Looking at the children in front of you, you took a deep breath and enjoyed the peaceful afternoon. Families walked by you as they minded their own business, dogs barked happily as they played on the grass, the sun shone brightly in the sky. It was the perfect day to be outside which is why you were sitting on the marble bench of a fountain. The wind made the light mist hit your body which cooled you down. Nothing could ruin this moment.
"You're getting stronger," a woman said from next to you. Looking over, you saw Amara watching the kids.
"Leave me alone," you sighed.
"I can't. You're my only vessel in the world. I need to know how you're doing."
"How can you have more than one vessel?"
"I didn't say anything about that," she chuckled.
"My mom said she was having dreams about you, nightmares. Was she your vessel too?"
"And her mom, and hers, and all their mothers before them," she nodded in confirmation.
"How?"
"I needed a vessel for when I get out. I happen to choose your bloodline from the very start. I turned average witches into the best ones. Your magic will help me achieve what I want most."
"And what is that?" you asked as she stared at you. She shook her head, and you knew you weren't going to get an answer from her.
"I need you to ignore what the Angels are saying about me. Forget what you think you know," she said just as she misted away.
Opening your eyes, your body still felt a little sore from the hunt you just got off of about two hours ago. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't get Amara out of your head. The number of dreams you've had of her was too many to count. Wherever she was, she was trying to get inside of your head which wasn't going to happen. The only reason you haven't told Sam and Dean about this because you didn't want them to worry about you.
Looking at the brothers, you saw Sam resting his head against the window pane while Dean was reading some papers, no doubt, about a case.
"What are you doing, Dean?" you asked with a sigh. At the sound of your voice, Sam woke up before checking the time on his watch.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked. Sam looked at you before shifting his gaze to his brother.
"Like you're looking for a job," he answered for you.
"Yahtzee." Groaning, you sat up before resting your elbow on the back of the front seat before resting your chin on your palm.
"We just finished a job like two hours ago."
"Adrenaline's still pumping, I guess. So, what do you think... Cedar Rapids, Tulsa, or Chi-Town?"
"I am all for working. I really am, but you got us chasing cases nonstop for like a month now. We need sleep," you yawned.
"Yeah, we can sleep when we're dead."
"You're exhausted, Dean," his brother chimed in.
"I'm good."
"No, you're not. You're running on fumes, and you can't run forever."
"And what am I running from?"
"From what you told us. Or are we pretending that never happened?" Sam asked, and you both stared at Dean, waiting for an answer.
"Stratton, Nebraska," Dean said after a pause. Looks like he isn't talking about it now. "Farm town. A man gets hacked to death in a locked room inside a locked house. No signs of forced entry."
"Sounds like a ghost," you sighed. Of course, he wouldn't talk about it now. Why would he?
"Yes, it does," Dean nodded. Sam groaned and rested his head back on the window before closing his eyes. Moving closer to Dean, you rested your chin on your hands which were laid out on the back of the front seat. Dean sighed as he thought about what his brother said, just as you kissed his jaw since that was the only thing you could reach. Pressing one more kiss to his cheek, you patted his shoulder in comfort.
"I love you," you whispered before laying back on the back seat. If he didn't want to talk about it, fine, but you were going to keep telling him that you were going to be there for him.
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It was almost the afternoon when Dean pulled up to the old two-story house. The yard needed to be worked on badly, but you figured whoever moved in next would take care of that. The only thing you loved about it was that it was vacant. The previous owners left, and no one has bought it since which meant an easy job for the three of you.
"Boy, three bedrooms, two baths, and one homicide. This place is gonna sell like hotcakes," Dean said as he walked into the abandoned house. Upon walking into the living room, the brothers checked out the place while you couldn't help but think there was someone or thing watching you. Looking around, your eyes landed on a vent that was stationed on the wall. Sam walked into the kitchen first with his brother trailing behind him, but when Dean didn't see you, he turned to see you staring at the vent.
"Sweetheart, you coming?"
"Yeah," you muttered just as you broke your gaze. Following him into the kitchen, you stared at the disgusting pale yellow on the walls. Whoever owns this house next, you hoped they had better taste. Sam and Dean began checking the cabinets while you looked at the wall. The paint looked messed up, as if there was something behind it. Walking over to it, you ran your hand over the creases in the shape of a large square.
"Hey, check this out," you commented, catching the brothers' attention. Knocking on the square, you figured out it was hollow which meant something was behind it.
"It's hollow," Dean observed.
"It's probably a dumbwaiter. All these old houses had them," Sam explained as he walked away.
"Know-it-all," Dean muttered which made you smile. Sam swiftly turned around since he obviously heard his brother in the empty room.
"What?"
"What?" Dean repeated, looking innocent.
"You said..."
"What?"
"Never mind," Sam rolled his eyes before leaving the room. Dean smirked which made you giggle.
"Dork," you chuckled, following the younger brother into another room. As soon as you walked in, Sam took out his EMF reader to try and get a feel of this place. As soon as he turned it on, the thing went crazy.
"Well, no bloodstains, fresh coat of paint, it's a bunch of bubkes," Dean sighed.
"Needle's all over the place," Sam said. Looking out the window, you saw a bunch of powerlines to charge the isolated houses out here.
"Yeah, power lines," you stated. Sam sighed and turned off the reader before opening a closet door. What he saw made him jump which made you want to go check it out. What you saw sent chills down your spine.
"Well, that's super-disturbing," you stared at the single hairless doll head.
"Think it got left behind?" Sam asked.
"By who? Unless Bill Gibson likes to play with doll heads," Dean groaned. Suddenly, the sound of two vehicles came from outside which made you look out the window. There, you saw a white car leading a moving van straight to the house.
"I thought you said this place was still for sale," you asked Sam.
"Apparently, it's not. Come on." Quickly abandoning the room, you maneuvered through the rooms to the front door and exited the house where you saw a young boy playing with a dog, and three adults and once female teenager unpacking the SUV. Just about to leave the house, you saw a white card on the floor that you must have missed when you walked in. Picking it up, you saw it was a business card for a cleaning service with a Mrs. Curry and her number on it. Knowing it might mean something, you pocketed it as you left the house.
"Who are they?" you heard the teenager ask as you walked down the front porch steps.
"Can I help you?" Brian, the father, asked.
"Hi. Are you the new owner?" Sam asked as all three of you too out the badges that will work on them.
"Yeah. You guys are...?"
"This is Mr. Stanwyk. I'm Mr. Babar. She is Ms. Watson. County code enforcement," Dean introduced the trio.
"We had the building inspected last week. Is there a problem?"
"Asbestos in the walls, a gas leak—yeah, I'd say we got a problem," you stated.
"Asbestos? Meaning what?" Susan, the mother, wondered.
"Meaning until this house is up to code, it's uninhabitable."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You're saying we can't stay here?"
"It's a health hazard. You don't want to."
"Hold up. We just drove four hundred miles," Ted, the uncle, started to say but Dean cut him off.
"There's a motel just down the road. Till this gets cleaned up, I suggest you stay there."
"Alright, and what if we don't?" Brian challenged.
"Well, you get a fine or you go to jail. Pick your poison," you said with a small smile. Brian sighed before looking at his family. When his wife shrugged, he made up his mind.
"One night. One night, and I'll take care of everything, ASAP, I promise."
"Yeah, you do that," Dean muttered.
"Another motel? Awesome, Dad. I hope this one has hooker sheets, like the last one," Kate, the teenager, said which got you surprised. Everyone started packing the car up, and you turned around to go back to the car to discuss this new development on the case.
"Great, we have one day to figure out what the hell is going on here. Where do we start?" Dean asked with a deep sigh.
"I'm guessing here," you said as you pulled out the card. "I found it on the floor. Assuming it got left behind by the previous owners, I suggest we start there."
"Good thinking," Dean smiled before the three of you got into the car. Better to get this started as soon as possible.
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"What did the room look like when you found it, Mrs. Curry?" Sam asked the woman once you found her house. One call was all it took to see her, but you knew she wasn't expecting you three.
"I already told the local boys, there was blood everywhere," she said through the screen door.
"And Mr. Gibson—where was he?" you asked.
"Everywhere."
"How long have you been cleaning Mr. Gibson's house?"
"About five years."
"So, you knew him pretty well."
"Well, not really well. He was really private. Not the easiest man. Not that I blame him."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"His wife dies in childbirth. Daughter hangs herself in the attic twenty years later. I'd be bitter, too. I think I got some pictures," she explained as she left the door, and returned with pictures of the daughter, his wife, and Mr. Gibson. She handed them to you before closing the screen door again.
"Thanks. Can we keep these?"
"Suit yourself."
"Now, why'd the daughter kill herself?" you asked.
"I don't know. That was before my time."
"Did you ever notice anything odd in the house when you were cleaning it?" Dean took over the questioning.
"Like what?"
"Like, you know, like lights going on and off, things not being where you left them, that sort of thing?"
"No. Well, maybe there was one thing."
"What's that?"
"Sometimes, I thought I heard like a... rustling in the walls, like a rat. But, I never saw any so it might have been just me."
"Do you happen to know where Mrs. Gibson and her daughter were buried?" Sam wondered.
"They were both cremated."
"Thank you for your time," you smiled before she shut the door. Walking back to the car, you thought what could be possessing the house.
"Alright. So, it probably wasn't the mom or the daughter. Whose ghost was it?" you asked.
"I don't know. But I say we give that place a real once-over and see," Dean declared and got into the car. Let's hope you can find out what happened before sundown. With that family out of the way, it made things easier for you.