Season Three

Episode Six: Have No Fear

By SnSam

Part Two

“Sammy…” Dean’s voice held the unmistakable tone of warning.

“Yeah, I see it, Dean,” Sam said as he steadied his grip on the sawed-off. He didn’t really see how anyone could miss anything looking like the creature standing before them. It was tall, matching Sam in height. Long black, stringy hair hung past its shoulders in tufts and its red eyes seemed to glow with either anger or hunger, Sam couldn’t be sure. It was dressed in tight-fitting clothing and if the young hunter didn’t know any better, he’d swear it was oilskin. A long cape hung from its shoulders, the loose fabric billowing in the non-existent wind. Despite all this, the creature looked…human.

Something was tickling the back of Sam’s mind, telling him he knew what this thing was, but before he could think much on it, it leapt at them.

“SAM!”

Sam and Dean fired at the exact time the mysterious blue flame shot out of the figure’s mouth. Sam didn’t know how Dean did it, but somehow he managed to place himself in front of Sam, taking the full assault of the creature’s attack.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled as he fell to the ground, clutching at his face.

Sam’s attention immediately went to his brother but he realized how dangerous that could be. He stepped in front of Dean, trying to provide a protective barrier between his brother and the creature and looked up to see the thing leering at him. Before it could launch its attack at Sam, though, the hunter brought up his gun and fired off a blast, the shot hitting it in the chest. For good measure, Sam fired again, causing it to screech and take off into the night.

Sam wasted no time as he dropped to the ground beside Dean, trying to get his brother to stop his wild thrashing. “Dean! Dude, stop moving around like that! Are you okay, Dean?”

“Where is that little bitch, Sammy?” Dean asked, through clenched teeth.

“I shot him—he disappeared.” Sam tried to move Dean’s hands from his face, but the older man wasn’t letting them budge. “Dude, let me see your face.”

“I can’t friggin’ see!” Dean bit out.

“That’s exactly what Trevor said happened to him.”

“Thanks for the refresher course, Sam,” Dean snapped, but Sam knew he didn’t mean to come across so harsh. He was hurt and it was one of the ways Dean dealt with pain—lashing out. “Do you think we can get out of here before that thing comes back?”

“Yeah, okay.” Sam braced himself to help Dean off the ground, but before he could get Dean even a few inches up, he sensed something behind him.

“What the hell’s happening, Sam?” Dean asked as he was carefully lowered back down to the soft forest floor.

Sam didn’t answer, only spun on his heel to aim the shotgun, but before he could get a decent aim, the thing ripped the weapon from his hands. Sam swallowed hard as he watched his gun go flying and didn’t have any time to react before the creature grabbed him by his jacket. Lifting him off the ground as if Sam weighed nothing more than a feather, he tossed him into the air. The young hunter frantically pedaled his arms and legs, trying to slow his flight and finally came to a stop when he collided with a tree, hitting his head.

“SAMMY!”

Dean’s voice was nothing but a faint whisper in his ears and before he lost all tethers to the conscious world, he saw the thing walking towards him, a twisted smile on its face.

****

Mia let out an irritated sigh as she watched the brothers retreat into the deep forest. “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna sit here and be treated like a damsel in distress by the freakin’ Hardy Boys.”

It pissed her off they didn’t think she could take care of herself. Yeah, so they thought she had some unknown demon gunning for her ass—big deal. I’m sure if I had a big classic car with a trunk full of weapons, I’d show them I could handle it just fine on my own, too.

It bothered her how protective Dean was and she seriously wondered how it was that Sam hadn’t killed him already. Was this what the younger Winchester had to put up with on a daily basis? No wonder he’s always in a pissy mood…

Speaking of Sam—the youngest of the Winchester clan wasn’t completely innocent, either. He was a smidge better about it than Dean, but it didn’t stop Mia from noticing his watchful eyes on her. “But still, if Sam wasn’t bad enough, I’ve got Dean pretending to be Sir Freakin’ Lancelot, intent on riding in on his black stallion and saving the day.”

The entire thing was suffocating, really. But Mia knew one thing for sure: If Dean didn’t drop this savior act of his, she was going to go out of her mind. “Either that, or I’ll end up killing him sooner or later.” Sooner, if the jackass continued to play his cards wrong.

Releasing a woeful sigh, Mia let her eyes roam the interior of the Impala, grinning when they came to rest on the glove compartment. “They said to stay in the car. They never said I couldn’t be nosy while I was stuck in here like a stupid prisoner.”

Climbing over the backseat, Mia planted herself in the passenger seat. She opened the compartment and had to catch a few odds and ends that spilled out. It’s Dean Winchester…why the hell would I expect organization from him? It’s like asking to win the lottery or something. Tossing the items into the seat beside her, Mia reached in for the small wooden box tucked away inside. Opening the lid, she pulled out several badges, ranging from FBI to doctors to Homeland Security.

“Looks like someone has big dreams around here.”

Closing the box, she continued to rummage through the small storage space where she found a couple of old talismans, a small notebook with several Latin incantations and many scraps of paper with phone numbers scrawled on them. As she browsed through them, she figured she counted at least twenty different numbers.

“Amber…Chrissy…CiCi…Mindy…why am I not surprised?” Stuffing the oh-so-treasured mementos back into the compartment, she closed it up and reached under the seat where she found an old shoe box.

“Let’s see what we have here…” Thumbing through the old cassettes, Mia realized Dean was turning out to be worse than she had originally given him credit for. She knew he had an affinity for classic rock; he turned into a complete baby when someone talked bad about it. She appreciated some of it herself, but this was taking it a little far. “Motorhead…Black Sabbath…Iron Maiden. Yep, Mia, you certainly know how to pick them.”

Dean had certainly made this car his own and he was clearly staking out his territory. It kind of made her wonder if Sam had anything in here he could claim as his own. Then again, that didn’t seem like Sam; he had everything he needed in the car when Dean was with him. Watching the two of them together, Mia could see as long as Sam had Dean, he was happy and vice versa.

Mia glanced down at her watch and suddenly realized they’d been gone for quite a while. Surely it didn’t take that long to investigate what Dean kept claiming was a lost cause, did it? She knew she was supposed to stay in the car but what if the brothers were in trouble? Dean would be pissed that she didn’t listen to him, but he would eventually get over it. Biting her bottom lip, Mia once again gazed into the thicket of trees but saw no approaching lights or any sign of movement.

Her mind made up, she got out of the car and made her way down the trail, cognizant of the fact she was now alone and unarmed. Taking a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves, she kept to the marked path, recalling where on the map Trevor had pointed to as the attack site. She continued on for a few minutes before she heard Dean’s frantic voice.

“What the hell’s happening, Sam?”

That can’t be good…She stealthily made her way towards his voice, hiding in the cover of the brush when she came to an opening. The sight before her made her gasp loudly and she put a hand over her mouth, shrinking further into her hiding spot. Dean was being lowered to the ground while Sam had his back turned to some man. Mia thought about calling out a warning, but she knew if she did she could be caught and then they would all be in trouble. Instead, she watched with morbid fascination as he plucked Sam’s gun from his hands and tossed it aside. Then he picked Sam up by his jacket and gave him the same special treatment.

“SAMMY!” she heard Dean yell, his voice now on the verge of full-blown panic.

Deciding she needed to do something, she emerged from her cover just as Sam collided with a tree and fell to the ground in a boneless heap. As the man approached Sam, she found one of the guns and grasped it firmly in her hands. Just as he was bending down to make a grab for Sam, she cocked the gun, its sound echoing through the quiet night.

“Hey!” Mia shouted and smiled when he turned to look at her, something akin to fear in his red eyes.

“I would advise you not to interfere, girl,” he said, his voice a slight hiss.

“Yeah, well, I was never one to take advice.” Mia fired the gun, the blast hitting the creature right in the chest. Before he had a chance to recover, she fired the last remaining round into him. He let out a feral growl before leaping away into the night.

Mia exhaled a deep breath, tossing the gun aside as she ran to Dean’s side. “Dean, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dean grunted. “We’ll talk about you leaving the Impala after you check on Sammy.”

“I saved your ass.”

“Check on Sammy.” Dean’s voice held no room for argument.

Mia sighed in frustration, but did as Dean told her. Crouching down next to Sam, she gently turned him over noticing the blood trailing down the left side of his face. Pushing his hair away from his forehead, she spied a large lump forming with a small cut right below his hairline.

“Come on, Sam. Wake up,” she said, lightly tapping his face. When he didn’t respond to her gentle prodding, she hit him a little harder. “Sam!” she tried again, her voice firmer.

“Wha—what?” Sam blinked rapidly, trying to focus his eyes. He frowned when he saw her. “Mia? What are you doing out here?”

Mia smiled. “As I just told Dean, I’m saving your ass. Are you going to be as ungrateful as your brother?” She stood up offering a hand to him. “Come on, get up.”

Sam took the proffered hand and got to his feet, stumbling as dizziness seemed to overtake him. Shaking himself slightly, he looked around the forest. “Where did it go?”

“I shot it and it took off.” Mia looked towards where the creature disappeared. “I don’t know how long it will stay gone though, so we should get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. He glanced over to where Dean was leaning against a tree and approached his sibling. “Dean, are you okay?”

“No, I still can’t see anything.” His voice then took on his protective tone. “What about you? What did it do to you?”

“Gave me an impromptu flying lesson.” Dean grunted as Sam helped him stand up. “Good thing a tree was there to stop my flight.”

“You found something that could penetrate that hard head of yours?” Dean smirked. “I’m impressed, Sammy.”

“How did you know I hit my head if you can’t see?”

“Come on—that’s about the only thing I’ve found that can actually shut you up, Sam.”

“Bite me.”

Dean laughed.

Sam turned back to look at Mia. “Mia, can you grab our guns while I help Dean get back to the car?”

“Sure.”

Sam waited until she gathered them up and then let her walk in front of them. When they got to the Impala, Sam helped Dean into the passenger seat. “Hand me your keys, Dean.”

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled them out. “Just because I can’t see doesn’t mean you can screw around with my car,” he said as he held them out.

Sam rolled his eyes and plucked them away. “You worry too much, Dean.” Shutting the door, he walked to the back of the Impala where Mia was waiting for him and unlocked the trunk.

“Is he going to be okay?” Mia asked, nodding towards Dean. She couldn’t hide the worry in her voice and was acutely aware that was letting Sam hear it. She was sure the younger brother already sensed it, that this was bothering her, that Dean was worrying her.

Sam’s eyes softened as he took the guns from her. “He’ll be fine. Dean’s had far worse happen to him, so this is actually pretty mild.”

“Are you sure?”

Sam closed the trunk and nodded. “He just needs to rest for a bit. His vision should clear up in a few hours and he’ll be back to his charming self tomorrow morning.”

Mia frowned as she walked to the back passenger seat. “Oh, well, in that case is there anything we can do to prolong it?”

Sam laughed as he climbed into the car.

Mountain Top Inn

Dean lifted his head from the pillow as he heard the motel room door close. His hand instinctively reached for the Bowie knife he kept tucked there, senses on the alert. It kind of surprised him that people were right when they said after one sense goes, the others seem to become sharper. He hated the fact he couldn’t see more than a few inches in front of him. It made him feel weak and, although he hated to admit it, slightly vulnerable.

“Relax, Dean, it’s just me,” Sam said as he placed a paper bag and the keys on the small table in the room.

Dean sniffed the air as the aroma of burgers and fries filled the room. “Hey, is that grub?”

“Yeah, I figured you could use something to eat.”

“God, yes.” Dean sat up straighter on the bed and tried to make out the blurry massive form of his younger brother. “Did you get Mia settled in?”

“Yeah, she’s in the room next to us. She’s a little pissed off right now, though.”

Dean let out an aggravated sigh. Could nothing be done to please the woman? “Why now?”

“She wanted to get out of her room for a little while, take some time for herself, but I told her with you pretty much being out of commission right now and me having to take care of things, it would be better if she just stayed in her room.”

“Thus pissing her off.”

“Exactly. She wasn’t happy about it but she agreed. I salted the door and the windows and laid a Devil’s Trap on the floor so nothing can get in.”

“Good.” Dean clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Now, how about you hand over that food?”

“Not yet.”

“Come again?”

“You’re not getting anything until I get a good look at your eyes.”

Damn Sam and his mother-henning. “What about your head?” he returned.

“Blindness trumps a head injury.”

“Not in my book it doesn’t.”

“Well, your book is closed.” Dean felt pressure on the bed as Sam sat down beside him. “Open your eyes.”

“Did I not teach you anything about manners, Sammy?” Dean groused.

“Oh, that’s right, you did. I forgot. Open your eyes—jerk.” Dean could hear the smile in his young brother’s voice.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered but did as Sam said anyway. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a pissy Sam, considering they had a pissy Mia in the next room. Two pissed off women was more than he could handle. One thing was for sure, though—when he got his sight back, Sam was going to learn who the Florence Nightingale was in the family.

****

Mia could hear the faint arguing emanating through the walls as Sam and Dean verbally sparred. She didn’t understand how two grown men could act like complete children at the same time. She guessed it was a talent the male species of the world possessed and they felt the need to lord it over the masses.

Right now, the young woman wanted nothing more than to knock the both of them out. She was beginning to see she was wrong in her earlier assessment of Sam: he could be just as protective as Dean when he needed to be. I’m surprised he’s not cutting my food for me…she thought as she discarded the rest of her cheeseburger into the garbage can.

Okay, maybe that was a little mean, but at the same time it was the truth. Was it so wrong to want to be by yourself for a little bit? Yeah, she was in her own room but she wanted to get out and stretch her legs, get some fresh air and clear her head. Mia was sure Sam had to get away from Dean from time to time so why couldn’t she receive the same courtesy? Did the two of them realize how annoying they could be?

“This just sucks out loud!” She grumbled as she threw herself down on the bed. Well, she didn’t have to take this—they weren’t her parents and they couldn’t keep her from leaving if she wanted to. I’m a grown woman, for God’s sake. Last time I checked I didn’t have to ask permission to venture out on my own…

Mia made her mind up—she wasn’t going to let them tell her what she could or couldn’t do. Lying in her bed, her gaze on the ceiling, she listened intently as the voices finally died down, the sounds of passing traffic taking its place. She wanted to make sure they were asleep before she slipped out of her room.

So she waited.

Mia remained in her bed for another hour before quietly stepping out of her room and into the darkness.

****

When Sam woke up early the next morning his head was killing him, not to mention other parts of his body were making their aches known loud and clear. He figured flying head first into a tree would do that to a person. He wanted nothing more than to turn over and go back to sleep, but his pounding head wasn’t going to let him have a moment’s respite.

So, he’d lied to Dean last night when he told him he wasn’t hurt too badly, but honestly, what could his brother have done considering he couldn’t see two inches in front of him? Sam’s luck, Dean would have inadvertently hurt him even further and Sam didn’t want to deal with that. Dean was bad enough on any given day but throw in some guilt and the elder Winchester was next to impossible to deal with. Sam knew Dean would give him hell for lying about the extent of his injuries, but he would worry about that later.

After he downed a few ibuprofens, that is…

Pushing away the covers, Sam twisted his tall frame around and planted his feet on the ground. A wave of pain washed over him and he had to shut his eyes in order to push it away. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he slowly got up and grabbed up their first aid kit, in search of the pain medication. Palming three of them, he shuffled into the bathroom and filled up a glass with lukewarm water. Tossing the pills back, he chased them with the water and then walked back into the room just as Dean was starting to stir. Sam sat heavily on the bed and watched his brother slowly open his eyes and blink rapidly as the sun streamed into the room.

“Hey, how’s the vision?” Sam asked.

Dean turned to look at him. “Good enough to know you look like crap.”

“Nice, Dean.”

“Yeah, well…”

Sam smiled as he held up three fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“I don’t know.” Dean held up one of his own. “Tell me how many I’m holding up.” He reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. “Damn, Sammy—did you have to find a motel that was so girly?”

Sam sighed as he placed his head in his hands. Dean was back to normal, but then again, Sam couldn’t blame him for his comment. With its light blue walls and a ceiling border consisting of small white and yellow daisies, the room was meant to look like a prairie field in the mountains. Flowered curtains hung from the two small windows on either side of the door while the two twin beds were dressed in thin light green blankets meant to symbolize the leaves of the flowers. Rough sage green carpeting covered the floor and Sam supposed that was supposed to be the grass. Mirrors in the shapes of daisies and a couple of cheap prints decorated the walls. The room would make an avid gardener consider suicide.

“You try finding a motel in the middle of the night while you’re worried about your blind brother,” Sam muttered. He really wasn’t in the mood to start an argument with Dean this early in the morning. “Besides, Mia picked it out.”

Dean smirked. “Nice try, Sammy, but you’re more feminine than Mia is.”

Sam frowned. “I’m not sure if that’s insulting me, Mia, or the both of us.”

Dean merely shrugged, but then his expression turned sober. “Seriously, man, are you okay? You don’t look like you feel too good.”

“I just have a headache. I already took something for it before you ask.” Sam looked up and tried to smile at Dean reassuringly, but it failed miserably.

Dean walked across the small room and flipped on the overhead light, causing him and Sam both to squint at the sudden brightness. Dean slowly made his way over to Sam and sat down beside him. “Move that mess you call hair and let me see the damage.”

“Did anyone ever tell you, you’re extremely bossy?” Sam muttered as he pushed his hair away from his forehead.

“Has anyone ever told you what a piss-poor liar you are?” Dean returned, gently probing the small cut.

Sam hissed as Dean applied more pressure and slapped his brother’s hand away. “Dammit, Dean!”

Dean shrugged. “It doesn’t look too bad. You got a pretty good sized lump there, but at least the cut isn’t too deep.”

“I told you I was fine.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t believe you.” Dean got up from the bed and stretched his arms over his head. “I’m gonna grab a shower and then we can go find something to eat.”

Sam said nothing as he lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. He heard Dean rummage around the room, then the sound of the bathroom door closing. Soon after, the gentle sound of the shower emanated from the closed door, lulling Sam into a light sleep.

He was awoken a few minutes later by a knock at the door. Grumbling as he got up from the bed, he opened the door to find Mia standing there.

“You look like crap,” she commented as she brushed past him into the room.

Sam shut the door. “That seems to be the general consensus around here this morning.”

“Where’s Dean?” She took off her jacket and sat down on Dean’s bed.

“Shower.”

“So, I’m assuming his vision is back to normal.”

“Yeah.” Sam smiled. “Now he can go back to his normal, pain-in-the-ass self. By the way, you’re responsible for picking out this motel.”

“Excuse me?”

“Dean said it was too girly, so I sort of blamed it on you.”

“There is no way in hell I would pick a hellhole like this,” Mia said, arching a brow.

Sam let out a defeated sigh and hung his head. “Dean didn’t believe it for a second, either.”

Mia laughed. “Smart man, that brother of yours.”

“He certainly has his moments.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Dean, dressed only in blue jeans, emerged through a billowing cloud of steam. “I thought I heard you talking to someone,” he said to Sam. He glanced at Mia. “How long have you been here?”

Mia shrugged. “Only a few minutes. I was seeing what was on the agenda for today.”

Dean clapped Sam on the back as he walked to his open duffel bag. “That would be a question for our resident Geekboy here.”

Sam rolled his eyes at the comment and bit back a retort. Dean was doing his damnedest to get under his skin and he wasn’t going to give in. Instead, he focused his attention on Mia. “After the attack on us last night, I would definitely say there’s something going on out there.” He looked pointedly at Dean.

The other hunter held his hands up in surrender. “You’re not hearing crap from me. I want that bastard just as much as you do.”

“We need to do some research. I know I’ve seen the thing that attacked us somewhere before, but I just can’t place it.”

Dean slipped on his jacket and grabbed up his keys. “That sounds exciting and everything, Sammy, but before we settle knee deep into boredom, we’re grabbing something to eat.” He looked back and forth between Sam and Mia, smiling. “Any takers?”

****

Fifteen minutes later, the Winchesters and Mia entered Aunt May’s Diner, a small mom-and-pop eatery promising to serve up the best home-cooked meal you could ask for. Sam wasn’t too sure of that, since most of their jaunts when it came to eating usually involved food that would clog your arteries just glancing at it—well, Dean’s choices anyway. Sam was willing to give Aunt May a chance, considering he needed to get something in his stomach. He didn’t really get a chance to eat his burger the night before, or he gave up on it—he wasn’t sure which. Luckily, his headache had dimmed somewhat, though it still beat a staccato rhythm, just to let him know it was still there and maintaining residence.

A tiny bell announced their presence and a young woman, who appeared to be in her early twenties, with long red hair pulled into a ponytail, waved them in. “You can sit anywhere you like,” she said bobbing her head in the general direction of the tables and booths. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

“Thanks,” Dean said as he pointed to a booth in the back. “We’ll be back there.”

“That’s fine,” the waitress said as she poured coffee for a couple of elderly gentlemen.

Sam was about to follow Dean and Mia when a bulletin board to his left caught his eye. “Hey, Dean, check it out.” Taking up a good portion of the corkboard were missing persons fliers in yellows, greens, blues, and pinks, though some were slightly faded with age. Perusing them, Sam noticed some of the dates and his eyes widened in surprise.

“Some of these are a few months old, while some go back twenty years,” Sam commented when he saw Dean join him.

Dean pointed to one in the middle. “There’s one for Lauren Miller.”

Sam frowned. “You think that thing we saw last night took all these people?”

“I don’t know what to think, Sammy.” He reached out and steered Sam away from the board. “Come on. Let’s get back to the table before Mia orders us some rabbit food.”

Sam chuckled and followed his brother to the table where the waitress was setting down coffee for all of them. As he slid into the booth, Sam couldn’t help but be troubled by all the “missing” posters. Maybe they’d stepped into something bigger than Lauren Miller—maybe there were countless others unaccounted for and maybe the creature that attacked them last night was responsible for it all. Whatever it was, he knew he’d seen that thing before. It was tickling the back of his mind and honestly driving him crazy.

“Are you ready to order?”

Sam jumped at the sound of the waitress’s voice and glanced up to see her pen poised above her order pad, patiently waiting to take his order. He felt warmth creep into his cheeks and knew he had to be registering a firm six on the embarrassment scale, if not higher. Quickly picking up the laminated menu, he gave it a speedy scan and flashed her a bashful smile. “I’ll have the blueberry pancakes with an orange juice.”

“Sure thing.” She jotted down the order and collected their menus. “I’ll be right back.”

“Dude, what were you thinking about that you didn’t notice the incredibly hot chick standing a foot away from you?” Dean asked as soon as she was out of earshot.

Mia shot Dean a look. “Hot chick? Are you always this demeaning to women?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“You’re talking about her like she’s an object, not a person.” Mia rolled her eyes. “You know, it’s no wonder you can’t hold on to a decent woman for any length of time.”

“How do you know I can’t hold on to a woman?”

“Because I know your type.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Do you two have to argue every time you step foot into a restaurant?” Sam asked, rubbing at his temples, trying in vain to stop his headache from flaring up again.

“We wouldn’t be arguing if your brother would just apologize for what he said,” Mia protested.

Dean looked at her. “I’m sorry—you’re right. I was being a complete ass and I shouldn’t have said that.” He turned his eyes to Sam. “Dude, what were you thinking about that you didn’t notice the incredibly attractive woman standing a foot away from you?” He glanced at Mia again and smiled. “Better?”

“Oh, dear God,” she muttered, turning her head away to look out the window.

“What?” Dean held his hands up, his face the picture of innocence, but no one answered him. “What?”

Just then, the young redhead came back to the table with their orders. After placing a plate full of fried eggs, bacon, toast, and sausage in front of Dean, she gave Mia her bacon and eggs and Sam his pancakes and orange juice. Just as she was about to leave them to eat, Sam reached out a hand to stop her. “Excuse me.”

“Way to go, Sammy,” Dean said softly, garnering a kick from both Sam and Mia. “Ow!”

The waitress, whose nametag read “Jill,” looked at Dean strangely and then frowned at Sam. “Is there something wrong with your order?”

“No, not at all,” Sam assured her quickly.

Jill let out a huge sigh of relief. “What can I do for you then?”

Sam silently thanked God Dean didn’t give her an answer. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions—if you’re not busy, that is.”

Jill looked around the now empty restaurant. “You appear to be my only customers at the moment.” She grabbed a chair from a nearby table and pulled it over. “What do you need to know?”

“We’re investigating Lauren Miller’s disappearance.”

“Yeah, that was such a terrible thing to happen. I went to school with her a few years back. Everyone around here is pretty much freaking out.”

“I was noticing the bulletin board when I came in. Were all those people from around here?”

Jill nodded. “No one can understand what’s going on. Like I said, everyone’s freaked—nothing really stays open until late at night except another diner down the road and a bar. No one wants to venture out at night because they’re afraid they may be next.”

“Do the police have any suspects?”

Jill shook her head sadly. “They say it must be some kind of serial killer but I think that’s just the best thing they can come up with.”

“What do you think is happening?”

“Honestly, I’m not too sure of that. I just don’t buy into the whole serial killer scenario. I mean, what kind of killer murders and then waits for twenty years to do it again?” She looked to the brothers but they didn’t offer up any answer for her.

“How do you know those people were murdered?” Dean asked, suspicion clearly in his voice. Sam shot him a look but Dean chose to keep his attention focused on Jill.

Jill shrugged. “They disappear and are never heard from again. What other explanation is there?”

“How long have you lived here in Bennington?” Sam asked.

She glanced over at Sam again. “All my life, which must make me crazy or pretty close.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, you know the legend of Bennington, right?”

Sam shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Jill leaned forward in her chair, as if she was letting them in on a big secret. “There have always been weird things going on around here.”

“Weird like how?”

“Strange occurrences—weird lights over the area, strange sounds coming from the forest, weird disgusting odors coming from anywhere but nowhere at the same time.”

“And no one can explain them?”

“Nope.” Jill looked up as the bell above the door signaled another person—a police deputy. “I should really get back to work, guys. I hope you can find Lauren.”

“We hope so, too.” Sam gave her a small, hopeful smile.

Jill gave them a little wave as she put her chair away and went up to the counter to help the deputy.

“What do you make of that?” Dean asked, keeping his voice low.

Sam shrugged as he finally cut into his blueberry pancakes and took a bite. “I’m not sure. Paranormal areas aren’t that unheard of, especially ones connected to mysterious disappearances. There’s the Bermuda Triangle in the Atlantic and the Dragon’s Triangle in Japan.” He swallowed down some orange juice and frowned. “Now that I think about it, there’s something called the Bennington Triangle over this way.”

“You think this is the same Bennington?”

“I don’t know.” Sam chewed on his lower lip. “Could be. I think it would be too much of a coincidence if it wasn’t.”

“And coincidence is one of a few things we don’t believe in, right up there with the Easter Bunny, Bigfoot, and Santa.”

“Exactly.”

Dean pushed his polished-off plate away. “Okay, so what do you want to do?”

“We really need to do some research on this town and that thing we saw last night.”

“We should also talk to the sheriff, though it pains me to admit that. Maybe he can shed some light on these disappearances.”

“I think the best thing to do would be to split up. We can work a lot faster.”

Dean nodded. “I agree.” He looked at Mia. “Are you coming with me?”

Mia shook her head as she wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. “I think I’ll stick around and help Sam out.”

Dean looked at her in surprise. “You’re seriously telling me you’re volunteering to do research with Geekboy here?”

“It doesn’t take two people to lie their way into the sheriff’s office, Dean. Besides, I’m sure Sam would appreciate some help.”

Dean looked over at Sam, but the younger man shook his head. “I’m staying out of this.”

“Okay.” Dean took a final swig of his coffee and stood up. “You two have fun.”

Bennington Sheriff’s Department

Dean couldn’t stop the feeling of apprehension washing over him as he stepped through the doors of the Bennington Sheriff’s Department. Ever since the fiasco with the shapeshifter back in St. Louis, he couldn’t help but be worried, though he was technically dead. That would certainly be a hard one to explain—a seemingly dead man walking through the doors of the local sheriff’s department. Then again, this was a small town so he should be okay.

It was all about confidence and Dean Winchester had plenty of confidence, so much so he was sure it could come shooting out of his ass at any time. All he needed to do was plaster on a bright smile and he could get anything—or anyone—he wanted. Luckily, a female was sitting at the front desk so he knew this would be a walk in the park.

“Hi, can I help you?” The cute brunette with bright green eyes smiled up at him.

“I certainly hope so…” Dean paused, searching for her name.

“Hope,” she supplied, blushing slightly.

Dean smiled. “Hope…that’s a cute name.”

Hope laughed and turned a brighter shade of pink.

“I’m Detective Young with the State Police.” Dean produced a badge from his pocket and flashed it at her. “I was wondering if it would be possible to speak with the sheriff?”

“Are you working on the Miller disappearance?” Hope asked.

“I am.”

Hope glanced behind her and Dean followed her eyes to a closed door. “Let me go see if he’s busy.”

“Sounds great.” Dean flashed her another dazzling smile and had to keep himself from laughing when she stumbled as she got up from her chair. Oh, yeah. I definitely still have it.

A couple minutes later, she came back out this time followed by a tall man with short, slightly wavy blond hair. “I’m Sheriff Todd Landon.” He held out his hand to Dean. “Can I help you?”

Dean took the proffered hand, not surprised at all by the older man’s firm grip. “I’m Detective Young with the State Police. I’m here investigating Lauren Miller’s disappearance. Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”

Landon nodded. “Sure, we can go to my office.” He glanced at Hope. “Hope, hold my calls.”

Hope nodded. “Sure thing, Sheriff Landon.”

Dean followed the sheriff to his office, a small room crowded with an old desk with a worn leather chair. Two folding chairs sat in front of the desk and three large gray filing cabinets took up the left wall. Awards and accolades, along with family pictures, decorated the walls.

“Have a seat,” Landon said indicating the chairs.

“Thanks.” Dean sat down as the sheriff closed the door and moved around the desk to take his own seat.

“I didn’t know the State Police were involved,” Landon said, weaving his hands together and resting them on the desk. He fixed Dean with an intense stare.

Dean swallowed and nodded. “We’ve actually been looking at this case from a distance for a couple of days now. Then Lauren’s parents called and here I am.”

Landon frowned. “Rick and Lori didn’t tell me they were going to do that.”

Dean gave a half shrug. “I don’t know anything about it except I was asked to come look into it.” Dean pulled out a small notepad and pen from his jacket pocket. “What can you tell me about Lauren Miller’s disappearance?”

Landon sighed and leaned back in his chair, causing it to squeak in protest. “We don’t really know much about it to tell you the truth. There was no evidence left behind.”

“Her boyfriend claimed something attacked them.”

“We just don’t have any evidence to back that statement up.” Landon shook his head sadly. “At this point, Trevor Gregory’s a very strong suspect until we can find something to corroborate his story.”

“Lauren isn’t the first missing person around here, is she?”

“Unfortunately, no. We seem to be having a run of bad luck in these parts.”

“And Trevor’s not a suspect in all of those, is he?”

Landon let out an irritated sigh. “I see where you’re going with this, Detective Young. As I said before, Trevor is just one suspect—we’re looking into other possibilities as well.”

Okay, Winchester, pull back the reins just a bit. You do not need to piss off the law. “Do you think there’s a possibility Lauren Miller might be found alive?”

Landon seemed to calm a bit. “She’s been missing three days already. It’s a real shame because she’s a good girl, but there may not be anything we can do for her.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the same thing happens here every twenty to twenty-five years, since the 1940s. People go missing and they are never heard from or seen again.”

“Can you elaborate?”

The sheriff looked at his watch and frowned. “Unfortunately, I can’t right now. I have a meeting with the mayor in ten minutes.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the small coat rack behind his desk. “Go to the library, it’s where we keep the old crime reports. Helen can help you find what you need.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” Dean stood up and shook the lawman’s hand again.

“I certainly hope you have better luck than we have, Detective. I would love for an ending to this nightmare.”

Dean nodded as he opened the door to the office. “Yeah, me too.”

“Call me if you need anything else.”

“I will. Thank you for your time, Sheriff.” Dean gave a small wave to Hope and walked out the double doors into the bright sunlight. The young man couldn’t help but be troubled about what he’d learned from Landon.

One thing he did know for sure, though: He was going to bring an end to whatever evil was plaguing the town of Bennington.

Mountain Top Inn

Sam rubbed at his tired eyes as the screen before him started to fade in and out. Yes, research was boring—almost as exciting as watching paint dry but somehow, the shaggy-haired man seemed to thrive off it. Maybe it was the prospect of being rewarded by something new he didn’t know, like solving a mystery and all the pieces of the puzzle starting to fall together. But Sam was realistic, too—he knew how painstaking it could be and that answers didn’t just fall into your lap like those one-hour crime dramas led you to believe. If things were that easy, Sam was sure there would be far fewer problems in the world.

So far, he was having very little luck in the research department and it was beginning to frustrate him. He wanted to find answers and bring this creature down. It aggravated him that he’d seen this thing before but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember when. If only there was a stupid website that could read his mind and pop out the results he was looking for. Yeah, and as soon as that happened, Dean would actually learn to share his feelings.

“Wow.”

Sam looked up at the sound of Mia’s voice. “What?”

She pushed away the book she’d been reading and spread out on her stomach across Dean’s bed. “This is incredibly boring.”

Sam laughed. “Hey, I never promised this would be fun.”

“Hey, I never asked. Next time, I will definitely remember to do that.”

“You don’t have to stick around if you don’t want.” Sam shrugged. “I’m pretty used to handling this not so glamorous side of hunting by myself, anyway.”

“No, it’s fine.” Mia grabbed the book again and flipped through it as Sam returned to his laptop. “I just thought I would let you know.”

Sam smiled but said nothing.

“So…Dean doesn’t help you with any of this?”

“Sure he does. He inserts his various snarks and well-timed punchlines when needed.”

Mia laughed. “That sounds like Dean.”

“Yeah, but all kidding aside, he’ll do his research when he needs to. He’d just rather be in constant action mode at all times. He doesn’t like to waste time when there’s a chance we can save someone.” Sam gave a half-shrug. “It’s one of the things I admire about him—what he’s willing to do to make sure an innocent life’s spared.”

Mia smiled. “You really look up to him, don’t you?”

Sam nodded. “I guess that’s what little brothers are supposed to do. Look up to their big brothers, trying to emulate them.”

“You’ve got a good one in Dean.”

“The best.” There were a few awkward seconds of silence before Sam cleared his throat. “So…now that we’ve delved into the personal territory for me, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“You and my brother—is there something there?” Sam shook his head. “Who am I kidding? Of course there’s something there.”

Mia nodded. “I’m not going to lie to you, Sam. I’m attracted to your brother and yeah, he’s hot and everything.”

Sam cleared his throat. “This just got several levels of uncomfortable…”

Mia smiled. “As I was saying, I’m attracted to Dean, but it’s not like I want to settle down with him, have kids and join the PTA.”

Sam considered that for a few seconds before looking at her. “Mia, can I be honest with you?”

“Sure. I wouldn’t want you to be any other way.”

“Okay.” Sam was quiet for a few moments as he tried to think of the best way to be honest without hurting her feelings—too badly. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but when it comes to Dean, I’m protective as hell. You think he’s bad on any given day, you haven’t seen anything yet. My entire life Dean has done nothing but look after me and I’ll do the same for him, if not more.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Sam.”

“That’s a good thing to say, Mia, and it should be something I want to hear, but I’ve learned to take things with a grain of salt. Dean deserves to have something good happen to him and I refuse to see him hurt.” His cold gaze on Mia was unwavering and he saw her flinch a little. Good, she knows I’m serious. “I won’t let you hurt him, Mia.”

Mia nodded. “I get what you’re saying, Sam, and I can’t blame you for how you feel about me. Hell, I’d be the same way if the roles were reversed.” She smiled softly. “I’m not going to sit here and promise you anything, Sam. That’s not who I am, but I won’t hurt Dean as long as I can help it.”

Sam nodded. “That’s all I can ask.”

“So, is the grilling portion of our show finished?”

“Yeah—for the most part, anyway.” Sam looked back at his open laptop. “Now, if only finding this damn creature was that easy.”

“You thought that was easy?”

Sam shrugged as he pressed a few keys. “Easier than talking to Dean, anyway.” He frowned as a site popped up and then instantly brightened. “Hey, I think I found it.”

“Really?” Mia hopped up from the bed and walked behind him so she could peer over his shoulder. “What is that thing?”

“A Spring-Heeled Jack. It was thought to be a man who terrorized citizens across London between 1837 and 1904. He mostly pursued women because they were easier targets. He would attack them, leaving them in a constant state of fear. He never actually killed anyone until 1845, when a prostitute by the name of Maria Davis was murdered.”

“So, you think this is what we are dealing with here?”

“Not exactly. This thing stuck to Europe, but I think we’re dealing with a variation of it—I guess you could say a NuJack, for lack of a better term. It’s more evolved and it’s stepped up its game compared to the Spring-Heeled Jack.”

“What is it then?”

Sam shook his head. “I’m not sure.” He saved the page in his list of “favorites” and then typed in another search. Clicking on a page when the results popped up, he quickly scanned the article. “It looks like Jill was right about Bennington. For years it’s been the setting for a lot of mysterious supernatural occurrences.”

“Like what?”

“Exactly what Jill was saying—weird lights, sounds, and smells coming from the forest surrounding the Glastenbury Mountains.”

“That’s where we were last night, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” Sam read a little more before speaking again. “That’s not all, either. It says here that Native Americans wouldn’t even get near it, saying it was cursed land. They used it mostly for burying their dead. The town of Glastenbury eventually became a ghost town in 1937, after succumbing to disease, bad weather, and deaths.”

“That’s weird.”

“Definitely.” Sam clicked on another link. “It says in 1892, Henry MacDowell murdered a fellow millworker by the name of Jim Crowley in a drunken brawl. They say MacDowell was declared insane and sentenced to the nearby Waterbury Asylum. He escaped a short time later and was never seen again.”

“That could have been nothing more than your everyday escape,” Mia argued.

Sam shook his head. “They didn’t think so, not at that time anyway.”

“So, is his spirit haunting the forest?”

“No, the thing we’re dealing with is definitely not a spirit. It would have been repelled by the rock salt if it was. The only thing that managed to do was piss it off even more.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension building there. “Spring-Heeled Jacks are thought of more like phantom attackers, like the Mothman.” He got up from his chair and walked over to his duffel.

“What are you looking for?”

“My dad’s journal. I want to see if he has the place marked down.” Pulling out the worn leather book from the bag, he thumbed through the pages. Sam barely even looked up as a knock sounded at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Mia said and Sam gave her a dismissive wave as he finally found the page he was looking for.

John definitely had the area marked along with a list of names filling most of the small page. He didn’t appear to have much on it and Sam wasn’t sure if it was a place his dad hadn’t gotten around to or if he thought it was all just talk.

“Mia, who’s at the door?” Sam asked, his head still in the journal.

Mia didn’t say anything and Sam looked up just in time to see her go flying across the small room and hitting the wall with a loud resonating thud.

“Mia!” Sam threw down the journal and rushed to the fallen woman’s side. He frantically checked for a pulse and was relieved when he found a steady one. Senses on the alert, thinking somehow a demon had found them, he was on his feet in an instant grabbing the holy water from the weapons bag. Turning around, he was met by the NuJack.

“You’re not going to need that, boy.” The NuJack swiped the silver flask out of Sam’s hands and grabbed the startled hunter by the shoulders, at the same time shooting the blue flame from his mouth.

Sam cried out in shock and pain as the flame hit his eyes and he struggled out of the creature’s grasp. In his hurry and confusion to get away from the NuJack, his foot hooked on the table causing him to lose his balance.

Sam saw stars as his recovering head hit the edge of the bed, but they were quickly replaced by darkness.

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The Winchester Chronicles