Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter- this one was a lot of fun to write, and I hope it's also a lot of fun to read. A quick thank you to Dramione Winchester-Halliwell and Saphirabrightscale for your reviews, favorites, and follows- I'm always looking for feedback, and I hope you continue to like the story! :)
I woke up the next morning to Dean hovering two inches from my face. This was not the first time he had done this, so I opened my eyes slowly, blinked once, and proceeded to punch him in the stomach. He groaned and fell over next to me, and I sat up and laughed.
"Every time, Dean! You fall for it every time!"
"Ah, shut up," Dean grumbled as he got off the bed, rubbing his stomach.
Sam shot us an annoyed look from the couch, where he was listening to his voicemail. That look didn't last long though- it's awfully hard to look annoyed when you're being violently tickled. After a few minutes of that, I gave up, and turned to Dean.
"Hey, I'm starving. You?"
"Yeah, me too. I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street- you want anything?" Dean asked, putting his jacket on.
"French fries please!" I yelled, making my way to the bathroom.
"Who the hell eats French Fries for breakfast?" I heard him mutter to Sam as I closed the door.
"Ella, apparently," Sam responded, trying to listen to his voicemail again.
"You want anything, Sammy?"
"No," he answered, only half-paying attention.
"AND DON'T FORGET THE RANCH!" I yelled at Dean just before the door swung shut.
I threw on a black tank top, ripped skinny jeans, and my favorite red flannel, and attempted to tame my crazy-curly hair before giving up and throwing on my favorite black beanie. I adjusted my small silver septum ring and put on a little mascara before I opened the door and flopped down on the bed. Sam looked up and did a double take.
"What? Is there something in my hair?" I asked, frantically patting at the long dark curls.
"No… You just look different, that's all," Sam said, putting his phone down on the couch next to him.
"Well yeah, the last time you saw me I was 14, Sammy. Things change," I responded, pulling on socks and my favorite black work boots.
"Yeah, I guess they do," Sam said, smiling slightly.
Then his phone started ringing, and he grabbed for it, knocking it off the couch. He scrambled onto his hands and knees to grab it and found it, holding it up triumphantly. But when he looked at the screen, his face fell slightly, and he rolled his eyes before answering.
"What?"
He stood up quickly and held up five fingers in my direction, and I quietly started gathering my stuff.
"What about you?" Sam asked as I handed him his bag, and he started shoving stuff in.
Dean must have hung up on the other end, because Sam threw his phone in the bag and peeked out the window before darting back behind the curtain.
"Come on, let's go," Sam said, throwing our stuff out of the bathroom window before helping me climb out. He followed me soon after, and we ran towards the Impala and got in.
Later that night, as we were driving along the nearest highway after stopping to see Joseph Welch, my phone rang. I pulled it out and saw that it was a number that I didn't have saved in my phone, and held up the phone so Sam could see before answering.
"Fake 911 call, El? Nice one," Dean said through the phone.
"You're welcome," I smirked, and Sam snorted from the driver's seat.
"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean said, and I frowned.
"Yeah, you think? So apparently Constance's husband was unfaithful- we're definitely dealing with a woman in white. Apparently she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been John's next stop."
Sam motioned for me to hand him the phone.
"Yeah, but we can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet," Sam said, keeping his eyes on the road.
After a short pause, Sam's eyes widened, and when I poked him to ask what was happening, he put the phone on speaker.
"Dean, what's going on?" I asked, thinking something had happened.
"He's gone. Dad left Jericho," Dean responded, sounding extremely frustrated.
"How do you know?" Sam asked urgently, trying to stay calm.
"I've got his journal."
Sam and I both froze and stared at each other in shock before I managed to stutter out a response.
"B-but he doesn't go anywhere without it!"
Dean sighed heavily on the other end, and I could hear him scratching at the wall of the phone booth.
"Yeah, well, he did this time."
"What's it say?" Sam asked, and we both leaned forward to hear his response.
"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where we're going."
"Coordinates," I said, leaning back in my seat. "Where to?"
"I'm not sure yet."
Sam sighed and pushed his hair out of his face before he spoke again.
" I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out on the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?"
Suddenly, Sam looked up and slammed on the brakes, scaring the crap out of me. I looked up as well and pushed my hair out of my face to see Constance staring at us from the road. The car went right through her as it finally stopped, and we both sat completely still, breathing hard.
"Sam? Ella?" came Dean's voice from the cupholder, where Sam had dropped the phone.
I looked in the rearview mirror and almost screamed- Constance was now sitting in the backseat, staring at us with dark, cold eyes.
"Take me home!" Constance yelled, startling me, but Sam just stared back at her with a hard look in his eyes.
"No."
I turned to Sam in shock, but he didn't move. I looked back in the rearview mirror, and saw that Constance was now glaring directly at us. Then we heard a loud click, and saw that the doors had automatically locked. Then the car shot forward, and Sam grabbed the wheel and tried to steer, but couldn't- Constance had taken complete control of the car.
"GUYS!" Dean yelled from the phone, making me jump.
"Dean, we're fine, but we have a problem. It's Constance- she's taken control of the car."
I pulled the phone away from my ear as Dean let out a long stream of curse words that only he could have strung together, waited a minute for the swearing to stop, then put the phone back to my ear.
"You done?" I said, sighing.
"NO!" Dean yelled, but managing to stop himself from letting out another colorful stream of words.
"Dean, she's taking us to her house. You better get there fast- she is NOT happy" I said, glancing into the rearview mirror at a very unhappy Constance.
Dean hung up, and we drove for a few minutes before pulling up to an old, abandoned house. The car stopped, and the lights and engine shut off.
"Don't do this," Sam pleaded, looking back at her through the mirror.
"I can never go home", she said in a small, gazing longingly into Sam's eyes. I almost felt sorry for her…. But that didn't last long.
"You're scared to go home," Sam said, understanding dawning on his face. He looked up at the mirror and saw that she had disappeared, and turned around to look into the backseat. But as soon as he turned back, she climbed onto his lap, shoving him back against the seat so hard that the chair reclined. I quickly unbuckled my seatbelt and tried to get out of the car, but the doors were still locked.
"Hold me. I'm so cold," she pleaded, stroking Sam's face with her ghostly hand. He continued to struggle.
"You can't kill me," he spat, glaring at her with hatred in his eyes. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!"
She smirked and leaned in closer until their noses almost touched, and Sam's eyes grew wide.
"You will be."
She leaned close and kissed Sam, pushing him down into the seat. He kept struggling, trying to reach for the keys.
"I SO did not need to see this," I gasped, grabbing the keys from the ignition and handing them to Sam.
Constance pulled herself back and disappeared, a dark shadow passing across her face as she vanished. Sam shot up in his seat and looked around for a moment, then looked at me in confusion.
"Where'd she- AAAHHH!"
He screamed in pain as he was slammed back against the chair, yanking his hoodie open to reveal five new holes burned through the fabric. Constance reappeared on top of him, her ghostly fingers reaching into his chest, seemingly attempting to rip his heart out. I struggled to pull the gun we always kept in the car out of the glove compartment, but stopped when I heard a yell from outside the car.
"ELLA, GET DOWN!"
By now I knew that if someone is screaming at you to get down and there's a ghost nearby, you better get the hell down! I slid into the space in front of the chair and pulled my arms over my head just in time for a shower of broken glass to rain down on me as a bullet pierced through the shotgun window. Constance shot up quickly and glared at Dean before vanishing, but she reappeared a second later. This time, I was ready for her,and shot her directly in the heart until she disappeared again. Sam sat up and started the car, and I quickly opened the door and rolled out onto the ground as Sam slammed the gas pedal and shot through the side of the house. Dean ran over to me and helped me up, scanning me for any injuries.
"You okay, kid?" he asked, looking at me frantically.
I nodded and brushed myself off, and once he was sure that I was okay, we both ran to check on Sam. Dean pushed through the wreckage while I hung back, ready to shoot Constance if she appeared again. Dean helped Sam out of the car, and once he had closed the door, they both turned around to see Constance standing by the door holding a picture of her children. She glared at them darkly and threw the picture down, and a cabinet flew towards the brothers, pinning them to the car. She turned to me and was about to do the same thing when the lights flickered, and she looked up with a terrified expression on her face. Water started to flow down the staircase, and I quickly made my way over to Sam and Dean.
"You guys okay?" I asked, and they nodded, but the cabinet still wouldn't budge. The water continued to pour down the stairs, and suddenly, two children appeared, holding hands at the top of the stairs.
"You've come home to us, Mommy," they said together, and then flickered so they stood behind her. They reached out to her and hugged her tightly, and she screamed, starting to flicker rapidly. In a surge of bright, fiery light, she and her children melted into a puddle on the floor, and all was still.
I helped Sam and Dean move the cabinet away from them, Dean giving it a sharp kick just for good measure.
"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean said stepping closer to the piddle and glaring down at it.
"That's why she could never go home," I said wearily, and Sam turned to look at me, surprised.
"Yeah. She was too scared to face them," he said, putting his arm around me and pulling me close to his side. He looked down at me with concern written all over his face.
"You okay, Ella?" he asked quietly as I leaned my head into his shoulder.
"Yeah, Sam. I'm okay," I said, smiling up at him before looking back at Dean, who was still standing in the same spot.
"You found her weak spot," Dean said, walking over to Sam and smacking his chest where he was injured. Sam laughed, obviously in pain, and I rolled my eyes at Dean's back as he walked over to the car, leaning over to inspect it.
"Hey Sammy?" Dean asked, twisting around with a smirk on his face. I sighed and walked over to stand next to him, leaning on the side of the car.
"If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you."
Sam and I laughed, and Dean reached out to pull the beanie off of my head and put it on his own. I laughed at how ridiculous he looked before jumping on his back and wrapping my long legs around his waist so I could wrestle it off his head, Once I managed to put it back in its proper place, I jumped off of Dean and ran over to the back door of the Impala, diving in before Dean could catch me. Dean shook his head and laughed out loud before climbing into the driver's seat, and Sam quickly followed suit. Dean pulled out of the wreckage of the house and we started towards the highway, leaving large clouds of dust in our wake.
We drove for awhile in silence, the only sound coming from the radio, which was playing a cassette Dean had made for me when John was out on a hunt and I was too scared to sleep. The soft sounds of the piano were making it very hard to keep my eyes open, but the second I heard Sam's voice, I snapped back to attention.
"Okay, here's where Dad went."
I leaned forward in my seat so that I could rest my chin on Dean's shoulder, and he reached back to ruffle my hair.
"It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado," Sam said, looking at the map he had spread out on his lap, lit up by a flashlight he had tucked under his chin.
Dean nodded. "Sounds charming. How far?"
Sam sighed before responding "About six hundred miles."
I could feel Dean sit up a little straighter in his chair, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could picture it perfectly in my mind- his eyes shining with hope as he turned to look at his brother.
"Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning," Dean grinned, and I felt my heart sink in my chest when Sam didn't respond. After a long pause, Sam finally spoke.
"Dean, I, um…"
I felt Dean sink lower in his seat, and he was silent for a second before he spoke in a flat, dull voice.
"You're not going."
Sam looked down at his lap and sighed before he turned to look at me with sad eyes.
"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there," Sam said, trying to meet my eyes, but I looked away and leaned back in my seat, trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall. Dean looked back at me in the rearview mirror and smiled weakly before he turned to Sam, nodding disappointedly.
"Yeah. Yeah, whatever," he said, returning his attention back to the road. He glanced at Sam one more time before he sighed.
"I'll take you home."
Sam turned off the flashlight, and we continued to drive. I couldn't hold back my tears any longer, and spent the rest of the drive silently crying in the back seat. Sam kept turning to look at me, but after a while, he gave up, and stared out the window in silence.
We finally pulled up to Stanford, and Sam got out of the car, leaning over to look through the window.
"Call me if you find him?" Sam said, and Dean nodded silently. Sam then turned to look at me, and I couldn't take it any longer- I opened the door, shot out of the car, and wrapped my arms around him, sobbing. Sam held me for what felt like forever, stroking my hair and telling me it would be alright and that I would see him again before I let him go and looked up at him, tears till streaming down my face. He wiped them away and leaned down to kiss me on the forehead before walking away, turning back to wave at Dean when he reached the doorway. I stood by the side of the car until the door closed behind him, and then I climbed into the passenger seat. Dean took one look at me and pulled me into his arms.
"It's okay, El. He'll be fine," he reassured me, and once I stopped shaking, he let me go and started the engine to drive away. But before we could get very far, we heard a yell from the direction of Sam's floor, and his window glowed with what could only be fire.
Dean looked at me in shock before we both opened our doors and sprinted towards the building, not slowing down except to kick the front door open. We ran into the room and saw Jess pinned to the ceiling, blood soaking her nightgown around her stomach. Sam was still on the bed, one arm raised to shield his face. It took both of us to pull him away from her and out the door, and we had just pulled him down the stairs and out of the building when flames engulfed the apartment.
Sam fell to his knees in shock, and I threw myself down next to him and pulled him into my arms. He rested his head on my chest and sobbed, and Dean held both of us so tightly we could barely breathe until the firemen came.
Once the flames had almost been put out, Sam got up and walked over to the car, opened the trunk, and stood there for a second before pulling out a shotgun. Dean got up and reached his hand down to me, pulling me to my feet, and we walked over to him. When we reached hi, I put my hand on his shoulder and he turned around, his face like a wall of stone. He looked at me for a second before turning to Dean, and nodded before tossing the shotgun into the trunk.
"We got work to do."