Author's Note: This chapter did not want to be written. I swear I've been working on it for a month. I'm glad it's done. Hopefully I won't struggle as much with the next one. I also promise the next chapter will be much better than this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show.
P.S.: To help clarify the point of views for the flashback scenes in this chapter if the flashback is written and the words are just italicized it's Sam's pov. If the words are italicized and in boldface it's Dean's pov. If they are just in boldface the pov in unclear.
If it were still possible for her to get a migraine, she'd have one. That's what Fallon thought as she sat back against the headboard of Dean's bed and spared a glance at each of her two boys. Sam sat at the motel table with books spread out around him. He had a pinched look on his face. Dean was lounging on Sam's bed carelessly eating… something undiscernible. He had his radio blasting beside him. There was a growing tension in the air. Fallon was half-tempted to light a match and see if it had become flammable.
"Dude," Sam said suddenly. He was clearly annoyed. "You mind not eating those on MY bed?"
"No, I don't mind," Dean replied dismissively shoving another handful of…food?, into his mouth. "How's research going?"
Sam slammed down the book he was reading. "You know how it's going? Slow. You know how it would go a heck of a lot faster? If I had my computer."
"Hmm," Dean hummed.
"Can you turn that down please?" Sam asked, motioning at the radio.
"Yeah, absolutely," Dean replied and turned the volume up.
"Boys…"
"You know what? Maybe you should just go somewhere else for a while," Sam suggested cutting Fallon off.
Dean shut off the radio and glared at Sam. "Hey, I'd love to," he said. "That's a great idea. Unfortunately, my car's all screwed to hell."
"Boys…"
"Dean, I told you, I have nothing to do wi…" A loud knock on the door silenced them.
"Oh, thank God," Fallon sighed springing up off the bed and rushing for the door. She pulled it open to reveal Bobby standing on the other side. "Thank God you're here! I can't take it anymore."
"Hello to you, too," Bobby said frowning at her with a look of confusion. Fallon, though, was smiling as she led him into the room.
"Hey, Bobby," Dean greeted him.
"It's good to see you again so soon," Bobby replied.
"Yeah, uh, thanks for coming," Sam said.
"So, um, what didn't you want to talk to me about on the phone?" Bobby asked.
"It's this job we're working on," Sam told him. "We… we weren't sure you'd believe us."
Bobby scoffed. "Well, I can believe a lot," he said.
"Yeah, no. no, it's just, we've never seen anything like it," Sam said.
"Not even close," Dean added.
"Well, why don't you begin at the beginning," Bobby suggested.
"Yeah, um, alright," Sam agreed and the group sat down. "It all started when we caught wind of an obit. A professor took a nosedive from a fourth story window, only there's a campus legend that the building's haunted. So, we pretexted as reporters from the local paper:
Sam and Fallon sat across from two college students at one of the tables inside a bar. He placed a tape recorder down on the table and pressed record before he began to question the two.
"So, you were both students of the professor that took a swan dive?" he asked.
"Yeah," the male student said. He'd told them his name was Curtis. "We both had the professor for Ethics and Morality."
"Yeah?" Sam questioned. "So, why do you think he did it?"
"Who knows?" the girl, Jen, replied. "I mean, he was tenured. Had a wife and kids. His book is a really big deal. Then again… who's to say it was a suicide." Sam could see Fallon shooting him a meaningful look out of the corner of his eye. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod.
"Jen, come on," Curtis scoffed.
"What else could it be?" Sam asked sounding surprised.
"It's a bunch of crap," Curtis insisted. "It's a total urban legend."
"Yeah, well, Heather's mom went to school here, and she knew the girl," Jen said.
"Wait, what girl?" Sam asked confused.
"Thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor," Jen said. "He broke it off, she jumped out of the window and killed herself."
"Sounds a tad dramatic," Fallon muttered. Sam held back a laugh. Although he personally agreed with her, he also thought she had some nerve to call someone else dramatic when she'd blown a gasket earlier that week over Dean admitting he'd never seen a Harry Potter movie.
"You know her name?" Sam asked Jen.
"No," Jen replied, "but they say she jumped from room six-six-nine. Get it? You turn the nine upside down? So now she haunts the building. And anyone who sees her? They don't live to tell the tale."
Curtis snorted. "If they don't live to tell the tale then how does the tale get told?"
"Curtis, shut up!" Jen snapped.
"You know what, uh, thanks a lot guys," Sam said packing up. "Excuse me."
"Well, he has some kissing ass to do if he wants to get laid tonight," Fallon said as they walked away.
"No kidding," Sam chuckled.
"Think there's anything behind her story?" Fallon asked.
"Not sure," Sam said. "Maybe." The two of them made their way to the bar where they found Dean slugging back three shots filled with some purple liquid that looked like grape cough syrup.
"What are those?" Fallon asked, nose wrinkled in disgust.
Dean belched. "I don't know," he slurred. "I think they're call purple nurples?"
"Okay, well, listen," Sam said. "I think we should go check out the professor's office."
"Oh, no, no, no, no," Dean protested. "I can't right now. I've got some feisty little wildcat on the hook. I'm about to, zzzzp, reel her in. I'll introduce you."
"That's not necessary," Fallon replied coolly.
"Dean…"
"Starla!" Dean shouted over his shoulder. "Starla, hey! This is my shuttle co-pilot Major Tom. Major Tom, Starla."
The blonde girl smiled at him. "Enchante."
"Hi," Sam replied unimpressed. Suddenly, Starla gagged. She quickly covered her mouth before swallowing and then glancing back at him, grinning.
"Sorry," she demurred. "Just trying to keep my liquor down."
"I bet you find her picture next to the word bimbo in the dictionary," Fallon muttered.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Dean cried. "Hold on a minute."
"What?" Sam asked annoyed at being cut off.
"That is not how it happened," Dean said.
"No?" Sam replied. "So, you never drank a purple nurple?"
"Yeah, maybe that," Dean conceded, "but I don't say things like 'feisty little wildcat'. And her name wasn't Starla."
"Then what was it?" Sam questioned.
"I don't know," Dean said after a moment before turning to Bobby, "but she was a real classy chick. She was a grad student, anthropology and folklore. We were talking about local ghost stories….
"Here's to…"
"Here's to us," Dean said clinking his shot glass filled with some drink called a purple nurple. He'd met the girl at the bar. She had bought him a drink. He liked that kind of fearlessness in a woman. After the two began talking it became clear the girl was a go getter, type A kind of person. She reminded him of Fallon.
At the moment she was gazing at him adoringly. "My god you're attractive."
"Thanks," Dean replied brushing the compliment off. "But no time for that now. You need to tell me about the urban legend. Please. Lives are at stake."
"Sorry," the girl replied. "I just…can't even concentrate. It's like staring…into the sun."
"Oh please!" Dean jumped when he heard the scornful voice and winced when he saw Fallon standing behind him. And then he noticed Sam standing next to her. He looked about as displeased as Fallon. He was wearing one of his more impressive bitchfaces.
"Dean, what do you think you're doing?" he asked prissily.
"Sam, please," Dean said calmly. "Give me five minutes here."
"Dean, this is a very serious investigation," Sam nagged. "We don't have any time for any of your blah blah blah blah blah…"
"Right, and that's how it really happened," Sam cut him off angrily. "I don't sound like that, Dean!"
"That's what you sound like to me," Dean snapped back.
"You both sound like idiots," Fallon grumbled.
Bobby looked like he agreed with her as he glanced back and forth between the boys. "What's going on with you two?"
"Nothing," Sam answered.
"No, come on," Bobby said. "You're bickering like an old married couple."
"No, see, married couples can get divorced," Dean said emphatically. "Me and him, we're like, uh, Siamese twins."
"It's conjoined twins!" Sam cried exasperated.
"See what I mean?" Dean sighed annoyed.
"Well, Sam's right," Fallon said. "It's not politically correct to refer to conjoined twins as…"
"Why do you always agree with him?" Dean asked.
"I don't always agree with him," Fallon protested.
"She's right, Dean," Sam said. "She mostly agrees with you."
"Why do you two always have to drag me into it?" Fallon sighed covering her face with her hands. Both boys instantly looked guilty.
"You sure nothing's going on?" Bobby said doubtfully.
"We've just been on the road for too long," Sam said dismissively. "Tight quarters, all that. Don't worry about it."
"Okay," Bobby agreed shooting concerned looks at all three of them.
"So anyway," Sam said after a moment, getting back to the case, "we figured it might be a haunting, so we went to check out the scene of the crime…
When they had entered the building the professor had jumped from they were met immediately by one of the maintenance workers.
"Can I help you?"
"Yeah," Sam replied. "We're with the electric company. We were called to come check the wires for one of the offices in the building."
"You'll need a key to get into any of the offices," the worker said. "Good thing I have a set. Which office do you need to get into?"
"Oh, man, I forget the number," Dean said. "It's the office of that professor that just died recently."
"I know the one," the worker said. "You three can follow me."
"Three?" Fallon blurted out without thinking.
The maintenance worker gave her a funny look. "Do you not work with them?"
"No, actually," Dean said. "We were ordered here last minute by our boss. She's my girlfriend." Sam made a funny noise, but Dean ignored him. "We had a date tonight and she'd already arrived at the work building when we got the orders. When we wrap up here, we're heading on a late date."
"Good thing we didn't make reservations," Fallon added. Dean smiled at her. Sam rolled his eyes.
"So, are you staying down here, then?" the maintenance worker asked.
"Not if I don't have to," Fallon replied. "Large, empty buildings give me the creeps."
"This way then," the worker said leading them towards the stairs.
"So, how long've you been working here?" Sam asked.
"I've been mopping this floor for six years," the maintenance man said as they reached their floor and he led them into the professor's office. "There you go guys." Sam pulled out the EMF reader. "What the heck's that for?"
"Just to find a wire in the wall," Sam replied.
"Huh," the worker huffed. "Not sure why you're wiring up this office. Not gonna do the professor much good."
"I heard about that," Fallon said sitting down on the professor's desk. "Did he really kill himself?"
"He went out the window, right there," the worker replied.
"Were you working that night?" Sam asked.
"I'm the one who found him," the man answered.
"Did you actually see him jump?" Fallon asked.
"Nope," the man replied. "I just saw him come up here and uh, well…"
"What?" Sam questioned shooting Fallon a meaningful look.
"He wasn't alone," the worker said.
"Who was he with?" Dean asked through a mouthful of food. His cheeks were packed with nuts he'd found on the professor's desk…
"Come on!" Dean cried. "I ate one. Maybe two!"
Sam sighed. "Just let me tell it, okay?
"He was with a young lady," the worker said. "I told the cops about her, but I guess they never found her."
"You saw this girl go in, huh?" Sam questioned. "But did you ever see her come out?"
"Now that you mention it, no," the worker replied.
"Have you ever seen her around the building before?" Fallon asked.
"Well, not her," the worker said sheepishly.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, still munching on food. Sam glared at him and rolled his eyes at the fond look on Fallon's face.
"I don't mean to cast aspersions on a dead guy," the worker said placatingly, "but uh… Mister Morality here, he brought a lot of girls up here. Got more ass than a toilet seat." Dean and the worker laughed. Fallon looked pained. Sam just glared.
"One more thing," he said, keeping his tone professional. "This building only has four stories, right?"
"Yeah," the worker confirmed.
"So, there wouldn't be a room six-six-nine?"
"Course not," the worker replied. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious," Sam replied. "Thanks."
After pretending to work around in the office for a while they headed back to their motel room. Sam sat down at the table. Fallon took the seat across from him.
"Well, there were no traces of EMF," Sam said.
"I can second that," Fallon said. "There are no ghosts in that building."
"And the room six-six-nine's a load of crap," Dean added.
"So, what do you think?" Sam asked. "The professor was just a jumper? A legend's just a legend?"
"I don't know," Dean replied. "I mean, uh, the girl the janitor described, that's pretty weird."
"Not really," Fallon disagreed. "That building has multiple exits and stairwells. She could have easily slipped out without being seen by anyone."
"Fallon's got a point there," Sam said.
"Still, we oughta check out the history of the building," Dean replied. "See if any co-ed ganked herself there."
"Yeah, you're right," Sam said pulling his laptop over to him. Dean stepped into the bathroom. Sam frowned as he stared at the screen. "Dude, were you on my computer?"
Dean stepped back out of the bathroom, looking confused. "No."
"Oh really?" Sam questioned disbelievingly. "Cause it's frozen now. On, uh, ." Dean stares at him for another moment before wincing and ducking quickly back into the bathroom. "Dean! Would you… just, don't touch my stuff anymore, okay?"
"Why don't you control your O.C.D?" Dean shouted from the bathroom.
"Well," Fallon commented from behind him; she had come over to see what the fuss was about, "it could have frozen on a more evocative scene."
"That's helpful, Fallon. Thanks," Sam snapped.
"But did you dig anything up about this building?" Bobby asked confused. "Or on the suicidal co-ed?"
"No," Sam answered. "History's clean."
"Then it's not a haunting," Bobby said.
"Well… it's weird," Sam said.
"What's weird?" Bobby asked.
"What isn't weird at this point," Fallon grumbled. She was now sprawled across the mattress behind Bobby. A pillow lying over her face. Bobby kept shooting her concerned looks.
"This next part," Dean said, "we, uh, we didn't see it happen ourselves exactly, but it's pretty friggin' weird. Even for us."
"What happened?" Bobby asked.
"E.T.," Fallon said from under the pillow. "Beamed up the frat boy me and Sam had talked to at the bar. Would have been funnier if his name was Scotty."
"Aliens?!" Bobby exclaimed. He clearly didn't believe this.
"Yeah," Dean said.
"Look, even if they are real, they're sure as hell not coming to earth and swiping people," Bobby said.
"Hey, believe me," Dean replied. "We know."
"My whole life I've never found evidence of an honest-to-God abduction," Bobby said. "It's all just cranks and pranks."
"Yeah, that's what we thought, but… we figured we'd at least talk to the guy.
They wound up back at the bar they'd scoped out at the beginning of their investigation. It was clearly a favorite haunt of their latest victim. Fallon and Sam had interviewed him their first night of the investigation. Looking at the poor sap now, Fallon couldn't picture the confident, cocky frat boy he'd been a few nights earlier. He looked miserable as he shot back another shot.
"Hey, you ought to give those purple nurples a shot," Dean suggested enthusiastically.
"So, what happened, Curtis?" Sam asked.
"You won't believe me," Curtis replied. "Nobody does."
"Give us a chance," Sam encouraged.
"I do not want this in the papers," Curtis said firmly.
"Off the record, then," Dean agreed.
"I, uh… blacked out, and…I lost time, and when I woke up, I didn't know where I was," Curtis explained haltingly, "and these tiny, grey aliens were surrounding me."
"Then what?" Sam asked.
"They did tests on me," Curtis squeaked. "And uh, they, uh… they probed me." Fallon couldn't help it. She laughed.
"They probed you?" Dean asked, sounding disturbed.
"Yeah, they probed me," Curtis said. "Again, and a…Again and…and again." With how hard she was laughing, Fallon thought it was a good thing she no longer needed to breathe. Her laughing grew harder as the frat boy went on. "And again, and again and again… and then one more time."
"Yikes," Dean commented.
"And that's not even the worst of it," Curtis said.
"How could it get any worse?" Dean asked incredulously. "Some alien made you his bitch."
"They… they made me slow dance!" Curtis cries.
Fallon got up from the table and walked out to the lot, before she could really lose it. She walked up to the Impala and leaned against it. She was just getting it back together when the boys came out of the bar and came over to join her. The second the three made eye contact they started laughing again."
"You guys are exaggerating again, huh?" Bobby sighed.
"No, that actually happened," Fallon said peering out from beneath her pillow.
"Then this frat boy's just nuts," Bobby stated.
"We're not so sure," Dean replied.
In the morning, the three of them set out for the area Curtis had said he'd been abducted from. No one really thought they'd find anything, so they were stunned to see a ring of burnt grass. Silence settled over them for a moment as they inspected it.
"This was made by some type of jet engine," Fallon said softly.
"You mean some saucer-shaped jet engine?" Dean asked incredulously.
"What else could it be?" Sam asked.
"What the hell?" Dean commented.
"I don't know," Sam replied.
"Seriously, dude, what the hell?!"
"Neither of us have an answer for you," Fallon said.
"No, but, first the haunting, now this?" Sam said. "The timing alone… there's got to be some kind of connection."
"You mean the angry spirit and the sexed up E.T.?" Dean said. "What could the connection possibly be?" Sam and Fallon shared a look before both shrugging.
"But what could we do?" Dean asked continuing to explain things to Bobby. "So, we just kept on digging.
"So, what now?" Fallon asked. "We're out of leads."
"We need to find someone to talk to," Dean said.
"About what?" Fallon questioned.
"A friend of Curtis," Dean replied, glancing around at the students milling about the campus. He suddenly pointed at a student walking a few feet ahead of him. "That one. He has the symbol of Curtis' fraternity on his backpack. They hurried to catch up with him.
"Hey!" Sam called. "Hey you!"
The student turned around to face them. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah, actually," Sam said. "We're reporters with a local news magazine. We're writing an article about some strange things that have been happening on this campus lately. We were just wondering if you knew Curtis."
The student made a face at the name. "Yeah, I know him."
"You were in the same house, right?" Sam questioned.
"Yeah," the student replied.
"You heard what happened to him?" Dean asked.
"He says it was aliens, but you know, whatever," the student said shrugging.
"Look man," Sam said, concern dripping from his voice, "I know this all has to be so hard."
The student shifted on his feet uncomfortable. "Um, not so much."
"But I want you to know," Sam continued, "I'm here for you. You brave, little soldier. I acknowledge your pain. Come here." He pulled the student into a hug. "You're too precious for this world."
"I never said that!" Sam cried angrily.
"You're always saying pansy stuff like that," Dean said.
"Please stop," Fallon whined, her voice muffled by the pillow. "You're going to give me a migraine, and that shouldn't even be possible!"
"Well, um… yeah, uh, thanks," the student said squirming out of Sam's grasp. "Thanks for the hug, but, uh, I'm okay. Really. To tell you the truth, whatever happened to Curtis, he had it coming."
"Guess these two aren't friendly," Fallon commented.
"Why is that?" Dean asked.
"He's our pledge master," the student told them. "Put us through hell this semester, and got off on it. So now he knows how we feel."
"Well, thanks for your time," Sam said. "Keep marching on."
"Yeah," the student said giving him an odd look, "will do."
The three of them arrived back at the motel room more or less feeling like they'd accomplished nothing. "Still doesn't make a lick of sense," Dean said, "but, hey, at least there's one connection."
"What connection is that?" Fallon asked.
"The victims," Dean said. "The professor and the frat guy, they're both dicks."
"What a connection," Fallon mumbled throwing herself across the mattress of one of the beds.
"Hey, if you've got any other ideas, I'm all ears," Dean replied. Fallon waved him off.
"Where's my laptop?" Sam asked suddenly from across the room.
"I don't know," Dean replied sitting down next to Fallon and continuing to express his thesis about the connection. "Think about it. A philandering professor gets a dead girl. A pledge master gets hazed."
"I left it in here," Sam insisted.
"You obviously didn't," Dean said annoyed, his attention still on the case. "I mean, these punishments…they're almost poetic. Actually, it'd be more like a limerick, but still…"
"Okay, hilarious," Sam cut him off. "Where'd you hide it?"
"What, your computer?"
"Yeah," Sam replied. "Where'd you hide it?"
"Why would I take your computer?" Dean asked.
"Because no one else could have, Dean!" Sam cried. "We keep the door locked. We never let any maid in."
"Fallon could have taken it," Dean said. Fallon groaned and pulled a pillow over her head.
"Fallon wouldn't do that, Dean," Sam said. "Don't be a dick to her."
"Well, then it looks like you lost it, Pointdexter," Dean snapped. "And I'm not being a dick to her. I'm just stating she could have hidden it." A mumbled response from beneath the pillow sounded like Fallon was calling them both dicks, but they ignored her.
"Dude, you know something? I put up with a lot from you!" Sam cried.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked angrily. "I'm a joy to be around."
"Yeah?" Sam said motioning around the room. "Your dirty socks are in the sink. Your food in the fridge."
"What's wrong with my food?"
"It's not food anymore, Dean. It's Darwinism!" Sam cried. "All I ask from you, the one thing, is that you don't mess with my stuff."
"You done?" Dean asked, bored.
"You know, how would you feel if I screwed with the Impala?" Sam asked pointedly.
"It'd be the last thing you ever did," Dean replied threateningly.
"Did you take his computer?" Bobby asked, interrupting the tale.
"Serves him right, but no," Dean replied.
"Well, I didn't lose it," Sam said. "I don't lose things."
"Oh, that's right," Dean said mockingly. "Yeah, cause he's Mister Perfect. And because Fallon's so innocent she would never pull a prank on you." Fallon screamed behind her pillow.
"Maybe you should leave Fallon out of this," Bobby suggested. "Why don't you just tell me what happened next?"
"There was one more victim," Dean said.
"Right, now we didn't see this one ourselves, either," Sam explained. "We kind of put it together from the evidence. But this guy, he was a research scientist. Animal testing."
"Yeah, you know… a dick," Dean added. "Which fits the pattern."
Fallon cracked the window to the morgue open for the boys and they both slid into the room. Fallon made a motion with her hand and one of the body drawers slid open. The body was covered in a blood-stained cloth.
"I'm not pulling that back," Fallon said.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," Dean replied. He quickly pulled the sheet back. The three of them grimaced at the sight of the mangled body. "Okay, that is just nasty."
"Uh, yeah," Sam agreed, his hand covering his mouth and nose.
"Mutilated?"
"You have to ask?" Fallon cried. "He looks like he was eaten by something."
"They identify him, yet?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, uh, a research scientist at the college," Sam said. "Guess where his office was. Crawford Hall. The same as the professor."
"Also where Curtis got beamed up," Fallon added. "Another connection."
"Yeah," Sam said, staring intently at the mangled corpse. "Hey, grab me that light, would you?" Dean shoved the magnifying light towards Sam. "Thanks."
"What is it?" Dean asked.
"Looks like… a belly scale," Sam said.
"From what?"
"Uh… an alligator?"
"An alligator in the sewer?" Dean said dismissively. "Come on."
"Well, Dean, it's a classic urban legend," Sam said. "A kid flushes a baby gator down the toilet, and it grows huge in the tunnels."
"Sounds improbable to me," Fallon added. "No one has actually found an alligator in the sewer."
"She's right," Dean said. "They're not real."
"Well, neither is alien abduction, but something chomped on this guy," Sam said.
"This couldn't get any weirder," Dean sighed.
"You should never say things like that," Fallon said.
"Maybe we should get some help," Sam suggested. "I'll call Bobby. Maybe he's run into something like this before."
"Oh, I'm sure he has," Dean replied sarcastically. "Just your typical haunted campus, alien abduction, alligator-in-the -sewer gig. Yeah, it's simple."
"We decided to search the sewers anyway," Sam told Bobby. "We split up. Fallon and I searched one side of the campus. Dean took the other."
"Did you find anything?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah, I found something," Dean said, his tone angry. "Just not in the sewer."
"Oh, here we go," Fallon sighed.
"You think this is funny?!" Dean cried storming into the motel room.
"It depends," Sam replied. "What?"
"The…the…the car!" Dean cried.
"What happened to the car?" Fallon asked.
He ignored her and continued to glare at Sam. "You can't let the air out of the tires, you idiot. You're gonna bend the rims!"
"Whoa, wait a minute," Sam said. "I didn't go near your car, and before you can even point your finger at anyone else, neither did Fallon."
"I know it wasn't Fallon," Dean snapped. "I found this." He held out Sam's wallet. Sam patted his pockets and frowned angrily up at Dean.
"Give me back my money!"
"Oh no, no," Dean replied. "Consider it reparations for, uh, emotional trauma."
"Dean, I think you might be overreacting a little," Fallon said trying to calm things down. Both boys ignored her.
"Dean, give it back," Sam said holding his hand out.
"No."
"Dean, I've had it up to here with you," Sam grumbled.
"Boys," Fallon said moving to the edge of the bed. They ignored her again.
"Right back at you!" Dean cried. Sam lunged for Dean and the two fell back on the bed as they fought over the money.
"Boys!" Fallon cried alarmed now as their wrestling moved them closer to her. "Watch where you're…EEEEK!" Both boys landed on her. Even more unfortunately, Sam was on top of the pile. She groaned and shoved an elbow backwards into Dean's stomach. "Get off of me."
"Okay, I've heard enough," Bobby said.
"You showed up about an hour after that," Dean said.
"I'm surprised at you two," Bobby said. "I really am. Sam, first off, Dean did not steal your computer."
"But I…"
"Sh, sh, sh!" Bobby shushed him and then rounded on Dean. "And Dean, Sam did not touch your car."
"Yeah!" Sam said petulantly.
"And if you two bothered to pull your heads outta your asses, it all would have been pretty clear," Bobby continued to admonish them.
"What?" Dean said.
"What you're dealing with," Bobby said.
"Uh…"
"I got nothing," Dean said.
"Me neither," Sam agreed.
"You got a trickster on your hands," Bobby sighed.
"That's what I thought!" Dean said like he'd known that all along.
"What?!" Sam cried. "No, you didn't."
"I got to tell you," Bobby said. "You two were the biggest clues."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"These things create chaos and mischief as easy as breathing," Bobby explained. "And it's got you so turned around and at each other's throats, you can't even think straight. It didn't need to distract Fallon. She's been too busy trying to keep the peace. She's been the real victim in all of this."
Both boys glanced over at Fallon, who was peering cautiously out at them from underneath her pillow. They shifted guiltily in their seats. "Sorry, Fallon," they both said.
"S'okay," Fallon murmured coming out from behind the pillow.
"It knows you're onto him, and it's been playing you like fiddles," Bobby told them.
"So, what is it?" Dean asked. "Spirit? Demon? What?"
"Well, more like demigods, really," Bobby replied. "There's Loki in Scandinavia. There's Anansi in West Africa. Dozens of them. They're immortal, and they can create things out of thin air. Things as real as you and me. Make them vanish just as quick."
"You mean like an angry spirit or an alien or an alligator?"
"The victims fit the M.O. too," Bobby continued to explain. "Tricksters target the high and the mighty, knock them down a peg, usually with a sense of humor. Deadly pranks, things like that."
"Bobby, what do these things look like?" Dean asked.
"Lots of things," Bobby said, "but human mostly."
"And what human do we know who's been at ground zero this whole time?" Dean said, realization dawning on him.
"The janitor?" Fallon questioned. "I didn't get any supernatural sensation around him."
"He could hide that from you, easily, Fallon," Bobby said. "Especially since you've never come across a trickster before."
Fallon nodded. "Okay. So, what do we do?"
"Well, we need more concrete evidence," Sam said.
"Yeah, but what would that evidence be?" Dean asked.
"These things have a wicked metabolism," Bobby said. "And an awful sweet tooth."
"So, we're supposed to take this guy out if he likes the occasional candy bar?" Fallon questioned.
Bobby shrugged. "I've taken things out on less evidence than that."
"So, how do you take out one of these things?" Sam asked.
"With a stake," Bobby said.
"This thing is a demigod, but you can take it out with a stick?" Fallon asked.
"Hey, I don't make the rules," Bobby replied.
"We have two stakes in the trunk of the Impala," Dean said.
"Good," Bobby said. "I have one of my own."
"Great," Fallon said. "Let's just get this show on the road, shall we?"
"I'll keep him distracted while you and Sam check out his work locker," Dean said.
"Sounds good to me," Sam replied.
Fallon teleported into the employee breakroom of the college building and began to move through the row of lockers. Sam soon joined her and the two quickly started going through them together.
"Hey," Fallon said after a moment holding up a copy of the Weekly World News.
"Alien Abducts Cheerleader"," Sam read the title aloud. "Does that really warrant a headline?"
"When you care more about sensation than truth, I guess it does," Fallon replied stuffing the paper back in the locker. "Let's go wait for Dean." The two of them went outside and Dean joined them shortly after.
"Find anything?" Dean asked.
"A newspaper article about an alien abduction," Fallon replied.
"Great! So, we have our guy," Dean said.
"Just cause her reads the Weekly World News doesn't mean he's our guy," Sam protested. "I mean, you read it too."
"I'm telling you, it's him," Dean argued.
"Look, I just think we need some hard proof," Sam said. "That's all."
"Okay, another thing Bobby mentioned was that these suckers have a metabolism like an insect," Dean said. "They have a real sweet tooth."
"There weren't any candy bars in the locker," Fallon replied.
"You probably missed something," Dean brushed her off.
"Could you stop putting her down?" Sam snapped. "She's more than capable of looking for clues. Besides, I was with her. There were no sweets in the locker. I don't miss thing."
"Oh, right, cause you're Mr. Perfect," Dean replied sarcastically.
"Are you really still pissed at me cause of what the trickster did?" Sam sighed.
"You been a tight ass long before that trickster showed up," Dean replied.
"Okay, that's enough!" Fallon interceded. "We need more evidence than a trashy news article. Sam, go scope his place. Dean and I will keep an eye on him here."
"Fine," Sam agreed. "Just wait until I get back to confront him, okay?"
"Fine," Dean replied.
Dean and Fallon stayed outside of the building for about an hour. Enough time for the sun to go down. Fallon sat on the steps of the building, while Dean paced aggravatingly.
"Screw this!" he finally exclaimed and then hurried up the steps. Fallon followed him
"What are you doing?" she asked.
"Taking care of this trickster," Dean replied pulling a wooden stake out from under his jacket.
"We're supposed to be waiting for Sam," Fallon said.
"Yeah, yeah, Mr. We need more concrete proof," Dean scoffed. "We know who our guy is. No point in delaying this any further."
"So, you're going to take a demi-god on by yourself?" Fallon questioned.
"I won't be by myself," Dean said. "I have you."
"That's sweet, but I've never faced a demi-god before," Fallon said. "I'm not sure I'm as big as an advantage as you're thinking."
Dean clapped a hand on her shoulder and gave a small squeeze. "You'll do fine."
Fallon sighed. "Alright. Where do you think he is?" Dean didn't have to answer. Music started playing; it was clearly coming from the auditorium. The two shared a glance before opening the theatre doors. On the stage a giant, red bed lay. A disco ball spun slowly from the ceiling. And there were two women in lingerie lounging on the bed staring seductively at Dean.
"We've been waiting for you, Dean," the brunette woman said.
"You have got to be kidding me," Fallon scoffed.
"Y-You guys aren't real," Dean said his eyes taking in the barely clad women.
"Trust me, sugar, it's gonna feel real," the brunette replied.
"What is this? A porno?" Fallon muttered moving in closer to Dean's side. The women ignored her.
"Come on, let us give you a massage," the blonde woman purred.
"You know, I'm a… I'm a sucker for a happy ending," Dean choked out. "Really, I am, but I…I'm gonna have to pass."
"They're peace offerings," a voice said from the audience. Fallon and Dean both spun around to see the trickster sitting a few rows away. "I know what you and your brother do. I've been around a while. Run into your kind before."
"Well, then you know that I can't let you keep hurting people," Dean said.
"Come on!" the trickster cried. "Those people got what was coming to them. Hoisted on their own petards. But you and Sam… I like you. So, treat yourself…long as you want. Just long enough for me to move on to the next town." Dean looked hesitant. "If those two aren't your type you can always have Fallon here."
"Hey!" Fallon cried as her clothes suddenly disappeared and she was standing on the stage in only her underwear, a matching set of champagne colored lace panties and bra. Dean glanced at her startled for a moment before his gaze wandered over her like it had the other two women before. Fallon crossed her arms in front of her breasts. "Dean!"
"Sorry," Dean replied quickly, looking back at the trickster.
"I don't think I can let you do that," Dean replied.
"I don't want to hurt you," the trickster said sincerely. "And you know that I can."
"Look, man, I got to tell you I dig your style," Dean admitted. "The slow dancing alien…"
"One of my personal favorites," the trickster said.
"But I can't let you go," Dean admitted.
"Too bad," the trickster sighed. "Like I said, I like you." Suddenly, Fallon was flung backwards and slammed into a St. Andrew's Cross. Her wrists and ankles were quickly captured in iron locks, preventing any chance of escape.
"Are you freaking kidding me?!" she screeched.
"Sorry, doll," the trickster replied. He didn't sound very sorry about it. "I'm afraid I need you out of the fight." He turned back to face Dean. "Now you have no back up."
"I'm going to have to disagree with you there," Dean replied as the back doors to the theater opened and Sam and Bobby stepped into the room.
The trickster looked delighted. "That fight you guys had outside… that was a trick? Not bad. But you want to see a real trick?" A man with a chainsaw appeared and attacked Sam. Fallon watched as Bobby hurried to Sam's aide and the two began to fight off the conjured lunatic. Meanwhile, the two lingerie clad women from earlier attacked Dean. She didn't feel too terrible for him. She suspected this probably was a fantasy of his. She watched as the two tossed Dean into the audience.
The trickster stood up over him. "Dean, Dean, Dean," he sighed. "I did not want to have to do this."
Dean reacted quickly and stabbed the trickster in the chest. "Me neither." The man with the chainsaw disappeared along with the women and the cross Fallon was chained too. She dropped to the ground. When she stood back up, she was back in her clothes. Quickly, she walked off the stage and headed for the exit.
"So, Fallon…"
"Not a word, Dean," she snapped continuing to head for the exit. "We're never speaking of this again." She heard Sam laugh behind her. This was one hunt she did not want to think about again.