The Memory Remains Part 1

Lebanon, Kansas

Dean walked through the hallways of the bunker, still trying to reach Castiel on the phone.

"Come on. Cas, it's me. I've been trying to get ahold of you for days. I don't know what's going on, but we got a line on Dagon… And we got our asses handed to us, even with the Colt. So… Could really use the backup. Call me back." Dean left a message.

"So, no luck with Cas, huh?" Sam asked as Dean walked into the map room.

"Yeah, still AWOL." Dean sighed heavily as he sat down at the table.

"All right, so let's find him," Angela replied.

"I've been trying, Angie," Dean assured. "The GPS on his phone is turned off, and there's nothing in the system about some weird guy in a trench coat getting arrested or turning up dead."

"Right." Sam pursed his lips. "Dean, it's Cas. I mean, this isn't the first time he's dropped off the map, you know? And whatever's happening, he'll be fine. He always is."

"Yeah," Dean replied unconvinced as he cleaned his guns. "What 'bout you guys? You got anything there, reading rainbow?"

"Sam and I stayed up all night, going through every book we have on demons, and it turned out we have a lot of books on demons," Angela replied.

"Anything on Dagon?" Dean asked.

"Mentions here and there, but nothing we can use," Sam answered. "I guess the, uh, Princes of Hell are pretty good at staying off the radar."

"Well, yeah, isn't that kind of their thing?" Dean muttered.

"Hmm," Sam hummed as he looked at his laptop. "Just got an e-mail from Mick. It's a case."

"Good." Dean nodded.

"Looks like a guy named Jarrod Hayes disappeared in Tomahawk, Wisconsin, a week ago. No witnesses. No body." Sam explained. "But Mick says this place has a history."

"Meaning?" Angela asked.

"Well, it means a lot of people go missing in Tomahawk, once a year, every year, from 1898 to 1997, and then nothing until now."

"So, 20 years?" Dean questioned.

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "So, maybe they're starting up again? Maybe it's a cycle of some sort?"

"Well… One way to find out." Dean shrugged as he pointed his gun. "Pew."

~/~\~

Tomahawk, Wisconsin

After dropping Grace off at Jody's, Sam, Dean, and Angela drove to Sheriff Barrett Bishop Jr.'s office. He was preoccupied with sewing a taxidermy animal and seemed disinterested in Jarrod's disappearance.

"I'm sorry," Sheriff Bishop started. "But why the feds interested in Jarrod Hayes?"

"Just followin' orders," Dean answered vaguely.

"Yeah, um…" Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So, what can you tell us about the case?"

"Well… Nothing much to tell. Jarrod and his friends were hanging out at Weathertop." Sheriff Bishop replied. "This make-out spot the kids use out at the woods. And then he ditched his pals to hoof it home. Never made it."

"So, somebody snagged him?" Angela quirked a brow.

"Mm. Maybe." Sheriff Bishop shrugged.

"Maybe?" Sam raised his brows.

"Look, maybe Jarrod did get got. We're working every lead." Sheriff Bishop assured. "But you ask me, he just bailed."

"And why would he do that?" Dean questioned.

"Jarrod's had it rough. Mom left years ago. And his dad… Well, let's just say Jarrod 'fell down the stairs a lot,' you know what I mean." Sheriff Bishop explained.

"Wait a second," Sam frowned.

"Mm." Dean hummed.

Angela's brows furrowed. "If you knew he was being abused, why didn't you—

"We tried." Sheriff Bishop interrupted. "Trying to take a child from his parents, even if they're the worst people in the world, not easy."

"Did you talk to his old man?" Dean asked.

"Can't. Not really. Guy stroked out a couple years ago. Breathes through a tube." Sheriff Bishop replied. "Guess who gets to take care of him? Can you imagine having to spoon-feed the guy that wailed on you for all those years? Everybody's got a breaking point. If Jarrod did blow town, I wouldn't blame him."

"You said that he was with friends the night Jarrod went missing," Dean recalled.

"Yeah, did any of them say anything?" Sam asked curiously.

"Nothing worth repeatin'." Sheriff Bishop shrugged, admiring his work. "Ain't he precious?"

"Uh-huh." Dean rolled his eyes. "Any idea where we can find these friends?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure." Sheriff Bishop nodded.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela went to the factory to talk to Daryn Boston about what happened to Jarrod.

"Daryn Boston?" Angela asked as they flashed their FBI badges. "Agents Lannister, Stark, and Martell, FBI."

"Hell," Daryn muttered, tossing his joint to the ground.

"Yeah, no, it's cool." Dean picked it up and offered it back to him. "Medicinal purposes, right?"

Daryn's brows furrowed as he reluctantly took the joint back. "Uh… Yes?"

"Yeah," Dean smirked.

"We just, uh, wanted to talk about the night Jarrod Hayes went missing," Sam told Daryn.

"What about it?"

"Well, the sheriff says you were with him," Angela replied.

"Yeah, well, the sheriff is a jackass, all right?" Daryn retorted. "Look, he thinks Jarrod just skipped town."

"You don't?" Sam raised his brows.

"I know he didn't," Daryn stressed.

"Did you tell that to the cops?" Angela asked.

"Man, sheriff Bishop's not gonna believe me. We got… history." Daryn answered.

"History?" Dean pressed.

Daryn sighed heavily. "Anytime something happens in this town, he brings me in for questioning."

"Why is that?" Sam asked.

"Why do you think?" Daryn waved his joint.

"Right." Sam nodded.

"Well, look, if you won't tell the sheriff what you saw, how 'bout you tell us?" Dean shrugged.

Daryn paused for a moment, reliving that night. "Look, I ran to save Jarrod, okay? But… The monster, it got him."

"Monster?" Angela inquired.

"Black Bill," Daryn answered.

~/~\~

In a local café that evening, Sam and Angela were researching the local legend of Black Bill while Dean was clearly distracted by their waitress.

"Hi!" the waitress greeted Dean with a smile.

"Black Bill is a local urban legend, dates back more than a hundred years." Sam read from his laptop.

"Warm it up?" the waitress nodded to Dean's coffee.

"Thank you." Dean smiled as the waitress filled up his cup.

"A folklore story from 1907 that—that mentions that… Uh, back then, he was called 'Black William.' So, it looks like sometime between then and…" Sam followed Dean's line of sight and saw the waitress at another table. "Dude, focus."

"I am focused. Yeah, Black Bill. What do you got?" Dean asked.

"All right, well, he lives in the woods, so he's like a local Jersey devil," Angela answered. "And apparently, he has the head of a goat."

"A goat? Like…" Dean mimicked the sound of a goat. "Goat?"

"Yeah, a goat." Angela nodded.

"Well, maybe that's what Daryn saw." Dean shrugged.

"Unless you think he was lying," Sam replied.

Dean watched as the waitress walked to the kitchen. "Mm, nah, I think he's a little too freaked out to be lying. So, we got a, uh, goat dude with a name like a pirate, which is a little insane, even for us. And that bar is… super high." Dean whistled while looking at the waitress. "So, if it is real, what the hell is it?"

"Not sure." Sam sighed. "I mean, there's tons of human-animal hybrid lore dating all the way back to ancient Egypt."

"Right, well, why don't you two figure out what the hell it is, all I'll figure out a way to kill it," Dean suggested. "Okay?"

"All right." Sam nodded.

"Right. Don't wait up." Dean smirked.

"What?" Angela's brows furrowed.

"I already figured out a way to kill it." Dean shrugged.

"How did you—you don't even know what it is." Angela retorted.

"The Colt. Dusts anything. Work smarter, Angie, not harder." Dean replied as he stood up and walked to the coffee bar.

"Oh, don't do the hot coffee thing," Sam muttered in embarrassment.

"Boy, this coffee is hot. Kind of like…" Dean pointed at the waitress. "Hi. What's your name?"

"Carmen," she smiled flirtatiously.

"Can't believe that really works." Angela scoffed.

~/~\~

The next morning, Sam and Angela were already in the café eating breakfast while Dean and Carmen entered. She looked extremely pleased and Dean looked rumpled.

"Yeah. No, no, no. I understand. Yeah. Well… Yeah, gotta go." Sam hung up the phone

"I'll see you later. Okay." Dean smirked at Carmen before he walked to Sam and Angela's booth.

"Good night?" Sam asked his brother.

"Awesome." Dean grinned. "It was an awesome night. So awesome. Ah." He nodded before looking at Angela's plate of pancakes. "You gonna eat that?"

"Uh… Hey!" Angela complained as Dean stole her plate. "Guess not. Be my guest."

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean and offered Angela his veggie omelet. "Here, baby."

"Thanks, Sammy." Angela kissed his cheek. "Stealing food from a pregnant lady." She shook her head at Dean.

"Sorry, kiddo." Dean apologized. "How was your night?" Dean asked as he shoveled pancakes into his mouth.

"Busy. A different kind of busy, but good." Sam answered.

"Right. Books." Dean mumbled. "Anything on goat dude?"

"Yeah, a little bit," Angela replied as she ate the omelet. "We have some idea what we're dealing with."

"Look at this," Sam offered his iPad. "It's a satyr—half man, half goat from Greek mythology."

"Oh, come on." Dean scoffed. "This guy's adorable. He plays a freakin' flute."

"Yeah, Dean. That's—that's Pan. It's his flute." Sam replied.

"Mm." Dean hummed.

"So, listen, satyrs are creatures of uncontrollable lust," Angela started. "They would lead people to the woods for massive orgies."

"Nice." Dean nodded.

"And when the fun was over, the satyr would, 'feast upon the flesh of his victims until his belly was full to bursting with their moist, slippery meat.'" Sam added.

"That's descriptive." Dean cringed. "Uh… All right, what do we do?"

"Well, Angie and I were thinking that maybe we could go talk to Daryn, see if this is, indeed what he saw."

"But?" Dean raised his brows.

"But his mom told us Daryn never made it home from work last night." Angela sighed.

~/~\~

The three hunters walked into the meat factory and towards Pete.

"No screwups, right?" Pete asked one of his employees.

"Excuse me, sir," Sam called out as they flashed their FBI badges. "Agents Stark, Martell, and Lannister, FBI. Uh, we're looking for Daryn Boston."

"Uh, Daryn? Is he in trouble?" Pete frowned.

"No, no, no, not at all," Angela assured. "We—we spoke with him yesterday. Just wanna ask a few follow-up questions. I don't suppose he's around."

"No, Daryn—Daryn didn't show up for work today," Pete answered.

"So, when was the last time you saw him?" Dean questioned.

"Oh, last night. Closed up. Talked about our big day today."

"What big day?" Dean asked.

"You see that walking clipboard over there?" Pete nodded to a man in a blue hard hat.

"Yeah." Sam nodded.

"That's a health inspector. He's trying to shut us down." Pete explained.

"How come?" Angela's brows furrowed in confusion. "This place is spotless."

"It cleans up pretty nice, but our equipment, it's a little out of date," Pete admitted.

"Can't you upgrade?" Dean asked.

"We would if we could. Business isn't exactly booming." Pete scoffed. "We had to shut down half the plant three months back. Meanwhile, our owner would rather play sheriff than actually take care of business."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Wait a second. You're telling me that sheriff Bishop owns this place?"

"Yeah. Barrett Bishop Jr." Pete nodded. "Heir to the Bishop meat empire. His family, they've owned this plant for… forever. Barry's inside. He's hopin' to sweet talk the inspector. You ask me, it's too little, way too late."

"Mr. Garfinkle." The health inspector called out.

"Excuse me," Pete muttered.

"Sure." Sam nodded.

"So, we roll into town, look into a case, talk to the local badge…" Dean muttered as they walked inside.

"And then our one witness goes missing," Angela added. "Last place he was seen owned by the sheriff. Sound like a coincidence?"

"Oh," Dean looked around at the raw meat hanging around. "You guys hungry? I'm hungry."

While the three hunters roamed around, they eventually found sheriff Bishop.

"Excuse me, sheriff." Sam greeted.

"Agents. What are you guys doin' here?"

"Well, we could ask you the same thing, except… Oh, right. You run the joint." Dean chuckled.

"Well, my name's on the paperwork." Sheriff Bishop shrugged. "Pete handles the day-to-day. Are you still trying to chase down Jarrod Hayes?"

"Yeah, and, uh, now Daryn Boston," Angela replied.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Seems to have gone missing, too."

"Jeez. First I've heard of it." Sheriff Bishop shrugged.

"Yeah. So, tell us, what have you heard about Black Bill?" Sam questioned.

"I'm sorry?" Sheriff Bishop scoffed.

"Black Bill," Sam repeated. "Daryn told us he saw Black Bill attack Jarrod Hayes."

"He didn't wanna tell ya 'cause he didn't think you'd believe him," Dean added.

"Well—well… Yeah. He's right." Sheriff Bishop admitted. "Look, 'round here, parents tell their kids not to go into the woods or Black Bill will get 'em. He's the bogeyman. Everyone knows that the bogeyman ain't real."

"Sure about that?" Dean asked as they walked. "Seems like a lot of people go missing in this town. Yeah, one a year every year up until '97."

"Yeah. Okay. I mean, people come to town, they work in the plant for a while, then they get bored and restless, and they, you know, move on." Sheriff Bishop shrugged.

"And Daryn?" Angela asked.

"You know, maybe Daryn thinks he saw Black Bill, but let's be honest," Sheriff Bishop started. "Kid was drunk, high, or both. And I'll bet you dollars to donuts, Daryn's just holed up, sleeping one off. Hell, he's probably waking up right now, safe and sound."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Angela were walking out of the plant as they talked quietly.

"Well, sheriff's not acting suspicious at all," Dean muttered sarcastically.

"Right." Sam scoffed.

"Yeah, but how is he connected to goat dude?"

"Now, that's a good question." Angela nodded.

~/~\~

Dean was eating a burger at the café when Sam and Angela walked in.

"Seriously? Dean?" Sam scoffed as they sat down. "After what we just saw, how—how can you eat?"

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Grow up, Sam, okay? Burger's beef, bacon's pig, Soylent Green's people. But this—this… This is heaven."

"Wow. Right." Angela laughed. "Um, so, what's the word? You find anything?"

"Mm. Yeah, kind of. So, I cross-checked all the names of the people who went missing with the employee roster at Billhook Meats." Dean replied.

"And? Any more of the vics work at the plant?" Sam inquired.

"Try all of 'em." Dean corrected.

Angela's brows shot up in surprise. "All of them? Seriously? So, I guess that means, safe to say that Black Bill is definitely connected to the plant?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Or the family that runs it. Or both. Well, maybe they just run an evil petting zoo on the side."

"So, Angie and I, uh, spent some time at the hall of records," Sam started. "The Bishops founded Tomahawk. Everything. This is a company town. If you lived here, you worked at the plant. The Bishops owned all the houses, all the businesses. Or they did until a few years ago. Looks like the sheriff has been selling off all of their family property. Uh, everything, really…"

"Hmm." Dean hummed as he continued eating.

"…for the plant and family estate." Sam finished.

"Wow. So, who lives at the Addams family house?"

Sam pulled out his phone as it chimed and his brows furrowed. "It's Mick."

"Okay," Dean shrugged. "Tell him we're cool."

"So, creepy house?" Angela asked.

"Creepy house." Dean nodded.

~/~\~

The Impala pulled up to the Barrett family mansion and the three hunters eyed the house curiously.

"Looks empty," Angela commented.

"Well, why don't we check inside?" Dean suggested. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Dean drove around back and the three hunters easily broke into the large home. They split up to cover more ground, using their flashlights.

"Dean," Sam called out as he and Angela stopped in front of a locked door. "Dean, I'd say we just got lucky."

Angela picked the lock easily and Dean peered into the basement.

"Wow. Hello? Goat dude?" Dean asked as they walked down the stairs.

Dean went to turn on the light, but sparks flew instantly, shocking the hunters. As they walked further down, they noticed all sorts of weapons, almost as if it were a dungeon.

"Why is it always the rich ones?" Dean muttered. "I mean, what, are they, like, 'Croquet's all right. But you know what'd be great? Murder.'"

Suddenly, a door could be heard shutting from upstairs. Sam, Dean, and Angela frowned and looked up. Each of them found a hiding spot, and as the sheriff walked downstairs, Dean pointed the Colt at his head.

"Hiya, sheriff." He greeted.

A/N: Hey, guys, I hope you liked this chapter! I hope you're all doing well and staying safe :) Love y'all, xoxo

~Emily