Chapter Eight – Author, Author
Sam waited until the theater lights came on and the moviegoers filed out to approach his brother, using the time to consider what he had witnessed. Dean clearly wasn't himself when he emo-acted Leo's final scenes. The last thing Dean would ever do is go to the front of the class and recite that drivel. There was no doubt whatsoever, obviously he had been possessed. Sam just wasn't sure how or why or what-the-hell they were going to do about it. Dean didn't seem to understand what had happened when he returned to his senses. He looked so lost and confused standing there before the huge screen silhouetted by the bright light from the projector, his eyes wide and wild, like that familiar deer trapped in the headlights of an approaching semi, paralyzed by fear and unable to think, or move.
After the audience finished dispersing, Sam moved to his brother's side and when Dean saw him the relief that flooded his eyes was heartbreaking, like he was little boy lost and now found. A child's heart seizing in terror at being abandoned in a huge, ominous department store with the scary strangers, and then rejoicing at being rescued by loving parents. Sam reached out and gently touched his brother's arm. No wonder he's been so freaked out!
Dean jumped at the unexpected touch, but he recovered quickly, burying his confusion and concerns for the sake of maintaining his image. He was the big brother, the protector of Sammy, a hunter… I gotta get a grip here. No time on the drive home to plaster on the false front. Sammy's right here… right now… watching. Oh, God, what's happening to me?
Dean turned to his brother and grinned. "Well, I guess we showed 'em, huh, dude?" Looking around the empty theater he pulled out the flask of whiskey and took a quick swig, the burn of the liquor a welcome retreat. "So, little brother, you got any ideas? Casper talking to ya?" He smiled that familiar Dean smile, cocky and sure, his hand steady as he tousled the shag on his brother's head.
"Dean… " Sam stammered, suddenly unsure how to broach this subject, wanting to soften the news that Dean was a receptacle for this spirit, a conduit to the other side helping the spirit fulfill its desires. Dean sure is gonna hate this. He hates these things and the thought of one of them snaking their way through him is gonna really freak him out. Not to mention piss him off… big time!
"Yeah, Sammy? You got something?" Dean casually asked. No worry in his voice, a hunter on task for the job.
"Dean, you're not going to like this, but… " Sam was shuffling his feet, staring at the ground and stalling… hoping some kinder, gentler approach would ease Dean's pain, but knowing nothing would temper this news. Damn it, just spit it out. Ain't no way to sugarcoat this one.
"Come on, Sammy. Cat got your tongue? If you got somethin', let's hear it." Dean studied the concerned look on his brother's face, his bottom lip absently being chewed and worried like a trapped wolf willing to gnaw off its own foot to escape its fate. He smirked, his cocky grin reaching up to sincere eyes, a bare whisper of dread lurking there, somehow knowing if Sammy was this scared it had to be bad, but that just meant he had to be even stronger and show no fear. He offered up a confident laugh, a strained effort to relieve the tension. "Come on, bro, can't be all that bad." His voice went deeper, coaxing the bad news from his brother. I mean, how bad could it be? Like it could possibly get any worse? After all, I have seen this stupid movie… how many times now? It don't get any worse than that! "Sammy…, dude.., come on… spill."
Maybe it won't hurt so much if I don't draw it out?
Sam took one gulp of air and the words burst out of him in a rush. "Dean, I think the spirit is getting inside you… possessing you and making you act out Leo's part." Dean continued staring at his brother, eyes fixed and unresponsive, almost appearing dead.., unfeeling.., vacant… nobody's home. Sam's small voice squeaked out, "Dean?" He waited, but his brother's expression didn't change, frozen with that empty, blank look on his face, no emotion registering. The longest minute Sam had ever lived through passed and finally Dean's eyes started to move, to tentatively respond to his surroundings, flickering with a faint light from within the darkness. "Dean, did you hear me?" Sam whispered, honestly scared this might be the final push over the edge for his struggling brother.
Dean slowly smiled as the idea filtered through his thoughts, his head gently nodding in realization. "God, that makes sense… you know, I've been so edgy lately… definitely haven't been myself." His smile grew into a blinding grin, white teeth bared, eyes lit up with life, and his dimples… damn, if those dimples weren't crevices to rival the Grand Canyon. He sat down in one of the seats to reflect, and his shoulders eased, the tension dissolving, a tremendous weight lifting off of him as his entire body relaxed into a casual slouch in the chair. Damn, it makes sense. Shoulda known… Now that we know what we're facing, we can waste the bastard!
"Dean? I thought this would freak you out… you know.., having something inside of you like that?" Sam was scared to ask, but he needed to know where his brother's head was. He needed to know if he could depend on Dean. Please, Dean, be okay with this… I need you to be okay. Intent, hopeful eyes gazed upon his brother, waiting for a sign.
"Freak me out? Damn straight it freaks me out." Dean stood up and shuddered, shaking out his arms and cracking his neck as his head moved from side to side. "That's why we're gonna waste the son of a bitch." He placed his hand on Sammy's shoulder in a firm grip, a fresh determination firing through his senses. "This freakin' bastard should have known better than to mess with me. I'm gonna kick its fugly ass back to hell.., or the other side.., or wherever-the-hell it came from."
Sam sighed in relief, his cocky, kick-butt, ghost-busting brother was back. "You know I've got your back, dude." Sam offered a relieved, totally happy grin. "You don't mess with a guy's brother."
"Damn straight. This sonofabitch has the Winchesters on its trail. It's history."
The brothers fanned out and checked over the theater, their EMFs registering slightly higher readings in the seats to the right of the theater. One particular seat made the needle jump to its highest reading and Dean paused at that seat, his hand gripping the back of the seat, deep in thought.
"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked, noticing the intense, solemn look on his brother's face, a rare look usually reserved for particularly intricate investigations or when he was plotting his next prank on his brother… or when the vast quantities of spicy food he devoured at supper decided to stage an uprising.
Dean looked up as the wheels turned; obviously something was going on inside there.
That in itself could be a dangerous proposition with Dean. Being so rare and all… God, Sammy, way to be a bitch… Remember, he's your brother and he's in trouble. Cut him a break, would ya?
"Dean, what is it? You know what this means?" Sam inquired as Dean sat down in the seat, staring at the screen deep in thought.
"Not sure, but there's this girl… "
Sam quickly interrupted with a disapproving huff. "Dude, not now. God, you are unbelievable!"
Dean offered up a disgusted grunt and his I-can-be-more-than-a-sex-maniac-and-I'd-appreciate-it-if-you'd-realize-it look. "Sammy, I'm not banging her or looking to… " at this precise moment. "I'm working a case here, comprende?"
Sam quieted and listened, regretting he had doubted his brother yet again. But you really can't blame me, all things considered. We are talking about Dean here. Dean and girls, well… enough said.
"Sammy, she was here, watching the movie and I think she was sitting in this seat. At least right in this area… I don't know. It could be nothing or… "
Sam was right there with him, the trail hopefully at last leading them to this spirit. "Maybe she's connected to the spirit. Dean, what's her name?" Sam started pulling out his research, his list of names on the top of his folder.
Dean squirmed. "Her name?"
"Yeah, Dean, you DID get her name, didn't you?"
Dean shrugged, his eyebrows arching while his lips pursed into a lopsided half-grimace, "Not exactly."
"Not exactly!?! You either did or you didn't, not exactly a gray area here, Dean."
"Hey, we didn't have a lot of time to talk about personal stuff. She said her family just got back from vacation. Sounded like they were big around these parts, ties to the community and all." Dean defensively offered what little info he had. "If I'da known I had to recite her family history, I'd have interrogated her properly, Sammy."
Sam smiled as he recognized Dean's defensive rationale. "So, Dean, how hot is she?"
His brother's eyes lit up and his smile was radiant. "Oh, Sammy, she's definitely a ten. Bo's got nothin' on her."
Rolling his eyes, Sam tried to salvage the situation. "Alright. Dean, do you think you can track her down? We need to see if she has a connection to the ship."
"Sammy, don't worry, I got it covered." Dean gave his brother a wink and took off toward the exit. "Come on."
The Winchesters were used to gathering information, unearthing hidden facts, and accomplishing the impossible. Finding one hot girl in a small town couldn't be all that hard; at least that's what Dean figured, especially since she'd indicated she hung around the movie theater a lot. A few questions and I'm sure someone will know her from my description. I can definitely paint a picture of her. Yep, her image is right there, seared in my mind.
As they exited their theater and entered the lobby Dean let out an audible sigh of relief. Huh, that was easier than I thought. Dean triumphantly grinned as he led his brother over to the snack bar where a familiar body was leaning against the counter watching the hallway leading to the lobby. She shifted her perfect-ten body as they approached, pushing her ample chest out to full advantage and seductively licking her sensuous lips.
"Looking for someone?" he inquired of the stunning girl standing before them.
She offered a teasing smile and Sam immediately knew why Dean was so smitten. They were large and perky, and as far as Sam could tell, were real. Dean was the expert; he was sure he'd get a full report later that would confirm his observations. Her body language also conveyed a certain willingness to get friendly, particularly with his big brother.
God, Dean, I so do not need to be seeing this. You think Titanic was painful? How about watching your brother get friendly with the town tramp? Do you even care if she can't string together two words? Sam tried to shake off his self-righteous indignation, but it was pretty damn impossible to ignore the obvious as he observed Dean's reaction to her. His brother was grinning and acting like an idiot, fawning over her and gushing out lame pick-up lines. I guess not… what a jerk! The horny bastard.
"Hey, handsome. You were great in there. Why didn't you tell me you'd seen the movie that many times? It was so cool how you knew all the lines." She had now moved to close the distance between them, snuggling up against him, her hand wrapping around his back, stroking over his broad shoulders, purring in contentment. "Wow, I mean, that was so, so cool!"
Dean nervously smiled, almost blushing that she saw him perform his one man show.
Ouch! That one's gotta hurt! Especially since he seems to really like this girl. Sam mentally slapped himself. Get real, Sammy, like when would he not like a girl like this?
Dean was nothing if not smooth, easing closer to this girl and working his magic.
Sam rolled his eyes at the sight before him. Yeah, Dean's smooth. So smooth he makes a point of saying it every chance he gets. His preferred term is 'velvety smooth', not that big brother is arrogant or anything…
As the bombshell girl gazed into his eyes, mesmerized by his previous display of acting talent, Dean modestly replied, "Oh, that? That was nothing. Just trying to help out." He leaned into her and placed his arm around her waist and whispered in her ear. "So, I didn't catch your name."
She smiled a huge, freakin' grin and snuggled closer. Like that was even possible?
Yeah, from the looks of things, Dean's dry spell has dried up and blown away. Looks like rain… maybe a torrential downpour.
"Shelly… Shelly McIntire."
Dean smiled in turn. "Dean Winchester, and this here is my kid brother, Sammy."
"It's Sam."
Dean arched his eyebrows and cocked his head towards his brother. "Kids. Whatcha gonna do?"
She laughed. "Yeah, I have a kid sister too. Kinda hard to shake them sometimes." She smiled though when she leaned towards Sam. "Sam, so good to meet you."
Like I didn't hear what you just said? You think I'm as stupid as you?
"Dean..., the job?" Sam not so gently pushed, letting his irritation at being a third wheel show.
Dean's attention flashed back to his brother and the reason they were here. "Yeah, right. So, Shelly, you have a personal interest in Titanic or you just like a good love story?"
She sweetly smiled as she dipped her hand lower onto Dean's hip.
Man, can she keep her hands off of him, for maybe like ten seconds? Geez, get a room, guys! I really, really don't need to be seeing this. Sam tried to ignore the obvious flirtation and cut to the chase, "Did you know anyone on the Titanic? Lose any family when it went down?"
She turned her attention to Sam and actually seemed to be thinking. "No, but my grandma lost her fiancé when it sank."
Dean's attention was now fully on the job, his hunter instincts overriding his teenage hormones, which in all honesty, makes a strong statement on how effective their dad's training had been. "Really? What do you know about him?"
"Well, just that he was coming back from performing in a theater in London."
"Performing?" both brothers asked in unison, their eyes connecting on the same thought before they continued on in sync with barely an echo, "He was an actor?"
"Yeah. My grandma was supposed to go over to London with him, but her family wouldn't allow it. Wasn't proper." She smiled, tossing her hair, and angling her face closer to Dean. "Rose reminds me of Grams, you know, how they tried to make her all proper and all, and how she rebelled. You'd think they'd copied Gram's life."
"Really? So is your grandma still around?" Sam asked, hoping they might have a stronger connection to this spirit, even if it was a hundred-year-old woman. After all, old Rose still seemed to have plenty of stories to tell.
For the first time Sam saw genuine emotion on Shelly's face as sadness momentarily flashed across her pretty features. "No, Grams died two months ago. So sad, she so wanted to see this movie. She always talked about Titanic and how tragic it all was." She took only a moment to return to a smile, the memories of Grams bringing a grin to her face. "Grams was amazing. What a life, but she never forgot Jackson. He was the love of her life. You know, he was her first lover." Shelly's sly smile indicated she found the thought of her grams having a secret lover back then so scandalously delicious. "I don't think she ever forgave herself for not making the trip with him, for letting her family keep her all prim and proper. At least keeping up the appearance of being proper. After he died, she really cut loose."
"How?" Dean inquired, drawn into the story of her grams and her lost lover, their story definitely more interesting than the manufactured love story of Jack and Rose.
"Oh, she did it all. She joined the circus for a while, and she wore pants all the time like Hepburn, and she went to Hollywood and gave acting a try. Did four movies until she left that because the studios wanted to control her. She was a pistol, never let society or any man tell her how to act. I have her diaries. She wrote it all down."
"Huh. You think, maybe, we could take a look at those diaries?" Dean asked.
"Why? Why would you want to read my gram's diaries?"
"Just the parts around Titanic sinking. We're kinda researching a project on Titanic. That was the job I told you about. You know, the real stories behind Titanic." Dean gave his most sincere smile, a smile that could get a female bank manager to open up the vaults for him… and then insist on helping him take the loot back to his place. "Your grams sounds fascinating, just the kind of focus we're looking for with our book."
"Book? You're writing a book? Oh, Grams would be thrilled to be the focus of your book!"
TBC