I don't own Supernatural or any of it's characters. I only own Isabeau and my own original characters.
The impala zooms down a two-lane blacktop. Dean is driving, Sam in the passenger's seat and Isabeau in between the two as usual.
"Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid." Dean groans out.
"Why?" Sam asks, confused.
"Going to visit Mom's grave? She doesn't even have a grave, there, there was no body left after the fire." Dean says.
"She has a headstone."
Dean nods, upset, "Yeah, put up by her uncle, a man we've never even met. So you wanna, go pay your respects to a slab of granite put up by a stranger? Come on."
Sam shakes his head, "Dean, that's not the point."
"Well then, enlighten me, Sam."
"It's not about a body, or, or, a casket." Sam counters.
Isabeau places a hand on Dean's thigh, "It's about her memory, Dean." That was the main reason she even wore her rosary. It wasn't because it was religious, it was because of the memory of her grandfather that it held.
Dean glances over at her, taking her hand in his, "Hmmm."
"And after Dad it just... just feels like the right thing to do." Sam says.
Dean squeezes Isabeau's hand, "It's irrational, is what it is."
"Look, man. No one asked you to come." Sam says. Originally, Sam was just going to go with Isabeau to his mother's grave; just the two of them.
Dean shakes his head, "Why don't we swing by the roadhouse instead? I mean, we haven't heard anything on the demon lately. We should be hunting that son of a bitch down."
"That's a good idea, you should. Just drop us off, we'll hitch a ride, and we'll meet you there tomorrow." Sam tells Dean, moving his arm so that it wraps around Isabeau's shoulders.
"Right." Dean scoffs, "Stuck ... stuck with those people, making awkward small talk until you two show up? No thanks."
Isabeau and Sam kneel before a headstone, Sam is digging in the ground with a folding knife. The headstone reads 'Mary Winchester, 1954-1983, In Loving Memory'.
Isabeau threads her fingers into the tendrils of grass, smiling as it speaks to her.
Hello, Mother.
A bunch of the tendrils of grass call out happily, their words lapping over each other. Isabeau pats the ground lightly and brings her hands into her lap, watching Sam.
Sam pulls a set of dog tags out of his pocket and he sighs, "I think, um ... I think Dad would have wanted you to have these."
He drops the dogtags in the hole and covers them, "I love you, Mom."
Isabeau smiles comforting at Sam as tears come to his eyes. She shifts closer to him, wrapping her arm around him, running her fingers through his hair as they stare at the headstone. Isabeau never got to know Mary, she was only one-year-old when the boy's mother died.
Sam's hand reaches up and turns Isabeau's head toward him. He smiles weakly at Isabeau, "Thank you."
Isabeau presses her forehead to Sam's, "Always."
Nearby, Dean is standing by another gravestone, marked as 'Loving Father', looking pensive.
He walks by the gravestone, seeing a dying tree, and stops, frowning. He walks over to it, knocks on the trunk, considerably.
He then backs up, noticing a perfect circle of dead grass surrounding a gravestone. He crouches down, fingering dead flowers.
Dean takes a card from a man in a suit, thanking him, and then walks over to Sam and Isabeau. "Angela Mason. She was a student at the local college. Her funeral was three days ago."
All three of them start walking together. "And?" Sam asks.
Dean looks at him, "And? You saw her grave. Everything dead around it, in a perfect circle? You don't think that's a little weird?"
Isabeau shrugs, "If you wanted me to talk to nature, Dean, you're fresh out of luck. I can't talk to something that's dead."
Dean raises a brow at her, "Really? I thought that it worked either way?"
Isabeau shakes her head, "No, it has to be alive. Nature it's a living thing, can't talk to it if it dies. Maybe the groundskeeper went a little agro with the pesticide."
Dean shakes his head as well, "No, I asked him, I asked him. No pesticide, no chemicals. Nobody can explain it."
"Okay, so what are you thinking?" Sam asks.
Dean purses his lips, "I dunno. Unholy ground, maybe?"
"Un-" Sam stops, speechless. Isabeau stops with him, tilting her head at Dean.
Dean turns to Sam, "What? If something evil happened there, it could easily poison the ground. Remember the-the farm outside of Cedar Rapids?"
"Yeah, b-"
"Could be the sign of a demonic presence. Or the, the Angela girl's spirit, if it's powerful enough."
Sam nods, grabbing Isabeau's hand, turning away. "Well, don't get too excited, you might pull something."
Isabeau winces, "It's just... stumbling onto a hunt? Here, of all places?"
"So?" Dean asks as they stop at the impala.
Isabeau blinks and huffs out, knowing she was about to step into some rocky territory. But Sam steps in for her, thinking the same things she was, "So, are you sure this is about a hunt, and not about something else?" He asks.
"What else would it be about?" Dean leans against the impala daring Sam to say anything else.
Sam sighs heavily, shaking his head, and moves to open the passenger door, "You know, just forget about it."
"You believe what you want, Sam, but I let you drag my ass out here, the least we could do is check this out." Dean says.
He glances over at Isabeau who is staring at him with a raised brow, she wasn't happy that Dean was putting up his wall again. They just had a talk about this. Isabeau knew that she couldn't pry what Dean was thinking and feeling out of him, but she hoped that Dean would talk to her about it when he was ready.
Sam thinks for a second, "Yeah. Fine."
"Girl's dad works in town. He's a professor at the school." Dean says stepping into the car.
Isabeau knocks on the door of Dr. Mason's office inside the school, with Sam and Dean standing behind her.
Dr. Mason opens the door and Isabeau smiles softly, "Dr. Mason?"
"Yes?" Dr. Mason asks.
"I'm Sam. This is Dean and my partner, Isabeau. We were friends of Angela's. We ... we wanted to offer our condolences." Sam says politely.
Dr. Mason smiles at them, "Please, come in."
They enter and he closes the door behind them. Sitting down, he shows them a photo album. In the corner, Dean is looking through an old book.
Isabeau looks at the photo album with Dr. Mason and Sam. "She was beautiful." Isabeau comments.
Dr. Mason nods, "Yes, she was."
Dean is standing nearby, "This is an unusual book."
He shows the cover of the book he's been paging through. It has carvings of Greek letters and a triangular symbol.
Dr. Mason looks up, "It's ancient Greek. I teach a course."
Dean looks back at the book cover, placing it back on the bookshelf and walks over, "So a car accident, that's, that's horrible."
"Angie was only a mile away from home when, uh…" Dr. Mason trails off.
"It's gotta be hard... Losing someone like that. Sometimes it's like they're s-still around. Almost like you can still sense their presence." Dean empathizes.
Isabeau and Sam look at him, concerned. Isabeau reaches her hand over, and grabs onto Sam's.
"You ever feel anything like that?" Dean asks.
Dr. Mason nods, "I do, as a matter of fact."
"That's perfectly normal, Dr. Mason. Especially with what you're going through." Sam says deadpan, still looking at Dean.
Dr. Mason turns his head toward Isabeau and Sam, "You know, I still phone her. And the phone's ringing before I remember that, uh... Family's everything, you know? Angie was the most important thing in my life. And now I, I, I'm just lost without her."
Sam looks over at Dean who is looking away. Isabeau sighs, placing a comforting hand on Dr. Mason's shoulder, "We're very sorry."
"I'm telling you, there's something going on here. We just haven't found it yet." Dean says, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom as Sam washes his hands and Isabeau is sitting on the edge of one of the motel beds, slipping through one of her grimoires.
Sam looks at Dean through the mirror's reflection, "Dean, so far you've got a patch of dead grass and nothing."
Dean looks up, "Well, something turned that grave into unholy ground."
Sam turns around to face him, "There's no reason for it to be unholy ground. Angela Mason was a nice girl who died in a car crash. That's not exactly vengeful spirit material. You heard her father."
"Yeah, well, maybe Daddy doesn't know everything there is to know about his little angel, huh?" Dean walks away from the doorway and over to Isabeau, standing near her.
Sam follows him, "You know what? We never should have bothered that poor man. We shouldn't even be here anymore."
Isabeau glances up from her book briefly and flips the page. She knew their mother was a sensitive subject for Dean, so she stayed quiet about it. Let both of the brothers talk it out.
"So what, Sam? What, we just bail? Without even figuring out what's going on?" Dean asks, giving him a look.
"I think I know what's going on here." Sam pauses, "It's the only reason I went along with you this far."
Dean shakes his head, "What are you talking about?"
"This is about Mom's grave."
Dean scoffs, "That's got nothing to do with it."
"You wouldn't step within a hundred yards of it. Look. Maybe you're imagining a hunt where there isn't one so you don't have to think about Mom. Or Dad." Sam says.
Dean turns to look at him.
Sam sighs, "You wanna take another swing? Go ahead, if it'll make you feel better." Isabeau closes her grimoire, setting it aside and rubs her eyes. She didn't want to witness either brother punch each other.
Dean shakes his head minutely, "I don't need this crap." He grabs his jacket and keys and starts for the door.
Isabeau gets up, following him, "Dean, where're you going?"
Dean turns around to face her, he could feel his heart beat a little faster as Isabeau looked up at him with worried eyes. He sighs, cupping her face and placing a lazy but passionate kiss on her lips.
He pulls away, caressing her cheek with his thumb, "I'm going to go get a drink…" He says softly, "Alone."
Isabeau nods, understanding that he needed some space to think about things. Dean's eyes soften, placing one last kiss on her forehead and leaving the motel room.
Both Isabeau and Sam stare at the door as it closes on them.
Dean enters Angela's apartment, looking around. He looks over and picks up a framed picture of Angela. He catches a glimpse of a figure in reflection just before she sees him.
It's Angela's roommate, Lindsey. "Who the hell are you?" She turns and shuts herself in her bedroom.
Dean turns, walking toward the door, "Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold on!"
"I'm calling 9-1-1!" Lindsey screams from the room.
"I'm Angela's cousin!" Dean shouts.
"What?"
"Yeah, her dad sent me over to, uh, pick up her stuff, my name's Alan? Alan Stanwick?"
Lindsey opens the door, "Her dad didn't say that you were coming."
"Well, I mean…" Dean holds up a set of keys with a smile, "How else would I have the key to your place?" He laughs reassuringly and also a bit uncomfortably.
Dean sits across from Lindsey as she's crying, blowing her nose into a tissue,
He's slightly uncomfortable at her sobbing. He's seen Isabeau cry in front of him before, but she was different. He could take Isabeau into his arms and hold her in his arms however long she needed.
Dean clears his throat, "So, I'm sure you got a, a view of Angela that none of the family got to see. Tell me, what, what was she like? I mean, what was she really like?"
Lindsey smiles weakly, "She was great."
Dean nods, "Hmm."
"Just... great. I mean, she was so... so…" Lindsey trails off, her smile becoming a frown as she tries to hold back her tears.
"Great." Dean simply says.
"Yeah. Yeah." Lindsey sobs again.
"Yeah." Dean hands her a tissue, "Here you go. You two must have been really close, huh?"
Lindsey nods, "We were. But it's not just her, it's Matt."
"Who?" Dean asks.
"Angela's boyfriend." Lindsey says, like Dean should already know who that is.
Dean shakes his head, "Right, Matt. What about him?"
"He killed himself last night. He cut his own throat. Who does that?"
Dean pauses, "That's... terrible."
"He was taking Angela's death pretty hard, and I guess... I mean, he'd been messed up about it for days." Lindsey says.
"Messed up how?" Dean asks.
"He kept saying that he saw her everywhere." Lindsey explains.
"Well, I'm, I'm sure that that's normal, I mean with everything that he was going through."
"No, he said that he saw her. As in, an acid trip or something."
"Were Angela and Matt a happy couple? I mean, is there any reason that Angela would be angry with him?" Dean asks.
"What?" Lindsey shakes her head, "No, of course not, why do you ask?"
"Just asking. Where did Matt live?"
Sam is sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Isabeau put on the last bit of her clothing as he himself puts on his shirt. His eyes trail down the marks he left on Isabeau's skin, proud of his work.
Isabeau winces as her fingers brush over the marks, "Damn, Stretch." She whispers out with a giggle.
Sam chuckles, "Could've stopped me if it hurt."
Isabeau smirks, walking over to Sam and straddles his waist, "Nah, I, uh, like it." Isabeau says with a nonchalant shrug. When it came to Sam, she liked how rough he could be. Which was opposite of what Isabeau originally thought.
Sam smirks, "Really?"
If Isabeau's heart could swoon, it would. Sam's smirk was deadly, and she loved it, "Really. I know you like it too." Her hands slip under the back of his shirt, feeling the scratch marks that her nails left.
Isabeau and Sam look over as Dean opens the door. Isabeau smiles at him, "Hey."
Dean enters slowly, staring at the two with a smug smirk.
"What?" Sam asks.
Dean just shakes his head, "See you two had a fun time."
Isabeau gets up from Sam's lap and goes up to Dean, placing a soft kiss on his lips, "Where in the hell were you?"
Dean throws his jacket to the side, kissing Isabeau again and walking deeper into the room, "Working my imaginary case."
"Yeah? And?" Sam asks.
"Well, you were right, I didn't find much."
Sam nods, sympathetically and Isabeau shoves her hands in her jean pockets.
Dean nods, "Yeah. Except Angela's boyfriend died last night. Slit his own throat. But, you know, that's normal. Uh, let's see, what else. Oh, he was seeing Angela everywhere before he died. But you know, I'm sure that's just me transferring my own feelings." Dean takes off his button up, tossing that aside as well.
"Okay, I get it. I'm sorry, maybe there is something going on here." Sam apologies.
Dean turns to him, "Maybe? Sam, I know how to do my job, despite what you might think."
Isabeau sighs, "We should check out the guy's apartment." She says hoping to relieve some of the tension in the room.
Dean turns to her and takes a seat, taking off his shoes, "I just came from there. Pile of dead plants, just like the cemetery. Hell, dead goldfish too."
Isabeau frowns at his words. Yes, even the mention of a dead goldfish upset her. Isabeau scratches the back of her head, "So, unholy ground?" She suggests.
"Maybe. I'm still not getting that powerful angry spirit vibe from Angela." Dean gets up, crosses the room to pick up a pink book, "I have been reading this, though."
Sam shakes his head, "You stole the girl's diary?"
"Yeah, Sam." Dean opens the diary, flipping through it, "And if anything the girl's a little too nice."
"Dude," Isabeau starts, both brothers look at her as she gives him a look, "Total invasion of privacy, number one and number two… I'm seriously questioning a girl that keeps a diary in her twenties."
Sam can't help, but chuckle at Isabeau and turn to Dean, "So what do you want to do?"
"Keep digging, talk to more of her friends."
"You get any names?"
Isabeau scoffs, "Are you kidding me? Dean has her bestest friend in the whole wide world." She waves her hand, making the diary fly into it with a smirk.
"I didn't realize the college employed grief counselors." Neil says as they all stand outside of Neil's house.
Dean nods, "Oh yeah. Yeah, you talk, we listen. And maybe throw in a little therapeutic collage, whatever jump-starts the healing."
"Well, I think I'm okay. Thanks." Neil says, going to step back into his house.
"Well, you heard what happened to Matt Harrison, right?" Sam asks, stopping Neil.
Neil nods, "Yeah, I did."
"Well, we just wanted to make sure you were okay. Grief can make people do crazy things." Sam says.
Neil stares at them, "Look, I'm sorry about what happened to him. I am. But if Matt killed himself it wasn't 'cause of grief."
Isabeau tilts her head, "No? Then why?"
"It was guilt. Angie's death was Matt's fault and he knew it." Neil says.
"How was Matt responsible?" Isabeau asks.
"Well, she really loved that guy. But the night of the accident she walked in on him with another girl." Neil tells them.
Isabeau's eyes widen and clenches her jaw, "Hmm." Dean and Sam glance at her. Isabeau never really talked to either of them about the details of her first relationship. All they knew is that he cheated on her, they didn't know how bad it actually was.
"She was really torn up, that's why she crashed the car. Um, look, I gotta get ready for work, so ... thanks for the concern, but... seriously, I'll be okay." Neil goes back into his house, leaving the three of them alone.
Dean turns and looks significantly at Sam and Isabeau.
Dean, Isabeau and Sam walk away from the house and down the street to the impala. "Well, that vengeful spirit theory's starting to make a little more sense. I mean, hell hath no fury…" Dean says.
"So if Angela got her revenge on Matt, you think it's over?" Sam asks.
Dean inhales deeply, "Well, there's one way to be sure."
All three get into the car, "Yeah? What's that?" Sam asks once they close the doors.
Dean glances over at Isabeau and Sam, "Burn the bones."
Isabeau looks at him, "Burn the bones?" She scoffs with a chuckle, "Are you high?"
Dean thinks about that. Isabeau gives him a look, "Angela died last week!"
Dean chuckles, "So?"
Sam gives him a look as well, "So, there's not gonna be bones. There's gonna be a ripe, rotting body in the coffin."
"Since when are you afraid to get dirty? Huh?" Dean asks as he turns over the engine.