Chapter 1: A Road Trip, and Maybe Some Lies on the Side
AN: This story will be different from the original Carry On story, to mention a few changes Jameson will not end up with Scott and Dean will be sticking around as a main character.
~Carry On~
Tuesday, January 5th
Jameson's Perspective:
"I have to fight my brother Sam! Here and now. It's my destiny!"
"Sam!"
A sharp knocking startles me out of my nightmare, I look wildly around until I catch sight of Dean outside my window holding a drink carrier and donuts. My breathing slowly evens out as I realize that I am in the Impala, I'm with Dean, and I'm safe.
"You alright there, baby girl." He asks, like he doesn't know what had been racing through my mind seconds before. It was him giving me an out if I didn't want to talk about it and an opportunity if I did.
"Yeah," I say shaking off the horror of what my mind recreated. I rolled down the window and take breakfast from his hands. I grab my cup of coffee from the carrier and take a few tentative sips. It immediately begins warming me up. Dean leans on the car next to my window, watching me carefully.
"We got a few hours until we hit, Beacon Hills." Dean said as I ripped into the donuts, "I'm going to change into my Clark Kent costume. Are you going to be okay out here?"
"I'm always okay." I tell him with a smile. An answering smile appears on his face before he pushes of the car.
"Oh-kay." He replies, tapping the top of the roof a few times before heading to the back of the car. A comment came to mind, and I couldn't resist. With a grin, I stuck my head out the window.
"And don't take forever staring at yourself in the mirror, beauty queen." I tease him. Dean looked around the lid of the trunk with narrowed eyes but doesn't say anything. He just closed the trunk and stomps off to the bathroom his suit bag in tow.
I got the feeling he was going to take forever now because I opened my big fat mouth. Some jokes aren't worth the risk. I placed my coffee down and reached into the back seat to grab my art supply bag. I pulled it into the front and took out my sketch pad and some pencils.
After placing my bag on the ground, I get my mp3 player out of the glove compartment. It didn't have a screen, but for some reason I liked that each song was going to be a mystery. I put the foam head phones over my ears and switched the device on. A classic back beat began to play, the opening to one of my favorite songs, even though the beat was "stolen" from an 80s band.
"I asked her to stay, but she wouldn't listen," I sang softly with the music as I began to add to a landscape I started days before, "And she left before I had the chance to say, oh, the words that would mend, the things that were broken. But it's far too late, she's gone away."
~Carry On~
Dean's Perspective:
Despite Jamie's smart-ass comment, I didn't waste time in the gas station's bathroom. I was done in ten minutes tops. And even in a sweater vest, I looked good. I think I could hold off on the tweed jacket, though.
When I got back to the car, the sass machine was curled up in the front seat drawing with her headphones on. She's has the book angled to her, so I can't see what she's doing. Since she was distracted, I sat up a little in the seat to peer over the top and caught sight of a desert landscape, I could make out the outline of a car, most likely the Impala.
"Hmm…" I voiced in approval, which alerted Jameson to my presence. She looked up over the edge of the sketchbook. She looked me up and down critically.
"Your tie's crooked." She said before going back to her art. I made a face but straightened my tie before starting up the car. I pulled out of the gas station and turned on to the highway. The rest of the trip was quiet, well, it wasn't like the first half of the trip was exactly a party either. Neither of us had been up to talking much lately, not even to each other. Which was probably why I found Jameson about to ditch Cicero. She voiced many of the same feelings that I had, it wasn't fair for S-Sa, it wasn't fair to ask us to live the life he wanted, not just for Jameson and me, but Lisa and Ben. They didn't need our crap.
But he was right that Jameson needed at least the option for a non-hunting life. She and I would hunt until about August, dealing with things the way Winchesters do. Then we would move to Bobby's. She'd go to school in Sioux Falls, I would get a job, and we would hunt during vacations. What she did when she graduated, would be up to her. I just had to spend the next 7 months getting her on board.
Two hours into our trip, Jameson put her supplies and mp3 player away and grabbed the article and information about Beacon Hills I had printed out at Lisa's.
"What story are you going with?" She asked me, shifting through the paper "This town looks small enough that the police would probably know all of the local reporters."
"That I am freelancer." I said turning towards her, "Which means I don't work for a paper."
"I know what it means, smart ass," she shot back with an eye roll, "So, how did you come across this story, Smallville?"
"I was working on a story about state parks and preserves in Northern California, when I came across the homicide."
"Very nice."
"Thank-you."
"And how are you going to explain me?"
"My intern."
"Oooh good idea, a guy and a girl traveling the country together in a car. Yeah, there will no be misconceptions about that." She said sarcastically.
"That happened one time." I countered, referring to a few months ago when a lady at one of the motels we were staying at assumed Jameson and I were together. Before either of us could correct her, she went on about Jameson was much too young for me. Sam…Sam thought it was hilarious.
"Dean, it's been more than one time. Or do I need to remind you of the fan blogs?"
"Good point." I said with a shudder, "Homeschooled kid sister it is then."
"Much better." She approved, she turned to look out the window. I thought she was done with the conversation, when all of the sudden, "Andrew's Construction. Your turn."
"What?" I exclaimed, confused by the sudden shift.
"A-Andrew's Construction, it's your turn. Find a word that starts with B."
I craned my neck to find the next letter in the Alphabet game. We hadn't played this since she was a kid. She said it was a childish game and would put on her headphones to block us out.
"Ah-ha, Beacon Hills 50 miles, you're up, baby girl."
"California, times 10." She said smugly. I playfully shoved her smug face away and looked around for the next letter. It was beginning to feel a little bit like old times.
~Carry On~
I parked in front of the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Station and turned to my sister.
"You good out here, or do you want to come in?" I asked her. Her mouth pinched, and she moved it side to side contemplating the idea.
"I'll go in, I might overhear something in the lobby." She replied. I nodded my head in agreement, she was a smart girl. I turn to open my door and Jameson stops me with a hand on my arm, "Do you have a notebook or anything?"
"No," I said straightening out in my seat, the beck of my head hitting the head rest. I rest the side of hand against my closed eyes. Practical props were more his department.
"Here," I heard Jameson say. I open my eyes and she is holding out her art supply bag. It was a worn leather satchel bag, and it did bulge slightly. It looked exactly like something a travelling freelance reporter would have. I took the bag from her, "There's a notepad in there along with some regular pencils."
"Knew there was a reason I kept you around, kid."
Jameson rolled her eyes with a pleased smile and got out of the car. I climbed out her side and met her on the sidewalk.
"Ready?" I asked her, putting on the big Clark-Kent-like glasses.
"To go inside a police station? Always." She replied, before moving towards the entrance. I followed after her and we went inside. I passed her once we got into the lobby to get to the front desk. The officer at the front desk, was luckily a woman. A nice-looking one if the view of her ass was any indication. As I approached the desk, she turned around I saw that my prediction was correct.
"Yes, how may I…" the deputy working the desk started in a bored voice and then she looked up. Her face immediately changed, and a smile appeared, "you? Hi."
I could feel a smug smile appear on my face at her obvious interest.
"Well hello," I greeted her, "You know if I knew there were officers that looked like you, I would have go-ow!"
My head snapped to me sister whose elbow was still digging into my side. She gave me a pointed look, and cleared her throat reminding me of my mission. I could feel my nostrils flaring, I took a deep breath and turned back to the deputy who was looking at us with confusion.
"Sorry about that, my sister gets a little impatient when she hasn't eaten, Officerr…Reynolds." I explain, reading her name off the gold plate on her chest. She smiled in understanding.
"How can I help you?" she repeated her question from earlier.
"My name is Dean Cole," I said using an alias from a previous reporter scam, "I called earlier about meeting with Sheriff Stil-Stil-."
"Stilinski," the officer finished for me, "I think he's back from lunch, but let me double check."
"Thank-you."
"Must you always embarrass me." Jamie complained the moment, the deputy stepped into the back. She wore a look of utter disgust.
"Well, it's true. You get a bit testy when you are hungry."
"No, I meant your awkward flirting, it's sooo gross." She replied, sticking her tongue out like she tasted something bad. I narrow my eyes and point to a free chair against the right wall.
"Sit."
"Whatever," she huffed. She spun on her heel and definitely took the next to one I pointed to. She picked up a magazine from the table next to her and began flipping through it. I will be so glad when this whole teenage phase was over, I barely made it out of S—it last time.
I sighed and rested my elbows on the table waiting for Officer Reynolds to come back. I was only waiting a few minutes when her head popped around the door to the back.
"You can come back, Mr. Cole." She said.
"Dean," I corrected. She giggled.
"Dean." She repeated. A loud groan rose from the lobby and a I snapped my fingers at my sister, signaling her to shut-up. Reynolds spare her a look before turning back to me, "Just push the gate open when you hear the buzzer."
I nodded and headed to the gate she mentioned. I waited for the buzzing noise and pushed the half door. It squeezed through and passed by Reynolds to get into the bull pen. She led me through a row of desks to room in the back with glass windows. Through the blinds I could see a middle-aged man pouring over some papers. Reynolds knocked on the door to get his attention and then pushed it open.
"Mr. Cole, sir." she announced. The Sheriff stood up and came around his desk to offer me his hand.
"Mr. Cole," he greeted as he shook his hand.
"Sheriff."
"Have a seat," he told me, "Thanks, Reynolds."
She nodded at her boss and gave me a flirtatious smile once his back was turned. I winked at her, before taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of the Sheriff's desk.
"So, what can I do for you Mr. Cole?" He asked as he sat down, "I thought your paper got everything when you were here yesterday."
"Actually sir, I'm a freelance reporter. I was in the area working on a piece about the top parks and preserves to visit in Northern California, when I came across what happen in yours."
"Oh," the Sheriff replied, "Well, I'm afraid you made the trip for nothing, everything that we can release to the public was given to the reporter at The Beacon Hills Gazette."
"Yeah, but that was over 24 hours ago, Sheriff, you have to have something new. Like, the identity of the woman? The coroner's report?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Cole, but they are still doing testing and I don't want to release information like that while I'm in the middle of this kind of investigation."
I could see that I was getting nowhere with this guy, and I looked around the room to see if there was an angle I could take with this guy. I notice pictures on the shelf behind him of a boy, his son, at several ages. The latest put him probably around Jamie's age. I also noticed that he had monitors that had a great view of my sister in the lobby.
"Look, Sheriff, I get it, but you see that girl," I said pointing to the screen with the feed from the lobby.
"Yeah, what about her?" he asked. I could tell he was observing her for anything out of the ordinary.
"That's my kid sister," I tell him, "I'm all…I'm all she's got. If I don't sell a story, I can't take care of her. We are just getting by with me selling these "10 Best" puff pieces, but a murder like this could really help my career, maybe get me a full-time position. So please, can you give me anything?"
The Sheriff took another look at Jamie and then at me. I could see him weighing what he had deduced about me against my story, trying to see if I was telling the truth. And if I was, how much he could tell me.
"How old is she?" he questioned.
"Just shy of 16, and I'm definitely feeling it."
He blew out a small laugh like he knew the feeling.
"My son is about the same age," he confirmed my suspicious, "Every time I turn around, I catch him listening in on my official calls. Like the other night when I was searching for upper half of Laura Hale, found him in the woods looking for the body."
"Sounds like something Jamie would do." I commented, ignoring the name drop like he wanted me to. I wasn't lying though, that is something that she would do and that kid…sorry, Jameson.
"Well, let's hope they never meet, then we really will be feeling all 16 years." He said standing up, holding out his hand, "Sorry, I couldn't help you with your article, Mr. Cole. If you leave me your number, I will call you when I am ready to have reporter come in."
"Sure," I said, reaching in my pocket for a card that Bobby at created for this reoccurring character, "Here's my number and if you can't reach me call the second number. It's the guy I use for assignments."
He took the card and looked it over before placing it on his desk.
"Let me walk you out."
I nodded. I wait for him to circle the desk before following him out into the bullpen. He leads me to a different door that I used to get in. It opened directly into the lobby. At buzzing sound of the door opening, Jamie pops her head above the magazine. When she sees me, she puts the magazine down and stand up.
"Thanks again for your time, Sherriff." I turned to him with my hand out. He shook it and made his exit with a good-bye nod.
"So, how did it go?" Jameson whispered coming up to me.
"I got us a name." I told her, heading towards the door, "And I got a little assignment for you?"
"What?" She asked suspiciously, coming alongside me.
"I need you to go to school."
"What!"
~Carry On~
Thanks again for everyone's support. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. How was my Dean? Do you have any questions? Review and let me know. Stay tuned for Chapter 2 when Jamie goes to school
Chapter 1&2 Timeline (Events are more split up or added to from original episode):
Sunday, Jan 3rd- Scott and Stiles' midnight adventure/ Scott Bit/ Jameson tries to leave
Monday, Jan 4th- Allison arrives in Beacon Hills/The boys meet Derek/ Jameson and Dean head for sunny California.
Tuesday, Jan 5th- Jameson and Dean arrive in Beacon Hills/Day 2 of tryouts/ Alison hits the dog
Wednesday, Jan 6th- Jameson begins her first day at Beacon Hills/ Scott wakes up in the woods and makes first line
Thursday, Jan 7th- Stiles is researching Werewolves in the library
Friday, Jan 8th- Scrimmage/ Party
Monday, Jan 11th- Allison gives Scott a second chance