Dearest Readers,

Living in Minneapolis, MN has been crazy lately, to say the least. Things might be difficult now, but I have hope they'll be better in the future. I hope everyone is staying safe, especially during these unprecedented times! Thanks for all of your support, it means a lot to me!

XOXO Ally Layne.

Holy Water

Chapter 13- The Green Monster

As they made their way back to the Impala, they walked down the boardwalk, and Persie smiled to herself as she could smell the salt in the sea breeze.

"What a crazy, old broad," Dean commented.

"Why?" Sam joked. "Because she believes in ghosts?"

"Yes Sam, that's exactly why," Persie deadpanned, as she lifted her head toward the breeze and took a deep breath of the fresh, sea air.

The boys looked at her in slight awe. "Is this... " Dean trailed off.

"Normal?" She offered.

The Winchesters nodded.

Persie shrugged, looking out at the water with a familiar longing. "I can feel the waves in my blood. I suppose the closer I am to the ocean, the greater it calls to me."

"How poetic," Dean lamented.

She grinned up at the older Winchester and let out a joyous laugh. However, she didn't catch the look of shock that followed her excitement, but Sam eyed his brother knowingly.

Dean shook his head and glared at his brother playfully. "But hey, look at you, already defending your girlfriend, you cougar hound."

"Bite me."

"Hey, not if she bites you first."

Persie snorted into her palm and turned away from some onlookers who looked at her due to the odd noise. "Shit, they're looking, aren't they?"

Dean looked over at them before placing an arm around her shoulders with a long sigh. "I think you don't have to worry about them, Seph."

Seph?

"At least we can take comfort in Gertie not being a demon," Sam commented, noticing that the two others had quickly fallen into some sort of other world.

Persie looked over at Sam innocently. "Yeah, you can take comfort in knowing that any and all bites will be non-lethal."

Dean threw his head back in laughter. "Yes! That's my girl!"

"You too?" Sam looked at her.

She shrugged, "You walked right into that one, Winchester."

"You're on, Jackson."

After a moment, Dean said, "So, who's this Alex? We got another player in town?"

"Maybe, maybe not," Sam admitted. "But it doesn't change our job."

"So, we're still thinking it's a ghost ship, right?" Persie asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, and it's not the first one sighted around here either."

"Really?" Dean asked, turning his head to look at Sam with interest.

"Yeah, every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of vanishing, three-mast, clipper ship out in the bay."

"And every 37 years, a rash of weird, dry-land drownings?" Dean guessed.

Sam nodded, making Persie cross her arms.

"Why don't I just ask my cousin to come and take a look?" She asked, looking between the two Winchesters curiously. "I mean, he does have control over ghosts and spirits, maybe he could sense something?"

Dean shook his head. "Whatever's happening is just getting started," he said, a grin taking over his features, before turning to look down at Persie. "I don't think we'll need his help, buttercup. Maybe next time."

She pursed her lips. "Just thought I'd offer."

Dean shrugged, before turning back to Sam. "So, what's the lore?"

Sam's brow furrowed as he thought back to what he had discovered. "Well, there are apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world."

"Flying Dutchman, the S.S. Violet, the Griffen…" Persie listed, before tapping her head in slight annoyance. "I know that I know more, but those are the ones I can remember."

The brothers stopped walking and looked at her oddly.

She paused in her steps when she realized they weren't following her, and looked back at them in exasperation. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," Dean said.

"Yeah, nothing at all," Sam added.

Persie sighed. "Just because it's not greek or roman doesn't mean I don't know things."

"Do you have some sort of freaky power that tells you whenever there's a shipwreck?" Dean asked her, wiggling his fingers at the "freaky power" part of his question.

She rolled her eyes. "No, I don't. Just because my father decides to take his wrath out on a ship doesn't mean I know about it."

Sam nodded, his features full of curiosity. "Is there anything you can sense?"

She shrugged. "Just when my father is pissed off, I guess."

"How does that work?" Dean asked, "Especially considering you don't know if a ship is wrecked because of one of your daddy's anger episodes."

The thunder rolled, making Persie roll her eyes up at the sky. "Shuddup, Dad. You know he's right."

Thunder sounded again, this time even louder, making the people around them shocked and worried considering there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

Persie held her middle finger up at the sky. "Stop scaring off my friends!"

Sam and Dean looked between each other, and back at the display of what is either nonsense or madness, and shook their heads. "Sorry, I guess," Dean said, looking upwards in confusion.

Persie sighed. "Gods. They're so annoying sometimes."

Sam chuckled. "Good to know."

"So anything else we know about those ships?" Dean asked as they started to continue their walk back to the Impala. "Besides that Persie's dad downed them all?"

"Well, they're almost all death omens," Sam explained.

"So, what happens?" Dean looked at his brother. "You see the ship and then in a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?"

Persie looked to him in sarcastic awe. "That makes so much sense, now. Thanks, Dean."

He winked down at her, looking back to his brother before he could see her faint blush in response.

"Basically," Sam said.

"So what's the next step?" Persie asked.

"We need to I.D. that boat," Sam explained.

Dean nodded. "That shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many three-mast, clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?"

"I checked that too, and actually… over 150."

"Wow," Dean whistled.

Persie shrugged. "That's actually fairly common with those ships. Mostly used for trade, those ships weren't always built up to par and it was really easy for those things to wreck. Also, in times before electricity, there weren't many ways for the captain to see the shoreline or any shallow areas before it was too late."

Both brothers looked between each other again.

"What?" She snapped.

"Well, uh, you seem to know a lot about ships," Dean offered, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to hold in the smile that threatened to breakthrough.

"We weren't really expecting that," Sam offered, but his amusement was much clearer on his face.

She sighed. "You both are going to be the death of me, I swear to the gods."

The thunder rolled.

Dean blinked. "Is that… uh, binding?"

Persie shook her head. "Nah, it's not like I swore on the River Styx. That's binding; the gods, well, let's just say they are terrible at keeping promises and oaths themselves, so I doubt they could hold me to anything."

The brothers looked at her oddly again.

"Okay, will you both cut it out?"

"It's just… weird to hear you talk about that stuff so calmly," Sam admitted.

Dean nodded in his agreement.

She shook her head. "Men," she grumbled.

The trio walked up some stairs to the lot they parked on, only to stop beside a meter and look around. The car wasn't there. Actually, nothing was actually there. It was just an empty space.

"Where's my car?" Dean walked into the empty spot. "This is where we parked the car, right?"

"I thought so," Sam said, to which Persie nodded in agreement.

"Where's my car?" Dean asked again. Persie watched as a small vein on the side of his head popped in the midst of his stress.

"Uh, did you feed the meter?" She asked.

He whirled around at her with horror in his eyes. "Did I- yes, I fed the meter!" Dean exclaimed. He turned to his brother in his disarray. "Sam, where's my car? Somebody stole my car!"D

Dean stormed onto the sidewalk, fury radiating all around him. Persie recoiled back at the man, never having seen him so enraged before.

It seemed like Sam had the same thoughts when they looked at each other in disbelief.

When it looked like Dean was going to find someone just to beat the sense out of them for his own comfort, Sam tried to calm his brother down. "Hey, hey, hey, hey, calm down, Dean-"

"I am calmed down!" Dean yelled. Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to Persie, who was still looking at the eldest Winchester in shock. "Somebody stole my ca-"

Her eyebrows furrowed as she watched Dean bend down suddenly, his hands braced on his knees, only to start hyperventilating.

"The '67 Impala?" A voice called, and they turned to see a young woman walking up to them in an expensive leather trench coat and slacks. "Was that yours?"

Persie narrowed her eyes. "And who are you, exactly?"

The woman looked at her up and down. "Nice clearance clothing, darling. You might want to try a little harder next time."

"Uh, what?" Persie shook her head, looking to the Winchesters who were glaring down at the woman with clear fury. "Is she a friend of yours?"

"Bela," Sam growled.

The woman, Bela, titled her head with mock sorrow. "I'm sorry, I had that car towed."

"You what?!" Dean yelled, before trying to lunge at her. Sam, the ever-dutiful younger brother, held him back so he didn't do anything too stupid in his rage.

"Well, it was in a tow-away zone."

"No, it wasn't!"

She smirked. "It was when I finished with it."

Dean paused, shaking his brother off his back. "What the hell are you even doing here?"

She shrugged, looking around, before turning back to the Winchesters with a smile. "A little yachting."

Persie rolled her eyes.

"You're Alex," Sam stated, narrowing his eyes at Bela. "You're working with that old lady."

"Gert's a dear old friend," Bela said.

"Full offense, but you don't seem the type to have friends," Persie told her, crossing her arms. "What's your play?"

Bela raised a brow at the other female. "There is no play. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform seances so they can commune with their dead cats."

Persie snorted.

"And let me guess, it's all a con, none of its real?" Dean finished.

Bela mock glared at him. "The comfort I provide them is very real."

Persie shook her head as the woman turned to walk away. She only paused when Sam called out to her, "How do you sleep at night?"

Bela turned to glance over her shoulder at them. "On silk sheets, rolling naked in money."

Persie let out a low huff. Of course, someone like that would make money jabs, especially toward her outfit. She looked down at her clothes, pursing her lips. It wasn't like they looked tacky, they just weren't Armani.

So what if she got them at a JCPenny clearance rack? She makes it work.

"Really Sam? I'd expect the attitude from him," she nodded at Dean, before looking back at the younger brother. "But you?"

Sam looked at her in disbelief. "You shot me."

Persie's eyebrows skyrocketed, turning to look at Sam. "She shot you?"

Dean nodded. "She shot him."

Bela rolled her eyes. "I barely grazed you." She looked at Dean as she nodded her head toward Sam. "Cute, but a bit of a drama queen, yeah?"

"You do know what's going around here," Dean called out. "The ghost ship thing, it is real."

She shrugged. "I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved by the way."

Persie scoffed. "It isn't."

Bela's eyes narrowed at Persie. "She didn't know that." She put her hands on her hips. "Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers. Look, just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. And I'd get that car if I were you before they find the arsenal in the trunk."

She could hear the sound of Dean grinding his teeth.

"Ciao!"

Persie sighed as she walked away.

"Can I shoot her?" Dean asked.

She shrugged. "If I don't drown her first."

"No one's shooting or drowning anyone," Sam ordered, before pausing for a moment as the woman disappeared from their sight. "In public."

.

.

.

.

.

"So, are either of you going to tell me about Bela, now?"

They were driving another case of an on-land drowning, after getting the Impala back from where it had been impounded. Luckily, they had gotten it back before anyone realized just how many weapons were in the vehicle.

They were just glad nothing was left out- one of their daggers or knives, especially. They definitely dodged a bullet this time.

"I don't know what we can tell you," Dean said. "She shot Sam and stole something from us and we had to try and get it back. A real cold-hearted bitch, if there is one."

"But you're attracted to her?" She poked, although she felt a familiar green monster poking in at her words.

"Have you seen her?"

Persie sighed. "Yep."

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. One day he was going to really regret something he said, and Persie wasn't going to go along with it. His brother was in a little over his head with this one.

"Her personality kills it, though," Sam offered, making Persie smile at his words.

"Good for you, Sam. Personality matters," she voiced.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, if she also has nice boobs and an ass to match."

She leaned forward and smacked him on the back of his head. "Shuddup, Dean."

His eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock. "What did I do?"

They pulled up to the home of the victim's brother, where Persie hopped out of the car before it was even put into park. Dean looked back at her leaving figure in a hopeless confusion.

"What is that all about?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I don't think it's about anything you did, Dean," he admitted. "I think it's all about what you said."

When Sam jumped out to follow after Persie, Dean shook his head to himself. "What did I even say?" he mumbled, before getting out of the car. "Women. Can't live with 'em."

When Dean caught up to them, he noticed that they were watching as Bela, posed as a reporter, was questioning a man who had dark circles underneath his eyes. Rolling their eyes, they walked over to her, Dean grabbing her arm while Sam and Persie held up their badges.

"Ma'am, I think this man's been through enough," Dean scolded, pulling her arm and tape recorder from the man's face.

"You really need to go, before you start to get into any legal trouble," Persie added.

"But I just have a few more questions," she pleaded, though she was glaring at them with scathing fury.

Sam glared back. "Oh, no you don't."

She looked between the three of them and looked to be weighing her options, which Persie was sure she had very few of. Bela turned to the man, Peter, and smiled softly. "Thank you for your time."

Persie ignored the glare Bela cast her way as she left, stomping all the way to her car.

Sam turned to the man. "Sorry you had to deal with that."

Dean added, "They're like roaches."

Persie nodded in her agreement, smiling at Peter in compassion. "And we just want to let you know that we are so sorry for your loss. And that we're here to help in any way we can."

Sam and Dean shared a look, noticing how Peter looked at her with widening eyes. "Uh… thank you-"

"So, uh, we heard you say your brother saw a ship," Sam cut in, guiding him toward the house as he directed the conversation.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, that's right."

"Did he tell you what it looked like?" Persie asked, walking up alongside them.

Peter's eyes softened as he looked at her next to him, but stopped walking as he took a moment to go back in thought. "It was… uh, like the old Yankee clippers. A smuggling vessel with a rakish topsail, a Barkentine rigging, angel figurehead on the bow…"

Sam's eyes widened, but noted down the information. "That's a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw," he commented.

"My brother and I were night driving," Peter said. "I saw the ship, too."

Persie looked at him with a frown. "Thank you for letting us know."

Sam nudged Dean, and nodded toward two police officers, where Bela was standing with a ways down the street, often glancing in their direction a few times.

Persie pursed her lips at the sight, giving Bela a nasty look when Peter's head had ducked away in sheepishness.

Dean grabbed her arm as Sam started to back away. "Uh, alright, well, we'll be in touch," he said hastily.

"Thank you," Dean added over his shoulder as he dragged Persie with him in the opposite direction of the cops.

"Take care!" she called, waving over at Peter, who waved back.