Supernatural - Whatever You Do, Don't Look Behind You (2/4) - Gen, Sam/Ava
Title: Whatever You Do, Don’t Look Behind You (2/4)
Author: Tonya (
_fullofgrace)
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen with Sam/Ava background
Disclaimer: The usuals. No own, no sue.
Timeline: obviously AU considering the finale; takes place in the universe created in my fic “Headlights on Dark Roads” but reading that beforehand is not a necessity
Chapter word count: 3448
Summary: A deadly urban legend leads Dean, Sam, and Ava on a new case.
******
Sam slouched down lower in the chair, laptop balancing in his lap. He looked up when Ava shifted in the chair beside him. She sat side-saddle, legs draped across the arm and her heels tapping out a quiet beat against the side of the chair. She twirled a pen in her hand as she worked on the crossword in the section of the paper folded in front of her. Sam smiled a bit at the doodles that lined the side of the paper, her typical form of distraction when she got stumped by a puzzle clue.
“Someone call for girlie coffee drinks?”
Dean approached them, a cardboard tray of coffee drinks in hand. He placed the drinks down on the circular table at the center of the arrangement of chairs. He sat down across from them, pulling his own coffee drink from the tray before settling back into his seat.
“Yours is the frilliest as always, Sammy,” he smirked, his cup to his lips.
Sam rolled his eyes, and Ava folded up her paper, swinging her legs around to the front of her chair. She grinned happily as she reached for her drink.
“And yours is decaf so don’t look so giddy,” Dean said, taking another careful sip from his own cup.
The giddy grin faded from Ava‘s face. “I didn’t order decaf.”
“No, you didn‘t,” Dean stated matter-a-factly as he reached onto the table and gathered a section of the paper Ava had discarded.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “And yet I’m sitting here with a warm cup of decaffeinated nothingness.”
“Yes, you are,” Dean said, and Sam held in a chuckle at the smirk he could see forming on his brother’s lips as Dean folded the section of newspaper in half.
“And why?”
“Cause it’s Monday, and it’s early, and you get annoyingly perky on that shit.”
“Cute,” she replied, settling back into her seat again. “Fine then, buddy, you’re just asking for your drinks to be tampered with.”
Sam chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at the two of them. “Not this again.”
Ava shrugged, clasping her drink in both hands and bringing it to her lips. “And I realize how grade school he-just-pulled-my-pigtails this sounds, but he started it.”
Dean grinned mischievously at her.
“Yeah, and it usually ends with Tabasco sauce in my coke,” Sam replied with a groan, and Ava gave him an innocent look as she sipped from her drink. He tried not to smile at her as he sat up straighter in his seat, relieving some of the tension in his spine. “Before you two get started on your little drink war again, I think I found a job for us.”
Dean tossed the section of paper he had been reading into the empty seat beside his, his full attention now on Sam. “So, what’s the deal?”
“Well, it seemed simple enough until I really paid attention to the article,” he replied. He turned his laptop slightly in his lap as Ava leaned over to get a better view of the article he had been reading during her and Dean’s spat. “Young woman, died in a single vehicle car crash along a strip of highway. Your typical tree versus car. Authorities are saying she died soon after impact from a throat laceration caused by shattered glass from her windshield.” He looked up at Dean, and he could already see the wheels turning.
Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Huh.”
“Yeah, I know,” Sam replied with a small nod.
Ava looked between them with a raised eyebrow. “You two are doing that sibling telepathy thing again. Which while cute and endearing, also a bit annoying for us not completely attuned to the Winchester mind just yet.”
“Car windshields aren’t typical glass,” Sam explained. “They’re specifically designed not to shatter. They’ll fold and collapse on themselves, but they should never shatter.”
“Which means that unless this windshield defies logic and enough safety regulations to land some rich CEO‘s ass in the slammer, there should’ve never been a piece of glass large enough that could dislodge and slash a girl’s throat.”
Ava nodded. “Which begs the question of what really happened.”
“Only one way to find out,” Dean said, finishing off his coffee.
**********
The drive down to Tennessee was proving uneventful. The Impala stayed mainly to the off interstates, avoiding most of the more-traveled highways. Keeping their profile low was in the best interest of all of them,; all they didn’t need was a speeding ticket in the middle of Nowhere, USA to trace them back to the long line of “crimes” they had committed. Unfortunately, using back roads meant little chance that Sam’s laptop would pick up a strong enough signal to do any sort of research.
An hour into the drive, Sam gave up with a defeated sigh.
Closing up his laptop, he slipped it into his bag before turning to place it on the floorboards behind Dean‘s seat. He smiled at Ava curled up in the backseat, napping under one of his jackets. He tucked his bag securely under Dean’s seat before turning forward again and settling into his seat, knees pushed up against the dash.
“How much longer?”
Dean stopped mid-verse, fingers hovering on the steering wheel mid-thump. He shrugged a shoulder. “300 miles, give or take.” He glanced over at Sam quickly before turning his eyes back to the road. “Anything on that fancy little laptop of yours?”
Sam scoffed. “Dude, look around, we’d be lucky to pick up a phone signal around here.”
Dean shrugged again. “We’ll hit the books when we get settled in then.”
Sam shifted in his seat, watching the span of green and nothingness pass outside his window. He sat up straighter. “Hey, how about I drive this next stretch?” he asked, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice as not to revert back to his sixteen-year-old self.
Sam didn’t mind playing passenger. Hell, he’d played it for most of his life; usually in the backseat with his books, but sometimes, even he liked being behind the wheel. It just gave him something to focus on outside of the scenery blurring outside his passenger window and Dean’s fingers tapping out the best of mullet rock on the steering wheel.
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, right, Sammy. Last time you touched my girl, we ended up getting friendly with the front end of an 18-wheeler.”
“I vote against the semi,” Ava’s mumbled voice traveled up front.
“I thought you were asleep,” Sam said, turning to look into the backseat.
Ava remained curled up on her side, Sam’s dark brown jacket spread across her and held tightly under her chin. Her eyes still closed, a small smile slowly crossed her lips. “I’ve become a light sleeper since I’ve met you two,” she said, eyes never once opening. She yawned and pulled the jacket tighter to her neck.
“So two votes,” Dean grinned, reaching over and turning up the music. “Settle in and enjoy the ride, Sammy.”
Sam exhaled deeply as he settled back into his seat. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep the next 300 miles (give or take), as Twisted Sister filled the car.
******
“So, a wake without a body, huh? Kinda weird.”
Dean stood in the bathroom, adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror.
“It’s more of a memorial service than an actual wake,” Sam explained, pulling a white button-down on over his undershirt, as Dean finally stepped out of the bathroom. “Which works to our benefit actually. You can get some information from the coroner’s office while Ava and I see what we can dig up at the service.”
As if on cue, two knocks fell on their room door before Ava walked in without little more announcement. Dressed in a pale blue blouse and black knee-length skirt, she held a pair of black heels in her hand. “So I was thinking…” she started before either Sam or Dean could get out a single word against her impromptu visit. “I think it’s time I get to do some of the coroner detail.”
Dean snorted and Sam raised an eyebrow at her as he buttoned up his shirt. “That’s sudden.”
“Yeah, you’ve never volunteered for it before,” Dean said with a suspicious look. “Why the sudden urge to go hanging out with dead folks in freezers?”
She opened her mouth to retort, but only managed a small “pfft“ sound before shaking her head. “Okay, fine, funeral homes freak me out,” she admitted, flopping down on the end of Dean’s bed.
Dean smirked. “Seriously?”
“Yes, they’re all creepy and they smell like old people and they’re just creepy.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh as Dean tossed him an amused look. “Ava, you just dug up a grave last week, and a funeral home creeps you out?”
“Oh laugh it up, you two,” she frowned
“Maybe next time, Ava,” Dean said with a small chuckle. “Today is the day for you to conquer your fears.” He nodded his head over at Sam. “Besides, Sammy’ll be there to keep you safe .”
“I will not be mocked by a man who hums Metallica to calm himself when he flies,” Ava replied, slipping on her heels.
The grin instantly fell from his face, and Dean shot Sam a glare that Sam knew all too well. It was the typical “you’re a dead man” look he got when he did anything that got right underneath Dean’s skin. Sam simply grinned innocently in response, trying not to laugh as he tucked the tail of his shirt into his slacks.
“Yeah, well,” Dean said, walking over to his bed and retrieving the white lab coat that Ava had nearly sat on, “hopefully there aren’t any clowns at this service or you’re both screwed.”
Sam glared at his brother as Dean raised his eyebrows in amusement. Ava looked between the two of them, the confusion evident on her face. “What?”
Dean grinned, shrugging. “Ask Sam.” He grabbed his car keys from the nightstand. “Now come on, I’ll drop you two off at the funeral home first.” He walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
Ava stood, looking to Sam. “What about clowns?”
Not even bothering to grab a tie, Sam could only shake his head as he placed a hand at the small of her back to gently push her out of the room. “It’s a long story,” he offered up, pulling the door closed behind them.
******
“You okay?”
Sam looked over at Ava as they settled into the last row of chairs in the funeral home. She fidgeted in her seat, crossing her legs before uncrossing them and crossing them again in the opposite direction.
“I’m awesome,” she said with a small strained smile.
“You’ll be fine,” he said in a quiet, reassuring voice. He gave her a small smile before settling back into his chair, watching everyone.
It was always surreal sitting in on memorial services and funerals. They weren’t friends; they weren’t family. They were simply strangers looking to pry into the victim’s life, to get a few clues as to what really caused their loved one’s death. It was hard walking the line between being a sympathetic viewer and a person with a job to do.
Sam noticed Ava’s leg suddenly still, and he glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow. Her head was bowed as if in a moment of silence and remembrance, but the slight tilt in her head seemed to suggest otherwise. She was listening hard to something happening just over their shoulder, and Sam forced himself to concentrate as well to see if he could hear exactly what she was hearing. He returned his gaze to her when he felt her elbow nudge him in the side. She nodded her head in the direction of the doorway just behind their chairs, where a tall brunette was currently being hugged by an older woman Sam could only assume was the victim’s mother.
“The older lady just told her she’s like a daughter to her,“ Ava whispered, her head bowed again in an attempt to appear as if she wasn’t eavesdropping on the two women in the doorway. “If she’s close to the family, maybe she’d know something.“
Sam nodded in agreement as the brunette girl made her way outside to the parking lot. Together, Sam and Ava followed the girl, looking as casual as they could leaving their seats. When they finally made their way outside, they found the girl standing off near the curb, a unlit cigarette bouncing against her lips as she patted herself down for a lighter.
Sam fished his matchbook from the pocket of his slacks, striking a match against the back of the book and holding it out to the girl. She looked up at him with a weak smile of appreciation. With shaky hands, she steadied the cigarette on her lips and leaned into the match to light it.
She took a long draw from the cigarette, running a still shaky hand through her hair. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sam said with a small nod. “I’m Sam; this is Ava.”
“Jill,” the girl replied with a quiet sniffle.
“I’m very sorry to hear about Becky,” Ava offered, frowning deeply, “I only knew her from school, but she was a nice girl.”
Jill rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, taking another draw from her cigarette. “She was my best friend.” She shook her head. “I just… I wish I hadn’t been the one…” She trailed off.
Sam and Ava shared a look. “The one who what…?” Ava asked with a tilt of her head.
“I was talking to her when it happened,” Jill said, exhaling a shaky breath. “On the phone. She, uh, called me. She had just finished freaking out about seeing something.…”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “She saw something?”
Jill shrugged. “Something. Nothing. I don’t know. She’d been driving forever, said she was probably just hallucinating.” She took another long drag on her cigarette.
Ava leaned into Jill, dropping her voice as not to be overheard though they were the lone three in the parking lot. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
Jill shook her head, taking another smaller puff from her cigarette. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I mean, you hear the rumors, you know, growing up. The weird accidents. People seeing crap.” She cleared her throat, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand again. “But it’s just rumors, you know.”
“Yeah, rumors,” Sam frowned, his mind already latched onto the few key phrases the girl had unknowingly uttered.
“I need to head back in.” She dropped her cigarette to the pavement, crushing it under the heel of her black pump. “Thanks again for the light.” She gave them a small nod of acknowledgment before heading back inside.
Ava and Sam looked at each other, each already on the same thought process. “Seeing crap,” Ava said.
Sam nodded. “Weird accidents.”
“Looks like you stumbled on something after all.”
“I wonder if Dean has stumbled on the same,” Sam said, reaching into his pocket for his cell.
He dialed Dean’s number, and by the time the fifth ring started, Sam had already prepared a message in his head to leave. However, the line clicked and Dean’s voice kicked in. “Yeah?”
“Hey, Dean, any luck?”
“Not luck, man, pure charm,” Dean replied.
Sam rolled his eyes, clearly hearing the cocky grin in his brother’s voice. Ava raised an eyebrow at him, and he simply shook his head in response to her questioning look. “Whatever. What’d you find out?”
“Dude, this Becky chick? There’s no way in hell a car accident caused the neck injury I saw. Her throat wasn’t just lacerated, man. It was slit, ear to ear.”
“I think we may have found something here,” Sam said. “Head our way, and I’ll fill you in.”
“Actually, I’m already on my way.”
No goodbyes were exchanged as the two hung up on each other.
Ava sat down on curb, stretching her legs out in front of herself. She looked up at Sam, a hand held over her eyes to shield out the afternoon sun. “What’d he say?”
Sam sat down beside her, finding the low curb a bit harder to settle into than Ava’s smaller frame. “Becky’s throat was slit.”
Ava frowned. “Slit? But how? She was the only one in the car.”
“Exactly.”
“This situation just gets weirder and weirder.”
Sam nodded in agreement as the familiar rumble of the Impala filled the quiet afternoon.
******
“Hey, I think I found something.”
The town’s library had been one hour away from closing when Dean, Sam, and Ava had planted themselves at three different computer stations. Between the three of them, they had hoped to find some more information about Becky’s death and any deaths similar to it in the area.
Thirty minutes into the search, it seemed that Sam would win the researching prize for the day.
Chairs rolled towards Sam in both directions as both Ava and Dean moved closer to his terminal. He waited until they were both within view of his monitor before continuing in a hushed tone.
“I think I found where it all originated,” he said. “Seven women died along that same stretch of highway during a four year period in the late 70s, early 80s. All victims were college students; all killed in June.”
“Let me guess,” Dean replied, reaching across Sam to scroll through the webpage that was currently up. “All with slit throats.”
Sam nodded, a small frown on his lips. “The killer had them pull over, raped them, and then slit their throats.” He swatted Dean’s hand away from his mouse as he pulled up a new webpage. “And for the past twenty years, there have been unexplained accidents on that stretch of highway ever since. All involving women who died at the scene. And I bet that if we had our hands on the coroner’s reports, we’d see they’d all have unexplained neck wounds as well.”
“So, creepy question alert,” Ava said, leaning forward in her chair, “but the original deaths, did they ever find the killer?”
“Maxwell Densford,” he replied with a nod.
Sam maximized the last webpage in his taskbar, bringing up a news article on the crimes. A blurry picture of a younger man, blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and light-colored eyes staring blankly behind a pair of glasses, sat below a headline that read “Backseat Killer Sentenced to Death.”
“So a real backseat killer, huh?” Dean replied. “This should be interesting.”
“I thought that was an urban legend,” Ava said. “The pretty girl with the creep hiding in the backseat of her car.”
Sam shrugged. “Most urban legends have some part in truth.”
“Well, that’s just creepy.”
“As creepy as a funeral home?” Dean asked with a smirk.
Ava responded with a dry laugh and a look that could castrate Dean on the spot.
Dean pushed his chair away from the table, giving himself enough room to lean forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “So this Densford dude was executed after his seventh kill, but how long before the deaths started happening again?”
“From what I can gather from all the random articles? The following June there was another accident, but then nothing again until the next June.”
“Why June?” Dean frowned.
Sam shrugged, but Ava answered instead. “College.”
Sam and Dean both gave her nearly identical inquisitive looks.
“May and June,” she said, an arm resting on the edge of the table. “Most college kids are hitting summer vacation around then. If he was looking for pretty young girls traveling by themselves? June would be the perfect time.”
“So, we have one pissed off murderer who still wants to do a little damage from the grave,” Dean said, sitting up straighter.
Sam nodded. “And counting today, we got three days to fix this, or we won’t have another chance until next June.”
Dean rolled his chair back over to his own computer. “If I were a murderous creep, where would I be buried?” he said, fingers at work on his keyboard.
“Good ol’ salt and burn, I take it?” Ava asked from her seat.
“Salt and burn,” Sam said.
“It’s a classic Friday night with you guys,” Ava smirked. “Nothing says wild and crazy weekend like a little grave desecration.”
Sam laughed under his breath as Ava grabbed the edge of the table and pulled herself back over to her own computer station.
Author: Tonya (
_fullofgrace)Rating: PG-13
Genre: Gen with Sam/Ava background
Disclaimer: The usuals. No own, no sue.
Timeline: obviously AU considering the finale; takes place in the universe created in my fic “Headlights on Dark Roads” but reading that beforehand is not a necessity
Chapter word count: 3448
Summary: A deadly urban legend leads Dean, Sam, and Ava on a new case.
******
Sam slouched down lower in the chair, laptop balancing in his lap. He looked up when Ava shifted in the chair beside him. She sat side-saddle, legs draped across the arm and her heels tapping out a quiet beat against the side of the chair. She twirled a pen in her hand as she worked on the crossword in the section of the paper folded in front of her. Sam smiled a bit at the doodles that lined the side of the paper, her typical form of distraction when she got stumped by a puzzle clue.
“Someone call for girlie coffee drinks?”
Dean approached them, a cardboard tray of coffee drinks in hand. He placed the drinks down on the circular table at the center of the arrangement of chairs. He sat down across from them, pulling his own coffee drink from the tray before settling back into his seat.
“Yours is the frilliest as always, Sammy,” he smirked, his cup to his lips.
Sam rolled his eyes, and Ava folded up her paper, swinging her legs around to the front of her chair. She grinned happily as she reached for her drink.
“And yours is decaf so don’t look so giddy,” Dean said, taking another careful sip from his own cup.
The giddy grin faded from Ava‘s face. “I didn’t order decaf.”
“No, you didn‘t,” Dean stated matter-a-factly as he reached onto the table and gathered a section of the paper Ava had discarded.
She raised an eyebrow at him. “And yet I’m sitting here with a warm cup of decaffeinated nothingness.”
“Yes, you are,” Dean said, and Sam held in a chuckle at the smirk he could see forming on his brother’s lips as Dean folded the section of newspaper in half.
“And why?”
“Cause it’s Monday, and it’s early, and you get annoyingly perky on that shit.”
“Cute,” she replied, settling back into her seat again. “Fine then, buddy, you’re just asking for your drinks to be tampered with.”
Sam chuckled under his breath, shaking his head at the two of them. “Not this again.”
Ava shrugged, clasping her drink in both hands and bringing it to her lips. “And I realize how grade school he-just-pulled-my-pigtails this sounds, but he started it.”
Dean grinned mischievously at her.
“Yeah, and it usually ends with Tabasco sauce in my coke,” Sam replied with a groan, and Ava gave him an innocent look as she sipped from her drink. He tried not to smile at her as he sat up straighter in his seat, relieving some of the tension in his spine. “Before you two get started on your little drink war again, I think I found a job for us.”
Dean tossed the section of paper he had been reading into the empty seat beside his, his full attention now on Sam. “So, what’s the deal?”
“Well, it seemed simple enough until I really paid attention to the article,” he replied. He turned his laptop slightly in his lap as Ava leaned over to get a better view of the article he had been reading during her and Dean’s spat. “Young woman, died in a single vehicle car crash along a strip of highway. Your typical tree versus car. Authorities are saying she died soon after impact from a throat laceration caused by shattered glass from her windshield.” He looked up at Dean, and he could already see the wheels turning.
Dean scratched the back of his neck. “Huh.”
“Yeah, I know,” Sam replied with a small nod.
Ava looked between them with a raised eyebrow. “You two are doing that sibling telepathy thing again. Which while cute and endearing, also a bit annoying for us not completely attuned to the Winchester mind just yet.”
“Car windshields aren’t typical glass,” Sam explained. “They’re specifically designed not to shatter. They’ll fold and collapse on themselves, but they should never shatter.”
“Which means that unless this windshield defies logic and enough safety regulations to land some rich CEO‘s ass in the slammer, there should’ve never been a piece of glass large enough that could dislodge and slash a girl’s throat.”
Ava nodded. “Which begs the question of what really happened.”
“Only one way to find out,” Dean said, finishing off his coffee.
**********
The drive down to Tennessee was proving uneventful. The Impala stayed mainly to the off interstates, avoiding most of the more-traveled highways. Keeping their profile low was in the best interest of all of them,; all they didn’t need was a speeding ticket in the middle of Nowhere, USA to trace them back to the long line of “crimes” they had committed. Unfortunately, using back roads meant little chance that Sam’s laptop would pick up a strong enough signal to do any sort of research.
An hour into the drive, Sam gave up with a defeated sigh.
Closing up his laptop, he slipped it into his bag before turning to place it on the floorboards behind Dean‘s seat. He smiled at Ava curled up in the backseat, napping under one of his jackets. He tucked his bag securely under Dean’s seat before turning forward again and settling into his seat, knees pushed up against the dash.
“How much longer?”
Dean stopped mid-verse, fingers hovering on the steering wheel mid-thump. He shrugged a shoulder. “300 miles, give or take.” He glanced over at Sam quickly before turning his eyes back to the road. “Anything on that fancy little laptop of yours?”
Sam scoffed. “Dude, look around, we’d be lucky to pick up a phone signal around here.”
Dean shrugged again. “We’ll hit the books when we get settled in then.”
Sam shifted in his seat, watching the span of green and nothingness pass outside his window. He sat up straighter. “Hey, how about I drive this next stretch?” he asked, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice as not to revert back to his sixteen-year-old self.
Sam didn’t mind playing passenger. Hell, he’d played it for most of his life; usually in the backseat with his books, but sometimes, even he liked being behind the wheel. It just gave him something to focus on outside of the scenery blurring outside his passenger window and Dean’s fingers tapping out the best of mullet rock on the steering wheel.
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, right, Sammy. Last time you touched my girl, we ended up getting friendly with the front end of an 18-wheeler.”
“I vote against the semi,” Ava’s mumbled voice traveled up front.
“I thought you were asleep,” Sam said, turning to look into the backseat.
Ava remained curled up on her side, Sam’s dark brown jacket spread across her and held tightly under her chin. Her eyes still closed, a small smile slowly crossed her lips. “I’ve become a light sleeper since I’ve met you two,” she said, eyes never once opening. She yawned and pulled the jacket tighter to her neck.
“So two votes,” Dean grinned, reaching over and turning up the music. “Settle in and enjoy the ride, Sammy.”
Sam exhaled deeply as he settled back into his seat. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep the next 300 miles (give or take), as Twisted Sister filled the car.
******
“So, a wake without a body, huh? Kinda weird.”
Dean stood in the bathroom, adjusting his tie in the bathroom mirror.
“It’s more of a memorial service than an actual wake,” Sam explained, pulling a white button-down on over his undershirt, as Dean finally stepped out of the bathroom. “Which works to our benefit actually. You can get some information from the coroner’s office while Ava and I see what we can dig up at the service.”
As if on cue, two knocks fell on their room door before Ava walked in without little more announcement. Dressed in a pale blue blouse and black knee-length skirt, she held a pair of black heels in her hand. “So I was thinking…” she started before either Sam or Dean could get out a single word against her impromptu visit. “I think it’s time I get to do some of the coroner detail.”
Dean snorted and Sam raised an eyebrow at her as he buttoned up his shirt. “That’s sudden.”
“Yeah, you’ve never volunteered for it before,” Dean said with a suspicious look. “Why the sudden urge to go hanging out with dead folks in freezers?”
She opened her mouth to retort, but only managed a small “pfft“ sound before shaking her head. “Okay, fine, funeral homes freak me out,” she admitted, flopping down on the end of Dean’s bed.
Dean smirked. “Seriously?”
“Yes, they’re all creepy and they smell like old people and they’re just creepy.”
Sam couldn’t help but laugh as Dean tossed him an amused look. “Ava, you just dug up a grave last week, and a funeral home creeps you out?”
“Oh laugh it up, you two,” she frowned
“Maybe next time, Ava,” Dean said with a small chuckle. “Today is the day for you to conquer your fears.” He nodded his head over at Sam. “Besides, Sammy’ll be there to keep you safe .”
“I will not be mocked by a man who hums Metallica to calm himself when he flies,” Ava replied, slipping on her heels.
The grin instantly fell from his face, and Dean shot Sam a glare that Sam knew all too well. It was the typical “you’re a dead man” look he got when he did anything that got right underneath Dean’s skin. Sam simply grinned innocently in response, trying not to laugh as he tucked the tail of his shirt into his slacks.
“Yeah, well,” Dean said, walking over to his bed and retrieving the white lab coat that Ava had nearly sat on, “hopefully there aren’t any clowns at this service or you’re both screwed.”
Sam glared at his brother as Dean raised his eyebrows in amusement. Ava looked between the two of them, the confusion evident on her face. “What?”
Dean grinned, shrugging. “Ask Sam.” He grabbed his car keys from the nightstand. “Now come on, I’ll drop you two off at the funeral home first.” He walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open.
Ava stood, looking to Sam. “What about clowns?”
Not even bothering to grab a tie, Sam could only shake his head as he placed a hand at the small of her back to gently push her out of the room. “It’s a long story,” he offered up, pulling the door closed behind them.
******
“You okay?”
Sam looked over at Ava as they settled into the last row of chairs in the funeral home. She fidgeted in her seat, crossing her legs before uncrossing them and crossing them again in the opposite direction.
“I’m awesome,” she said with a small strained smile.
“You’ll be fine,” he said in a quiet, reassuring voice. He gave her a small smile before settling back into his chair, watching everyone.
It was always surreal sitting in on memorial services and funerals. They weren’t friends; they weren’t family. They were simply strangers looking to pry into the victim’s life, to get a few clues as to what really caused their loved one’s death. It was hard walking the line between being a sympathetic viewer and a person with a job to do.
Sam noticed Ava’s leg suddenly still, and he glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow. Her head was bowed as if in a moment of silence and remembrance, but the slight tilt in her head seemed to suggest otherwise. She was listening hard to something happening just over their shoulder, and Sam forced himself to concentrate as well to see if he could hear exactly what she was hearing. He returned his gaze to her when he felt her elbow nudge him in the side. She nodded her head in the direction of the doorway just behind their chairs, where a tall brunette was currently being hugged by an older woman Sam could only assume was the victim’s mother.
“The older lady just told her she’s like a daughter to her,“ Ava whispered, her head bowed again in an attempt to appear as if she wasn’t eavesdropping on the two women in the doorway. “If she’s close to the family, maybe she’d know something.“
Sam nodded in agreement as the brunette girl made her way outside to the parking lot. Together, Sam and Ava followed the girl, looking as casual as they could leaving their seats. When they finally made their way outside, they found the girl standing off near the curb, a unlit cigarette bouncing against her lips as she patted herself down for a lighter.
Sam fished his matchbook from the pocket of his slacks, striking a match against the back of the book and holding it out to the girl. She looked up at him with a weak smile of appreciation. With shaky hands, she steadied the cigarette on her lips and leaned into the match to light it.
She took a long draw from the cigarette, running a still shaky hand through her hair. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Sam said with a small nod. “I’m Sam; this is Ava.”
“Jill,” the girl replied with a quiet sniffle.
“I’m very sorry to hear about Becky,” Ava offered, frowning deeply, “I only knew her from school, but she was a nice girl.”
Jill rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, taking another draw from her cigarette. “She was my best friend.” She shook her head. “I just… I wish I hadn’t been the one…” She trailed off.
Sam and Ava shared a look. “The one who what…?” Ava asked with a tilt of her head.
“I was talking to her when it happened,” Jill said, exhaling a shaky breath. “On the phone. She, uh, called me. She had just finished freaking out about seeing something.…”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “She saw something?”
Jill shrugged. “Something. Nothing. I don’t know. She’d been driving forever, said she was probably just hallucinating.” She took another long drag on her cigarette.
Ava leaned into Jill, dropping her voice as not to be overheard though they were the lone three in the parking lot. “You don’t believe that, do you?”
Jill shook her head, taking another smaller puff from her cigarette. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I mean, you hear the rumors, you know, growing up. The weird accidents. People seeing crap.” She cleared her throat, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand again. “But it’s just rumors, you know.”
“Yeah, rumors,” Sam frowned, his mind already latched onto the few key phrases the girl had unknowingly uttered.
“I need to head back in.” She dropped her cigarette to the pavement, crushing it under the heel of her black pump. “Thanks again for the light.” She gave them a small nod of acknowledgment before heading back inside.
Ava and Sam looked at each other, each already on the same thought process. “Seeing crap,” Ava said.
Sam nodded. “Weird accidents.”
“Looks like you stumbled on something after all.”
“I wonder if Dean has stumbled on the same,” Sam said, reaching into his pocket for his cell.
He dialed Dean’s number, and by the time the fifth ring started, Sam had already prepared a message in his head to leave. However, the line clicked and Dean’s voice kicked in. “Yeah?”
“Hey, Dean, any luck?”
“Not luck, man, pure charm,” Dean replied.
Sam rolled his eyes, clearly hearing the cocky grin in his brother’s voice. Ava raised an eyebrow at him, and he simply shook his head in response to her questioning look. “Whatever. What’d you find out?”
“Dude, this Becky chick? There’s no way in hell a car accident caused the neck injury I saw. Her throat wasn’t just lacerated, man. It was slit, ear to ear.”
“I think we may have found something here,” Sam said. “Head our way, and I’ll fill you in.”
“Actually, I’m already on my way.”
No goodbyes were exchanged as the two hung up on each other.
Ava sat down on curb, stretching her legs out in front of herself. She looked up at Sam, a hand held over her eyes to shield out the afternoon sun. “What’d he say?”
Sam sat down beside her, finding the low curb a bit harder to settle into than Ava’s smaller frame. “Becky’s throat was slit.”
Ava frowned. “Slit? But how? She was the only one in the car.”
“Exactly.”
“This situation just gets weirder and weirder.”
Sam nodded in agreement as the familiar rumble of the Impala filled the quiet afternoon.
******
“Hey, I think I found something.”
The town’s library had been one hour away from closing when Dean, Sam, and Ava had planted themselves at three different computer stations. Between the three of them, they had hoped to find some more information about Becky’s death and any deaths similar to it in the area.
Thirty minutes into the search, it seemed that Sam would win the researching prize for the day.
Chairs rolled towards Sam in both directions as both Ava and Dean moved closer to his terminal. He waited until they were both within view of his monitor before continuing in a hushed tone.
“I think I found where it all originated,” he said. “Seven women died along that same stretch of highway during a four year period in the late 70s, early 80s. All victims were college students; all killed in June.”
“Let me guess,” Dean replied, reaching across Sam to scroll through the webpage that was currently up. “All with slit throats.”
Sam nodded, a small frown on his lips. “The killer had them pull over, raped them, and then slit their throats.” He swatted Dean’s hand away from his mouse as he pulled up a new webpage. “And for the past twenty years, there have been unexplained accidents on that stretch of highway ever since. All involving women who died at the scene. And I bet that if we had our hands on the coroner’s reports, we’d see they’d all have unexplained neck wounds as well.”
“So, creepy question alert,” Ava said, leaning forward in her chair, “but the original deaths, did they ever find the killer?”
“Maxwell Densford,” he replied with a nod.
Sam maximized the last webpage in his taskbar, bringing up a news article on the crimes. A blurry picture of a younger man, blond hair pulled back into a ponytail and light-colored eyes staring blankly behind a pair of glasses, sat below a headline that read “Backseat Killer Sentenced to Death.”
“So a real backseat killer, huh?” Dean replied. “This should be interesting.”
“I thought that was an urban legend,” Ava said. “The pretty girl with the creep hiding in the backseat of her car.”
Sam shrugged. “Most urban legends have some part in truth.”
“Well, that’s just creepy.”
“As creepy as a funeral home?” Dean asked with a smirk.
Ava responded with a dry laugh and a look that could castrate Dean on the spot.
Dean pushed his chair away from the table, giving himself enough room to lean forward, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “So this Densford dude was executed after his seventh kill, but how long before the deaths started happening again?”
“From what I can gather from all the random articles? The following June there was another accident, but then nothing again until the next June.”
“Why June?” Dean frowned.
Sam shrugged, but Ava answered instead. “College.”
Sam and Dean both gave her nearly identical inquisitive looks.
“May and June,” she said, an arm resting on the edge of the table. “Most college kids are hitting summer vacation around then. If he was looking for pretty young girls traveling by themselves? June would be the perfect time.”
“So, we have one pissed off murderer who still wants to do a little damage from the grave,” Dean said, sitting up straighter.
Sam nodded. “And counting today, we got three days to fix this, or we won’t have another chance until next June.”
Dean rolled his chair back over to his own computer. “If I were a murderous creep, where would I be buried?” he said, fingers at work on his keyboard.
“Good ol’ salt and burn, I take it?” Ava asked from her seat.
“Salt and burn,” Sam said.
“It’s a classic Friday night with you guys,” Ava smirked. “Nothing says wild and crazy weekend like a little grave desecration.”
Sam laughed under his breath as Ava grabbed the edge of the table and pulled herself back over to her own computer station.