Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Eleven

"Oh my God, Sam!"

The two brothers had gone up to knock on Rebecca's door, while I opted to stay next to the car. I had little interest in stepping on their feet, and with the recent volatile nature of my mental state, interacting with other people who didn't know what I did wasn't something I was eager to do.

"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam greeted, and I could hear the genuine joy in his voice.

She laughed. "You know what you can do with that little Becky crap," she told him, leaning in for a hug.

"I got your email," he said as they pulled away from each other.

She nodded, exhaling loudly. "I didn't think that you would come here."

Dean stepped forward then, extending his hand. "Dean. Older brother."

Rebecca shook his hand, looking him up and down, clearly finding him attractive. "Hi."

He immediately turned on the charm, unabashedly flirting. "Hi."

Sam stepped in before anything happened, though. "We're here to help. Whatever we can do."

She nodded, moving out of the way and gesturing for them to go inside. "Come in."

As they moved past her, we made eye contact, but I quickly looked away. She turned to Sam, presumably asking him who I was, but I didn't catch that part.

Suddenly, a shiver went down my spine, as if somebody was watching me. I spun around, looking at the empty street, trying to see what could have caused that sort of reaction. There was no one there — at least, no one visible — but that didn't quell my fears. Most things that watched me weren't visible to everyone.

"Annabeth?"

I reluctantly glanced over my shoulder at him, still trying to figure out the source of my uneasiness. "You go on ahead. There's... something I need to see."

Sam gave me a look, and the way his brows furrowed, and he stood as if ready to walk towards me, told me he didn't think it was a good idea for me to go off on my own. So, I opened the car door, reaching into the backseat for my gun, and tucked it into my waistline in such a way that nobody could tell what I was doing except for him. It seemed to calm him enough, as he allowed Rebecca to close the door behind them.

Immediately, I walked across the street, my head on a swivel. At that point, my only plan was to walk around for a while, trying to see if I could figure out who — or what — had triggered my well-maintained defense mechanism.

It was a brisk October morning in St. Louis, and as I pulled on the fingerless gloves I kept in my jacket pockets, I found myself wondering if the shiver I'd felt was really just a shiver, from the cold. It was plausible, I supposed— maybe, after so long out of the game, my instincts had become a little out of whack. The thought crept into my mind, made me doubt myself, and I found myself slowly coming to a stop there on the sidewalk.

And then I felt it again.

Spinning on my heel, I saw a man standing across me on the sidewalk, staring at me. I couldn't make out his face very well, just saw that he had very dark hair and a goatee.

The minute I even gathered that much, he turned, walking away from me. I followed, not trying to make my intentions subtle, seeing as he already knew I'd seen him. In fact, it seemed like he'd wanted me to see him— or, at least, he'd wanted to see me.

He turned the corner, so I crossed the street, following him, but he left my line of sight behind a fence for a moment. When I finally rounded the bend... he was gone. Nowhere to be seen. Absolutely nowhere.

I went to take a step forward, but the sudden thought hit me that I had no idea what I was walking into. That man clearly had something to do with whatever happened to Sam's friend, but what was he? Was he just a normal, human psychopath? Or was he supernatural? I leaned towards the latter, but I didn't actually know. I needed more information.

Scanning the street one last time, I turned around, heading back towards Rebecca's house. Hopefully, Sam and Dean had learned something that would help me figure out what was going on.

When I knocked on the door, it was Sam who answered, immediately looking relieved to see me. "Thank God. Come on."

I followed him through the house to the kitchen, where Dean was standing. Curious, my eyes scanned my surroundings, finding them mildly interesting, but nothing odd jumped out at me. The home was nicely decorated, very light, very open.

"Rebecca's gone to get her keys. We're going over to see the crime scene," Dean explained.

I raised an eyebrow. "And how do you plan to do that?"

He nodded at his brother. "According to this genius, I'm a police detective in Bisbee, Arizona," he informed me, rolling his eyes. "Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends."

Sam stared him down. "Look, Zach and Becky need our help."

"I just don't think this is our kind of problem," his brother countered.

"Two places at once? We've looked into less," Sam reminded him pointedly.

That caught my attention. "Two places at once?"

Dean nodded, glad to ignore his brother for the moment. "Apparently, Zach was here with Becky and murdering his girlfriend at the same time."

I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, and I looked away from him to think, when my eye caught on a picture hanging on the wall. Stepping closer, I examined it— it was of Rebecca posing with a guy, someone with dark hair and a goatee.

Pointing at it, I looked at Sam. "Is that—"

"Zach," he finished for me, and my eyes widened as I realized what that meant.

I swallowed. "Where is he now?"

"We don't know... why? What is it?"

As I met his confused gaze, I found myself not quite wanting to tell him what I'd seen outside. After all, a lot of people probably had goatees, and I wasn't sure it was even Zach that I'd seen. But if it was... and two places at the same time? That was curious... but I had very little information to go off of, after all, and one of my biggest hunting flaws was jumping to conclusions too early. I just needed to wait a little while.

Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. "It's nothing."

Just then, Rebecca returned, giving me a confused glance. "Who's this?"

I stepped forward to introduce myself, but Sam beat me to it. "This is Annabeth, she's a friend of ours."

Her eyes narrowed for a split second, but then her face brightened as she looked at me. "Nice to meet you! I'm Rebecca, but you can call me Becky."

I shook her hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you, too, Becky."

She turned back to the brothers. "Shall we go, then?"