When Natural Meets the Supernatural (Supernatural Fanfic)

Episode 8: Lost Loves

"Our best seem to be dropping like flies," Cassie said with an undertone of resentment.

"Well, what exactly do you want me to do about that, Cassie?" The guy talked again, this time, with

"Well, first of all, you could close the road."

"Close the main road? Yeah, like we're going to do that. Cassie, accidents do happen."

"Did the cops check for additional denting to see if it was pushed?" Dean spoke up.

"Dean, Sam, and Scarlett Winchester. Family friends. Sam, Dean, Scarlett, this is mayor Harold Todd." Cassie introduced everyone.

I laughed internally for two reasons. First, because she said that I was related to Sam and Dean, which is completely hilarious because of recent events, which she isn't aware of, but is definitely an inside joke for the three of us. Second, because she thought that anyone would actually believe that Sam and Dean, who are guys with skin as white as the moon, are related to me.

I mean, maybe he won't notice. Maybe he's just a flaming idiot. Maybe he just thinks I'm tan.

"There were one set of tire tracks," the mayor explained, "one. Doesn't point to foulplay."

"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you," Cassie argued, "if you're indifferent-"

"Indifferent?" The mayor protested.

"Tell me this," Cassie interrupted, "would you close the roads if the victims were white?"

I like this girl. She's got guts.

"Are you suggesting I'm racist, Cassie?"

"Are you deflecting her completely valid question instead of answering it, Mayor?" I took Cassie's side.

Every single victim was black. There's no way that this has nothing to do with race, and instead of tackling the issue head on like he should be, the mayor is just twiddling his thumbs and acting like it isn't that big of a problem.

"I'm the last person you should talk to like that; just ask your mother." He walked away, just like that.

...

"I'll say this for her," Sam spoke, "she's fearless."

"Mmm-hmm," Dean and I both agreed.

"I bet she kicked your ass into place a couple of times," I added.

Dean just sent an annoyed look my way.

"What's interesting, is that you never really look at each other at the same time," Sam noticed, "you look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away... It's just, an interesting observation, you know, in an observationally interesting way..."

Dean practically shot daggers out of his eyes right at Sam.

...

Back at the motel, Sam and I decided to do some research.

Dean decided to "talk" to Cassie. Sam and I both knew what that meant.

It meant that we would get to have the motel room all to ourselves.

...

"Hey, Scarlett?"

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and I turned around to see Sam.

I glanced at the clock. Two thirty-six in the morning. 

Sam appears to not have gone to sleep yet.

"What's up, Sammy?"

"Have you ever been in a serious relationship?" He crawled into bed, right next to me.

I shook my head. "Serious relationships aren't really my kind of thing. What about you, with Jessica? Seemed pretty serious."

"Yeah," he smiled, "it was pretty serious with her. We were going to be getting married."

"Wow. You were goin' for the whole nine yards," I laughed, "white picket fence and everything. Did you want kids with her?"

"I'm not exactly opposed to the notion. If she wanted them, I would've gone for it. What about you?"

"I'm not the biggest fan of kids, but who the hell knows? Maybe someday I'll suddenly be in love with the notion, but that day is not today." I smiled up at him.

A couple moments of silence passed.

"Do you like anyone?" Sam looked at me.

Do you like anyone? What are we, kids?

"Not right now. Sixth grade's hard; I'd like to focus on my studies." I rolled my eyes at him.
"If you want to ask me a question, just ask it. Don't beat around the bush."

"Do you like Dean?"

"As a friend? Yeah. He's cool." I answered the question blatantly. He couldn't possibly think that I actually like Dean as more than that.

"Not as a friend."

I raised my eyebrows up at him. He was actually being serious. 

"I'm not into Dean like that. Why, because of the kiss? That meant nothing."

"Kisses never mean nothing. It had to have meant something, and if it did, I wanna know about it."

"Look, he's a great guy. Dean's sweet, he's smart, and he gets me; but there's something that he's not, and it's boyfriend material. I wouldn't risk our friendship like that."

"Just wanted to make sure."

...

The next day, we met Dean at the sight of the mayor's death.

"Hey, Dean," Sam began to ask, "where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the motel..."

"We all know what that means," I winked at Dean before imitating various sex noises.

"Shut up," Dean kept a straight face, "so, what happened?" Dean asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Every bone crushed, internal organs turned to pudding..." Sam began.

I finished Sam's sentence. "All the cops are stumped, but it's almost like something ran him over."

...

Later that day, we got an urgent call from Cassie. We came right over.

It turned out that there was a guy named Cyrus, a racist douche who almost killed Cassie's father. Cassie's father, named Martin, killed Cyrus in self-defense. Martin and his friends were all murdered by the ghost spirit that was left in Cyrus' truck. So, in order to get rid of the ghost, we had to get rid of the truck.

...

The car ride after we had solved the case was quiet.

"So, you two couldn't make it work?" I asked from the back seat.

"Uh uh," Dean spoke with a disappointed tone.

"Are you sad about that?" Dean looked at me from the mirror in the front seat and rolled his eyes.

"Things happen. Doesn't mean I need to cry 'bout it." 

...

I find it wildly ironic that Cassie dumped him before, for not caring enough,

when in realty, he cared too much and that's why the relationship ended.

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