Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTER

vii. | don't forget to breathe

Disclaimer; Newsflash, I don't own Supernatural. And Vampires pee.

AFTER A LONG DELAY: HERE YOU GO!

Dead in the Water; Part Two

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"Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it starts and stops." -Edgar Allan Poe

EMERY STARED AT THE SCENE IN front of her. It was exactly like the picture Lucas had drawn. The church was close to the exact same in the picture, and the house in the background was similar too.

The only thing that was different was the red bike in the picture wasn't there in real life. Or the little boy.

Emery followed behind Dean and Sam, looking around the neighbourhood. If she was a normal person, she would have loved to live in a place like this (without the whole vengeful spirit thing (she still had no clue how she knew.))

Emery made sure to stay behind the boys as she walked, wondering what was with her and her monster sense. Was she like Lucas? After thirteen years of mourning the death of her parents she was finally feeling the aftermath of it all. Was that why she could tell what monster they were hunting? The conversation they had on the way over did little to reassure her.

And, honestly, she was a little scared to find out why she could do that.

Emery was also thinking about what John was possibly doing. Did he get any leads on yellow eyes? And if so, did he kill it already? Would he be back for the boys anytime soon?

The biggest question was if he was going to tell them or not.

When they were let into the house, Dean, Sam and Emery started their investigation.

"We are sorry to bother you, ma'am, but does a little boy live here by chance?" Emery asked the lady who lived in the house.

"He might wear a blue ball caps and has a red bicycle," Dean added as an afterthought, looking at the older woman.

She looked down, seemingly saddened, "No, sir," she closed her eyes, and Emery frowned. "Not for a very long time."

The lady led them into her house, Emery looked at all the decor she had, but also the pictures that were either sitting around the den or hanging on the wall. There were lots of pictures of a little boy and his friends, or of what Emery assumed were his family.

"Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now," the lady sighed. "The police never — I never had any idea what happened." She turned away from looking at her son's picture.

"He just disappeared," She explained further. "Loosing him–" Emery felt someone nudge her, and turned to look at Sam, who jerked his jaw in the direction of a table. Sitting on it was some green army men — the toys Lucas played with. "You know, it's–it's worst than dying!"

Emery watched as the lady swallowed thickly, obviously trying to hold in her tears. The hunter felt bad, simply because she had no idea what happened to Peter and Emery couldn't imagine the grieving she had gone through. To have your child die before you? That must take a toll on a person.

"Did he go missing from here?" Dean's voice broke the silence. "I mean, from this house?"

"He was supposed to–" She swallowed again, "–to ride his bike straight home after school and he never showed up."

The three hunters exchanged a look, before looking at all the pictures again. Dean ended up finding one with two boys in it, one obviously Peter, who had his arm around the other one's shoulders. He plucked it off the spot attached to the mirror, examining it before turning it over. Emery noticed some writing on the back and read over Dean's shoulder.