Chapter 3:

A/N: Glad people seem to be enjoying this.

Disclaimer: Parker is still mine, the boys, sadly, are not.

"Hey, hey!" Dean yelled, holding his hands up defensively. Beside him Sam did the same, and they both took a couple steps back, closer to the relative safety of the Impala. "Watch where you're swingin' that thing will ya? You're gonna get somebody hurt!"

"I'm gonna hurt someone?" Parker repeated, incredulous. "Says the man with the guns and knives and…and well I don't know what the rest of it is, but it looks deadly!" She threw up her free hand. Her knuckles were bloodless and white, gripping the Bowie knife. "God, and they had me locked up in the mental ward."

"Yeah, and I'm starting to think they had good reason," Sam said. "How'd you get into our trunk anyway?"

"He," she jabbed the knife in Dean's direction, "slipped me a key." Sam shot Dean an amazed, mildly annoyed look. Dean just shrugged. Parker growled. "You know I should have known this was too good to be true. I knew, I knew you two weren't reporters for the Camera right off, but I didn't think murderous psycho either."

"How'd you know we weren't reporters?" Sam asked her. The question drew her gaze, and Dean began to move very slowly away from the car.

"It's Boulder, haven for hippies and tree huggers alike. You two really don't seem the type. Besides, the Camera already ran a story about what happened, most Boulderites don't care two shits what goes on up here, so I kinda doubted they were running a second piece. No, people from Boulder tend to be far more consumed with the latest prairie dog crisis. The car sealed it. You want authenticity, go for a hybrid, not a classic, 60's, gas guzzling muscle car. So who are you, really?" The words came out in a single breath,

Sam was still eyeing the knife nervously. "And you decided to help her escape….why?"

"How would you feel, if someone locked you up, cuz you told them the truth about what we see every day?" Dean scowled, "besides, seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Oh yeah, brilliant."

"Yeah well, thanks for helping me get out of there, but I think I'll be parting ways with you now." Parker started backing up slowly, keeping a careful eye on the brothers. The road's gravel shoulder ended in a slight embankment, which she would have to climb before slipping away into the cover of the forest.

"You won't be able to get away from the cops on your own," Dean told her. Sam moved away from the Impala in the opposite direction. "By now Somerset House has called the cops, maybe state patrol. They'll have a manhunt for you. They'll find you too, if you leave now, and I gotta say, running makes you look guilty as sin. But we can help you. We can help you get away, and help you get your sister back."

Dean could see indecision cross Parker's face. She stopped moving. "Who are you?"

Dean glanced over at Sam, who gave a slight nod. It was time to lay the cards on the table. "That thing you saw in the cave, we hunt it and things like it. We hunt all the dark things that scared you as a kid, but don't anymore because you know they're not real. Except they are. Ghosts, demons, werewolves, it's all real."

Parker's eyes went wide. Then she started to laugh. "Great, so you're nuts and you're crazy."

"At least I've never ended up in a mental ward."

"An oversight I'm sure," she responded dryly.

"Well if we're nuts, then how do you explain what you saw down in that cave?"

"I don't know what I saw, maybe some sort of animal, maybe some loon playing dress up." Parker shifted uneasily. She'd been trying to rationalize what she'd seen for nearly a week now. Then these two guys show up, talking about demons and creatures. She shook her head. She didn't believe them, she didn't want to. Her throat tightened and she felt the hot sting of tears prick the back of her eyes.

Dean's eyes locked on hers. "Don't do that," he said, his voice softening. "Don't lie to yourself because that's what everyone wants you to do. You know what you saw down there, and I'm telling you, it's real."

"No." The protest was weak, even to Parker's ears. She felt like the past week was rushing in on her, pushing her to the brink of an emotional breakdown. Far off in the distance, a siren wailed. Her hand started to shake.

"We're gonna help you, whether you want us to or not." Dean nodded tightly, and Sam charged forward. Instinctively, Parker spun to face him. That's when Dean grabbed her from behind. Parker twisted in his grip, bringing the knife up defensively. Dean was ready. He latched onto her forearm, jamming his thumb into the soft flesh of her wrist just behind the heel of her hand. She dropped the knife with a cry.

The elder Winchester had thought that once disarmed, Parker Quinn would simply give up. Apparently Parker wasn't much for giving up. She fought tooth and nail, flailing wildly in Dean's grasp. "Dude!" he exclaimed. "A little help?" Sam came forward to help his brother subdue the thrashing girl. Parker managed to land a slippered foot solidly in Sam's gut. He exhaled in a loud whoosh, stumbling backward clutching his stomach.

"Let go of me!" Parker screamed angrily. "I think I was better off back at Somerset! At least then people like you are on medication!" Then she threw herself backward, pushing off her feet and slamming all her weight into Dean, hoping to knock him off balance or force him to let her go. Her first objective she managed, as Dean stumbled over the uneven ground. A large stone at the edge of the gravel shoulder was finally his undoing, and he fell, dragging Parker down with him.

Dean landed on his back, grunting as Parker crashed down on top of him. "Ow!" he yelled, letting the dark haired woman go. "You bit me!" he cried incredulously, his eyes wide with shock and anger. Parker rolled off him and scrambled to her feet, only to have Sam grab her, twisting her arm up behind her back. Then he lashed out with a foot, sending her to her knees. Dean drew himself off the ground, his jacket and jeans painted by a layer of dust. He held his left wrist firmly in his right hand, and Sam could see the raised welt of teeth marks on his hand.

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched. Dean noticed. "What, you think this is funny?"

Sam shrugged, shaking his head, his face feigning innocence. "Of course not. A chic kicked your ass, that's not funny."

"She did not kick my ass. She bites. Who bites?"

The girl rolled her eyes, "Oh, I'm so sorry. If it makes you feel better, it's not like I enjoyed the experience." Parker's nose wrinkled and she spit. "Dude, you need to wash." Dean shot her a withering look as he walked back to the Impala.

After a moment or two of digging around, he came out triumphant, a set of handcuffs dangling in the air. "Like I said, we're gonna help you whether you like it or not. We are not the bad guys here." He tossed them to Sam, who caught them in his free hand. Sam snapped the cuffs around Parker's wrists and pulled her to her feet. Sam pressed her head down as he pushed her into the back seat.

--

It was nearly nine by the time the Impala rolled into the parking lot at the Super Saver Motel in Deerville, the last small town on the map before they would need to head up logging roads toward Bear Rock. The neon vacancy sign winked sporadically, casting weird patterns of pink light over the parking lot. Dean parked as far from the office as he could manage, beneath a burned out light. The last thing they needed was for someone to see them dragging a bound girl into a seedy motel room.

Sam went to check in at the front desk. Dean kept a wary eye on their passenger via the rear view mirror. Parker just glared daggers back at him, slumped dejectedly in the back seat, her lips pursed into a pout. "Is there anything I can say that's gonna make you trust us?" A muscle in her jaw flexed, but she didn't say anything. Dean sighed, "fine."

Sam came back, key in hand. The brothers deftly hurried Parker into the room. For Parker's part, she didn't scream. There was no point really. Screaming meant cops, which inevitably meant a trip back to Somerset House, which was precisely in the opposite direction of Angie. No, she'd play along and be quiet till she saw a chance to get away. After all, they might have been highly delusional ghost hunters, but they had sprung her out of Somerset. Nor had either one done anything she could really define as threatening. Hell, had she let some stranger out of a mental ward only to be threatened with a knife not soon after, she'd probably handcuff them too.

Inside, Sam booted up the lap top while Dean flipped through their father's journal. Parker they had handcuffed securely to the bed frame. She sat on the edge of the bed farthest from the window, peering curiously over Dean's shoulder despite herself. The curtains were drawn, and a single bare bulb lighted the boys work space. "What do you think this thing is Dean? Demon? Creature? Shapeshifter maybe?"

The older Winchester shuddered. "Ugh, as long as whatever it is doesn't shape shift into me. Once is enough thanks. I don't know Sammy, it doesn't sound like anything we've dealt with before, and I can't find anything remotely close to it in dad's journal either."

"So this thing," Sam looked to Parker, frowning as the computer searched for a usable wireless connection, "you have anything else to go on other than red eyes and possible wings?"

"You're wasting your time trying to get a wireless connection this far up," she observed mildly. "As for…whatever that was…I don't know. Like I said, I only saw it for a second."

Sam let out a long sigh, knowing she was right. He leaned over and disconnected the phone line before inserting it in his computer. The modem would have to do. Dial up was slow, but at least it was reliable. He glanced over the top of the screen. "Think if you saw a picture you could identify it?"

"I dunno, maybe." Parker swung her feet up onto the bed and stretched out contentedly. Even the cheap mattresses at the Super Saver beat out the simple cots at Somerset. She hadn't slept a full night the whole time she'd been there. "Why does it matter if I can tell you what it is anyway?"

"Different beasties, different ways to kill 'em." Dean supplied. "Shape shifter, silver bullets. Somethin' else, maybe fire, maybe destroying a relic or talisman. We try not to go into these things unprepared."

Parker grunted a little, sliding her free hand behind her head. "You guys are really serious about all this junk huh?" It was not the type of question that required an answer, and neither brother felt inclined to supply one. "How long you been at this anyway?"

Uncomfortable silence filled the room. Finally, Sam answered. "A long time, a really long time."

The next morning was an early one. Sam and Dean had spent a less than comfortable night sharing one of the motel rooms queen beds, the two ancient, beaten extra pillows set between them, dividing the mattress in half. They woke just as the sun started to rise. Dean swung his legs over the bed, running a hand through unruly hair. Parker lay on the second bed on her back, arms and legs spread eagle beneath the covers. "Glad someone slept well," he mumbled to himself.

By mutual, unspoken agreement the brothers rose and faced one another across the bed. Two quick games of 'rock, paper, scissors' later Dean was headed for the small bathroom and a shower and Sam was pulling on a pair of jeans to go scout out coffee and some breakfast. One of these days Sam was going to figure out how Dean managed to win nearly every time.

Dean stepped out of the bathroom slightly more awake then when he'd gone in. He'd drawn on a clean black T-shirt, and the same jeans as the day before. He pocketed his wallet and the handcuff key. His hair was still wet. Parker was still asleep on the bed, but she didn't look peaceful anymore. She lay on her side, knees drawn nearly to her chest. Her face had paled and she was shaking. Dean recognized the signs of being in the throes of a nightmare immediately, since Sam still had them regularly.

He strode over to the girl. "Hey." Parker didn't wake, but now Dean could hear the quiet utterance she kept repeating over and over. 'Angie, run.' "Hey," he said again, louder. This time he leaned over her, giving Parker a small shake. "Hey, wake up."

Her eyes flew open and she emitted a small, strangled cry. She sat bolt upright, scooting away from Dean to cower as close to the headboard as she could manage. Her eyes roamed wildly, unfocused on the room around her. She sucked in air in heaving gasps. "Parker look at me," Dean ordered, leaning over her. He set a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "It's okay. You're safe."

Parker grasped at his shirtsleeve, twisting the fabric in her hand and pulled Dean closer. She still looked freaked, but at least she was looking him in the eye. "Tell me this is all just a dream," she whispered breathily. "Tell me I'm gonna wake up. This isn't real. You're not real."

Dean felt a wave of sympathy for the girl. "Parker I'm sorry," he began gruffly, "but this isn't a dream. It's all real, and so am I."

"Prove it," she demanded huskily. She moved away from the headboard, sliding closer to Dean. Then, much to Dean's surprise she stretched up, locking Dean's mouth in an insistent kiss. Dean froze. He might have been a cad, but he wasn't about to take advantage of the girl's vulnerability. He tried to pull back. Parker's fingers curled around his shoulder persistently. Long legs snaked out to wrap around Dean's thighs, drawing him closer. Warmth coursed through Dean's body. The part of Dean telling him this was wrong warred with the part telling him it felt good.

He drew back. "Parker," he breathed.

"Shut up" she said against his lips before kissing him again. His fortitude was crumbling. This time he pushed back, welcoming the taste of her mouth in his. His knees thumped against the side of the bed. It was an awkward position, half on the bed, half off. He leaned over farther, his hands pressing down on the mattress on either side of her. Parker's free hand moved from his shoulder, slipping down to his waist.

"Dean!" Sam's voice from the doorway made him freeze. Dean straightened quickly, disentangling himself from Parker. He spun, feeling a flush at his neck. Parker buried herself beneath the bed covers. Sam was staring at him in wide eyes amazement, his mouth dangling open. He hand a cardboard coffee hold in one hand, a white paper bag peppered by small grease spots in the other.

"Hey Sam," Dean greeted him, his voice unnaturally bright. "Breakfast?"

Sam threw the bag down on the table by the door. Then he set the coffee down. "Could I speak to you for a second Dean? Outside?" Dean agreeably followed the taller man out of the hotel room. He shut the door behind him. Sam led him a few yards away to stand over by the softly whirring coke machine. "What….I mean… seriously… why…. with…?"

Dean couldn't help but grin. "You know Sammy that's about as inarticulate as you've been in months."

"What the hell Dean? I just went to get breakfast…"

"Hey," he said defensively, "she came on to me." He shrugged and grinned, that, you-can't-touch-me-I'm-golden look he often got. "Not that I can blame her."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm hungry, let's just go eat." He walked back toward the hotel room and opened the door. "Hey Parker, how do you feel about….doughnuts?" He whirled to face Dean. "Where is she?"

"What do you mean where is she? She's right…." Dean shouldered his way past his brother. The bed was empty, handcuffs dangling open from the frame. The brothers rushed into the back, only to discover the small bathroom window unlocked and hanging open.

Sam rested his hands on his hips. "Couldn't resist you huh? Or couldn't resist the lure of the keys in your pocket?"

Dean's hands flew to his hips. He groaned, feeling embarrassed. He should have known. His face darkened. "Even worse than that. Bitch stole my wallet!"

--

Downtown Deerville consisted of exactly four stores: the gas station, a small mom and pop grocery, a greasy spoon diner and the Outdoor Outfitting store. So when the bell above Outdoor Outfitting's front door jangled and Dean and Sam Winchester stepped inside, Parker wasn't exactly surprised. She needed climbing gear to get to Angie, so did they. She just suddenly wished Deerville were a little bigger. She pulled the Rockies baseball cap down lower on her head and shuffled toward the back of the small store.

The brothers went to the front of the shop and started to talk to Celeste, the owner and manager. Parker kept one eye on them through a display of climbing harnesses. Celeste pointed them toward the back. Parker swore beneath her breath and turned to move away. Instead she ran head on into another patron. She mumbled a quick apology and tried to pass the man. He stepped in front of her.

"Excuse me," she said quietly. She stepped to the right and he mirrored her move.

She looked up into the face of a young, college aged man. He was tall, with broad shoulders and sandy blonde hair curling out from under his cap. "Wait a second there darlin', don't I know you?"

It was, in fact, quite possible that he did. She was a frequent visitor to Deerville and the surrounding areas, leading spelunking trips all around the area. Not only that, but she was sure her picture had been plastered all over TV by now, listing her an escaped fugitive wanted in the connection of two disappearances. "I don't think so. Now, if you don't mind…" She took a quick step back to the left and tried to duck past him, well aware at how quickly Sam and Dean were closing in on her location.

The blonde grabbed her upper arm and stopped her. "No, I'm pretty sure I do know you. Never forget a face." His eyes narrowed as he tried to get a better look at her. Parker ducked her head.

"Let go of me," she hissed. Her gaze flicked longingly toward the front door. Celeste was now watching curiously from behind the counter.

Sam looked up from examining the several lengths of rope and belaying devices that Celeste had pointed out on the back wall. Some guy was hassling a girl at the other corner of the store. Her back was to them, but white bandages poked out the sleeves of her grey hooded sweatshirt. Sam elbowed Dean and motioned toward the obviously arguing pair. Dean's right eyebrow shot upward and the disgruntled frown on his face deepened.

"Hey you," Dean growled as he approached. Parker's shoulders slumped, defeated. The blonde Neanderthal stared dumbly at the approaching man. "How about letting go of my girlfriend?" The blonde looked between Dean and Sam and withdrew his hand.

He stepped back. "Sorry guys. My bad." Then he turned and made a quick retreat for the door. Parker tried to walk off too, but both Sam and Dean grabbed an arm. She sighed.

"My wallet," Dean whispered between clenched teeth, trying not to draw any further attention from Celeste. "Now, please." Parker dug it out of the front pocket of her sweatshirt and handed it over. Dean rifled through the contents, relieved to see nothing was missing. With a jerk of his head the brothers started moving toward the exit, keeping Parker between them.

Celeste came out from behind the shop's counter. She walked in front of the door and stopped. It wasn't till she turned around that they saw the shotgun in her hands. Celeste leveled the weapon with the authority of someone who knew how to use it. All three young people stopped dead in their tracks. "Just stop right there," Celeste ordered. "I know who you all are, and you're not leaving."

Chapter 3

Okay, next chapter will get into the creature a little more, I swear. Please review, and to everyone who has so far, thanks!