PART 3
Early the Following
Morning…
Dean emerged from the bathroom freshly showered and dressed his mind on food. He glanced up to see Sam was reading waiting patiently to use the shower himself. Sam looked at him then asking, “How’d you sleep, Dean?”
He broke eye contact momentarily before regarding his brother answering, “Good, good.”
Sam watched his brother noticing almost immediately that Dean was very tired. He looked downright exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in over a week. If he were to hazard a guess he’d say it had been longer than that. He knew what answer he’d get when he inquired about sleep but asked the question anyway hoping that Dean might confide in him about what disturbed his rest. He had a sneaking suspicion that a lot of those sleep disturbances revolved around what he had experienced during the four months he was gone. Dean would talk when he was ready…or so he hoped. The moment Dean replied to his initial question he could tell that it was a lie, which meant that Dean hadn’t rested at all the night before. Instead of making a huge issue out of it Sam opted for distraction, “I’ve been doing some more research on Downingtown…”
“And…?”
“There have been accidental deaths in the area dating back over fifty years.”
“Which means?”
“It means that there’s something more going on here.”
Dean froze again remembering Castiel’s warning. They wanted him, and they wouldn’t stop until they had him.
Sam noticing his brother’s sudden silence and pallid complexion stood up approaching him before asking, “Dean? Dean, are you okay?”
Placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder he could feel the muscles tense beneath him upon the contact and said Dean’s name again relieved when his brother finally focused on him answering, “Yeah, Sam, I’m fine.”
Nodding Sam softened his voice asking, “What’s going on with you, Dean?”
“Nothing, nothing, Sam, there’s nothing going on with me.”
Not believing him he stated, “You’ve been on edge ever since I mentioned Downingtown. Tell me why. What’s going on, Dean?”
“Nothing, I’m fine, Sam, really. I’m going to get something to eat, you want anything?”
“Dean…”
He casually drew away before walking to the door pausing long enough to repeat, “Do you want anything?”
Yes, an answer to my question, but he knew that Dean wouldn’t give it so shaking his head in frustration he answered, “No, No I’m just…I’m going to take a shower. You go. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Dean nodded and left. As the door closed abruptly Sam found himself staring at it for several moments before moving to the bathroom to shower. Something was wrong with Dean, and he had every intention of finding out just what it might be.
Once done showering Sam dressed then exited the bathroom no sooner settling in a chair when a knock resounded on the door. Rising he approached expecting to see housekeeping on the other side but instead his eyes fell to, “Ruby. What are you doing here?”
“Well hello to you too, Sam.”
Brisk as usual… Ignoring the unexpected iciness in her tone he demanded, “What do you want?”
“I want to help, Sam.”
Shaking his head offering her a curt smile in response he answered with, “We’ve already been through this. I’m done with it. It’s over, Ruby. I promised Dean…”
She cut him off haughtily questioning, “Speaking of Dean has he had any visitors lately?”
Knowing full well what ‘visitors’ she was referring to he still chose to ask, “Visitors?”
She humored him, “Why his guardian angel, of course.”
The word ‘angel’ was lined subtly with an edge of fear that Sam couldn’t help but notice. She was afraid of angels, had told him so herself, but had never really said why, so shrugging his shoulders he answered, “Not that I’m aware of, no, why do you ask? What do you want, Ruby?”
Irritation lined her voice as she quickly responded, “To help Sam.”
“And I’ve already said I’m done…”
She held up a hand to stop his statement mid-delivery before issuing her warning, “You need to leave here, Sam. You need to grab your brother and get the hell out of Downingtown.”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“Because they’re here, Sam, and they know that you’re here too.”
“By ‘they’ I take it you mean demons?”
“Yes.”
“So what do they want?”
She turned away before answering with, “Well it’s certainly not you.”
Surprised Sam found himself asking, “Well if they’re not here for us then why come?”
Turning back to gaze intently at him she hesitated for only a moment before answering, “Because they’re after a bigger prize, Sam, one bigger than you…”
“Which is?”
“Dean.”
Sam became instantly worried questioning, “Dean? Why would they want Dean?”
“To stop him, Sam…”
“To stop him…? But I thought they were afraid of him, afraid of…”
“Oh they are Sam, they are, but they also know he’s an imminent threat and what better way to sabotage the angels’ plans than to destroy the human messenger they selected to carry out their will?”
“What? But Dean…”
“Dean’s human, Sam, just like you, just like me…”
“You’re not human.”
“No but I can be destroyed just as easily as he can so my advice? Get him out of Downingtown as soon as you can or else you’ll both end up dead.”
The door opened then and Dean entered. The moment he spotted and recognized Ruby he demanded, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Without looking at Dean she simply replied, “Nothing, I was just leaving.”
Turning she glanced briefly at him before slipping by him as quickly as she was able tensing when he snapped, “Don’t come back.”
She would have said something in response if his presence alone didn’t scare her just a little. He had been saved by angels, pulled out of the fiery pit by some very powerful beings. Who’s to say they didn’t gift Dean Winchester with some sort of powers of his own? As that final thought asserted itself in her mind she disappeared as quickly as she had appeared feeling much more relaxed now that she was out of his presence.
Dean closed the door then turned glaring at Sam as he demanded, “What the hell was she doing here, Sam? I thought you were done with all that. Damn it, Sam, you told me, you promised me you were done with all that!”
“And I am Dean, I am…”
“Then why was she here?”
“To deliver a message…”
“Ah to deliver a message… What kind of message, Sam?”
Instead of answering the question directly Sam chose to simply state, “We need to leave Downingtown, Dean.”
“What?”
“She said that we needed to leave Downingtown.”
“Why?”
“Because it isn’t safe…”
Tensing he repeated, “It isn’t safe?” brushing off the warning as he continued, “And we’re just going to take her word for it?”
“Yes Dean. Look she’s just trying to help.”
“And just how is she trying to help?”
“She brought me a message.”
“A message…? Jeez Sam…”
“She said it wasn’t safe…”
“For…?”
Sam’s gaze lowered briefly to the floor before returning to his face once again as he replied, “For you, Dean, she said it isn’t safe for you.”
He watched Dean’s expression expecting surprise or shock even, anything but the sudden lowering of his own head which indicated that he knew more than he had been saying. Anger filtered in as he found himself snapping, “You knew? You already knew and you didn’t tell me?”
Dean kept his gaze trained on the floor for several more moments shifting nervously from one foot to the other and back again before focusing on Sam the answer to his question already reflecting in his eyes. Sam didn’t know what to say, or how to even react. He was angry with his brother, hurt by the fact that Dean hadn’t confided in him…again but the fear and worry that was bubbling so close to the surface drove away any desire to snap or yell at him further so he settled for a simple, “Why didn’t you tell me, Dean?” instead.
Dean’s answer was immediate as he softly, quietly said, “Because Sam we have a job to do here. People are dying and we can’t just leave.”
“Why not?”
“You know why, Sam. It’s our job to help these people.”
“Not if it gets you killed, Dean…”
Dean’s expression grew darker more intense as he added, “Who said anything about getting me killed, Sam?”
“Dean, come on!”
“We have a job to do, Sam, and I intend to finish it.”
“Even if in doing so it ends your life?”
“Yes.”
“No Dean, no, Ruby said they’re out there. She said they’re waiting for you. There’s no way of knowing just how many we’re up against here, and they’re all after you.”
“Well then let them come!”
Aggravated Sam bit out, “Oh, we’re back to that again?”
“Back to what, Sam, back to what…?”
“You, recklessly toying with your life as if you have a death wish or something…”
“I don’t have a death wish, Sam. I’ve been there; done that, have the t-shirt…”
“This isn’t a joke, Dean. Angels may have helped you once but who’s to say they will again? You need to stop being so careless, so…”
“Careless, Sam…?”
“Dean, please. Let’s just go, let’s just leave Downingtown behind us. Please, Dean.”
“What so more people die? No, Sam, no, we can’t. How many more people will die if we don’t do this, if we don’t take on this hunt? We have to try, Sam, we have to. Lives are depending on it.”
“The risks are too great, Dean, we…”
Abruptly cutting him off Dean informed, “Castiel told me to do what I needed to do here quickly and then get out…”
“Castiel? So he has been to visit you?”
Ignoring the question Dean continued, “Sam we need to stop this, whatever this is we need to stop it. Once we do that, once we accomplish that then we can leave.”
“But what if they catch up to us before this is done? What do we do then, Dean?”
Dean said nothing looking away before turning back to add in a tense voice, “We just have to hope they don’t, Sam.”
“That’s a big risk, Dean…”
“Yeah but what other choice do we have here, Sam? What other choice do we have? If we leave more people are going to die. We need to stop this thing now before it can hurt anyone else.”
“And the demons…?”
“We’ll just have to keep a closer eye on each other Sam, and try to finish this thing as quickly as we can.”
He didn’t like it but knew that they had no other choice. They had to do this or more teenagers would lose their lives and that wasn’t an acceptable risk, so he nodded and simply said, “Okay, we finish this then we’re gone.”
Dean nodded in agreement.
* * * *
Later that day…
The research Sam had done before their arrival at Downingtown had listed several names of those who had recently died at the Downingtown tunnels including a Jane Doe who had yet to be identified. Each death had been recorded as a mysterious accident except for Jane Doe’s. She had clearly been murdered. Not sure of where to begin their search for more information after scouring the Internet they decided to begin interviewing those who had lost someone at the tunnels.
Arriving at the house of the first person on their list they knocked on the door and waited. When a stout middle age woman opened the door Dean smiled politely introducing, “Hello, Mrs. Anderson, we’re with the Sheriff’s Department. We came to ask you a few questions about…”
“Sheriff’s Department but…?”
“Are you the mother of Judith Anderson?”
“Well yes but she…”
Sam interceded, “We’re very sorry to bother you ma’me, but we needed to ask you a few questions about your daughter.”
“Judith, why…?”
“We’re in the middle of filing the paperwork on the case…”
“Case…? What case? My daughter’s death was an accident.”
“Yes ma’me, but we still need to file a report. We just need to tie up a few loose ends and then we’ll be on our way. Do you mind if we come in?”
“Oh…okay sure. Come on in officers.”
Nodding, they both thanked her before entering the house. Once inside Sam turned to her smiling gently as he said, “First, we would like to extend our condolences for your loss.”
Mrs. Anderson quickly lowered her head swallowing hard before responding, “Thank…thank you, officers,” her previously strong voice breaking ever so slightly as sorrow filled her. Shaking her head she raised her chin and pinned the officers with a determined look as she questioned, “What do you need to know?”
Sam kept his tone soothing as he inquired, “Ma’me, what can you tell me about Judith’s death?”
Mrs. Anderson didn’t speak at first only approached the fireplace before drawing a picture down off of the mantel. Dean approached looking over her shoulder at the picture of a pretty brunette and asked quietly, “Is that her, Mrs. Anderson?”
As she answered his question her hand absently stroked the picture frame her voice growing quiet, more hollow as she answered, “Yes. She was nineteen. She and a bunch of her friends decided to go to a party that night. They ended up at the tunnels.”
Sam spoke next asking, “What can you tell me about the tunnels, Mrs. Anderson?”
“Oh not much really, they’ve been there as long as I can remember, always had a nasty history that place... Violence, lots of violence occurred there. I warned her to stay away from those tunnels at night, but she didn’t listen. She was young and curious, fascinated by history and those tunnels…they have so much history to them.”
Dean looked up from the picture focusing on Mrs. Anderson as he questioned, “What happened?”
“To my Judith…? I don’t really know. They found her there the next morning said she’d fallen from the railroad tracks above the tunnels and…broke her neck.”
“Do you believe that’s what happened, Mrs. Anderson?”
Returning the picture to the mantel her voice raising an octave she responded, “Of course I do, my daughter was no strumpet.”
Sam interrupted, “Excuse me?”
Mrs. Anderson looked up at Sam as she began to explain, “My daughter was pregnant when she fell, she and the baby died instantly. The people of the town, they say it’s the curse…”
“The curse…?”
Nodding she continued, “She was an unwed mother you see…”
“And…?”
She studied the
Sam cleared his throat before replying, “Um refresh my memory, which story might you be referring to?”
She glanced at Dean then at Sam shaking her head as she continued, “They say a girl killed herself there, hung herself. She was driven from the town because of the child she had.”
“Child, what…?”
“Surely you’ve heard this story before…”
Exchanging a brief glance with Dean he responded with, “Uh no, not, not this one…,” relieved when Mrs. Anderson simply nodded before speaking again as understanding crossed her facial features, “Ah…”
Offering Dean a curious gaze Sam then returned his attention to the woman, “She got pregnant and gave birth to a little boy. She never married. The town is highly religious, fanatical if you ask me. They don’t take kindly to unwed mothers even to this day. Judith had to tolerate a lot of scrutiny and intolerance from them, but she was stronger than this girl.”
“Stronger than what girl, Mrs. Anderson…?”
“The one who killed herself in those tunnels, of course.”
“Oh,” nodding Sam encouraged her to continue.
“They say she couldn’t handle the pressure, the scorn so late one night she went to the top of those hills and hung herself. The child was with her and when she fell so did he.”
Sam and Dean exchanged another look both thinking the same thing: perhaps the deaths weren’t accidental after all but the result of a vengeful spirit striking out against the townspeople for the injustices they had caused. But why then would it strike at Judith Anderson? Her circumstances were so similar to that of the girls’ so why would it target her?
Dean spoke next, “You wouldn’t happen to know the name of the girl who…”
Mrs. Anderson offered him an incredulous look that had Dean stumbling over his own words and smiling awkwardly as he continued, “Um sorry. I was just curious. I’m kind of a history buff myself and…”
Sam loudly cleared his throat tossing Dean an exasperated look before abruptly interceding with, “Well, I believe that’s all we’ll need for right now, Mrs. Anderson. Thank you so much for your time. We’ll be in touch.”
“Oh…okay. Thank…thank you.”
They both smiled before exiting the house. As soon as they were some distance away Sam asked, “Dean, what the hell was that?”
“What? We need to know the identity of that girl in order to rid that tunnel of her spirit. I just thought she might possibly know it.”
“Dean, we were there to ask about her daughter not the girl who killed herself in those tunnels all those years ago.”
Dean shrugged as he continued, “It was worth a shot. We need to wrap this up quickly Sam and in order to do that we need to find out her identity.”
“By asking a grieving mother about it…? Dean, we don’t even know if this girl’s spirit is the one doing the haunting.”
“Unwed mother, scorned by the town, Judith Anderson’s case strikingly similar…I’d say there’s a good chance.”
Nodding in agreement Sam left the argument drop, “So vengeful spirit…”
“Yeah…”
“Dean, we need to…”
As Sam’s voice trailed off Dean cast a worried look his way opening his mouth to ask what was wrong when Sam said, “We need to get off the street, Dean.”
“What?”
Glancing around anxiously Sam felt unsettled and harshly snapped, “NOW!” cringing at the tone of his own voice, but it was enough to send Dean into motion. Approaching and unlocking the Impala he quickly lowered inside turning to Sam as he slid into the passenger seat demanding, “Sam, what’s going on with you?”
Continuing to scan the immediate area, Sam distractedly answered, “No time to explain. Let’s just go.”
Starting the car and shifting it into gear Dean muttered, “Okay, okay…” shaking his head as he pulled away from the curb.
Once on the road again Sam’s discomfort seemed to ease prompting Dean to ask again, “Sam, are you going to tell me what’s going on or…?”
“It’s just a feeling.”
“A feeling…? What feeling, Sam?”
Gazing out the window he said, “Like we’re being watched…”
“Watched? By who…?”
“I don’t know, Dean. I just know what I sensed.”
“What did you sense?”
“We were being watched, or rather you were. I’m sure of it.”
“Watched? You think I’m being watched?”
“Yes.”
“But…why?”
Sam turned irritated now unaware that his feelings reflected in his voice as he answered, “I don’t know, Dean, maybe it has something to do with the fact that there are demons presently searching for you.”
Nodding he replied, “Okay so we’ll just lay low for a bit and…”
“Lay low? Dean, an army of demons are hunting you and you want to lay low?”
Swallowing dryly he managed, “You got a better idea?”
“Yeah, I say we leave Downingtown…now.”
Cocking his head slightly to the right Dean answered, “We’ve already been over this, Sam. We can’t just leave, not yet.”
Aggravated Sam grumbled, “What, so we’re just going to sit here and let them come?”
“We’ve got work to do.”
He shook his head disappointed as he replied, “You’re playing with fire, Dean.”
Dean lifted his gaze to the rear view mirror a sudden far away look entering his eyes as he simply answered, “Yeah,” remembering all too clearly what it felt like to be burned…literally.
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