AN: Hello there! I feel like I usually have more to say, I'm just trying to get back into the swing of things, so no announcements really. Last week wasn't great so I just couldn't get it done, but hopefully it'll be a bit smoother from here on out. Without further ado, enjoy!
Addendum
(n.)
A thing to be added; an addition.
Chapter Twelve
Scarecrow
aka
All You Lonely Sons & Daughters
Burkitsville, Indiana: April 2018
"Sam, is that you?" In this moment, he doesn't know if his father's voice comforting or foreboding, only that it is shocking, like he's on the verge of sleep and a hypnic jerk has startled him back into wakefulness.
"Dad," he says, sitting up. Elena stops typing, looking at him, eyes wide.
He stares back at her. "Are you hurt?" he asks, because it's the best possible answer, as terrible as it is. It's the only excuse Sam can think of.
"I'm fine."
"We've been looking everywhere for you," Sam says. "We didn't know where you were, if you were okay."
"Sammy, I'm all right."
Elena seems to come to, shaking herself. She jumps up from her chair, hurrying over to the other bed to shake Dean awake.
"What about you all? Elena giving you hell?"
Sam can't quite believe that his dad wants to chit-chat, but he still snorts at his second question.
"No, I think she's saving it all for you."
His dad chuckles, and it's strange how clearly fond he is of the girl who purportedly does give him absolute hell.
"We're fine," Sam says, remembering his first question. "Dad, where are you?"
By now, Dean is wide awake, and he and Elena are sitting side by side on the bed, both staring at Sam like he's about to tell them the answers to the universe.
"Sorry kiddo, I can't tell you that."
Frustration surges up into Sam's throat. "What? Why not?"
"Look, I know this har for you to understand. You're just gonna have to trust me on this."
Sam exhales furiously, but just as suddenly realization hits him. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom."
There's dead silence for a moment, but then his father answers him. "Yeah. It's a demon, Sam."
"A demon?" Sam asks. "You know for sure?"
Dean looks ready to leap out of bed into action. Elena's face is still as porcelain, but for once Sam doesn't have any interest in wondering what's going on under the surface. All he can think about is being where his father is.
"A demon? What's he saying?" Dean asks.
"I do," is his dad's answer. "Listen, Sammy, I, uh," he pauses, the next words seem to come out of him painfully. "I also know what happened to your girlfriend."
The world seems to slow down, Sam barely registers Dean putting on a shirt.
"I'm so sorry. I would've done anything to protect you from that."
It feels like wading through the dark, grasping at anything to pull him out of this hole.
"You know where it is?"
"Yeah, I think I'm finally closing in on it."
"Let us help," Sam says insistently.
"You can't, you can't be any part of it."
"Why not?" Sam asks.
"Give me the phone," Dean interrupts, his patience running out. Elena gives him a look that he steadfastly ignores.
Sam brings it full circle and ignores Dean's grabby hands.
"Listen, Sammy, that's why I'm calling. You need to stop looking for me, all of you." Before Sam even has a chance to digest this, his dad barrels on. "Right, now I need you to write down these names."
Sam is incredulous. "Names? What names? Dad, talk to me, tell me what's going on."
His dad sounds impatient. "Look, we don't have time for this. This is bigger than you think. They're everywhere. Even us talking right now, it's not safe."
"No, all right." Sam's words come out firm, but he's practically shaking with emotion. He shakes his head. "No way."
"Give me the phone," Dean says, his tone more demanding and urgent.
"I've given you an order," his father's voice is cold through the phone. "Now you stop following me, and you do your job. You understand me? Now take down these names."
Sam can barely hold himself together, but Dean doesn't seem to notice or care, he just takes the phone from him.
"Dad, it's me, where are you?"
Elena reaches out, grasps Sam's wrist, ignoring the snarl on his face. He lets her, because he can't think of anything else to do.
Dean is silent, but Sam watches his face as he processes the information, and how his body language changes.
"Yes, sir. Yeah, I got a pen." He grabs one from the bedside table, hand poised over the crappy motel stationary, ever the obedient child. "What are the names?"
For a moment there is only the scratch of Dean's pen and the slight weight of Elena's hand wrapped around Sam's wrist.
After a moment, Dean puts down the pen, straightens up and hands the phone to Elena. She doesn't look at Sam when she lets go of his wrist, just gets up from her place next to Dean and crosses the room to the bathroom, effectively shutting them out.
"John?"
"..."
"They can't hear me, I'm in the bathroom."
"..."
"Did you get my messages? About St. Louis?"
"..."
"I mean, I guess I know it had to have something to do with that but…"
"..."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
"..."
"No, they weren't there when it happened."
"..."
"If you're asking if I'm being followed, no, I don't think so."
"..."
"We can't do this forever."
"…"
"No, it's okay, I understand. I know you need to do this."
"..."
"I know. I just, I hate lying to him."
"..."
"I know you're right. I still feel shitty about it."
"..."
"Sir, yes, sir."
"..."
"I will."
"..."
"John, wait."
"..."
"What do I do if I do see something?"
"..."
"You mean – ?"
"..."
"Right, you're right. I hope it doesn't come to that."
"..."
"I will, bye."
"All right, so the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?" Sam's tone is terse, but he can't be bothered to hide his agitation.
It's night and he's driving, Dean in the front seat and Elena dozing in the back. She hadn't said a thing to them when she came out of the bathroom, just handed Dean his phone and started packing. It's like she hadn't left the room just to have a private conversation with John.
"Three different couples, all went missing," Dean confirms, map in hand.
"And they're all from different towns, different states?"
"That's right, Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a roadtrip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination. None of them were ever heard from again."
Sam can't help his snide, careless response. "Well it's a big country, Dean. They could've disappeared anywhere."
"Yeah, they could've," Dean says agreeably, steadfastly ignoring Sam's irritation. "But each one's route took 'em through the same part of Indiana, always on the second week in April." He looks up from the map to look at Sam. "One year after another after another."
Sam points out the obvious. "This is the second week of April."
Dean nods. "Yup."
Sam inhales. "So Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?"
Dean points at him. "Yahtzee." He shakes his head, staring at the map. "Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this?"
He's clearly in awe, and it rubs Sam the wrong way.
"The different obits Dad had to go through – the man's a master."
And that's it, that's all it takes, Sam has had enough. Without a word, he pulls the car over to the side of the road, not at all smoothly, jostling Elena in the backseat, startling her awake.
"What's going on?" she asks, blinking blearily as she leans over the front seat.
"What are you doing?" is Dean's question.
Sam turns off the engine. "We're not going to Indiana," he says this like it's a definitive statement.
"What?" Elena asks.
Dean's eyes narrow. "We're not?"
"No, we're going to California." Sam finally looks at his brother. "Dad called from a payphone-"
"Those still exist?" Elena cuts in.
Sam gives her a look. "Barely, which is why it was easy to track. It had a Sacramento area code."
"Sam." Dean's voice is flat.
"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we gotta be there. We gotta help."
Dean shakes his head. "Dad doesn't want our help," he says bluntly.
"Well, I don't care."
Dean stares at him in disbelief. "He's given us an order."
Sam stares back defiantly. "I. Don't. Care."
Dean looks at him like he's insane.
"We don't always have to do what he says."
"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, to save lives, it's important."
Sam turns back to Elena, who's been suspiciously silent this whole time.
"What do you think?" he all but demands of her.
She looks back at him, not a hint of emotion on her face.
"I can't go back to California," she says carefully.
He blinks. "What?"
"It's only been a few months since we were there-"
"Five," Sam interrupts to say. "It's been five months."
She nods. "That's not long enough, Sam. I have to keep moving, no discernable patterns."
Dean gestures at her, looking at Sam. "Well, it's settled. I'm not putting Elena in danger, Sam."
He stares at her. He knows there's a bigger picture here, but he hates that he doesn't know. He can't stop thinking about her going into the bathroom with Dean's phone, shutting them out of her conversation with their dad.
"All right, I understand." He gets out of the car before either of them can take it the wrong way. He won't put Elena in danger, but he's definitely not gonna wait around until she decides it's been long enough for it to be safe for her to go back to California.
Dean follows him out of the car.
"What the hell, Sam?"
He ignores him to open the trunk and get his stuff.
"I have to do this, Dean," he says, sounding more angry than pleading. "It'll only be a week, to get answers – to get revenge."
"I understand how you feel, Sam-"
Sam cuts him off. "Do you?"
Dean stares at him.
"How old were you when Mom died, four? Jess died five months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?"
Dean appears unphased by his vitriol.
"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."
Sam seethes. "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."
"Enough, you guys," Elena says.
Sam didn't even notice her get out of the car, but there she is, quietly waiting behind Dean's left shoulder, looking tense and tired.
Somehow, for the first time, she makes him angrier.
"What the hell did you guys even talk about? What else did he tell you?"
Dean moves protectively in front of her, but Elena answers anyway, dodging around him to stare Sam down.
"Me." Her tone is flat. "We talked about me and my situation. I don't think he said a single thing about himself, except that he was sorry that he couldn't be here to protect me, so I don't think that really counts."
She can see the twitching in Sam's jaw, but she still can't help what she says next.
"And he asked me to look out for both of you, too. So I guess I can't stop you leaving, but, he wanted us all to look out for each other."
Sam ignores her, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder.
Dean draws her back, closer to him, glaring at Sam.
"You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. You don't care what anyone thinks-"
Elena cuts him off.
"Enough. Just let him go, Dean."
He looks at her. She returns his look, and Sam has never hated their silent conversations more.
Dean finally looks at him. "Whatever. We have a job to do, c'mon Elena." He marches over to the driver's side, sliding in and slamming the door behind him.
Elena stays only for a moment. "Call me if you change your mind, I'll make him turn the car around if I have to." With that she slips into the front seat of the car, shutting the door behind her far too quietly.
Sam hates that she's still being nice to him. He watches them drive away before he starts in the other direction.
In the Impala, Elena slides over until she's sitting in the middle of the bench, right next to Dean. She puts her head on his shoulder, and she doesn't say a word.
He reaches out to take one of her hands, lacing their fingers together. He's quiet for a little while.
"Why didn't you tell me about not going back to places you've been before?" he asks finally.
She lifts her head to look at him.
"We've never done that before," she says honestly.
He nods reluctantly like it's a satisfactory answer, and she wants to give him more.
"I would've," she offers seriously. "If we ever were about to go back somewhere too soon, I would've told you, I promise."
He keeps his eyes on the road, but he nods and squeezes her hand. She puts her head back on his shoulder.
"He'll come back," she tells him.
He doesn't reply. He wants to believe her, but Sam's left before. Dean's not one for sitting around and hoping.
Elena pretends not to notice Dean checking his phone before he opens the car door for her. They're in Burkitsville, both of them sleep deprived and more than a little grumpy.
She figures if Dean wants to pretend that he isn't waiting for Sam to call and say he's made a mistake, she can go along with it.
She can feel curious eyes on them as they cross the street, but she doesn't bother looking back. It's Small Town, U.S.A., that's what they do here, stare at strangers and gossip about their neighbors.
"'Scotty's Café'," Elena reads aloud. "Sounds cute."
"I don't care how cute it is, we just need information."
Elena rolls her eyes, nudging Dean's shoulder with her own.
"Okay, cranky, let's go find someone to chat up."
He narrows his eyes at her but she just smiles at him until he returns the gesture. He rolls his eyes, still smiling, and swings his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side.
"Don't be cute with me," he mutters.
She shrugs, comforted by the warmth of him.
"Can't be helped, I am what I am."
They're coming up on the café, and the man sitting underneath the sign, so Dean gives her squeeze and lets her go.
"Let me guess, Scotty?" Dean asks.
The man looks at the two of them, then up at the sign.
"I certainly am."
"Hi, my name is John Bonham-"
Scotty cuts him off before he can introduce Elena.
"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" he asks dryly.
Elena barely purses her lips, but Dean still knows she's holding in a laugh.
"Wow," he says, taken aback. "Good. Classic Rock fan."
Elena tosses her hair, catching Scotty's attention. She smiles sweetly.
"Ignore him, he's not used to people actually understanding his little jokes." She gestures to him. "This is Glenn, I'm Dawn."
Scotty nods. "Pleased to meet you, Miss." He eyes Dean. "What can I do for you, John?"
Elena smirks at Dean who gives her an annoyed look, pulling out two folded up Missing posters from his pocket.
"Have you seen any of these people, by chance?" he asks, handing the papers over.
Scotty gives them a cursory glance. He shakes his head definitively. "Nope. Who are they?"
"Friends of ours," Elena answers.
Dean nods. "They went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here. We've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem."
"Sorry," Scotty says, his tone curt, handing back the missing posters. "We don't get many strangers around here."
Elena smiles at him, forcing him to smile back. "Thank you for your time, have a nice day, all right?"
With that, the two of them move on.
Dean leans in close. "Laying it on a little thick?"
She shrugs. "He had terrible manners, it got on my nerves."
He rolls his eyes, swings his arm back around her shoulders. "You are so Southern."
"Yes I am," she says primly.
"Glenn and Dawn?" he questions. "Those are a little boring, don't you think?"
She shakes her head. "Next time I'll be Lindsey Buckingham and you can be Steve Walsh."
He laughs a little, but can't resist checking his phone. His face darkens. They continue down the sidewalk.
Elena slips her arm around his waist.
"He'll call," she says simply. "And next time, Sam can be…"
He shoves his phone back in his pocket, and finishes her sentence for her. "Next time, Sam can be Yoko."
Elena stops, forcing Dean to stop too.
He looks down at her. "What?"
She shakes her head. "Nothing, I'm just picturing Sam introducing himself as Yoko Ono," she says seriously.
Dean stares at her incredulously. Then he laughs so hard he almost pitches both of them over. Elena giggles helplessly, clinging to him and desperately trying to regain their balance. At the back of her mind she counts it as a win.
So nearly tripping over a girl on the side of the road isn't exactly Sam's finest moment. It's still nice to have someone to talk to for the two seconds it lasts before she gets a ride and he doesn't.
There's shitty cell reception out this way, so it's not like he can just take an Uber. Hitchhiking appeals to him in a way, so he doesn't really mind.
"You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?" Dean asks.
The older woman shakes her head after looking at the Missing posters, so the older man brings them back over to Dean and Elena at the counter of the gas station.
"Nope, don't remember them. You said they were friends of yours?"
Elena nods. "That's right."
From the other side of the store, a young blonde girl carrying a box pipes up.
"Did the guy have a tattoo?" she asks them.
"Yes he did," Dean answers.
She puts her box down on the counter and comes over to look at the pictures. She nods her head, looking up at the man.
"You remember? They were just married," she reminds him.
He pauses for a moment, looking at them again.
Dean watches him through narrowed eyes as he nods his head.
"You're right. They did stop for gas." He looks up at Dean. "Weren't here for more than 10 minutes."
"Do you remember anything else?" Elena asks.
"Well, I told them how to get back to the Interstate? Phones don't work so well around here. They left town."
Dean nods. "Could you point us in that same direction?" Dean asks.
"Sure."
They're driving down a particularly desolate stretch of road when Dean's EMF reader starts going off in his bag.
"What the hell?" he asks to no one in particular.
Elena leans back over the seat to grab it.
It's going off like crazy, so he pulls over to the side of the road.
Miraculously, seemingly out of nowhere, there is an apple orchard right in front of them.
"I guess we're going apple picking?" Elena says archly.
Dean snorts. "I guess."
The orchard itself is full of fog and completely deserted.
Elena only needs to look at Dean to convey her feelings about disobeying horror movie survival guides.
It's strange to be without Sam for many reasons, but Elena is becoming increasingly aware of how often she says things out loud purely for his benefit. She never has to say much for Dean to understand her.
Everywhere around them are abandoned baskets and ladders, rotting apples to dodge. Eventually Dean spots a scarecrow.
They approach him, circling around to his front. Scythe in hand, he is the stuff of nightmares.
"Dude, you are fugly," Dean says in order to lighten the mood.
Elena looks over at him thoughtfully. "I can't remember the last time I heard someone say that word."
He shrugs. "It was before your time," he says jokingly.
She rolls her eyes, unphased by his old man routine. He's only 6 years older than her, he just acts like he's 40.
There is something unsettling about this scarecrow. His skin looks more like leather than burlap, and there is something far too accurate about his form, more than just straw-stuffed into an old faded shirt, the structure too much like a ribcage, a collarbone, the human skeletal system somehow present in this normally crudely made creation.
Dean narrows his eyes, zeroing in on the exposed arm. He goes over to grab one of the abandoned ladders.
Elena stays put, secure in the knowledge that she doesn't want a closer look.
Dean climbs his way up to face the scarecrow, pulling out the missing posters, he matches the tattoo on the guy's arm to the one on this scarecrow.
"Nice tat," he say to the scarecrow.
Elena sighs in the background. "Of fucking course."
When they pull back up to the gas station, the helpful young girl from earlier is already out front.
She's smiles at them as they exit the car.
"You're back."
Dean shakes his head. "We never left."
"Still looking for your friends?" she asks sympathetically.
Elena nods.
"You mind filling her up, there, Emily?" Dean asks, indicating to the car.
She nods eagerly, clearly enjoying talking to these strangers, unlike the rest of her town. She hurries over to put the pump in. It's so strangely old-fashioned, having a gas station attendant pump their gas. A real throwback, like the town hasn't changed since the 50s.
"So did you grow up here?" Elena asks, easily taking the lead. "I'm from a small town down South," she adds conversationally.
Emily smiles, shakes her head.
"I came here when I was 13. I lost my parents – car accident."
Elena stills, then tilts her head to the side, her face full of aching empathy that makes Dean move closer, tucking an arm around her.
"I'm so sorry, I lost mine the same way when I was 16."
The two girls share a sad smile of recognition.
"My aunt and uncle took me in."
It could be either girl who said it, but something about hearing it from the younger girl – the one he doesn't know better than anyone in the world – makes something inside of Dean ache in a terrible way. Maybe it's because he knows how the next part of Elena's story goes, and this girl can't be that much older than Elena was when she lost her aunt and uncle.
Elena nods. "Sounds familiar."
Dean chimes in before Emily can ask about them.
"They're nice people, your aunt and uncle."
Emily nods. "Everybody's nice here."
"So, what, it's the perfect little town?" Dean asks.
Elena gives him a look. "He's very skeptical of small towns."
He shakes his head. "Can't be, you're from one." The kind of town she's from goes unsaid. What Dean knows about Mystic Falls, Virginia is pretty fucking awful. What he doesn't know is worse.
Emily smiles at them like they're the cutest thing she's ever seen.
"You know, it's the boonies, but I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their farms, it's a struggle every day…but here? It's almost like we're blessed."
Dean nods, absorbing the information.
"Hey, have you been out to the orchard?" he asks as casually as he can. "Seen that scarecrow?"
She nods. "Yeah, it creeps me out."
Elena nods in fervent agreement.
Dean chuckles his agreement. "Whose is it?"
She shakes her head. "I don't know. It's just always been there."
Dean nods towards the SUV behind her.
"That your aunt and uncle's?"
"Customer," she answers. "They had some car troubles."
"It's not a couple, is it?" Elena asks. "A guy and a girl?"
She's aware that she and Dean fit the profile too, but that isn't her main concern at this exact moment.
Emily nods.
Dean and Elena exchange a look.
After basically walking the entire way to the bus station, Sam gets the delightful news that he has over 24 hours before a bus to Sacramento even runs again.
He's considering calling Dean – or the slightly safer option of calling Elena – when he hears the familiar voice of the girl he almost trampled.
Suddenly being stuck in a bus station for a day doesn't seem like the end of the world.
He's pleasantly surprised to discover that she's going to California too. She finally introduces herself as Meg.
"We're famous for our apples," Scotty tells the couple eagerly.
Dean and Elena are just walking through the door when he says that.
"He is so much nicer to them than he was to us," Dean says, shaking his head.
Elena nods. "It's freaky."
"It's kinda pissing me off," he admits. "What do they have that we don't?"
Elena goes for the blunt response. "A sex life?"
He briefly chokes on his own saliva. He stares at her like a deer in headlights.
She shrugs. "What? you asked."
He points vaguely at Scotty.
"He doesn't know that," he says, carefully not thinking about Elena as anything but his partner.
Elena considers this thoughtfully. "Well, we did show up asking questions, maybe we're just too nosy." She looks at Dean. "Shouldn't we be glad that we aren't being targeted?"
Dean shrugs. "It'd probably be easier if it was us," he points out. "Those people wouldn't potentially be in danger."
She makes a face but nods her agreement.
They take a seat right next to the couple. They're making noises about the pie, so Dean orders some pie to go with their coffee.
Dean meanwhile, sees this as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with the unsuspecting couple.
"How are you doing? Just passing through?" he asks.
The girl smiles in blissful ignorance.
"Road trip," she says cheerily.
Elena grins. "So fun!"
"What about you?" the girl asks.
Elena nods. "Oh, same. Just a little road trip."
Scotty comes back to refill their glasses. He glares at Dean and Elena.
"I'm sure these people want to eat in peace."
Elena gives him her sweetest smile.
"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean adds, keeping his tone friendly. "Don't forget the pie," he calls after Scotty as he stalks off.
"So what brings you to town?" Dean asks them.
"We just stopped for gas," she says, clearly the chattier of the two. "The guy at the gas station saved our lives."
Dean and Elena exchange a glance.
"Is that right?"
The guy pipes up. "Yeah, one of brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He's fixing it for us."
"Nice people," Dean says vaguely, slightly disturbed at how deep this whole plot seems to go.
He nods. "Yeah."
"So, how long 'til you're up and running?" Dean asks.
"Sundown," is his reply.
"Really?" Dean leans in close. "To fix a brake line?" he asks.
The guy nods like that isn't at all suspicious.
Elena puts her hand on Dean's shoulder. "He's really good with cars."
He nods. "I could probably have you up and running in about an hour, wouldn't charge you anything."
They consider it. "You know, thanks a lot, we'd rather have a mechanic do it."
"Sure." He nods.
"You feel comfortable driving at night when there's basically no service?" Elena asks.
They both look at her, trepidation finally leaking into their open, eager faces.
She shrugs delicately and Dean wonders if now is an appropriate time to propose marriage. She's so fucking good, it blows his mind every time.
"I mean, anything can happen at night, I wouldn't feel safe."
Dean props his arm along the back of her chair, squeezing her shoulder lightly. She tosses him a side glance, her lip twitching up on one side.
"It should be fine," the guy says uneasily.
And that's right when the Sheriff walks in.
Elena rolls her eyes, glancing over at Dean.
"You know, before you, I had never been arrested in my life, not even questioned by the police in any official capacity."
He shrugs. "I make your life interesting. 'Sides, you knew every fucking cop in that town. Who was gonna question the town doctor's sweet little girl?"
She rolls her eyes.
"This is what we get for asking questions, if we'd just played it differently they'd be stuffing us full of apple pie and sending us off to our doom instead."
Dean laughs just as the Sheriff approaches them.
Elena blinks long eyelashes at him. "Howdy officer, what can we do for you?"
It takes him a moment to remember his task. "I'd like a word."
She leans forward, watches the way he leans away, like getting too close to her is something that terrifies him.
"What about?" she asks.
He stares at her.
Scotty clears his throat loudly, snapping him out of it.
Elena sighs, shrugs her shoulders. "Well, it doesn't work on everyone."
So they get a police escort out of town, it's still probably one of their least dramatic exits, all things considered.
The second they hit the town limit, the Sheriff makes a U-turn back into town.
Elena shakes her head, looking over at Dean in the driver's seat.
"That's just sloppy."
He nods in agreement. "It's like they're begging us to come back."
They share a grin.
"You know what sucks?" he asks after a moment.
"You didn't even get your pie?" she responds knowingly.
He taps the steering wheel twice firmly. "I didn't even get my damn pie."
She shakes her head. "Terrible service."
He nods seriously. "You're tellin' me."
"You wanna go get a burger?"
"Sounds like a plan, we've got some time to kill before sundown."
Sam and Meg share a meal and talk about their lives. Sam is surprised at how much he can relate to Meg's life story. Overbearing family, a need to make their own way, it's all so familiar that he can't help but feel a kinship to this stranger.
Her story makes him feel vindicated, like he made the right choice to get out of the car and head back to California, leaving Dean and Elena to do the job while he tracks down his dad.
It's just after sundown when they drive back into town, headed straight for the apple orchard.
The nice young couple is running so blind with terror that they almost run directly into Elena and Dean.
"Get back to your car," Dean orders them.
Their delightful scarecrow friend is closing in on them.
"That wasn't a suggestion," Elena says dryly. "Go!"
They take off at a run as Dean raises his shotgun to fire at the advancing menace. He fires multiple times into his chest but it seems to have no effect on the scarecrow. He just continues advancing, forcing Elena and Dean to run as well. Elena shoots him in the leg to no avail.
They burst out of the orchard, stopping in front of the Impala, turning back to look for their assailant. Dean and Elena both wait, guns at the ready.
The scarecrow is nowhere in sight.
"What the hell was that?" the guy asks.
"Don't ask," Dean says bluntly.
"The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" Sam asks incredulously.
He's still in the bus terminal, Meg asleep across the room while Sam listens to Dean and Elena recount their nightmarish adventures with mounting horror. He's on speaker phone, so he can hear both of them and the hum of the Impala's engine in the background.
"Yeah, I'm telling you, Burkitsville, Indiana, fun town!" Dean says dryly.
Elena snorts in agreement. "Yes, a lovely place to stop for some pie and death by scarecrow."
"It didn't kill the couple, did it?" Sam asks.
Dean rolls his eyes and Sam can practically hear it through the phone. "No, we can do our job without you, you know?"
"So something must be animating it," Sam says, unable to keep from wondering. It's too interesting of a case. "A spirit."
"No," Dean disagrees. "It's more than a spirit. It's a god – a Pagan God, anyway."
"What makes you say that?" Sam asks.
"The annual cycle of its killings, and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman, like some kind of fertility rite."
"It's a sacrifice," Elena says. There is something in her voice that gives Sam pause.
"You should see the locals," Dean says before Sam can wonder anymore. "The way they treated this couple – fattening up like a Christmas turkey."
Sam considers this. "Why weren't they interested in you and Elena, I mean, didn't you guys show up first? You fit the profile, at least by all appearances."
"Yeah, we know," Dean replies. "Elena thinks it's because we were asking questions, we spooked 'em."
Sam nods even though they can't see him. "Makes sense, I guess. They want unsuspecting victims."
"Yeah, like Elena said, it's probably a ritual sacrifice to appease some Pagan God."
"So a god possesses the scarecrow…" Sam starts.
"And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice," Dean finishes for him. "And for another year, the crops won't wilt and disease won't spread."
Elena is noticeably silent.
"You know which god you're dealing with?" Sam asks.
"Nope, not yet," Dean replies.
"Well, you figure out what it is, you can figure out a way to kill it."
"I know, we're actually on our way to a local community college. We have an appointment with a professor." Dean pauses. "You know, since we don't have our trusty sidekick, Geek Boy, to do all the research."
Sam snorts. "What about Elena?"
"Elena's way too cool to be a sidekick, Sam."
"Thank you," Elena says, sounding perfectly normal, nothing strange in her tone.
"Well, if you need my help, all you have to do is ask."
"We're fine," Dean says bluntly. Then he sighs. "Actually, I want you to know…I mean- don't think…"
"I think he's trying to apologize," Elena offers. Dean gives her a glare full of affection.
Sam snorts. "I'm sorry too," He says. "To both of you," he adds, remembering shamefully how he'd exploded all over Elena about her own private matters.
"I was never mad," Elena says sweetly. "No need to apologize."
"Nah, you really did need to apologize to her, you were a dick."
Sam chuckles a bit. "Yeah, I know, I really was, and I'm sorry, Elena."
Dean can tell that Elena doesn't think he has anything to be sorry for, but she allows it, if only to make Sam feel better.
"Apology accepted," she says graciously.
Dean takes a page out of Elena's book and decides to be the bigger person.
"Sam, you were right, you gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."
Sam finds himself smiling. "You serious?" he asks, because it feels too good to be true.
"You've always known what you want, and you go after it. You stand up to Dad." Dean pauses, too afraid to look over at Elena because then he might stop talking, and he wants to give his brother this.
"I mean, you always have." He pauses again, so careful not to look at her. "Hell, I wish I…" he trails off. "Anyway," he starts again, not willing to go there. "I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."
"I don't even know what to say," Sam replies honestly.
"Say you'll take care of yourself."
"I will."
"Call us when you find Dad."
"Okay. Bye Dean, bye Elena."
"Bye Sam," Elena says. The line goes dead.
For a moment, Sam stews in it. He's known since St. Louis that their father told Dean to stay away from Elena, but if he's reading between the lines correctly, his brother, the perfect son, the diligent soldier, hates it. He hopes that Elena heard it too, because someone in that relationship needs to be brave enough to ignore John Winchester's orders.
Meg wakes up then and comes back over to talk some more.
Back in the Impala, Elena takes Dean's hand, careful not to look at him, but unable to resist touching him. She ignores everything he didn't say, because he didn't say it, so she can pretend she didn't understand him perfectly like she always does.
"That was a nice thing to do for him," Elena says instead.
He squeezes her hand.
"It's not every day I get a research question on Pagan idolatry." The professor sounds very pleased, if not a bit curious.
Dean just shrugs noncommittally and lets Elena do her thing.
She smiles at the professor, her teeth practically sparkling like a toothpaste commercial.
"I hope you can help us."
"You said you're interested in local lore?"
Elena nods her pretty head.
"I'm afraid Indiana isn't really known for its pagan worship."
She cocks her head to the side.
"America isn't known as a melting pot of cultures for nothing," she reminds him primly.
He chuckles, impressed by her rebuttal. "Touché, young lady."
Dean pipes up. "Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?"
The professor and Elena both laugh at that.
"It was all settled by immigrants," he says with no small amount of academic arrogance.
Dean resists rolling his eyes, nodding his head instead. He forges on, "Like that town near here, Burkitsville – where are their ancestors from?"
The professor is quiet before answering. "Northern Europe, I believe. Scandinavia."
"What could you tell us about those Pagan Gods?"
He chuckles. "Well there are hundreds of Norse Gods and Goddesses."
"What about fertility gods?" Elena asks.
"One who might live in an orchard?" Dean adds.
In his office, he brings out a giant leather bound book.
"A woods god," he tells them absentmindedly as he puts on his glasses. "Well, let's see," he says, flipping through the pages.
Dean stops him at an illustration that is eerily reminiscent of a scarecrow.
"Wait, what's that one?" he asks.
"That's not a woods god, per say."
"The Vanir?" Elena asks, looking to him for correct pronunciation.
He nods.
She continues reading aloud. "Vanir were Norse Gods of protection and fertility, keeping the local settlements from harm. Villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice, one male and one female."
Dean looks over at the professor. "Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?"
He shifts. "Well, I suppose."
Elena goes back to reading aloud. "This particular Vanir, its energy sprung from a sacred tree." She pauses to look at the professor questioningly.
"Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic," he says rather strangely.
"So, what would happen if the sacred tree was torched?" Dean asks. "Do you think it'd kill the god?"
The professor laughs in disbelief. "Son, these are just legends we're discussing here."
"Oh, of course," Dean says.
"I have to go to the bathroom," Elena says, interrupting them with delicate ease.
He nods. "Down the hall, on the left," he says graciously.
"Thank you," she says primly.
She gives Dean a significant look before she departs.
Elena has been gone for too long, so Dean finally speaks up, his unease clear.
"You know, I think that's all, I'm just gonna go wait find her. Thank you very much for humoring us." He starts for the door.
The professor nods. "Glad I could help."
Dean receives a rifle butt to the face from the sheriff just as he opens the door.
"You get the girl?" The professor asks calmly. "She was headed for the bathroom."
He nods. "Deputy's got her."
Dean wakes up to the sound of Elena hyperventilating. It is pitch black, and for a moment he assumes it must be like any other night, she's had a nightmare, and she's trying not to wake him up. He's reaching out for her before he realizes that they're not in bed, and his entire skull aches like he's been hit in the face with a bat – or the butt of a rifle.
He suddenly remembers what happened: the professor's office, Elena going to the bathroom and being gone for far too long, the sudden reappearance of the sheriff, a split second of pain before it all went black.
"Elena?" he asks, his voice hoarse.
She sucks in a breath, crawling over to him in the dark. She's shaking all over.
"You all right?" he asks, cupping her face in his hands.
She can't stop shaking enough to speak, or even nod. She just burrows closer to him. He wraps his arms around her, feeling her heartbeat in her chest like a hummingbird. He presses her close, trying desperately to calm her down, while not really understanding the intensity of her terror. As bad as it is, it's not the worst situation they've ever been in, but Elena's reaction is worse than every post-nightmare panic attack combined.
He can smell dirt all around them, so he has some kind of idea that they're underground, maybe in a basement or a cellar.
"Shhh, Elena, shh, I'm here, we're gonna be okay, we're gonna get out of this." He mutters to her nonsensically, rocking her back and forth.
She gasps for air, and finally, after an eternity, she forms a sentence, six words.
"Not you, oh God, not you."
He can't quite figure out what she means, so he just keeps shushing her, rocking back and forth.
After a while, she gives one last shuddering gasp, and then, even quieter. "Not again."
Sam knows something has to be wrong when Elena won't answer her phone either. Dean might blow him off, but Elena wouldn't, the only reasons she wouldn't answer is if she couldn't.
He's surprised at how much effort Meg puts into trying to talk him out of going after them, into trying to convince him to go with her to California.
He's surprised when he says "They're my family," but he knows he means it. Dean is his brother and Elena is closer than any friend he's ever had, so close that she could only be his family too.
Elena has herself pushed so far into the corner that Dean is sure she's going to have bruises. Still, she's stopped visibly shaking, so he doesn't try to coax her out of her corner.
In the dim light her face is as still as stone, smeared with dirt and tears, but utterly still.
She holds his hand, and for that he keeps his peace. He can feel the occasional tremor that goes through her, but she is contained again.
She doesn't look at him.
Dean takes a deep breath. They hadn't been able to find any way out of the cellar, so now they could only wait.
"We just need something to set that tree on fire," he says.
"Which tree?" Elena asks, her voice devoid of emotion. He gets her point though, they don't know which tree is the right tree.
"Probably one in the orchard," he guesses. He waits for her to continue his thought, but she doesn't. She just keeps her eyes fixed on the dirt wall, unblinking. He clears his throat and continues. "The oldest one, most likely."
Above their heads there is a noise, and the cellar door opens, light flooding in.
Dean scrambles up, pulling Elena with him. He can feel her making a concentrated effort to move with him, stumbling into the light.
The townsfolk stare down at them grimly, some of them aiming guns at them.
"It's time," Stacey from the gas station says.
Elena's face seems to be made of stone, and Dean can see that more than one person has to look away. She does not look afraid – though Dean knows she is – she looks fierce.
"How many people have you killed, Sheriff?" Dean asks while they're being tied to separate apple trees. "How much blood is on your hands?"
"We don't kill them," he replies insistently.
Elena laughs and it goes straight through all of them, cutting them down to size.
"No, but you sure cover up after," is Dean's retort. "I mean, how many cars have you hidden? Or clothes have you buried?"
The sheriff rolls his eyes.
"I gotta ask, why you'd let us go that first time? We fit the bill?"
The sheriff shakes his head in disgust. "You were so goddamn nosy." With that, he moves out of Dean's line of sight.
Elena doesn't speak to any of them, Dean isn't even sure if she'd speak to him if they were alone.
Something about her silence compels Stacey to speak.
"The town needs to be saved," she says, somehow feeling beholden to this silent girl. "That's what this sacrifice is for."
Elena scoffs. "Don't tell me about sacrifice." Her voice is chillingly scornful.
Stacey's voice is shaking when she speaks again. "The good of the many outweighs the good of the few."
"This isn't good," Elena says with eerie clarity. "There is no good in this. You are just avoiding a natural part of life. We all suffer, we all persevere, that's the way it is. You're circumnavigating the natural order of things because you somehow think you and this town are so fucking special that you are above it all. You think you shouldn't have to work for it, like the rest of us."
And she doesn't look at her, not even once.
Dean almost wants to smile at how coldly she breaks them down, how perfectly clear she sees through them and all their excuses.
When they start to leave, it's in shameful silence.
"That was fucking brutal," Dean says bluntly.
"I'm right," Elena says calmly.
"Hey, I get that something's going on with you, but I need to know that you're with me, okay, Elena?"
She's quiet for long enough that he's afraid she won't answer.
"I'm with you," she says finally, her voice faint but sure.
"Good, because I don't have anything resembling a plan," he tells her honestly.
She doesn't laugh like he hoped she would.
Hours pass, it starts to get dark out.
"Can you see?" Dean asks. "Is he moving yet?"
He hears her moving about.
"I can't see," she says finally.
They hear footsteps approaching and both tense. There is something strange about the sound, and it takes Dean a moment to realize that it's the sound of more than one person walking.
The culprits come into view.
"Sam?" Dean says at the same time Elena says, "Emily?"
The young blonde girl nods bravely. "I heard my aunt and uncle talking, I had no idea about any of this. I had to wait until they were distracted to leave." She nods to Sam. "Sam found me and explained who he was."
Sam smiles at her gratefully. "She showed me the way to the orchard. I got worried when neither of you were answering your phones."
Sam hurries over to Dean to untie him while Emily does the same to Elena.
"How did you get here?" Dean asks him.
"I, uh, stole a car," Sam admits sheepishly.
Dean laughs in delight. "That's my boy."
Sam rolls his eyes, a fond smile tugging at his mouth.
"Keep an eye on that scarecrow, it could come alive at any minute," Dean instructs him grimly.
"What scarecrow?" Sam asks.
Elena inhales sharply. She pulls her hands free of the tree violently, forcing Emily to step back suddenly and more than likely hurting herself.
She and Dean scramble up to look at the empty cross.
The four of them are running through the orchard.
"All right, now this sacred tree you're talking about?" Sam asks.
He barely sounds winded, and Dean is forced to acknowledge that there is an advantage to letting Elena Gilbert be in charge of your cardio.
Still, he does his best to convey the important information. "It's the source of its power."
"So let's find it and burn it," Sam says logically.
"In the morning," Dean replies. "Let's just shag ass before Leatherface catches up."
A rustling from up ahead brings them to a halt.
The townsfolk are waiting for them, flashlights and guns drawn.
"Emily, come here," Stacey says sternly.
She stares at her aunt and uncle like they're crazy – which they are.
"Absolutely not," she says with conviction. "I can't believe you're doing this. You've killed so many people. I will not be a part of this."
They are surrounded, all they can do is wait.
A noise sounds in the distance, something between a rasp and a cackle.
"Please, let us go," Emily says, hoping against hope that there is still some kind of humanity left in the people who had raised her.
"It will be over quickly," her uncle promises. "And we'll get through this, as a family. With time, you'll come to understand that this is for the best."
Before anyone can respond, a scythe goes through his back, erupting from his chest. Stacey begins screaming, panic ensues. Emily screams and turns into Sam's chest.
The other townsfolk begin to run as the scarecrow grabs ahold of Stacey, who continues to scream.
Amidst the chaos, Elena is perfectly still.
She holds Stacey's gaze. "Rot in hell," she says with malice.
The scarecrow stabs his scythe into Harley's ankle, dragging the two of them away.
"Let's go," Dean says to Elena.
Elena lingers for a moment, seemingly taking a deep satisfaction in watching them be pulled away to their doom.
"Elena," he says harshly, because she is scaring him. She's been scaring him since he woke up in that damn cellar, but this is another beast entirely.
Reluctantly, she lets him yank her away. She allows him to pull her through the orchard and towards the entrance.
Dean keeps them moving, but he can't escape the thought that she would've watched the whole thing if he'd let her.
The next morning they return to the orchard armed with gasoline and a lighter. Emily can't quite look at Elena, after the clear satisfaction that the older girl had taken in watching the scarecrow drag her aunt and uncle to their deaths. At the same time, she can't ignore that they tried to kill both Elena and Dean, so she can't bring herself to hate her for it.
Dean and Sam both find themselves uneasy at Elena's absolute calm in the face of watching two people die in front of them. Dean can't help but compare it to her utter blind panic when they were waiting to be sacrificed themselves.
Elena hasn't said much since she so kindly told Stacey to rot in hell.
All of this makes for a silent search. Eventually they find a gnarled old tree with strange markings on it. Sam begins to pour the gasoline on the tree while Dean finds a branch to use to light it up from a safe distance.
"Let me," Emily says, surprising them all.
"You know the whole town's gonna die?" Dean asks.
Emily thinks of Elena, unflinching in the face of her own cruelty, and all of the girls who have died in that same position before her. All of the men who had died too. She takes the branch from him.
"Good." And she doesn't hesitate when she sets the tree on fire.
Within minutes, the entire tree is aflame. Emily can feel the tears sliding down her face, she is unsure who she is crying for. Her aunt and uncle, the countless people who died because of them and their greed, or for herself, and the lie she believed in for so long.
None of them suggest moving, this, they will watch.
The three of them watch Emily get on a bus. She waves once, and then disappears inside. Soon the bus is backing out of its parking spot, in route to Boston.
"Think she's gonna be all right?" Sam asks.
"I hope so," is Dean's reply.
"And the rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?" Sam asks.
Elena's face twitches into something resembling a snarl but it disappears so quickly Dean wonders if he imagined it.
"What will happen to the town will have to be punishment enough," Dean says.
They head back to the car.
"So, can we drop you have somewhere?" Dean asks.
"No, I think you're stuck with me," Sam replies.
"What made you change your mind?"
Sam shakes his head. "I didn't. I still want to find Dad, and you're still a pain in the ass." He looks at Elena. "And you're still more of a mystery than I'm comfortable with," he says honestly.
If he's hoping for some kind of reaction, he doesn't get one. Elena looks back at him, giving nothing away.
Sam turns back to Dean.
"But Jess and Mom…" he shakes his head. "They're both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, this suspiciously quiet girl who is usually brimming with life." Still no reaction from Elena. "We're all that's left." Sam looks down at his shoes. "So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."
Dean stares at him for a second, then places a hand on his shoulder and says with mock-sincerity. "Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful."
Sam rolls his eyes, batting Dean's hand away.
"Yeah Elena hasn't said anything and I still like her better."
Dean shrugs.
Sam shakes his head. "You should be kissing my ass, you guys were dead meat."
Dean scoffs. "Yeah right, I had a plan. We'd have gotten out."
"Right," Sam says dryly.
They get in the car. Elena climbs into the backseat. Sam and Dean exchange an uneasy glance. They're both troubled by Elena's continued silence, but there seems to be nothing else to do but wait it out.
They're parked out in front of a motel, Dean is at the front office getting them a room. Elena clears her throat and Sam holds his breath, giving her his undivided attention.
"What you said before, about Dean not understanding how you feel because he was so young when your mother died?"
Sam coughs, suddenly uneasy.
Elena continues on like she doesn't notice. "Maybe you're right, but I wasn't too young to know." Her voice is quiet, it rings through him like he's hollow.
"For nearly half a year, I spent every day living in the same town as the person who killed my aunt right in front of me."
Sam sucks in a breath. She doesn't look at him.
"There was nothing I could do. I just had to live with it." She fixes her eyes on him. "It was about survival. Doing what was right for everyone. Not rocking the boat, so I didn't get anyone killed because I couldn't handle my own feelings."
Sam stares back at her, speechless.
"I know how you feel," she says quietly. "Don't ever assume you're alone."
He can feel the shame spreading through him. How quiet and careful she is, so strategic and still, so full of pain. He can't keep it together for a week without losing it on one of them, but here she is, keeping it all inside like it's the only thing she can do.
Dean comes back to the car before he can even begin to think of a reply.
Elena smiles. "Hey Sam, what you think about using the alias Yoko Ono?"
He blinks, taken aback.
Dean laughs at him, clearly happy that Elena is talking again.
Sam clears his throat. "Really, Dean? I was gone for like a day." Elena might've been the one to ask, but Sam knows where the idea came from.
Dean shrugs, unrepentant.
Dean is relieved when he really does wake up in a dark motel room this time. Elena is not hyperventilating next to him, but she is moving, sliding out of the bed and onto the floor in a crouch. She straightens up, and he can see that she's headed for her bag, probably to go change into running clothes.
He follows after her. He grabs her hip, carefully pulling her shirt down over her bare skin, some lines can't be uncrossed.
"Dean?" Elena asks, her voice husky with sleep. "What are you doing?" she barely remembers to keep her voice low so they don't wake Sam.
"C'mon," Dean says simply, pulling her into the bathroom.
He closes the door behind them, boosting her up onto the counter and turning on the light.
She blinks under the fluorescent glare.
"What's this about, Dean?" Elena asks.
He stares at her, she stares back.
She doesn't look as bad, and she'd cracked a few more jokes about Sam's Yoko Ono alias, but Dean knows she's doing it for his sake.
"You lost it, Elena," he reminds her.
She looks away. "It happens."
He shakes his head. "Not like that. You don't lose it like that."
She shrugs. "I'm sorry."
He exhales, impatient. "I'm not mad, I'm concerned."
She holds her breath.
After a moment, he speaks again. "I've been thinking about when we first met," he says suddenly.
She looks back at him, confused.
"You told my dad that it had already happened, that whatever was gonna happen to you already happened."
Understanding dawns on her face.
He hesitates, then plunges in. "I know you can't tell me even though you want to, so I won't make you or anything. But say you were sacrificed."
She inhales shakily.
He nods in understanding. "Say you were sacrificed, and somehow, you lived."
He strokes one hand down her face, quickly, as if to remind himself that she is alive in front of him.
"The worst thing that could happen to you would be to go through that again, right?"
She stares at him, and then to his surprise, she shakes her head. Her words seem to turn his lungs to stone.
"Say it happened," she begins, using his words, his careful hypothetical. "Then the only thing worse than it happening again is watching someone else you love die first."
It's not exactly coherent, but it's enough.
He nods. "Right. That'd be worse."
They stay in the bathroom for a long time, her perched on the sink, him standing in front of her, one of her knees touching his hip.
tbc.
AN: Chapter title from Sons & Daughters by The American Spirit. What else is there to say about this song except that it could be the theme song of the show?
Elena isn't in the scenes between Sam and Meg, so there wasn't much of a point in writing them all out exactly as they were, so I summed 'em up instead.
Fun fact, in the original draft of this chapter, the conversation between Elena and John includes both of their dialogue. I just deleted John's when I uploaded it to the site. Even his half of the conversation is pretty vague, but I decided I liked it better with just Elena's dialogue. Ya'll are like 3 chapters away from understanding a whole lot more, so I figure you can wait that long.
As of 2018, there are only 100,000 payphone left in the United States.
Lindsey Buckingham was a member of a Fleetwood Mac, and Steve Walsh was the original lead singer of Kansas.
That's it for now, hope everyone had fun! Thoughts? Questions? Please leave a review!
xoxo
-Pixie