This mainly coincides with Season one episode eleven "Scarecrow" Please read and review! I need it like a need air.
The phone rings in the few instances where the brothers aren't awake. Diesel wakes first to the piercing noise. She growls, being disturbed while sleeping on her owners chest was not something she held in high regards. Sam rolls over and tries to call to Dean to answer the phone, but it doesn't help. So he finally reaches across the nightstand and when the incessant ringing silences, Diesel once again curls her furry head back into Dean's chest. Sam shot up from his bed "Dad?" Diesel's eyes shot open. She turned to Dean immediately and frantically nudged her wet nose under his chin.
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"Alright, so the names dad gave us, they're all couples?" Sam was driving, and Diesel took her usual place in the back seat. And by god we're they both flustered. When Sam had handed Dean the phone he just obeyed like a trained dog, she would know. It's almost been a whole year with these boys, and she'd be a damned liar if she said didn't care for them. Especially Dean, when she had first glamoured him she had gotten a very brief look at his soul, no biggie, she did it all the time. What Diesel didn't expect was (she wouldn't dare call it love) she felt something. There was something soo…alluring about Dean's soul, she couldn't help herself. Shaking her head she pulled out of her self-induced comatose and tried to pay attention. "All different towns, all different states?" Sam said, and Dean read off the states to him. "And each of them drove cross country; none of them arrived at their destination, none of them ever heard from again."
"It's a big country Dean."
"Yes, nut each route took them through the same part of Indiana, always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."
Sam slowed the car a few minutes later, "We're not going to Indiana. Dad called from a payphone, somewhere in Sacramento, California."
"Sam—"
"Dean, if this demon killed mom and Jess, we gotta be there, we gotta help." Diesel whined. Dean patted her head "Hush…it's okay girl, Sam he gave us a direct order."
"I. Don't. Care." Diesel whined louder as the brothers argued. Sam stormed out of the car and opened up the trunk. Diesel tried to clamber out but Dean slammed the door to quickly. She jumped into the back seat and tried to listen through the window. Muffled shouting was all she could hear. Dean got back in the car, Diesel managed to nuzzle up under his arm, and she heard Sam leave after the trunk slammed shut. Dean pat the front seat as an invitation, "Come on up girl." She wriggled her way through the seats and planted herself in Sam's former position. She lay in silence as Dean drove away.
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It was raining when they pulled up to some small town restaurant in Indiana. Dean came out first, and then he came around and opened the door for his faithful companion. The man sitting out front of the place eyed them as they strolled up. "Hi my name is John Baunam—"
"Isn't that the drummer from Led Zeppelin?"
"Wow. Good, classic rock fan, well this is my dog Diesel," she barked happily. "What can I do for you John?" Dean frantically pulled some missing persons papers from his jacket. "Just wonderin' if you've seen any of these people by chance?" the man took the papers "Nope, who are they?"
"Some friends who used to watch my dog." Diesel whined for effect. Dean prattled on about where they came from until the man said "No, we don't get many strangers around here." Dean gave him a flustered look and he left for the general store after the man stared daggers at him. He left Diesel in the car, and returned a few moments later, the ghost of a smile on his face "We gotta lead old girl."
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They drove down the highway until Dean's EMF meter started going ballistic in the back seat. The car slows and ends up in front of a large orchard. Dean heads out and leaves the door open just long enough for Diesel to get out. The two walk for a short while and come upon a low standing scarecrow and Diesel couldn't help but bark and growl. Something about that scarecrow wasn't holy, it wasn't demon, but is sure as hell was close. Dean moved a hand to silence her fit. "Dude, you fugly." Dean grabbed a ladder and hoisted himself to meet the Satan spawn's gaze. Diesel stood by, anxiously padding the ground.
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The two returned a few hours later to the gas station of the small town. He got out and made small talk with some little blonde while she filled up. Diesel sat in the front seat patiently. She wished she could turn right now, being a dog was exhausting. The legs, god, who knew having four legs and no thumbs was so damn hard. Dean got back and drove to the motel. One room, one bed, he looked around and flickered the switch. "Home sweet home, Eh girl?" he grabbed some pillows from the battered old couch and placed them at the foot of the bed. "Here you go, nice and comfy." He patted the pillows and she hopped up onto them. He sat down next to her and absent mindedly rubbed her neck. He sighed as he dove under the covers, drifting into a fitful sleep.
Diesel couldn't hold in her curiosity any more, she had to take a peek at his dreams, if only to help his nightmares. She reached out her subconscious to Dean's …
Dean was alone, no Sam, no John, just himself to depend on. And it scared the living crap out of him. He sat quietly in a dark room, chained to the floor. No one knew he was there; no one would come and save him.
Diesel appeared in a darkened hall, visibility almost zero. She was in her human form, and fully clothed (Thank god). She took a step forward and something clicked. "Heels? Really?" She whispered furiously to herself.
Dean heard something, the clicking of boot heels. Dean braced himself and tightly shut his eyes. He didn't want to see his captor. "Are you alright Dean?" It was a soft voice that of a woman's, but still strong, still dominating. "Y-yeah…" he shut his eyes tighter. A soft hand caressed his face and he recoiled at the touch. "Dean, open your eyes please, I won't hurt you." He opened them slowly and green eyes met dark crimson and it was magic. Dean wasn't in the Dark room any more but sitting on the shore of what he was guessing was a very large lake. The breeze was slow and cool and the watery smell filled the air. The mysterious woman was sitting next to him and she was gorgeous: Long, dark hair, full red lips, an amazing figure, and dark crimson eyes. Absolutely Stunning. "Who are you?" He managed to spit out. She grinned and flashed her perfect set of white teeth. "A good friend." He visibly relaxed and lay back on the sand. She turned to face the lake. He stared up at her perfect features. "Do I know you?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"Awhile."
"You gonna tell me your name?"
"No."
"Then what can I call you?"
"Crimson." He sat back up and focused hard on her face, trying to see if it was familiar. She stared back out of the corner of her eye. "Did I ever sleep with you?" she laughed loud and hard "Definitely not!" She tossed the hair out of her face. "You gonna talk, or am I just here to be pretty?" his face contorted in confusion. "About what?" she sighed and rolled her eyes. "I don't know… you're mother, Sam, the fact that your father left you and Sam can't follow orders?" He stood up. "I don't know who the hell you are—"he stopped, she was staring at him so…strangely… "Sit down." She commanded he nodded in consent. "Speak." The strange feeling stopped and he was brought back to reality. "Dean, I just want you to talk to me. I care about you and you getting hurt makes me want to kill something to make you feel better." Dean was in disbelief. Her expression was so sincere; he couldn't help but open up. It was only a dream after all… The pair spent the night talking about everything, and Dean felt a weight lift off his shoulders. When it was time for him to leave he could feel the compulsive need to stay, to talk with her forever. The woman led him to a bush, "Through there, your subconscious will do the rest." She smiled and he waved goodbye as he walked through.
Dean woke to the piercing sunlight coming through the window and Diesel lay across his waist, snoring ever so lightly.
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The sheriff escorted them out of town, Dean was furious. First, they don't bring him their "Famous apple pie" then they insult poor Diesel and ask him to leave town. Diesel lay sprawled in her seat, poor Dean, the overprotective bastard (she still wouldn't dare call it love) he went ballistic after the officer threatened to kick her.
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They returned several hours later to the orchard; Dean grabbed his sawed-off from the trunk and let Diesel out of the backseat. She kept closely in front of him, sniffing the air experimentally. They heard screaming in the distance. They looked at each other and ran towards the noise. Diesel found the young couple quickly. "Get back to the car!" Dean shouted. The scarecrow was chasing them scythe swinging frantically. He shot the thing in the chest but it didn't help, it kept coming after them with even more ferocity. "Diesel catch up with the couple!" She barked in agreement and ran after the couple. He followed soon after, still trying to shoot the damned thing. When they finally left through the gates of the orchard and in front of the doors to the car they turned to face the scarecrow, but there was nothing.
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They had to sleep in the Impala that night, Dean secretly hoping that Crimson would appear to him again. And she did. He arrived at the lakefront early he supposes, because he was the only one there. He listened to the waves until someone came out from behind the bushes. "Hey, lil' troublemaker!" he laughed. "Hey!" he waved "What took you so long?" she looked nervous, "Oh…uh…nothing, just decided to make you wait." She flipped her hair out of her face and sat down next to him. She was wearing a white sundress and some red sandals, her hair was braided instead of out like last time, her eyes seemed a brighter, cherry red. Dean and "Crimson" spent the rest of the night talking, about random things, bands (she had a flair for Queen), differing flavors of pie, the works. When the night was over they stood, and Dean, not being able to control his actions, hugged Crimson. She smelled of strawberries, and cinnamon apples, and something that was completely her own. It was magnificent. He caught himself hugging for too long and quickly pulled away.
It was the most wonderful feeling in the world; he smelled of motor oil, and aftershave and something else that was completely wonderful. Diesel wished she could hold on to the smell forever, but Dean let go (much much too soon). He stopped in the entryway and said, "Do you really want me to go? I mean," he gestured to himself "I'm quite the catch." She laughed to herself "No, not really but don't you have some town to be an unspoken hero to?" She folded her arms over her chest. "You're coming back tomorrow?" he tried to keep the pleading feeling from reaching his face. "Of course, I'll even bring a bathing suit." His eyes widened and he returned to his consciousness.
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Diesel woke hours later to the soft hum of the Impala's engine. Dean had probably carried her in here… She was dazed and a little hungry; she lifted her head just in time to see Dean hang up his phone. "Morning girl." He kept his eyes on the road. The car pulled up in front of a building on some college campus. They met what she assumed was the professor at the front steps and him and Dean chattered as the professor led them upstairs to his office. He kept looking back at Diesel nervously obviously uncomfortable with her presence. Once they got to the office Dean proceeded to interrogate the professor on the "Theoretical" happenings of local pagan gods. As Dean got to the door to leave he thanked the man for his cooperation. He opened the door and the sheriff of the small town was there and cracked him in the head with the butt of his gun. Diesel panicked and lunged at the sheriff, but he kicked her hard in the chest. She slammed up against a nearby wall as a sharp pain blossomed around one of her ribs. The professor bagged her in an old sack and she could only watch helplessly as they dragged Dean away. She was fully encased in the bag as her consciousness faded.
She woke later in a daze, but she was still in the bag. She frantically squirmed in a panic as she tried to get out. Her claws got caught in the side of the sack, and she pulled and ripped it open. She had to find Dean. She tumbled out of her makeshift exit and sniffed the air for any sign of her owner. Then she caught it, the faintest hint of motor oil and aftershave. Diesel bolted towards the smell and was greatly rewarded when Dean saw her gunning for him through one of the rows of trees. "Diesel!" he cried and knelt down to embrace her. She tackled him roughly, and was unaware of the others until Sam pried her off. "Come on! We have to get out of here!" The girl shouted (which Diesel chose not to notice) and Dean jumped to his feet. They ran down the aisles of trees until the man and woman from the general store jumped out from behind a tree and stopped the dead in their tracks by pointing his shotgun. Diesel looked around and saw they were surrounded, by all the patrons in the town. Diesel stood behind Dean and growled at their captors. Suddenly a blade ran through the girl's uncle's chest. His wife screamed as a dark mangled arm wrapped around her neck. The scarecrow swung his scythe through the collapsed man's leg. He dragged the couple off into the darkness of the abandoned orchard.
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Diesel stayed in the car as the boys got the girl on the bus. On the way back, she saw the boys make up. The way brother's always do, with soft voices and a shitload of sarcasm. She smiles internally as the get back in the car. Taking her place in the backseat.