2* I don't own Supernatural.
Slight Hocus Pocus reference. Bambi reference. And a reference from The Blair Witch Project. I don't own any of these movies.
As of right now, this is only a one-shot. But I might someday feel motivated to add a chapter, or turn it into a multi-chapter.
More or Less Than One Lets On
Weren't small-town diners supposed to have good, pleasant, home-cooked-style meals?
Why did the sandwich taste like something out of a gas station hot dog roller?
She cringed against the taste of stale cooking oil and shoved it aside. Bringing the bowl of soup closer, she thought that it couldn't possibly be any worse. It was chicken noodle. Come on, how does one mess that up?
She cringed again as she took the bowl away from her lips. Jesus, how did the chef here manage to do that?
Still, she shrugged, went back to the heart attack that was the sandwich, and then washed it down with…whatever flavor you would call that soup. A meal was a meal, after all. And besides, one shouldn't let fifteen dollars from a scratch-off win go to waste.
Finally done with the food – and this unintelligent little town as a whole – she gripped her backpack and was in the process of getting up and slinging it over her shoulders.
"Uh, miss, before you leave, could I have a few words," a professional voice from somewhere in the diner asked. It sounded like someone on official business, which didn't surprise her. This town had lost its mind within the last few days, and residents were demanding answers. This meant questioning from a lot of the cops in the area.
She snorted and shook her head slightly. Pandering to people wasn't her job. She was washing her hands of it. Still, she glanced up, vaguely wondering what other lackwit townie was going to be interviewed by this police officer.
Except…it wasn't an officer. She paused to observe the man. He wore a very simple suit and tie. He was tall, very tall, with slightly long hair. He also had a kind and professional smile.
A smile that was directed at her.
She raised a brow at him. Oh. So his question was directed at me? Great. Sighing slightly through her nose, she put her bag aside and sat down again, waving a hand to gesture for him to sit across from her.
He nodded once as he came over. "Thanks. This'll only take a moment of your time."
"I…have plenty of time, I suppose," she responded.
Before sitting down, he presented her a card with large blue letters on it that read 'FBI'. "My name is Agent Young, and my brother and I-" His eyes widened for a second when she suddenly snatched the card right out of his hands.
What surprised him was how smoothly she took it, and the fact that he couldn't remember anyone ever having done that before. She scrutinized it closely, and after a slight hum she returned it to him. He paused for a split second before finally taking.
"Uh," he said, not quite sure how to respond to any of that. "Everything good?"
"Sure," she simply said. "So. You and your brother…?"
"Right," he said instantly, getting back on track and sitting down at the table. "Me and my brother are investigating the recent murders in the surrounding woods. We're going around interviewing people."
"A small-town string of murders? In the woods? Less than ten deaths? Sounds like a job for the local police and game wardens to settle it. Why would the…FBI feel the need to intervene?"
"Well," he said, casually clasping his hands on the table in front of him. "You never know. Could be nothing, could be something. We just happened to be close by and thought everyone here could use help."
Not realizing she'd crossed her arms, she slowly uncrossed them and leaned back in her seat. "Just wanted to help."
"Of course," he said. "That's what we do." He unclasped his hands briefly to take out a pen and paper. He thought he heard her mutter something, as if once again repeating what he'd just said. "What was that," he asked.
"Nothing," she denied calmly. "You were saying?"
"We're going around interviewing the locals. No one in particular. Just getting everyone's take on things." He sat the pen and paper in front of him with a sigh. "And trying to find witnesses, if there are any."
She half-smirked. "Hard to pin down an aggressor with no witnesses, huh? Might as well interrogate the whole town."
He held his hands up in mock-defense. "It's not an interrogation, I swear. Just routine protocol."
"Of course," she said lightly. "But I'm afraid you'll get nothing from me. I'm not a local. I don't know anything about this town. Just passing through. I'm planning on leaving tonight or tomorrow." She glanced cynically around the diner at the other people. "And I'm very happy about that."
"Oh. Yeah, okay," he said instantly, putting his things away and getting ready to stand back up. "That's understandable with all the horrific things that have been happening around here. No wonder you were in the process of leaving. Didn't mean to disturb you." But before he left the table, he paused. And he found himself staring at her.
She stared right back at him. Feeling a little impatient, she tried to ignore the way her jaw clenched at being analyzed so closely like this. "What?"
"Well," he started as he settled in the chair once more. "It's just…This seems to be a close-knit community. Not a tourist town, from what we researched. Heck, this place isn't even on most maps. There isn't even a gas station here. Next one is ten miles out." He paused to glance out the window at an old but sleek Chevy before turning his attention back to her. "Why pass through here if there isn't much going on?" He then found himself beginning to frown.
Now that he wanted to try and get a little more information from her, he found himself observing her more closely out of involuntary reflex. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something seemed off about her demeanor. One minute she was casually leaning back in her seat as if she couldn't be bothered, the next she was crossing her arms and even scrutinizing him.
He shook his head, though. She did seem a little on the defensive side, but that could be because she was eager to leave, and he'd clearly interrupted that. He didn't want to jump to conclusion, but still…
She now fully smirked at him, but her eyes were narrowed, too. "You don't leave anything out, do you?"
He shook his head. "Wouldn't be agents if we did."
She snorted. "Well, you can calm your inner detective. I'm not your villain. My reasons are simple. I prefer small towns like this. Out of the way of larger cities and any hustle and bustle. I find it peaceful."
He tilted his head. "Not a people person?"
"Oh, hell no, I can't stand people."
He couldn't help but chuckle at her direct and blatant answer. "And yet you choose places where people are much more community-driven?"
"Touché." She pointed at him, chuckling a little as well. Then, she shook her head at him. "Can I leave now?" He pursed his lips, trying to think of a reason to ask more questions, making her roll her eyes. "Come on, man."
"Look, here's what you've given me so far," he said, listing off some admittedly fair points. "Person who isn't from here, who doesn't like people, who doesn't seem to like these people in particular, is a little impatient…" He cringed a little. "You can't deny it's all a little suspicious."
She broke eye contact with him to pinch the bridge of her nose and give an exasperated groan. "Fine," she said as her hand fell away. "Fire away, I guess."
He took hold of his pen and paper. "Is there anything you can tell us? Any suspicious behavior that you've seen or might've even been involved with?"
"You are definitely not gonna leave me be, are you?"
Once again, she was staring at him, directly into his eyes. Unwavering. It left none to the imagination how much she wasn't interested in being a part of this conversation anymore. Despite this, there was also a confidence in the way she held herself. She didn't want to be in the diner anymore, but he could tell that backing down wasn't her strong suit.
"I'm sorry," he answered, and she almost laughed at how genuine he was truly trying to sound. "But I have to do everything I can for these people. This town has lost a lot of lives, and it hasn't even been a week since it all started. I have to rule out you being a potential suspect at this point."
At some point, in the middle of his reasoning, her demeanor began to change. Her shoulders, which had been proudly raised the entire conversation, appeared to relax some. Her arms uncrossed to fold themselves on the table as she casually leaned forward. No, casual wasn't the right word. She seemed almost at ease.
Whatever he had said, it apparently had gotten through to her.
She began. "I haven't seen anything. Nothing concrete, that is. But I have heard things."
He fidgeted the pen. "Like what?"
"All kinds of noises," she said, her tone still a little defensive, but slightly more conversational now. "Even after moving my campsite around."
"You…Your campsite? As in, in the woods?"
"No, in this here diner," she instantly responded, followed by a bland and sarcastic stare.
"Just…Wait one sec." He turned in his chair and shouted a 'hey'. There was another man, slightly shorter and with cropped-style hair. He was wearing a suit almost identical to Agent Young's, and he was leaning over the counter chatting up a waitress. The man held up his finger, instructing that he would be over shortly.
Young groaned under his breath and shook his head as he turned his attention back to the woman in front of him.
She was snickering. "I take it that's your brother over there. Seems like an intense and dire conversation he's having with her."
He huffed, a smile playing on his lips. "Yeah. Sorry. He…gets distracted sometimes."
She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Fifteen bucks says he'll search her mouth for evidence."
He had to laugh at that, his shoulders shaking.
Still snickering, she added, "Hey, you're the one who agreed that you guys don't leave anything out. If I'm right, then that fifteen bucks you'll have to cough up will pay for my dinner."
"Okay," he said around the last of his chuckling. "Deal." He stuck his hand out. For a split second, he could've sworn she'd flinched at that, the way her eyes immediately blinked. But he'd more than likely imagined it, because she was laughing as well while she shook his hand once and firmly.
"You two sound like you're having fun," the other agent quipped as he finally made his way over. "So, what? Are you exchanging numbers?" He nudged Agent Young's shoulder with his elbow. "A little bit unprofessional, don'tcha think?"
Young gave him a sour look and his hand twitched as if to shove him, but he tried his best not to take the bait. "Actually, if you must know, I think we're making progress." He nodded at her. "She said she's been camping in the woods."
The other agent instantly sobered, grabbed a chair, and sat next to his brother. "Really," he asked. "What've you two got so far?"
"Nothing," she said. "We were waiting on you, Mr…?"
"Oh. Here." It was his turn to take out his ID card. "I'm Agent-" And just like Young's card, she took this one from the agent in a quick and smooth motion. "Uh…" he stammered a little. "You know that ID is official government property and whatnot?"
"You can wait 'til I'm done to have your precious card back," she responded.
Stalling, the other agent briefly glanced at Young, who only shrugged at him. Not a second later, she was chuckling under her breath as she handed back the card.
Feeling his ego crumble, he arrogantly asked, "Disrespecting the badge? That's a, uh, capital offense, you know."
"Is it," she asked with a growing smirk. "You don't seem too certain about that."
"Oh, trust me, it totally is. Ten years jail time. Community service…Parole." He then nudged Young again, this time a little more harshly because he, too, was smirking at the scene. "Man, back me up, will you," he muttered.
"So," she tried to clear her throat, remembering that she wanted to get this interview over and done with. "Agent Johnson... Agent Young. Nice to meet you." She couldn't stop herself, though, and the smirk returned. "Hey, either of you ever seen AC/DC in concert per chance?"
"Mere coincidence," Johnson replied in an effort not to lose face. "We get that all the time."
"Right, of course, my mistake," she shook her head. "Can we get back to the matter at hand? I want to leave soon."
"You said you were hearing noises, around your campsite," Young reminded.
"What were you even doing in the woods to begin with," Johnson asked. "With all the stuff that's been going on?"
"I was just telling Young that I don't live here," she explained. "Just stopped here to take a breather. I set up a camp in the woods. I didn't know anything was going wrong in this town. No, I experienced it firsthand."
"And what did you experience," Young asked.
She flexed her jaw, trying to find the best way to describe things. "Like I said, I didn't see anything. Eh, some scuffed ground and scratches on trees, but I figured those were either from bear claws or antlers."
As she explained further, Young began writing things down.
"That first night was a weird one. I kept hearing echoes and rumbles and trees rustling. I didn't think too much of it. Thought it was some townie messing around in a bigfoot suit." She paused with a comical smile. "I've seen that on more than one occasion. It's hilarious how simple pranks like that can really piss off a neighborhood."
Johnson cracked a smile, until he noticed Young's serious expression. His brother, ever the wet blanket. He cleared his throat and said, "Yeah, well, this is no laughing matter, so…"
She nodded calmly and seriously. "Yeah. It really isn't. Because the next morning I went further up the mountain. Wanted to try some fishing up there." She exhaled sympathetically. "That campsite I stumbled upon...It was like a massacre. Both the bodies had been shredded. Not even eaten, either. So whatever did it wasn't hungry. What a loss."
Young tilted his head, his suspicion growing. "You know, most people who stumble upon that kind of thing normally sound shocked, upset, even traumatized. You were expecting a peaceful hike and got that instead and…you sound pretty matter-of-factly about it."
She shrugged. "Well, it's not like I knew either of them. But I'm being genuine when I say it truly is a loss. No person should ever lose their life in such a manner. That's just plain grisly."
"So, you're not at your campsite anymore," Johnson mused. "I take it you're here in town to report the bodies."
"Oh, no, that was days ago. And I had found a radio in that campsite to report the bodies. I radioed whoever would listen and let them know the location of the corpses. After that, I continued on."
"Onto where," Johnson asked.
She glanced between the two as if it were obvious. "Fishing. Come on, guys, keep up."
The brothers stared at each other for many seconds before looking at her again in sheer astonishment.
"So, let's get this straight," Young started slowly. "You heard weird noises the night before, stumbled onto a murder scene the very next day…and then you went fishing."
"I don't get it," she suddenly said, as if now speaking to herself. "Why are reactions like that not normal for most people?"
"Yeah, no," Johnson said. "We should be asking you that question."
"Oh, well, I don't have an answer," she remarked.
When Johnson leaned forward to ask more, because clearly this woman had a few screws loose, Young placed a hand on his arm. "Let's just…put a pin in that, Agent Johnson. So," he continued. "You said you don't like people. What made you eventually come out of the woods and into town, if not to report the bodies?"
She shrugged. "I heard the bar here had a pool table, and I can't resist a challenge."
"So, you didn't come into town…to escape the woods, is what you're saying," Johnson clarified.
"There was no reason to escape," she corrected. "Nothing bad had happened to me. I'm not gonna pretend it was all rainbows and sunshine, though. The further upstream I went, the more obscure things got. Bone fragments on forgotten hiking trails, scratch marks in the gravel along the river, torn pieces of clothing and tent fabric here and there. Something seems to definitely be going on up there." She stopped to take a sip of water.
After Young was done writing some things down, he looked up and said, "Is there anything else you can think of?"
"Like I said, I did some fishing, caught nothing, and then it felt like something was following me on my way back. You know, gut feeling, hair standing up and all that. I stopped, trying to figure out why I was feeling this way. When I did so, that's when the growling started. I stood there for a while, trying to figure out what animal it was. Growling got louder and louder the longer I was there. Then, it stopped as soon as I continued walking away."
"Like you said," Johnson reminded "There are bears in these parts."
She shook her head slowly. "Maybe. It got me curious, though. I went down, packed up my campsite and went further up the mountain before it got too dark."
"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Young exclaimed. "You don't mean that you moved further up the mountain…as in to get closer to this thing…Right?"
She nodded once, unperturbed.
Johnson abruptly turned to Young and stage-whispered. "Man, I don't know where you found this one at, but I think she escaped from somewhere."
"Dude," Young scolded him.
"No, it's fine," she interrupted. "You're not the first to call me crazy and you won't be the last. Do you want me to keep going or not, unless you wanna continue to gawk at me?"
Young glared at his brother for a moment before turning back to her. "Ignore him…and our unprofessionalism. We're sorry. Please continue," Young said.
"You don't need to apologize," she muttered. "Not much fazes me, I don't really know why, but anyway. Yes, I went towards where this creature seemed to be hanging out. But I didn't just…tear my way through. I took it day by day. I started at a certain point, and worked my way back down.
"I started up by the part of the stream where I'd first heard it. And damn was it pissed. You could've sworn it was full-on roaring at me by nightfall. I could hear it pacing around my campsite. I could see plants and undergrowth moving, but it was too dark to see where it was exactly. Let alone what it was. It was just pacing. I was sitting around the campfire. I didn't move, didn't go looking for it, didn't threaten it. I held my ground and hung out there, wondering just what the hell it was and what it wanted."
"And it never attacked you," Young pointed out.
"Obviously not," she said. "All of my scars are old, so no."
"Why do you think that is?"
She looked at them contemplatively before seemingly moving on to something else. "Over the next few days I moved my campsite further and further away. The creature was still lurking about. I could sometimes hear it throughout the day, but it definitely sounded like it had more energy at night."
"How do you figure," Johnson asked.
"It sounded like it would growl and move less sluggishly, if that makes any sense. But then there were times where I couldn't hear it at all, times where I knew I wasn't being followed at that moment." She shook her head pityingly. "I now know that it was probably because it was taking a break from me to kill others. Either way, it didn't do anything to me."
"You gotta realize that makes you the only person to have survived in those woods these past couple of days," Young pointed out.
She tsked. "Just lucky, I guess."
"Yeah, lucky for us," Johnson said. "You're the first person in hours who's actually given us anything useful to work with."
"So what do you think it could be," Young asked.
Again, another contemplative pause from her. "Never saw it. Don't know."
"You seem like you know your way around woodlands. Any animal you can think of?"
She shook her head. "Not one this analytical. Good luck to you." Without another word on the matter, she took hold of her backpack. She stood up, slung it over her shoulders and…She looked at them. The brothers were now looking at each other, having some form of silent conversation. Their expressions were serious, but also calm and collected and…concerned. Concerned for this town. It was something she hadn't seen on people like them before.
The backpack sagged on her back. Damn herself.
"If you want," she told them, getting their attention. "I can show you the best route to get to where you need to go." She placed her hands on the table, looking down at them, staring them firmly in the eyes. "But after that, that's it."
It was dark by the time they arrived. The three of them sat in the Impala, at the edge of the state park. They analyzed the trails, nearly all of which went uphill into the mountain, fading into the dense woodlands. Now, they were all looking at a map of the park, while she drew lines over specific trails and landmarks, all the while explaining where she'd moved her camp each and every time.
"It looks like you mostly kept to the…northeast? Next to the stream?" Young asked these questions.
"Let's connect some dots here," Johnson said as he looked at the map with only mild interest. Maps were his brother's forte. All Johnson wanted to do was get the hell out of the car and take care of this thing. "It's more active at night, sometimes active during the day, doesn't mind being near water, kills but doesn't eat, and doesn't seem to give a rat's ass about this crazy one," he concluded, jabbing a finger towards their passenger.
"Man, shut up," Young grumbled as they continued inspecting the map.
"No, man, I'm serious. That part ain't worth forgetting."
Young rolled his eyes and practically slapped him with the map. "Look. She started here. Then she decided to go towards it, and then she slowly worked her way back down the mountain. And if you were paying attention to anything we've talked about, you would know that she kept a pattern, and the thing was slowly losing interest in her."
"So?"
"If we do something similar, we might be able to figure this out without getting ourselves killed. But instead of doing it over a couple day period, we do this throughout the night."
Johnson paused to absorb that, but decided to shrug anyway. "Whatever, man. I just don't like how freakin' weird all this is."
"Sorry about him," Young muttered to her.
"Stop apologizing," she shrugged. "I know how it all must sound."
"It sounds like you've spent a lot of time with this creature, so to speak," Young said as he folded up the map and pocketed it. "You never really answered our question. What do you think it is?"
"I never saw it."
"That doesn't answer the question."
"Screw you for being a smartass," she said, her voice deadpanned, but with no real heat. This caused Johnson to laugh once and point childishly at Young.
She placed her arms on the backrest of the front seat, staring out the windshield into the woods. "Y'all ever seen The Blair Witch Project?"
"Yup," they both answered at the same time.
"Damn fool kids'll never learn," she shook her head as she quoted. "Maybe it's a bear. Maybe it's a cougar. Or maybe Bambi's just having a bad week. Won't know until you see it. The kicker is the downright idiocy of the public.
"Everybody in this town is beyond pissed. And protective. Something up there is killing their friends, family, or neighbors. They're not thinking. They got their pitchforks and torches ready and, what do you know, more people are getting killed when they go up there."
She rubbed her eyes. "People are seeking it out, and then they're surprised and scared when they get just that. I went towards it at first, but I knew when to quit. Little by little, I moved away."
She paused to look at the two men. "I chose not to prod the goddamn bull. Unlike everyone else, and where did that get them?" She chuckled humorlessly. "Hey, when an animal kills a human, who's the one who gets blamed in that scenario?" She sat back in her seat. "This town is full of idiots. I sincerely hope you two aren't like that."
"We're not, 'cause we're the professionals," Johnson said. "'Cause you know…FBI Agents."
"Yeah," she muttered. "FBI Agents."
Young was quiet for a while, taking in everything she had said, everything she had told them thus far. "You think it's not going after people. People are going after it."
"Definitely. All of the bones and scratch marks I found? They were old. The creature's been up there for a pretty long time now. Longer than just a week. It's smart, too. It observed me for days. It was thinking before acting."
"Yeah, well, now's the time to act," Johnson said. "We gotta figure out what this thing is." He opened the car door. Before he got out, he looked back at her. "We're probably gonna be a few hours. You can wait here where it's safe, or head straight back to town, but it's gonna be a long walk."
"Oh, no, it's fine," she said, gathering up her backpack. "My campsite is a little bit west from here. You boys did me the favor by driving me here. So it's actually less of a walk for me. Thanks." As she spoke, she took quick inventory of the things in her backpack.
"All three of us now know that these woods are a no-go at night," Johnson said. "We don't need to be worrying about any campers out here while we take care of this thing."
"Well, lucky for you, I already know this thing's patterns, and...," she said distractedly. She pulled a revolver from out of her backpack, putting her focus on that to make sure it looked clean. Once assured of that, she closed the cylinder and tucked the gun in the waistband at the small of her back. "…And I have bullets in the chambers." She gave them both a sarcastic smile. "I'm a big girl. I'm pretty certain I'll be fine."
Johnson shook his head at her. "Fine. Go run around in the woods and see what happens."
"I was about to say the same thing about you guys," she chuckled as she started to get out of the car. But then, the humor left her, and before she got out she turned to them both and said, "In my opinion, it's not always worth it to go looking for trouble. But who am I talk when trouble tends to find me," she snorted. "Having said that, I don't think it's necessary to go after it. The people of this town are the ones asking for trouble. You guys aren't part of that town, same as me. So, just… Don't do anything stupid. I'd hate to see you guys in the obituaries."
"Same to you," Young said, looking her in the eyes. She stared at him before nodding once. And with that, she left the Impala to go down one of the trails and out of sight. He exhaled as they both began taking off the suit jackets, revealing their usual clothes underneath. "She was something else, don't you think, Dean?"
"Yeah," Dean scoffed. "Bat-crap crazy, that's what. And why the hell was she acting like she knew how to handle this thing when she doesn't even know what it is?"
Sam shrugged as he put their fake FBI cards in the glove compartment. "It took a lot of talking to get her to give us information." He closed the compartment and looked up towards the mountain, before looking in her direction. "Maybe she actually had an idea of what it was."
Dean stared at him with a scowl. "What, like, she knew more than she let on? I don't know, dude. She did end up giving us a lot of info."
"Yeah," Sam muttered. "Hey, don't get out yet." Raising a brow, Dean closed his door. "You know, maybe we ought to listen to her. Maybe we ought to think first before killing…whatever this is."
"Okay, look," he sighed in exasperation. "Sometimes we make exceptions, but Sam, this thing is killing people. We got a job to do." When Dean saw that Sam was still glancing between the mountain and the trail the woman went down, he sighed again. "Let's just see what happens when we get there. Now focus. Get her off your mind for a bit."
That's when Sam snapped his attention to Dean. "What?"
"You know," he snickered as they got out of the car and walked towards the trunk. "Her. The woman…whatever her name was." He laughed a little at him. "Did I catch you in a daze or something?"
"No. You didn't catch me in a daze," Sam glared at him. As they started gathering supplies and weapons from the trunk, he couldn't help but ask, "I don't think we ever did ask her for her name."
Dean was now chuckling. "We?"
"Shut up." He slapped his arm. "But seriously. We always keep track of names during a case. Victims, interviewees, anyone involved. Don't you think it's weird we didn't bother asking for hers?"
"To be fair everything about her was a little off," he commented, shutting the trunk and then locking up the Impala. "The way she reacts to things wasn't normal. Come on, you can daydream about her later. Let's go take care of this."
Sam flipped him off as they silently walked towards the trails the woman had told them to go on.
She had been a wealth of information, compared to the rest of the town, that is. So, why was it that Sam thought there was more that hadn't been said?