shield hanging above the desk in the room.

"It's the badge for the local club." He showed me the symbol. It was a figure riding a horse on a hill, holding aloft a lantern.

"Ok so?" I asked confused.

He slapped me on the arm, "Look at the lantern you jackass."

I peered at the symbol closely, it was a bit blurry. You would think he could have taken a closer photo. Wait a second, if you tilted your head a little, it kind of looked like… "Is he holding a head?" I asked incredulously. Dean nodded. "So what we're dealing with the Headless Horseman? I'm pretty sure Sleepy Hollow is a myth Dean." After all I was a college professor, there were myths and then there were myths. The ones that held fact to them. The ones which I now took as gospel, the ones starring things I was officially trained to hunt down.

"Have I taught you nothing?" He demanded, stopping to glare at me. "Legends are lessons, they ring with truth."

I snickered, "Isn't that a quote from a Disney movie?" I asked, my eyebrows raised.

"The point remains," Dean continued, ignoring my question. "The legend of Sleepy Hollow is an extraction of-"

"-of original Irish folklore." I finished for him as we got in the car. "Mythology professor, college." I said pointing at myself. "These words mean anything to you?"

Dean smacked my arm again as he started the engine. "Now we hit the books and stop whatever the hell this is before it happens again." I nodded as we drove from the outlying stable and back in the direction of the town. "So you reckon some Celtic mojo going on here? Somebody thought it was a good idea to call up the headless guy?"

"I don't know Dean," I said unsure. "It's not my area of expertise. If I recall correctly he can only be summoned by certain people. Tom, Dick and Harry have no power over the thing. So they either summoned it by accident and it was a coincidence, or…." I trailed off, suggesting the thing I wish I didn't.

Dean sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And when is anything in this line of work a coincidence?" He shook his head, looking tired.

"Exactly." I agreed. Looks like we're searching for a murderer. This is going to be a great week. The car filled with silence as we contemplated this new fact.

His phone rang, making us jump. "Hello? Yes this is Agent Lee." He paused from a long time, listening to the other end. His face went pale. "We'll be there in five." He promised before hanging up.

The tires of the Impala squealed as he turned the car around. I yelled in alarm. "What are you doing? You're going to get us killed!" He sped down the winding country road at a break-neck pace. Heading in the direction of the town with a new haste.

"It happened again God dammit!" He shouted, pounding the steering wheel in anger. He pushed the pedal to the floor and the car screeched in protest.

"So killing us is the answer?" I yelled back, my knuckles were white as I gripped onto the door tightly. I was going to die; I was seriously going to die in this god forsaken car.

"You don't understand it was a girl, a little girl." Dean said through gritted teeth as we speeded towards the town, my face paled.

"Drive faster." I ordered.


A/N: Hello again my pretties! What a wonderful week this has been. Man I don't know what happened, I just started typing and now this monster-of-the-week thing is about three chapters long! What am I going to do? Well, sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger like this but... Anyone how was your week? I open it was as good as mine, tomorrow night I'm off to go see a comedy show so that's going to be exciting! And oh my god I found out Misha Collins confirmed he's going to the convention I'm going to and akjshfasgkjdfhsdjfghdsf. ANYWHO, now I was wondering, maybe there are some mythology buffs among you? What do you think is going to happen next? I'm curious.

All my love and appreciation to my followers, favorites, readers, reviewers and anything else. You guys are the lifeblood of this story and I couldn't write this stuff without you! A special, million dollar thanks to Raveneyes79 and Taylah848 for reviewing, you guys made me do a happy dance while I was on the bus. Which was sufficiently awkward but I loved your kind words too much to care. To Taylah848: Nice guess work, though I am not going to give any spoilers away, just beware, last night I had a revelation so prepare for PLOT TWIST! (Love me some plot twists).

Shout out to all those who would like to add to this fic, you want something to happen, you can make it happen! P.M. or put it in a review and I will try to fill out your request. Something you want to happen, or not to happen, a character to turn up or maybe you want something else completely different? Do not be afraid, I will try to answer at once!

As usual, questions, comments and other such things, write a review and I will respond ASAP. And I might put you in a little wall of fame and the end of the novel. That's right, I just gave you Incentive. I'm getting serious about this now heheheh

Have a happy and safe week, don't let the monsters get you and don't forget to smile, because your all amazing!

So that's all folks!

Pronunciation: (I put this in here in case any of you were wondering)

Sorcha: Soar-sha

Caitlin: Kate-lin

Aoife: Ee-faa (like Eva in Wall-E)

Roisin: R(roll the R)- oh-sheen