A/N: Hey guys! I'm thinking about continuing this story because I really miss the spn family and writing. However, because I'm in school, updates may be slower and random but I'll try my best to write as much as I can, especially on the weekends.
ALLIE'S POV:
It only felt like I was asleep for a couple of seconds before I woke up to Sam talking on the phone around three in the morning. I felt Dean sitting up straight, watching Sam intently. I tried falling back asleep, but when I heard Sam say the word "Dad" my body instantly sprung up. An awful pain hit me like a brick right underneath my breasts. I was going to curse loudly, wondering why I felt this way. But then I remembered the rock salt hitting me hard. I probably looked like a crazy person as I stared at Sam wide eyed.
"We're fine. Dad, where are you?" Sam asked him.
"Is that Dad?" Dean said. I rolled my eyes. What a stupid question.
Sam ignored Dean. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom—A demon? You know for sure?"
I raised an eyebrow, not only intrigued with the fact that of all people—Sam was the one talking to Dad on the phone, but now we knew what killed Mom and it was a demon, which made me hate demons even more than I thought was actually possible.
"A demon?" Dean asked. "What's he saying?" I could hear the frustration building up in his tone.
"You know where it is?" Sam asked Dad. "Let us help—why not?"
"Give me the phone," Dead said.
Sam didn't move, listening to whatever bullshit excuse our father was giving him.
"Names? What names, Dad—talk to me, tell me what's going on—No. Alright? No way."
"Give me the phone," Dean said again.
Dean finally reached his breaking point and ripped the phone out of Sam's hand. I looked at it. It was Dean's phone.
"Dad, it's me." Dean said. I saw his face wash over with relief as our dad spoke back to him. "Where are you?—Yes, sir.—Uh, yeah, I got a pen." Dean slapped my shoulder as if that was my cue to get the pen. I rolled my eyes and reached over into the nightstand and pulled out a black pen. "What are their names?"
I watched as Dean scribbled down a couple of names, then glanced over at Sam who looked deep in thought with an evident frown etched across his face.
I didn't go back to sleep that night. Dean insisted we get on the road as soon as possible, which meant a half hour after he hung up the phone. Dean let Sam drive so that he could do some research on the names Dad gave him. Sam was speeding down the road at four in the morning. My chest was sore and a shot of pain spread through me every time I moved. When I went to the bathroom, I lifted my shirt and saw a dark blue bruise forming, no doubt starting to turn black.
Sam informed us of his conversation with Dad. Apparently he was on the demon's trail that killed Mom and he also confirmed it was the same demon who killed Jessica. He refused to give up his location, asking us to trust him. The worst of it was Dad telling Sam that the three of us have to stop looking for him.
"Alright, so the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?" Sam asked Dean.
How could neither of them be tired? Yeah, Dad's phone call came as shock and it kept me wide awake for at least an hour, but now the lack of a good sleep was finally catching up on me. How were they not affected? I wish I knew their secret.
"Three different couples," Dean confirmed. "All went missing."
"And they're all from different towns? Different states?"
"That's right. You got Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again."
"It's a big country, Dean," I grumbled from the back seat. I was lying across the entire back seat with my eyes closed and my arms folded across my chest. Every bounce the car made had me grunting painfully. I tried keeping quiet so Sam wouldn't feel bad about it. "They could've disappeared anywhere."
"Yeah, could've." Dean replied. "But each one's route took 'em to the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."
"This is the second week of April," Sam said.
"Yep."
"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?"
"Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man's a master." Dean said. Sam sighed at Dean's response and pulled the car over to the side of the road. I peeked one eye open to watch his actions. Dean looked confused and Sam looked frustrated. I sighed to myself, knowing that this was going to end up in a fight. "What are you doing?" Dean asked.
"We're not going to Indiana," Sam stated, glancing between Dean and I. The look of determination was written on his face.
"We're not?" Dean asked, but his tone of voice said we sure as hell were.
"No." Sam said. "We're going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code."
"Sam," Dean warned.
"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help."
"Dad doesn't want our help," I said. Another pain in my chest made me frown, but then I realized it wasn't from the rock salt. It was the sad and irritating thought that Dad didn't want us anywhere around him.
"I don't care," Sam snapped.
"He's given us an order," Dean said. I rolled my eyes at that one. Again with the orders.
"I don't care," Sam repeated firmly. "We don't always have to do what he says."
"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, save lives. It's important."
"Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge."
"Alright look, I know how you feel—"
"Do you?" Sam questioned. Dean looked up at him shocked. I slowly sat myself up straighter to look between the two. "How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?"
"Sam," I warned. It didn't matter how long ago Mom died or how old any of us were when it happened. Her loss had affected all of us our entire lives. Although Sam had an extra and more recent loss, it didn't make our feelings any smaller than his.
"Dad said it wasn't safe. For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away." Dean said.
"I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it's like you don't even question him."
"Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Dean fired back at him. I sucked in a sharp breath. This was it. This was the fight I warned Dean about literally yesterday. Sam angrily got out of the car to which Dean quickly followed. I was hoping my eyes would open, I would be back in our motel room, and this was just an awful dream. But because I knew that was far fetched, I slid out of the car too. Sam was unloading his things from the trunk. My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach as soon as I realized what was happening. "You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks."
"That's what you really think?" Sam asked in disbelief. His glare was stone cold. His shoulders moved up and down due to his deep breathing.
"Yes, it is." Dean said.
"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California." He swung his backpack over his shoulders and started walking away.
"Sam!" I called after him. My voice was shaky as it threatened to break. I took a deep breath when he turned around to look at me. His eyes softened when he looked at me. Suddenly, memories of him leaving when we were eighteen flashed through my mind. He gave me the same look before turning his back on me. "You're really going to do this again?"
There was the anticipated crack in my voice, loud enough for both brothers to hear. I couldn't get Sam's eighteen-year-old face out of my head—his back walking out the door and never returning.
"I'm sorry, Allie." He turned around and walked away.
"It's the middle of the night!" Dean screamed after him. "Hey, I'm taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?"
Sam stopped walking again. He paused before turning around. I had a small sense of hope that he was going to change his mind. But that quickly diminished when he narrowed his eyes back into that mean glare. "That's what I want you to do."
They stared at each other, hoping one or the other was going to apologize and take the other person's side. I broke the silence when I stomped back to the car and hopped into the front seat—no longer liking this feeling of sitting in the passenger seat.
"Goodbye, Sam," I heard Dean say before getting back into the driver's seat.
We didn't say a word to each other but I felt Dean's concerned stare watching me. I kept my eyes narrowed out the window, the familiar picture of Sam's back walking away through the side view mirror of the impala. Déjà vu hit like a brick.
Dean and I finally reached Indiana. The deafening silence was killing me, yet I made no move to try and start conversation. All I could think about was the conversation I had with Dean yesterday, and how I was right. Sam left.
We pulled into Scotty's Café, which seemed popular enough for people to possibly recognize the missing couples. I tried wiping Sam out of my mind to focus on the job, but when I thought of the job, I thought of Dad's call, which led me back to Sam. It was a depressing ongoing circle.
There was a man sitting outside the café in a chair on the wrap around porch. He was drinking a coffee and reading the morning paper.
"Let me guess," Dean said, pointing at the sign above him. "Scotty."
Scotty looked at the sign and nodded, "Yep."
"Hi, my name's John Bonham," Dean said.
"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty asked. However he didn't sound suspicious. He thought it was pure coincidence.
I glanced at Dean who looked at little taken back. "Wow. Good. Classic rock fan."
"What can I do for you John?" He asked Dean. I bit my lip at the sound of my Dad's name. I know that's pathetic, but whatever. Shut up.
Dean pulled out two pieces of paper from his pocket. We found them stapled to a couple of posts on the street. They were the most recent couple. Holly and Vince Parker. In their picture they were smiling like nothing in the world was going to stop them from being happy.
"We were wondering if you had seen these people by chance," I said, deciding not to just stand here and look awkward.
Scotty glanced at me before taking the flyers out of Dean's hands. "Nope. Who are they?" He asked.
"Friends of mine." Dean replied. "They went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here, and I've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem—"
"Sorry," Scotty said, handing the flyers back to Dean. "We don't get many strangers around here."
Dean nodded, "Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?" Both Scotty and I looked at him strangely. Dean chuckled to himself. "Never mind. See you around." He walked away, motioning for me to follow him.
"What the hell was that?" I asked, hopping in the front seat of the impala. Dean didn't answer me.
He shrugged and passed me a glance. "Are you and I going to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" I asked, but what the hell would he be possibly talking about other than Sam. I knew my question was stupid, but I was hoping he would get the hint that I didn't want to talk about it.
"Sam—"
"Not now," I cut him off. I returned my attention back to the window, finding comfort in the distraction from Dean.
"I'm sorry." Dean said, but dropped the conversation after. I looked at him a minute later and saw the frown on his face and the sadness in his eyes. He was no longer angry at Sam, but sad that I had to suffer the consequences of his fight with him.
We pulled up to a gas station. One, because Dean needed gas. Two, because it was another popular stop for strangers to pass by on their way through town. Maybe the people who worked here knew.
"You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?" Dean asked the man behind the counter of the gas's minimart. It was called Jorgeson General Store.
The man behind the counter was Harley. He was an older gentleman with white hair and a fuller body. Next to him was his wife Stacy. She was more petite with brunette hair cut to under her ears and a pink shirt.
Harley handed our missing persons flyer to Stacey. She observed them and shook her head in bewilderment.
"Nope, don't remember 'em," Harley said. "You said they were friends of yours?"
"That's right." Dean said.
"Did the guy have a tattoo?" A younger woman around Dean's age walked behind the couple with cardboard boxes. She placed them on the countertop and walked over to look at the pictures over their shoulders.
"Yes, he did," I nodded, finally feeling as if we were getting somewhere and that all of this running around that Dean and I were doing wasn't for nothing.
"You remember?" She looked at the other two as if they should have recognized the couple. I mentally took note of that. "They were just married."
Harley's face lit up with recognition. "You're right. They did stop for gas. They weren't here more than ten minutes."
Ah, now he can remember all the details—including how long they stayed. Interesting.
"Do you remember anything else?" Dean asked.
"I told 'em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town," Harley explained.
I looked up at Dean to see if he was buying this story, but I couldn't read his face.
"Could you point me in that same direction?" Dean asked with a smile.
Dean followed the directions Harley gave him to the Interstate. The sun blazed down on the street late in the afternoon. I had to squint from the glare caused by the windshield. Out my window was a pretty view of a large orchid.
"So—"
"I could really go for some pizza tonight." I cut Dean off before he could say anything. "Are you in the mood for some pizza?" I asked him, glancing at him innocently.
Dean stuttered, caught off guard by my random question. "Ye—yeah. Pizza sounds good."
"With extra cheese," I grinned.
I watched as Dean's jaw clenched from being annoyed with me. I don't understand why Dean was so keen on speaking to me about Sam. He was never one to talk about his feelings or divulge into mine.
A beeping noise came from the backseat. Dean and I glanced at each other before I reached back to rummage through Dean's duffel bag. I pulled out the lit EMF reader. We were in the middle of nowhere, I thought, why would this be going off? I got an idea and leaned towards my window and held the EMF to it. The beeping became more frantic as it was placed closer to the orchids.
"What the hell?" Dean said while observing what I was doing.
He immediately pulled over. We walked through the large slab of land. Golden corn stalks and burnt grass crunched underneath our boots.
"Why would the EMF go off in the middle of nowhere?" I asked him.
"I don't know," Dean replied. He was just as confused as I was.
We approached a scarecrow standing on a wooden post. It was bigger than me, dressed in a red, yellow, and black flannel underneath denim overalls. On top of it's head was a worn-down top hat. Strands of hay poked out from all over. It's smile was drawn with black sharpie.
"Dude, you fugly," Dean said to the scarecrow. I nodded my head in agreement. The scarecrow was creepy. "Wait, Allie look at this."
I moved to stand next to Dean and looked at the hand Dean was pointing to. There was a design on its arm that slightly poked out from under its sleeve. I narrowed my eyes at it while Dean moved to grab a nearby ladder and climbed it so he could be eyelevel with the scarecrow. He pulled down the scarecrow's shirt to reveal the familiar looking tattoo.
I pulled out Vince's Missing Person's flyer from my back pocket and compared the two tattoos. They were exactly the same. I gave Dean a pointed look. "Nice tat."
Now we got the idea that Harley lied to us about seeing Vince and Holly leave town. I knew there was something about Harley's information that I didn't trust.
We went back to the gas station. We were surprised to see the young girl from before working the gas pumps. I thought this would be a great opportunity to talk to her since she was the one who recognized Vince and Holly immediately.
"You're back," She looked surprise when Dean and I stepped out of the car.
"Never left," Dean said.
I noticed her nameplate necklace around her neck that said "Emily."
"Still looking for your friends?" She asked gently.
Dean nodded and pointed to his car. "You mind filling her up there, Emily?" She smiled and grabbed the pump behind her. "So, you grew up here?"
"I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."
"They're nice people," Dean said, but neither of us were so sure.
"Everybody's nice here."
"So, what, it's the, uh, perfect little town?" I asked with a grin.
She said, "Well, you know, it's the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it's almost like we're blessed."
Dean nodded, "Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?"
She scoffed lightly, "Yeah, it creeps me out."
Dean laughed, "Whose is it?"
"I don't know," She shrugged. "It's just always been there."
I spotted a red van parked near the garage. It was late at night, which meant that the garage should have been closed. I pointed it out to Emily. "Is that your aunt and uncle's?"
"Customer." Emily answered. "Had some car troubles."
I was afraid she was going to say that.
I licked my lips and felt my hands start to sweat. "It's not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?"
"Mmhmm." Emily hummed with a nod nonchalantly. I glanced over at Dean who mirrored my concerned expression.
We had to find that couple.
The next morning we went to Scotty's café and walked towards the wooden coffee bar. Scotty was rounding back around it after serving it to the couple behind us.
"Oh, hey, Scotty. Can we get two coffees, black," Dean said and glanced behind him at the couple. "Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it." I grinned at Scotty as he shuffled around behind the bar. Dean turned around on his stool and addressed the man and woman behind us, thinking that this may be the couple that owned the car. "How ya doin'? Just passing through?"
"Road trip," The woman answered.
"Hm. Yeah, us too." Dean nodded his head in my direction. I watched Scotty eavesdrop on the conversation and walk around to their table to refill their cider. My eyes narrowed at him.
"I'm sure these people want to eat in peace," Scotty said to Dean. My jaw clenched.
"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean grinned at him. He was expecting this kind of response from Scotty. "Oh, and those coffees, too, man. Thanks."
Scotty scrunched his face in agitation and turned around to get us our drinks.
This time it was my turn to talk to the couple. "So, what brings you to town?"
"We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives. " The woman replied with a relief-filled smile. She glanced at her boyfriend/husband who looked just as equally as relieved.
"Is that right?" I smiled at them.
"Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us." The man nodded.
"Nice people," Dean repeated.
"Yeah."
"So, how long till you're up and runnin'?" Dean asked, concerned etched on his face again.
"Sundown."
"Really," Dean shook his head. I watched him rake through his thoughts. "To fix a brake line? I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn't charge you anything."
"You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it." The woman replied. I huffed out a breath at the failure of Dean's attempt.
"Sure. I know," Dean continued. "You know, it's just that these roads. They're not real safe at night."
I watched the couple exchange looks.
"I'm sorry?" She asked.
"I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger."
I mentally rolled my eyes at Dean. He meant well, but this was only going to push the couple away from us, not trust us.
"Look, we're trying to eat. Okay?" The man next to the woman was getting annoyed.
"Yeah," Dean nodded. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. "You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you'd just buy right into it." I looked down at the bar as I thought of Sam. He would have easily persuaded these people to let us fix the car so they could get out of here quickly. Dean and I were too much of hardasses to take the time and look soft.
The bell under the entrance of the café door rang. A sheriff walked in with his hands on his hips. Dean and I knew this was our time to leave when Scotty rushed to the sheriff.
The sheriff approached the two of us and looked down on us condescendingly. "I'd like a word, please."
"Come on," Dean huffed. "I'm having a bad day already."
I slapped Dean on his arm.
"You know what would make it worse?" The sheriff asked.
"An Earthquake?" I asked sarcastically. This time it was my turned to get slapped on the arm by Dean. I couldn't pass up that opportunity.
"An earthquake?" Dean looked at me after glancing back in the rearview mirror. The sheriff from the café followed us out to the interstate to make sure we left town. The man even kept his sirens on.
"I'm having a bad day already?" I fired back. He basically gave me the okay to say what I said when he responded that way first.
The sheriff turned his siren and lights off and turned around when we crossed the bridge, completely out of town.
"We're not actually going to leave are we?" I asked Dean.
"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked. "That couple is next. We gotta get back to that scarecrow."
The sun was starting to set and the sky was getting dark. Dean swerved the car back into the direction of Indiana. As I stared out the window, I couldn't help but think of how much Sam would be a help on this case. He would be able to convince the people of the town that we only meant well and his research skills would be able to help us get this case over with faster.
Dean and I reached the orchard again. By now, the sun had completely set and the sky was completely dark. The cool air brushed against my arms as we ran deep into the orchards. It didn't take long for us to hear the couple cry out in fear.
Dean and I sprinted towards them with our rifles raised. My feet crunched against the stale leaves and my body warmed up as my legs moved quickly.
We found the couple in the middle of the orchard. They were holding each other tight while staring into the face of the scarecrow that was now alive and scary as hell. It was hard to see it in the dark, but it was it was clearly the scarecrow with a pointy weapon in its fabric hand.
Dean ran to the couple and turned them around to run. I stood in front of them and shot at the scarecrow with rock salt bullets. They barely had any impact on it except to anger it immensely.
"Go! Go!" I screamed at them since they barely seemed to move two steps since Dean and I reached them. Dean's head snapped in my direction when he heard the tone of authority in my voice. My bullets did nothing to the scarecrow, which meant the most we could do now is run. "Now! Go!"
The four of us ran away from the following scarecrow.
Dean and I would occasionally turn around and send another rock hard bullet through it's stuffing, but it did nothing but slow it down a little bit.
My legs started to burn the more I ran. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins, and I felt a rush of energy.
I turned around one more time to shoot at the scarecrow again, but this time it was gone. I stopped running to stare into the empty orchard. Dean did the same and looked around for a walking haunted scarecrow but it had completely disappeared.
"What—" The man panted next to this wife. "What the hell was that?"
"Don't ask," I shook my head, saving the two of them from some scary nightmares.
It turned out the couple's car broke down once again right next to the orchard and the only way back to town was walking through it. How ironic. Dean was able to fix the issue, thank god, and the couple left town immediately after offering some apologies and thank yous.
Dean and I walked back to the car and sat in silence for a couple of minutes. We were both catching our breaths. I glance over at Dean, trying to read his facial expression. His eyes darted left and right as he racked his brain for our next move. He licked his lips anxiously, something he did when he was deep in thought.
He reached into his front pocket for his cell phone. I narrowed my eyes as he scrolled through it until his screen lit up with Sam's name.
"You're calling Sam?" I called him out, looking at him incredulously.
"I'm just checking up on him." Dean shut me down.
I huffed but decided not to say anymore. Although I was still mad at Sam for leaving once again, I understood where Dean was coming from. Sam was in god-knows-what state and hanging out with god-knows-who. He wanted to check up on him and make sure he was okay.
I sat in silence as Dean talked on the phone with Sam. After saying their hellos, Dean put the phone on speakerphone so I could hear him as he talked about our case. He knew I was too stubborn to ask to talk to him, but he knew me too tell to not let me listen in.
"The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" Sam asked. His voice was low as if he was somewhere that would have people looking at him funny if they heard what he was talking about.
"Yeah, I'm tellin' ya. Burkitsville, Indiana. Fun Town," Dean deadpanned. He glanced at me, his eye catching my attention towards the phone. His lips twitched up into a smirk.
"It didn't kill the couple, did it?" Sam asked.
"No."
"So, something must be animating it. A spirit," Sam said.
"No, it's more than a spirit. It's a god. A pagan god, anyway." Dean said.
"What makes you say that?"
"Allie figured it out, actually." Dean said. My eyebrows raised in shock as Dean actually gave me credit for something. "The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin' 'em up like a Christmas turkey."
"The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims." Sam paused. "How's Allie doing, anyway?" Sam asked, not realizing he was on speaker phone. Dean glanced at me as if begging me to speak, but I kept my mouth closed.
"She's not too happy, but she'll get over it," Dean answered honestly. He was right. I would get over it eventually.
Sam sighed on the other end of the phone. He sounded like he wanted to say more about it but he held back.
"So a god possesses the scarecrow…" Sam continued.
"And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won't wilt, and disease won't spread."
"Do you know which god you're dealing with?"
"No, not yet," Dean said.
"Well, you figure out what it is, you can figure out a way to kill it."
"I know. I'm actually on my way to a local community college. I've got an appointment with a professor. You know, since I don't have my trusty sidekick geek boy to do all the research."
I smiled next to Dean and looked out the window so he wouldn't see it.
"You know, if you're hinting you need my help, just ask," Sam laughed.
"I'm not hinting anything. Actually, uh—I want you to know….I mean, don't think…."
I glanced at Dean as he struggled on his words. He was never the best at apologizing, but luckily Sam and I knew that very well and were able to pick up on what he was trying to say.
"Yeah." Sam said. "I'm sorry, too. Make sure Allie knows that."
Dean looked over at me. "I will." Dean sighed. "Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."
"Are you serious?" Sam asked.
"You've always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway….I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."
"I don't even know what to say." Sam said.
"Say you'll take care of yourself." Dean said softly. I bit my lip at the serious moment.
"I will." Sam said.
"Call me when you find Dad."
"Okay," Sam said sadly. "Bye, Dean."
Dean and I went to the nearest community college to learn more about pagan gods. For the record, I hated working with gods. They were selfish and more violent than they needed to be. Every one of them wore an overconfident smirk every time you tried to talk to them and they always acted like they were one step ahead of you. Stupid bastards.
I thought about Sam and Dean's conversation as we walked inside the community college building. Dean called to make sure Sam was still okay being on his own, but he also called to say goodbye—letting him go free to do his own thing. My heart had sunken when I heard Sam say goodbye, thinking it would be a while before I saw that sasquatch again. I was going to miss the dork.
"Its not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology." The professor snapped me out of my thoughts as he walked into the room with a large textbook.
"Yeah, well, call it a hobby." Dean responded. He gave me a sideway glance before returning his attention back to the professor.
"But you said you were interested in local lore?" The professor raised his eyebrows.
"Mmhmm," Dean hummed.
"I'm afraid Indiana isn't really known for its Pagan worship."
"Well, what if it was imported? You know, like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?"
"Well, yeah."
"Like that town near here, Burkitsville. Where are their ancestors from?"
"Uh, northern Europe, I believe, Scandinavia."
"What could you tell us about those Pagan gods?" I asked. My suspicion slightly raised when I couldn't read the professor's face. He looked like he was wearing a mask.
"Well, there are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses."
"We're actually looking for one." Dean shrugged. "Might live in an orchard."
The professor moved around us and placed the large book on his desk and flipped through the pages.
"Woods god, hm? Well, let's see." His fingers skimmed through the pages. Each page had a picture sketched into the yellowish pages. A picture of a scarecrow flashed across the page and I jumped forward.
"Wait, wait, wait. What's that one?"
"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se." The professor said. He shrugged at the picture.
"The V-Vanir?" Dean leaned forward and read from the page. "The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female."
I pointed to the picture. "Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?"
"I suppose." The professor said.
"This particular Vanir that's energy sprung from the sacred tree?" Dean asked the professor.
"Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic." The professor replied.
"So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"
The professor laughed. "Son these are just legends were discussing."
I rolled my eyes at the response. Every professor said the same thing.
"Oh, of course. Yeah, you're right. Listen, thank you very much." Dean reached over and shook his hand.
"Glad I could help." The professor said.
I walked behind Dean to the door. When he opened it, the sheriff from before was waiting outside in the hallway. Before either Dean or I could say something, he raised his rifle and smashed it against Dean's skull. I didn't react in time because by the time Dean hit the floor, the sheriff knocked out too. I fell next to Dean.
Dean and I woke up in what felt like a small box. It was dark and cold. Little light seeped in through the small cracks above us through wooden panels. We must have been underground in some sort of tornado cellar.
Dean was already awake when I woke up. He was walking around the cellar while trying to think of some kind of plan to get us out. My back ached as I sat up and my head was pounding.
"Oh good, you're awake," Dean said when he heard me groan.
I was surprised to see our hands weren't tied and we weren't bound by our feet. Whatever was going on in this town, the sheriff was a part of it and I would bet all my money that Scotty, Harley and his wife Stacy were behind it too.
I couldn't help but think of Sam. I was starting to miss him even though I was still mad at him.
The wooden doors above us creaked open as they were shoved apart. Four people stood above us and I had to squint under the grey sky. I was right. Three of the people were the Sheriff, Harley, and Stacy. The fourth person was Emily and she looked petrified. Her uncle shoved her in with us and she stumbled next to me. My mouth dropped open in shock. She was being sacrificed by her own family.
"Aunt Stacy. Uncle Harley. Please," Emily pleaded. Her voice shook and tears ran from her eyes. I was stunned that her family could let her die like this. Sam and Dean would never offer me up to be killed even if it meant saving their life. "Why are you doing this?"
"For the common good," Stacy glared down at us. Her lips were flipped into a frown. The men beside her wore the same face.
"The common good is not killing your own family," I glared back at him. They answered by shutting the door and leaving us in the dark again. "Psychos!"
Dean climbed the slope and used his fist to bang on the wooden door. Nothing happened other than dust raining down from the force. They locked it and Dean couldn't seem to break it.
"I don't understand," Emily said. "They're gonna kill us?"
"Sacrifice us. Which is, I don't know, classier, I guess?" Dean gave up on the door and walked over to Emily and I. "You really didn't know anything about this, did you?"
"About what?" Emily scoffed. "The scarecrow god? I can't believe this."
"Well, you better start believing, cause I'm gonna need your help."
"Okay." Emily nodded.
"Now, we can destroy the scarecrow, but we gotta find the tree." I said.
"What tree?" She asked.
"Maybe you can help us with that. It would be really old. The locals would treat it with a lot of respect, you know, like it was sacred."
"There was this one apple tree. The immigrants brought it over with them. They call it the First Tree."
"Is it in the orchard?" I asked.
"Yeah, but I don't know where."
Silence fell between us which gave me time to think about the sticky situation we were in. Every year a boy and a girl are sacrificed for the well-being of this town. Except this time, they had two girls and one boy. They brought Emily here on purpose and Dean seemed to be the only guy they could find. Where did that leave me?
"Dean," I said as realization crept up on me. "If they're gonna use you and Emily as the sacrifice, where does that leave me?"
Dean's eyes went wide as he thought about it too. You know what killers do to witnesses? They kill them too because they already have no conscience.
I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, "I'm screwed."
"Don't say that." Dean barked.
"I don't see why else I'm here when they took Emily!"
Before Dean could yell at me again, the cellar doors open. The grey clouds were still light enough to make me squint in contrast to the black cellar. I was finally able to make out the features of the three adults who stood over us, although I knew who it was going to be from the beginning.
"It's time," Stacy said in a low voice.
Dean and I glanced at each other nervously before the three of them came down. Harley stood in front of Dean and bounded my brother's hands with a zip tie. Stacy did the same to Emily while I got the sheriff.
We trudged along the crunchy grass that has been scorched by the hot sun. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs when we reached a small opening in the orchard. Harley and the Sheriff tied Emily and Dean against two trees. They tied each wrist to a high branch so their arms were extended over their heads.
"How many people have you killed, Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?" Dean asked.
"We don't kill them." The Sheriff muttered, pulling tight against the restraint.
I glared over Stacy's shoulder who tried blocking my view of Dean and she sucked at it. "No, but you sure cover up after. I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?"
Was I going to be next?
"Uncle Harley, please." Emily begged for her life and I felt a pang of guilt hit me.
"I am so sorry, Em. I wish it wasn't you." Harley shook his head and for a second I actually believed him. He sounded disappointed and his ties around Emily's wrists were slowly done like he didn't want to hurt her.
The Sheriff replaced Stacy guarding me. She walked over to kneel in front of Emily.
"Try to understand. It's our responsibility. And there's just no other choice. There's nobody else but you." She caressed Emily's cheek.
"I'm your family," Emily said weakly.
"Sweetheart, that's what sacrifice means. Giving up something you love for the greater good. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one."
"Why does it have to be her?" I yelled. "Take me and let Emily go."
"It doesn't work that way," The Sheriff sneered at me.
I glared, not liking his cocky attitude towards me. "Watch your tone their, Sheriff."
"It can't be you. It has to be a couple…and they're the closest ones we got. You're Dean's sister so it wouldn't work." Harley replied as if that was a simple answer.
"So then what are you gonna do to me?" I wanted to keep my tough act going but suddenly I felt scared. They were getting ready to leave.
Stacy glanced at her husband nervously. It looked to me that they obviously hadn't figured that part of the plan out. I looked at Dean with my eyes slightly wide.
"Let's take her back," Harley said, glancing between Stacey and the Sheriff.
"Harley, we don't kill people—"
"Oh, yeah because this right here isn't murder or anything," I pointed to Dean and Emily with my bound wrists.
"There's a first time for everything," Harley said with a shrug of his shoulders. I tried not to look fearful and sent a deadly glare his way.
He moved away from Emily and walked towards me and pushed my shoulders backwards so I would turn around. He forced me to move my feet away from Dean before I could say goodbye or before Dean could curse out at any of them. I tried fighting back, but the Sheriff pressed a rifle to the middle of my back. The cold barrel felt sharp against my spine.
I looked over my shoulder one last time to see Dean's worry stare aimed at me as I walked away.
DEAN'S POV:
"So what's the plan?" Emily asked as soon as her aunt and uncle were out of sight.
I stared into the empty orchard in the direction that Allie just walked. She was no longer in sight. Me blood felt like ice that shivered me all the way to my bones. My brain wracked with all the horrible thoughts of what they were going to do with her and I felt completely useless and that I failed as an older brother.
"I'm workin' on it," I said.
The grey clouds were turning black as the night continued to approach. Every plan I came up with was pulled away by the thoughts of Allie laying in a ditch somewhere. The thought that I would never find her again made me nauseous.
Hours later, the sky was completely dark and I was surprised that I hadn't thrown up all over the place yet. Not only did I have Sam, but now I was missing Allie and I was all alone. How was I supposed to save Emily when I can't even save my own family?
"You don't have a plan, do you?" Emily finally asked after hours of silence. She looked at me with a knowing look.
"I'm workin' on it." I said again. This time I was panicked. It was getting dark which meant that scarecrow could be out any second. "Can you see?"
"What?"
"Is he moving yet?" I asked.
Emily turned her head to look around the fat tree trunk. "I can't see." I heard the rustling of branches or grass or something of that nature. My heart picked up it's pace which I didn't know was physically possible. "Oh my god." She said. This was it. We were screwed, I thought. I pull at the ropes around my wrists. The roped dug into my skin, ripping the top layer of flesh. "Oh my god!"
My eyes widened at the man who walked out from behind the trees. It wasn't the scarecrow. It was Sam.
"Dean?" Sam tilted his head at me.
"Oh! Oh, I take back everything I said." I said, completely overjoyed with the sight in front of me. "I'm so happy to see you. Come on."
"Where's Allie?" He asked.
Sam moved to undo my ties. I felt my wrist loosen up as the tied became undone. I sprang to my feet immediately. Sam moved over to Emily and undid her ties as well.
"Come on," I said, thinking of nothing else but Allie. "We gotta find Allie."
"We should go back to the cellar." Emily suggested. "I don't think my aunt and uncle would have killed her. They're probably storing her there until they think of something else, plus there not going to the orchard when there's psychotic scarecrow on the loose."
"Okay, let's go." I demanded.
I ran as fast as my legs could take me. I wisped through the trees and felt the wind blowing against my face and blowing through my lungs.
When we reached the cellar, I stomped on the wooden panels. "Allie!" I shouted. "Allie!"
"Watch out," Sam pushed me aside and whipped out his pistol and shot at the metal lock. I quickly moved to open the doors and was relieved to find Allie curled up in the corner. She was sweating and panting for breath.
"Allie," I breathed and ran in to grab her. The air down here was stuffy and hot. Although she was sweating, her skin felt cold. "Hey. Hey, Shortstack." I grinned. I have never felt so relieved to see her. I really thought she was dead. "You're gonna be alright."
"This cellar sucks," She said softly. Her eyes flitted open to look at me. They were duller than usual. "I was slowly suffocating from lack of oxygen. And now I think I'm seeing things." She moved her eyes away from me to look at Sam and Emily. "Is that Sam?"
"Yeah, that's Sam," I chuckled lightly. I wrapped my arm around her neck and pulled the top of her head to my lips and kissed her hair softly. I stood up and carried her bridal style out of the cellar.
"Is she alright?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, she could barely breathe down there." I said.
"Dean, let me walk," She mumbled. I looked down at her. Her eyes were still closed as she had rested on my shoulder.
"Allie—"
"I'm a big girl, Dean." This time, her eyes were open as she looked up at me. When I looked down at her, all I could see what the little baby I pulled out of the fire 21 years ago. I wish she could shrink to that size all over again.
"Okay," I said and slowly set her down on her feet. She stumbled a little bit, but managed to stand up herself. "Let's get out of here."
"What about the scarecrow?" Sam asked. He was watching Allie, but she looked like she was refusing to make eye contact with him. "Lets' find it and burn it."
"Nah, in the morning," I said. "Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up." We started off on a light jog so that Allie could get used to using her legs again.
We reached a clearing where the three people who've I've grown to despise blocked our way. With them, were a couple of other townspeople that I didn't recognize.
"Please. Let us go." Emily pleaded.
"It'll be over quickly. I promise." Harley said.
"Please." Emily said again.
"Emily," Harley took a step forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Allie take a step towards Emily. She was pissed and if she got her hands around Harley's neck, he was done. "You have to let him take you. You have to—"
Harley was cut off by a sickle stabbing him through his back and out of his chest. His eyes went wide and his mouth was open in surprise. Emily and Stacy scream. The scarecrow moved around Harley and wrapped is arm around Stacy, dragging her backwards.
Emily ran into my arms as she watched her aunt and uncle get dragged away. Everyone else ran away in fright. Allie glared in the scarecrows direction, not even phased by what just happened.
"Come on," I said after a silent moment. "Let's go."
ALLIE'S POV
The next morning, the four of us walked back to the orchard to find the tree that was responsible for all of this. The morning air felt cool as it brushed against my skin. I fell in step with Sam, who I had yet to talk to. I was shocked to see that he was back, still not knowing how or when he arrived. It must have been during the time I was taken away.
I spent hours in that cell, thinking I was going to die. I felt my lungs closing in on me as I sat in the corner of that cellar. During that time, I regretted not saying a final goodbye to Sam, knowing that with our lives, there was a good chance something would happen to one of us. In that case, it was me. And I didn't want to die with him thinking I hated him.
But now that he was here, I still felt something holding me back from running into his arm and hugging him tightly, begging him not to let go.
We eventually found the tree. It's trunk was rotund, engraved with the same tattoo Vince had, and its branches spread high into the air. It didn't have normal green leaves like every other tree. This one created beautiful pale pink flower petals that glittered in the wind.
Sam walked towards the tree with the gasoline tank. Dean moved around the three and picked up a large, fat branch, and lit it on fire.
"Let me," Emily reached out for the branch.
Dean glanced between the branch and her before handing it to Emily. She deserved to do this. She was about to be killed for this town.
"You know, the whole town's gonna die," Dean told her.
"Good." Emily said shortly. After Sam moved away from the tree, she threw the branch on the tree, slowly lighting up in flames.
We stood back, watching as the tree became a giant red and yellow light. I stared into the heat, thinking of how badly last night could have turned out, and I knew it was because of Sam that we were alive. And maybe that should have been a reason for me to talk to him, but I've lost something I can't describe when Sam chose to leave again. Maybe I was overreacting—I'm sure I was. But hopefully I'll get over it soon.
Next, we dropped Emily off at a bus station where she could be transported to Boston to start yet another new life. Hopefully that one won't turn out as shitty as this one did.
She got on her bus after saying thank you and goodbye. She waved one last time at us before taking her seat and she was no longer in sight.
"You think she's gonna be alright?" Sam asked.
"I hope so," Dean answered honestly.
"And the rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?" Sam asked.
"Well, what'll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough," Dean said. He started making his way back to the car. I saw Dean pass a glance my way before coughing awkwardly. "So, can I drop you off somewhere?"
Sam paused to think about it. I felt like that pause lasted years instead of seconds.
"No, I think you're stuck with me," he said.
I don't know what answer I expected to hear from him or what I wanted to hear. But my heart plummeted to my throat at his response and I felt surprisingly relieved.
"What made you change your mind?" Dean asked, stopping by the car.
"I didn't. I still wanna find Dad. And you're still a pain in the ass. But, Jess and Mom—they're both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, Allie. We're all that's left. So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."
I watched Sam glance at me as if asking for my approval. His stare felt like knives stabbing me in the stomach and I had to avert my eyes to ground. Of course I would rather him come with us than be alone. But I couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
Dean looked at me too, waiting for me to say something. When I refused to open my mouth, he decided to make light of this moment with a joke.
"Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful." Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder dramatically. Sam swatted it away and laughed lightly.
"You should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat, dude." Sam smiled as Dean rounded to the other side of the car.
"Yeah, right. I had a plan, I'd have gotten out."
"Right," Sam laughed as Dean hopped into the driver's seat. Before Sam hopped into the front seat, he said my name, stopping me from getting in the car. "I'm sorry, Allie. I am."
"Sam," I said weakly. It was the first thing I've said to him since he's been back. He licked his lips anxiously as he waited for me to speak. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to verbalize how I felt. "You have to stop saying that." Sam opened his mouth to say something but he choked on his words, unsure what to say. "It's redundant."
"What can I do to make this better?" he asked desperately.
"Stop leaving." I said shortly.
A pause fell between us. I knew Dean was eavesdropping from the front seat, not like it was hard to do or anything.
"Okay. Okay. I'll stop leaving."
I laughed humorlessly. "I don't believe you."
I jumped into the backseat before Sam could say anything. I felt Dean's disapproving stare at me through the rearview mirror but I refused to make eye contact. Sam got into the front seat a minute later, also refusing eye contact or willing to speak up.
I'm happy that Sam is back, but I hate that I can't trust him to leave again.