Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Twenty Nine

"We were just talking. Then Lori's dad came out. And then he appeared."

The sheriff interviewing us raised an eyebrow. "A big man? Carrying a weapon, some kind of hook?"

Sam nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Ever seen him before?"

He shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets. "No, sir."

The cop turned to me. "You're the one who shot him?"

My faux-scared college girl face was back once again. "W-Well, I don't know if I shot him or just s-scared him off, but—"

"Where'd you get the gun?"

I swallowed, wringing my hands. "My d-dad gave it to me. Wouldn't let me go to college without it, actually. Told me it was to defend myself against any drunk guys who might not have the best intentions. I told him I'd be fine, and I d-didn't need it, but he insisted—"

The sheriff held up a hand, cutting me off. "You're a real good shot."

I nodded quickly. "Dad wouldn't give me a gun without teaching me how to use it."

Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. "Hon, it seems every time I turn around, I'm seeing you. If I were you, I'd find some friends with more common sense. And you," he continued, turning to Sam. "I suggest you try to stay out of trouble."

We both agreed immediately.

"No, it's alright, I'm with them. He's my brother," a voice said from down the hallway, and I looked up to see Dean. "Hey! Sam! Annabeth!"

The cop talking to us shook his head, waving at the cops. "Let him through."

They do, and he heads towards us. "You guys okay?"

His brother nodded. "Yeah, we're fine."

"What the hell happened?"

"Hook Man," Sam explained simply.

Dean's eyes widened. "You saw him?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but his brother beat me to it. "Damn right. Why didn't you torch the bones?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking confused. "I did. You sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?"

"It sure as hell looked like him," Sam said, angrier than I'd ever seen him— which wasn't saying much, because I'd never really seen him angry at all, but it was still pretty unnerving.

Dean raised his hands in mock surrender. "Woah, alright, I get it. Why was he even there?"

"Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman," he explained, still annoyed as hell. "She's upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished."

His brother nodded slowly. "Okay. But I burned those bones, I buried them in salt, why didn't that stop him?"

Scoffing, Sam looked around, like he couldn't understand the sheer stupidity. "You must have missed something."

Dean was getting upset, too. "No. I burned everything in that coffin."

"Did you get the hook?" I added quietly, trying to defuse without accidentally escalating. Walking on eggshells, basically.

He gave me a blank look. "The hook?"

I shrugged, glancing at Sam, just to make sure I wasn't angering him. "Well, it was the murder weapon, and, in a way, it— it was part of him."

"So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power," he realized, frustration disappearing.

I nodded. "So, if we find the hook...."

"We stop the Hook Man."

The moment the words were out of Dean's mouth, Sam pushed past him, walking down the hallway. Giving me a look, his brother followed, with me close behind.

"Any idea why he's so upset?"

I worried at my lip. "He... he kissed Lori."

He tilted his head, looking at Sam. "Damn. Good for him."

Pushing my hair behind my ears, I shook my head. "Not really. He pulled away, and then when I brought it up afterwards as a joke, well...." I gestured to his attitude, sheepish over having screwed things up so badly.

Glancing at me, Dean rolled his eyes. "Oh, for fuck's sake," he muttered, picking up his pace to catch up with his brother. Grasping him by his shoulder, he pulled him back to look him in the eyes. "Why the hell are you acting like someone just killed your cat? Huh?"

Sam glared at his brother. "Look, this thing is going to keep hurting people unless we stop it. So, let's stop it, shall we?"

Dean set his jaw, frustrated, but he held himself in check for the time being. "Alright, fine. Where's the hook?"

I stepped forward, trying my damnedest to not incur the wrath of either of them. "All of Jacob Karns' personal belongings were donated to St. Barnabas Church — Lori's church — upon his execution."

"Including the hook?" Sam asked, still refusing to meet my gaze.

Swallowing, I tried to think. "I— I don't— I mean, if it wasn't buried with him, then it probably—"

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. "You don't know. Fine. Let's head back to the library, then."

The drive over to the library was almost physically painful, the tensions were so high. I still didn't really understand what had Sam so upset, and I didn't want to make things worse by asking, so I just sat there silently. Dean didn't seem to be in the best mood himself, so he didn't strike up any conversation either.

Things weren't much better when we got to the library and started looking, either. Dean went to get the church records, and though I would've liked to help look through them, Sam pretty much took that over completely, and I wasn't going to disrupt the fragile peace by saying anything about it.

Finally, he pointed to a passage. "Here. St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged." Closing the book, he sighed. "They melted it down. Made it into something else."

I gave Dean a look. "Which means it could be anything."

"Anything silver," he amended.

I nodded. "Right. So, that means—"