A/N: Again, thank you for the reviews, alerts and faves. and to Amy90 - I can't send you a PM to thank you for the reviews so I will tell you here. You and the others that take the time to review make this a joy to do for you. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the universe. If I did, I wouldn't be here writing about them, I'd be living there, eating pie off of Dean's tummy. :)
Dean stood rooted to the dingy carpet of the motel room. What in the hell just happened? All it took was looking into her eyes. That simple gesture had turned his insides to marshmallow and rocked him to his core. How could he have let himself get caught up like that? Sam's feelings for Raven were obvious and he had just touched her face like a lover. If she hadn't moved when she did, he would have kissed her. His brother was standing next to him with nothing but anxiety written on his face. Dean felt like scum and decided to get out of the room before his guilt gave him away.
He grabbed some of the addresses that Raven had gathered and headed for the door. "I am going to get some work done, Sammy. When she comes out of there, see if she's up to some detective work. We've gotta get this case wrapped up before someone else dies. I'll check in later."
With the keys to his beloved car in one hand and a list of leads in the other, Dean strode to the Impala, sealing off any feelings that had surfaced for the beautiful hunter.
Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed when Raven came out of the bathroom. Her color had returned and her eyes were devoid of any pain. He knew it wasn't the right time but he needed to talk to her about the shivers. She sat next to him with an inquisitive look on her lovely face.
"How are you feeling?"
"Much better, Sam. That oil treatment worked like a charm." Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
He inhaled deeply and began, "Raven, Dean got a chill in front of me today. The exact same kind you seem to be having. When I confronted him, he admitted that you both knew about it. What's going on?"
She looked at her bare feet. "Sam, I honestly have no idea. Dean knew that we were having these chills before I did. When he came to me this morning, we both agreed that there was a connection between us and that we should look into it, but that's as far as we got. Honestly, I intended to tell you about the conversation but I didn't get a chance."
"That's not what I am upset about. What's bothering me is that you didn't tell me about this when you realized it was happening. Did it ever occur to you that these shivers could be connected to the case?"
Raven looked up into his eyes, worry etched into her features, "Yes, I had thought of that and no, they are not connected. The chills started before we arrived here, remember?"
Sam conceited that point to her. What he really wanted to do was tell her how he felt but this wasn't the time or the place. "I do remember. Please, if you are going to work with us, you can't keep something like that hidden. If I have learned anything from working with my brother it's this, keeping secrets, for whatever reason, only leads to distrust."
"Ok, Sam, I won't keep something like that from you again. I promise." She gave him a half smile and leaned her head on his shoulder. Sam gave an involuntary sigh of contentment. Her touch made him feel so peaceful. He kissed her on top of her head.
As she sat up straight, her expression was radiant and he couldn't help but grin at her, "You ready to get back to work? We have some family members to visit."
"Ready as I will ever be. Is Dean waiting in the car for us?"
Sam walked to the table and picked up the rest of the list of addresses, "Dean went ahead with part of the list. I figured you and I could split up the rest of it and cover more ground that way. You think you would be ok by yourself?"
Raven gave him a cool look, "I can do my job, Sam. I'm not an invalid." She walked toward the door, grabbing her coat and keys on the way, "Are you coming or not?"
Sam grinned and shook his head. This woman is tenacious, he thought. Sometimes she reminded him so much of Dean.
He took the steps of the white washed house two at a time. He had struck out at the first three addresses on his part of the list and was getting frustrated. Innocent civilians were dying on his watch and that was something he would not tolerate. His job was to save people and that's exactly what he was going to do. To hell with all this emo crap going on with Raven and Sam. Nothing was more important than the job.
Knocking on the screen door, Dean's game face was squarely in tact when the fragile looking woman answered. She was no more than five feet four inches on a good day and looked like a pale little prune. The white tuft of hair on her head was styled neatly and her clothing, although old, was clean and wrinkle free. She would have passed for everyone's grandmother had it not been for the brown eyes that looked him up and down, full of clever mischief. Dean was going to have to be careful with this one.
"May I help you, young man?"
"Well, Ma'am," Dean began, using his best southern accent, "my name is Robert Plant and I am a book author from Columbus. I wanted to ask you a few questions about William Cavanaugh."
The elderly woman cocked her head and asked, "You share the same name as the lead singer of Led Zeppelin. May I see some identification?"
He was completely taken aback that she would know who Robert Plant was. Luckily, he was carrying the fake Ohio license with Plant's name. She cracked the screen door and took the ID from his hand. She pulled her reading glasses from her shirt pocket and gave the fake license a good once over. Satisfied that he was telling the truth, she opened the door and permitted him inside.
The interior of the home was immaculate. Dean thought to himself that she was worse than Raven about cleaning. Shaking off the thought, he allowed her to lead him into what appeared to be the parlor. She offered him a seat on the sofa as well as some tea. He politely refused and she settled in next to him.
"Why would you want to know about my father, Mr. Plant?" Her expression was neutral but Dean could see a sharp intellect hidden in her gaze.
"Well, Ms…" Dean began.
"Morgan, my name is Elizabeth Morgan."
"Ms. Morgan, was your father a veteran of World War Two?" Dean asked, taking a pad and pen out of his pocket to look more official.
"Please, call me Lizzie, and yes he was. He was killed in action when I was just a baby and never held me. That's his picture there on the mantle."
He glanced at the black and white photo of the young soldier. The man in the photo shared his observant eyes with the woman in from of him. "Do you have any information concerning the circumstances surrounding his death?"
She looked at the picture and said sadly, "My father was shot by a German soldier in North Africa, November 22, 1942. His company was ambushed and he never had a chance. The only reason we have any information at all is because his body was returned here, to Bedford. He is buried in the Bedford Cemetery with his three brothers, who were also killed in the war."
Dean's attention was captured, "There were four sons killed in the same war?"
"Yes," she replied, "My father was the third son and the last one that died. They were killed within months of each other. From what my mother told me, my grandfather was devastated."
His gut told him he was on to something. "I can only imagine how upset he was," He tried the empathy thing that he'd seen Sam use dozens of times, "Do you know if he ever mentioned being angry enough to want revenge?"
Watching her eyes go from wistful to astute, he knew she suspected something. "Why Mr. Plant, you think my grandfather has something to do with the suspicious deaths in town, don't you?"
Dean stammered and she tried to hold in a giggle but was unsuccessful. When he looked up from his notebook, she was outright smiling at him and he knew he had been played. "You know the truth, don't you?"
Her answering smile held as many questions as answers and, "Yes," was her simple reply. "A man visited my mother and me when I was only 13 years old and assisted us by ridding our home of a nasty spirit. I do believe you are called 'hunters' now?"
Dean just shook his head and said, "Well I'll be damned."
"Watch your language, young man," She scolded. "Now, how about telling me your real name since I know you don't sing for Led Zeppelin."
He chuckled, "I'm Dean Winchester, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise, Dean. And that name suits you so much better. So you think my grandfather might be possessing the tank in the square?"
He was again amazed at the astuteness of the woman. "Well, we aren't sure. We are tracking down as many family members of veterans of the war as we can. We think it's a good place to start."
"We?" she asked.
"My brother, myself and another hunter are in town, trying to solve this case before anyone else gets hurt."
"I can tell you this, Dean. My grandfather's spirit has been restless for years. My mother swears that she saw him here in the house many times. I have seen him myself. My mother would tell me stories about him. He had to be placed in a mental hospital after my father's death. He was insane with grief and rage. She told me that he would shout at anyone who would listen that the 'Japs and Krauts' needed to pay for what happened to his sons. So, it would be a reasonable guess that he is the one responsible."
"Lizzie," Dean began, leaning towards her, "are you aware what we are going to have to do to get rid of your grandfather's spirit?"
She nodded at him, "I believe you have to salt and burn his bones. Is that right?"
He smiled at her, "Yes ma'am. That's what we have to do. He's buried here in Bedford, right?"
Again she nodded, "He's buried with his children. If you would like, I can show you where the plot is."
"No ma'am. That's not necessary. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were to get hurt. As a matter of fact, it might not be a bad idea to lay down salt lines on all your doors and windows. If your grandfather's spirit finds out you told us about him, you could be in danger."
She grinned at him again, pulling back the curtain of the window next to her, "Way ahead of you Dean." He saw the rock salt lining the sill and turned to see the broken salt line next to the door.
Dean winked at her and said sweetly, "Lizzie, you are just full of surprises."
A/N: This hunt is coming to a close but there are more planned as well as the telling of Raven's story. So, for those of you who are in this for the long haul, you will not be disappointed. :)