"Well, it looks like he can't work his mojo just by twitching his nose, he's gotta use verbal commands," Dean noted as he pulled out on the road.
"The doctor had just gotten off his cell phone when he stepped in front of that bus. Andy must have called him or something," Sam theorized.
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Beg your pardon?"
"I just don't know if he's our guy, Sam," Dean told him.
"Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white Bronco, and you have doubts about this?"
"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all, you know. And O.J. was guilty," Dean defended his statement.
"I'm with Dean on this one. I didn't get murder vibes from him. He was kind of sweet." I told them. "Said he just wanted to take me on a date but that his friend just died. I got the vibe he'd just learned about it when we stopped."
"Either way, how are we going to track this guy down?" Sam asked, not thrilled about having both Dean and me against him.
"Oh, I've already figured that one out," I smiled.
---
Tracking down Andy's van was easy, and once we went through the car, all we learned was that he enjoyed some pretty heavy reading and getting high. It seemed like he lived in the back of the thing, and just like the outside was painted with a barbarian queen riding polar bears, the inside had a painted tiger. And a disco ball.
When we were done, our stakeout began. I ran down the street to get some burgers, and we ate while we waited. The conversation about whether or not it was Andy came up again. And you know what happens when you speak of the devil.
Andy appeared beside me, slamming his hands down and scaring the shit out of me. The one time I wasn't taking in my surroundings, mouth full of food.
"Hey! You think I haven't seen you three? Why are you following me?" He demanded to know. I swallowed the food and felt that annoying pressure inside my head again. I was just about to answer him when Sam spoke up instead, making me shut m mouth.
"Well, we're lawyers. See, a relative of yours has passed aw-"
"Tell the truth!" This time I could hear a dark undertone in his voice, like a deep growl echoing through my head.
"That's what I'm -" Sam began, but my words interrupted him.
"We hunt demons," I squeaked out. "And monsters."
"What?" Andy asked, shocked, staring at me.
"Will!" Sam hissed, and I shut my mouth.
"Demons, monsters, and spirits. Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Will used to help our dad hunt, and now she's helping us," Dean continued in my stead. "Sam here, he's my brother."
"Dean, shut up!" Sam continued to protest from the backseat.
"I'm trying." Even though Dean had a smile plastered on his face, he looked like he fought whatever was happening with every muscle in his body. "He's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see, he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself, 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And, I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right."
"Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone." When Andy said the last part, I heard the dark echo again, and I eagerly nodded, once again feeling like my brain had melted.
"Okay," Dean breathed out. He cringed and let his head drop to his hands with a grunt. I blinked, trying to understand.
"All right?" Andy turned his back on us and began to walk away, and Sam got out of the car, following him. Not understanding how he could go against what Andy told him to do, I watched in amazement from the front seat.
"What are you doing? Look, I, I said leave me alone. All right? Get out of here, just start driving and never stop." Sam didn't stop, he held his hands out in confidence.
"Doesn't seem to work on me, Andy."
"What?" Dean got out of the car, and I finally snapped out of the confusion and got out as well.
"You can make people do things, can't you? You can tell them what to think," Sam said, circling him. He had Andy right where he wanted him. He held out a hand, stopping Dean and me from coming any closer, and even though I wasn't compelled to listen, I happily did.
"Thank god," I mumbled under my breath. If it weren't for the fact that Andy seemed like a good guy, I'd be terrified. Forcing people to do what you wanted like that... It wasn't pleasant, and it sure as hell wasn't coming from anything good.
"Look, tha--" Andy laughed nervously, facing Sam. "that's crazy."
"It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, and then you got better at controlling it." Andy looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"How do you know all this?"
"Because the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities too. You see, we're connected, you and me." Sam stood tall against Andy's shorter frame, even if he was hanging down slightly to get eye contact when he spoke.
"You know what? Just, just, just, just get out of here," it took all of my willpower to stay when the echo reached me, even if I was a bit further away from them. "all right?!"
"Why did you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?" Sam pushed, and the thought that plagued me once again crossed my mind. If Andy wasn't the killer, that meant two persons walked around town with the ability to control minds.
"What?"
For a second, Sam cringed, and he looked to be in pain. I took a few steps forward, ready to help him. He looked like he was gonna collapse any second.
"Why did you kill him?" The hunter forced out.
"I didn't!" Andy exclaimed, defending himself. I ran forward as Sam put a hand to his head. He bent over, and Dean passed me and caught his brother before he hit the ground.
"Sam? What is it?" Dean asked, and not until then did I process what was happening. Sam was having a vision.
"Look, I didn't do anything to him," Andy stated and hunched down to make sure the youngest Winchester was okay. Not exactly what a guilty person would do.
"A woman. A woman burning alive," Sam managed between grunts of pain.
"What else'd you get?" I looked up at Dean, noting how he seemed to know just how to handle the situation. His hands stabilized his brother, and his eyes full of concern, but still knowing we needed the information.
"A gas station, a woman is gonna kill herself."
"What does he mean, going to? What is he, what is -"
"Shut up!" Dean snapped, and I snapped at the same time. Andy held his hands up in defense before turning his attention to Sam.
"She gets triggered by a call on her cell." Sam looked at Andy accusingly and held his casted hand out for Dean to help him up.
"When?" Dean asked and hooked his arm under Sam's while I took the other.
"I don't know," Sam grunted. "But as long as we keep our eyes on this son of a bitch he can't hurt her."
"I didn't hurt anybody," Andy persisted.
"Yeah, not yet."
"Sam, I don't think..." I cut myself off when I heard the sirens. We all turned to look towards the sound, and firetrucks hurried by down the street.
"Go," Sam instructed, looking between Dean and me. I hesitated, but when Dean gave me a look, I rolled my eyes and followed.
We got there just as the firefighters had put out the fire. The crisp corps on the ground resembled a pile of ash more than a woman. I looked back to see Dean on the phone, probably filling Sam in.
I spoke with the gas station owner, trying to get some information, when I noticed the tech store across the street. I grabbed Dean and pulled him with me.
"You're gonna buy a new computer for me," I informed him, and he rolled his eyes.
"Why don't you buy one yourself?" He protested.
"I'm broke, and unlike you, I don't use fake credit cards to pay for my shit." I looked back from where we came, scanning the faces before entering the shop. Dean scoffed when I picked one of the laptops.
"How do you get money? You always have cash."
"I work," I told him as he paid by the register.
"You get paid for hunting?" He looked at me skeptically, with a lazy smile telling me he was joking.
"Very funny," I told him, my voice void of humor. I opened the computer directly in the store, plugging it into the nearest wall to the owner's protests.
I ignored him, and Dean told him off while I sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and tapped at the keys.
Holly Becket, the woman who lit herself on fire, was forty-one and single. I found her work of employment, her home address, social security number, her tax returns, and the important fact that Holly Becket gave birth when she was eighteen, in 1983, the same day Andy was born, and put her twins up for adoption.
"This is as far as I can come," I sighed, annoyed. I looked up at Dean, who had watched me in silence during my research. "I tried to get a copy of the birth records, but they're hard copy only, sealed in the county office. Think Andy can get us in?"
---
"Probably shouldn't have let you, kids, in here," the old security guard hummed as Andy spoke to him.
"No, it'll all be fine. All right? Just go get a cup of coffee." The guard dad as he was told and left, and I couldn't help but feel uneasy knowing how it felt to be on the one stripped of free will. "These aren't the 'droids you're looking for," Andy hummed.
Dean started to grin like a little child on Christmas eve at his last comment, obviously enjoying the reference.
"Awesome."
Sam and Dean had already started pulling out boxes, and I worked on trying to find anything else that might help.
"I got it," Sam stated, staring at some papers in front of him.
"Yeah?" Dean asked, waiting for Sam to continue.
"Yeah. Andy, it's true. Holly Beckett was your birth mother."
"Huh. Does anyone have a Vicodin?" Andy asked, and I took the folder from Sam.
"Dr. Jennings was Holly's doctor. He oversaw the adoption. Both of them are tied back to you," I stated, letting my eyes fly over the letters in the file.
"Yeah, but I, I didn't kill them," Andy pushed, and I shook my head.
"I know."
"We believe you," Dean said, and to my satisfaction, Sam agreed.
"Since Holly Becket gave birth to twins, that must mean that your sibling has the same ability you do," I guessed. "Let me see... Ansen Weems from--"
"I have an evil twin," Andy interrupted me, looking like he was in the middle of a breakdown. I rolled my eyes and continued to read the file but soon handed it back to Sam and began to search for a picture of our very own Sith.
"Holly put you and your brother up for adoption. And you went to the Gallagher family, obviously, and your brother went to the Weems family from upstate." Sam read out loud, and I found his address.
"Andy, how you doin'? Still with us?" Dean asked.
"Um. What was my brother's name again?" Andy looked back at me.
"Ansen Weems. And he's got a local address," I filled in. "His drivers..." I stopped and stared at the picture on the driver's license I had pulled up. "Wait till you see this. I'm printing it now."
Dean walked over to the printer, waiting.
"He -- he lives here?" Andy wondered, still not over the fact that he had a twin.
"Let's get a look at him. Got his picture coming right now." The low humming of the printer stopped, and Dean picked up the piece of paper and then locked eyes with me. I nodded knowingly, staring at the same picture on my new computer.
"Hate to kick you while you're freaked," Dean commented, making Andy do a sound somewhere between a chuckle and a sob. "Take a look at that." Dean handed over the picture.
At first, I hadn't even recognized the guy, but now I was sure. It was a picture of Weber, the awkward bust-boy from the coffee we visited looking for Andy.
We hurried out and got into the car—Andy and I in the back.
While we discussed why Webber wouldn't just come up and talk to Andy, Sam had another vision. He twisted in pain, grunting. When he yelled out, Dean pulled over, and Sam struggled to get out.
"Sam? Sam!" Dean called. I quickly jumped out of the car and opened the door for him, placing my hands on his shoulders. Dean came up behind me, bending over me to help. "Sam!"
"Hey. Hey!"
"He's by a-- a bridge over a dam," Sam grunted in pain again, squeezing his eyes shut hard. "He's got Tracy, he wants her to jump over the edge."
"Tracy?" Andy asked, and the way he said her name reminded me of how my father used to say my mother's name. "Why would he have Tracy?"
"It's usual for psychopaths who fixated on something or someone to want to get rid of the competition. In his head, she's probably in the way of your relation." The words left my mouth before I had the time to sugarcoat it as usual. "We need to find him and waste him before it's too late."
"We can't just kill him!" Sam exclaimed, and I shot him a sharp look.
"I don't really see any other way this could go, Sam. He can take away people's free choice and what's even worse is he uses it to kill people." I stood back up, making Dean move to let me pass. I could see Andy looking at me with wide eyes from the back seat as if I was going to shoot him right then and there.
---
Dean stopped the Impala before we reached the bridge, ensuring we weren't spotted. Andy was the only one who lingered in the car while the rest of us went to the back as Dean popped the trunk.
"Will, Dean, you guys should stay back," Sam suggested, and relief washed over me when Dean agreed.
"No argument here. Had my head screwed with enough for one day."
"Amen," I mumbled.
Sam pulled out two handguns while Andy got out of the car. The hunter was just about to walk forward when the much smaller man stopped him.
"I'm coming with you."
"Andy, no." Sam shook his head, but Andy didn't give up.
"If it's Tracy out there ... then I'm coming."
With a huff, Sam looked over, and I nodded at him to bring him. Together they walked to the parked car up ahead.
Unable to actually help, Dean and I stood back and watched the scene unfold. It began with Sam dragging Weber out of the car while Andy helped Tracy out. I paced back and forth, feeling useless. Something didn't feel right, and two seconds after I thought that thought, Tracy picked up a large piece of wood and hit Sammy in the head. I watched as he fell down unconscious.
A hand on my shoulder stopped me from running over. Instead, I turned to find Dean holding a sniper rifle.
"We won't do any good over there. Let go." He practically dragged me with him into the forest, looking for higher ground.
"Dean, let me take the shot," I begged. Without slowing down, Dean turned and gave me a look. "We can't afford to miss, and I've been trained by the best."
Reluctantly Dean handed over the rifle, and we continued a few more paces.
I held the rifle in a firm grasp as I approached a spot with a good view. Dean's heavy footsteps snapped a branch behind me as I got into position on my stomach, aiming down at the scene.
I couldn't hear what they talked about, but Tracy was now standing on the edge of the dam, and Andy and Weber seemed to have a discussion. I loaded a round into the chamber with a klick that sounded louder than I'd wanted.
"Take the shot," Dean whispered, hunching down next to me, and when I looked through the telescopic sight, Weber turned to us. Even though he was far away, I could hear his words echo through my head.
"I see you. Bye-bye." He didn't need to say anything further. It was my time. I confidently sat up and flipped the rifle so that the muzzle aimed up under my chin.
"Will, stop!" Dean called out, and I felt his hands grab the weapon. I punched him hard, making him fall back, and I took a firmer grasp, and my finger slowly squeezed the trigger. Adrenaline tore through my body. I was going to do it. The pressure in my head grew as I fought the words, and a tear slid down my cheek when I realized I couldn't. I closed my eyes hard, and when the pressure became too much, my finger pulled the trigger the rest of the way. A shot rang out, and from the bridge, I heard what I thought was the echo.
I was dead. I was dead. I was dead. A breath of air seeped into my lungs. I opened my eyes slowly and blinked. Dean stood before me, his hand holding a firm grasp around the rifle, making sure the bullet just missed me. He had pulled the rifle just enough to make the muzzle point straight up instead of up my chin.
He'd just saved my life. My shaking hands let go of the rifle as I stared at him. I released an unsteady breath and found his eyes. They were the same color as the leaves on the trees around us. He sank down on his knees in front of me to be on the same level. Worry contorted his otherwise beautiful face.
He said something, but I couldn't make out the words; his lips moved, and he was so close I would have felt the vibrations of his deep voice if I had just touched his chest. He took my face in his hands and looked me over, ensuring I wasn't hurt. The blood rushing through my ears simmered down. My body began to shake violently.
"Hey!" he clapped his hands in front of me, making me blink. "Are you okay?"
"Is it done? Are they okay?" I couldn't bring myself to see what had happened.
"It's done. Weber is dead, Andy shot him."
I nodded slowly, still staring at him. Then my body acted on its own accord. My arms flew up around him, and I buried my head in his neck. He didn't hesitate to hug me back, his chin resting against the top of my head. "Thank you," I breathed out.
"Anytime, Willow."
I let go of him and gave him an embarrassed smile. "Sorry," I mumbled. "Adrenaline collapse."
His cocky smirk returned. "It's fine. Women throw themselves at me all the time."
"You keep telling yourself that." I patted his cheek and stood up on wobbly legs. "Fake it til you make it, right?"
Rescue and police crews arrived just in time for the sun to rise and us to get our story straight, even if Andy took care of the cops, convincing them Weber killed himself and that they were all witnesses.
"Look at him. He's getting better at it," Sam mumbled as we watched him. I was still trembling from the adrenaline rush of thinking I'd die, and Dean had an arm draped over my shoulders, keeping me close to steady me. I didn't complain.
Tracy sat by an ambulance getting checked out by medical personnel, and when Andy tried to get contact with her, she ignored him and looked away. He continued walking over to us.
"She won't even look at me," he commented sadly.
"Yeah, she's pretty shaken up," Sam agreed.
"No, it's, this is different." Andy elaborated. "It's, uh, I never, I never used my mind thing on her before. Before last night. She's scared of me now."
"I don't blame her. It's not a pleasant feeling," I gave him a look. "You saved her life, but dude, you need to stop using it. People have the right to their own free will." Dean's arm tightened around me, pulling me closer, noting the dislike in my voice.
Andy nodded, giving me an apologetic look.
"Hey, Andy, I hate to do this, but um, we have to get out of here. Here. I wrote down my cell." Sam handed over a piece of paper. "You don't have to be alone in this, all right? If anything comes up, just call me up." We began to walk away.
"Wha- what am I supposed to do now?" He looked stumped, lost even when we turned back to look at him.
"You be good, Andy," Dean told him firmly.
"Or we'll be back," I added, raising a brow. We continued our walk to the Impala, leaving Andy behind.
"You okay?" Dean pulled me closer to be able to whisper in my ear. A shudder went through me as his soft breath fanned the side of my face.
"Hmm." I nodded and kept my eyes trained on the car, unable to look at him for some reason.
"Looks like I was right," Sam stated, not noticing our little interaction.
"About what?" Dean asked in a gruff voice.
"Andy. He's a killer after all."
"No, he's a hero. He saved his girlfriend's life, he saved Will's life." I disagreed with the latter part of the statement. Dean was the one who had saved me. Andy was the one who stopped the mind control, but Dean forced that rifle back.
"Bottom line, last night, he wasted somebody," Sam continued to press.
"Yeah, but he's not a foaming-at-the-mouth psycho. He was just, he was pushed into that."
"Weber was pushed too, in his own way," Sam argued. "Max Miller was pushed. Hell, I was pushed by Jessica's death."
"What's your point, Sam?" Dean's arm fell from my shoulders as he stopped to talk to his brother.
"Right circumstances, everyone's capable of murder. Everyone. You know, maybe that's what the demon's doing. Pushing us. Finding ways to break us."
"He didn't do it out of malice," I argued. "There's a difference."
Sam looked off somewhere, deep in thought.
"Sam, we don't know what the demon wants, okay? Quit worrying about it," Dean told him, slapping his shoulder.
"You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am." Sam continued, not missing a beat.
"That was mind control! I mean, it's like, like, that's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count."
I was back to rolling my eyes and got into the car, laying down in the backseat.
"What?" Sam huffed.
"No. I'm, I'm calling do-over," Dean continued.
"What are you, seven?"
"Guys come on," I groaned.
"Doesn't matter. Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it," Dean concluded, making me nod.
"Yeah, I guess," Sam muttered and got into the car to the tune of Dean's ringing cellphone.
I flinched out of habit and began to look around, "I don't understand what's so wrong with following my rules," I mumbled under my breath—annoyed at my lack of control.
"Hello?" Dean answered. "Ellen. What's going on? Yeah, we'll be right there."
---
"Jo?" Ellen said, catching her daughter's attention.
"Hmm?"
"Go pull up another case of beer," Ellen told her and then continued to cut her daughter's complaints short. "Now. Please."
I drank deeply from my beer when Ellen leaned on the bar right in front of us. I looked over at the brothers, Sam in the middle and Dean on the other end.
"So. You uh, you want to tell me about this last hunt of yours?" The woman behind the bar asked.
"No. Not really. No offense, it's just kind of a family thing," Dean stated.
"Not anymore," Ellen shot back and slammed a folder full of papers on the bar disk. "I got this stuff from Ash.
"I'll kill him," I swore under my breath, just loud enough for everyone to hear. I'd been so sure Ash'd never tell any of my secrets. But here we were. He must really trust Ellen.
"Andrew Gallagher's house burnt down on his six-month birthday, just like your house. You think it was the demon both times, don't you? You think it went after Gallagher's family?" She continued.
"Yeah, we think so," Sam confirmed.
"Sam..." Dean warned.
"Why?" Ellen pushed.
"None of your business," Dean snapped. She turned to him and spoke in a low, dangerous voice and with an unforgiving glare.
"You mind your tongue with me, boy. This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming, and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best, all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here." It became quiet for a second.
"There are people out there, like Andy Gallagher, like me." Sam began, and I nudged his side, trying to get him to stop, but was ignored. "And um ... we all have some kind of ability."
"Ability?"
I looked around the room for anyone who might listen.
"Yeah. Psychic ability. Me, I have, um, I have visions. Premonitions. I don't know, it's, it's different for everybody. The demon said he had plans for people like us." I could feel my body tense more and more as we spoke about it.
"What kind of plans?"
"We don't really know for sure," Sam told her lowly. She looked alert. Ready.
"These people out there, these psychics -- they dangerous?"
"No," "Yes," Dean and I answered simultaneously.
"Not all of them." Dean pushed on.
"But some are. Some are very dangerous," Sam explained.
"Okay, how many of them are we looking at?" Ellen wanted to know.
"We've been able to track a clear pattern so far. They've all had house fires on the night of the kid's six-month birthday," Dean filled her in.
"We were wrong," I told them, running a hand down my face and noticing Jo back, packing up beers.
"What?" Dean asked, and all three looked at me, waiting for me to continue.
"Andy's adoptive mother burned on the ceiling. But Weber or Anseen or whatever he called had both adoptive parents alive until a year ago when they died in an unexplained car accident," I informed them. "No house fire, nothing out of the ordinary at six months."
"Which breaks pattern," Ellen concluded while I gulped down the rest of my beer and let the realization set in. "So if there's any others like him, there'd be nothing in the system. No way to track 'em all down."
"And so who knows how many of 'em are really out there?" Dean commented. We sat in silence.
"Jo, honey?" Ellen eventually called.
"Yeah?" The young blonde answered.
"You'd better break out the whiskey instead."