Chapter Text
The engine roared loudly over the storm outside, rain falling on the car and the road like water fell from the shower head. Sam was trying his best to get some sleep, knowing that when they eventually reached their destination, they’d have to get to work as fast as possible. People were disappearing in a small town in Michigan, and there have already been eight missing persons’ reports over a week. Whatever was doing that kidnapping, possibly murdering, was working fast. Sam and Dean plan to stop it though, but for that to happen, and in order to save as many people from what’s coming for them, sleep was inevitable.
Still, Sam has been squirming in his seat for the past three hours, and no matter what kind of position he tried, not like there were many in the passenger seat of a car, he couldn’t fall asleep. Which was not only annoying, but somehow tiring, and the fact that he was hurting from the first trial didn’t help. So he yawned, rubbing at his eyes tiredly, then tried to stretch his back as much as he could in the too small car for his big body, before turning to Dean.
“Hey, so, I still don’t get it. I mean, I understand that the police are usually blind when it comes to monsters, or supernatural related crimes, but this is just too odd. How come they’re pretending that it’s a normal case?” he asked, already knowing the answer, but he just needed to talk. Anything would do and he even thought about asking his brother how far they were from a motel, but he already asked an hour ago, and he didn’t want to seem like a kid. Not in front of his pain in the ass big brother.
“You know why,” came Dean’s grumpy voice, followed by a sigh. “These people aren’t used to this amount of people missing, so if some of them start blabbing about seeing the dead, they aren’t going to pay much attention. Probably just the stress, that’s what they’d say,” he nodded as an emphasis, his eyes still on the road as he stared straight ahead, frowning just slightly, as if he was concentrating on something very important painted on the asphalt.
Dean has been like that the whole way from Indiana, like someone stuck a rod up his ass and forced him to drive seven hours straight without stopping. They did stop, of course, however it was only once when they got some food and relieved themselves. Sam knew why his brother was like that, too. The thought of more people dying while they take a little rest, someone getting torn to shreds while they are eating peacefully is something that drives a man on. But at the same time, Dean wouldn’t be of much use in his grumpy, sleep deprived state, so Sam decided to give negotiating with his brother a shot.
“Yeah, right. Anyway, Dean, I think that we should really stop,” Sam started, seeing how his brother’s frown deepened. “Listen, I don’t know how far we’re from the town, but we’ve been on the road for hours now, and you know that we need sleep.”
“Well, if you want to sleep then just go ahead. I know you need it. I’ll wake you up when we’re there,” Dean said without batting an eye, still staring at the road.
“Dean, I’m thinking that you should get some sleep. Me too, but I’m not the one driving for, what, eight hours straight? Come on, you need to rest,” he pushed on, using his voice that usually only angered Dean even more, but also worked. And thankfully, this time wasn’t any different. His big brother rubbed his face, blinking rapidly as he visibly relaxed his grip on the wheel, shoulders slouching a little.
“Yeah, yeah I know. Just wait a little, will you? We’re like an hour from town, I swear, and when we’ll get there, I’m gonna sack out, ‘kay?” Dean glanced at his little brother from the corner of his eyes, Sam watching him intently for a moment before nodding and leaning back in his seat.
“Yeah, okay.”
They drove for half an hour before finally finding a place to crash. This particular motel wasn’t any better than the last ones, still had dubious stains on the walls and mattress, and even on the ceiling. But it had two beds, hot water and a roof over their head so it was better than nothing. Dean gave him a worn out look as he told Sam to get their stuff out of the car, then dropped on the bed with a groan and was practically out the second his head hit the pillow. Sam was also stone tired, but managed to get their duffels and other stuff out of the car before locking the door and joining his brother in a probably quick sleep.
*
Next morning, Sam was woken by the sound of running water. Shower. His eyes fluttered open, looking around the room before slowly sitting up on the bed, feeling a bit groggy. Looking at his brother’s empty bed, his brain started working. Dean must be showering, which was something Sam needed too, knowing how he must smell. He got up and knocked on the bathroom door, asking, “How long?”
“Gimme five,” came a slightly muffled voice. Sam debated what to do, if he should go and get them some breakfast before or after taking a shower, but then decided on the latter. He quickly made their bed and took out the printed copies of the newspaper, fixing them neatly on the wall.
It was time to hunt.
*
After they were both clean and well nourished, the hunters sat in the car, outside the police station. Wearing suits and ties, ready for the job.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Dean said, getting out of the car, Sam following him as they walked into the station. They soon found the man they were looking for, a guy called Gordon or something, though he looked nothing like the psycho hunter they knew from all those years back. This fella was short and pudgy, white and a bit pale from possible overwork, the few strands of hair on his head sticking in many directions. He nodded at them, beckoning the ‘agents’ into his office, which was full of papers and whatnots, the far wall having many boxes of food stacked up on each other.
“Agents,” the corporal cleared his throat, glancing from Sam to Dean. “Young and Evans, right? I’m Corporal Bailey, and honestly, I feel relieved to know the FBI is here.”
“We’ll do anything in our power to help, Corporal. Now, would you mind explaining the situation in further detail?” Dean, or as the policeman knew, Agent Evans, asked as he skimmed through the papers, passing them to Sam instead who read them carefully.
“Well agents, it all started out with the disappearance of the family restaurant owner, Simmons. Then seven more people just straight up vanished, and the town is going crazy, seeing ghosts and even some of the kidnapped people.”
“Kidnapped? So you’re sure that they are still alive?” Sam cut the man off, glancing up from the papers. Corporal Bailey sighed, looking from left to right before leaning closer and shaking his head.
“Honestly boys, I’m pretty sure that they’re all dead. People don’t just disappear like that, without a trace, without ransom demands or anything. If you ask me, there’s only a slim chance that those poor souls are still alive an’ kicking, but we need to reassure the townsfolk, if you know what I mean.”
“To avoid panic, yeah.” Dean nodded, then Sam motioned towards a different paper on the table, nearly completely hidden beneath all the other ones. “What’s that one?” he asked, feeling Dean’s eyes on him, but he was pretty sure that he found the jackpot.
The corporal raised an eyebrow and pulled the file that the paper belonged to, handing it to the hunter. “This? This is the murders of Nancy and Andrew Jacobs.”
“The ghosts your people saw,” Dean frowned, and from the glint in his eyes, Sam knew that his brother caught up with what he was thinking.
“Yes,” Corporal Bailey leaned against the table, running his meaty fingers through whatever was left of his hair. “Those two were murdered a few days before the disappearances began. We held a funeral, most of the townsfolk came because these two were respected and good people, also a sweet wife and husband. Then some people start making frantic phone calls that they saw either Nancy or Andrew, totally freaking out over the phone, and some even came down the station. Oh, and the best part is that one man even suspects them. For the disappearances.”
That caught both of their attention, and they exchanged a look before Dean asked the man, “What exactly do you mean, he suspects them?”
“Like, he suspects them. That they were the ones taking all those poor people. See, he lives next to one of the missing person, and said he saw Nancy knock at the guy’s door. Went inside but never left,” the corporal rolled his eyes, scoffing. “Drunk bastard, trying to spread ghost stories.”
“But he wasn’t the only one who saw them, right?”
“Yeah, aside from Jonny, many other people ‘caught glimpses’ at the grocery store and the park, but never saw their face. I swear this town is going crazy. We’re a small, quiet town, not used to this, so I hope that you agents can take care of this for us, as fast as possible,” he said, before excusing himself and, after giving the agents all the files and papers they asked for, he politely kicked them out of his office.
Sam and Dean walked back to the car, silently, then when they got in, Sam opened the files and looked at his brother. “So I’m thinking…shifter?”
“That, or-“ Dean paused, pulling a picture out of the file and showing it to Sam. “Ghoul.”
Sam pulled a face as he took the picture from his brother. It was a police shot of two people, their body, or whatever remained of it, mutilated. There were bloody gashes and gaping holes in their stomach and neck, the woman’s arms gone while the man was missing his…ass. Well, that was weird. It looked like something ate from them, and it wasn’t nice and clean about it, either. He gave the picture back to Dean and tried to snatch the rest of the files from him, but his brother slapped his hand away, glaring at him like a kid whose candy was about to get stolen. “Hey, you got your own. This is mine,” he barked, resuming looking through the files while watching his little brother from the corner of his eyes.
Sam raised his eyebrows, staring at Dean for a moment before shaking his head and going back to his own files, the ones about the disappearances. After a few minutes of silence, he finally looked back at Dean and asked, “So, where do we start, thou who has the important papers?”
Dean grinned at him, closing the file. “Well, I’d say we go talk to the town drunk, Jonny.”
*
A short drive, an exchange of badges and a few drunken suspicious looks later, Sam and Dean were sitting on a couch that looked worse that their motel room, talking to Jonny, whose real name was John Johnson. Dean was visibly trying not to laugh when he introduced himself, and Sam managed to hide his amusement behind a thin lipped smile.
“So, you said you’re cops?” Jonny asked, taking a swig from the bottle of beer, which seemed like the only decoration this room had. Bottles of different kind of alcohol, but mostly beer, were scattered all around the room, on the table, and Sam was pretty sure that there was one under the couch cushion where he was sitting.
Dean nodded, trying not to look irritated as he scooted closer to Sam in order to escape the way too green chewing gum stuck to the couch. “Yes, and we have some questions. Please tell us what you saw that day when-“
“Ghost!” the drunk cut him off, looking at them with comically wide eyes and making some odd hand motions with the bottle still in his hand. “It was a ghost, of none other than the chick, Nancy. I saw it! I’m sure of it!”
“We believe you, Jonny, just tell us exactly what happened. Every detail is important,” Sam said, urging the man to hurry up because he didn’t want to stay here any longer than his brother, who was squirming uncomfortably next to him and brushing their knees together more often than necessary.
“Yes, good. I told them I wasn’t insane, but nobody listens to a drunkard,” the man shook his head, his sweaty and greasy hair that hung in small chunks on his head swinging from side to side and just ew. “I was about to go outside, take out the trash when I saw her from my window. There she was, Nancy Jacobs, dead Nancy, standing on the porch and knocking on my neighbor’s door. But she didn’t look dead! She looked just fine, like, you know, she wasn’t dead! And I watch, as the guy, called Shane or Shaun or whatever opens the door and talks to her! He seemed just as surprised as me, but after a long talk, he let her inside. And then she never came out, never left and the next day the guy goes missing! I’m telling you, the woman was a ghost, and I bet that she took the guy when she entered his house.”
They frowned in unison, and Sam nodded slowly, glancing at the window. “Which house was it that the man was taken from?” he asked, standing up and discreetly dusting his rear off. He wasn’t that big of a germ freak, but seeing how even Dean looked extremely uncomfortable, they were both going to burn these suits or at least wash them with bleach.
Jonny sprung to his feet, swaying a little as he stood, then walked to the small window by the far end of the room, pointing at a bluish house. “That one.”
“Thank you, Jonny. We, uh, appreciate your cooperation,” Sam said, fishing a business card out from his pocket and gave it to the man. “Call us, if anything unusual happens.”
“Will do, misters,” he said, grinning and showing of his slightly rotten teeth as they walked out of the house.
The moment they were far away and out of earshot, Dean shuddered and pulled a face as he looked down at himself. “Dude, I don’t wanna sit in my car like this! The…blerch is going to rub off onto the seats.”
“I know,” Sam agreed, sighing as he opened the door. “We’ll bleach the seats later. And our suits. And possibly our bodies. But for now, I think we’re gonna have to wait with that.”
“So, what now? We come back at night and sweep the place?” Dean asked, reluctantly sitting behind the wheel, looking stiff and uncomfortable as hell.
“Yeah, sounds good. And while we wait, I think we should take a look at the bodies.”
“You mean the buried bodies?”
“Yeah.”
Dean sighed, letting his head fall on the wheel. “I don’t wanna dig up a grave, I’ve had my share of disgusting today,” he complained.
“Oh, stop whining,” Sam grinned, letting out a small laugh when he saw the murderous look in his brother’s eyes as he started the engine.
“We better find the ghoul, or ghouls that are doing this quick, so that I can take my rage out on them. Oh yeah,” he mumbled, and skillfully ignored his little brother’s comment, something about the incredible Hulk.
*
They decided to split up instead, as digging up a grave in broad daylight might be a bit unsettling. And very fucking stupid. So, logically, Sam took the graveyard and Dean the neighbor.
Sam sighed, putting the shovel in his duffel, before he shouldered the bag and walked out of the motel room, back to the car. “I don’t wanna dig up a grave alone.”
“Oh, who’s bitching now?” Dean mocked, grinning from ear to ear as Sam glared at him, giving his brother the bitch face.
“Dude, I’m not. You were bitching about digging up a grave in general, but I’m complaining about digging up a grave alone. There’s a difference.”
“Yeah, sure. Bitch,” he chuckled, his grin only widening when Sam punched his arm when he got into the car.
“Jerk,” he mumbled and looked out the window.
*
Sam hated his brother.
Seriously.
Digging up a grave together was hard enough, and now he had to dig up two, all alone.
Yep, he hated Dean.
“Fuck!” he cursed as he nearly tripped and fell into the hole. He already dug up one of the bodies, the woman, judging from the remains of her body. And she wasn’t going anywhere, so the possibility of her being a zombie was quickly eliminated. She was pretty dead. He performed a quick autopsy on her, but after a few days of rotting, he felt like even though he was wearing gloves, the putrid smell was going to etch itself into his skin. Shuddering, he climbed back into the smaller hole that he only just started, his brain getting back to work.
The woman’s body was clearly eaten from. He found slight, but visible teeth marks at some of the wounds, and they didn’t look like fang, just normal teeth marks. The force used to break her bones and to rip out the flesh was more than human, though, so it couldn’t be just a sick freak. And by the way how most of her organs were missing, possibly eaten, and she looked way too pale, even for a corpse, possibly drained, the thing was hungry.
So, adding all that up with the fact that she has been seen with one of the missing person, meant that Dean was right. This must have been the work of a ghoul, or maybe more. Though Sam really doubted that there were more than one, since if there were, there would have been nothing left of her body. But then again, maybe that’s why there are so many disappearances. Because there’s no body left to find.
As his shovel hit the top of wooden coffin, Sam heard a noise. He froze, quickly glancing around but he couldn’t see anyone. Listening for more noises, he stood still for a few moments before going back to digging and then, just before he would have opened the coffin, he heard it again. At first, Sam though that it came from inside, but when he quickly opened it and pulled his shovel up in a striking position, he was only greeted by the rotting smell of the corpse and, well, a very dead looking corpse. So the noise wasn’t coming from there.
And then he heard it again.
He tightened his grip on the wooden shaft of the shovel before climbing out of the hole, and listened carefully. Standing very still, Sam scanned the area but still nothing. When he heard the sound again, he managed to somehow locate it, and slowly walked towards it. It seemed to be coming from one of the mausoleums, though he still couldn’t pinpoint its exact location. Getting closer, he finally saw something. There was something behind the tree next to the building, he was sure of it. Sam took a step closer, seeing something move in the shadows, and he tried to breathe as quietly as possible, closing in on the creature, nearly there, and he was ready to strike, when-
He nearly got a heart attack when the cat jumped on his leg and scratched him. Sam did certainly not scream when the animal glued itself to his leg, but he did try to kick it off by swinging his leg back and forth. When that still didn’t work, nor did the surprising amount of profanities that left his mouth, he began trying to peel the cat off with the shovel which, eureka, worked, and he watched the cat hiss and run away with wide eyes. He leaned against the tree and buried his face in his hands, because this did not just happen.
“God,” Sam groaned, glancing at his slightly ripped jeans. He got scared by a cat. He tried not to think how that made him the second most ridiculous hunter in the world who got scared by a cat, with Dean being the first one with screaming like a girl when he saw a cat once, even though he had ghost sickness at that time but that totally didn’t count. Sighing, he shuffled back to the graves and finished examining, then re-burying them, before he whipped out his phone and called Dean.
“What’s up?” he heard his brother’s voice, sounding way too relaxed, the little fucker.
“Done with the graves. I’m pretty sure that we’re dealing with a ghoul. Or more.”
“Told ya. I didn’t find anything demony or witchy or vampiry or…well, you know, anything either. But, I found a sewer in the backyard, that had some blood in it.”
“Sewer? In a backyard? Classy,” Sam smiled, then frowned, his smile growing wider. “Wait, you went down a sewer? What happened to ‘I won’t dig up a body because that’s too disgusting’?”
There was a long silence on the other end of the line, before Dean spoke again. “Shut up. I had no other choice, I needed to check. But believe me, after this I won’t go anywhere near a case involving spilled guts and germ camps for a few days. Only until I feel clean enough.”
Sam laughed then, softly and quietly but he felt his mood improve. He still hated Dean though. “Okay, well pick me up at the graveyard and we can go back to the station tomorrow.”
“Sure, just wait…uh, twenty minutes.”
“What? Where are you?”
“Diner?”
Sam glared at his phone, and he hoped that it would somehow reach his brother. “You’re at a diner? What happened with being ready when I call?”
“Hey! Man needs his pie. I’m picking us up some grub, so you should be thanking me. But hey, maybe if you’re too bored, you could try standing at the side of the road, and count how many people mistake you for a –“
Sam hung up the phone, putting it back in his pocket and walked to a spotlight that was far away from the side of the road.
*
Back at the motel, Dean enjoyed his burger and pie, while Sam munched on some fruit salad, glaring at his brother over the town map he was studying. Dean soon noticed the pair of eyes on him, but all he did was grin, shifting in his chair to get a better look at Sam. “What’s wrong, princess? Don’t like your food? I thought you loved eating healthy,” he said, winking at what some would describe, a very pissed off puppy.
“Seriously, Dean? I would just shut up if I were you. And also keep an eye open while sleeping,” Sam growled, picking at a piece of apple before hesitantly putting it in his mouth and chewing. If he was going to have diarrhea because of this, he was so going to kick Dean’s ass to the moon and back.
“Sowwe Sammy,” his brother snickered, but was smart enough to avoid eye contact with Sam. But he still looked way too proud of himself, so Sam did what every little brother would have done, and scooped up a decent amount of dripping fruits, before stomping over to Dean and grabbed his hair with his free hand. Dean’s eyes widened in surprise and he was about to say something, but opening his mouth was a big mistake. Sam yanked his brother’s head back, then shoved the pieces of fruit in his mouth, forcing them down Dean’s throat. The older man squirmed and trashed, but Sam’s grip was firm and unyielding, his palm glued to Dean’s mouth and, even though he loosened his grip on his brother’s hair and moved his hand to his forehead instead, Sam knew that this was his victory. He heard Dean’s muffled scream, his glare hot and dark, but when he realized that Sam wasn’t going to let go until he swallowed, he reluctantly began chewing, eating all of the pieces that were so brutally shoved into his mouth, then just to be a dick, he parted his lips as much as he could, and gave a long lick to Sam’s palm.
The hunter recoiled in disgust, quickly wiping his palm in Dean’s shirt. “Man, gross!” he whined, pulling a face while his brother licked his lips, grinning.
“That’s what you get for forcing me to eat your shitty food.”
“The food you gave me!”
“Never said you couldn’t go out and buy yourself something different.”
“You’re such a jerk,” Sam huffed, shaking his head at his brother and flopping back in his own chair, then resumed eating the salad, piece by piece.
“That’s it Sammy, real mature,” Dean chuckled, licking his lips again and Sam could have sworn he heard him hum in delight, but that thought quickly left him when he heard Dean mumble, “Bitch.”
Clenching his jaw, Sam threw a bitch face at his brother, having enough of his shit. “I’ve had enough of your shit,” he said, because he felt like he needed to voice his thoughts. Heard it was therapeutic.
Probably sensing the immense danger he was in, Dean quickly sighed and raised his hands. “Fine, fine. What do you say, after we’re done with this case and go back to the bunker, I make you that burger you love so much?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sam hesitated, considering the offer and hating how cheap he was, because he nodded and went back to chewing his fruit.
“Good boy.”
*
Next day, after they were done with talking to the Corporal again, they decided to check the graveyard. Last night, Sam found out from reading the map that the sewer that was in Jonny’s neighbor’s backyard led to another sewer, that was at the graveyard. This town had a pretty simple sewer system, with only a few manholes, but the two closest ones to each other were those. Backyard and graveyard. It wouldn’t hurt to give it a try, and ghouls usually lived in graveyards too.
Of course, having to visit that place meant that Sam was going to have to listen to Dean’s whining. Again.
“I can’t believe that you didn’t notice anything. Are you even a hunter? You should have at least given it a thorough check, or something,” Dean said for like the hundredth time as they walked to the car.
“I told you, I was a little too busy digging up rotting corpses. Had my dose of disgusting for a day. And there was nothing suspicious going on, and I also thought that we’d look at the place later,” which was true and not. Sam did guess that they would go and check the place out together, to make sure that they didn’t miss anything, but he did hear weird noises. Some of the sounds that he noticed that night weren’t exactly mewling, cat like sounds, but more like…wails, or cries. Though he was so shocked by that damned cat that he forgot about it, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Dean about that whole thing. He’d rather lie than give another reason for his brother to be a compete dick.
“Yeah, well you could have saved us both the trouble, by checking it- oh look, it’s Jonny John Johnson,” Dean smirked, nodding towards a figure at the far end of the street. The man turned around, and it really was him, Sam immediately recognized him and his greasy hair.
“Hey, cops!” Jonny waved at them, and Sam was pretty sure that he could see the dark patches on his teeth even from there. He sighed, and waved back, elbowing Dean to do the same.
“You think he’s gonna come over here?” Dean asked, looking at Sam with a worried and maybe even scared expression on his face.
“I’m pretty sure that yeah,” Sam nodded, watching Jonny from the corner of his eyes as he closed in on them. “Let’s hope he’s not the hugging type.”
Jonny's smile widened as he got closer to the hunters, and he looked like he wasn't going to stop waving, like, ever. “Yo, didn’t think we’d run into each oth-“ the man couldn’t finish his sentence as he disappeared. Sam and Dean just stood there for a moment, eyes wide in shock before they ran to the place where they saw Jonny, immediately looking for what the fuck took him.
“Sam!” Dean motioned at the bushes in front of a fenced house, and they quickly climbed the tall fence, running to a smaller hole in the garden. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”
There was another sewer right there, the manhole open and bloody. Jonny must have been grabbed by the ghoul and dragged down the hole, straight to… “Dean, we’ve got to get to the graveyard, now!” Sam urged, his brother nodding as they ran back to the fence.
That was when they heard the scream.