Tall Tales

2

The younger Winchesters took their place at a table with two college students. Sam took a recording tape out, turned it on, and folded his arms, waiting for one of the students to begin.

"Yeah, we both had the professor for Ethics and Morality," the jock, Curtis, said before taking a sip of his beer.

Sam tapped a finger against the table. "Yeah? So why do you think he did it?" He asked, looking between the two.

The girl, Jen, shrugged. "Who knows? He was tenured, wife, and kids. His book is like a really big deal." She nodded at the thought, before leaning forward, a mysterious look on her face. "Then again, who's to say it was a suicide?"

Curtis rolled his eyes. "Jen, c'mon..." he said playfully. His body language and voice showed disbelief like Jen was about to give something out that wasn't truthful.

(Y/n) took a sip of her margarita, staring down at the glass for a moment. "Well, what else could it be?" She eyed Jen, a feeling in her gut that put out the idea of Jen knowing everything they needed to hear.

"Well, you know about Crawford Hall." Jen looked back and forth between the siblings as if this was one big secret that no one else could hear.

Sam scooted forward, resting his back against the chair once more. "No, we don't."

The jock waved a hand in the air, shaking his head. "It's a bunch of crap, it's a total urban legend." He was shooting his reply at Jen, who rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, well, Heather's mom went to school here, she knew the girl." Jen countered, making the siblings lean in forward to hear more.

Sam looked between the two with a small smile. "Wait, what girl?"

"Like, thirty years ago, this girl was having an affair with some professor." She sent a glare to Curtis, who was chuckling quietly. "He broke it off. She jumped out of the window and killed herself."

Vengeful ghost? "You know her name?" (Y/n) asked, swirling the straw around in her drink. It wasn't that this disinterested her, (Y/n) just wanted this all to be done.

Jen shook her head. "No, but they say she jumped from room 669." She emphasized on the number '9'. "Get it? You turn the '9' upside down..." she trailed off when the siblings nodded, saying that they understood. Curtis started to chuckle again, to which Jen glared once more at. "So now, she haunts the building and anyone who sees her... they don't live to tell the tale."

"Well," Curtis started, gaining everyone's attention. "If no one lives to tell the tale, then how does the tale get told?" (Y/n) snorted and held back her laughter, resulting in Sam kicking her ankle.

"Curtis, shut up!" Jen shot back, clearly annoyed at the jock for pushing back her story.

With that, Sam picked up the recorder and stopped it. "You know what? Uh, thanks a lot, guys." He and (Y/n) stood up, the youngest downing the rest of her drink before straightening her flannel. "Excuse us."

The one thing the two younger Winchesters hoped to not see was Dean drinking shot after shot at the bar. But, hoping never did the three of them any good, especially when it came to one of them drinking.

(Y/n) made a face. "Dean. What are you- what are you drinking?" She stared down at the three shot-glasses in front of her oldest brother, eyeing the purple substance.

The eldest Winchester burped, waving a hand in the air with a grin. "I don't know. I think they're called Purple Nurples." He laughed and shook his head, grinning at the next shot on the counter.

"Okay," Sam stepped forward, ready to spill all the information. "Well, listen, we think maybe we should go check out the professor's office."

Dean shook his head and turned around. "Oh, no, no, no. I think I can't right now," he turned back around to face his siblings, a drunk grin on his face. "'Cause I've got some feisty little wildcat on the hook." Sam leaned to the left to get a look while (Y/n) stood on her toes and placed her hands on Sam's shoulders to see. "I'm 'bout to, zzt, reel her in. I'll introduce you."

"De-" (Y/n) pressed her lips into a thin line as the woman turned around with a shot in one hand and a drunk smile on her face. Fantastic.

"Starla, this is my shuttle copilot, Major Tom, and my mission specialist, Jas." He turned back to his siblings. "Major Tom, Starla. Jas, Starla."

Starla put an arm around Dean's shoulder and grinned drunkenly, holding a shot-glass out. "Mm. Enchante." She giggled, putting an emphasis on Enchante.

The younger siblings looked at each other, then at the ground. "Hi," they greeted in sync, uninterested, and not caring. The case was way more important than whatever the hell Dean was doing.

Starla put a hand over her mouth and moved away, retching sounds leaving her mouth. (Y/n) and Sam frowned in disgust. "Sorry. Just trying to keep my liquor down." She apologized sheepishly, holding a hand over her mouth.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, good job." He turned back to his siblings. "Hey, good news. She's got a sister," he was speaking to Sam, though both men were aware that (Y/n) swung both ways. The youngest wasn't one for one-night stands.

Sam could only nod, cringing internally at what his brother was hinting at.