A/N: This chapter title was so bad that I forced myself to change it... the new one's not that much better, but it's still an improvement, trust me. Random note on the comment Sam makes about diners- New Jersey actually has more diners than any other state in the whole country. So ha! Bow down before the power of our amazing burgers, fries, and gyros! (Pronouced "jy-roah," thank you very much. Stupid Arby's commercial calling it a "gear-oh"... that's just an insult.)

Mediatorsk: Ha ha, Fuddruckers... it's a chain of buger restaurants, just healthier than MacDonald's. And I know, the name is really bad. It's gotten to the point where people have started saying "Oh, Fuddrucker!" instead of "Oh, f--k!" lol. But you wanna talk real bad names? There's a county in New Jersey called Middlesex. What the hell?

erica222: I'm glad you thought the chapter was good... I had been having some worries about it's quality.

VisionGurl: Everyone seems to be commenting on how it's been a whole year lol. I can't help it, I span fics by nature :P

CHAPTER FOURTEEN – CHANCE OCCURANCE

"I hope wherever this railroad is is more rural," Dean commented as he looked around from the parking lot. "There are way too many people in this town for us to go unnoticed."

"I'm sure they're used to people trying to find the Hookerman," Sam pointed out. "And plus, I think the more people in a town, the less we'll be noticed."

"You've got a point," Dean replied. "C'mon, I'm starving." He headed towards the restaurant.

"Is there anywhere in this state to eat that's not a diner?" Sam commented, following behind.

They walked in and were seated. It didn't take them long to choose what to eat. In fact, they didn't even bother to look at the menus. Every diner serves cheeseburgers. Dean let his eyes wander. He got halfway around the room before he had to stop and blink to check if he was hallucinating.

"Sam, look over there and tell me if I'm seeing things," he instructed.

Sam turned around in his seat to look at the waitress Dean had pointed to. "Angie?" he asked in disbelief.

She looked over immediately at the sound of her name. "Sam? Dean?" Angela rushed over and hugged them both. "I haven't seen you guys in like, a year! What are you doing here?"

"We were gonna ask you the same question," Dean replied.

"Oh, right. This is a pretty big change of scenery for me, isn't it? But hey, when Igot home, I crashed at my parent's house a few blocks away, and it just stuck."

"You're living at home?" Sam asked.

"Hey, I've got nowhere else to go."

"You… you know you're always welcome back with us, right?" Dean asked somewhat awkwardly.

"Yeah. But trust me, it isn't worth the fear. You don't know how long it took me to get up the courage just to walk into my own parents' basement," Angela laughed.

"So... how did everything work out with your mom?" Sam asked hesistantly. He didn't know what nerves he could be touching upon by saying that.

"Well, she was pretty bad when I got here, but miraculously, she's okay now. We were all really scared there for a while."

"That's good," Sam replied.

"Yeah. So, why are you guys here?"

"The Hookerman," Dean answered.

Angela just laughed. "You're gonna try to go after him, too? First off, you want to be in Chester. It's a little southeast of here. All the other places have had the railroad tracks removed already. They're hiking trails now."

"Thanks for info," Sam said. "You sure you don't wanna go with us, just for this one?"

"See the Hookerman's Light? Hell no," Angela denounced.

"Why do you say that?" Dean asked.

"Don't tell me you're short on info for this one, too. It's just way too creepy for me. Plus, some people say the Hookerman attacks you."

"In what way?" Dean asked. "Car crash, gunshot, knife wound… what?"

"I dunno. It varies depending on who's telling the story," Angela replied. "Classic urban legend."

"Why do they call him the Hookerman, anyway?" Sam asked.

"That's what they used to call the workers who would hitch railroad cars together with their bare hands," Angela informed.

"Isn't that dangerous?" Sam asked.

"How do you think this guy died? Tons of workers used to lose their arms through that. Some versions of the legend say that the Hookerman isn't really there holding the lantern- it's just his arm, floating along."

"Any idea who the Hookerman is supposed to be the ghost of?" Dean asked.

"There's one guy people talk about, Peter Striker. He was a Hookerman who died on the job in… I think 1908."

"Alright. Thanks," Dean nodded. "If we have to find and destroy every unearthed rail from this system, I swear I'm gonna kill someone…"

"You're the one who wanted to investigate this legend in the first place," Sam reminded.

Angela laughed. "Just like old days."

"Angie, if you need to get back to your shift…" Sam started.

"Actually, I'm done for the night," she interrupted.

"Well in that case, sit. Eat."

…………………………………………………

"Thanks for the ride," Angela waved to Sam and Dean as she got out of the car and walked up to her house.

"Dean, if you have any theories on the Hookerman, say them now, because once we get in a motel room, I'm going straight to sleep," Sam said groggily.

Dean looked at the car's clock. 12:15 AM. "This would probably be the perfect time to go check out the railroad."

"What? No way! We've barely even researched this! We could get killed out there for all we know! I say we get some sleep, wait until morning, and then start our investigation," Sam argued.

"Fine…" Dean agreed. "But I hate wasting a perfectly good night." What he really wanted to do was turn the car around and go talk to Angela. He'd been on the verge of saying something all night. It was only a chance occurrence that they'd even met up, and just because he knew where she lived for now didn't mean she was staying there. If he was going say anything to her, he would have to do it at some time during their investigation… and one thing's for sure, it was gonna be awkward.

A/N: I know I have a reputation for short chapters... sorry. Next one's gonna be long though:)