Fallen Idols
Sam, Dean and I sat at the table in our motel room, each scrolling through articles on our computers, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Evie was watching Scooby-Doo, hugging her Care-Bear stuffed animal to her chest.
Dean was rewatching the video from the first kill when he found something. "Whoa." He mumbled.
"What?" Sam asked.
"It better be case related, buddy." I warned.
Dean scoffed, flipping the computer around so Sam and I could see the screen. It was paused at a moment where a person seemed to be reflected in the metal of the tire rim. "It's a freeze-frame from Jim Grossman's video. Am I crazy or does that look like James Dean?"
"I mean, kinda." I shrugged.
"It looks like James Dean." Sam agreed.
"So we got Abraham Lincoln and James Dean? Famous ghosts?" Dean asked.
"Maybe." Sam shrugged.
"Well, that's just silly." Dean stated. He glanced at me. "And you know what? I'm willing to bet that you're looking up baby names again, so at least I'm doing my job."
"I am not." I quickly closed the tab with baby names.
"No, actually, there's a ton of lore on famous ghosts." Sam explained. "More than the, you know, not famous kinds."
"Not the lore." Millie called out from across the room.
"I'm actually surprised we haven't run into one before." Sam shrugged.
"Now we got two?" Dean asked. "Two extremely pissed off ghosts?"
"Well, I mean, there's no rule against only one ghost being allowed to haunt a town." I stated.
"Who are apparently ganking their fans." Sam said.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Professor Hill was a Civil War nut. He dug Lincoln."
"And Cal must've been a James Dean freak. He spent 17 years of his life tracking down the guy's car." Dean stated. "So you're telling me we've got two super famous, super pissed off ghosts killing their super fans? Hell, Si, better watch out before Kurt Russel comes and takes you out."
"Hmm, I don't think I'd mind that death." I shrugged my shoulders.
"That's much it looks like." Sam said.
"That is muchos loco." Dean stated.
"Huh?" I asked.
Sam scoffed. "'Muy' not 'muchos.'"
"The big question is what the hell are they doing here?" Dean continued.
"Yeah. I mean, ghosts usually haunted the places they lived. I mean, I get Abraham Lincoln at the White House.
"And James Dean at a racetrack, but what the hell are they doing in Canton?"
____
"I'm sticking with it, Dean, you can't fight me on it." I turned in my chair, looking at him as he leaned against the counter, beer in hand.
"Come on, listen, okay, I got another one. What about Lennon? That's cute." He suggested.
"I'm naming her Salem...or Dakota. One of the two." I insisted.
"Then I'm naming my son Dean Junior."
"What about Hendrix? Ooh, or Ozzy. That's adorable." I suggested.
YOU ARE READING
Cursed {Dean Winchester 5}
Fanfiction"If I die--" I began, voice quiet, barely above a whisper. "Don't say that." Dean cut me off, resting his head against mine. "You won't. I won't let you. You aren't dying. Not on my watch." A sigh slipped past my lips as I shut my eyes. "Show me you...
