Selfless // Dean Winchester

19. The Bar

   "You're sure she was seen here?" asked Y/N as the Impala rolled up to the bar. It was on a big street just outside Atlanta lined with post offices, small museums, and modern-looking coffee shops.

   "That's what Ellen's friend said," replied Sam as he parked the car at the curb. "He said she's been in here every day for four days."

   "Ellen Harvelle?"

   "You know her?"

   "She and Jo helped me out a couple of times."

   "Small world."

   On the inside, it was like no other bar Y/N had ever been to. There was no pool table, for starters, and the tables, counters, and stools were new and polished. Everything was too...neat. She felt rather out of place in her faded jacket, jeans and sneakers, but reminded herself that they were there for Ali.

   Two customers were in the room. A man with his back toward them and a familiar dark-haired girl at the counter. She wasn't drinking, just twisting her hands together in a nervous manner.

   Sam and Y/N approached her on either side. Ali noticed them, recognized them, and drew in a deep breath as she stopped moving her hands.

   "We just want to talk," said Y/N, keeping her expression calm so the bartender wouldn't become alarmed.

   "But still try not to do anything stupid," said Sam.

   "What do you want?" whispered Ali.

   "The coven of witches your aunt mentioned. Where is it?"

   Ali stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

   "We don't want trouble," Y/N put in, looking sideways at the girl. "We just want to talk to them."

   "They don't care," said Ali. "They've been around for hundreds of years. They're excellent at keeping off the hunters' radar. How do you think they're still alive?"

   "Tell us where they are," said Sam threateningly. Ali glanced down to see the gun he was pointing at her beneath the counter. "You don't want to cause a scene, do you?"

   "Okay," said the girl with a terrified look. "Okay. Truth is... I don't know."

   "You don't know?" Y/N raised her eyebrows.

   "I've been meeting this witch here for a few days. Something about examining whether I'm allowed to be in the coven. She's been very vague. But I won't help you, I won't! You killed my aunt."

   Y/N and Sam glanced at each other. Y/N motioned for them to move away and speak privately.

   "I believe her," said Y/N, crossing her arms, as soon as they were sure Ali wasn't in earshot.

   "So do I."

   "We're scaring her. You know the things she was being taught. We can't get on her bad side."

   "Got any ideas on how to get to the coven?"

   Y/N held up a bracelet.

   He frowned. "What does that mean?"

   "I just slipped it off Ali's wrist. I know a couple of tracking spells, and using this, I can know where she is at all times. If she gets accepted into the coven, this is how we'll find them."

   "It can't be that easy," said Sam doubtfully. "They've been in hiding for centuries."

   "Is that who I think it is?" said Y/N suddenly, pointing at the one other customer in the bar, sitting at a table with his head in his hands. "Mr. Blake." She was walking toward him before Sam could protest.

   The suited man lifted his head when she sat down across the table. An empty bottle and another nearly empty one were on the table in front of him. "Agent Carson?" he said.

   "Hi. Call me Courtney."

   "What are you doing here?"

   "Off-duty. What are you doing here?"

   He nodded to the bottles and shrugged. "Coping. They're holding a party in Willow's honor tomorrow. I'm supposed to make a speech." His sleeves had been rolled up a bit, showing off a shiny silver watch on his left wrist. Y/N noticed it and his story about being attacked began to make sense.

   "No one believes me," Blake went on. "But I saw her. I'm not crazy."

   "I believe you," said Y/N softly, looking into his brown eyes. "And I think I can help you prove it."

   "Really?" Hope crossed his face.

   "Do you have access to the security footage from the building you work at?"

   "I already thought of that. I don't have clearance."

   "The FBI would." A smile tugged at the corner of Y/N's mouth.

   "I know she isn't dead," Blake said eagerly.

  Oh, honey, she is likely dead. Killed by a shapeshifter who then tried to kill you, but was taken aback by that silver watch of yours, thought Y/N. But she only smiled and gave him her phone number.

____________________________________________________________

   "What took so long?" grumbled Dean when they returned to the motel room.

   "You're so ungrateful," said Y/N, rolling her eyes as she set the bag of food they'd picked up on the way back on the table. "We ran into Mr. Blake."

   He glanced at her, a little more quickly than he meant to. "Yeah?"

   "Yeah. We just need to break into the surveillance room at his office. See if any cameras caught the attack and check the eyes. That's how we'll know it's a shapeshifter and Blake will stop thinking he's crazy."

   "A shapeshifter?" Dean frowned. "What makes you think that?"

   Y/N pointed to her wrist. "Blake's got a silver watch. It explains why the shifter ran away."

   "You and Blake are getting awfully friendly, ain't you?" said Dean, trying to sound nonchalant.

   "You got a problem with that?" Y/N raised her eyebrows.

   "It's just that...he's wanted dead by a shifter. If it gets him, you might take it pretty hard."

   Y/N scoffed and turned away.