This story is written by Alterra von Feures and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural.
Set after the end of Season 2. Dean and Sam goes after a creature that kills and feeds on young women. But, as Sam discovers, things get a bit more complicated than that when he finds himself attracted to one of the would be victims.
“At least I haven’t gulped down half a bottle of Jack Daniel’s”, Sam said as they locked the door behind them and headed of in the direction of the bar.
“What?” Dean asked, for a second wondering what the hell Sam was talking about.
“Back at the Blue Moon Motel, before Bobby called”, Sam specified. “You were sitting on the bed drinking whiskey as if it were Pepsi.”
Dean gave him a weary glance. “So?”
“So you are in no shape for driving.”
“At least I wasn’t the one almost smacking into a sheep”, Dean retorted. The he sighed. “Look, Sammy. I don’t want to fight with you. We have a job to do, remember? Let’s just get it over and done with and then I’ll be happy to play Dr Phil and Ophra with you.”
“No you wont”, Sam muttered as they continued walking down the dark and empty street. “You’ll just continuo pretending that everything is okay.”
Dean pretended not to hear.
As they approached the bar they could hear the sound of music blaring out into the night, a little muffled by the fog that still was thick enough to make them both feel strangely separated from the surrounding houses.
“Seems like my kind of place”, Dean said with a grin when he recognised the sound of Judas Priest’s Breaking the Law.
They opened the door and stepped inside.
Dean gave his coat lapel a James Dean shake as he walked inside grinning. “Target rich environment.” He drawled checking out a couple of lovelies standing at the end of a well worn counter.
“Yeah and your the broken arrow”, Sam smirked as they planted themselves at a table marred with cigarette burns.
“You’re a funny boy”, Dean grinned as he waved down a haggard young waitress. “A double shot of Jack, neat for me”, he said smoothly.
“A beer”, Sam replied when she looked at him. “There’s allot of girls in here”, he said his gaze roving over more than a dozen fairly young women.
‘Isn’t it great!” Dean added exuberantly.
“No Dean its not”, Sam returned lowering his voice as he leaned closer.
The waitress returned and Sam straightened up as she eyed them suspiciously. He cleared his throat and sat back.
“Beer for you …” she said handing Sam a tall glass, “double Jack neat for you.” She smiled warmly at Dean. Picking up the bills Dean flicked onto the table.
“Seriously Dean”, Sam was leaning against the table. “Isn’t it odd for this many young girls to be in here? I mean where are the guys?”
Dean motioned for the waitress again and when she returned to the table he gave her that charmer’s smile. “I’m not complaining or anything”, he said. “But where are all the men-folk?”
The girl moved her big lump of bubblegum from one cheek to the other before answering. “If you are into men you have to go to Studs down by the canal. That’s where all the gays hang out.”
“Not what I meant, sweetheart”, Dean replied. “Usually in a place like this there goes ten guys per gal.”
“Oh.” The girl looked around the bar with as if she had first noticed the lack of men. “I guess they’re all at the town hall, at the meeting. You know, because of the murders.”
“Murders?” Sam said.
“Yeah.” The girl popped her gum. “They found Laura’s body like last month. At first everyone thought it was an accident, but then they found Jenny’s body and now little Bronwyn’s.” Chew, chew, move the gum. Pop! “It’s really awful. And you know the worst part of it?” She continued, her eyes wide. “Mrs Miller says it looks as if someone has torn pieces of flesh from the bodies… with their teeth…” She whispered dramatically. “Like some sort of monster or something.”
“No!” Dean’s eyes widened in feign shock. Though the horror he felt and the compassion for the poor unfortunate victims were far from feign. “And who is Mrs Miller?”
“Sheriff Miller’s wife.”
“No wonder there’s a meeting”, Sam said.
“Thanks for the info, honey.” Dean winked at the waitress who actually blushed as she walked away. “Well”, he said, turning to his brother. “I’ve never heard about a poltergeist trying to eat people.”
“I’ve never known Bob to be wrong”, Sam replied.
“So what do you think we’re dealing with?” Dean asked.
Sam shrugged and took a swallow of beer. “What do you think?”
“It’s very uncommon for poltergeist to actually kill people, or sheep…” He ran his fingers through his hair, eyebrow knotted. “There is something familiar about all this.”
“The fog, the murders?” Sam asked.
“It reminds me of something I’ve read in dad’s diary.” Dean shook his head in annoyance. “I just can’t remember exactly what it is…” He took the glass and downed the amber liquid.
“Yeah, drinking more is going to help”, Sam commented wryly. “We should just go back to the motel room and check out dad’s dairy.”
“Not yet”, Dean said, eyeing the other customers.
“Why not?” Sam started, but then it dawned on him. “Oh, you are looking for that Marissa, aren’t you?”
“What if I am?” Dean replied with a shrug. “She seemed friendly enough. Maybe she could help us-”
“Help you, you mean”, Sam interrupted him.
Dean turned darkening eyes to him. “I thought we’ve already covered this.”
“We’ve covered nothing Dean absolutely nothing”, Sam stated sadly, downing his beer he rose up “I’m going to the head”, he mumbled without looking back.
Dean watched his lanky form shuffle towards the back of the bar, sitting back with a heavy sigh. He looked into his empty shot glass …haunting words tumbling across his bruised mind.
“Looks like you could use a friend”, the soft voice he already recognized said over him.
Dean looked up slowly to see Marissa standing with a skin hugging dress riding the higher side of her slender thighs. Her long black hair a soft silken mass over one shoulder contrasting against the crème coloured material, her perfect red lips curving into a generous smile.
“May I?” She asked of Sam’s vacated seat.
Sam was tired… so tired. He wanted to sleep but he couldn’t. What if he dreamed of someone else dying? What if he dreamed of i.
A flash of horrid yellow eyes flitted across his fragmented mind.
He stumbled over to the sink turning on the water he splashed his pale face over and over before reaching for a paper towel half blinded by the water.
He almost screeched like a girl when his hand met another.
“Sorry”, a small voice said. Sam turned to find a girl, maybe one or two years younger than him, standing beside him. “You looked like you where going to faint or something.”
“No…” He managed, recovering quickly. “I’m fine.”
“Wha-?” He looked down at the front of his jeans.
“Water, silly. Here.” The girl handed him a handful of paper. She was a short little thing with big blue eyes and that hair colour that the glossy fashion magazines call either golden copper or honey-red. She was very pretty.
“Aren’t you a little too young to hang out in a place like this?” Sam asked once he had dried off.
“Too young to be in the loo?” The girl asked innocently.
“Too young to be in a bar”, Sam corrected her.
She shrugged smoothly, eyeing him. “I could say the same about you. What’s your name?”
He hesitated for a split second recalling the cover-name Dean had given him. “Freddy Bates”, he said. “I’m here with my brother Jason.”
“Freddy and Jason Bates”, the girl said, a smile curling her lips. “Don’t tell me, you’re waiting for your brother Norman to join you and then you are all going over to Mike Mayer’s to party the night away. What’s your real name?”
Sam could actually feel a blush creeping up to colour his cheeks.
Dean leaned back in his chair, taking in the vision before him. Marissa was all milky skin, cream coloured silk and black hair.
“Like what you see?” she asked, her voice sensuous, her eyes never leaving his.
He smiled at her obvious invitation. “What is a girl like you doing in a small town like this?”
She pouted. “I was expecting a compliment…”
“Alright”, Dean leaned forward and took her hand, his fingers tracing a pattern over the silken skin of her wrist. “You are the most beautiful woman I have seen in a very long time”, he said. “And I’d love to know what your lips taste like.”
Sam couldn’t help but smile back suddenly, the colour rich across his pale cheeks.
“How about your name?” changing the subject on her. His hand going up to brace himself against the door jam. Leaning closer to her he breathed her in…
She looked him up and down brazenly, before her big blue eyes settled on his as she answered. “Stormy, and it is my real name… at least part of it.” She smiled again and for just a sweet moment Sam felt as if he could touch her… maybe kiss her…
He dropped his arm, turning away. “Nice to meet you, Stormy”, he mumbled on the way out. Ripping lean fingers through his damp hair he stopped cold as Dean leaned across their table planting a solid kiss to Marissa’s mouth.
“Wow…” she breathed against his lips. “You know what your doing don’t you… Jason.” Her heavenly eyes going golden green.
“How about a drink… Marissa”, Dean murmured back, a familiar tightness threatening the crotch of his black jeans as he shifted in his chair.
“Ill have whatever your having.” Her seductive voice followed by long tipped fingernails trailing up Deans arm.
Sam did a about face catching the surprised girl Stormy by the arm. Dragging her lithe form against his chest as she gasped. “Let me start over, my name is Sam, pleased to meet you. Can I kiss you, Stormy ?” He asked feeling like he was going crazy and she was an outlet…
Her mouth fell open, and what a pretty mouth it is, Sam thought, to form an O. “But I…” she started and then took a deep breath and started again. “Okay.”
He leaned in, struggling to keep his raging emotions in control, sensing that the girl, brazen though she appeared to be, still was quite innocent when it came to carnal pleasures. He pressed his lips gently against hers and felt her relax against him, leaning into his embrace.
Sam’s eyes fluttered close as she opened her mouth to him, allowing him to taste of her, to drink her deeply. When they parted it was her cheeks that was burning.
“Wow”, she said, taking an unsteady step back, her eyes deep pools of blue under fluttering eyelashes. “Nice to meet you, Sam.”
He grinned. Feeling like a normal young man for the first time since he had left the university. “Nice to meet you, Stormy.”
Her hand fluttered up to her collar bone where a small silver cross hung.
“Would you like something to drink?” Sam asked. “A beer?”
Stormy wrinkled her nose. “How about a coke? I’m saving my alcohol-début for another night.”
Sam found himself grinning at the dry remark. “A coke it is.” He offered her his arm like some gentleman in a romance novel, and felt silly when he realised what he did, but Stormy saved him by taking his hand in the most natural way, as if they had been friends and holding hands for years instead of just meeting for the first time.
As they re-entered the bar, Sam glanced at the table and found it empty.
“Who are you looking for?” Stormy asked.
Sam shook his head. “No one… that is to say my brother. I guess he found his entertainment for the night.”
Stormy turned to him. “Is that what I am?” She asked softly. “Entertainment?”
“No”, Sam said, looking down into her upturned face. “No”, he repeated softer. “You’re…” he smiled, trying to come up with the words that would describe what he had felt when he had kissed her. “You’re… My life is complicated”, he finally said. “And I wouldn’t want to drag you into it. It really felt good kissing you”, he hurridly continued. “Like a wonderful dream.”
Stormy smiled at this, and in her smile Sam thought he could see a flicker of something familiar but it was gone before he knew if he had seen it there or if it was just imagination.
“Buy me a coke and then let’s dance”, she said, leaning against him, raising up on the tip of her toes so that she could rest her head against his heart for just a second.