She Drove a Cadillac - A Supernatural Fanfiction

Eight - Finally

"Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again."
~ Richard Bach

"My name is Jane, and who might you two be?"

Sam hesitated, looking to his brother. Dean's eyes moved from her hand to the suppressed smirk on her lips as she waited. He was trying to read her, unsuccessfully, and the longer they stood in silence, time seemed to melt slowly around them. It just didn't add up. It felt too...easy. Almost an hour ago, she had come at them with a knife after they found blood in her bathroom sink, and now she wanted to be friends? What he did know was that letting these thoughts simmer any longer would make his head explode. 

"Jane," Dean finally said, not bothering to return her waiting handshake. He looked back at Sam, nodding for him to step forward too. Sam eyed her hand, fighting the urge to shake it out of common courtesy. "My name is Dean. This is my brother, Sam. We're hunters, and judging by previous events, I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you're one too."

Jane dropped her hand, her face serious. She looked at Dean, whose piercing green eyes remained fixed on her. She held his gaze for a breath, glanced briefly at Sam, then turned and picked up her gun. With her back to them, she returned to her room with a quick "Nice to meet you," before closing the door behind her and leaving the Winchesters in the hallway.

Dean sighed as he retrieved his own gun. Sam watched in silence as Dean opened their door and went straight to his his bed, flopping down with another frustrated sigh as he closed his eyes. 

"Alright, what the hell was that?" Sam asked. "I thought we were supposed to be talking to her and getting answers, not having staring contests in the hallway. I mean if that's all that we were planning to do, a little heads up would've been..."

"She's not it," Dean said. He sat up, brushing a hand over his face tiredly.

"What?" 

"She's not it, Sammy. She's got nothing to do with the case. Don't ask me how I know, I just..."

"Know?" 

"Sam..."

"Hey I get it," Sam raised his hands in defeat, setting his gun down on the table, "I mean, Dad always said you had sharp instincts...but I mean, you've gotta admit, all this stuff that's happened with her has still been pretty suspicious."

"Look, I get what you're saying, but she's a hunter..."

"At least she say's she's a hunter..." 

" Sam, what she's doing here, I can't tell ya, but it's not for what we think," Dean said firmly as he lay back down. "I've seen that look. She's running from something, and whatever it is, she doesn't need a couple of hunters to worry about on top of it all."

"But you aren't the least bit curious as to who she thought we were?" Sam asked in disbelief. The fact that his brother seemed so accepting of the whole situation was annoying. 

"Of course I'm..." Dean sat up again bit, running a hand through his hair, "of course I'm curious, and man, not gonna lie, that was probably one of the weirdest situations I've ever been in with a woman," he chuckled, "but it's none of our business." 

The Winchesters sat in silence for a few minutes, mulling over their encounter with Jane before trading looks of resolve. 

Not a moment later, they were out the door, scrambling down the hall to Room 38 and knocking on the door. After a couple minutes, the door opened, but it wasn't Jane who answered, it was the old woman who had checked them in, a cart packed with cleaning supplies behind her.

The woman scowled, "What do the two of you want?" Her voice raspy like a chain smoker's.

"Hi, there was a woman who was staying in this room, um... Jane?" Sam asked, as he glanced over her into the room.

"Eh, she left a couple minutes ago. Poor thing could barely get her coat on fast enough. Why? She your girlfriend or something?" the lady scoffed.

"Look lady, we just need to find her," Dean said.

"Oh, so she's your girlfriend huh? Well, too bad. Where she is ain't none of my business."

"Can we just have five minutes? We need to check her room before you clean it."

The woman peered up at them with narrowed eyes. "Fine. Five minutes," she said, grabbing her cart and rolling out into the hallway as the Winchesters filed in.

"Okay," Sam said, immediately beginning to rummage through the empty drawers for anything Jane could've left behind, "so what are we looking for exactly."

"Anything, I guess. Notes, receipts, any clues about where she's been, who she's met while being here," Dean said, looking through the bedside table. 

Sam squeezed into the tiny bathroom for the second time that night, looking through the drawers and combing through the trash bin, grimacing as he reached inside. He found two bloody wads of tissues, a broken comb, and a box with a receipt for a bakery.

"Hey Dean! I think I got something!"

"What?" Dean called as he looked under the bed.

"A phone number on a box from that bakery we stopped by earlier. It looks like Jane made a friend there too," Sam replied, poking his head out of the bathroom and holding up the receipt. He walked out and tossed Dean the box. "Maybe she stopped to say goodbye? We could check it out."

"It's worth a shot."