Author's Note: Wow. Thank you all soooo much for the reviews! I was actually disappointed with the last chapter. I felt like I rushed it, but seeing that people loved it was so encouraging. Again, I hope I didn't miss replying to anyone's review, but if I did then I apologize and I do appreciate them more than I can say.
XXXXXXXXXX
"Seriously, Dean? It's been almost two weeks! I'm not an invalid, man!" Sam complained from his place on the couch.
"Doc said you had to stay off your feet as much as possible for at least two or three weeks," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and dropped into the big recliner across from the couch. "A skull fracture isn't something to mess around with."
"It's not gonna kill me to walk from here to the kitchen by myself," Sam grumbled. "You do know I make it from the bedroom to the couch every single morning, right?"
He knew that a skull fracture was worse than the concussions they usually had to deal with, but damn if he wasn't bored out of his mind with Dean, Jess, and Bobby refusing to let him do anything for himself. His head was pounding just from the small argument with his brother, but he refused to take any more of the painkillers that had been prescribed to him at the hospital. He'd accidentally grabbed Dean's phone instead of his own a day or two after getting back to Bobby's and had seen a video Dean, laughing hysterically the entire time, had taken of him singing on the couch. He certainly didn't intend to give his older brother any more leverage.
"Doctor's orders," Jess came in with soup for him and sandwiches for her and Dean. Even two weeks after the incident, Sam still got nauseous if he ate anything too heavy. "No arguing."
Jess pushed Dean over a little and curled up in the oversize recliner next to him. Since the accident and the hospital the two of them had gotten closer. It seemed like they were finally figuring each other out and getting comfortable with the new dynamic of having Jess there. Dean would never admit it, but he had developed one hell of a soft spot for the tiny woman.
"Do we have any leads on a new job yet?" Sam changed the subject.
"Found a couple of possibles," Bobby said. "Handed em off to other hunters, though."
"What about something small or easy?" Dean asked. "Something that Jess and I can handle. I'm going stir crazy being cooped up and not working."
"How do you think I feel?" Sam muttered. He knew he was being a whiny brat, but in truth he was still in some pain from both his stomach and his head and it was making him cranky. He was feeling better every day, but even he couldn't deny that he wasn't one hundred percent yet.
"Nothin' I'd feel comfortable sending a brand new hunter on," Bobby said. "Sorry Jess. You did damn good against those witches, but none of us are willing to risk pushing you into the deep end of the pool too fast."
"I understand," Jess sighed. She and Dean had advanced with her training while Sam was laid up and she had continued to get better, but she understood why all three men were so protective.
Dean's phone let out a buzz and he cursed as he dug around for it. When he finally found it he let out an even louder curse.
"Watch your tongue, boy," Bobby warned. "What's the fuss?"
Sam and Jess were looking at him curiously, too. Normally Dean didn't get this upset about anything short of one of them getting hurt.
"Coordinates," Dean said angrily.
"Coordinate?" Jess repeated. "What about coordinates?"
"Whenever we'd get separated from Dad and he wanted us to go somewhere or to meet him, he'd leave us a set of coordinates," Sam explained. "Once a Marine, always a Marine. He never really did get it through his head that he was our father, not our drill instructor."
"Well, aren't the coordinates a good thing?" Jess focused on the least touchy area of that statement. "If he's texting you with coordinates then maybe that's where he is and he wants us to meet up with him."
As if on cue, Dean's phone buzzed again. If it was possible, his stormy look got even darker. He clutched his phone so tightly for a moment that all three other hunters were worried it would break and drive shards of plastic and glass into his hand.
"Dean?" Jess reached out and gently touched his wrist. She knew there was no way she'd be physically able to loosen his grip, but her hand on his wrist seemed to do the trick.
"It's not a meeting," Dean tossed his phone over to Sam. "It's a job. Asshole couldn't be bothered to answer his phone when his own son's injured and in surgery, but he can text me two weeks later with a damn job! Just like nothing's happened!"
"Gee," Bobby said dryly. "Looks like you shrunk a few inches there, Sam."
"Huh?" Dean was jerked out of his rant. Replaying his own words in his head he managed a wry smile. "Okay, that did sound more like something Sammy would say. Doesn't change the fact that Dad couldn't be bothered to make sure Sam was okay, but he doesn't have an issue sending us a job."
"Your Daddy's always had his own way of doing things," Bobby adjusted his ever-present baseball cap. "I'm not sayin' he's right or wrong, but you know as well as anybody that it's just how he is."
"What kind of job is it?" Jess redirected the conversation. She obviously hadn't met John yet, but at this point she wasn't impressed with the man. Between the little Sam had told her about him and the fact that he'd never responded to Dean's call when Sam was in the hospital, she had no desire to meet him anytime soon.
Before Sam could answer, Dean's phone buzzed in his hand again. This time it was Sam who glared at the phone like it was something evil.
"Now what?" Dean asked.
"Dad says he expected us to be doing more than sitting around at Bobby's," Sam said angrily. "He must have the GPS on your phone turned on. Since when can he even work a cell phone, anyway?"
"Since I taught him how last year," Dean told him. "I guess the fact that we just took out those two witches escaped his notice."
"I guess," Sam scowled at the phone. "The article he sent says that a couple of teens turned up dead at an abandoned inn in Pennsylvania."
Sam tossed the phone aside and pulled his computer over into his lap. He tapped at it for a minute, pulling up a few local websites.
"Okay, here we go," he said. "Looks like this place is in a small town in Northeastern Pennsylvania. Supposedly, it was boarded up because people kept reporting 'strange occurrences' while they were staying there. It got a bad reputation and lost so much business that the owners couldn't keep it up and had no choice but to close up shop."
"Pennsylvania?" Jess asked. "That's halfway across the country."
"Standard for this line of work," Bobby said gently. "Does it look like there's any truth to the claims?"
"All of them are pretty similar, so maybe," Sam answered. As much as he wanted to stay angry at their father, researching a case always put him into hunter mode. "Most of the accounts say one of two things. The first group is people who stayed in Room 10. They all report having furniture or their things moved around the room, the door slamming in their faces, or closing the door and having it open right back up. It looks like local legend says there's a ghost named Sally who haunts that room."
"Well, Sally doesn't sound particularly dangerous," Dean said. "What's the other group say?"
"The second group claims to have seen a woman on the main stairs or walking across the golf course," Sam continued. "They call her the Lady in Brown. Rumor has it that she committed suicide back in the 20's by throwing herself off of the cliff this inn is built on."
"That sounds more like vengeful spirit material," Dean pointed out.
"Sounds like a pretty simple salt and burn if you can suss out who she was and where she's planted," Bobby said. "There can't be too many places in a small town like that."
"I guess we're going to Pennsylvania, then?" Jess asked.
"We're going to Pennsylvania," Dean confirmed.
He wrapped an arm companionably around Jess and leaned his head back, trying to stave off the headache that was building. He'd never been one for the touchy, feely, chick flick moments. But he'd also never had a little sister before. Dean made up his mind that he was going to have to have a long chat with Sam about making that official…
XXXXXXXXXX
Thirteen hundred miles later, the three young hunters rolled into Milford, Pennsylvania. It had been a long two days back on the road, and all any of them wanted to do was collapse onto the beds in the small motel they'd managed to find.
Sam had just barely convinced Dean and Jess to let him come along on this hunt. They both thought he needed more time to heal before he could think about running around after a ghost. He had refused to be left behind, though. He'd actually threatened to stow away, which had only left them with the option of letting him come along.
"You weren't kidding when you said this was a small town," Dean flopped down onto the bed closest to the door. "I bet there are more trees than people around here."
"It's supposed to be a pretty historic town, so that's not really that surprising," Sam had been doing more research on the ride, hoping to come up with something that would help them identify the Lady in Brown. He and Jess had both been thrilled to find out that the town had a few local historical sites and they hoped they'd get the chance to visit them.
"Did you find any actual useful information?" Dean asked.
"Not yet," Sam admitted. "There have been a lot of so-called accidents with people falling off of that cliff, though. That's how our ghost offed herself, so I'm not buying the whole accidents thing."
"I grabbed this out of the lobby," Jess came into the room, waving a pamphlet. "It says pretty much the same thing that the website does, but I figured it couldn't hurt to take a look anyway."
Sam took the pamphlet from Jess and scanned it quickly. It did have basically the same information as he'd found online, but included several speculations on who the Lady in Brown might have been.
"So get this, it looks like there were a couple of silent films shot at this inn," Sam explained. "An actor-slash-director, Tom Mix, used to like filming at the Cliff Park Inn. A couple of the rumors say that our Lady in Brown was either an actress or a crew member in some of his movies."
"Any chance these rumors include a name?" Dean asked, although he wasn't exactly hopeful.
"No," Sam confirmed. "But this gives us a start, at least. There's bound to be someone who knows what movies were shot there."
"Fine," Dean groaned. "Later, though. Right now I'm exhausted and need lunch. Where's the nearest place to eat around here?"
"I don't remember passing any diners," Jess put in.
"Me neither," Sam did a quick internet search. "Okay, looks like the nearest diner is a couple of miles from here. Or there's a couple of fast food places about fifteen minutes away."
"Nothing healthier than that?" Jess grimaced.
"Doesn't look like it," Sam's face mirrored Jess's. "Small towns like this aren't exactly known for their health food. There used to be a place, but it went out of business."
"Diner it is, then," Dean pushed himself up off the bed with a groan. "Sam, why don't you come with me so Jess can rest? We'll pick something up and come back with it."
"I'm okay," Jess said, but then promptly yawned so hard they practically heard her jaw crack.
"Want to try that again?" Dean laughed. "Come on, Sammy. We'll be back soon."
The brothers piled back into the car with identical groans. Dean felt bad as he watched Sam dig his fingers into his sore back. The Impala was a good-sized car, but his brother's 6'4" frame was not made for being confined in a vehicle for countless hours.
"So, this isn't really my thing, but we need to talk," Dean said.
"You? Talk?" Sam glanced over tiredly. "That's it, the world must be ending."
"Shut up," Dean ordered, but there was no bite to the words. "Dude, I'm gonna flat-out tell you. You're an idiot if you don't marry that girl."
"Okay. Random," Sam looked at his brother. "Where did that come from?"
"I don't know," Dean shrugged and pulled the car in front of a small building with a neon sign proclaiming it to be the Milford Diner. "Gee, that's original. Listen, I just know that Jess is special. I've never seen you this happy, and it's not every day that you find a woman who accepts the whole hunter thing. I know I'll never find someone like that, but you did and you shouldn't let her go."
"I wasn't planning on it," Sam almost looked embarrassed as he climbed back out of the car. "I was shopping around for rings for a couple of weeks before you showed up. After everything that happened, it just didn't seem like the right time. There's nothing saying you're not going to find someone though, Dean."
Dean waved that comment away. He knew his womanizing ways and hunter lifestyle put his chances of finding someone way past slim and well into the land of none. Right now he was more concerned with making sure Sam didn't mess up his chance to have as normal of a life as possible.
"Don't bother shopping anymore," Dean ordered. He backtracked back to the car, opened the glove compartment, and pulled a small envelope out. "Dad kept this after Mom…anyway, I think Mom would've wanted you to have it. She'd have loved Jess."
Sam opened the little envelope and saw an engagement ring and wedding band set. He had to blink back tears for a minute.
"These…these were Mom's?" he asked.
"Yeah," Dean said shortly. "C'mon. Let's get some food and get back."
They both stayed quiet as they waited for their food and on the drive back to the motel. Sam clutched the envelope tightly. This was big. They didn't have much left that had been their Mom's, but Dean still wanted him to have one of the few, important things that they did have.
Jess was asleep on the far bed when they got back. Sam went over to wake her up while Dean set their food down on the small counter. As soon as Sam touched her shoulder, Jess tensed and came immediately awake. She automatically reached for the knife stashed under her pillow, and Sam had to grab her wrist to keep her from grabbing it.
"Easy, babe," he laughed. "It's just us. We brought food."
"I almost stabbed you," Jess grumbled.
"No you didn't," Sam dropped a kiss on her nose. "Come on and let's eat. Then we can head out to the inn and see if our Lady in Brown is home."
Jess followed him back over to the little table and noticed that he was limping a little. She looked at him sympathetically. Two years ago when they moved in together, she'd noticed that if Sam sat at his desk studying for too long, his back would cause him agony. Apparently it was the same with a car. Instead of sitting next to him at the table, she detoured to her bag and pulled out a heat pad. She tossed it into the microwave for a minute and then rested it against Sam's back.
"I really think you should stay back here for this hunt," Jess suggested. "You were already hurt to begin with and now your back is acting up."
"I'll be fine," Sam waved her concerns away. "My back always locks up like this after sitting for too long. Half an hour with this heat pad and I'll be ready to go."
"Jess is right," Dean put in. "This ghost already killed a couple of kids and you said yourself that people have been falling off of that cliff in 'accidents' for years now. You're not at full strength yet."
"I can handle a damn ghost hunt, Dean," Sam glared at his brother, but then grinned slyly. "I don't know how much help I'm going to be with the digging for this salt and burn, though."
"Convenient," Dean threw a French fry at his head.
They actually waited closer to forty-five minutes before Jess would let them leave the motel. She insisted that Sam's back needed more time to un-cramp and Dean needed some down time before he got back behind the wheel. Both of them grumbled and muttered something about feeling just fine, but Jess was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind to something. She'd put her tiny body in front of the door and refused to move, knowing that neither of them would risk hurting her by physically moving her out of the way.
"You might just be even more stubborn than he is," Dean mumbled when she finally let them leave the room.
"I'm one up on you there," she grinned. "I know I'm the person in the room who has the longest stubborn streak. You're the one who's apparently just catching on."
"Don't look at me," Sam was trying to stifle a laugh. "I've known her for three years and lived with her for the last two of those."
"You're both incorrigible," Dean glared at them. "Can we go, please?"
It was a fifteen-minute drive from the motel to the abandoned inn. Getting out of the car, all three hunters looked around at the view.
"Wow," Jess finally said. "This is…this is amazing!"
"I can see why it was so popular," Sam agreed.
They tore themselves away from the view and walked back to the trunk. Dean handed Jess one of the shotguns, took another for himself, and then paused to look at Sam.
"Good god, Dean, I'm not gonna break," Sam snatched up the last shotgun. "Can we be professionals about this, please?"
Sam led the way into the inn. He wasn't surprised to see the crime scene tape scattered everywhere, but he was surprised at the state of the lobby. He'd expected the usual for a haunted house. Broken windows, torn up carpets, things like that. Instead, it looked shabby, but otherwise somewhat maintained.
"Let's start down here and then move up to the rooms," Dean glanced up the stairs and then moved towards the big dining room and kitchen beyond it.
Sam and Jess shrugged and followed him. Just like the last hunt, Dean had ordered them all to stay together. Between Jess's inexperience and Sam's injuries, he'd said, it was much safer than splitting up with a homicidal ghost on the loose.
They stalked slowly through the dining room and the kitchen. The EMF meter was going wild, and Dean reached into his pocket to turn it off. It had really just been a formality anyway. There was no way there could've been that many corroborating stories and there not be some sort of truth to them.
Once they were in the huge kitchen, they separated a little. They stayed within sight of each other, though. Suddenly, a can of pineapple (of all things) shot out of the gloom of one corner aimed right for Dean's head. He ducked it, only to have another one come sailing straight at him.
"Whoa!" Dean stumbled back. The second can had clipped him on the shoulder. "What the hell is up with the pineapple?"
As if in answer, another can flew out of the corner and hit the counter hard enough to explode the can and send pineapple bits everywhere. So far all of them had been aimed at Dean, but Sam still put himself protectively between Jess and the pineapple-throwing ghost.
"Okay!" Dean yelled. "We're going!"
He waved them towards the door that led back to the dining room and Sam started backing himself and Jess towards it. One last can came flying at Dean's head as they made their escape.
"Did our Lady in Brown have an issue with pineapples?" Dean asked, angrily brushing bits of pineapple out of his hair. "I don't remember reading about that."
"Um, well, there was nothing about the Lady in Brown throwing cans of pineapple," Sam looked guilty. "There might have been a few rumors about the ghost of a chef, though?"
"Seriously?" Dean glared daggers at him. "You didn't think to maybe bring up the ghost of a pineapple-throwing chef?!"
"Of the three ghosts rumored to be here, he was the least likely," Sam said. "Supposedly people called him 'Uncle Stew' and he tended to be your usual, temperamental chef. Liked to throw cans of pineapple or pineapple juice at people who he thought had sub-par standards where food was concerned. I don't know what his issue was with pineapple, though."
"I guess we know why they were all aimed at Dean, then," Jess couldn't help a smirk.
"Guy just doesn't understand what good food really is!" Dean shouted towards the door. The slam of another can hitting the door made them all scurry more towards the middle of the dining room.
"As amusing as that was, I don't think he's actually the main problem," Sam said. "He might be pissy, but it didn't look like he was actually trying to cause death by pineapple."
"Agreed," Dean said. "Let's head for upstairs. The main stairs and Room 10 are where the real action's supposed to be."
They tramped up the stairs without incident, although they were all on alert. If the Lady in Brown really was their killer ghost, the long staircase would be perfect for her to push one of them. Dean paused, pretending to look at something, and positioned himself behind both Sam and Jess. If the Lady in Brown did show up and try to push one of them, he'd make sure they couldn't tumble to the bottom or break their necks.
"Subtle," Sam muttered, rolling his eyes. "Twenty-two years, Dean. You don't think I know your tricks?"
"Don't care," Dean stayed stubbornly behind them, giving Sam's shoulder a small shove.
They glanced into each room as a precaution, but didn't stop until they reached Room 10. The door was closed, but after a moment it creaked partially open. A blast of chilly air hit them.
"What'd you say this ghost's name was?" Dean asked.
"Sally," Jess answered. "She must like us. The stories say that if she likes you, she invites you in. If not, she slams the door in your face."
"Great. I'm liked by a ghost," Dean said softly. He moved into the room and looked around.
Since the inn was so old, the rooms were all fairly small, and it didn't take them long to clear this one. At least nothing had been thrown at their heads up here. Yet.
"What the hell with this place?" Sam wondered. "Two of the ghosts seem pretty active. But not the one we're looking for."
Dean sat down on the bed to think of their next move. The encounters with the testy chef and Sally had him pretty convinced that the Lady in Brown had to be the one who'd killed those kids. He was just about to suggest that they take a walk down to the cliffs when the temperature in the room plummeted.
"Salt guns," Dean shot off the bed and turned, looking for the spirit they'd apparently managed to piss off.
Don't sit on the bed…
It was nothing more than a whisper, but nods to each other told them that all three had heard it. The voice had seemed to come from everywhere, so there was nothing to aim the salt guns at, but none of them lowered them.
Mine…
The whisper came again. A second later, the door was flung open, slamming against the wall.
"Looks like she doesn't like people sitting on her bed," Jess observed.
"I think we've worn out our welcome with Sally. Time to go," Sam suggested. Most of the stories said that Sally wasn't violent, but he didn't exactly want to test that theory.
"We should take a look through the golf course and by the cliffs anyway," Dean agreed. For good measure, he turned and called back into the room, "Sorry, Sally."
He'd just barely managed to get out the door when it slammed shut. He winced at the thought of what would've happened to his fingers if he'd been unlucky enough to get them in the way of that door.
"You're pissing ghosts off left and right around here," Jess said. "First the chef and now Sally."
"What can I say? I have that effect on people," Dean quipped. "Maybe third time will be the charm and the Lady in Brown will like me."
"That would be your luck," Sam laughed. "To piss off the two nice ghosts, but impress the homicidal one."
"You do know we should probably cleanse the whole place, right?" Dean turned serious again. "We're calling these other two 'nice', but they're both more than capable of hurting someone if they wanted to."
Sam nodded, but didn't answer. Any ghost had the potential to turn vengeful, but the research he'd managed to pull up on Uncle Stew and Sally had him doubting that they were a real risk. Both ghosts had died long ago, of natural causes. For whatever reason, they hadn't moved on, but neither had any major reasons to turn vengeful.
They made their way across the golf course and over to the cliffs without incident. Looking out over the view, Sam couldn't help but wrap his arms around Jess's waist. Dean cleared his throat loudly and glared at Sam. Sam glared back, but waved his brother away.
"So, um, Jess," he stammered.
"What is it, honey?" she looked up at him. "This view is gorgeous, isn't it?"
"Absolutely it is," Sam smiled. He toyed with the envelope in his pocket. "I was…I mean, I just…I wanted to…"
He was making a fool of himself and he knew it. He was going about this all wrong. First of all, in all of the sappy romance movies Jess had forced him to watch, when a guy proposed he was supposed to get down on one knee. Second of all, the guys in those movies never got their tongues so twisted that they couldn't even string a full sentence together.
Before he could even start to recover, all hell broke loose. The air around them went frigid and he had a moment to see a pale figure and angry eyes. Then, Jess was careening towards the edge of the cliff and he was frozen in place.
"Jess!" he struggled against the hold that the ghost had over him, but it was no use. He couldn't budge. He had to watch, helpless, as Jess's foot slipped and she disappeared over the edge. At least he had the comfort of knowing he wasn't going to have a lot of time to mourn Jess since he was probably next. At this point, death was going to be preferable.
A shotgun blast sounded and he suddenly found himself free. He lunged for the edge of the cliff, knowing it was too late, but unable to stop. Whatever it took, he was going to find a way to get down there. You always heard stories of people surviving the impossible. This could be one of those situations.
"Sam!" Dean clutched at the back of his jacket. "Stop, we'll find another way down. You'll kill yourself this way!"
"So what?" he snarled.
"Sam?" a small voice came from below them. Wait, from below them?
"JESS!" Sam struggled even harder to get away from his brother.
Peering further over the edge, he saw Jess clutching to a root and a stone that were jutting out away from the cliff face. He stretched, reaching down for Jess, but even with his impossibly long limbs, he could barely brush the tips of her fingers.
"Hang on, baby," he comforted her. "Dean, we need rope. I can't reach her."
Dean was already racing for the car, though. As soon as he'd gotten over the shock of realizing that Jess was actually still alive and clinging to the cliff wall, he'd realized that they wouldn't be able to reach her. He ripped a coil of rope out of the trunk and raced back. The whole time he prayed with everything he had that the Lady in Brown wouldn't attack again.
If Sam hadn't waved him off, Dean knew all three of them would likely be dead right now. It was pure luck that he had walked far enough away that when the Lady in Brown had appeared, she hadn't seemed to notice him. Unfortunately, Sam had been between him and the ghost. The gun was only loaded with rock salt, but Dean knew that at close range there was still the possibility of hurting him. He'd adjusted slightly and fired, but there was no doubt he'd be having nightmares about watching Jess go off the edge of the cliff and being helpless to do anything about it.
Sam was still lying on his stomach, talking soothingly to Jess. Well, as soothingly as he could. In reality, he wanted to break down and panic. Thankfully, a lifetime of training had taught him that panicking was useless and often deadly. Still, seeing the woman he loved hanging on by her fingers made him want to yell and scream and find the ghost who'd done this so he could kill it.
"I'm here," Dean dropped down next to Sam and lowered the rope. He'd tied a loop in the bottom that Jess could slide her foot into instead of just hanging on.
"Put your foot in there, baby," Sam's hands shook, but his voice was steady. "We'll have you back up here in just a second."
Jess's right hand tightened around the root she was clinging to as she slid her left to grab onto the rope. Her feet were pressed into the side of the cliff, and it took a bit more willpower to convince her left foot to respond to her attempts to move it. She had just barely seated her foot in the loop at the end of the rope when the root she'd been holding onto snapped. She clamped both hands tightly around the rope and squeezed her eyes shut.
"It's okay. You're okay," as soon as they had her back on solid ground, Sam pulled Jess close and rocked her back and forth. "I've got you. You're okay."
Jess threw her arms around Sam and held on even tighter than she'd held to the rope. She was trying hard to fight against them, but a sob managed to make its way out and the dam broke. Sam kept rocking her and whispering comforting things into her ear, and Dean reached out to rub her back.
Twice now, he berated himself. This is the second hunt you screwed up and someone else got hurt for it.
"Dean," Sam was still holding Jess, but was now looking at his brother. "Stop it."
"Stop what?" Dean decided to play dumb.
"Stop blaming yourself for this," Sam glared at him. "And for what happened to me. They were accidents. Those tend to happen in this line of work. Let's go back to the motel and see if we can figure out who this bitch is."
Dean nodded in agreement. He wasn't about to let go of the guilt on this, though. If he'd been paying attention to how vulnerable they'd made themselves, this wouldn't have happened. They'd been practically taunting the damn ghost, standing that close to the edge of the cliff. He was going to kick himself over that mistake for a long time.
Seeing that Jess wasn't ready to stand on her own yet, Sam scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the car. Her sobs were dying down, but she was still shaking like a leaf. Rather than try to disentangle himself from Jess, Sam crammed them both into the backseat.
Dean got them back to the motel, although they got an odd look from the motel manager on their walk from the car to their room. Running a hand absently through his hair, he realized he was still covered in pineapple bits. Coupled with the fact that Sam was still carrying Jess, they certainly painted quite a picture. Scowling at the manager, Dean quickly let them into the room.
"She's sleeping," Sam laid Jess down on the bed and threw a blanket over her.
"Good," Dean answered. "You should, too. I need a shower first. I hate the smell of pineapple."
"Not a chance," Sam pulled his laptop out of its case. "I need to find out who she was so we can get rid of her. That bitch made a big mistake going after Jess."
Dean raised an eyebrow. Comments like that were more his style than Sam's. Then again, Sam had never had someone to be over-protective of. He wanted to argue with his little brother and order him to get some sleep, but he couldn't. He wanted this Lady in Brown dead, too.
"Okay, but wait until I get out of the shower before you try to kill yourself with research," Dean ordered. "I got a pretty good look at her, so if you can find out what movies were made at that inn, I might be able to ID her."
XXXXXXXXXX
"Dolores Rousse," Dean pointed to an old black-and-white picture on Sam's laptop the next morning.
He and Sam had stayed up most of the night searching for what movies had been made in this area and then looking through pictures of the actors and actresses. Which was a whole new level of frustration, because there weren't a lot of pictures. Jess was sitting on the bed with her back snuggled into Sam's chest.
"Do we know where she was buried, at least?" Jess asked timidly.
"There's only two graveyards around here, and only one that's been here since the 1920's," Sam told her. "Problem is we didn't really think this through. It's not going to just be a simple salt and burn."
"Why not?" Jess looked at them in confusion. "I thought that to get rid of a ghost…"
"Usually," Dean stopped her. "This is different, though. That cliff is over 900 feet high. When she threw herself off of it…well, things wouldn't have been pretty at the bottom. If we miss even one drop of blood or one hair, she won't be gone."
"Don't you think it's a pretty long shot for there to still be blood or hair left from the 1920's?" Jess asked. "It's been eighty-five years."
"We've seen weirder things than that," Dean said.
"We think we might have another plan," Sam said. "It's not the best plan in the world, but sometimes if you can figure out what's holding a spirit here, you can get them to move on willingly."
"So now we have to try and talk to her and figure out what's keeping her here?" Jess turned to look at him skeptically.
"Not if I can figure it out from here," Sam assured her. "Hey, research was practically my second major. There's not much I can't find out once I have a name."
"Why don't we go get breakfast?" Dean suggested. "He gets testy when he's researching a hunt and I could use something to eat. We'll hit that diner again."
"Bring me back a bagel and some coffee," Sam was already moving towards his computer. "You two stay gone for at least an hour. I should have something by then."
Jess followed Dean out to the Impala and slid into the passenger seat. She kept her head down, staring at her hands. She hadn't slept well and had nightmares most of the night of being pushed over that cliff.
"Excuse me!" Dean was just about to pull out of his parking spot when the manager from last night strode up and knocked on his window.
"Can I help you?" Dean asked in his I'm-pretending-to-be-polite-but-I-really-want-you-to-leave-me-alone voice.
"Miss? Are you okay?" the man spoke past Dean, straight at Jess.
"Of course," she looked at him in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"It's just, you didn't look well when you came back yesterday evening," the manager pointed out. "And now you have dark circles under your eyes and scrapes on your arms."
The manager looked meaningfully at Dean. Half-asleep as she was, Jess didn't catch it. Dean, on the other hand, instantly understood what that look meant.
"Why does everybody think all I do is go around beating people?" he slammed his fist into the steering wheel. "Two weeks ago I had to convince a doctor that I don't abuse my brother, now I have to convince some nosy motel manager that I don't beat my brother's girlfriend. She's fine! We had a hiking accident! That's where the scratches came from and that's why she was so shaken up. Anything else you'd like to know, or can we go get some breakfast now?"
"I'm sorry," the manager took a few steps back from the car, but looked utterly unapologetic. "If you're heading to the diner, you'd better be ready to answer more of the same questions, though. We're a small town and we watch out for each other. Everyone's going to want to be sure she's okay."
"Perfect," Dean muttered. "Thanks for the concern, but we're fine."
Throwing the car into gear, he was stopped again. This time by Sam, who came trotting out of their motel room.
"Find something already?" Dean asked as Sam slid in behind him.
"Oh yeah," Sam said. "It turns out that Dolores was in love with that actor-director, Tom Mix. Another actress said that Dolores decided that the inn was the perfect place to tell Tom that she loved him, but he wound up rejecting her. She killed herself just a couple of days after that."
"Hell hath no fury," Dean commented. "So, now we know what's keeping her here. She's still pissed that Tommy-boy didn't like her."
"How do we get her to move on, then?" Jess asked. "I mean, we can't exactly turn back time and get this guy to start loving her."
"No, but we can summon him," Sam said.
"It is way creepy how you said that so comfortably," Jess glanced back at him tiredly.
"You'll get used to it," Dean assured her. "If we can summon him to the inn and get them face-to-face, hopefully they can work out their lovers' quarrel and she can move on."
"But if they don't work it out, aren't we just adding another ghost to the mix?" Jess asked.
"Not likely," Sam hesitated before going on. "If they don't work it out, it's more likely that they'll kill each other. Either way, she's gone."
They ate a quick breakfast at the diner, trying their best to avoid the curious and, in some cases, downright angry looks directed their way. They'd only stayed long enough to eat, but in that short amount of time they'd had to explain at least half a dozen times that Jess was okay.
"That was uncomfortable," Sam muttered as they got back into the car and headed for the inn again.
"Where do you think we should do this when we get there?" Dean asked. "Obviously the cliff would be the most logical place, but we're not doing that."
Both younger hunters shuddered at the thought of going anywhere near the cliffs before the Lady in Brown was gone.
"The lobby, right at the bottom of the main stairs should be good," Sam suggested. "She'll have less to hurt us with in there. I'd say we could try the golf course, but we don't know for sure which path she took."
"Lobby it is, then," Dean nodded. "We have everything we need in the trunk, so hopefully we can get this wrapped up and get out of here."
Jess noticeably tensed as they pulled up in front of the inn again. Sam reached over the back of his seat to squeeze her hand.
"Why don't you stay here?" he suggested. "It won't take us too long to finish this."
"No," Jess answered after taking a minute to think. "I keep telling you guys that I'm capable enough to be a hunter. It's time to prove it. I can't let one scare take me out of the game."
"Atta girl," Dean said. "Let's get this done."
He quickly gathered the needed materials from the trunk and handed them to Sam or Jess. They entered the lobby together and Sam and Dean started setting everything up. Jess tried to watch them so she'd know how to do this next time, but couldn't keep her eyes from gluing themselves to the stairs.
"We'll feel her before we'll see her," Sam said gently.
"I know," Jess sighed. "It'll get cold before she shows up."
As if they'd summoned the ghost by saying that, the temperature in the room started to drop. Jess's hands tightened on her gun while Sam and Dean rushed to get everything in place. Dean snatched up his own gun and stood while Sam started chanting in Latin.
"Hurry up, Sammy," Dean ordered. Dolores hadn't reappeared yet, but the temperature was arctic and there was frost building on the windows.
A moment later she flickered to life about halfway up the staircase. She glared at them and started making her way slowly down the stairs. One hand trailed daintily along the bannister and Dean almost laughed at how ridiculous it seemed. He knew how deadly serious this ghost was, though.
"That's it," Sam said a few seconds later, standing and pointing his gun towards the woman on the stairs.
This is a bit anti-climactic, Sam thought sarcastically. He'd expected this Tom guy to show up as soon as he'd finished the summoning spell, but here they were several second later and no Tom.
"Dammit," Dean had, as always, positioned himself slightly in front of Sam and Jess. As Dolores continued to make her way down the stairs with no sign of Tom, he started to back towards the door, crowding Sam and Jess and forcing them backwards too. He was just about to shove them out the door and then shoot the ghost in the face when a voice spoke up from behind them.
"Dolly? That you, darlin'?"
"Tom?" Dolores stopped her descent, but the fire didn't fade from her eyes.
"Hey there, love," Tom moved forward as Dean pulled Sam and Jess aside.
"Love?" two of the windows in the lobby exploded inwards and Sam quickly covered Jess to keep any of the flying glass from hitting her. "You have no right to call me that. I confessed my love for you and you spat it back in my face."
"I did," Tom looked down in shame. "I never should've, though. I had a lot of time to think after you…well, after. And I was wrong."
"So all it took was my death to make you see," Dolores hissed.
"Unfortunately it did, and I wish it hadn't," Tom seemed sincere. "I never forgave myself for that. Let me try to make it up to you now? The other side is amazing and we have all the time in the world to make up for the time that we lost."
Dolores hesitated and narrowed her eyes. She looked over to where Sam was standing with his arms still around Jess.
"You love him?" Dolores asked.
"With everything I have," Jess answered immediately.
"If he had done this to you, would you forgive him?"
"In a heartbeat," Jess answered steadily again. "When you love someone, you forgive them. Even if what they did hurt you. No one's perfect, and very few people get a second chance at love. You have that second chance. Take it."
Everyone was quiet for a few more moments. Dolores stared at Jess and Jess stared back confidently. Then Dolores broke their gaze and rushed down the last few steps into Tom's arms.
"Thank you," they both whispered and disappeared.
The temperature instantly started climbing again and they all relaxed with a sigh. Jess leaned back against Sam, trying to work herself up to what she was planning.
"You ready to get out of here, babe?" Sam asked.
"Almost," she answered. "I have to do something first."
"What's that?" Sam frowned, trying to think of anything they may have forgotten.
"I have to go back over by the cliffs," Jess forced the words out. "If I don't, this fear is going to follow me around. I have to get past it and to do that I have to go back there."
"We'll come with you," Dean offered.
"Actually, do you mind letting us go over there alone?" Sam asked, giving Dean a 'back off' look.
"Uh, yeah," Dean held his hand out for their shotguns. "I'll just get the trunk re-packed and…wait. In the car."
"Okay," Jess blinked at Dean's awkwardness. It wasn't like him to be unsure of himself.
She and Sam linked hands as they walked across the golf course. Sam dug into his pocket with his free hand. He slowly eased the envelope open.
Jess's hands started to shake as they got closer to the edge of the cliffs. She'd been planning on going all the way up to the edge of it, but about five feet away she lost her nerve and stopped.
"Give me a second," she said. "I want to go closer."
"This is close enough," Sam squeezed her hand. "If you're able to overlook the whole almost dying thing, the view out here really is amazing."
"Even taking into account the whole almost dying thing, it's breathtaking," Jess laughed. "You can see for miles."
"I've got everything I want to look at right here," Sam took a deep breath and swore he wasn't going to make an ass of himself this time.
"Why Samuel Winchester, that was awfully romantic," Jess turned to smile up at him only to realize that she actually needed to look down at him, which wasn't the normal course of things.
"I don't know if I'm doing this right," Sam managed a shaky laugh. "Honestly, I'm trying to remember all those romance movies I always made fun of you for watching."
"Sam?" Jess had a hand to her mouth and her eyes were already filling up with tears.
"Whether I'm going about this the right way or not," Sam continued. "I knew you were the one from our very first, godawful date."
Even with tears in her eyes, Jess laughed at that. Their first date had been a train wreck. Literally. Sort of, anyway. They'd taken a trip to San Jose, intending to visit the San Jose Museum of Art and have dinner. Since they were there, they thought it would be fun to ride one of the streetcars. And it had been…right up until another streetcar driver had taken a wrong turn and t-boned their streetcar. Sam had been thrown from their car and they'd spent the next five hours in the ER waiting for a doctor to be satisfied that he only had a minor concussion and some cracked ribs, plus waiting for the police to come take their statements. All in all, Jess had been sure Sam was never going to ask her on a second date, so she was pleasantly surprised when he'd called her the next day and apologized for the chaos, asking her to give him a second chance.
Sam finally took his hand out of his pocket, and Jess couldn't stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks.
"I don't know how to say this without it sounding sappy, so I'm just gonna say it," Sam could feel tears at the back of his eyes too, and he blinked them back. "I'm already the luckiest guy in the world to have you as my girlfriend and I would be honored if you'd be my wife."
"Oh my god," Jess leaned down and kissed him. "Of course! I love you so much. Of course I will!"
Sam slipped the ring onto her finger and she admired it. It was the most gorgeous ring she'd ever seen in her entire life. As Sam stood back up, she threw herself into his arms.
"It's beautiful," she whispered.
"You're beautiful," Sam answered. "The ring was my Mom's engagement ring. I know she would've loved you and that she'd have wanted you to have it."
"Oh, Sam," Jess didn't know what to say to that. "I love it and I love you."
"Love you too," Sam kissed her.
"You two lovebirds want to make out up here all day or are we gonna go see some of those historical places you drooled about the whole ride?" Dean spoke up from behind them.
"Let me think about that," Sam laughed, and squeezed Jess even tighter.
XXXXXXXXXX
Additional Note: I hope everyone liked this chapter. This has been my favorite one to write so far because I actually chose to use my hometown. Milford, PA is a real place and the story of Cliff Park Inn is true. Teenagers will go anywhere if it's rumored to be haunted, so I spent my fair share of time at Cliff Park Inn and my friends and I have had experiences with all three ghosts: Sally, Uncle Stew, and the Lady in Brown. Sally is fairly particular about who she likes and does not generally appreciate anyone trying to stay in her room. Uncle Stew is also pretty free with tossing his cans of pineapple around (although I have no idea where he gets them). I did take some creative liberties and filled in spotty areas though. Tom Mix really did like to film silent Western movies at Cliff Park, but no one knows for sure if the Lady in Brown was a cast or crew member, so I chose a name at random from one of Mix's movies. I wanted to add in some pictures or links to pictures of Cliff Park Inn and the views surrounding it, but this site won't let me. If you look up "Cliff Park Inn, Milford, PA" it'll pull up some nice pictures so you can get an idea of what it looks like. For some reason, Bing pulls images from all the inns/resorts in the area, but Google has more that are actually of Cliff Park.