Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTER

xxxii. | they made me slow dance

"Yeah, uh, thanks for coming," Sam stated, patting Bobby on the shoulder as a welcome. "Come on in."

"Thank God you're here," Dean said, shaking Bobby's hand in welcome.

"So, um, what did you not want to talk to me on the phone about," Bobby asked, watching Emery as she sat beside Sam, his eyebrows furrowing.

"These two are fighting and of course I'm dragged into it," Emery scoffed, staring at Bobby, and avoiding Dean's angry eyes.

Sam ignored Emery, saying the semi-actual response. "It's this job we're working. We- we weren't sure you'd believe us."

Bobby scoffed. "Well, I can believe a lot."

"No, yeah, yeah. I know. It's just- we've never seen anything like it."

"Not even close," Dean cut in, looking solely on Bobby.

"And we thought we could use some fresh eyes."

"Well," Bobby said, looking between the three of them. "Why don't you begin at the beginning?"

"Yeah, um, alright, please." Sam said, everyone finding their own places in front of the older hunter. "So, it all started when we caught wind of an obit. See, a professor took a nosedive out of a fourth-story window. Only there is a campus legend that the building's haunted. So, we pretexted as reporters from the local paper."

(A/N: Italics mean that the story has started)

Sam and Emery sat at the bar table, talking to a bunch of college students about the professor. Sam pulled out a recorder, pushing the record button, before looking expectantly at the kids. Emery had a paper and pen, looking like she was ready to jot down notes.

"Yeah, we both had the Professor for Ethics and Morality," the male student stated, taking a drink from his beer.

"Yeah? So why do you think he did it?" Sam asked, looking at the two seriously.

"Who knows? He was tenured, wife and kids, his book was, like, a really big deal," there was a pause, both Emery and Sam looking at both of them nodding. "But, then again, whose to say it was suicide?"

"Jen, come on," the other student said to the girl, Jen.

"Well, what else could it be?" Emery asked, looking between the two.

"Well, you know about Crawford Hall."

"No, we don't, actually," Sam stated, sitting up in his chair, interested.

"It's a bunch of crap. It's totally an urban legend!" The male college student said.

"Yeah? Well, Heather's mom went to school here and she knew the girl," Jen defended, looking at her friend with a serious look.

"Wait, what girl?" Emery asked, straightening her back in interest.

"Like thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor. He broke it off. She jumped out the window and killed herself," Jen told them and her friend scoffed.

"You know her name?" Sam asked, looking at Jen expectantly.

"No, but they say she jumped from room 669. Get it, you turn the nine upside down," Jen stated. Emery wondered how she got through college, but then realized she probably had alcohol in her system. Still, she wasn't the brightest lightbulb in the batch. "So now she haunts the building. And anyone who sees her, they don't live to tell the tale."