AN: Okay, I hope you don't mind but I'm going to diverge from the timeline a bit in this chapter. You'll see what I mean. I love your feedback, and it'll determine whether I keep going on this story after a few more chapters.
Do You Recall
XIV: Natural Thing, Part II
Elena would really rather not be sharing air with Wes in the backseat, especially when he started moaning and groaning about having to un-wish the wish. He really just didn't get it. Besides the fact that the wishes went sour, Sam and Dean were trying and failing to convince this guy that his "wish" wasn't working. Neither were the ones in the rest of the town, as judged by the downwards spiral it was going in.
"'Careful what you wish for,'" Wes mocked. "You know who says that? Good-looking jerks like you guys. The ones who got it so easy because you happen to be handsome."
"Easy?" Sam and Dean said in disbelief. Elena had no words for the stupidity.
"Yeah, women look at you. They notice you." Wes then looked over at Elena. "That's why you're here with them right?"
All three of them bristled at the implication, but Elena beat both brothers to the punch. Her terse look made Wes retreat a bit to his side of the backseat.
She leaned towards him. "Mind your damn business."
Wes wisely dropped his gaze and didn't say anything.
"Nobody gets what they want in life," Dean said after the tense moment somewhat passed. "We don't. We're miserable. In fact, we've gotta fight tooth and nail just to keep what we have."
"You get what you want, you go crazy," Sam added.
"Yeah, just look at Michael Jackson. Or Hasselhoff," said Dean.
"Well you know what? Hope loves me now. Completely," said Wes, grating on Elena even more. "Besides, I don't see what crazy stuff you're talking about."
Until they came to a red stoplight and could hear kids screaming in fear in the parking lot to their right. The blonde kid from earlier had his bullies trapped in an SUV, where he was taunting them by tapping on the front car door, and finally tipped the whole thing over with his own strength.
"Kneel before Tod!" he demanded, while the kids inside screamed.
"Well, that should cover it!" said Dean, and hopped out of the car. At seeing Tod begin to rock the SUV back and forth, Elena followed him out, hearing his instructions to Sam to get Wes to the restaurant. They didn't wait for the car to peel away before they hurried over to Tod.
"Hey, kid. Can I talk to you for a second?" Dean asked. Tod glared at him and began stalking towards Dean.
"Get out of my way," he demanded. Both Dean and Elena backed off.
"Hey, whoa. I can dig it, Tod…it's Tod right?" Dean asked, bending down to his level. "Look, I know the score. Those guys have been bullying you."
"Every day. Every day, you don't know what it's like!" the boy exclaimed.
"No," Dean admitted. "No, I don't. But you're you and I'm me, so—"
"I couldn't stop them. I couldn't do anything," said Tod, glancing down at his feet. But he looked up again, more assured of himself. "But then Audrey told me that the wishing well worked."
Elena bent down, somewhat warily, but trying her best to be nonthreatening.
"Tod, you got 'em back, buddy," she said gently. "Got 'em good. They're never going to come after you again, I guarantee it."
"I know," he replied. "But that doesn't change all the times I had to miss the bus and walk to school cause they'd be there waiting for me, or every time I had to run home cause they found me after school."
"Okay, look, I get it. They're mean little jerks," said Dean. "But they're not superhuman, like you. See, with great power, comes great—"
Elena gasped as Dean went flying into the garbage bins from Tod's solid punch. When he started toward her, she backed up a bit with placating hands. The last thing she wanted to do was beat up a ten-year-old.
"Tod, listen to me—" He tried to kick her in the shin and she was able to dodge, but when he managed to grab her wrist and yanked down, his strength forced her onto the ground. He twisted her wrist at an awkward angle, and with enough pressure he could break it with ease.
"Hey, kid!" Dean shouted, coming up behind them. "I didn't want to have to do this, but—"
He threw a punch that caught the kid in the jaw, but ended up hurting Dean a lot more than it hurt Tod. Dean made a noise of pain and frustration and sunk to his knees. Tod grabbed Dean by the throat and Elena by the hair and began squeezing, not letting go no matter how much they struggled.
And then, Tod let go, looking at his hands in confusion. His strength was gone, Dean could breath, and Elena didn't feel like her hair was about to be ripped out. She let Dean deal with the kid, conning the others just climbing out of the car that Tod was no one to be messing with. Then Dean walked back to Elena, who stood crossing her arms.
"Were you really going to quote Spiderman at him?" she said, a teasing smile on her lips. He shrugged, grinning.
"Hey, gotta put it in words the kid'll understand." She laughed, nodding in accession.
Slowly they made their way to Lucky Chin's and met up with Sam, who held the unlucky coin in his hand. First things first, they had it melted down, then they split up and went through the town, made sure all the other wishes had resolved.
After checking on the now visible teenager, Elena found herself wandering the dirt roads of the small town, looking at the shops and letting busier people breeze by her. Until a shoulder bumped into hers, and she looked up to the startled face of Wes.
"Uh…sorry," he said.
"No, it's fine."
He was obviously alone now, as Hope was nowhere in sight, and he had the look of one miserable sap.
"You okay?" Elena asked him, reluctantly, because she already knew the answer. Wes looked up at her, swallowed, and shook his head.
"No." He glanced down at the ground, hands in his pockets, then back up. "I um…I came home to an empty house…the only girl I ever cared about doesn't know I'm alive, and…"
He sighed.
"I guess that's the way things are supposed to be."
It was Elena's turn to sigh. She knew what it was like to come home to an empty house and feel like you had nothing and no one left.
"Wes…if you honest to God want her to know you, just go up and talk to her," she said. "Get to know her. Get to know people. Look for a job. Find out what you want to do with your life. You can't live hiding in your house…your grandfather probably wouldn't want that for you."
"Yeah, that easy, huh?" he asked, huffing a skeptical breath.
"No. It's not," she said. "But it's a hell of a lot better than being alone."
He didn't answer, but maybe that dejected look in his eyes lighted the smallest bit with understanding.
"Bye, Wes," she said, and headed on her way down the street, where she met up with Sam and Dean. Things looked tense between them, but she didn't think this was the time to ask. They walked to where he parked the Impala and got in.
"You find invisi-perv?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, and our friend Wes," she replied. "Looks like someone killed his puppy in front of him."
"Yeah, getting your favorite toy taken away does that to you," he snorted.
"I think it was a little more than that."
Dean glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
"Since when are you his cheerleader?"
Elena grimaced.
"I'm not. But I kinda feel bad for him," she said. Dean gave her a flat look. Sam didn't have much cause to agree with her either.
"Why, 'cause he had to put a spell on a wishing well just to get laid?"
"More than that, a relationship with a girl he genuinely liked."
"Obviously it wasn't golden," Dean said dryly. "It wasn't even real."
She conceded that point with a nod.
"But when it is, it's…nice," she said while looking out at the long stretch of road before them. "More than nice. He wanted that."
And that sentiment Sam couldn't argue with. Dean saw the identical pensive expressions on their faces as they looked out of their respective windows.
The motel was just as rundown as Elena remembered. The thought of facing dull beige walls and beds older than her, a ceiling with spots of yellowed leakage and an air conditioning that only worked when you beat it into submission…for the first time in months, she craved being home. Not Bobby's house, though it was a comfort to her, but the home she'd had for most of her childhood in Hill City, South Dakota—a town wedged in the heart of the Black Hills that made more money in lumber than tourism. A town that was so small that, when she lived there, every day going to work she still saw many of the people she went to school with and had known all her life, just going about their day.
So while Sam was in the shower and Dean sat on the couch with a Snickers bar he'd stolen from her now packed bag, Elena off-handedly told him she was going to get some air, and stepped outside onto the wooden porch. She breathed in the clean Washington air and wished she could smell pines and timber. Leaning against the railing, she allowed herself to daydream a bit while watching the clouds roll by. She almost didn't hear the door open behind her.
"Hey," Dean said, coming to lean against the railing beside her. "We're leaving in a bit."
"Kay," she nodded a little. He glanced over at her and caught the absent look on her face.
"What're you thinking about?"
"I dunno…sometimes you wonder why things happen the way they do," she said, "Why people never get what they really want. That little girl will have a fucked up teddy bear in her memory forever. Wes thinks he's going to die alone. We're going to end up doing this for the rest of our lives…"
She was starting to see why Sam and Dean discouraged her from coming back to hunting in the beginning, why her father had for all those years. It was a crappy job but…she couldn't not be in it now. Her life had revolved it since she was fourteen, and there was no way to go back to being quiet. Normal. Because she wasn't anymore.
Elena hadn't felt normal in a long time.
"It doesn't have to be all bad," said Dean, turning his gaze to the now quieted city. "Wes learned a lesson, and he'll hold onto that. As for us…well, that doesn't have to be all bad either."
He looked back at her.
"So we move around, so we don't get paid for shit. It's better than dragging other people down with us or letting them die."
He'd been where she was, questioning what the point was when people still died, were still miserable, and when doing what they were doing didn't pay half as much as it should. But they did help people, and that made the difference.
"Yeah," she said. "But at the cost of never really being happy?"
Elena sighed and met his green gaze.
"I know…in our line of work, relationships, a home, all that shit…they're all precursors to a sad, bloody ending. But when you have it…it's someone there when your day goes to shit, and they remind you there's still something to look forward to."
Elena's gaze wasn't focused on him now, had moved past him. She crossed her arms over her chest and paused, taking in a breath that coursed throughout her body and left her feeling somewhat hollow.
"When it's good, you know, because no matter how things around you do go to shit, you're still better off with them there than if they're gone because they know you, and they stay anyway."
There was a brief moment of silence between them as Dean thought about it. She'd revealed a lot more about herself than she probably realized. He knew what she was saying though. It was why losing his mom had driven John nearly to the brink, why losing Jessica had nearly ended his brother and haunted him with oppressive guilt. But Dean's time with Cassie—a thought he hardly allowed himself to remember since leaving her in Missouri—had been too short for him to truly know for himself.
"And when did it go bad for you?" he asked.
Her eyes met his, and a melancholy smile touched her lips.
"He found someone who wasn't 'secretive.'" She bit her lip, remembering. It hadn't bothered her for a while now, but every now and then, she would remember. "A 'compulsive liar.'"
Hell, could he understand how that was.
"Sorry," Dean said genuinely. Elena smiled a little, but it didn't last long.
"Doesn't matter," she said after a bit. "It probably won't ever happen again…maybe I'm better off."
He knew what she meant, but to get her to smile again, he said, "Aw, really? Don't tell me you're givin' up on men cause of one douche bag."
She raised one brow, but he succeeded in getting an amused smile on her face.
"I don't know, maybe I'll have better luck with someone that understands me as a woman," she said mischievously. "Who better than a woman?"
"Sure." Dean turned to her with a smirk, and a certain look that made Elena's face suspiciously warm. "Or..."
His raised, flirtatious eyebrows clearly suggested only one thing. She rolled her eyes, trying not to blush.
"Ha. That's rich," she teased, gesturing to his form. "From a guy who spent half the day upchucking the past week's takeout."
"Damn. You really do know how to break a guy's heart," he joked, pretending to grip his chest.
She shot him a glare. "Don't be an asshole."
Once he noticed the hurt in her eyes, he realized what he said. Or rather, what it sounded like.
"Okay, not what I meant."
"Then why the hell did you say it?" she snapped. Her arms crossed, protecting herself both from the colder afternoon wind and from Dean.
She'd confided in him, with something she'd never told anyone other than Val. And her friend didn't even know the real reason the relationship had fallen apart, only that Elena had afterwards. It was a wound that she'd never really healed from, even four years later. Probably because she hadn't allowed herself to.
She felt Dean's hand, heavy on her shoulder. Then, his voice, deep and hesitant, but tinged with apology. "Lena."
"It's fine. Leave it alone," she said.
"Would you stop?"
Letting Dean turn her back to face him, she still kept her face impassive as he looked down on her. She tried to blink away the burning sensation in her eyes.
Dean knew she was trying to hide, like she always did. He knew for all the toughness of that outer shell, she was soft inside. She was a bit like him, a natural caretaker. Like when that sandwich came back to bite him, and she was right behind him with water and medicine and helping him back to the bed. She'd probably been taking care of her dad ever since her mom passed (and herself), and whoever this guy in her past was, she'd probably taken care of that bum-ass too. Elena was kind, but also tough on herself. She was hard not to love, though she didn't expect it or see it in herself.
"Jesus, you're stubborn," he muttered.
It was the wrong thing to say.
Her glare hardened and she yanked her arms out of his grip.
"Just leave me alone, Dean." She started to walk back towards their motel room. She could hear him following close behind, and it annoyed her. But this time she didn't have the heart to tell him to fuck off. This time it wasn't their usual playful back and forth. Maybe she was being too sensitive, too melodramatic.
Either way, she didn't want Dean to see her cry again. Not about this.
But Dean stopped her before she reached the door, a hand wrapped gently, but firm around her wrist as he tugged her back to him. "All right, enough."
Her back eventually found the wall, and his body was a wall of its own. It was his eyes though. The intensity of his gaze prevented her from slipping around him and making her escape back inside. His brows were furrowed, his jaw tight. Elena crossed her arms again, looking up at him in irritation. What do you want from me?
"If that guy'd even had a quarter brains," Dean said gruffly, "he'd never let you walk out the door."
She looked down to avoid him. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," he said. His gaze never left her face.
After a while, she couldn't take it. "That's sweet and all, but—"
"You hear what I'm sayin'?" he said. His hands unconsciously fell to her waist, keeping her from walking away from him again. So she would start hearing him instead of impatiently trying to ignore him. "Any guy should be so lucky to have you."
She sighed in exasperation. "All right, I get it. Joke's over."
"I'm not fuckin' joking."
Elena grabbed his jacket in frustration, ready to tell him to just let it go already. But when she looked up, his face was much closer than before. She watched his frown fade into a more concentrated look. She blinked and found him staring down at the inches of space between them, with his hands still molded to the curve of her waist. She bit her lip nervously. His eyes, no longer set in anger, were drawn to it.
Elena intended to avoid that look by pulling away, hopefully to head inside the motel room and to a hot shower. But her feet wouldn't move according to what her brain was telling her to do. Neither was the rest of her body as her chin tilted up toward him. And then his lips were crashing onto hers and coherent thought fled.
Her hands slid into his hair and his drifted from her waist to the small of her back, pinning her against him. In two steps she was pressed against the wall, bringing every part of her, breasts, hips, and thighs, aligned with him. She lightly dragged her nails down the back of his neck. She felt him shiver a little, and he deepened their kiss. His lips claimed hers, over and over, and when she sighed into him, he took full advantage by slipping his tongue between her lips.
Her brain all but short-circuited, her body fairly humming with warmth and the feeling of his heavy hands caressing her hips and ass.
But as suddenly as it began, it stopped, with him pulling away and leaving her panting as she leaned against the wall. She stared up at him, wide-eyed and confused, while his lips curved in a wry, sexy smile. Her already racing heart pounded audibly in her head.
"Told you," he said. And his voice was rough, almost making her shiver.
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her mind was a muddled heap of crisscrossed wires. She was sure a blush stemmed from the base of her throat to her cheeks—she could feel the heat emanating from her own skin. So she made a hasty retreat.
He watched her bolt inside the motel room, nearly smacking into Sam as he was coming out.
"S-Sorry," she mumbled, but still flit past him. His face was the picture of confusion as the door shut behind him, until he looked up at saw Dean.
"Dean." Not surprise, just exasperated resignation from his little brother.
"What?" He regretted nothing.
Sam knew it, even if he didn't know what exactly happened.
"What did you do?" he asked, lowering his voice. He tried restraining himself from sounding accusatory, but didn't quite manage it.
"None of your business," Dean teased. "The adults were talking."
"Dean."
"This is one thing we don't need to talk about, Sam." Dean tried to walk past his brother into the room, but Sam's grip on his jacket near his shoulder stopped him.
"This is Elena, all right?" Sam said.
"I know."
He really didn't think Dean did.
"She's family," Sam warned.
Dean knew.
He just didn't know why he did it.
It wasn't just to make her feel better, or stop her from hating herself. It wasn't even about telling her the truth (even though he, in fact, meant what he said).
No, it wasn't entirely about that. If Dean was honest (and he wouldn't be, at least with Sam) it was a bit more selfish than that.
Elena was a beautiful woman, a good hunter, a great friend. And also Bobby's niece. That last fact alone had kept him from making a move, if not from thinking about it.
Still, Dean had seen it in the past few months since he got back from Hell, and again just now. That bit of longing she couldn't quite cover up. The way her eyes had dragged up him and instinctively liked what they saw. Dean knew that look. He'd seen it plenty, but never had it been someone who knew him. Who had experienced his personality on the worst of days, and still was there to look at him like that.
But he also knew the look because he'd been making it too. Whenever he managed to piss her off and she stormed away, hips swaying, or when she was lacing up her boots nearly the length of her calf, letting her shirt ride up on her back and making her jean-clad ass more prominent. Or the time she'd dolled herself up to go to that bar, and he'd pried those ridiculous (sexy) shoes from her feet, his hands traveling up the length of her calves while she'd stared at him like a woman starved.
But sometimes, it was less obvious. Sometimes, it was just the way she laughed at one of his jokes, dirty or otherwise. That full-body laugh that had her spluttering if he caught her off guard, that had him wanting to laugh with her.
Today was a knee-jerk impulse he wasn't able to curb, and he wasn't disappointed.
One night…might not be so bad.
It was tempting.
He wasn't quite able to shake off the thought, but he pinned Sam with a firm look that said to drop it.
"You don't need to tell me that," Dean said.
Sam frowned. "Obviously I do."
Both brothers glared at one another.
"Look, whatever it is," Sam said eventually, "If it's something you just need to get out of your system or whatever, do what you have to do. Just don't use her to do it."
Dean's glare deepened, his jaw clenched. He'd never use her.
"All right?" Sam prodded. The older Winchester offered a slightly mocking smile before turning away from him.
"Let's get the car packed up. I'm ready to get the hell out of here."
The car ride was unusually quiet after that. So Sam found the next case in Poughkeepsie, New York. Something about five men in five nights being found on the side of the highway near an old, broken down bridge by the Hudson River, their bodies completely drained of blood.
"Vampire?" Dean asked while passing a drifting car on the highway. A choice finger was itching to stick out the window. "Fucking people on their cell phones, man."
"Something ripped their skin off, or ate it," Sam said, shaking his head. "Just left the insides…like an animal that leaves the carcass."
"Okay, ew," said Elena. Sam gave her a sympathetic look.
"Yeah. You don't want to see the pictures."
"Okay…did they report any survivors?" she asked.
"Not so far, but when we get there and take a look at what the police have, we may be able to narrow down what could've done this."
"So New York, huh?" Dean asked. His expression grew sly, suggestive as his gaze slid to his brother. "I seem to recall something, or someone being from around there."
Sam rolled his eyes while Elena remained confused.
"Dean…" he warned, knowing full well Dean was getting him back for what happened just a few hours ago.
"You remember, Sammy. Long brown hair, blue eyes, had a thing for old paintings and your luscious locks," Dean teased. "Cool chick, that one. Had guts."
"Who are we talking about?" Elena asked in amusement while Sam tried to pretend his brother wasn't talking.
"Oh, what was her name, Sam? I've seemed to forget—" Sam sighed loudly and turned to Elena.
"Sarah Blake. Saved her from a haunted painting…that was a long time ago now." He gave his brother a pointed look. "Almost four years ago."
"And he was crushing on her hardcore," said Dean. "Like a high school geek."
Sam glared at his brother, while Elena, still smiling, shook her head at Dean's antics even though she was still finding it hard to look at him without blushing. She could still feel the echo of his lips on hers, his touch...
"Maybe after the case is done we'll head farther upstate," Dean suggested, waggling his brows.
"Shut up," Sam laughed, shaking his head. "She probably wouldn't remember me anyway. It's not like I ever called. Four years is a long time."
"You think she wouldn't remember the guy who saved her life?" Dean pointed out. Sam quieted, and Elena could see that part of him was considering the idea. But there was a greater part that was weighing the possible consequences.
"I can't uproot her life like that again. Not now when," he paused, then sighed. "We've got a lot to deal with right now."
"Yeah but—"
"Dean," Sam shook his head. "Just…no. Forget it."
He left the living area to get his bag from the bedroom, leaving Dean and Elena to share a look.
"He must have really liked her," Elena said sympathetically.
"Yeah…" Dean sighed. "He's right though. A lot of shit's happened since then. A lot of shit's happening now."
He paused.
"And frankly, he's not the same guy he was then."
Elena nodded. She'd seen the evidence of that. But underneath all that…Sam was still Sam. It looked like he was learning from his mistakes. Above all, she could still count on him, and still trusted him with her life.
"Not all of that could be a bad thing, though."
"It's no mystery, guys," the doctor told them, sliding the remains back into the metal compartment. "People that live close to the road there heard a coyote howling. I'm sure the police told you how the first victim's wife said her husband saw one on the road, went outside to steer it away from his chickens in case it got too close, shoot it if he had to, and he never came back. I pulled canine hairs and other DNA off the victims. Now it's just the police tracking down the bastard."
"A coyote?" Elena clarified.
"They're pretty common around here. Folks know the difference between that and a dog," he said. "It'd have to be a pretty rabid dog, though."
"And the black dress the police found torn to shreds last night…were you able to find a DNA match?" A female victim would be out of the pattern if it wasn't just a coyote.
"That's the only strange bit," said the doctor. "I did find the same hairs on the dress, but nothing else matched any of the victims we found. It's possible that there are more remains the police didn't find."
"All right," Sam said eventually, "thank you for your time."
"No problem. Don't know why FBI is interested in this, but good luck to you."
Once the three of them were out of the lab, they looked at one another in confusion.
"So not a vampire. The lunar cycle isn't right for it to be a werewolf, not to mention the heart was still relatively intact," Dean ticked off with his fingers. "You think it's still our kinda gig?"
"I dunno, one man every night?" said Sam. "That sounds too exact and too out of the ordinary for it to be just a coyote attack. They go after rabbits and mice, maybe livestock, but not people."
"Okay, so what are we thinking, skinwalker maybe?" said Elena.
"Either that or a rabid Wile E. Coyote," Dean remarked. "I still wanna talk to that guy that got away last night, what was his name?"
Sam took out the notepad from his jacket.
"Jason Farley."
"It was a woman," Jason told them. His manner was subdued as he sat in his lawn chair, mug of tea in hand with a black and white sheep dog lying by his feet. He was an older man in his fifties with an average build. But what stood out to Sam was the long scratch across the man's stubbled face.
"A woman?" said Dean, disbelief coloring his tone.
"At first."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"She was just standing there, blocking the road."
"Okay…what did she look like."
"After my Beth, probably the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen," Jason admitted.
"Beth?" Dean asked.
"My wife."
"Okay, other than that," said Sam, leading the man along. "Coloring, what she was wearing…"
"She had red hair, if I remember. Bright red…she was wearing a dark dress."
That made the three hunters pause as they made the connection to the unknown dress found in the tall grass.
"What did you do then?"
"I asked her why she was out on the road, if she needed a ride anywhere. It was pretty late at night, I figured maybe her car had broken down or something."
"Was there a car anywhere?" Elena asked.
"No, and she didn't ask for a ride either. Just said she was looking for company," he said, then rubbed the back of his neck. "I said I could take her home if she wanted, but I had to get home to my wife and Josie here."
His dog perked up at the sound of her name, her tongue wagging.
"What did the woman do?" said Sam.
"Got in the passenger seat. Started to get a bit too friendly, if you know what I mean," said Jason. "I tried to push her off…but then she bit me."
"Bit you," Elena repeated.
"Yep, and none too gentle. I cursed pretty loud, and she backed off screaming. That's when I noticed she'd torn a chunk out of my neck, and I damn well pushed her out of the car when she kept trying to get at me like some rabid animal," said Jason. He still had a large gauze pad on the side of his neck to prove it. "After that…I drove to the police station fast as I could and told 'em everything."
"How'd you get that?" Sam asked, gesturing to the wound on Jason's face.
"The bitch scratched me. Her nails…they were almost like claws or something," he replied tiredly.
Sam and Dean glanced at one another, then with Elena, they encouraged him to describe anything else he saw. He looked reluctant enough, but after a little more pressing from Sam, Jason finally admitted that he thought he saw her eyes flash bright blue, maybe purple.
"It was probably just my nerves messing with me," he dismissed, but something in his eyes said he didn't quite believe himself.
"Okay, sir. Thanks for your help," said Sam.
"Just make sure you catch her."
"What a wily bitch," Dean mused. He veered the car right on their way to the motel. "That poor guy almost got himself eaten."
"But what saved him?" Elena asked. "What made her just…stop?"
"We're jumping ahead," said Sam. "First we gotta figure out what she is."
It was about an hour of Sam and Elena scrolling on their respective laptops and Dean flipping through page after useless page of mythology before Sam finally found it.
"I got it," he said. "It's an empusa."
"An Em-hoo-ha?" Dean asked.
"Empusa," Elena repeated. The name sounded familiar, like she'd studied it before, but she ran a search on her own laptop anyway. "Ancient Greek mythology."
"It's a specter, believed to devour the human flesh of travelers along the road. And they could assume different forms, but more often than not chose to appear as a beautiful woman to seduce men," said Sam.
"As always," Dean said dryly. Elena rolled her eyes.
"But get this," Sam continued. "The name has also been applied to shapeshifting hobgoblins that pestered farmers in the form of a dog, ox, or mule. In this case, the dog makes sense."
"So we've got our coyote," Dean commented.
"Would explain the canine hairs on the remains," said Elena. "What's their weakness?"
"Says here that whenever a traveler addressed them with insulting words, it would literally run screaming," said Sam. "Whatever Jason yelled at her must've done the trick."
"Okay, fine. We curse the bitch out. But that still doesn't say how to kill it," said Dean. "Silver, some magic hoodoo, what? I gotta get out my blowtorch?"
"Well, they're somewhat related to Lamias, so I guess silver would be our best bet."
Dean nodded, but Elena could tell he was somewhat disappointed about the blowtorch.
"Okay, I can work with that."
They waited until nightfall, naturally. Dean took the Impala, dropping Sam and Elena off at a wilder patch of land between two houses where they could hide, but still be able to watch Dean from across the road when he would circle around and drive past the bridge.
"Sam, I'm still confused about something," said Elena. Sam looked over at her.
"What?"
"In Greek mythology, empusas served the goddess Hecate, known for guarding three-way crossroads."
"Yeah," Sam followed.
"But this is practically the middle of nowhere. What is it guarding?" Elena asked. Sam thought for a moment.
"I guess we'll have to find out," he said. "Dean should be coming around that corner and passing the road to the bridge pretty soon."
"Yeah…"
Sam glanced over again and caught her frown. He smiled a little.
"Don't worry. He doesn't fall that easily over a pretty face." Elena shot Sam a sideways look.
"Not why I'm worried."
"You sure?"
Elena raised a brow at him. "What are you talking about?"
Sam's smile deepened only slightly, but she caught it and frowned, feeling her face warm up.
"Nothing," he said innocently. She called thirty flavors of bullshit.
"You're right though, not everything's clear," Sam agreed. "But we'll figure it out once this thing shows."
Elena nodded, though there was an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach as they watched the Impala cruising up the road. Just as he approached the bridge, a figure was there in the middle of the road. Elena blinked. They hadn't been there a second ago.
"Sam," she said, tensing up.
"I see her," he replied, stance relaxed but alert as he held his gun loaded with silver bullets.
Dean could see the appeal. The chick obviously fit the job description of seductress, if that was what she was calling herself. She looked him up and down with a teasing smile and wide, blue eyes under a fringe of hair that curled over her cheek.
"You need a ride?" Dean offered.
"How about some company?" she replied smoothly, voice soft yet rich. It was almost compelling. Dean smiled, then got out of the car. He pulled out his gun and pulled the hammer back.
"All right, bitch." Her expression immediately hardened into a frown as she took a couple of steps back, hissing at him as her eyes began to glow a strange bluish color.
"I wouldn't move, unless you wanna get your ugly ass pumped full of silver," he warned. Her expression changed to one of both surprise and fear. "That's right, I know what you are. That getup ain't foolin' anyone."
The empusa glared at him and, with another hiss, turned and changed before his eyes into a wolf. Not a dog or a coyote. A wolf that only got as far as a few yards before Dean shot it in the leg, making it bark in pain and stumble onto the road. He heard Sam and Elena coming behind him and looked back at them, gesturing to follow him. He ran toward the fallen creature, though it was struggling to a stand and harried stumbling across the bridge. It was probably heading for the stretch of forest area straight ahead, a New York state park. But it was in vain; with one more shot the empusa fell in a heap of fur and blood.
The streetlamps above began to buzz and…brighten. It was a loud enough sound that made him stop, and Sam and Elena stopped beside him.
"What's that?" Sam asked. Dean didn't have time to answer as all three of them were thrown back by a force that felt suspiciously like magic, all tingly and wrong. The force of it took the wind out of him, but when he was able to groan and lift his head, a beautiful woman was standing there, blonde and dressed in white. Her eyes were that same blue as the empusa's.
She looked down upon them disdainfully.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked. She looked bored, but there was fire simmering in those eyes.
"There was a time when all the world knew me and my dominion," she said. Her voice was dark and smooth.
"You're from Greece!" Elena pointed out, and accepted Dean's helping hand to stand.
"The pinnacle of Western Civilization, unfortunately, has become this continent," she said, with the same measure of disdain.
"Like in Percy Jackson?" Elena asked in disbelief. Dean gave her a strange look.
"You're Hecate," Sam clarified.
"I am," the goddess nodded with a dismissing wave of her hand. "Goddess of the crossroads, and you have disturbed my dominion."
"Wait, wait. This is the middle of fucking nowhere," said Dean. "Why would you camp out in one little town? Why sick your Rottweiler on these people? They've never done anything to you!"
"For all you claim to know of this world, you are still ignorant," she sneered. "Mortal men are selfish and barbaric. Cruel, creating the means to destroy the earth and sap it of its resources, only turning to nurturing means when it turns to dust in your hands."
She clenched her hand, and it was as if a force was gripping their insides with a stronghold. Straining for air and gasping with pain, they were brought to their knees on the road.
"I protect what is left, and…discourage others from coming near," said Hecate, her face twisting into a smirk. "By whatever means necessary."
The forest, Sam thought. She's protecting the wildlife.
"I'm all for…going green," Dean choked out, obviously coming to the same conclusion as Sam. "But lady, you're one uppity bitch."
She turned to glare at him just as he raised his gun and shot her not once, but twice in the head: one between the eyes and the other an inch and a half above. Her last expression was one of shock and outrage before the light dimmed in her eyes and her arm dropped to her side. Her body swayed once, twice, then finally fell to the floor. The three hunters sagged in relief as her hold was cut off, allowing them to breathe.
"If we're lucky, she'll stay dead," Elena said wearily.
"Nope, you didn't kill her."
"Whaaaat," Dean whined, "Come on, Bobby, they were silver bullets! And we burnt the body."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. That'll stun her for a few decades, but she can't be killed permanently with anything short of a spell I happen to have. She'll be up and running again by the time you're eighty, once all her parts find one another."
"Great," he deadpanned, and flopped onto one of the motel beds.
"If you had told me before you barbequed the corpse, I'd have given you the spell."
"Yeah well, least she won't be around in our lifetime."
"Small favors," said Bobby. Dean sighed.
"All right. Thanks, Bobby."
"Yeah, yeah." Dean hung up with a shake of his head.
"What'd he say?" Sam asked from the couch. Dean summarized the conversation for Sam and Elena, to which the latter rolled her eyes.
"Not for nothing, but I'm ready to get the hell out of Poughkeepsie," she said.
"Right there with you," Dean agreed. "Poughkeepsie. Hey, that'd make a good code word, eh Sammy?"
Sam looked amused.
"Meaning what?"
"I dunno, but it'd be good."
"It's not very inconspicuous," Elena pointed out.
"It would catch on quick though," said Dean. "Wouldn't mean squat to whoever we're with, could be good if we're trying to get away fast and throw 'em off."
She gave him a dubious look.
"Hey, that's it," he said, eyes widening with enthusiasm. "When we need a quick getaway—a drop everything and get the fuck out."
Sam couldn't fight a smile at Dean's expression.
"Yeah, all right," he said. "Poughkeepsie."
They would go to bed early that night. Or at least Dean would. Elena was just out of the bathroom, Dean's snores filling the room, when she heard Sam's voice floating from just outside the motel door. Curious, she pressed her ear to the wood.
"...Yeah, it's me," she heard Sam laugh a bit, that slightly nervous laugh that said he was trying to be chill. "Um…I actually just finished a case…I'm leaving Poughkeepsie."
Who the hell is he calling this late? Elena wondered.
"Uh…I don't think we'll have time to come by," he said. "But…I know, I'm sorry…it's good to hear your voice too…maybe I will."
There was a smile in his voice, she could tell. But she scurried to her bed as his voice got closer to the door. She didn't want to be caught eavesdropping when he walked back in. Tucked in bed, Elena just caught the ending of the conversation and smiled to herself.
"All right. I'll…I'll call you," Sam promised. "Bye, Sarah."