Longhorn

Chapter 02 | False Accusations

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Y/N

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The door opens to show a woman Dean is most definitely gonna try to sleep with. She's got straight, blonde hair and light brown eyes.

She also has a vagina, so that aids him.

"Sam!" she gasps. "Oh my God!"

"Well, if it isn't little Becky."

The way he says her name makes your brow jump, but you don't say anything.

"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap." She smiles, wide and white, and she hugs Sam around the shoulders.

"I got your email," Sam says when Becky backs up a little bit.

She shakes her head, saying, "I didn't think you would come here."

Dean takes a step toward her, extending his hand with his award-winning womanizing smile. "Dean, older brother."

Becky doesn't let him see, but all women can tell when another woman is interested in a man. She shakes his hand, looking at him through her lashes. "Hi."

"Hi," he coos.

You click your tongue, not-so-subtly shoving him aside. "I'm Y/N. Sam told me about you and Zach on the way here. We're here to help and do whatever we can."

"Oh, Sam told me about you!" she gasps. "You're the one that convinced him to go through with Harvard!"

You wince - it's still a touchy subject between you and Dean. All those years ago, Sam came to you to vent, to ask your input on what his father said. You had told him what you so desperately wanted to hear all those years ago: "Do what makes you happy, Sam. Don't go based on what your father, or Dean, wants. Your life belongs to you, nobody else."

"Yeah," you cringe. "That's... me."

"Come in, come in!" She doesn't let go of your hand as she drags you in, Sam and Dean following.

"Nice place," Dean mutters, neck craning to view the home as he shuts the door behind him.

"It's my parents'," Becky says. She leads you to sit down in the living room, but the others remain standing. "I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off, and I'm staying until Zach's free."

Sam moves to stand at the arm of the couch you're sitting on. "Where are the folks?"

It is a nice ass house, let's be honest here. Some rich motherfuckers own this place.

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial."

There it is.

She starts walking to the kitchen, and you stand to follow. "Hey, do you guys want a beer?" she asks.

Dean immediately perks up, smiling ear to ear. "Hey -"

"No, thanks," both you and Sam interrupt.

"Tell us what happened," Sam says.

Rebecca sighs, her shoulders drooping. "Well, um, Zach came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing." Slow, quiet tears roll down her face, her crying only apparent by the slight trembles in her voice. "So, he called 911, and the police - they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zach could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police - they have a video. It's from the security tape across the street. And it shows Zach coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight."

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene," Sam starts. You can see the lies slipping into place already, like a shitty puzzle. "Zack's house."

"Why?" Becky frowns. "I mean, what could you do?"

"Well, me, not much. But Dean's a cop."

Dean laughs. You've seen this move before, his facade falling onto his face like a glove on a hand. "Detective, actually."

Cocky dickwad.

"Really? Where?"

"Bisbee, Arizona. But I'm off-duty right now."

Becky's head swivels to look at you. "And what do you do?"

"Oh," you hum. "I'm a journalist. But I'm not here for that. I had vacation time saved up for the road trip and, well, here we are."

She smiles. "You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just - I don't know."

"Bec, look." Sam steps closer, his hand on her arm in an effort of comfort. "I know Zach didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove he's innocent."

It's visible in her face when she finally relents. Her chin stops wobbling and she sniffles just once. "Okay. I'm gonna go get the keys."

She walks away and Dean scoffs, looking at Sam from the corner of his eyes. You're standing between them. "Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shot with your friends."

"Look, Zach and Becky need our help."

"I just don't think this is our kind of problem," Dean pushes, turning fully to face his brother.

"Two places at once, Dean?"

"We've looked into less," you chirp, laying a hand on Dean's bicep. "Come on, Dean, let's just get this over with. And if it isn't our kind of problem, we can call it a... vacation. I think."

Dean sighs, shoulders sloped. "Fine."

"Don't forget the arch, Dean."

"I know."

"Seriously."

"I know. Shut up."