The End | {BOOK 5}

12| I'm Your Huckleberry

"Still can't believe you brought your own hat," Sam shook his head at Dean.

"Well, I can't believe you didn't," Dean shot back.

Reaching into my own bag, I made sure both brothers were looking as I maintained eye contact and pulled out my own hat and placed it on my head.

"You too?" Sam groaned.

Dean was just grinning like an idiot at me as I winked and went back to settling in.

"You're both in a good mood, huh?" Sam observed.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "And?"

"Nothing. No, no, I-I-I just, uh... you've both been having a rough go, so it's... it's good to you guys smile."

"Well, I said I needed a win," I shrugged. "We got Cass back. That's a pretty damn big win."

"Yeah, fair enough," Sam nodded, grinning a little.

⁘

The next morning, we split up with Jack and Sam heading to the graveyard while Cass, Dean and I hit up a new crime scene that turned up in the night. Dean had dressed in his fed suit, a bolo tie, and his cowboy hat. I was in nicer jeans and a blue flannel, my own hat atop my head while Cass was wearing his own cowboy hat that had a band advertising the motel we were staying at. Dean and I were both wearing cowboy boots.

"Alright, listen, these Dodge City cops aren't likely to trust big city folks, so we're gonna have to blend," Dean stated.

"Which is why you're making me wear this absurd hat," Cass said.

"It's not that bad," Dean said, looking over. "Well, actually, yeah, it kind of is. Hang on."

He reached over, taking the band off the hat and throwing it in the back with me.

"Alright. That's better."

"Is it?"

"Yeah," Dean sighed. "Look, just act like you're from Tombstone, okay?"

"The city?"

"The movie," Dean and I chorused.

"With Kurt Russel?" I continued. "You watched it with Dean and I."

"Yeah, yeah," Cass nodded. "Yeah. The one with the guns and tuberculosis."

He looked over at us, making his voice sound more like a cowboy.

"'I'm your Huckleberry.'"

I snorted as Dean smirked a little.

"Yeah, exactly," my husband grinned. "Well, it's good to have you back, Cass. Alright, follow my lead. We'll fit right in."

We climbed out of the car, Dean flipping his hat on top of his head as we walked over to the crime scene.

"Howdy, partner," Cass greeted one of the people investigating with his same exaggerated twang.

"Who's in charge here?" Dean added.

The officer pointed to another man and Cass tipped his hat to him.

"Much obliged."

I fought to refrain from rolling my eyes as we made our way over to man in charge.

"Sheriff Phillips?" I asked.

"It's Sarge," he corrected me. "Sergeant Joe Phillips. Sheriff's on vacation."

"Well, I'm Agent Hoyt. These are my associates."

"Agent Russel," Dean tipped his hat, then looked over at Cass expectantly.

"Uh, Kilmer," Cass said. "My name is Val Kilmer."

"Yeah, okay," Sarge nodded dubiously. "What do you want?"

"Well, we heard about the attack over the wire last night," Dean replied. "Wondering what you can tell us about the victim."

"His name was Carl Phillips. Deputy Carl Phillips. He's... was my nephew. Some psycho slit his throat and left the body out for the coyotes to chew on. I knew that boy since he was a day old."

"Well, we're deeply sorry for your loss," Castiel told him.

Sarge cleared his throat, looking down at the ground.

"Anyway, what the hell's the Texas Rangers even doing up here?"

"Well, actually, we're FB-" Cass started.

"Rangers," Dean cut him off. "That's right. Texas Rangers."

"Mm hm," Sarge nodded, eyeing all three of us.

"We've been tracking a fugitive who skipped across state lines. He's a real mean son of a gun. He's been robbing graves."

"Oh. We got us one of them. Carl was the one looking into it. You think there's a connection?"

"Could be," I nodded.

"Well, you three are more than welcome to poke around, but... I catch up with your runner first, there ain't gonna be much left of him to take back to Texas," he informed us. "You can count on it."

"Mm," Dean nodded.

⁘

"Leftovers," Dean stated.

We were back at the motel and Jack and Sam were showing us a bone they'd found on their visit to the cemetery.

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "bite marks. Looks like a ghoul."

Jack looked over at Castiel, confused.

"Oh, a ghoul is a monster that feeds on the dead," Cass explained. "They can take on the form of whomever they've eaten. Decapitation kills them."

"Yeah, or bashing their brains in," I added.

Dean tossed the bone over to Cass.

"So like a... zombie shape-shifter?" Jack asked.

"Pretty much, yeah," Sam confirmed. "And he could have tunnels all over that graveyard."

"But if he could be anyone, how do we find it?"

Dean sighed, opening a beer and tossing the bottle cap.

"Can I just say I'm getting real sick and tired of fighting things that look like other things?"

"Maybe the ghoul is this Athena," Cass suggested.

"Yeah. A-a ghoul who owns a mortuary," Sam said. "That's smart, but..."

"No," I shook my head. "She's got access to the bodies before they're ever in the ground. Anything she wants, she would just take. She doesn't have to dig 'em back up."

"Right," Dean nodded in agreement.

Jack sat down at the table, typing away at his computer for a few minutes.

"I think I found something," he announced finally. "I tracked the plates on the stolen truck from the crime scene, and I went through the city's traffic cam footage, and look. This is it. From yesterday, before the deputy was killed."

"Well, then, who's driving?" Dean asked.

He crouched down in front of the computer, zooming in on the still footage.

"Holy crap," he breathed. "That's Dave Mather."

"Who?" Cass and Sam chorused.

"No way," I said, getting closer to look over Dean's shoulder.

"Dave Mather," Dean explained. "Cowboy. Outlaw. One of the Dodge City gang."

Standing up, Dean walked over and pulled Dave's picture off the wall.

"He was one of the greatest gunfighters ever. I mean, he died in 1886, which makes this a little weird, but..." he laughed. "Mysterious Dave Mather. I'm gonna get my boots on. One of the greatest gunslingers ever! Whoo!"

He disappeared into the other room, laughing to himself and I shook my head.

"You knew about it?" Sam asked me.

"Sam, I married Dean Winchester. I've picked up on a couple things over the years."