It was nearly noon by the time the two Winchesters dug into their hearty breakfasts of pancakes and scrambled eggs. "Well, rocksalt doesn't work, so we're not dealing with a regular ghost." Dean said around a piece of toast.
"And I think it's safe to say we're not dealing with a poltergeist." Sam moved the laptop across the table and tapped a few keys. Pulling up a picture of the mansion's last owner he stared at it critically. "Did you notice how much it, she, looked like Monica Brooks?"
"I was too busy saving you from a getting a terminal facial to catch a good look, Sam." Dean answered.
Sam turned the computer around and pushed so that it bumped Dean's plate as he went to spear a piece of pancake. Still a bit out of sorts from his long night, Dean pointedly kept his gaze fixed on his plate and tried again for the pancake. Dean's grumble of annoyance meshed with the clink of plastic against ceramic as Sam once again pushed the computer at Dean's plate. He looked up at Sam's determined face and sat back in the booth. Holding his fork up high, he let it drop with a loud clatter into the table as he pushed his plate away.
Dean mentally compared the smiling young face on the screen to the revolting creature he'd seen standing over Sam's body. "Ok, so maybe there is a resemblance. But it's just a coincidence, Sam. Granted, she didn't look like a supermodel when Dad and I saw her, but she certainly didn't look like that thing from last night. Besides, we toasted her over a year ago. If it was her, why did she wait so long before making her presence known? And why didn't the rocksalt work?"
Sam had no answers. But he was literally saved by the bell, as the light tinkling of the antique bell hanging above the diner's front door drew their attention. The door was being held open by a young man in all black clothing, his jet black hair spiked up into a mohawk. A young woman dressed in similar attire was trying to maneuver her crutches through the narrow doorway. After a small struggle she made her way into the diner, and her companion led the way towards the back of the room.
Sam turned back around, ready to renew their debate. But Dean's attention seemed to be drawn to the newcomers. His jaw was slack as his wide green eyes followed the couple as they sat down a few booths in front of the brothers. Sam hunched his shoulder and tried to catch Dean's eye. "Dude, quit staring."
But Dean just sat there, openly gawking at the girl who sat facing him. Sam kicked Dean's leg under the table and hissed his brother's name.
Dean snapped out of his stupor and gave an angry, "Hey!" as he kicked Sam back. Both brothers rubbed their throbbing legs as Sam continued.
"What's wrong with you? It's not the first time you've seen a mohawk. In fact, I remember a certain fourteen year old coming home with a similar hairdo, and Dad being royally pissed off."
Dean hunched down in the booth, trying to hide behind Sam. "Like I told him back then, I'd lost a bet, okay? And that's not why I'm staring. That's Ashley!" he whispered loudly.
"Ashley?" he said. Then realization hit him. "Oh my gosh. That's Bill's daughter?" He sneaked a peek at the spiked hair behind him, and then took in his own brother's look. "Huh."
"Yeah, well, she didn't look like that the last time I saw her." Dean said defensively. Sitting up slowly he moved his head slightly to the right to catch another glimpse. Unfortunately for him, the girl chose that moment to look up. Her look of confusion gave way to one of astonishment.
"Dean? Dean Winchester?" she exclaimed.
Sam grinned widely as he watched Dean's face redden slightly. Oh, this was going to be fun.
Dean sat up straight and feigned surprise. "Ashley! Hey, how are you?"
"Great!" she called back. She leaned in close and muttered something to her companion. The boy stood up and faced Sam and Dean. "Hey, guys, come on over! Pull up a couple chairs!" A strange look passed over Ashley's face, but before Sam could decipher its meaning, it was gone.
Sam fought back the laughter as he pretended not to see his brother's distress. "Come on, Dean. We don't want to be rude." Sam couldn't help but laugh as the desperate look on his brother's face turned into one of loathing.
Sam gave a bright smile as he and Dean sat in the proffered chairs. "Ashley, this is my brother, Sam."
Sam found it hard not to stare at the couple. Both had ghostly white faces with dark black eyeliner circling their unnaturally dark eyes. While the boy's lips had three hoop earrings in the bottom lip and one in the top, Ashley's were painted with jet black lipstick. Even their fingernails were painted black, Sam noticed, as they held hands across the table.
Ashley gave a thin smile as she introduced her boyfriend, Isaac. Pleasantries were exchanged, and then Sam asked, "How are you feeling, Ashley?"
"Good, good." She said a little nervously. "It was just a hairline fracture. The cast should come off in a month or so."
"So, Ashley," Dean swallowed, trying to get his voice to work. "You've really changed since the last time I saw you."
The laugh that bubbled out of her was infectious, and all three men broke into smiles. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. When I see pictures of how I used to look, I don't even recognize that girl anymore. I feel like this is a true reflection of my soul."
Sam just nodded his head as Dean went with his patented, "Huh."
Ashley began to play with her necklace as an uncomfortable silence fell upon them. "Did Ashley tell you how she broke her leg?" Isaac finally said.
Sam and Dean exchanged glances, unsure of how to proceed. "Your dad said you fell down the stairs?" Sam ventured.
Isaac shook his head vehemently. "No way. She was attacked by a ghost!"
Ashley pulled her hand away from her boyfriend's and continued to fiddle with the silver pendant on her necklace. "Isaac, could you find the waitress? I'm really thirsty."
"Sure, babe." Isaac kissed the top of her head before leaving the table.
Ashley looked Dean square in the eye and asked, "Did my dad call you?"
"Yeah, he did." Dean nodded. "What exactly did you see?
"I, uh, I don't really remember much. It all happened so fast." Seeing the identical determination facing her, she sighed before continuing. "I was closing up for the night, my dad's been letting me help around the mansion, and as I was coming down the stairs I was pushed hard in the back. I barely got a glimpse of her before I fell."
Sam's ears perked up and he leaned in towards the girl. " 'Her?' You saw a woman?"
Ashley began to resemble a caged animal; her dark eyes looked wildly around as if trying to find rescue. "Really, I don't remember. It's all a blur."
Sam fidgeted in his seat. "But you did see something. Did she have long black hair and black eyes? Her skin pale and…" he struggled to find the right word. "withered?" he finished.
Dean's voice was low as he posed his question. "Did it look like Monica Brooks?"
"Here ya go!" All three of them jumped as Isaac reappeared with the waitress, who set down four glasses of water.
Ashley grabbed Isaac's arm and simultaneously reached for her crutches. "Hon, I'm not feeling good. We need to go. Now."
Taken aback, he looked from Sam to Dean to his girlfriend. "Ok, babe, let me give you a hand."
"Ashley, wait." Dean pleaded. "We're not done."
Positioning her crutches, she said, "It was nice to meet you, Sam. Dean, take care." And with that she hobbled away. A bewildered Isaac followed, leaving a speechless Sam and Dean behind.
Sam blinked at Dean. "Huh."
Dean nodded, equally baffled. "Yeah. Huh."
