cloudy-coyote

[cloudy-coyote]

Necessity

(A/N): Hi! It’s been a while. Hope you like the chapter!! Leave a comment if you do (if you want to) image is not mine i found it on google. Also learned all my information about police procedure from tv lol so I’m sure it’s a bit inaccurate my apologies. 

xoxo.

Ch. 6 Inconclusive

"Wait, are you guys going?"

"Well, we have a theory," Sam answers.

He's at the couch, picking up his discarded jacket. Dean doing the same.

"A theory?" She repeats.

"If we're right, we know where your necklace is."

Of course. That waitress must've taken it. Where else would've it gone? But, does that mean the necklace killed her? She feels a cold shiver run up her spine.

Even though the police radio said homicide, not animal attack, she's not an idiot. She can put two and two together. The necklace has to be the source of all this chaos.

Eva's nearly died 2 times. She thinks of Marlene in this exact moment. She visions her bright, blue eyes now lifeless. The idea that that could've been her—Eva, dead on the ground. The thought deepens in the pit of her stomach. It slithers down her throat and makes her nauseous.

She looks to Sam. His large hands unlock a little metal box. He shuffles around in the masses of what looks like ID cards.

She looks to Dean. She sees his cold eyes trained on the disengaged pistol in his hands, loading it.

And then she finally looks to the room. She observes the same mess of papers scattered around. But she also notices nothing else. No guns, no other people.

She'd be dammed if she didn't go with them. What's she gonna do all by herself? Sit and drown in silence? She knows for a fact that the moment she's alone, there will be nothing to stop the fears, thoughts, doubts and miserable heartbreak from flooding her mind. Not to mention, she'd be dead meat if she was attacked again. Screw the aching bones and pulsing wounds.

"Here we go," She grumbles to herself as she rotates her body to the end of the bed.

Slowly, and very reluctantly, she lowers her legs to the ground.

"Woah woah woah," Dean puts a hand out, halting her in place.

His green eyes were aimed straight at hers. The look emitting almost a parental scold.

"And where do you think you're going, missy?"

She narrows her eyes. She knows what he's trying to say, and she doesn't want to have it. "Umm...with you guys?" Her voice drips with sarcasm.

"Oh, I don't think so," Dean laughs, "Take a look at yourself."

"What exactly am I looking for?"

"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're crippled...or that you're frickin' kid,"

"First of all, I'm 18. Second, I'm fine. "

"Oh really? Why don't we just toss you out the car and see how fast you can run with those broken legs?"

The tips of her ears turn a furious red. She does not have the energy to put up with this after what she's been through all night---or actually, all day.

These last 24 hours she's been through hell and he wants to leave her here? Are you kidding me? Does this man only think for himself? I mean, it's not like she's asking to run in guns blazing fighting whatever type of monsters they fight. She just doesn't want to be by herself!

The elder Winchester holds his ground. His face was slightly entertained due to her silence. He took it as a win. She wanted to smack his stupid confident smirk right off. But, she couldn't for the life of her, calm down and come up with a smart retaliation. The only thing she could think about was his bullish ignorance.

"Uh-Dean," Sam cuts in.

Both Eva's and his brother's eyes reluctantly glance toward him. He stands by the coffee table, gently cleaning out his own pistol and loading it.

"Just a few minutes ago she was on our asses for leaving her at the hospital. Just a suggestion, but maybe we should take her with us?"

"You're not even wearing your fed suits. I wouldn't look out of place!" She adds desperately.

"Sweetheart, you're not goin' anywhere outside these motel walls, capeesh? "

"No! No capeesh," She exclaims, "She has my necklace, I deserve to go. I mean, this is my life we're talking about here! That--that could've been me on the police scanner."

"Exactly! That's why you're staying here, where it's safe."

"No, I'm staying with you two, where it's actually safe."

"Well, sweetheart, doesn't really sound like you're asking," His voice a dangerous tone, his eyes narrowing.

"Never was, sweetheart." She spits back.

Just as Dean takes a threatening step closer to her. About to hand her ass to her, and then some. Sam jumps up from the table.

"Listen, Eva, it's fine. You're coming with us, just stay in the car, okay?" His hazel eyes connect with hers. She nods at his offer, happy with his understanding.

He turns to his brother.

"And really, Dean? Arguing with a teenager?"

"She started it!"

"Right, and I'm the kid."

~~

Dean's hand turns the keys and the soft hum of the Impala shuts off. Sam gives his brother an I.D, Sturon Hometech Security. He's quick to stick it in his wallet.

Eva looks out the window as the boys begin to discuss some details. It was a fairly long drive here. So by the time they arrived, there was a multitude of civilians piled around the street. They were held off by officers and police tape of course, but she could hear the nervous chatter from inside the car.

She saw that the street was eerily dark. The only illumination coming from the blue and red flashers. You could see little dots of yellow in the horizon of porch lights being flicked on, a single lightbulb brightening up the patio. This incident seemed to have shocked the neighborhood for sure, she could tell that much.

The cold, night air blows harshly against the glass windows. And despite there being nothing open, with the car off she begins to feel a chill.

"-You think you could turn the car on for me?"

Sam pauses, mid-sentence. He clenches his jaw and lowers his gaze toward Eva.

They didn't know what to expect walking in there. Everything from this case is becoming less and less predictable. And realistically speaking, it's becoming less and less 'huntable'.

He'd hate to say it, but his fears of dying are weighing out his usual feelings of compassion for helping victims. Not to mention, neither he or Dean know what the hell is going on with these "psychic visions".  Or why this Demon came after all the children like him. To say the least...he's on edge.

Sam answers before even giving Dean the opportunity to open his mouth.

"Sure," He turns back to the girl. His eyes were stern and his tone was short, "Stay in the car."

The last thing he needs right now is for her to be wandering around. Her life is important, of course, like any other human's. But her relevance to solving this case... that's much more critical. They lose her, they lose any chance of ganking this thing. With a harsh tug of his hair, he takes in a deep breath and leaves the car.

He's...tense, she thinks to herself.

She nods slowly to Dean, indicating she'll stay inside. Dean turns the engine on and leaves the car without a word. The abrasive shut of the door stinging loud in her ears.

She releases a big sigh, welcoming the overwhelming scent of leather, "Silence, again."

As soon as the boys leave the Impala, they're met with the cool, midnight wind.

"So, what were you saying?" Dean looks to his brother. They make their way towards the crowd and blaring police lights.

He clears his throat, "Earlier, I was looking into local missing persons and I read about this guy named Viktor Judoc,"

"He went missing on April 5th, 1994. Which at the time I didn't think anything of it until I realized that was the same day Eva was attacked, only a whole different year,"

"And get this," he reached into his pocket and pulls out a small piece of paper, "He was a professor at Bartley University, last seen in the history building during a heavy storm."

"Well, it sure does match up."

"Also, Eva said there was no record of her family or herself existing here. I think that professor might be our only overlap."

"Whether or not he is, it's some type of lead."

"Yeah, I hope so."

"Sammy with a guy named Viktor, we're bound to find out some nasty business," Dean snorts. He looks back again to his brother and sees him sigh heavily.

"Look, we'll figure this out, okay?"

"Yeah," Sam laughs dryly.

The absurdity of not only the Demon but, now with Eva, it's seeming hopeless at this point, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

They approach the cluttered townspeople. All gossiping and whispering their fears.

"Did you know her?" He hears one woman mutter to a young man. Dean weaves through the crowd, Sam not far behind him.

"Pretty damn well, I'd say. Considering I'm her boyfriend."

Sam turns his head swiftly. Looking for the man's face. Her boyfriend?

"Oh, I'm so sorry," the older lady frowns, "Why aren't you up there talking to the police?"

Sam's eyes land on him. He notices his coal-black hair sat in natural curls. He sees a great, big tattoo on his neck. But, due to the night sky, he can't really tell what the design is.

"I will...soon. I just don't think I can right now," he mumbles.

The older woman nods in sympathy. But, Sam's gaze flies to something else. The man's hand nervously hovering over his hip, like to keep checking for something. He sees his body shift for a moment and in the darkness, he can just barely see the outline of what looks like a gun.

"--C'mon, we need to get in there," Dean's voice startles him causing him to jump a little. He looks to his brother and then to the police tape only a couple of feet from them.

"Why do you look so spooked?" Dean asks.

"Well, I just overheard Marlene's boyfriend talking..." He turns his head, pointing Dean in the direction before noticing—he's gone. Sam quickly searched the pool of strangers, looking for a black-haired, tatted-up man. But, he couldn't find him. He'd run out of there pretty damn fast.

"He's gone..." Sam mumbles.

"Well didn't you say he was just here? He couldn't have gone that far."

"Yeah, well, he also seemed pretty hesitant to talk to the police,"

"We'll pin him down later. C'mon," He motions toward the house.

"Dean, he had a gun, and he looked off."

"Well he's gone now, there's not much we can do," Dean nudges Sam's shoulder, "Now, c'mon."

They weave through the crowd a bit more. Making their way up to the tape that everyone is being kept behind and nod to an officer.

"Sorry boys, can't let you though," The man clicks his tongue.

"We're actually apart of the alarm company Ms. Woods had set up in her home," The both of them casually flip their I.D's.

"Yeah? Well damn good job you guys did, those alarms never went off."

"Yes, we heard," Sam eyes the house in the distance. It's swarmed with forensics teams, the local coroner, and many officers, "We were sent here to come identify the error, so we can make sure this won't happen to anyone else."

The officer nods, slightly tugging his lip up in distaste. He reluctantly pulls up the tape for them to pass.

"Thank you, officer."

They walk under and through. Making their way toward Marlene's home.

~~~

Eva's eyes are glued to the scene. The car was parked a bit far down the street, so everything was blurred together. But, she couldn't pull herself away. She followed Sam and Dean's footsteps as long as she could until their bodies got lost in the crowd. Occasionally she could see their faces pop up in the sea of heads, but...then she'd lost them.

She'd notice a few bystanders walk back to their homes in various directions. Or sometimes see more people flood into the street.

But, one man, in particular, caught her eye. She saw him slip away from the crowd-- he didn't seem to be heading towards any of the houses. No... he started speeding down the sidewalk away from the scene, constantly checking behind him. His behavior put her off so much that she felt she had to watch him. The paranoid glancing back and forth was something she was all too familiar with.

But then she realized, he was making his way straight in the direction of the car. His figure kept getting closer and closer. His nervous eyes quickly peering into the cars he passed. Shit, he's going to see me.

Despite her aching body, she's fast to get on the floor. Crouching low enough she could smell the rubber of the ground padding. At his alarmingly fast walking pace, she sees his shadow approaching the car. He stays on the sidewalk because it seems as if he's only checking the cars to make sure no one sees him.

Then she remembers... the car is running. How could I forget that? Jesus!

He's only a second away, he most likely noticed that the car was on already. But, she prayed he was too caught up in his head that he hadn't seen it yet. She swiftly crawls over the front seat. Her torso screaming in pain as it bears most of her weight. Her hand flies to the key and shuts it off. The interior of the car going pitch black and the hum of the engine falling to a rest.

She holds her breath. Now able to hear the hasty, stressed footsteps from the sidewalk—loud and clear.

For a moment she hears him hover. His frantic feet pause and he stares deeply into the window. Her stomach in her throat, she prays that he can't see her.

And as if she had a little angel on her shoulder, the man stepped away. She hears him shuffle around for a second...and then continues walking down the street.

She breathes out heavily. Now letting her lungs catch up to her racing heart. She decides she'll still wait a few moments. At least until she can no longer hear his footsteps. When it seems like he's far enough away, she tries to sit up.

She lets out a great, big breath of relief and slumps into the leather seat. Since she had to crawl over, she now gets a clear view through the windshield.

As she begins to settle into the comfort of the driver's seat, she entertains herself with staring up to the moonlit sky. With all the mayhem that she's encountered for the last 24 or more hours, it wouldn't hurt to take a load off-- relax for just one minute,

Ring!

She jolts up.

Ring!

She hears it again and shuffles around in the seat, trying to see where the sound was coming from. The ringing was almost muffled like it was beneath something. She opens the glove box and sees an old, silver flip-phone light up. She looks to the I.D number and it reads,

Dad.

~~~

"You two from the alarm company?" A detective asks. He has pale, blue eyes and short, chestnut hair. He was around his mid 40's and had a deep raspy voice.

"Yes, sir," Sam answers.

He drinks up the environment around him. Most of the house was in pristine condition. There was no mess, no fallen lamps or pictures, almost like there was no foul play. This realization sent shivers down his spine. It had to have been the necklace, he thinks.

"Do what you gotta' do, just don't get in any of my officer's way," He eyes them both up and down, his blue gaze colder than the night air, "Are we understood, boys?"

"Yes, sir. You'll be getting no problems from us, Detective...?"

"Murke, Detective Murke," He holds out his hand in a polite gesture. Both Sam and Dean shake it, half-smiling back.

A younger, much kinder-looking officer runs up to the detective. He nervously taps his shoulder. And when he whispers something in his ear, he frowns— a perplexed look on his face.

Dean waves him goodbye silently. He and Sam turn and walk towards the kitchen, where the back door is.

They make their way through the forensic photographers, through the policeman swabbing and sweeping the house for any DNA. Once they reach the kitchen they notice the scene.

They don't stare long. Not wanting to be deemed suspicious, they casually walk towards the alarm system set up by the back door.

"—Well that's just it, isn't it?" An old man's voice hollers. He's hunched over the young woman's body wearing a jacket marked 'Coroner'.

The Winchester's eye the scene. They see Marlene. She's lifeless. They've seen many dead bodies in their day, but it was an oddly unsettling encounter they could never get used to. Her skin was turning a bit grey and there was a swamp of blood around her body. They could make out the wound— what looks like to be a stabbing.

"Huh," Sam whispers.

"Yeah, I don't remember weapons being apart of this thing's M.O."

"—With no sign of forced entry, it's not that shocking to me," A particularly bulky, female police officer comments.

"Yeah, the knife's right there. It just doesn't look like a homicide," Another one adds.

Sam's eyes look to the ground near Marlene. His stomach twists when he sees her empty eyes again, but he quickly diverts his gaze. He looks in the pool of blood, and there lay a kitchen knife. But, it's when he looks to her hand—he sees none other than that uncanny, silver chain.

"Found the necklace," Sam murmurs. He nods subtly towards the girl, Dean's eyes landing on her hand.

"Well, that's weird."

"What do you mean?"

Dean shifts awkwardly. He takes a casual look around the two of them, making sure no one was catching on to them.

"She's not wearing it. I mean, what made her take it off?"

Sam sighs, "I don't know, maybe she never put it on?"

"Or, she put it on. But, the moment she took it off, she bit the dust."

"—No! Don't you hear a word I'm saying? Jeez, what is it with you, bush leaguers?" The old man wails.

"What? You seriously think someone had the key to her place, stabbed her, left no prints, and took nothing?"

"Yeah, not to question you, Warren, but it's a single stab wound. It doesn't look like a crime of passion, it looks self-inflicted," Another chimes in.

"Why don't you two shut up for a minute while I explain it to you, hm? I'll put it simply so maybe you can understand."

Sam notices he's beginning to feel a bit dizzy, his hand flying up to his head.

"You good?" Dean whispers.

His little brother grimaces, feeling as if all the blood in his body is flushing from his brain to his toes, "Yeah...uh, I don't know."

"It's been a while since we've eaten, just try and hold it together," He nods assuringly.

The coroner stands up with a heavy grunt pulling Sam and Dean's attention away. Still wearing his rubber gloves, he swings open a drawer. Lazily grabbing another knife, he positions it over his body.

"If I was going to stab myself, tell me...where would I do it?"

The female officer rolls her eyes, "In the stomach."

"Right," He rotates to his side, so they can see his profile. The tip of the blade held right to his torso, "Now tell me what angle I'm holding the knife at right now."

It was at that moment that everything seemed to click in their heads. The interns looking down in embarrassment. He takes their silence as confirmation to continue.

"Nearly straight, but downwards, right?" He asks rhetorically. They all nod feverishly. He places the knife back into the drawer and squats back down to the body.

"So, tell me how this woman killed herself when the angle of the wound is directly upwards? It's impossible to achieve a self-inflicted wound of this inclination."

"That means... that we have a very smart killer on the loose," The female officer says, her voice laced with concern, "There's no prints, no evidence left tying the attacker to themself."

"Someone better go tell Murke,"

Sam and Dean both look to each other. There was a clear worry in both of their eyes. Just another god damn thing to add to the list of reasons why this case makes no sense. Not to mention, now they're going to have the police sniffing around for a killer.

Sam pulls out a black bag from his jacket, unzipping it. He reveals some small tools and screwdrivers and begins to toy with the security system.

"Any ideas of how we're gonna get that necklace?" Sam whispers.

"Zilch."

They quickly quiet down when they see the head Detective enter the room. His blue eyes were narrowed as the Coroner began to fill him in.

"—We're going to need a profile," Murke comments as he circles Marlene's body, his eyes analyzing the room.

"Still no prints?" He asks. They all shake their heads.

"Detective, have you ever dealt with a guy like this in Willow?" An intern speaks up.

"Once."

Sam and Dean both look at each other, a knowing look in their eye. Sure, it could've been some random psycho—but if they're lucky, there is some type of connection here. There's a multitude of factors and crazy happenings but, possibly, they're related after all.

"—Wait a minute, I think I've got something here," The old Coroner interrupts.

All eyes fly to him as he remains crouched over the body. His latex-covered hands hovering over her neck. His fingers trail over the skin, finding a little bump.

"She seems to have something...uh, lodged in her throat," He turns to his case in search of a pair of forceps. He slowly extracts the object.

Sam's eyes bulge out of his head as he sees a tiny cloth. The man unwraps it to reveal satanic writing and a fragment of bone. Hex bag?

"God," A police officer comments, "What a sicko."

Dean mumbles to his brother, "Witches, after all."

Sam slowly lowers his hand to his pocket. His fingers sliding along his silver phone and peeking it out, taking a quick snap—keeping the device low to his hip.  Hoping he got a good picture of the hex bag laying open...

"—Hey, you two," An officer startles them. They turn around, Sam hastily shoving his phone in his pocket without looking suspicious, "Are you done, yet? We need to know if this guy hacked this system or if she let him in."

"Oh," Sam clears his throat, gathering his thoughts. He didn't look much into the alarm, not that he knows much about the mechanism, anyway. But, its witches, right?

"She let 'em in," Dean answers.

"Is that right?" Detective Murke pops up behind them.

Sam nods accordingly and notices the multiple officers scribbling down the information.

"Well, then your work is done here, boys. I trust you can see yourselves out?" He raises his eyebrows.

Sam's eyes immediately fly to the necklace, still on the ground. They can't leave yet. They only have a matter of time before it's bagged as evidence. Then it will be physically impossible to get it.

"Uh-yes, sir," Sam answers.

Detective Murke turns away with a couple of officers, discussing in private. Forensic photographers began to make their rounds in the kitchen.

Sam casually zips up his black bag, murmuring to his brother, "What now?"

"Well, Sammy, right now this room's crawling with five-0. I don't really see us getting within 1 foot of that chain before getting booked."

He picks up the bag and begins to walk towards the front door. Sam hot on his tail.

"We can't just leave it," He whispers.

"Alright Einstein, what do you suggest?"

Sam sighs. He eyes the house around him, looking for any opportunity he can get. He had what—less than a minute to come up with a good plan before the photographers are finished in the kitchen, and the necklace is taken for good? His nerves were on fire and no matter where he looked or what he thought of, nothing worked.

"C'mon, we gotta leave it," Dean nudges.

"Fine. But, what about Eva?"

They continue to walk and their eyes reluctantly watch the kitchen scene as they pass.

"We'll figure it out, we always do."

Sam sees someone drop the dainty, silver chain into a plastic bag before handing it off to another officer. Chewing on his lip, he prays he didn't just let their only hope get taken from them right in front of their eyes.

When they take their first steps outside the house, the cold air whips them hard. Their ears are met with anxious chatter of the citizens.

Sam still feels that subtle ache from earlier, his head a tad dizzy.

"So," Dean fills the silence as they walk back to the car, "We got this Viktor shmuck, the boyfriend, and now some old case Murke worked on to look into,"

"Don't forget the witches." Sam means to flash a mocking smile-- but instead feels his head pulse with pain. What the hell?

"Ah, how could I forget the witches!" Dean grinds his teeth, "Gotta love witches."

He swings open the door to reveal Eva sitting up front.

"Witches?" She repeats.

Dean jerks his head to the side, his green eyes glaring.

"Oh," She looks down, realizing her location, "—Sorry."

Once she scrambles into the back seat, Dean drops onto the leather with a huff. Sam swings open his door and sits down. His fingers massaging his temples, a cramping expression on his face. Dean quickly glances over to him, them both eyeing each other and thinking the same thing, 'let this please not be another damn psychic vision.'

Then Dean takes a moment to recognize the cool air inside the car wasn't right—he had left it running.

"Why's the car off?"

"Uh-Some dude came toward the car and I was worried he was gonna see me. He looked pretty freaked out."

It explained why she was sitting up front, Dean thought.

"What'd this guy look like?" Sam asks.

"It was hard to tell, honestly...black hair, a tattoo maybe?"

Sam's head darts around to look at her, "Was he carrying a gun?"

"I don't know," She shakes her head, "All I remember was how paranoid he was. He was checking every car."

"Why, what is it?" She asks.

"I think that's Marlene's boyfriend. I saw him in the crowd, he disappeared pretty fast."

"And he has a gun? That's a charming thought," She snorts.

Dean turns the key and the engine roars. He takes off down the highway.

Her eyes wander back outside the window to the night sky. She tried to gather her thoughts, first, she hears witches, then she hears 'crazy guy with a gun', what's next? An angel in a prom dress?

"What the...?" Sam shifts in his seat awkwardly, like he was trying to get rid of a wedgie without using his hands. Eventually, amongst his shuffling around, he pulls out a phone from the seat.

"What's this burner doing here?" He directs to Eva. Oh, that's right. She'd completely forgotten.

"Oh...your Dad called."

Both of the boys' heads turn so fast they nearly snap off their bodies. Dean swerving the car a bit before being forced to look back at the road. Sam's eyes widen with surprise as he hastily glances at his brother then back to Eva.

"Did you answer it?" His hands fiddle with the phone.

"No," She responds nervously, "I didn't think you'd want me to..."

She was completely befuddled by their reaction, to say the least. Her voice was small and she had a million questions running through her head, but she wasn't entirely sure right now was the time to ask them. She continued to anxiously fidget with her hands awaiting any more information.

Sam's fingers finally dial him back. It's silent for a moment. The tension was so thick, you couldn't even cut it with a knife, you'd need an axe, surely. It was completely quiet except for the sound of the Impala cruising down the road, she could hear the soft rings of the phone.

"—Hello?"

"Dad," Sam smiles in disbelief.

[cloudy-coyote]

Necessity

(A/N: found this gif on google! HI IT’S BEEN A MINUTE YA’LL. Sorry lol I was very busy what can I say. But prepare for some writing spam 👅please let me know what you guys think I really hope you guys enjoy! 😊 )

Ch. 5: Beleive it or Not it’s Eva!

“Dean, this is pointless,” Sam sighs.

Papers upon books, upon papers spread out over their beds and the table. They had their Police Scanner set up on the floor. Sam balances his laptop on his lap, with hundreds of tabs open. And Dean stands over the counter, preparing some coffee.

They’ve searched from everything to the lore of cursed objects—to the things that do the cursing, like Witches, Ancient spirits, and they can’t find anything that matches up.

Keep reading

[cloudy-coyote]

Masterlist

I have been trying to make a masterlist for 2 days and ya’ll…..I am so confused. 

Supernatural

-Necessity 

Summary: Eva had a perfect family. Sure, they would bicker and get under each other’s skin, but she loved them unconditionally. That is, until April 5th 2019- when her friend Amber Shirley went missing. She begins to learn much more about life- that time is inevitably spinning, and fate is unavoidable. She learns-for starters- that the two tall, rugged men dressed in black and white suits were in fact not the FBI. You can only imagine what crazed, psychotic events took place after that. Eva could have never guessed this is where her life would’ve ended up halfway through her second semester of College. And in no way in Hell did she believe Demons could be real.

Warnings: 18+, mature content, descriptions of violence, vulgar language, mentions of sex, death and adult themes. 

Relationships: Sam/OFC/Dean

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 

Part 5 

(more coming���)

Part 6

Part 7

etc……

[cloudy-coyote]

Necessity

(A/N: found this gif on google! HI IT’S BEEN A MINUTE YA’LL. Sorry lol I was very busy what can I say. But prepare for some writing spam 👅please let me know what you guys think I really hope you guys enjoy! 😊 )

Ch. 5: Beleive it or Not it’s Eva!

"Dean, this is pointless," Sam sighs.

Papers upon books, upon papers spread out over their beds and the table. They had their Police Scanner set up on the floor. Sam balances his laptop on his lap, with hundreds of tabs open. And Dean stands over the counter, preparing some coffee.

They've searched from everything to the lore of cursed objects---to the things that do the cursing, like Witches, Ancient spirits, and they can't find anything that matches up.

Their first thought the moment they heard about an animal attack was Werewolf, easy. Except the heart wasn't taken, and it seemed it wasn't even aiming for the chest. Like this thing just went ham on her body, for almost no reason.

So, because it didn't take anything, they thought they were dealing with something vengeful. Something that tried to kill her for a reason. Maybe a spirit, or some creature that felt wronged by her.

But, everything seemed to become more confusing once they talked to her. It wasn't simple, there wasn't a clear pattern. It was scattered, random events. Somehow all connected to her--- but done by God knows what.

Time-travel? That's a new one.

Cursed necklace? Well... they've dealt with that one before.

A cursed necklace, that has an invisible attacker and causes almost immediate death, including possible time-travel?

Not a fucking chance.

Sam couldn't help but feel like he was in some type of book--- like an episode of the X-Files. The utter absurdity with what they're dealing with is off the charts. The power this thing has is mortifying. Even when hunting a spirit, they can be in some serious danger. But with this? Something so lethal, how are they supposed to protect themselves from something they don't even understand?

He shuts his computer. Shoving it to the side with a groan. Dean eyes his brother, watching him succumb to his frustrations. He can't blame him, this case is seemingly hopeless.

They've been hunting together since they were kids. In some ways, Dean can see his Sam as he once was, just a little kid--just his baby brother.

No matter how many times Sam could wrong him, like abandoning him for Standford, he'll always protect him. He knows that. Because when he looks at him, he can't see evil. Even if the world is telling him he's the psychic visions mean he's some type of devil spawn...all he sees is a chubby-faced little kid.

Dean takes a sip of the crappy motel coffee, tasting like burnt water. He looks up from the papers to face his brother.

"You're right, this thing is strong," Dean agrees, "But if we figure this out? We might have an advantage."

Sam looks up from his hands, 'an advantage'?

"What do you mean?"

Dean sighs, moving Sam's laptop off the couch and plopping down next to him.

"That Demon that Dad's chasin', it's strong too. If we can figure out how to kill this thing, we can definitely kill that bastard."

"Kill a Demon? That's impossible," Sam retorts.

"There's always a way, Sammy. Dad taught us that."

He shakes his head.

Something just not sitting right with him. He couldn't comprehend how something as powerful as this entity or curse can't be found anywhere. Creatures not nearly as strong as this one have Ancient stories from all over the world. Vampires have myths from every ancient civilization, but this invisible killer? Nothing. That's the constant, isn't it?

Every time there's been an attack, it's practically deserted. It's like this thing is a void of desolation. No people, no sounds, no face, no evidence-- no Mythology, it makes sense in that light. But, it's too vague to develop anything further. That begs the question, what if it really is something like that-- like this creature is some sort of spirit of emptiness, erasure. That would mean, they really are defenseless in this situation.

Because you can't kill nothing.

"Killing a Demon is actually seeming more realistic than trying to kill this thing right now,"

Sam lays back into the couch, his head laying toward the ceiling, "Dean, this thing doesn't bleed, doesn't have a body, doesn't make sound, I don't get it---how can we kill something if it's not even a thing?"

"Well then we don't kill it, we just try and...stop it, I guess," Dean shrugs.

He shakes the confusion. He's been on a thousand wild hunts, with crazy, wack-job monsters, and if he would've let the fear get to his head then--- he wouldn't have come out alive.

Albeit, he's not the best at calming people down or consoling them. But, if he can keep his head screwed on straight, maybe it will help Sam relax.

With all the things going on with his brother, he doesn't need another thing to drive his mind in circles. He knows that if they have any chance with this thing, they have to be calm, they have to think clearly, and most importantly, they have to think realistically.

They might not be able to kill it, purge it, or do whatever the Hell to it-- but they can do their best to survive. He has to tell himself that he'll figure it out. Because truly, saying those things more times than once can help him believe them. And he can't have doubt at a time like this.

"So we're in the vicinity of 'Cursed Objects', right?" Sam asks.

Dean snaps back from his thoughts, nodding, "It's the only one that fits."

"But the curse isn't death by touching it, otherwise Eva would've died at her Baptism when they put it on her."

"No, no," Dean collects his thoughts, "When she got attacked, the necklace fell."

Sam nods along, "And at the diner, the necklace wasn't on her either."

"...But she was wearing it when we got there, when we sat down, don't you remember?" Sam continues. Dean remains silent as Sam starts to piece together the memory.

"-When we sat down Marlene complimented her necklace. And after that, when she was going through the details of her story, and she told us about it falling, I looked straight at the necklace, I remember it, Dean."

Sam can't help but wonder, what exactly made the necklace fall off. Both times it dropped off her body right before she was attacked, it was like the initiating factor.

"That waitress complimented her necklace? Huh, didn't hear that."

"You were too busy staring at her ass to hear her."

Dean laughs, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, "And what an ass that was."

"Dean, c'mon! " Sam shoves his brother.

"Why didn't I go home with her, again?" He asks, a cheeky grin still on his face.

"Because I stopped you. Honestly, can't you keep it in your pants, man? We're working on a case, and..." Sam pauses,

"Wait a minute... "

"What?"

"...She also disappeared."

"Well everyone did, pretty suddenly too," Dean says.

"No, but it was right after she showed Eva to the bathroom," His eyes meeting his brother's.

"Shit," They say in unison.

~~

Eva walks along the sidewalk, just a few blocks from the hospital.

The night sky seemed to have clouded up. She couldn't see very many stars nor the illumination of the moon, it was murky and dark. Downtown Willow wasn't that busy it seemed. It also wasn't that much...different.

In fact, it wasn't different at all, give or take the old cars; stores that would be replaced in the near future; odd advertisements. But besides all that, it was still her home town. It made her stomach twist at the strange familiarity because it wasn't quite right. Like in a dream where it resembles your home but... it's all wrong.

It only makes her wonder, is her house still there? Is some other family living in it? God, she couldn't bear to see that. Or, what if it's torn down? What if it's some apartment complex? She shivers at the thoughts. The last thing she wants is to have a breakdown in the middle of the street.

She was feeling something in between fury and exhaustion. She was pissed at the boys for ditching her--how the hell was she supposed to find them on her own? They left her nothing, absolutely nothing. But, on some level, she was so damn tired, she didn't even have the energy to get that angry. There was something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. She felt, well, weird. She wasn't really sure what it was.

She looks down the street to see a 24-hour Convenience store. The 'Open' sign glowing blue and red, standing out in the dark street. She doesn't have money, but she does need help. Doesn't matter if it's from a corner store. She shakes her thoughts of home away. Putting her legs in motion towards the end of the street.

Still in her nurse scrubs, she enters the store. The little bell rings when it opens. The small shop wasn't very busy. She saw maybe only one or two people in there, buying beers or cigarettes.

She went to the back of the store, mindlessly wandering the isles. She needed to distract herself. Sure, she wanted help, but she wasn't just going to ask anybody. She was planning to wait until someone who looks trustworthy comes in, not just a late-night drunk.

Plus, she wanted to gather herself a bit first. She didn't want to break down in tears in front of some stranger. Crying combined with the scrubs...they might assume she escaped from a psych ward. That would be a nightmare.

The shelves were packed with endless amounts of chips, pretzels, sodas, candy--- all the junk food, essentially.

Eva feels her stomach growl. But, she hasn't got a single dollar. She stares at all the foods stacked upon the shelves, her desire growing--- like that point when you get so hungry, your stomach starts to hurt.

"You lost, baby?"

The voice was deep, gurgly sounding. Just hearing him sent shivers down her spine. Detest gorging her mind. 'Not this,' she shuts her eyes. She thought having a breakdown was the last thing she wanted but, oh boy, she's changed her mind. The dear to God last thing she wants is to deal with is some desperate pervert.

When she opens them to reluctantly identify the man standing next to her, she regrets it. Making eye contact with him only made him smile. In some ridiculous irrationality that made him think, he's struck gold.

"No, but thank you, sir," She says.

She grits her teeth so hard, trying her best not to cuss at him, trying to remain polite. But, honestly, when has that ever worked?

He mistakes her niceness as a sign of flirtation. She sees it straight away in his eyes when he doesn't move away, doesn't blink, only becomes more engaged.

He's well over his 50's, and as he got closer his breath smelled like cheap booze and unbrushed teeth. She stepped away from him, turning around very dramatically, hoping he'd leave her alone. The smell of disgusting, bad hygiene stinging her nose.

Then again, did she really expect that to work?

She groans when he follows her, "You want me to buy you some drinks? Cause I can do that, sweetheart. I can show you a real good time," He calls desperately to her.

When she keeps trying to ignore his words and walk away, his grimy, sweaty hand latches on to her arm.

"Seems like somebody's got an attitude problem. Can't even turn around and say a 'thank you'?"

She turns. Her body rotating like a rusted screw. Her neck moving so eerily stiff, so slowly, that when she met his face, his smile dropped. She narrows her eyes, clenching her jaw hard enough to fracture it.

"I said, no thank you," She repeats through gritted teeth, "Touch me again, I call the damn police." She shoves his nasty hand off of her and turns back around.

"Bitch," He calls out, before walking away.

Her body was pulsing, both with anger and pain. She just escaped a damn hospital and now she had to put up with this sicko? At this point, she really began to feel the rage for being abandoned. Sure, the voice in the back of her mind suggests that they may have been in danger or that they were trying to keep her safe--but, she shuts that little voice up.

There's nothing she despises more than being left alone. She's without safety, without family. She has to defend herself against a gross drunk. She had to break out of the hospital by herself.

And the thought crosses her mind for a second, why even go back to those dicks? But--she can't just go anywhere, it's not safe. Besides, they're her only chance of getting back home. All of a sudden, she feels the fatigue hitting her a little stronger than before.

She hurries through a few aisles, before realizing she doesn't have anybody around her, literally. She makes her way to the register, approaching it.

Behind the desk stands a relatively friendly-looking man. He seemed to be in his mid-twenties, nothing creepy about his smile or his gaze. Just a cashier doing his job.

"Excuse me?" She asks. He looks up from whatever he writing down.

"Oh," His eyes soften, "Is that man still bothering you, I can kick him out if you want."

She smiles at his offer, a breath of fresh air. Based on his nice demeanor, she prays he'll help her out.

"Thank you, but actually I was wondering about something else."

"Sure," He answers, "What is it?"

"I don't have any money with me, and I need to call my--er, brothers, would you let me use your phone?"

"Yeah, no problem," He pulls out his silver flip-phone from his back pocket and extends it over to her.

"One more thing, sorry to ask, do you have a phone book?"

He nods his head, bending down beneath the counter and pulling the yellow-paged book out. He places it in front of her.

She flips it open, searching for Motels,--this 'Lotus Motel' on Semple.

Little Bed & Breakfast

Loaf and Tin Inn

Lot 48

Louis Trackman Hotel

Lotus Motel

"Finally," She whispers. She carefully drags her finger across the dotted line toward the number. She flips open the phone, looking at the time: 2:00 am. She quickly clicks the number into the phone's keypad.

She places it up to her ear as it rings. It rings again, again--- again.

"-Hello, Lotus Motel! Would you like to book a room?" The voice answers.

"Uh-No, actually, I'm looking for my uh- brothers," She rolls eyes at the stuttering, trying to pull herself together, "They checked into a room, and I can't remember the number. They're both tall, Sam is the taller one with longer hair and Dean is shorter with short hair, please- if you could tell me."

"Sure, ma'am just give me a second," He pauses, placing the phone down. She taps her fingers nervously, wanting to reach for her lost necklace.

"-Okay, it says here they're staying in room 29. Will that be all?"

"Yes sir, thank you," She ends the call. Eva hands the phone back to the owner who was only standing about a foot away from her.

"Get what you need?" He asks.

"Sort of, now I need a ride. Don't really wanna be walking the streets by myself this late."

She looks back to the window, seeing the darkness, the danger. That man in the store was just the beginning of it. Once you're outside at night, alone, female-- they don't care if you scream or yell, they'll attack you regardless.

"Here, take some bus fare," He opens the register, pulling out 2 bucks. He hands it to her.

"You really don't have to," She feels bad, not wanting to take his money. She needs it of course, but this man was already nice to her, now helping her even more.

"No, take it, you need it."

She looks up to his face. His eyes were sincere, he knew what was out there, and most of all she was only 18. He could see she was just a kid.

She takes it, gratefully smiling to him, "Thank you so much, sir. I'll pay you back for this."

And with that, she hops on a bus, straight to Semple street. In approximately 40 minutes, she'll be whooping some Winchester ass.

~~

"That's exactly what I've been saying, Dean," Sam shakes his head, "There's a reason this thing is hunting her, she has to have been marked in some way."

"What if it has to do with her blood? Her parents maybe," Sam suggests.

"No, no," Dean, gets up from his seat, "Then this thing would've been after them, attacked Mom or Dad, not her."

"Then it has to do with that necklace, that has to be the target."

Dean nods, "This thing must be connected to it, maybe some Ancient Spell."

"Wait," Sam stands up, walking over to his laptop and flinging it open, "Like the Hope Diamond...?"

"Hm," Dean tilts his head, "Whenever you lose possession of it, you die,"

"It's just weird...why did she hear footsteps that night? It doesn't match up with the lore."

"Yeah, and neither does the time-travel, Sammy,"

"We're missing something," Sam sighs, putting his head in his hands. He looks to his watch, reading: 2:40 am.

"Okay, let's start over," Dean suggests, "Her friend goes missing."

"Could be anything, ghost, Demon," He snorts, mumbling, "Hell, a Wendigo."

"Well if it was connected to Eva's necklace, to her attack, what options does that leave us?"

Sam tilts his head, intrigued by the thought. They both think in scribbles, trying to make some sort of relationship between the attacks.

"We know that the necklace dropped from her body that night-- like it triggered the attack. We know that when she lost it at the diner, she was attacked again."

"But that time we didn't hear any footsteps," Dean replies.

"Well, what if that night someone was trying to save her?"

This idea causes both of them to turn silent. Their brains soaring up into a frenzy of thoughts. They were thinking about how realistic that was. And if somebody actually was trying to help her, who the hell was it? That would explain why she heard footsteps running after her. Was that the reason she ended up in 2005---did this person send her here to save her life?

"What would even have the power to do that?" Sam whispers.

"I'm not so sure that this case is just about a cursed object anymore. We've got something bigger on our hands."

"If any of this is true, whoever was protecting her before isn't here now. I mean, she nearly died, Dean."

"Wait a minute," Dean sits up, his eyes alarmed, "If we know Marlene must've swiped the necklace at the diner, Eva's bound to get attacked again,"

There's a knock on their door that startles the both of them.

Dean's hunter instincts kick in. Both of their bodies freeze. They know pretty damn well it's not housekeeping.

Having been hunters their entire life, they know it's always something bad. They've learned to expect the worst. John Winchester, unfortunately, made many enemies. They grab their pistols, holding them up. Dean slowly inches toward the door, keeping the gun pointed.

There's a loud knock again.

"Who is it?" He demands.

His voice low, his arms still as a statue. He was prepared for anything. Demon, ghoul, skin-walker, you name it.

"It's Eva! Now open the damn door!" She yells.

Sam and Dean look at each other, 'Eva? How did she get here?' The voice was certainly recognizable, but they couldn't trust that. There are about a dozen things that can not only mimic voices but also take on her appearance. Besides, she should be in the hospital.

"Should I open it?" Sam whispers to Dean.

He nods, gesturing his pistol, for him to move forward.

Sam unlocks the door. His mammoth hand slowly pulling it open to reveal a girl. A girl who looked exactly like Eva. Sam tilts his head, his posture relaxing for a moment as he recognizes her. But, his face is washed with confusion.

"Eva?" He asks.

Dean doesn't lower his gun, "Sam, Holy Water,"

"C'mon it's clearly h-"

"-Holy Water Now!" He says raising his voice.

Sam rummages through his pockets, pulling out a little black flask. He unscrews the top,

"Did you guys seriously just leave me at a--" A splash of water hits her face.

"--What the Hell was that for?" She shrieks. Her hands, shaking with anger, come up to harshly wipe her face.

Dean lowers his gun, seeing no black eyes and no smoke. He opens his mouth to speak- but she stops him.

"--You two give me one good reason why I should still trust you after abandoning me like that!"

"Uh- well, Dean and I had to--"

"--Had to what? Do research? You couldn't do that with me in the room? Are you serious?"

"It was Dean's idea!" Sam adverts the blame.

Immediately, her face twitches, and she turns to the elder Winchester. Her eyes boring right through his wide ones.

"Look, I'm sorry okay? But, we had to figure out what this thing was, and that Doctor from before could've seen us and we would've been busted, kid!"

"Yeah, well imagine what would've happened if he saw me. I'd be locked up in an Asylum!"

"Probably Prison, considering it looks like you impersonated a Nurse," Dean eyes her up and down.

"Ugh! You don't know how close I was to getting caught! It was terrifying," She exclaims.

"Why did you come here if you're so pissed at us?"

"Dean," Sam shoves him.

"What? I can't ask a question?" Besides, it's what we're all thinking, he thinks to himself.

"Where else do I have to go? You guys told me you were going to help me find my family again, and that you'd keep me safe," Her voice falling to a whisper, "I trusted you guys."

"We're so sorry, Eva." Sam steps closer to her.

He gently ushers her inside and softly closes the door.

"This case is getting to our heads, we've never had such a confusing one," Dean admits, "Even after hours of research, we barely have anything."

"I know, it's scaring me too."

She moves some of the papers sprawled out on the bed and sits down. She sighs heavily, thinking about how her fear got the best of her. She didn't want to freak out on them, she felt bad about yelling. All she wanted was a sense of security.

She needed to know that she was going to find her family again and that her life isn't hopeless. But, the longer she thinks on it---in this completely different world--- she feels she might not ever be able to see them again.

"We'll figure this out, kid. Even if we can't gank this psycho, we can do our best to keep you safe," Dean places a hand on her shoulder. She places her fragile one on top of it.

"Jeez, your hands are freezing," He comments.

"Well yeah, it's like 30 out there, and I'm wearing scrubs."

"Speaking of that, do you have your real clothes?" Sam asks.

"Nope. They weren't in my room, and I had to get out of there before someone saw me."

"So...you're not wearing any underwear?"

"Seriously, Dean?" Sam groans.

"It's a joke, Sammy!" He grins, but his brother continues to glare, "Relax, 's just tryna lighten the mood a little."

She wants to laugh, but she can't really conjure up enough energy. She thought that if she found the boys, she'd finally feel safe enough to lie down. But, her brain won't stop the constant ache of sorrow. Her body feels incredibly raw, pushed to its limits. She remains tense, sitting stiffly on the mattress.

"Where'd you get the money to buy a pack of cigs?" Dean asks.

His eyes falling to her right hand, clutching the life-saving gift to her chest.

"I didn't. A stranger gave them to me. It's the only thing that saved me from being caught."

They notice the sad look in her eye. With their job, it's important to be observant. They need to be able to find the smallest clues, indications in order to track down creatures. Though, it's not something they can really turn off. All they can feel is pity. They really did leave her to fend for herself.

Eva's fingers start to unbearably cramp. She lowers both arms to her lap, gently cradling them. She can feel the rawness of the flesh, her bones and muscles were not yet healed. Throwing away those splints was vital, but now she really wishes she had them.

"Got any ice?"

Sam and Dean's eyes immediately fly to her arms. They were red and tender.

"What happened to your bandages?" Sam asks. She was covered in them when they were at the diner, and he's sure after the second attack she'd have even more.

"I had to take them off."

"Well you're dedicated, I'll give you that," Dean comments.

She only hums in agreement, her head still facing her lap.

Dean turns to his little brother, "I got the bandages, you get the ice."

They both stand up and scurry around the cluttered room. Eva tries to focus on something other than her hysteric mind. She can only hear the sounds of the boys moving around the room, stepping awkwardly to avoid the scattered papers and books.

She could hear faintly through the walls to the other rooms. A muffled television program, a few car engines, some murmuring voices down the hall-- it wasn't much, but it was something.

She gets sucked into her own head, wondering why she must feel so weird. It's probably because of walking through Willow while being in the past, that's weird, right? She feels her stomach twist, knowing deep down that something else was a little off. Must be that damn necklace.

Sam softly treads back to the bed she's sitting on. He holds a sock filled with ice, a thick knot at the end of it to prevent spilling.

"Here," He places the ice gently down onto her arms, "Sorry, it's all we had."

She exhales sharply when the cold object touches her tender skin.

"Thanks," She shudders.

Sam sees her hunching over in pain, and probably exhaustion too. She's sitting at the foot of the bed, due to the fact that it's the only clear space. He moves behind her. His large hands gathering all the loose papers and books and shoving them to the side. He makes a clear space for her by the pillows.

He props a few of them up against the headboard, fluffing them.

"Here," He nudges her.

She turns slowly, not wanting to strain anything. When she notices the empty space, presumably prepared for her, she smiles.

At this close proximity, she could smell the scent of his cologne. It was subtle and light, not like those overpowering ones people drown themselves in at the club. It was soft and smelled like something clean and woodsy.

He pulls back some of the covers before patting down the pillow one more time. She then pauses for a moment--trying to calculate how exactly she's going to get over there. Her body feels like it's going to shatter if she moves even in the slightest.

Though, she's embarrassed to ask for his help again. He sees her hesitation and before he can offer her some assistance, Dean pops back up.

He's holding quite a lot more than bandages. She sees a first aid box, some booze, a couple used slings.

"Before you left, did the doctors tell you what your injuries were?"

"I need to know what I'm stitching up," He adds.

She straightens her back, that's right, "They actually said I was...okay."

Dean and Sam both cock their heads at her. Their eyes nearly about to pop out of their sockets. What the hell was she talking about? She was practically dead the last time they saw her.

"You're...okay?" Sam gawks at her, "You're not serious, are you?"

"You were dead as a doornail, kid. No way you're fine."

"Really? I mean, I still have all my broken bones and stitches from before, but--"

"Nothing from the diner?" Sam interrupts.

"No...actually."

Both of the boys look to each other. This didn't add up.

"God...this thing, whatever the hell it is, just keeps getting more and more confusing," Sam groans.

All of a sudden they hear a voice. But not from a person outside the room. It was a radio voice--- the Police Scanner.

"Uh- we've got a 10-35."

"10-20?"

" 16 Mason and Carter."

Another voice responds, "10-101?"

"10-106. We're gonna need the Medical Examiner"

"10-4"

"What was that?" Eva asks.

"Major crime alert, a homicide," Dean answers.

Sam goes over to the radio, about to turn it off--

"Victim...Marlene Woods."

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! Let me know what you guys think xoxo 💋 

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joy doesn’t happen superfluous (113)

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Misha Tweets

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#MySPNLittleMoments 53/365

Lol Sammy :p

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endless dean winchester gifs: (22/?)

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Aren’t you the cutest thing.

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Sam Winchester is so fucking beautiful inside and out. When I’m having hard days like today I wish so bad he could appear in my real life and just hold me. 

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when is the next part of necessity coming out??? I hope you’re continuing it 🔥🔥

hi! soon bb! I’ve been gone for a minute lol there was a lot going on but get ready for some more mayheeeemmmm 

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#protective dad

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Necessity

(A/N: I get my gifs from google. I hope you guys like this chapter!! I want you guys to enjoy the story cause that will make me happy!! Please leave feedback if you think I need any criticism or if you just wanna tell me you like it, it always helps! Love you xoxo) 

Ch. 4: Need a Smoke?

The moment flashed so fast that both Sam and Dean stood still. Shocked. Confused. There wasn't a single threat standing in the diner, it was like she was attacked by nothing--attacked by the air. It took them a few seconds to kick back into gear-- perplexed by the sight in front of them.

Sam quickly bends down. His large hands grabbing her shoulders, "Eva?" He asks desperately.

But she gives no response. Her body slumps against his hold.

His frantic eyes shoot back to his brother, always looking to him in times like these. Looking to him for direction.

Dean flies to his knees. His two fingers pressing under her chin, trying to find a pulse. He immediately feels the frostiness of her cold skin. And when his fingers push against the spot, he feels tightness, hardness, not the way a young woman's skin feels like, especially around the pulse point.

"Someone call 911! Please, we need some help in here!" Sam yells out.

His heart was racing--only a moment ago she was fine, wasn't she? There wasn't a werewolf or a vampire, or any sort of attacker around them. She just suddenly fell down, and now she looks like the life is rapidly being sucked out of her body. Each second she turns paler and paler, colder and colder. What could've done this to her? Was she attacked while she was gone? Is that something still in the restaurant? What could've...what could've even done something like this?

"Dean," Sam looks to his brother.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Witches? Demon?"

Dean opens his coat pocket, pulling out an EMF detector. He switches it on, "I'll scan the place, try and get an ambulance here ASAP--I could barely feel her pulse."

Sam grabs his phone calling 911, "My friend collapsed, her pulse is low, she's cold and unresponsive, we're at the diner right off 79, please!"

He feverishly tries to check her body as best as he can, looking for a wound, a mark-- something. He calls out again and again, "Please someone! We need help!" But, he can't seem to find anyone. No one was running toward them or even responding to his plea. The diner was eerily abandoned. Not a soul to be seen, and not a single sound to be heard. He just prays the ambulance gets here in enough time to save her.

He makes sure to consistently check her pulse, not wanting to miss it decreasing, or possibly even miss the moment it stops. He wracks his brain, what could've done this? What could be happening to her? They've never seen something like this-- come to think of it, everything about this girl has been entirely unfamiliar to them. And now all of a sudden she collapses, he's just completely helpless. With all of his knowledge on Vampires, Ghosts-- all the sinister, dangerous things, and he has absolutely no idea of what to do.  

He looks for basic signs of possession, but there's no sulfur, and there was certainly no black smoke. Ghost possession was possible, but there was no ectoplasm. Not to mention, how would a spirit even do this to a person? Furthermore, why? Why would any of these things attack her like this? How would any of those things even be capable of attacking like this? He tries to think more, more possibilities. He thinks witches--- witches is definitely a possibility. She could've been poisoned, cursed, hexed. That's his best bet.

His hands scramble around her body, searching for a hex bag. His eyes dart to the table they're only a few feet from. He hesitates, should he really leave her body? What if in that second she stops breathing? He holds his shaky hand over her mouth, he feels tiny, short breaths hit his palm.

He jumps up and darts to the chairs. He wrecks the red cushions and throws the table to the side. He searches all the legs, the backs, the corners, whatever he can--- looking for the goddamn bag. He whips out his knife, diving into the cushions. He rummages through all the stuffing, frantically looking back to check on Eva every few seconds. But, once again, he comes up with nothing.

If it's not a hex bag, then what else?

Dean comes bolting back into the room, closing the EMF and storing it back into his pocket. His face wasn't as frantic as much as it was grim.

"Couldn't find anything, no sulfur, no spirits," Dean comes to crouch down to Eva, "How is she?"

Practically a rhetorical question, he feels her pulse himself, and just by looking at her, he could tell she was fading.

He simply eyes the mess Sam made, "No bag, huh? He mutters.

"No, but Dean," Sam comes to place his hand over her mouth once again. This time he feels her breaths hit his palm slower, much slower. And the air was almost cold, like holding your hand over a crack on an icy window.

"I think she's dying."

Dean can only think of one more thing. He doesn't know how much longer she will last and quite honestly, who knows when the ambulance will get here? He stands up, taking one last look at Eva before pulling out his pistol.

"Stay here, wait for the ambulance."

Sam's eyes jump to his brother's,"Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna get a slice of that damn apple pie."

He tries to remember which way the waitress went before she disappeared. There wasn't anything up with her as far as he could tell, but it was like she vanished into thin air. The whole diner was entirely vacant. He knows something's up. He already checked the kitchens, the hallway-- he doesn't know what he's expecting to find, considering he's already looked.

So, he decides to trace Eva's steps instead. If she was attacked when she was alone, then he might be able to track this son of a bitch. He knows she got up to go to the restroom. He also knows that Marlene walked her there.

He follows down the hallways, looking for anything suspicious. He moves as fast as he can. He wants to gank whatever the Hell this thing is-- especially because, quite frankly, it scares him. His heart pumping with Adrenalin, he hurtles down the hallways. And with each corner he turns, he points his gun-- prepared to meet anything.

It just doesn't make sense to him. Whatever this thing is, it's not textbook. There's always a significant pattern to a monster-- they have their 'thing'. A vamp, needs blood; a wolf, needs a heart; a Demon, needs a body-- but nothing lines up.

First, it doesn't attack her right away. It was a gradual strike. He couldn't tell how many things were coincidences and how many things were truly connected. Her friend going missing, her phone not working, the intense storming, her necklace falling, the attacker running so fast and attacking her so fast-- she couldn't defend herself. The attacker had claws, clearly-- He could gather that. But, it's speed, the way it stalked her like prey but, didn't even kill her.

Now, she drops like a fly in the middle of the diner. No people, no predators, no wounds. Even the waitress went missing, the kitchen staff, it was just like the night she described--abandoned. She couldn't see the attacker.

But then things didn't line up with that. That time, there was blood, pounds of it, she described. But here? A bloody nose, that's it, and Dean thinks it was just from her face-planting the ground. Last time she heard something, albeit-- it didn't give her enough time to save herself nor see the attacker, but she still heard something.

Sam and Dean saw and heard absolutely nothing.

He rounds the last corner to see a woman's restroom. He sneaks toward it, searching for sounds. When he kicks the door open, he holds his gun steady in case anything proves to be a threat. Nonetheless, it's an unoccupied bathroom. He slowly enters it, checking the stalls, the sinks, the counters for anything. His hands coming up, once again, empty.

Sam holds a wet napkin to Eva's face, trying to clean the blood stains off. When he starts moving his hand down her face to the edge of her chin, he sees more blood ran down the side of her neck. As he goes down, gently wiping it, he notices something. Her necklace is gone.

He drops the napkin, checking around her whole neck to see if it just slipped under her shirt. And when he can't feel a chain, he looks to the floor next to her--- where she fell. Maybe it dropped when she collapsed? He looks around, nothing.

Just as he's about to get up and expand his perimeter, he sees the muted lights of an ambulance through the window. The sound becoming louder and louder, as the picture of the truck became clearer and clearer. Eventually, it was close enough that it was too bright for his eyes. But he felt much-needed relief knowing help was here.

He scoops her up in his arms and carries her to the entrance. Dean also heard the sirens from all the way on the other side of the restaurant. He catches up to his brother, holding the door open for him.

"Find anything?"

"Zip. You?"

"Not sure if it's important or not, but her necklace is gone," Sam whispers. Once they reach the wailing ambulance, the gurney is already being set up. Medical responders quickly roll the gurney to Sam, helping him place her down.

"What happened?" One of the female one's asked.

"She was recently attacked by an animal, and then today in the middle of the diner just collapsed,"

"And are you relatives?"

"Yes, uh- we're her brothers," Sam answers.

"Would you like to ride along or meet us there?" She asks. Multiple doctors surround Eva on the bed. They lift her up and immediately cover her with an oxygen mask. Just as Sam is about to speak, Dean halts him.

"We'll meet you there," He waves.

They jump into the truck, shutting the door and it speeds off down the highway.

"She's going to end up at the same hospital as before, we can't risk that doctor seeing us, we could get caught," Dean says. They walk to his car, noticing the mostly empty parking lot.

"Dean, we can't just leave her in there, what if it comes back? She'll be defenseless."

"So are we! We can't help her if we don't know what the Hell type of thing is after her," He unlocks the car, getting in.

"There's only one good thing that came outta that," He adds.

"What?"

"We found our constant, the necklace,"

"You mean the missing necklace," Sam sighs, "Don't even have it."

"That's what we're going to find."

"She lost it in the diner, and now we're leaving the diner. I don't think we're going to find it in our motel room," Sam hints.

"Yeah well, we need to do some research first."

"We're just going to leave Eva at the hospital?"

"She'll be fine, Sam. Sponge bathes by hot nurses, trust me, she'll be just fine,"

Sam hits the dashboard, "This isn't the time to be funny, Dean. Whatever this thing is, it's extremely powerful, we've never seen anything like this before. Just be realistic, we're going to need help."

"What, you think if we call Dad he'll come? C'mon Sammy, you be realistic." The Imapa soars down the highway, the engine humming beneath them.

"What's the harm in calling? Have you stopped to think that this thing could be the thing that killed Mom and Jess?"

"Dad said it was a Demon, and that he was on its trail,"

"So? What if he's close to us? Dean, just call him. Who knows, he might actually help us."

"Fine, hand me the damn phone," He holds out his hand, keeping his eyes on the road.

~~

This time when she wakes up, it's not daytime. She's thankful for that because if she woke up, same place, same time-- she thinks she'd lose her mind. It'd be like Groundhog's Day gone mad.

Her head pulses and her brain begins to process her condition. She tries to think backward, to remember how she ended up here. But, all she can remember is being at the diner with Sam and Dean-- then it goes black.

She quickly recollects the piercing pain that overtook her body, her hand coming up to graze over her torso. She flinches at the tenderness of her flesh.

Of course, her mind immediately goes to, 'what the Hell happened?' But, it switched very easily to, 'wait a minute, where's Sam and Dean?' Her eyes nervously searched the room, not even an indication-- like one of their jackets. They weren't here.

What if they got hurt?  Her anxiety traveling to that terrifying, yet not so crazy idea that this thing got to them. She prays, she begs and she shuts her eyes so tight, hoping it to not be true. Her hands wander up to her neck, looking for comfort in her charm but, her fingers find nothing.

Her eyes shoot open, looking down to her chest. In one glance, she sees an empty collarbone. 'God, not this too,' She feels tears prickle at her eyes. That necklace, it's everything to her. She's already left alone in a room, without family, and without Sam or Dean, now she doesn't even have her precious gem. A small tear dares to run down her cheek, and she feels herself slouch into defeat. Her body giving in, and she weeps.

Her face burning, her nose running, she lets out agonized sobs. Craving her family, her Mom, her Dad, her brothers. She misses her bed, her home-- her peace. And as she cries there, all alone, she hears silence- only silence. Desperate for her Mom's comforting words or her brothers' squabbling, even Sam and Dean's company.

A nurse lightly knocks on the door, "May I come in?"

Eva sniffles, wiping away the tears, "Sure."

She has deep, cool-toned skin. Her face is round. It is structured beautifully-- prominent, ball-like cheeks, soft jawline, hollowed right along her teeth. Her nose bridge was thin, you could see the rectangular cartilage, but the rest of the nose was flattened down. Her eyes were deeply hooded, set in small lids. Her irises were dark brown, and covered most of her eye space, making her look doe-like.

Her top lip was curved and her cupid's bow looked pulled up all the way to her nose. She had dark black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She offers Eva an effortless smile. The apples of her cheeks popping up, making the ends of her eyes sweetly crinkle.

The thing that catches Eva's eye the most was the marvelous ring on her index finger. It was silver, like Eva's chain. It didn't have the same pretty, blue gem that she had. There was a stone, it looked to be black, shiny-- not like a crystal. It didn't look like a polished gemstone or some type of jewelry, it looked almost like coal, but if coal was a little muted, and could reflect.

"You're free to go, young lady," She informs her.

"I'm... what?"

"We did scans, tests, and you're in perfect health, aside from the healing stitches, of course," She approaches the bed. Her jaw would be on the floor right now if not for the pain holding it closed.

"Our responders told us your brothers said they'd meet you here at the hospital, but since we haven't seen them, you should probably call them," She adds.

"My...brothers?" 'Is she talking about Sam and Dean?'

"Yes! I think they were heading towards an old black Chevy?"

"So they're okay?" Eva suddenly sprouts.

The nurse smiles brightly, "Yes, and so are you. I'm afraid we need these rooms for E.R patients, so if you could call your brothers, get yourself checked out at the main desk, it'd be greatly appreciated."

Eva hesitates-- she doesn't have a clue of what their cell phone numbers are. Furthermore, where the Hell did they go anyway? No note, no call, no visit? They wouldn't just ditch her at the hospital, would they?

"Sure thing," Eva answers, her voice not nearly as confident as she'd like it to be. Fortunately, the nurse didn't seem suspicious. The woman leaves with a kind smile before shutting the door.

She doesn't really have a choice, does she? She doesn't have money, she can't check out. She doesn't know the Winchester's numbers, she can't call them. Her only option is to try and get out of here without getting caught. I mean, what if Dr. Calloway sees her, she won't stand a chance.

She hurridly hops from the bed, her legs, of course, cry out-- but she pushes through. She's desperate to get the ratty hospital gown off of her,  but when she looks to the counter, there are no clothes. She looks to the seat, her bed-- her clothes are gone.

She can't try and escape a damn hospital wearing a literal tissue. Not something you can pull off twice.

She grabs the cold, metal handles of the cabinets and pulls them. Locked.

She looks through the tiny glass window on her door. She sees a few nurses scurrying down the hall, Doctors in and out of rooms.

Then she sees the same nurse from before. She's wearing normal clothes, and exiting a room just a little diagonal from her.

The door reads: Staff Only.

It must be some kind of changing room. The woman probably just ended her shift. She may not be able to bolt through the hospital in a gown, but she can certainly do it dressed as a nurse.

Her heart begins to race at the idea. It's illegal, isn't it? Pretending to work at a health center-- or any government facilitated center, it's being an imposter. If she gets caught, she could end up somewhere far worse than a Psych Ward. But, it's her only option.

If she waits here, she's bound to be found out and there's no way she'll be able to get out of that one. No fake FBI agents coming to her safety. She can't just let them take her, she can't. She needs to find out what attacked her, and she needs--absolutely demands to find her way back home. She's not giving up on finding her family, not this easily.

She clenches her fists, her body wincing at the pain. No matter, the splits and visible bandages have to go.

She starts unraveling the bandages around her hands, her forearms. Removing the little finger-splints and the one around her wrist as well. It didn't feel right, her skin was sensitive and the bones were still healing. 'But, you gotta do what you gotta do, Eva,'  She tells herself.

Once everything was removed and properly thrown into the trash, she waits. She stands directly behind the door, peering out the window. If someone looks like they're going to walk by her, she ducks--doesn't want people to think she's planning an escape.

Things start to die down. Only a couple nurses here and there, walking by slowly, chatting. The number of doctors being called around lessened as well. But, this is for E.R patients, so that means this moment won't last long. This is her shot.

Her sweaty hand finds the silver door handle. She slowly turns it, waiting for a soft click. Shakily, she tries to take a deep breath--- not letting fear get the better of her. She frees the door, only a crack. Opening it very gently, making sure no creaks were to be heard.

Suddenly she sees a nurse throw open the door next to her and pop out. Eva quickly brings the door back to the frame, keeping the handle turned so it doesn't shut. She ducks, cursing under breath and how terrified she was of getting caught.

She bites the inside of her cheek, slowly creeping up to see her surroundings, clear.

She opens the door, slowly again, and once she's able to fit her body through--- she hops out. Speed walking to the room diagonally, her body moving alarmingly fast despite her screaming bones. She felt her head in the clouds, so high up from anxiety-- from fear, it only made her walk faster. The hospital lights seemed agonizingly brighter as she moved, the sharp, clean smell of the hallways piercing her nose. Her body began to shake, only within a second of walking and she felt mortified. Speeding towards the door, clenching her stomach---she reaches the wooden, rectangle. She quickly turns the handle and swiftly throws herself in. She closes the door, leaning her back against it, letting out heavy, panting breaths.

She'd say she's never felt so frightened in her entire life, but that'd be a lie. Sure, the adrenalin is pumping hard, and her mind is going in circles. Her palms were sweaty and her body was trembling-- but, there has been a crazier time. We don't have time to unpack any of that though--she shakes away the thoughts.

Her legs kick into gear pretty fast. Her brain reminding her, she doesn't have much time-- someone from the staff could walk in here. So, she jumps up, looks at a wall of lockers displayed in front of her.

"Shit," She whispers. Seeing them all locked, no way of getting in. Then she looks to a cabinet sitting in the back. It's metal, a chipped turquoise, and the door was slightly open. She quickly treads to it, opening the doors.

She sees mountains, upon mountains, of unused nurse scrubs. Relieved with success, she hastily grabs one. She rips off the gown, literally. The thin paper material crumpled on the ground by her feet. And she quickly pulls the pants up, slides on the slippers. She tries to gently pull the shirt over her head without hurting herself too bad. With everything on, she clenches her jaw, 'ready to go.'

She runs back to the door and prepares herself. She puts her ear to the door, trying to see if she can hear any indication of who's outside. When she recognizes there to be only a few other nurses present, talking to patients. She breathes in a deep, long breath, and opens the door.

As soon as she's out, she unflexes her hands, tries to put her chest out and look confident. Telling herself in her head over, and over, 'relax, stay cool.' She knows that if she looks even the slightest bit out of place, she's at risk of being caught.

She looks to her left where there lie a couple of empty gurneys and a counter. On the counter, there are some loose papers resting there, along with a clipboard. She quickly grabs the papers and gathers them onto the clipboard.

She holds it out, displays a kind--fake as Hell-- smile on her face, and makes a beeline for the exit. Of course, since she's never worked in a hospital before, she has no idea how to navigate E.R, but she goes wherever the signs take her.

She's walking fast, looking like a woman on a mission. She pretends to check her clipboard now and then, and she's turning a corner that bears the sign, 'Main Lobby'. Only a few steps from freedom, just through that door.

"Nurse?" A voice calls to her. She pretends she didn't hear it, continuing to walk.

"Nurse!" A Doctor rushes after her, her hand landing on Eva's shoulder. This causes her to freeze, her blood flying through her body at the speed of light.

"Jeez, do you need to get your ears checked?"

Eva snaps back into it. She lightly laughs, smiling to the doctor. Her head was spinning, and she was sure her heart was beating so fast, it would shoot out from her chest. She tried to control herself from letting her breath get caught in her throat, 'you can't look suspicious,' she tells herself.

She sends the doctor a polite smile, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were talking to me, Dr..." She looks to the nametag, "Knightly."

The woman smiles back in return, "Don't worry, I assume you're new?"

Eva forces out another fake laugh, "How did you know?"

It was Dr. Knightly's turn to laugh, but her's was authentic. She motions for her to follow, and she begins to walk toward a room. 'No no no no', is all she says in her mind, her body starting to go into danger mode. Her muscles cramping up so much that she has to consciously force her legs to move. 'I'm going to get caught!' Is all that plays in her brain.

"The last nurse I asked to do this ended her shift early! That's coming out of her paycheck, I can assure you," She opens the door. Inside a man sits on the bed, "I just need you to check his levels, I'll be back shortly."

The man abruptly speaks,

"Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but I have somewhere to be."

She snorts, "I am not legally able to release you, sir, until we make sure you're healthy enough to go."

And with that, she shuts the door. Eva stands alone in a room with a complete stranger.

He has dark black hair, only a couple strands of grey. A relatively full black beard, not too long, just enough to cover his face. His eyes were big, a sense of familiarity struck her mind.

"Well, are you gonna check me or what?" His rough voice brings her back to reality.

She nervously takes a step closer to him, looking at his injured arm. He was wearing a sling, but the bandages were actually around his shoulder.

She hesitantly looks at the equipment in front of her. She knows how to use a stethoscope, easy. Put it over the heart, and then the lungs, front and back. She knows that you wrap some sort of band around your arm and puff it up, place the stethoscope over the pulse and count--- but she doesn't know what the hell to count to--- or what the hell she's even counting in the first place!

Her hands start to get even more sweaty, 'No, Eva, you can't break now. You'll get caught,' she tells herself.

"Listen, kid, I'll tell you what," He stands up from the bed, and she jumps back, his assertive behavior shocking her, "You clearly don't know what you're doing, so, I'll make you a deal."

She doesn't agree, but she doesn't stop him either, just staring at him. She had gotten this far, but her body was starting to break down--- stray from courage and freeze up.

"If you pretend I was never here, I'll pretend you were never here, got it?" He asks. He stares her dead in the eye, his authoritative tone making her slowly nod.

She looks to him, as he grabs some of his items in the room. She turns around-- 'guess it's time to go.'

"You tryna' get caught?" His voice startles her, making her turn around to look at him once again, "Take this hair tie and put your hair up, you look a mess."

He holds out the band to her, his hand bloodied and bruised. She shakily takes it, knowing what the man said is true. She swiftly slicks her hair down and tries to place it into the neatest bun she could.

"Why...why are you helping me?" She says, not able to stop the words coming out from her mouth.

He directs his brutal gaze back to her once again. She feels small beneath his eyes, quickly averting her vision to the ground.

"Fine. Give me the damn hair tie back then,"

"-No!" She yelps.

"You wanna keep it, kid? Then stop asking questions and get your ass outta here."

He extends his hand once again, this time holding a pack of cigarettes.

"Say you're going out for a smoke,"

She takes it from his hand. She was still shaking from nerves, but she didn't hesitate this time. Sure, it's odd that this man is helping her, but she'll take anything she can get at the moment. Especially because now she's sure that without the hair tie and cigs, she probably would've gotten caught. Getting out of this hospital, it's all or nothing. And she's all in. She turns around, facing the door.

She glances back to the man, rummaging through his stuff, sending him an awkward 'thanks I guess' smile. He doesn't return it, he just continues what he's gathering up. She huffs out a big breath, containing her anxiety the best she could before turning the door handle.  

She's met with the noises of the hospital hallways once again. The fear driving her legs in pursuit. She walks, reminding herself once again to remain calm, confident--- like you've done nothing wrong. She can't get caught, not now. And as she makes it to the door, the entrance to the Lobby, she pushes it open. She's met with instantly cooler air. She's one step closer, just one step closer to freedom.

Seeing this as her golden opportunity, she walks through, heading right toward the main entrance to outside.

She can feel her fear running, soaring through her body. Her stomach rising and stirring, like she could puke from how scared she was. It was weird, to be this mortified, feeling like she's running for her life in...in just a hospital? A place people go to save lives. Yet, here she was, walking as fast as she could without looking raising awareness, trying to escape.

She starts walking a little faster, hastier. She begins to feel the nerves simmering on her skin and rising up, needing to get out of there as soon as possible. Her body was heating up, sweating up a storm. Her body was like a time-bomb ticking away. She was praying over and over in her head, begging God to have mercy on her.

But at that moment, a Security Guard standing by the door gives her an odd look. She feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, her stomach doing flips---she tries to keep walking.

"Where you headed?" The Guard asks her. His eyes slightly narrowed. She takes in a deep breath, before reminding herself once again-- be cool. She halts her movements, facing the man. She clutches the stranger's gift tightly in her hand, remembering her safety net.

She smiles an awfully fake smile, holding up the pack, "Needed a smoke."

He nods his head, his suspicions vanishing. Relief flooding her senses.

And as she continues to walk, she gets closer and closer, her mind spiraling at the feeling. The door is just right there, the outside world just right there, and she won't be in danger any longer. She'll be free to find her family, to find Sam and Dean, to be safe and to soon be able to finally go home.

She reaches the door, pushes it open.

The night air has never been so clear.

She felt as if all of her nerves melted away and drifted up into the sky. The cool breeze of midnight, sweeping away her worries. The peaceful, glowing moon, showing her light. She no longer feels trapped. And she smiles up to the dark atmosphere, stars cutting their way through the darkness. She grasps the cigarettes firmly to her chest. And she closes her eyes tightly, 'Thank God.'

After a moment of winding down. She opens her eyes back up, coming to terms with reality. 'Those damn Winchester's better be alive, God knows, I'm going to beat them silly for leaving me like that.'

But, now she's met with a new problem. She has to find a way to Lotus Motel on Semple street, with no money, no car, and no phone.

(Hope you guys loved it!!!! Let me know xoxox) 

[cloudy-coyote]