Chapter 4: Decisions
It was later the same day when the brothers returned to their hotel room. Piedmont was a good bit nicer than a lot of the backwater towns they typically stayed in, and as consequence you might expect a better quality hotel. That was not the reality of their situation. The Piedmont Palisades was at one point in time a mediocre quality hotel, but that was likely when it was built-nearly 60 years before. Now it was a relic of peeling wallpaper, dingy carpeting, and linens that looked like they'd last been replaced during the Ford administration. But given that the two had become accustomed to such conditions, neither brother remarked on the room itself when they entered.
"Hey! Magic fingers!" Dean grinned, pointing at a sign beside the bed. He quickly rifled through his pockets, before withdrawing a quarter. He flopped onto the bed and pushed the quarter into the slot, and soon a loud buzzing noise began, along with a jerky thumping as the off-balance bed wobbled in place. "Oh yeah, that's the stuff."
Sam rolled his eyes, "Do you need some privacy with your new lady friend?"
"Fuck you; I've been laid way more times than you have." Dean replied, closing his eyes as he melted into the mattress.
Sam huffed, "Whatever. Anyway, we need to figure out what's causing all the murders at that house. I'm going to look online for some sort of historical society so we can dig into the history of the property."
Dean grunted in agreement, apparently more invested in the bed's vibrations than speaking.
After twenty minutes of Dean feeding quarters into the machine he'd run out of change. So, he decided to get up and take a look at what Sam had been doing. As usual his nerdy big little brother was hunched over his laptop, typing away. Wonder what geekzilla's doing? Dean poked his head over Sam's shoulder; he was in some sort of database with pictures of a bunch of kids.
"That doesn't look like a historical society." Dean stated, "What are you looking up?"
Sam scratched his wrist, "Those two kids earlier, for some reason I can't get them out of my head. I wanted to see if I could research more about them. Maybe see if I could help or something…"
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Dean frowned slightly, before clearing his throat.
Sam shook his head, "But yeah, I did find a historical society, but it says its only open to residents of Piedmont. Or guests escorted by a resident."
"So we need to make friends with a local?"
"Something like that."
***GF-SPN***
The next day the twins were again home with Mrs. Saunders, but today was her 'massage therapy' with Jorgen, so the two of them were locked in the master bedroom while Dipper and Mabel occupied themselves downstairs. Dipper was busy re-reading the journals and annotating information he thought was important, while Mabel worked on a sketch to design her next sweater. A low rumble signaled the return of the Impala, causing Dipper to look up from his reading.
"Hey Mabel, those guys from yesterday are back."
She looked up from her sketch of a sweater with a campfire and roasting marshmallows. "Dipper, we're not going over to spy on them again. We almost got caught yesterday. Besides we don't even know them."
"Mabel, come on, we-"
Dipper was cut off by the sound of the doorbell. The two looked at each other for a moment, then after a second press Mrs. Saunders shouted from upstairs, "One- of- you- oh God get- the- door-"
Dipper closed his mouth tightly as he tried not to picture what was happening upstairs and opened the door. The two men from yesterday were there.
"Hey, its you guys again." Dipper blinked, surprised at the men standing on the stoop. He called back into the living room, "Hey Mabel, it's those guys from yesterday."
Mabel put down her sketchpad and joined Dipper by the door, "Oh, hi! Excuse us for a minute." She grabbed Dipper's arm and pulled him back slightly. Then whispered far too loudly, "Dipper, I told you we weren't going to do anything, we don't even know their names!"
"Mabel, come on, this is my chance to work with real supernatural investigators!" Dipper whispered back.
Sam and Dean both feigned that they couldn't hear the two whispering loudly six feet away in the entry. After a bit of bickering Dipper stepped back forward, Mabel nudged his arm.
"So, before we do anything, what are your real names? We need some proof we can trust you guys."
"I'm Dean, and he's my brother Sam."
"Sam and Dean what?" Mabel asked, suspiciously.
"Winchester."
"Like the gun?" Dipper asked, recalling Grunkle Stan's large gun collection.
"Yeah." Dean replied. "How about you two?"
"I'm Dipper Pines and this is my sister Mabel."
"Dipper?" Dean raised an eyebrow. I always forget that California parents name their kids weird shit.
"It's actually Mason." Mabel replied, which Dipper immediately scowled at.
"But no one calls me that." Dipper replied.
"Okay, Dipper and Mabel… It's nice to properly meet you." Sam nodded at the twins.
"So, do you need our help investigating? I've been reading through the journals again trying to see if there's any stuff in them about cursed houses." Dipper asked, barely masking his excitement.
"Um, kind of." Dean replied, "We need to go to the city historical records, but they won't let us in unless we're residents. And given that two kids saw through our IDs-no offense-we figured maybe you two could get us in."
Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. It was clear he was begging her without asking. She sighed, signaling her relenting.
"Sure, yeah…" Dipper tried to act cool, almost knocking over a lamp as he leaned on the wall. He fumbled and grabbed the lamp, stopping it from falling off the table. "We can help you."
"Awesome, you have school ID or something?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, look!" Mabel held out hers. She'd applied googly eyes to the face of hers and had placed a number of heart and star stickers on the front. "I made it way more awesome."
Before the brothers could respond Dipper pulled his ID out from his wallet, "Mine's still normal."
"Pfft. More like lame." Mabel retorted.
As the two headed out to join the Winchesters Dipper shouted up, "Mabel and I are going to the historical society to do research for a project!" He was met with some mumbled reply that he was half glad he couldn't decipher, given the tone.
A moment later the twins were walking across the street toward the Impala.
"Didn't mom and dad say to never get into a car with a stranger?" Mabel asked, glancing at the brothers.
"Yeah, but they also said that Grunkle Stan was a harmless old man who lived in a boring little town and could use the company." Dipper countered.
"Good point." Mabel replied, opening the back door to the sedan.
***GF-SPN***
After showing Dipper's ID and telling the woman at the records entrance that their uncles were helping them with a report on local history, the Pines and Winchesters were escorted into a sub-basement where dozens of property records were stored. Like many municipal storage spaces, this one had long since been forgotten to everyone except a handful of clerks. This meant that for the visitors there was little to see aside from rows of filing cabinets coated with a thick layer of dust and a wooden table that looked about as sturdy as a 50 year old IKEA bookshelf. The files were an absolute mess, which meant that the four were likely in for a long afternoon.
"Okay, I guess everyone start with a file cabinet. We're looking for anything about Maple View Way or the land that became that property." Sam ordered, starting with a beige cabinet that looked old enough to be his father.
It turned out Dipper was a natural researcher, as within the hour he'd found both information on the house and an associated police report that had been misfiled. While the others had continued searching he'd been making notes, and after a few minutes he spoke, "Hey, look at this."
"You found something?" Dean asked, looking up from a series of property transfers.
"Yeah," He looked up as the others circled around the stool he was perched on. "The house was built on the site of a former farmhouse where a woman, Judith Pratts, committed suicide in the 70s after her husband cheated on her. She'd vowed revenge on all men, cursing anyone who found happiness where she found heartache." He looked up, then pointed at a slip of yellowed paper. "At least, that's what the police report said her husband reported. The neighborhood developer, Ashton Homes, bought the land in 1982 and leveled everything, with the site of the farmhouse being squarely where the murder house is now. Look at the subdivision map if you overlay it on the original property deed." Dipper flipped a page of his notebook with a tracing of the neighborhood plot map over the original parcel. Sure enough, the farmhouse was on the lot where 3476 was built.
"Wow, nice work Dipper." Dean stated, impressed at the boy's finds.
"So it's some kind of ghostly curse?" Mabel asked.
"Sounds like it, but we didn't get any EMF readings when we swept the house." Sam commented.
"Did you try baiting the ghost?" Mabel asked.
"Baiting the ghost?"
"Yeah, Grunkle Stan says you have to bait people into visiting, you could bait the ghost into showing up, then do whatever to stop it." Mabel paused. "Maybe you could use a doll that resembles the dead lady's husband with some of his hair or something. Then the ghost will come and try and mess with her husband, and while she's occupied you can get rid of her."
"That's not a bad idea." Dean replied, "I guess we can find the body and use some of the hair."
"Chances are they're buried in Mt. Sinai, it's where all the Jewish people are buried." Including our parents. Dipper added.
***GF-SPN***
The brothers deposited the twins back at home, not wanting to traumatize them by witnessing the pair unearth a dead body, then drove toward the address that Dipper had provided.
Dean was deep in thought, evident through his furrowed brow as he pulled into the cemetery at twilight.
"Hey, what's eating you?" Sam asked, noting his brother's continued silence.
"Nothing aside from these shitty mosquitoes."
Sam put on bitchface 7, answer the question, Dean.
"Uh, fine…" Dean sighed as he picked up his shovel from the trunk. "What do you think about Dipper and Mabel?"
Sam shrugged, "They seem like really good kids. Mabel almost reminds me of you as a kid."
Dean raised an eyebrow in disbelief.
"I mean it, headstrong, resourceful, out-of-the-box thinker. And I know you won't admit it, but I remember you used to draw all the time when we were little. You're creative, even if you hide it now."
Dean huffed, "Well, you're the same as Dipper. Bookworm, a total brainiac, not to mention good at deception while looking innocent. I mean, the kid came up with a cover story without any coaching and got that receptionist to let us in without even checking our ID at all."
The two arrived at the gravesite. As they dug they continued talking.
"Do you think they're okay there?" Dean asked.
"At the foster home?"
"Yeah."
"They look okay, I mean, they seem physically fine."
"I mean it, do you think they're okay. Their foster mom was getting railed in the bedroom and they were pretending like it was all okay."
"Maybe their foster parents have an open relationship?"
Dean cocked an eyebrow, "Even if they did, those two seem like good kids. Too good to be left in a place like that."
"So, what do you suppose? We can't just get them transferred somewhere else. We aren't child welfare." Sam paused, "Besides, even if we could, there's no guarantee that wherever they end up is better than where they are now. Foster care is messy at best. We can't change that."
"Maybe we could."
"How?" Sam paused, wiping his brow as they hit the lid of the coffin.
Dean muttered something barely audible.
"Dean, I can't understand you if you don't speak up."
Dean repeated himself slightly louder, "What if we took them in?"
Sam put down the shovel. "Took them in? Took them into what?" Sam gestured to the whole they'd dug. "This?"
"No, not this-well, not necessarily this-but y'know, our family."
Sam paused; he had once thought he might have kids of his own. Back when dreams of picket fences and days spent with Jessica were his hopes and desires. He sadly replied, "Dean, we can't take care of kids, we're hunters."
"And so are they! They defeated a demon and they're not even in high school yet!"
"They shouldn't have to deal with demons. They're kids."
Dean exhaled, "But they have. I'm not saying we launch them headfirst into hunts. I am saying they know our world-sort of-and we can help train them to be safe. If they've already peeked behind the curtain it's too late to play ignorant, something'll come after them. They deserve a family who can help them and protect them, and right now we're their only chance."
***GF-SPN***
The bait had worked, and Mrs. Pratts had been summarily dispatched. The curse was broken, which meant there was only one thing left to do.
The doorbell chimed. It was shortly after dinner, which meant both the Saunders adults were home. Dipper and Mabel were both upstairs, trying to do some amount of homework while the other adolescents tried their hardest to make their lives miserable.
"Dipper! Mabel!" Mr. Saunders shouted up the stairs. "Can you come down for a minute?"
The twins did as they were asked, and were greeted by two men standing at the door in suits.
"Hello Dipper, Mabel." The taller one greeted, "We're here with child services to ask if you'd like to transfer to a different home."
"We've been made aware that there is a new residence available, and if you'd be willing to relocate we can escort you there." The shorter man replied. "But the choice is up to you, if you'd rather stay here in this life you may. But if you're willing, we can offer you a different residence."
Dipper tried to conceal his grin; he glanced at Mabel, who likewise was failing to hide a smile. "Yeah, I think so."
"We're up for something new." Mabel added.
"Excellent." Dean faintly grinned. "Get your things and we'll head out shortly."
"You'll make sure two new children are sent, correct? We rely on the payments." Mrs. Saunders asked.
"Yes, we'll make sure." Sam replied.
The two hurriedly packed up their belongings, much to the irritation of the other children. It was 7:14 when the Impala pulled away from Maple View Way. By 7:30 Piedmont was already behind the sedan, growing ever fainter on the horizon.
"So, what's going to happen now?" Dipper asked.
Dean looked in the rearview mirror, "Now we get to a motel. In the morning we'll talk more, but for now, you two need the rest and we need to plan. Welcome to hunting."
***Author's Note***
Hello everyone! From here on out Dipper and Mabel are going to start learning about hunting as well as the brothers. We're going to spend a bit of time in the present, then a few time skips down the road. If you like this, I do appreciate reviews and try to take into account suggestions if possible. Thanks!