Chapter 3

That's it. I can't do it anymore. We've been driving going on 6 hours now and still have about ten more to go before we reach this guy Bobby's place. The only time Dean has stopped was to fill this gas guzzler with fuel or to shout his order for greasy food into a speaker.

I was going to go insane.

It had been great a first. I was able to sit in the back with my notebook and skimmed over my notes. While I was prepping for my final exam, Sam was reading an old leather bound book from the passenger seat in front of me. Neither of us talking and perfectly content to keep it that way…but then Dean ruined that blissful quiet.

Apparently the man was a toddler and needed constant attention.

Sam appeared immune to his annoying habits but if he drummed on that steering wheel one more time with his fingers I was going to throw the nearest object I could at his head. I don't even care if he is the driver and I will gladly wreak the car if it means shutting him up.

Was I irritable? Maybe. But lack of sleep and finding yourself on some kind of cross country road trip with two strangers will do that to a girl.

Not to mention that I was starting to think I was going insane. I mean who would actually believe that Dean and I were connected by some supernatural force?

Crazy people that's who.

It was uncharacteristic of me to even agree to go but for reasons unknown my mind took a leave of absence and here I am. Sitting in the back of a testosterone driven car listening to music that my father would play when he wanted to relive his glory days.

But if it's not here then I would be at home where everything and everyone I saw reminded me of my sister. The pain is still here with me but it's not a constant in your face push anymore.

"How's it going back there Gracie?" I look up from the piece of paper sitting in front of me. I wasn't really reading the words anymore anyway, more just staring, hoping that the letters would rearrange and give me some answer to a question I hadn't asked yet. I see Dean's eyes studying me from the rearview mirror. Shouldn't he be watching the road?

"It's Grace and I could use a break." Harmony would call me Gracie and then somewhere along the line Sean started to but it had always been Harmony's name for me.

"Yeah you two nerds have had your face buried in your books since we hit the road. There's a dinner just a few miles up and they have killer chili dogs."

"Dude, you just ate." Sam said.

"So?" Dean replied like he hadn't just had two cheeseburgers, fries, and a chocolate shake less than an hour ago. It was pretty clear that the man ate like a frat boy getting ready for some kind of marathon and yet he looked…good.

At this point I don't care where we stop as long as I am able to stretch my legs. I might be short but I think Sam has his seat pushed back as far as it will go because my leg room is almost nonexistent. I toss my notes onto the seat beside me and look out the window as we pass a sign.

'Welcome to Bridgeford.

Where the grass is greener.

Population 324'

I'm not unaccustomed to country life since I've grown up in a small town but this place was almost deserted. As we passed storefront after storefront I was quickly able to figure out that this town was dying. There were more abandoned buildings then there were occupied ones. Which was a shame because you could tell that the old brick buildings had been around a long time, probably since the town of Bridgeford was built. The beautiful stained glass and wrought iron fences were now weathered and broken.

It kind of reminded me of the town in Children of the Corn.

When we passed a lot that was now occupied by a burned out house, I half expected to see a man come shambling outside with a hatchet in his hand and his head covered with a burlap sack. That's the vibe this place was giving off. It didn't help that since I was just thrown into the world of supernatural creepiness yesterday, my imagination was running wild.

Despite the desolate appearance of the rest of the town the diner coming into view looked very much alive. Every parking spot was taken, mostly by motorcycles but a few tractors were scattered throughout. It appeared that, Nancy's Home Cooking, lived up to the hype Dean built up. That or Nancy's was the only place to get food in a twenty-mile radius but I was trying to stay positive.

"I am so not going to fit in here." I think to myself as I climb out of the Impala and stretch my legs. I am by no means a city girl but from what I see through the big glass windows it appears there are predominantly two types of clothes inside Nancy's -leather and denim.

I'm not wearing either.

I don't even have time to finish putting my hair up into a ponytail before I feel the pull in my chest and I'm forced to jog across the gravel parking lot to catch up to Dean. He doesn't miss a step though. I'm not sure if it was the thought of chili dogs or the waitress waving at him through the window that made him so gung-ho.

I look over and see a stupid grin on his face. Well that answered my question. It was the waitress.

Sam holds the door open for me and the sound of a little bell has everyone turning around. It feels like all eyes are on me but I know I'm just being paranoid. Ducking my head, I make my way to a booth sitting in the corner. It's next to the bathroom and maybe close enough that I won't need Dean escorting me.

Scooting across the worn seat of the red bench I grab a menu and sit it in front of me. It's more of a habit and I have no intention of looking at it.

Dean, for lack of a better word, plops down in the seat across from me and leans his back against the window. Allowing his feet to take up the rest of the seat and forcing Sam to sit next to me. Which is fine because there is still a good foot of space separating us from physical contact.

No sooner than Sam sat down the waitress from before came over to the table. She was pretty, maybe even gorgeous to people of this town. I had nothing to compare her to. I was the only other woman in this place.

"Well if it isn't Dean Winchester. I never thought I'd see you again suga."

"You know I just couldn't stay away…Amy." I can't help but roll my eyes at the fact he had to read her nametag to figure out her name. The sad part was that Amy didn't seem fazed at all, she actually lit up when he said her name. Like his attention on her was a momentous occasion.

My eyes went back to staring out the window and ignoring the multiple double entendre's being thrown out when the subject of pie came up. There was a corn field lining the east side of the restaurant and the front had a great view of the ghost town. The larger of the buildings was made of brick and seemed to be holding strong against time. 'Library' was engraved in an old English font on the granite stone above the doorway. The doors were barricaded and a sign with a red x was nailed to the wood.

Sudden movement brought my eyes to the front window of the condemned library. The light from the sun didn't seem to make its way inside and all I could see was black. Even with my glasses on I found myself squinting, trying to figure out what drew my eyes over there in the first place. Something was moving. I could sense it but I couldn't see it. What the hell? The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my arms broke out into goosebumps.

"Grace." Sam's words and his hand on my shoulder made me jump. My knees hit the table and the sound of silverware and condiments echoed in the room. "Are you okay?"

"Uh yeah I'm fine." I turned back to the building again but the feeling was gone.

"What do you want to drink?" Amy asked bringing my attention back. I could see she was annoyed with me. There was no telling how many times she asked me that question already.

"Just a coffee please." She didn't even bother writing it down. She did give Dean another smile before she turned on her heels and went to get our drinks.

"You sure you're okay?" Sam again.

No not really. Fine is the furthest thing I am right now. "Yes, really. I just thought I saw something."

Sam looked past me toward the same direction I had been looking at but he didn't see anything either.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm starving. What sounds good to you Grace?" Dean asked as he held up his menu and started looking at his options.

"I'm just having the coffee."

"No. You are going to eat something. This entire time you've been with us and I haven't seen you put anything into your body but coffee. It can't be healthy."

What does he know about healthy?

"He's right Grace."

Great. So both of them were teaming up on me and wanted to play concerned mother.

"I'm an adult and I'm not hungry." Is my argument and I know it is a weak one that makes me seem like a child throwing a tantrum.

"I don't care. You are under our care right now and I'll be damned if you die of starvation under our watch. Besides, until we know what's going on between us, there's no telling what you dying will do to me. So order a burger or something." Dean nods signaling the conversation is over and goes back to looking at his menu.

Who the hell does he think he is? I know exactly three things about these two and they want to boss me around?

Of course my stomach decides to rumble right at the moment I want to make a stand. It would be pointless now because both Dean and Sam raise a smug eyebrow over their own menus when they hear my body's protests.

They knew I was hungry.

And damnit if chicken fingers with honey mustard and fries don't sound really good right now.

The entire meal was tedious.

Dean and Amy spent the whole time flirting with each other and I wasn't sure who was more disappointed that their flirtations couldn't go any further. Sam just ate his salad in silence while he flipped through pages of some book. All of the handwritten notes made me think it was a journal.

I did what I did best. I was a fly on the wall. Trying not to bring any attention to myself while I sat back and people watched. The entire diner was full of characters and I loved watching everything play out. From the old man at the counter who obviously had a crush on the older waitress who just started her shift to the truckers arguing over if Die Hard is a Christmas movie or not (It is). The town of Bridgeford might be dead but the people here are very much alive and full of life.

Now we are back on the road. The combination of REO Speed wagon and tires on asphalt is making my eye lids heavy. Sam had long ago retired and I want to offer him a pillow because his neck is at a weird angle and I am sure that he is going to be paying for it later. I think I'm immune to caffeine now because that coffee isn't doing the trick anymore and I'm about to follow his lead. I can't allow myself to sleep though. If I do, then there will be that brief second of hope when I wake up. Where I think Harmony is still alive and I'm not bound by some guy who chases the supernatural with his brother. That all of this is a bad dream until I realize it isn't. I can't take another day where I have to force myself to accept that this is my life and I'm required to choose between going on or giving up.

The sound of the music is turned off and I see Dean looking at me again from his rearview mirror, "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself? You've been pretty quiet the entire trip."

There is a reason for that but I don't want to say that I'm an introvert and social interactions are nowhere near my comfort zone. Then again I am stuck with him for the foreseeable future so I might as well try and get to know both of them. It would make all of our lives a little easier.

"There isn't much to tell about me." Harmony was the one with an exciting life "I'm a med student and I work part time as a waitress back home."

"So you're not into witchcraft, black arts, or anything like that?"

"What? No. Why is that your follow up question and why would you think that?"

"Just have to cover all of our bases. You never know in our line of work."

What a weird line of work.

"How did you two get into, what was it Sam called it? Hunting?"

"It's the family business. Whose bike was that back at your place?"

I feel like he is dismissing my question but answer anyway, "It was my sisters."

"She the reason you were at the graveyard the other night?"

"Yes." I don't want to talk about this anymore. The only bearable thing about being in the car with them was that I didn't have to think about Harm.

"Sorry. How did she die?"

"What kind of question is that?" My temper is starting to rise and I take an extra deep breath.

"Woah I didn't mean anything by it. Just wanted to know if there was anything suspicious."

"Well there wasn't. The M.E. said Harmony died of cardiac arrest."

"How old was she?"

"25"

"Isn't that a little young for a heart attack?"

"Normally yes but not unheard of. There are instances where a congenital heart defect will go unnoticed and then it might be too late. Our mother died the same way and she was only 31."

"You mentioned a dad, where is he at?"

"I'm I being interrogated? Maybe I would like to get to know the two men who claim to chase the paranormal before I divulge my entire family history. Would that be alright?" The outburst is completely unlike me but Dean has the habit of finding topics I didn't like to talk about. I take a deep breath and look out the window, "I'm sorry. I'm just a little stressed."

"Hey, I get it. I'm just glad you are showing signs of life. For a while I thought you might be a zombie."

I can't help but smile at his joke but then I start to think about some of the things Sam has told me about, "Wait. Are zombies real?"

"You bet your sweet ass they are."

Of course.

A fog surrounds me but it isn't like any fog I've ever seen. This is heavy and leaves a prickly coat on my skin.

I am aware that I am not alone. Instinctively I know that in this vast expanse of nothingness someone else is watching me. Even now I can feel it.

The thought of calling out for help occurs consecutively with the thought that using my mouth and vocal cords feel more like a distant memory.

I will find no comfort here. There is no hope to be found or given in this place.

"Run." That same voice from the graveyard seems to bounce off the vapor and each echo only makes it sound more menacing. It isn't a warning but a demand to start a sick game of cat and mouse. "Run Princess."

I do.

The mist engulfs me, making it impossible to know where I am going but I hope it is away from the source of that voice. I open my mouth to scream but the fog fills my lungs and I can't breathe.

Frantic, I turn looking for help but only find that black form from the other night. It's liquid movements bringing it closer to me. I still want to yell but I can only manage to claw at my throat.

I don't know what it more terrifying -the pressure in my chest or the hand reaching toward me.

My legs give out and I fall to my knees. The bottom of the duster sways in front of my face. Tears are the only voice I have to beg for my life but I know that this thing doesn't care. A malevolent aura surrounds it and somehow manages to suffocate me more just with its presence.

I do not matter anymore. Have I ever? I can't remember.

My life holds absolutely no significance; no value at all.

I am forgotten.

I close my eyes eager that it will make things better. That it will make these awful thoughts go away. It doesn't.

I'm shaking.

Wait. That's not right. Something is shaking me.

I dart up. Gasping for air.

"Grace. Calm down." My eyes start to make sense of what is around me. The fog is replaced with peeling wallpaper and the menacing dark form turns into a confused looking Dean "It's just me. Must have been a hell of a dream."

I know what bad dreams are and what I just experienced was something else. Everything felt too real.

"Sorry." I wipe the sweat from my face and take a second to force the nausea back with sheer willpower alone. "A heck of a dream." I mumble to myself.

"Hey. I'm no stranger to bad dreams, comes with the territory but you should try and get few more hours of Z's."

Yeah not likely.

Sitting up I notice that I was laying on a dated floral couch that looked straight out of the 70's. The once orange flowers are now a dingy brown. The rest of the room looks like a well-organized book hoarder lives here.

"Where are we?" there is no memory of leaving the car so either I am really out of it or someone else carried me in here.

"Welcome to Casa Del Bobby."