² Deception - Dean Winchester

Eighteen

Jenny paced back and forth in the motel room as Sam sat at the a table looking through several files, his leg bouncing up and down anxiously. Jenny was nibbling on her thumbnail, eyes wide with thought.

"You don't think they'll actually give Dean the death sentence, do you? I mean... Usually they only do that to people like Ted Bundy or— or John Wayne Gacy. People that have killed over a dozen humans." Jenny asked, Sam glancing at her with worry.

"Dean's getting the death penalty?" He mumbled, and the woman shrugged, shaking her head before biting her thumb again.

"I mean, I don't think he would. He didn't kill anyone. Technically speaking... But that doesn't even matter! He's not a serial killer."  Jenny twisted her hair nervously around her finger, biting it occasionally. Sam looked back at her, frowning.

"I haven't seen you do that in a while." Jenny spat her hair out of her mouth.

"Do what?"

"You know. Get this nervous. Dean will be fine, Jenny. He'll figure a way out. He always does." Just then, someone knocked on the door. Jenny turned to it quickly, rushing to the motel door and looked through the peep hole.

"Oh boy." She mumbled, looking to Sam. "It's Ballard." Jenny mouthed, Sam's eyes widening and he stood up quickly. Jenny slowly opened the door, staring at Ballard.

The two held eye contact for a moment before Ballard walked in, revealing her wrists. Sam and Jenny shared another look, then turned to Ballard.

"You saw it?" Jenny asked, brows raised as the other woman nodded, hesitating.

"Alright, you need to tell us exactly what you saw." Sam demanded, Jenny slowly sitting down in preparation.

"You know, I must be losing my mind. You two are fugitives. I should be arresting you!" Ballard waved her hands around her head, Jenny shaking hers.

"You can arrest us later. But right now you need our help, and we need yours. So start talking, Regan." Sam and Ballard looked at Jenny in confusion, shaking their heads. "What did it look like?"

"She was, um, really pale, and her throat was cut, and her eyes, they were like, this deep dark red? It appeared like she was trying to talk to me. But she couldn't. It was just... a lot of blood." Ballard explained as Jenny thought for a moment.

"Well, definitely not a Woman In White." She muttered to herself, though Sam could partially hear her and nodded in agreement. He snapped his fingers, walking over to the table again.

"You know what? Here. I've been researching every girl that's ever died or gone missing from Ashland Street." Ballard and Jenny followed Sam, looking over his shoulders at the papers in his hands.

"How'd you get those? Those are from crime scenes, and booking photos." Ballard questioned, Sam and Jenny slowly looking to her.

"You have your job, we have ours. Here." Sam handed Ballard a stack of photos, tapping them. "I need you to look through these, tell me if you recognize anyone."

Ballard sat down at the table and flipped through the stack. On the third photo, a young woman's booking photo, she stopped, eyes widening.

"This is her. I'm sure of it." Jenny took the photos, reading the title.

"Claire Becker. Twenty eight years old, disappeared about eight or nine months ago." Jenny looked to Sam, shrugging.

"But I don't even know her. I mean, why would she come after me?"

"Well, before her death, she was arrested twice. For dealing heroin. You ever work narcotics?" Sam read from Claire's file, glancing down at Ballard. She sighed, nodding.