The Hunter's Daughter (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

Chapter 11: The First Hunt

Two weeks. Two weeks of looking, of searching for what seems like impossible information... And nothing.

"Maybe we should go home," I suggest after reading through Mom's journal for about the fifth time in the past two weeks.

Dean looks up from his papers. "Home? What home?"

"My home, Dean. I doubt we'll find anything sitting here at Bobby's. Besides, I'm tired of sitting here at Bobby's. Can't we just get out of the house? Please?"

Dean gives me an exasperated look. "One, you haven't been sitting around. You've been practicing your hunting skills. Two, that's what I'm working on. Where did you live?"

"Hastings, Nebraska. You think we could still get into my house?"

Dean thinks for a moment. "Maybe. It's worth a try. Your mother didn't die that long ago. There's a chance that all her stuff might still be there. Before we head that way, though, I got a lead for a ghost case down in Valentine, Nebraska. So not too far from here."

I nod and run my hand through my blonde curls. "Cool. When do we leave?"

Dean jumps up, a smile on his face. I'm glad we finally have a hunt for him He's been rather antsy for the past couple weeks. Anytime someone mentioned the word "hunt," he would perk his head up like a puppy getting attention. It was amusing at first, but after awhile it got rather annoying.

"Sammy!" Dean calls out into the house. "I got us something!"

Sam walks into the kitchen. "What is it?"

"Ghost. Down in Nebraska. We're gonna take care of that really fast and then swing by Emma's old place. See if we can find anything about our pal Chester," Dean says, still grinning. "Let's get going. I want to leave as soon as possible, you two."

Sam and I exchange a look but don't hesitate any longer. In less than an hour, we are on the road again. It takes about a day to get to Valentine.

"I get the floor," I call out.

Dean gives me a scolding look. "I don't think so, young lady. Besides, we are getting started right now. No time for sleep."

I roll my eyes and set my duffel bag on the bed. "So, what do we know about this ghost?"

"Hey, Sammy. Get the suits of the trunk," Dean says. Turning to me, he says, "Not much. He's haunting some person's house. Died a long time ago and decided it didn't like this family because they had a daughter. Apparently, this dude was killed by his wife after attempting to kill her for having a girl."

"Wow," I say. "What do you want me to do?"

Dean thinks for a minute. "Can't have you sitting here alone. So you're going undercover with us."

I raise my eyebrows. "Seriously? Undercover as what?"

Sam brings in two suits. "We're going to be FBI agents," he says. "You... Well, we'll think of something."

I raise my eyebrows even higher. "FBI agents? Are you guys crazy? That is so illegal!"

Dean nods. "A lot of what we do is, cupcake. Now, get dressed into something nice."

I scowl at him but reach into my duffel bag. I pull out a long, white skirt and a black blouse. I go into the bathroom and change really fast. After that, I quickly do my makeup and enter back into the room.

 "This nice enough?" I ask.

Sam nods. "Should be, ghost whisperer."

My face falls. "You're joking, right?"

Sam smiles. "Your name is Cathy Lewis. You can talk to ghosts. And if you focus hard enough, you really should be able to get some information out of it. Now, just follow our lead."

***

"Ghost whisperer?" The woman sitting on the couch says, a scowl on her face. "You're joking right?"

I feel my face flush. "Of course not, ma'am."

"She's a professional," Dean, a.k.a. Agent Ross, says. "Please don't question her."

The woman's face goes bright red. "Oh, no. Of course not. My apologies Miss Lewis."

I give her a reassuring smile. Just then, a girl not too much younger walks in. Behind her, a boy that looks almost identical to her.

"Oh, man," the boy says, looking at me. "Who's the cutie?"

The girl nudges him in the ribs and I feel Dean tense beside me. "I think the real question is, who are the guys in suits?"

"Carly, Matthew. Stop, please," the woman says. "This is Agent Ross and Agent Zander. They're from the FBI. They heard about our haunting and brought with them, Cathy Lewis. She's a ghost whisperer."

Matthew laughs. "A ghost whisperer? Yeah. Right."

"You doubt me?" I blurt out. Dean gives me a look but doesn't say anything. I know what I'm doing is probably stupid and nothing will probably happen. Hell, I'll probably blow our cover. But I'm not going to be spat on by this douche.

"Then prove it," he says.

"Fine. I will."

"Uh, Cathy," Sam says. "You sure you want to do this in front of everyone else?"

I nod. "Yeah... I got this," I say. I hope.

"Ghost?" I call out. "Are you there?" I shiver when I feel a presence enter the room. I close my eyes as cold begins to creep up my arms. "I can feel you there."

This is so awkward. I open my eyes and see the others have their eyes wide open. "Can you hear me?"

"Winchester," it whispers, but it seems to echo throughout the room.

"Get out," I say.

"No."

"Leave. Now."

"NO!" A wind sweeps through the room causing the woman to scream.

Everyone is staring at me. Even Sam and Dean look slightly shocked.

"W-we'll just l-leave you t-to be," the woman says. "Kids. Let's go out for some pizza."

Matthew and Carly follow their mother out of the house, leaving us alone. "How the hell did you do that?" Dean asks me.

I shrug. "Maybe because I'm a daughter and my father is in the room? Also, I'm a Winchester. Which a pretty popular name last I checked. He's probably unhappy that we're here."

"Get out," someone says. I turn my head for the voice is directly in my ear. I come face to face with a ghost. A real, live ghost.

I can't really tell what he looks like, but he's tall and large. He's got a balding head and a scruffy beard. His eyes seem to glow.

"No," I say. "How about you get out you son of a bitch." With that, I hear the fire of a gun. I look over and see Sam holding up the shotgun.

"Let's go," Dean says. "We need to burn those bones. And fast. That's one pissed off ghost."

We go to leave, but the door doesn't budge. We were trapped. And there was a very unhappy ghost laughing somewhere in the distance.