Healed {Dean Winchester 7}

Chapter 49

Of Grave Importance

We walked into the den of the house where a bar was on one wall with a piano in the corner and tables scattered about. "Well, that is every square inch of this place. No bodies, no pieces of bodies, no Annie. Whole lot of sizzle and no steak," Dean said.

"You are such a dork sometimes," I muttered.

"Maybe no news is good news," Sam said.

"Meaning?" Dean asked.

"Meaning maybe she's not here. Maybe she's still okay," Sam said.

"Yeah, and what does your gut say?" Dean asked.

"Nothing good," I mumbled. 

"Let's just see if there's anything else in her research." Sam sighed. 

_____

"Where did Annie get her intel, do we know?" Dean asked, raising the flask to his lips as we sat in car.

"Uh, Bodega Bay Heritage Society," Sam answered, holding up the small booklet of paper. 

"Seems like a tomorrow morning problem," I said as Dean started the car. 

______

Quentin was the man who worked at the Heritage Society, giving us a tour. "The house dates back to the mid-19th century," he explained as we looked at an old photo of the house. "Miles Van Ness made his fortune in the gold rush, eventually settling his family in Bodega Bay."

"Anything unusual ever happen in the house?" Sam asked.

"Over a quarter of a century, things are going to happen in a house," Quentin stated. "Some locals swear it's haunted. Every village has its idiots."

"We only want the real scoop," Dean said, thumb brushing back and forth as it rested on my waist. 

"Whitman Van Ness. Son and heir," Quentin began. "Handsome, charming. Dogged by tragedy all his life. He lost the family fortune, then the house. It became a bordello. He lived in isolation until his death at age forty."

"And who's the bruiser there?" Dean pointed to a photo of the man standing next to Whitman. 

"Dexter O'Connell. A convict," Quentin told him. "An extremely violent man. Mr. Van Ness was socially progressive and took pity on him. He worked as a groundskeeper. Dexter was convicted of murdering Whitman's fiancée on the eve of their wedding. Another calamitous event in the poor man's wife."

"Thank you," I told him. 

"The house is popular this week," he continued before we could walk away.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked. 

"A lady came by the other day, asking all sorts of questions," Quentin stated. 

"Uh, 30s, red hair, good-looking?" Dean asked, prompting me to jab my elbow into his side.

"I gave her the same advice I'll give to you. Stay away from the place," Quentin said. "It's extremely unsafe."

_____

"So besides Whitman's fiancée, Dexter was also convicted of killing hookers at the brothel," Sam stated, staring down at the papers in hand.

"He escaped before they could hang him, then went back to Van Ness's place," I added as I sat on the bed. Eli sat next to me, coloring book before him. "And then they found him shot to death there."

"Why would he escape, and then go right back to the house where he got arrested?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean called out from the shower. "Add that to a list of things I don't know." The door to the bathroom was open so he could hear over the sound of the shower.

"So what's our next move?" Sam asked.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't know," I said.

"Good guess," Millie told me.

"Baby?" Dean called out.

"What?" I yelled back.

"Can you bring me a towel?"

I stood from the bed. "I thought I did." I grabbed a towel from the stack on the dresser. I also grabbed a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants for him. "If this is another one of your dumb tricks, Dean, I swear..."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Dean said.

I pulled the shower curtain back a little as he cut off the water. "Here." 

"Aren't you just a sweetheart?" he teased, hand on the back of my neck as he pulled me in for a kiss.

I hummed into the kiss, bringing a hand up to brush my fingers over his jaw that was dusted in a five o'clock shadow. "Calm down, Casanova." I patted his chest as he wrapped the towel around his lower half and stepped out. 

Dean pulled the shirt over his head before brushing a hand through his damp hair. "You write that?" He asked, making me turn around to face the mirror.

Annie trapped in house, was written in the fog on the mirror.

"No," I said.

"It was Bobby," Rory said as she stopped in the doorway, her kitten in her arms. "He's been with us."

"Okay, you little creep, thanks." Dean brushed his hand over her head.  "Sam? You wrote this?"

"Uh, no. I didn't," Sam stated as he joined us at the doorway.

"Alright, go play, Rory," I said.

"Well, then who's there?" Dean asked. "I said who's there?" he demanded, voice firmer.

I swallowed as the sink faucet turned, hot water spilling into the bowl. Fog rose, covering the mirror. Then, slowly, the name Bobby was written.

"B-Bobby?" Dean asked. "Bobby? This whole time we've been trying to talk ourselves out of it, he's been...What's he doing here? And why can Rory see him?"

"He's the imaginary friend," I realized. 

Sam grabbed the flask from Dean's pile of dirty clothes. "Dude. Or maybe it's Evie's hat."

"We gotta get back to that house," I stated. "After you put pants on, of course." I patted Dean's arm.

A/N: Hi! Sorry for the short chapter. Hope you enjoyed!