Ankeny Iowa – Frat Party

"Man, you've been holding out on me. This college thing is awesome." Dean winked and smiled as a girl walked past him. She smiled back, but nothing more. Alex rolled his eyes and turned to Faith. Sam was now talking to Dean in hushed tones, pulling out newspaper clipping after newspaper clipping. It was all cases and thoeries with these guys, no fun, no thrill-of-the-chase. Faith would not like working with these guys at all.

"Right, so where's this guy buried Faith?" Alex stood directly beside her and whispered almost undetectably. Faith heard every word, in that omniscient way of hers. She stood for a moment watching the boys before turning her head slightly to him.

"Unmarked grave, local graveyard" She gestured toward one side of the room. "About 20 minutes drive that way" Alex pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was late, traffic should be minimal, only thing to deal with was being caught digging up the old preacher. Plus there was the issue of what happens if the ghost attacks while they're too busy digging. People could die.

"We need someone to go and watch the reverend. He's one who is directing Carnes, even if it is subconscious. Lori won't be safe up there tonight." Faith gave Alex one of her trademark looks, the one that says 'we both know that you are doing what I say'. Alex sighed before walking over to Sam and Dean to break the news.

"Guys, we have a plan."

* * *

"So why are we going to dig this damn corpse up, instead of those two?" Dean was staring at the road, his voice carrying over the muffled sounds of Black Sabbath coming through the speaker. Alex had been flicking through the duffel bag the boys had thrown in the back of the car and, satisfied with what he found, slid it back into place. He looked at Dean, chuckled at the annoyed grimmace on his face, and replied.

"Because Faith wants to make sure you don't try to hit on Lori instead of protecting her." Alex was enjoying this, the look of irritation and confusion. It was like a child trying to work out why Mommy wouldn't let him have pudding before his main. Cute. Alex turned back to the book in his hands, an interesting read.

"I am a professional, she knows that. Right?" Dean paused, thinking. That confused but determined look spreading across his face. "She does know that." Defiant. The guitar solo of the song breaking ready for the final chorus, Dean begin nodding his head to the bassline, his lips gently forming the words as his eyes darted left and right through the windscreen.

* * *

"Sam, why are we just sitting here?" Faith was getting bored, counting the flowers in the church flowerbed only occupied her for so long before she got bored of that too. She turned to look at Sam, almost pleading him for something to do. Part of her was longing for a piercing scream or a spray of blood at a window, anything to break the awkward silences that held the space between them.

"We're here for Lori, just wait until we get the call from Dean." Sam's eyes never moved from the window of the house. Suddenly looking away and grabbing his duffel bag from the floor between his legs, he opened the door and dived out. Faith rolled her eyes, pulling a blade out of it's hiding place against her thigh to check it was there, before pushing it back and getting out of the car. Now where's he gone?

"Sam! What are you doing?" She whispered urgently. If they saw him from their window sitting in their garden, the game was up and they'd have the police called on them. It wouldn't be the first time these boys had been in trouble with the police in this small town from what Faith had overheard, so it wasn't a good idea to have a second run in. She edged her way along the hedgerow, trying to keep an eye on Sam while she moved.

* * *

Dean lit the match, holding it above the grave. Looking down at the hours of digging and the amount of salt and lighter fluid now filling the coffin he smiled lightly.

"Goodbye preacher," and dropped the match, the fire blazed and the bones were burned.

"No more Mr. evil ghost." Alex quipped. Dean just glared at him. Yeah, even I admit that the stuff I come out with, is crap.

* * *

Another figure was behind him, moving quietly up behind him. Lori. Faith rolled her eyes and stopped moving. She watched, patiently. Eyes darting back and froth between the house and the bench in the garden, she waited until Lori was going to leave. The house of the door opened, her father standing in the threshold. A verbal exchange, angry. The ghost. The blade. Her father dragged off into the house. The screams. The confusion.