Disclaimer: I do not have any links to the creators or writers of Supernatural, therefore only new characters and situations are mine.
A/N: Unlike the shows writers this story is not related to a story that can be researched, pure figment of a warped mind.
A/N: I was very disappointed at the number of hits and few responses, so obviously most people didn't like this enough to say anything. Just as well it's finished and I don't want to disappoint those people who do appreciate it enough to respond.
Supernatural – Ghost Town
Chapter 2 – Sarah and Emily
As Dean opened the trunk Rebecca said, "should've know it'd be all boys toys."
Dean looked upset, "so what were you expecting, knitting and crochet?"
"Of course not," she snapped. "But its all guns and knives, a bit of salt but not much help with the problem we've got here."
"So what is the problem we've got here?" Sam asked, before Dean could find a wise crack comment.
"A real ghost town," she replied.
"Yeah, there're all over the states, but that doesn't make them a problem," Dean replied confused.
"No, it doesn't, but this is a town that is only ghosts," she replied.
"Come again," Sam looked at Dean.
"When anyone who is looking for someone comes here, they get trapped in the town by the folks at the diner. First you drink drugged coffee, then one of the residents tries to lure you back for a night of passion; if you succumb then you join the residents."
"But you said you hadn't succumbed," Dean countered, "so you can still leave."
"Not that simple, I came here looking for someone who was missing," she responded. "I found him, he hadn't succumbed, but had spent the night here. Seems that's their other way of keeping you and as you know I've been here three nights, which is why I need help."
Sam looked at Dean, "but how can we help? I mean a town of ghosts, salting and burning isn't going to work."
"Not unless you know someone with a crop sprayer," Rebecca jested, but it fell flat. "There's an herb just outside of town, which I need. If you combine that with a couple of other ingredients and place under the road at the town limits on all roads out and under the road in the centre of town, it should banish the ghosts back to their own worlds."
"What's it with you women and the herbs," Dean decried.
"They work without the noise," she snapped back.
The reply made Dean think of something someone had said to him in the past, but he couldn't remember who it was.
"You're talking about a protective circle," Sam queried.
"Similar, but more like a cage to keep them inside," she replied. "If I get it right then they'll be trapped in their own times."
"So if we're trapped how do we get to this herb?" asked Sam being practical.
"You're not trapped yet, but it'll only take one. If Dean goes we can get started on the other things," she responded.
"What? Leave Sam with you, The Witch Queen of New Orleans," Dean accused.
"It's a long time since I've been called that," she laughed, "but time is short so stop quibbling. You need to get this one," she produced a picture. "It's down by the creek half a mile out."
"How come you know where it is?" Dean was confused.
"Because I saw it on my way in and wondered why there was so much. We need a lot."
Sam was amused by the interaction between them. It seemed like they'd known each other for years. Maybe they had but he couldn't remember her. "Hey Dean I'll be ok, you'll be back in no time." Seeing Dean's reluctance he added, "go."
"You sure bro'?" Dean asked running his hand through his hair.
"Just go. Sooner you're gone, the sooner we can get out of here."
Dean left in his car, AC/DC's Highway To Hell blaring out.
"So now you've got me on my own, what do you want to do?"
"I've got the other things in the house, but that's not why I wanted you to stay."
"You didn't want Dean here, but why?" he replied.
"We've met before, all of us. One of your dad's hunting trips that went wrong in several ways," she replied. "Let's just say it's better for you both if you don't remember."
Sam thought about it, Dean was acting strange around her; maybe they'd fallen out over something. "Is that why you stressed about your name?"
"Yeah, Dean won't remember Rebecca, though it is my name," she replied. "But I didn't send him away so I could talk about him; I want to talk about you."
He looked surprised. "Why? I don't remember you, what do you want to talk about?" The ghost girl walked across the lawn distracting him, she was very pretty.
"Sarah was the girl that started all this," Rebecca stated, Sam tuned to look at her. "The girl who wants you was called Sarah. She had a thirst for gifted men, when some of them died in mysterious circumstances she was tried as a witch and hung. Her sister Emma made a pact with her and killed herself. The pact was to punish the town and anyone looking for a friend. Her sister was the town slut, hence her interest in Dean."
"So surely the only people they'd trap would be men?" Sam reasoned.
"Initially, yes, but the trapped men then started trapping women as well. So now no-one is safe," she replied. "But you're right I do want to talk with you without Dean present, because he can be just too sceptical at times."
Sam raised an eyebrow, "about what?"
"About your gift and how to develop it?" she replied.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sam protested.
"Of course you do, but you don't feel comfortable with it," she responded. "It will develop on its own, as it already is, but you might want to encourage the process."
"So why couldn't you say this with Dean here?"
"Dean's instincts are good, but his insistence on looking for trouble needs to be mellowed by your ability to see where to be and what will happen. Between you there's a good chance you'll succeed without getting badly injured, but it needs you to develop the skill that you've been running from since you were a child."
"How come you know so much about Dean and me?"
"I told you. Your Dad and I worked together in the past," she replied. "I've met you before and your ability is almost at the same level it was then, it should have developed as you did. Your Dad never understood it and didn't know how to help. He never understood why you wanted a normal life either."
"So if you worked with Dad and met us, how come we don't remember?" Sam was confused, on one level he knew what she was saying was true, but on another he didn't understand why.
"It was a long time ago and so much has happened since," she replied. "But you will both remember. Just when you do remember I want you to find someone to help you develop your ability, you need to trust it and act on it. The more you trust the easier it will become."
"So when we sort this out, where will we find you?" he asked.
Thinking he was just meaning in the morning, rather than later she replied, "in a Jensen Interceptor half a mile closer to town on the main road."
He looked at her. "You mean you're a ghost too," he stammered.
"Not yet, just a thought form. And believe me this is hard work, so don't take too long getting back in the morning," she laughed. Adding quickly, "don't tell Dean. He's liable to freak later anyway."
&&&&&&&&&&&&
Meanwhile down by the creek Dean had collected the herb that she had asked for and was checking out the local news on the lap-top.
As he saw how many people had gone missing around this area he decided to check out local legends and found the story of Sarah. She and her sister Emma had died in the 1800's. Finding a picture of them, Dean whistled. "That was a close call," he said to himself. "Frigging Witches of Eastwick."
He wanted to check out Rebecca but knew that there wasn't time now. That would have to wait until they'd done whatever it was she wanted.
He drove back to the house and walked in carrying an armful of the herb. "Daddy's home," he called.
Rebecca paled when she heard the call, but hoped Sam didn't notice. "In the back room," she called back, "just getting everything ready."
Dean walked through to a light dining room. Sam and Rebecca were sat at the table. On the table were lots of pots of herbs and several quartz and carnelian crystals.
"So what we making for the witches, herb soup?" Dean jested.
"Just some pouches, but that was the one ingredient I didn't have."
"What are the pouches for?" he asked sceptically.
"A binding spell. Bind the spirits to their own time, hopefully."
"Glad you're so sure this'll work," he replied sarcastically.
"It's my life on the line if it doesn't," she snapped angrily.
"Any chance of a drink?" he changed the subject.
"Only if you brought it with you from somewhere else."
"Man, that sucks. It's hot out there."
"Yeah, well the only liquid here contains the drug and you need to be clear headed." Looking at Dean she added, "you've already had too much."
She motioned him to join them at the table, where she and Sam were sorting the ingredients for the pouches.
"Why the crystals?" Dean asked.
"They'll absorb the negativity and increase the power of the pouches," she replied. "So are you just going to just stand there or are you going to help. Those herbs need chopping and adding to each pile. You'll find a knife and board on the dresser."
Dean was surprised at her attitude but did as he was told. The knife and board seemed familiar. "This purified for the purpose?" he asked as he turned to look at her.
"As always," she replied absentmindedly as she continued what she was doing.
He looked at her, then at Sam before deciding not to say anything.
&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&
T.B.C.
A/N Reviews are always welcome. Signed reviews will be answered.
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