A/N: Okay, this wasn't originally where I was heading with this story, but your reviews got me thinking that Dean had to make an appearence. So it's gonna be Dean's POV. Hope ya like it!
Slowly I lifted my eyelids. My stupid cell phone was going off again. For three days I'd been staying at this motel, yet I'd recieved more calls than in two years combined.
Glancing at the caller ID, I noticed that the number wasn't Sam's. Big surprise. Since last night he'd called about thirty times. But I had refused to answer, choosing instead to watch the phone with a broke heart. I still wasn't ready to deal with him.
Last night he'd found out every deep secret I'd kept from him. He knew I wasn't the tough guy I always put on for him.
Maybe if you'd acted like me alittle more you would have had friends. Those words still stung me. That was almost as bad as Sam attempting to shoot me.
Between the two events I was having a difficult time determining if Sam really wanted to be on this trip with me. Yes, I asked him to take care of the Woman In White, but I hadn't forced him to follow me afterwards.
Answering the phone with a grunted, Yeah, I ran the possibilties of who was on the other end through my head. Was Sam using another phone? No, he couldn't have. It was sunset, he'd still be out hunting that spirit.
"Dean?" a woman's voice on the other end asked. She sounded worried.
"Yeah?"
I heard a sigh of relief. "Oh thank goodness. This is Claire Davenport."
I began to rummage my brain for recognition. Nothing was coming.
"I'm Anna's mother. I threw the menu at you after you hit Sam."
"Oh! Right," I frowned. Why was this lady calling me at the end of a Sunday. Usually women like her would be making a nice dinner for her family, spending most of the morning in church. At least, that's what I'd seen from traveling for six months.
"Listen, I am so sorry to bother you. It's just...I need your help with something. Sam left us this number before he left."
"Okay?" I was confused.
"Can you meet me at my house, I'd rather talk to you in person."
After agreeing and getting directions I hung up the phone. Pacing, I began to wonder why this lady would call me out of the blue to talk to me. Was it some plan of Sam's? He had gone to college, he was smart enough to come up with something like that. He could have lied about the ghost, using it as an excuse.
I was thinking faster than I could process. I was beginning to actually believe this was all trick to get me to talk to Sam again.
I wasn't going to give in so easily. I made sure I took plenty of extra time getting ready, cleaning up the room a bit, grabbing some condiments and making a snadwich. Dark had just settled before I pulled my baby into the Davenport driveway.
----
The woman must have been waiting for me. She came running down the porch steps as quick as she could, almost tripping once on a crack in the sidewalk, regaining her balance, and meeting me at my car.
Throwing her large arms around me she cried, "Oh thank God you're here! Oh Dean, I was so worried you wouldn't come."
I stood there awkwardly, holding my arms in the air. This was taking the scheme alittle far, I thought.
"Dean," Claire pulled away, running her hand under her nose. I noticed that her eyes were red and blotchy, her mascara was smudged. It looked as if she'd been crying for some time.
My hands went to the lady's shoulders, trying to sooth her. "Mrs. Davenport, tell me what's wrong. What happened?"
Letting out another sob, she answered me. "It's Anna. She said she was going to protect Dave. She left before I could stop her. It's been over six hours and I haven't heard from her."
A small amount of anger built up inside of me. Claire had made it seem as if Sam was in trouble. Instead, it was her daughter, out with some guy, probablly partying it up.
"Mrs. Davenport, I'm sure your daughter's fine. Ten to one she's lost track of time and will walk through your door any minute now."
Letting yet another sob pour out Mrs. Davenport grabbed onto my jacket. "No! You don't understand! She was dilusional when she left! She said something about Sam being right and having to stop the murders. She wouldn't even explain it to me, just went upstairs, grabbed a backpack, and left. But I saw her sneaking into the shed out back and taking lighter fluid!"
My eyes widened. That hint of fear had returned. "Mrs. Davenport," I said slowly. "Did my brother tell Anna what he was doing today?"
I was hoping; praying Claire would reassure me that Anna had no idea where Sam was, or what he was up to. But how often were the coincidenses of that. It wasn't an everyday occurance that a teenage girl would steal lighter fluid, with no explaination.
"I heard them talking early this morning. She had asked him about the murder that had happened recently, but how is that related at all to where she's at?"
I tried desperatly to remember what Sam had said on all the phone messages. Once again, I cursed myslef for being so hot-tempered and not paying attention to his explainations. There was something about a Lacy. She had done something. No, something had happened to her. She was killed, but for the life of me I couldn't remember how.
"Is there any chance I can look at Sam's stuff?"
Claire looked at me. I knew she didn't understand why Sam's work pertained to her daughter, but I wasn't in the mood to share.
I searched the room haed to toe. Sam always left the information out in the open. For convenience, he'd say. But that night I couldn't find a damn thing relating to the story.
I searched the bed, then his bag, finally reaching the desk. On it, partially closed, was his laptop. What an idiot. There was everything I needed. If it were a snake it would have bit me.
Opening it, I noticed Sam had bookmarked a page. I clicked on the site and read the title. "Horrible Death Stirrs Town"
Reading, I thanked Sam for not making the job of learning about Lacy Wilson too tedious.
A few minuted later I put the computer back to its original spot, having all the information I would get from it.
The woman was back, but this time she had a box of tissues. "We'd had a fight this morning. I...I was just so concerned about her."
Looking at the woman softened me up a bit. I'd always pictured Sam having a life like the Davenports. Nice job, caring wife, beautiful baby. For the longest time I had thought it would have been Jessica to fill the wife spot, but that evil bastard had ruined it all.
"I should have known. When she first came home with that lack eye. She claimed it was from gym, a ball had accidently came her way. She even got her friend to cover for her."
Walking over to the woman, my interest peaked. What was she talking about.
"Anna was such a good daughter. Whenever she wore long clothes she said it was because she didn't like showing her skin. Or it was chilly out. Was I that naive?"
"Mrs. Davenport, you don't know your daughter is in harm, for all we know she might have gotten angry and left for awhile." Like, Sam. He had spent many nights at friends, choosing to stay away from Dad and I after a brutal arguement.
"I know she's in trouble! That boy finally took her! I told her to stop seeing him months ago, but she didn't pay any attention. Now, he's gone too far!"
Instantly, it all pieced togehter. Anna was getting beat up. Lacy had been beat. Was Anna going after Lacy because she was pissed at her?
"Have you tried calling her boyfriend's cell phone lately?"
"Of course I called Dave! Hundreds of times. And Anna's! I've even called Sam's!"
"You called Sam?" I questioned. It wasn't like my brother to not answer his phone. Especially when he was on the job.
"Yes, as soon as Anna left. I left him a message. I told him that whatever the hell he told Anna she was following. But he hasn't called back."
Now it was my turn to get worried. More and more I didn't like the sound of this. Claire had to have called Sam around eleven, when she first saw Anna was up to something. Sam couldn't have been so absorbed in hunting that he would have forgotten to check his messages.
I kicked myself for not coming sooner. If I hadn't acted like the big macho man I still would have had some light to work with.
Pushing all the last days events aside I prepared to go search for my brother. Something was wrong, I could feel it. As I made my way down the stairs, skipping the last two I thought back to today. I'd spent most of it in my room, watching pointless t.v. shows. Sam had called right before he'd gone into the woods, one last time. But I couldn't remember a phone call after that.
Cursing, I began to jog towards the Impala. I should have known. Sam was consistent in calling every few hours. I should have sucked up my ego and made sure he was all right.
How could I have let him go on a hunting trip alone? He wasn't like me. He didn't know as much as I did. Dad hadn't taught him as much.
"Damn it!" I screamed, once inside the car. Hitting the steering wheel I shook my head. What had happened to him. My baby brother. I'd left him for shit, and now he was in trouble and I had no clue where to start looking.
Mrs. Davenport was standing on the porch steps, arms crossed, crying. I knew it was wrong to just leave her like that, but I hated wasting another second at that house.
Turning on the engine I thought of places to look. The woods. But I had not the slightest idea of where they were. I yelled. Putting the car in park I got back out of the car and towards Claire.
"Mrs. Davenport, if you want me to help your daughter I need to know some things."
The woman nodded.
"Where are the woods everyone talks about?"
"Behind the high school, about three miles past the town square."
"Okay, do you have the slightest idea what Anna's plans were for tonight?"
Shaking her head, Claire answered with a somber, "Not a clue."
With promises of calling at the first sign of news, I walked back to the car, trying once again to leave.
----
Spinning gravel as I parked, I took only a moment to cut the engine and get out. The whole ride took less than four minutes, but to me, it felt like an eternity. I opened the trunk, unsure of what to get. I wasn't positive with what I was dealing with. Deciding on a shot gun with rock salt, a matchbox, a small container of lighter fluid, and a pistol in my jacket, I closed the back.
I had to take a breath. Rushing into things was what got people hurt. It left the door open for mistakes. I had to think about where to look. But first...
Digging my cell out of my pocket I hit Sam's number. It felt like my heart had stopped. I hoped beyond anything Sam would pick up, tell him he was sorry for all the crap that happened between them and tell him he and Anna were just hanging out at a coffee shop, safe and sound.
One ring
Two rings
Three...
His voice mail picked up. I let our a fustrated grump. What had happened to him?
"Sam...it's Dean. Pick up. Tell me where you are." I waited a moment. "Sam...I'm sorry for punching you. But if you don't answer this phone and tell me your alright I swear I'm going to hit you again..."
Silence. Deep in my heart I knew he didn't know his phone was ringing.
With more determintation than ever, I slammed the phone shut and began walking into the woods, not giving a damn what was ahead of me.