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CHAPTER 4
It seemed a moment frozen in time as Kaz stood and stared at the glossy picture in Dean's hand, the image of her dead mother. Shock shown on each of the Winchester's faces as the blood drained from the woman's, leaving her pale and fragile looking.
"Um…" Dean broke the moment and then stared at his Dad in desperation. He could think of nothing to say.
"Kaz." John touched the young woman's arm gently. "Can you sit for a moment?" He was scrambling to think how to handle her and how to take control of the situation. A few of the nearby diners were starting to stare and he didn't want that; too many questions. Kaz nodded to his relief, set the coffee pot on the table and sat heavily beside John. He pulled an ID from his jacket pocket.
"Kaz, I'm a Federal Agent." John held the badge out to her but she barely looked. "I'm here to investigate the disappearances, including your mothers."
Kaz reached over and took the picture from Dean, turning it to look as tears shined in her eyes but didn't fall. She studied the picture of her mom for a minute and then handed it to John. "You're not a Fed." She said softly.
"Kaz…" Dean started but she raised a hand, cutting him off.
"You didn't even blink at the ghost last night." She said, looking up at him and gave a small smile. "That's not normal. "I've met Feds. When Mom…when she died. You're nothing like them."
Sam elbowed Dean. "Ghost?" Dean gave him a look to say 'later' and Sam went back to his pancakes with a sigh.
"You're right." Dean said then and shook his head at the surprise on his Father's face. "She can handle it, Dad. She can." He said firmly and looked back to her. "Ghosts are kind of our thing."
She watched him carefully, looked at John and Sam and then down at her hands in her lap. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You're here for Mom." She breathed it softly and looked up at John. "It's her isn't it? Disappearing people?"
John watched her, impressed with her self-control and for once approved of a girl Dean was interested in. He nodded. "We think so. I'm sorry."
Kaz nodded carefully. "I think I knew." She wiped at a tear that escaped down her cheek.
"I have to ask. Do you have any idea where your mothers'…remains are?" John asked gently but still she flinched. She shook her head.
"No." Kaz closed her eyes for a second. "I don't think they looked very hard when they searched those woods. The cops, they thought maybe she'd run off or something, even after they found the…the blood." She shook her head sadly. "Idiots." She said angrily and then sighed heavily, looking up. "Sam, eat your pancakes." She said, calm again. Sam dug into his pancakes, not because he wanted them but because she wanted him too and he felt sorry for her, losing her mom the way she had. It touched something in his heart that was almost as old as he was. Confused, he made a show of taking a big mouthful and smiling around it at her.
Kaz smiled softly back at him before frowning. "I always figured they were looking in the wrong place." She looked meaningfully at Dean and Sam. "They should have been looking around the bridge."
"The Banshee bridge." Sam nodded, agreeing. He thought it felt right though he couldn't say why.
"It's practically in the middle of those woods, crossing the Canal." She rubbed a hand over her face and stood. "I have to get back to work."
"You okay?" Dean asked and smiled sadly up at her. Like Sam, he now felt a similar connection to this girl who'd lost her mother to the supernatural.
"I will be. Please." She looked at John, a pleading look in her eyes. "Lay my Mom to rest?"
"We will." John promised and meant it.
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"So what about this ghost?" Sam asked from the back seat of the Impala and tapped Dean on the shoulder.
"Yeah I'm interested too." John glanced at his oldest with raised brows.
"It's just a ghost. Didn't even do anything." Dean shrugged. "I couldn't exactly go after Casper with the salt gun with Kaz there."
"Which would have been irresponsible to begin with." John frowned over at him. "You know better than to go off after something without doing the time on research and prep first. I know I've taught you better than that."
Dean looked down for a moment, shamed. "Geez, Dad. I wouldn't be that stupid ok?" John only gave him 'Dad' face, the one that said he wasn't sure his son wouldn't have gone off halfcocked if not for the girl. Dean turned away to look out the window and roll his eyes where his Dad couldn't see it. "So the ghost. There's definitely some anger there. Hell I could feel that at the bottom of the hill but he didn't do anything. Just stood up top and, you know, glared at us."
"We'll look into it once we get the Banshee." John said firmly. "May not have hurt anyone yet, doesn't mean he wont. Ghosts' a ghost."
"Yes, sir." Dean nodded.
"Now." John looked into the rear-view and caught Sam's eyes. "Sammy, you're in the car for this one."
"But, Dad…" Sam argued.
"No, Sammy. You're not a hundred percent. Be happy I don't drop you back at the motel." John said firmly and waited for the bad tempered nod of acceptance from his youngest. He and Dean both were training Sam and he was coming along quickly. It wouldn't be long at all until he was following them along on every hunt, taking his place and John looked forward to that day even as it scared him. For now, he was still a kid and an injured one at that. John was well aware how it chafed Sam to be left behind now he was learning to hunt and wanted so badly to be with his big brother.
"Dad I could keep an eye on him." Dean said softly and John rolled his own eyes.
"And have you divide your attention between your brother and a murderous spirit? I don't think so." John glared at him. "That's the third time today you've made me question your level of responsibility. You don't want to go for a fourth, son."
"Dad…" Dean groaned.
"Get your head in the game, Dean." John ordered as he turned onto a wooded lane and into the woods where the victims had gone missing. They'd had a quick take out lunch after making another pass at researching who had originally killed Mrs. Morrigan. As before, they'd come up empty. It was one of the reasons the police had been so sure she'd run off. There was no evidence of a killer. That pinged lightly on his radar as they drove through the shadowed woods, the late afternoon sun dappling the cracked cement as the Impala growled along.
"There it is, Dad." Sam's arm appeared along his Dad's cheek, pointing at the arch of dark green that began to appear through the trees. "That has to be the bridge."
"Don't distract the driver, runt." Dean mock growled and grabbed Sam's arm, tossing it back at him.
"Jerk." Sam retorted and reached up to flick his brother in the ear. Their Dad growled and the boys subsided with amused looks at each other.
John pulled off the road just before the bridge and came to a stop against the trees. "Sammy, you can help us search for a grave site." He looked at his watch, considering. "For an hour then you're back in the car til we're done."
Sam grinned, excited and happy that his father had relented, trusted him enough to let him help at least this much. "Thanks, Dad."
John smiled and shook his head at himself. He'd seen Sammy's patented puppy dog eyes in the rear-view and been helpless, unable to cut him out of the hunt completely despite his better judgment. "Don't make regret it, Sammy."
Dean chuckled and got out of the car with his father and brother. "I'll keep him in line."
"We will both will, Ace." John strode to the trunk, throwing it open and revealing the hidden arsenal. He handed a shovel and shotgun to Dean, took one of each for himself and pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Then he handed a third sawed off shotgun to Sam.
"You know the drill, Sam." John said as Sam took the proffered weapon. "Safety on until you need it."
"I know, Dad." Sam groaned. He held the barrel awkwardly for a moment with his left hand as his stitches stung.
"You good, Sammy?" Dean asked. Their Dad had already turned toward the bridge so didn't see the tightening of pain around Sam's eyes.
"Yeah, Dean." Sam nodded. Dean gave him a gentle shove towards their Dad with a smile and resolved to keep a close eye on him.
The Banshee bridge suited its name as the Winchesters stepped onto its aging span. It was an old, iron bridge of the kind no one made anymore. It arched up and over the wide, brown waters of the Erie canal. Sam had thought it was painted green but as he walked close to one of the wide support beams he saw that the metal had oxidized over the decades.
"You boys take this side of the canal. I'll cross and search the other side." John nodded at Dean. "One hour then get Sam back in the car and meet me here."
"Yes, sir." Dean checked his watch. "See you in an hour."
"Be careful boys." John said seriously and strode off towards the other side, boots ringing against the metal.
"You think the Banshee can come up here on the bridge?" Sam asked, following Dean toward the woods.
"Nah. She's a ghost and that bridge is solid iron." Dean assured him. Sam nodded but still wondered just how safe it would be. It wasn't like they could toss it at her. He pulled his wandering mind back to the woods as he and Dean began a systematic search of the area around the bridge. The woods were dense. Even though it was still daylight the thick, summer foliage darkened everything and cooled the summer heat into something pleasant. They found several spots where the ground had been disturbed but no bones apart from an unfortunate squirrel.
"This sucks." Dean groaned, climbing out of his third hole. He swiped a dirty arm across his face and into spiky, dirty blonde hair. "She's gotta be around here somewhere."
"We should look by the bridge." Sam shouldered his gun now Dean was out of the hole and picked up his own again along with the shovel. "Honest, I just feel like she's there."
"Yeah, maybe." Dean turned toward where he knew the bridge to be and frowned. Sam's feelings were rarely wrong. He looked down at his watch then. "Time's up. Dad and I will check it out. Come on, Tiger."
"Aww." Sam moaned. He wanted desperately to stay with Dean but night was falling and he knew his Dad would stick to his orders.
They trudged through the forest back to the car, both quiet and alert. Dean stayed within arm's reach of his brother. Night was coming, he could feel it. He felt a tension building in him as the sun crept further to the earth. The world dimmed and he wanted Sam in the safety of the car before the sun was gone. Dean breathed his relief at the comforting sight of the Impala through the trees. They reached the car and he opened the passenger door.
"Stay alert, Sammy." Dean watched him slide into the seat, gun across his lap.
"I've got my gun." Sam said and smiled in reassurance. "I'll be fine. You'd better go before Dad has to find you."
Dean laughed and reached in to ruffle Sam's hair before closing the door. Sam watched Dean stride confidently toward the bridge and smiled. Rather than fume at being left behind, he preferred to think of himself as protecting the car; Dean's baby. Dean loved the Impala maybe more than their Dad and that was saying something.
He could just see Dean outlined against the quickly fading sky. Far off across the bridge Sam saw a shadow crossing and knew from the way it moved, it was their Dad. He saw them meet in the middle. Dean turned and gave Sam a wave and then they headed away, across to other side once more. Sam fidgeted in the set, checking and rechecking his shotgun. He popped open the glove box to make sure the flask of holy water was there in case he needed it. Now that he was truly alone, the nerves he hadn't felt earlier while Dean was with him came to assail him. If something happened, how would he know? What if they were hurt? What if they never came back? He dug in his pocket for his cell phone and was relieved when he pulled it out. He set it beside him on the seat and looked out to the bridge again. Night had truly fallen now. The sky over the bridge and above the trees was darkening from deep blue to black and slowly color leeched out of the world, leaving behind varied shades of black and grey.
Sam stared watchfully around the woods near the car and across the road. His eyes kept straying to the bridge, hoping to see two shadows coming back to him. It was still and quiet. He strained his ears and rolled the window down a crack. "It's too quiet." Sam said softly and felt his skin prickle. The forest had gone silent. The crickets had stilled, the owl that had been mournfully hooting a few minutes ago had stopped. Even the breeze seemed to slow leaving only the gentle lapping of water from down in the canal to carry through the night.
Sam clutched his shotgun tighter and began silently calling for his father and brother. He wanted them to come back now, needed them too. Every fiber of his being was vibrating with the certain knowledge that everything was about to go pear shaped. He put his hand on the door handle, then took it off, then grabbed the handle again and suffered. If he left the car, his Dad would never forgive him. If he found them and nothing had happened, he'd be doing laps for a month. If he stayed and they were hurt…Sam groaned and pulled the handle, opening the door.
He looked up and froze, seeing movement on the bridge. Sam peered through the windshield and then gasped in relief when he saw two shadows coming back across the bridge. He pulled the door shut quickly and grinned. They were safe, they were fine and they were coming back to him. Sam watched as they got closer and closer. They were nearly across and then, as he'd feared, it went sideways. He wrenched the door open, lurching out of the car and yelled.
"Dad! Dean! Watch out!" Sam cried. Behind his family, a ghostly apparition was forming on the bridge. She was cloaked in white, long red hair waved about her as if in a breeze. Her feet floated just above the metal of the bridge. Sam ducked around the door and ran for his brother and Dad.
The Banshee reached as John and Dean were distracted watching Sam. She ripped the shovel out of John's hands. He gasped and whirled, bringing his gun up a second too late as the shovel cracked him in the head. He felt himself thrown. Felt his feet catch briefly on the side of the bridge and then mercifully passed out as he fell away.
"DAD!" Dean shouted and took aim at the Banshee as half his father's shovel spun off onto the bridge with a clatter. She flickered away as he shot and missed. A moment later she appeared behind him. Dean whirled, rage in his eyes and worry in his heart. He jacked a fresh round into the chamber but couldn't duck the broken handle of the shovel as she stabbed it into his shoulder and yanked it back. The pain swallowed him as he felt warm blood gushing to cover his chest. He dropped to a knee, gasping; the gun fell from his nerveless fingers and he looked up into her ethereal face.
Dean's eyes opened wide in surprise as she dissipated in a cloud of light and smoke, the sound of a shotgun loud in his ears. Beyond the Banshee as she vanished he saw Sam; His little brother, gun raised and running full tilt toward him.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, fear on his face and Dean wanted to comfort him. He wanted to tell Sam that everything was alright but his body wouldn't cooperate. He felt himself slipping sideways and the last thing he saw were the feet of his brother before he closed his eyes and floated away.
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