Crossroads - Supernatural Rewrite

The Benders

The McKay living room had a lived-in feel, framed pictures lined the mantle, a couple of scattered toys peeked out from beneath the couch.

Kat stood between the boys, watching Mrs. McKay and her son and they spoke. The boy, Evan, looked nervous, his fingers twisting the hem of his pajama pants.

"I know you're just doing your job," Mrs. McKay said, her voice clipped with exhaustion, "but the police have been here all week already. I don't see why we have to go through this again. The more he tells the story, the more he believes it's true."

Sam kept his voice calm. "Mrs. McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities,"

Dean followed up, flashing that easygoing smile. "But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so..."

Kat crouched in front of Evan, making sure to keep her voice gentle. "Don't worry about how it sounds, just tell us what you saw."

Evan hesitated, his small hands fidgeting. "I was up late, watching TV," he said quietly. "when I heard this weird noise."

Kat nodded. "What did it sound like?"

Evan swallowed. "It sounded like...a monster."

Kat straightened at that. He wasn't searching for the right words, making it up as he went. He seemed like he really believed it.

Mrs. McKay sighed, "Tell the officers what you were watching on TV."

Evan ducked his head, almost embarrassed. "Godzilla Vs. Mothra."

Dean's face immediately lit up. "That's my favorite Godzilla movie," he said, grinning. "So much better than the original, huh?"

Evan's eyes widened. "Totally."

Dean nodded toward Sam. "Yeah...he likes the remake."

Evan made a disgusted face. "Yuck."

Sam shot Dean an exasperated look, clearing his throat. "Evan," he said, gently bringing the boy's attention back. "Did you see what this thing was?"

Evan shook his head. "No. But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car and took him away. I heard the monster leaving, it made this really scary sound."

"What kind of sound?" Kat asked.

The boy hesitated, "This...whining growl."

Kat met Sam's eyes, then Dean's, the three of them already brainstorming different possibilities.

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A low hum of conversation filled the dimly lit bar, mingling with the clatter of pool balls and the occasional burst of laughter. Sam sat at a small table, a beer in one hand and the local newspaper open in front of him.

Across the table, near a dartboard riddled with holes, Kat lined up her shot. Dean stood beside her, arms crossed, watching her with growing frustration.

"You're hustling me," Dean accused, narrowing his eyes as Kat lazily threw another dart. It landed dead center.

Kat smiled, turning to him. "I don't hustle, I'm just better than you."

Dean scoffed, grabbing a dart of his own. He squinted, aimed, and let it fly—only for it to land a good inch off the bullseye.

Kat made a show of inspecting it, clicking her tongue. "That was cute," she teased.

Dean shook his head, murmuring, "Not fair. You're probably using those freak powers of yours to throw me off." He said, pointing an accusatory finger in her face.