The Haunting of Lockwood Estates | Nancy Drew x Supernatural Crossover 01

Chapter 1 - Dean

Rest E-Z Motel

Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania

Sunday 9 March 2008

A terrible sound jolts me awake. I look over to the nightstand next to me, and my cell phone rings again. I sigh tiredly and stare up at the ceiling. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. The familiar chemical smell of all the motels Sam and I stay in reminds me of the latest one we have been staying in for the past week--a small place in Pennsylvania. My cell phone continues to ring, and Sam stirs in the bed next to mine.

I sigh and lurch over, glaring at the small LED screen as I pick it up. I don't recognize the number but answer anyway.

"Hello?" I say groggily. I sit up and run a hand over my face. Sam sits up in his bed and attempts to wipe the tangle of messy hair from his eyes. He shoots me a questioning look, and I shrug in response.

"Are you, uh, Dean?" a man's voice asks.

A hundred thoughts run through my head. Sam and I are supposedly dead. The only ones who know otherwise--besides Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and the Ghostfacers (groan)--are the demons hunting us. Well, I suppose more accurately, hunting Sam.

Was I wrong to stop Ruby from doing that spell? I had to try to save everyone. I couldn't just let her cut out some virgin's heart, for Pete's sake. But still, those deaths hang over my head, even weeks after the fact.

I push away the feeling and force a smirk on my face. Sam would say I'm ignoring my "feelings" or whatever. So what if I am.

"Uh..." I say, thinking fast. My patience is running thin, I'm tired, and Sam and I have spent the past several weeks waiting for the other shoe to drop. The last thing I need right now is to have to deal with anyone else hunting us down.

"...Hello?" the man's voice says. I blink and shake my head a little to bring myself back to the present. "Mr. Singer?"

Singer? What the hell?

"You're looking for... 'Dean Singer'?" I ask hesitantly.

"Yeah. I got the number from Bobby Singer? Your uncle?"

I give a genuine grin. Bobby, you son of a bitch. So he's pimping us out for jobs now?

I chuckle a little. Of course he would send a job our way. Sam and I need to do something instead of sitting around arguing about whose turn it is to pick up more quarters for the Magic Fingers bed.

"Yeah," I say cheerfully, pinching the bridge of my nose to wipe away sleep, "This is Dean Singer. Who is this?" Sam gives me his classic "confused" look. I wink at him in response, suddenly feeling much more relaxed. Covering the mic with my hand, I whisper, "It's not a demon."

He rolls his eyes with a scoff and gets up.

"You've...you've got to help me," the man on the phone says, ignoring my question.

"...Help with what?" I ask, smile fading slightly, replaced with the familiar existential dread I face each morning, thanks to the clock in my head counting down each day until the hellhounds come.

"I think I'm being haunted!" he exclaims. He sounds desperate.

Haunted, huh? Sometimes, when people get emotional, suddenly everything can be passed off as something supernatural. And this guy sounds pretty emotional. I swear, if this turns out to be nothing...

But surely Bobby wouldn't have sent him our way without reason.

"Okay, well, have you seen anything weird lately?" I question.