A/N: I want to apologize profusely for the long wait, guys! I was uninspired for a bit, got re-abducted by Merlin and Doctor Who, but hopefully you readers haven't given up on me yet because this is going to hopefully turn out to be one heck of a ride for our boys! :) Enjoy, and please REVIEW!

I'd Follow You Anywhere

Chapter Three

It was a few blocks later when Sam finally caught up to the blonde girl wearing the baby blue dress. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, his mind trying feebly to remind him that Jessica was dead and he should stop and think for a moment, but his heart, it seemed, was in control of his feet. Consequently, the rational part of his brain was overruled and he continued to follow her even though she couldn't possibly be here, alive.

When he had caught up with her, it was because she had stopped rather abruptly. Sam could only see the back of her, her long, wavy blonde hair cascading down her back in rivulets. With a shaking hand, he reached out to touch her lightly on the shoulder and –

"What the hell are you doing?" an unfamiliar voice snapped at him as the girl turned around. Sam started at her dumbly. She was wearing a blue dress that was similar to the one Jess had been buried in, but it wasn't identical. She also had blonde hair, long and curly, but that was where the similarities ended. She was pretty, he supposed, with blue eyes, a small, slightly turned up nose, and thin lips. He supposed that from a distance, it was possible that she could be mistaken for his late girlfriend. Possible – but not likely.

"I said, what are you doing?" the girl spat again, shrugging her shoulder from his light grip as Sam gaped, trying to figure out what had happened. People on the street were beginning to stare and Sam snapped out of it, withdrawing his hand.

"Uh, um, sorry," he managed as the girl rolled her eyes.

"You've been following me for four blocks; what are you, some kind of creep?" Sam realized by her tone that she was nervous and her anxiety was being portrayed as anger.

"No, really, I… I thought you were someone else." Sam figured that he must look pretty shaken, too, because the few bystanders shot him varied degrees of sympathetic looks (most of them reading as "Oh dear, how embarrassing for him; sure glad I don't look that stupid!") and walked away. The girl, a few years younger than Jess had been, narrowed her eyes suspiciously before turning and continuing on her way.

Sam remained where he was standing, mind racing, heart pounding, and scolded himself for getting so shaken by the incident. After a few minutes, he'd calmed down considerably, wondering why he'd followed a girl that had mildly resembled Jess when he knew full well that she was dead – had been for over a year now.

He shook his head slightly, trying to shrug off the weird happening, and muttered, "Coulda sworn..." His mind now mostly back on the case, Sam propelled himself into motion once more, heading back in the direction he'd come from. He still had two more people to interview before meeting Dean at the bar.

By the time he'd talked to the families of Karlie LaRae and Randy McClain, respectively, he'd all but pushed the incident out of his mind because of the new and unusual information he'd uncovered. And when he met his brother at the local bar and exchanged stories, he'd all but forgotten about it in light of their investigation, and didn't mention it to Dean at all.

Dean Winchester frowned as he took a swig of his second drink. He was sitting at a small but tall table near the corner of the local bar, perched on a spindly old barstool that he had been surprised but pleased to find wasn't nearly as fragile as it looked. He had considered getting some of the bar's gumbo – Louisiana was great! – but had decided to wait until Sam decided to arrive and get them both something.

In front of the hunter was a manila folder with the files on the two suicide victims – closed, just in case some nosy stranger decided to sneak a peek into 'official' FBI business – and a small notebook he had scribbled some notes in, opened to the third page. He'd gotten to the bar about half an hour ago, had waited for Sam at the actual bar for about half of that time, and then decided he may as well get a couple of drinks and look over his findings while he was waiting for his little brother to take his time. He was reading over his notes for the fifth or sixth time and was still at a loss. John's journal was in the Impala, tucked away in the locked dash, and Dean had thought about grabbing it but hadn't acted on it yet.

There was a chipper little ding! as someone entered the bar and Dean didn't even have to look up to know it was Sam. A few minutes later, his brother sat down heavily across from Dean, set two bowls of gumbo on the table, and said, "So."

Dean finally looked up from the notebook as Sam shoved one bowl of gumbo in Dean's direction. "Aw, Sam, how did you know?" Dean teased in a simpering voice as he pulled the food the rest of the way toward himself.

Sam smirked. "No matter how many monsters, ghosts, and demons we hunt, no matter where we go, one thing will never change –"

"Your unfailing adoration and servitude for your beloved older brother?" Dean supplied, grinning as his brother snorted.

"—your appetite," Sam finished firmly.

Dean made a face, not bothering to deny the truth. Instead he opted for his favorite comeback. "Bitch."

"Jerk."

There was a beat, then Sam was back to business. "Dude, whatever it is we're after, I've not seen anything like it; this is… weird."

"If it's even one thing at all," Dean added. "It's like we've hit ghost-haunt central here. I mean, everyone I've talked to has said that their dead family member had, at one point, lost someone very close to them."

Sam nodded, his lips pursed in thought. "Same here. But it's weird – I talked to the babysitter for the Walker guy, and it had been a year since his wife had died. But she didn't die jumping from a cliff, but in a hit-and-run, and even though Walker blamed himself, it was an accident that had nothing to do with how he committed suicide."

"Maybe he just couldn't cope," Dean said. "Doesn't sound like there'd be a connection. I would say it's a coincidence, but…"

"I take it your interviews were just as strange," Sam said, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, finally opting to take a bite of his gumbo. Sam watched, barely containing a smirk, as Dean's eyes went wide and beads of sweat appeared on his face.

"What's the matter, tough guy? Louisiana gumbo too hot for you?"

Dean gave Sam an evil look before swallowing and washing it down with the rest of his beer. "Dammit, Sam," he rasped, obviously more embarrassed than annoyed, "we're supposed to be working a job here, show some professionalism!"

Sam's eyebrows rose again. "…Says the guy who just finished his second beer and is about to get up for his third as we work a case."

Dean, who was halfway out of his chair, quickly sat back down just to prove his brother wrong. "Am not." A pause as Dean tried to regain his cool, and then, "So your other stories were along the same lines as the babysitter's, huh?"

Sam nodded and Dean couldn't help but notice that his brother seemed to become a bit ruffled at Dean's mention of the babysitter. Grinning widely, Dean said, "Was she hot? Did Sammy get a date?"

Sam's quick change of subject was enough to reassure Dean that he needed to find out more about what had happened at this Delilah Johnson's house, because if the bright red of Sam's face said anything, it was that whatever he found out could be blackmail and teasing fuel for a long time to come…

6 deaths in 2 weeks. Suicides? Has happened many times in the past. No discernible pattern.

LeGrange – most recent – saw daughter before he died. Avenging spirit? Died… happy?

None of the victims knew the others personally. All deaths in family within last 5-10 years. Some felt guilty, others didn't. None directly responsible for family/friends death.

All looked at peace/joyful/ecstatic.

Ghosts? - why a sudden outbreak of angry spirits? And why act now instead of right after death? How can they move around and why aren't 'suicides' connected? NOT typical ghost behavior!

Ghouls? – need a body to feed on, no reports of missing corpses?

4/6 victims cremated – check out graves, burn & salt just in case tonight, special/cursed items holding them here – none so far

Demons? –Definitely not, can't possess a rotted corpse, and why the guilt factor?

*find out why Sam squirms every time his babysitter friend's name comes up

Sam looked up from where he was reading over the notes Dean had just helped him compile so that they could get a bigger picture. Sam's eyes rolled in exasperation. "Really, Dean?"

"I'll bet she was a cougar. Is that it, Sammy? That's it, isn't it? HA!"

Sam knew that the bright red of his face had given him away but that didn't stop him from adamantly denying it, or, when Dean had to leave the table to make a bathroom trip, from getting some killer, ultra-hot sauce and dousing Dean's remaining bites of gumbo with the stuff. Sam could have sworn that when it made contact with the food, it sizzled a bit.

When Dean returned and took a huge bite out of his food, Sam was not disappointed in the slightest by the result, which included a quick and quite ungraceful leap off of the barstool, a string of swear words under his breath that Sam would have never thought to use together, and Dean's empty cup thrown at his head. Then Dean had grinned as Sam rubbed his head and said, "Thanks, Sammy. That bland crap needed some flavor."

Liar.

When they left the bar a few minutes later, Dean with a still burning tongue and Sam with an aching forehead, they were still no closer to figuring out the connection between the victims, if it was one ghost or many, or if it even was a ghost, or… It made Sam's head hurt to think about it. It just didn't make sense. They returned to the hotel with a plan to go over their notes – again, just to make sure they didn't miss something – and look through their father's old journal before it got dark. Then, it would be the graveyard shift for the Winchester brothers – literally.

But even though they were going about this like a normal case, something in Sam's gut told him that this was something they had never come up against, something much bigger, perhaps, than a 'normal' case.

A/N: Ha! Finished chapter three, yay! I'll hopefully update within 1-2 weeks and we'll get this rolling! The action's coming soon, I promise, but I want to set up the mysterious feel and put a little comic relief in there before it gets too angsty. :) Hope you're enjoying and please review!

~Emachinescat ^..^