My Guiding Light

Chapter 15

Season: 4

Episode(s): Yellow Fever

Setting(s): Rock Ridge, Colorado

***

"You're- Wait- What? How?" Sam asks as he turns in his seat. I shrug. "Same way you became a psychic I'm assuming except nobody burnt on the ceiling for it." I flinch at my own words and look up at Sam with an apologetic glance. That was way too harsh. I don't even know why I said it.

"Can we just focus on the case? We'll talk about this after the monster is dead. I promise, I won't avoid it this time." I say, still feeling the tenseness in the air from my previous comment. "Yeah." I hear Sam say as he shifts to look forward again. "Yeah, lets just finish the case."

I glance over at Dean, pleading for a look of 'it's okay, you're in a bad place I forgive you' but instead I get a 'you're a monster, arguably worse than Sam, I can't even look at you' glance

—

Dean made me stay in the car when going to the police station, claiming that seeing a weak and tired anorexic woman posing as FBI wouldn't look very convincing. I tended to agree but I didn't really like it. And that's why, now that we're pulling up at the neighbour's house, I'm not taking no for an answer. Even if neither brother can stand to look at me right now.

We walk into his what I assume is supposed to be his living room but appears to be more like a petting zoo for all things scaly. I can feel myself hyperventilating, as if I'm going to pass out again but I don't let myself. I just stand by the couch as to avoid interaction with my brothers as we continue the investigation.

"Tyler, Perry and Whitford. Like Aerosmith." The overly sized man with the scaly noodle around his neck comments, way too calmly. All I can hear though is the croaking of those damn frogs that are driving me half way to insanity. Though I'm already halfway there so maybe it's just to insanity.

"Yeah. Small world." Sam interrupts. "Um, so the last time you saw Frank..." my attention trails off when I feel something brush past my leg. Big and cold. I didn't even want to look at what it was because I knew I'd pass out if I did.

I heard something about witches and my mind luckily kicked back into gear for a moment, allowing me to focus on the case. "Well, wizard of Oz was on TV. He said that green bitch was totally out to get him." He said, caressing the snake on his shoulder. What's weird is I usually love snakes. I loved every form of life. Being a hunter, it's hard to really scare me.

"Is there anything else that scared him?" Sam pries further.

"Oh yeah, everything." Fat man replies honestly and I swear that snake is now judging me. It's looking at me funny.

"What was...." I try to speak, remaining as calm as possible. "What was Frank like?"

He seemed tense after that question. "I mean. He's dead, you know? I don't wanna hammer him... he got better." He says to which I raise an eyebrow

"In high school he was a dick." He explains.

"A dick?"

"A bully."

I look down at my foot and scream, jumping back at the sight of a tarantula. I shake my head. "I can't do this. I'm going to... call our boss." I say trying my best to act natural as I walk out of the current interrogation and back to the safety of the impala. I knew I'd be lectured later but I thought that it would be better to excuse myself rather than faint in front of the man so I made my choice and Dean -no matter how much he wants to try and scare me by acting like dad- is gonna have to deal with it.

—

Surprisingly, I didn't get lectured in fact, Dean seemed kind of jealous that he didn't come with me. Which is odd, but I let it go.

"Hey. Any luck at the county clerk's office?" I hear Sam say as he gets in. I'm currently sitting on my hands as I'm in an oddly fidgety mood and sitting on my hands seems to be the only way to currently stop me.

"I'm not sure I'd call it luck. Frank's wife, Jessie, was a manic-depressive. She went off her meds back in '88 and vanished. They found her two weeks later, three towns over. Strung up in her motel room, suicide." Dean says and I wince, causing both boys to look at me though I'm not looking at them. "Hate dealing with suicides." I comment. "Always so tragic. And the families..." I shudder. "I hate when I had to be the one to tell them their loved one couldn't make it."

"What has gotten into you?" Sam comments. "It's like you're not even you."

"What are you talking about, of course it's me." I say with a shake of my head. "Anyway, is there any chance Frank could have helped in the suicide?" I ask trying to stay focused on the case.

"Nope. Airtight alibi. How was Frank's pad?" Dean asks, driving surprisingly slow but I don't comment.

"No sulfer, hex bags or EMF." Sam comments.

"So no demons, witches or ghosts." I confirm, still avoiding eye contact with my brothers.

"Three down, ninety-seven to go." Dean jokes and Sam laughs, looking at the car dash and then Dean, looking more confused than what he was than when he was questioning if I was really his sister. "Dude, you're going twenty." He says and dean raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, So?"

"That's the speed limit."