Howling

Good Mourning

Flashes went off in our direction as we entered the overcast cemetery; a sea of reporters on either side of the train of cars slowly advancing towards the grave. The silence in our car seemed to amplify their already shouted questions through the windows.

Surely they had to understand, deep down, that the reactions they wanted, whatever answers they craved for their two-bit gossip articles just weren't coming.

"Oh, can't they just leave us alone," Korey snapped, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

I took in the black-grey stained tears running down her face, contrasting with her smooth purple hair. Her eyes, filled with sadness and anger, were trained out the window. If I didn't know any better I would have thought she was trying to melt the crowd down to their very bones.

"Just one day," she muttered softly, "One day. They could show that much respect at least."

"I know," I responded, trying to sound soothing, "Unfortunately all we can do is ignore them."

"That's all we do. I'm tired of it."

Her head turned, exhausted eyes meeting mine; still so beautiful.

"I'm sorry, about the yelling just now," she apologized, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, turning her cheek grey.

"No, it's okay I get it. This has been a stressful few months."

The brakes squeaked as the car stopped beside the grave, a few heads in the sea of black-clad people turning in our direction.

"C'mon," I told her as I unbuckled my seatbelt, "Just a little while longer, then we'll be home."

The grass sunk a little beneath my heels as we made our way over to the gathering at the graves edge.

The parting was surprisingly short, but what it lacked in length it made up for double in misery.

It took everything in me to even look over at a crying Hilary. She tried to hid her sounds of anguish as not to be overheard by the pastor. It didn't stop the occasional sniff or sobs would fail to be stifled.

"Above all else," the pastor droned, sounding how the grey clouds looked overhead, "Seth was a husband, and a minister of the Lord above."

A pause, his wrinkled eyes looking over us all. I felt he expected something of us, the listeners, but left the mystery of what it could be wide open.

"The forefront of his mind," he continued, glancing down at the notes nestled in his bible, "Was serving the Lord, with all his heart, all his soul, all his mind, and all his strength. Let's leave here today, walking by Seth's example. In obedience, and in love to God."

Those words-that concept-had never stung before, but today they felt like needles being pushed into my heart one by one.

Especially when I glanced at the woman beside me.

We all watched solemnly as the dirt on the side of the grave, was now being pushed into the hole, slowly covering the casket, until all that remained was a rectangle of dirt.

People started dispersing, breaking off into smaller groups and talking.

I was one of the few that stayed behind, my eyes lingering on the mound of dirt that people had started laying flowers in front of.

I wished I had one to give.

My feet started turning away, if I went off my mind, I would have stayed for years. Movement caught my eye, leading me to lift my head and-oh my god.

"Kor," I whispered to her.

"Jen," she asked me, "Are you okay?"

I pointed to the two men dressed in nice suits, just close enough to our gathering to blend in but far enough away for people not to question their presence.

"Do we know those guys," I inquired. They looked really familiar.

She followed my direction, an eyebrow raising as a shadow of recognition crossed her face.

"I know we've seen them before, but," she trailed off.

I watched them, turning towards each other to discuss something. From the looks of it, an argument.

"Wait," Korey gasped, "The wreck, Dean and Sam!"

I mentally slapped myself. Of course, the men investigating after the night we crashed!

"Well, what about them, why are they here," she asked, looking up at me with an anxious smile.

I watched as they casually walked through the people, taking Korey's hand and gently tugging her along with me, "I guess we'll find out."

We tagged behind them, watching as they tracked down a quietly anguished John leaning against a tree. His arms uncrossed as he got ready to greet the men.

Her fingers laced through mine, her tenseness rolling off her body as we neared the three.

Right as we got there, they flashed their badges.

"We just want to ask you a couple questions," the taller one-Sam?-stated as he re-pocketed his badge.

"Questions about what," John asked. He sounded empty, hollow.

"Do you remember a certain blue, 2005 Subaru Impreza," Dean inquired.

"John," I asked, keeping Korey behind me, "What's going on?'

Sams eyes settled on me, darting to my shoulder before making eye contact. Worry crossed his face as he leaned towards Dean.

"She has a bite scar," he whispered, "Right shoulder, look."

Dean tilted his head, quiet for a few moments as he thought it over.

"Wolf bite, definitely" he responded.

Well. Fuck.