The Endless Life

Part 4

Cas sat on the edge of your bed, nibbling the leftover fudge, evidently annoyed by the brothers' intrusion. The Winchesters had gathered at the table where you were showing them your discoveries. "One thing Sue and Janice had in common? They were both sleeping with the same guy," you tapped the screen. "Austen Bennett, in a relationship with Sue McAven," you had worked everything out in your head and everything you were saying made perfect sense to you, but because you left out many of the crucial details, Sam and Dean just stared at you still not quite sure where you were going with this. "So?" Dean grew impatient. "Oh right I forgot a few things," you went on Austen's page and clicked on his profile picture. "Memorise," you instructed before heading over to Janice's page. "August 20th, Janice took a photo captioned her best night ever," you zoomed into the picture in question. "If we look closely, here in the mirror we can see the reflection of her lover," you leaned back in your chair as the brothers peered at the laptop. "Austen," they both said in unison. "Ok but they didn't kill each other, so who did? " Dean commented. "I'm getting there! I checked local news reports, bloody deaths, anything interesting. Turns out a few months ago Austen's old girlfriend threw herself off a cliff, and if you ask me he got over it pretty quick since he started dating again three weeks later," satisfied with your findings you stretched your arms in front of you. "That's amazing (y/n), I can't believe how quickly you got all this done," Sam squeezed your shoulder. "So what? We pay a Austen a visit?" asked Dean, foreseeing what the answer would be he grabbed his coat. "Cassie?" you looked back just before you were about to leave. Cas lifted his head. "Are you coming?" you asked. Cas shook his head, "I think it best if I stay here," you waved him goodbye before following the boys to the car. "Oooooh Cassie!" Dean mocked you. "Shut up I always call him Cassie," you snapped, seating yourself in the back of the Impala

The drive to Austen Bennett's house was plain. The roads were empty and you only had to stop at the occasional crossing in school districts. He lived about 20 minutes away from the hotel and those minutes were spent fondling your suit and staring out the window. The neighbourhood, sweet and simple, reminded you so much of your own home town. Not daring to trample those memories you distracted yourself by positioning yourself behind Sam and braiding his hair.

As the Impala pulled up into the gravel paved driveway of Austen's house, Sam whipped his head around, freeing his hair from their pretty incarceration. You patted yourself down searching for your fake badge. "Guys! I forgot my badge," you hissed, positive it got left behind. "Well then stay in the car," Dean remarked. "I'm not staying, I already have all my questions planned out!" you whined getting out of the car. "Well then improvise," he shot back at you. You sighed and ran to catch up to them. Dean knocked on the door of the bungalow, his exaggerated and self-proclaimed authority ringing in each pound was answered with the sluggish footsteps of the resident. The door slipped open to reveal a young man. He was enticing, not your type but his aura emanated malevolence. His hair, swept to the side and lathered in gel, displayed red strands intermixed with pure black. He was shirtless and the moment the door was set ajar everyone's eyes fell on the upper left part of his chest, where the anti-possession mark was tattooed into his pale skin. Dean's hand flew to his gun, "what is that?" interrogated Sam, traces of anger hiding in his tone and his own hand hovering over his gun. "It's from a book series, Supernatural, what's it to you?" the man spoke in an arrogant, coarse voice. The boys relaxed slightly but their annoyance was clear. "Nothing. Are you Austen Bennett?" Dean asked. "Who's asking?" the brat standing before you was starting to agitate you, but you held back so as to not draw any attention to yourself with the hope of not having to have to show your badge. The boys held up their badges. "FBI," they announced in alliance and told their fake names. The man's eyes wondered and he motioned his head to you. "Where's your badge cutie?" he asked conceitedly. The boys looked back at you. "I don't need one. I'm a private investigator hired by the FBI because these two are stupidly stumped on this case," and as the insult rolled off your tongue you felt hot glares burning through your flesh. It felt nice. "Makes sense," he said looking them up and down. "Yeah I'm Austen. And I'm guessing this is about Sue". "And Janice. We'd like to come in," you said pushing yourself through the door and looking around the house. "How'd you know about Janice?" Austen tailed after you. You sat on his black velvet sofa. "Private investigator remember? Sit down kid, we want to talk," you patted the space next to you. He followed your instructions and the Winchesters quietly followed, exchanging glances between themselves. "Oh we're also here about your third girlfriend, Alexis, so let's start there," you smiled sweetly, but he picked up on your threatening tone and shifted uncomfortably. "There's nothing to talk about, it was tragic.". "We believe there is something worth talking about," Sam added. "Alexis wasn't suffering from depression, she was quite happy if I recall," you pressed further,"and jumping back into dating so quickly after such a...tragic, as you put it, event is slightly suspicious I think," you raised your eyebrows at Dean and Sam who nodded at their cue. "What are you saying?" Austen spoke defensively but fear lurked in his words. "What are you hearing, Mr Bennett?" your interrogation was flowing right down the path you layed out for it. "Look it was totally out of the blue. I swe-", "talk!" you yelled in the middle of his justification."She- she jumped because of me. I told her I was depressed and I wanted to end it," his cocky voice wavering into a sensitive, boy's tone, "but she wouldn't let me go alone and we planned to do it together. But then...um, I met Sue. She was an angel, a sign of hope, you know? But I couldn't tell Sue about Alexis and vise versa. I'd be left all alone. So when the night came, she held my hand and I.... I let her go as soon she jumped. And I walked away," he averted his eyes from your gaze as tears rolled down his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "So you cheated on Sue with Janice to atone for your sins? I've seen a lot of people force tears to get what they want, like sympathy, and you demonstrated it perfectly, you utter dick," you yelled at him, enveloped in your own boiling anger, "we'll be taking our leave". You got up and made your way to the door, Dean and Sam in close pursuit.

Once in the car, the boys erupted with questions. Dean turned to face you in the back, his arm flung over his seat, "what the hell was that! How'd you make him spill everything (y/n), you were on fire!". You breathed heavily, "I don't know. What a jerk". "You should be a private investigator more often," Sam complimented, "So what now we burn Alexis' bones?". "I don't know. That idiot pretty much deserves what's coming," you huffed. "That's not our decision. We'll tell the authorities what Prince Charming did and they'll make the call," Dean comforted you, pulling away up from the house and driving away. "She's burried in the cemetery," you informed, still raging but under control. "Right," Dean said, as Sam searched up the location in his phone. The Impala sped away to its destination.

Dusk was falling as you walked up to Alexis' grave, which seemed to be the case everytime there was a body to dig up. As the boys laboured with the spades, you sat on Dean's jacket and twirled the pendant Cas gave you gratefully. Once they reached the freshly burried casket, they removed the lid gingerly and the heavy pungent scent of death surrounded the air. You looked away as Dean moaned at the sight of her smashed body. They covered the body in gasoline and generously seasoned it with salt before setting it alight. "You deserved so much better," you whispered as the fire crackled and danced, replacing death with the essense of smouldering flesh. Within the hour the grave was replaced and you took care to bring it to its previous state, before returning to the Impala for the last drive of the late night.