The Woman in White

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural they belong to Eric Kripke, but I do own the OC, Elsie Warner, and my co-author, LadyHimawari91 owns Sonia Desjardins and her family. This story includes Seasons 1-3.

[Preface]

Hillsboro Kansas, 1986

I had always gone to sit in the park when I was a little girl; from an early age I was independent, it was a trait in our family, particularly the women. A trait that attracted friends, lovers, and enemies alike – independence and free will such as that brought confidence to us, and it was as my dad had always told me, 'Confidence brings victory.'

And in our line of "work," victory is vital, our very lifeblood.

It was the same quality that got me through my youth, and adolescence and brought me into the arms of my first husband.

Despite my confident and independent streak, I was still young and longed to look at the world with hopeful eyes, praying it would change for the better.

That sort of belief in hope is what led to the birth of my son.

My son…I still have a hard time believing it, much less saying it, after he's born. He's such a quiet baby, and hardly cries at all.

There is no doubt in my mind that he is special, my husband seems to believe so too.

But then there's my daughter – with her I really can tell she's special in so many ways. Both my children are, even when they've outgrown my embraces and are no longer in my arms.

And just like my own story had begun, there's had begun with a simple start which had never been anything but that…

[First Person POV]

Jericho, California 19 years later…

Mad, wasn't often a word to describe me, until I had gotten a bizarre voicemail from my brother, Garrick, which luckily to EVP left me sufficiently worried because of another hidden message beneath his voice.

And now I was currently racing down the Centennial highway, breaking about a million traffic violations.

I was half glad it wasn't dark, though that didn't change the fact that I was pissed at my brother for going off on a hunt without me, and worrying the crap out of their mother.

Finally I had made it to the bridge, and got out of my car, heading over the police officers.

From what I could see it was some sort of automobile accident, but in this life I knew better. I approached the officers, deputy and sheriff, "Hi, I'm U.S Marshal Bridget Holmes," I held up her badge (which had been a fake persona, though the badge wasn't entirely).

"Can you t-," I was abruptly cut off by a young masculine gravel baritone voice, "That's funny so are we here," he declared.

I turned to look at him with hard eyes – if this a-hole screwed this up for me there would be hell to pay.

Whirling around, I saw two guys with dark sandy short blond hair, and hazel green eyes; he looked like he could be considered handsome, in the college jock sort of way, though there was something more to him, it was sort of roguish.

The guy standing behind him had dark shaggy hair and dark brown hazel eyes, and was taller than him, and he really looked out of place here.

"You fella's had another one like this just last month didn't you," the blond guy walked around the vehicle in a confident strut, which made me narrow my eyes at him. It was true they had, which made me question and wonder just who these guys were.

The dark skinned male turned and observed the two newcomers, and just for a splinter of a second I was grateful that not all the attention was on me. "And who are you?" He asked approaching them with interest.

Didn't change that I was a bit tweaked by this, and the fact that I was just completely brushed off by them. The blond one lifted up his badge, "Federal Marshals," he answered nonchalantly.

I felt my temper flare, "Well, sir, you can relax, I got this covered," I say coolly.

This brought his attention to me, and he looked me up and down, "That's alright rookie, we got this," he gave me a crooked boyish grin.

The guy behind him suddenly looked a little nervous, that it warranted my attention, "You alright there big boy?"

His partner turned and looked at him, his grin dropping slightly, which I felt smug about.

The deputy finally spoke up, "You two…no, actually all 3 of you are little young for Marshals aren't you?" He asked now standing in front of all three of us.

The blond one turned back to him and gave a crooked easy going grin and chuckled, "Thanks that's awfully kind of you."

"And like he said I'm just a rookie, so I just started," I smirked at the officer innocently.

The blond guy was about to say something more but I wasn't about to be beat out, "You did have another one like this before didn't you? This wasn't the first time this happened," I stated walking up to the car.

College-guy followed my lead, and followed after me, "Yeah this would be like the what? Fourth or fifth? There was another one before this wasn't there?" The officer nodded, "Yeah that's right. About a mile up the road, there've been others before then," he said, now looking at the three of us weirdly; he was probably wondering why there were three U.S Federal Marshals here.

The tall quiet guy, who was college jock-boy's partner spoke up, "So then this victim, you knew him?"

"Town like this? Everybody knows everybody," the officer said with a confirmed nod.

"Any connections between the victims besides that they're all men," college-jock asked circling the car, much to my annoyance.

"No. Not so far as we can tell," the officer answered. I picked up from there, "What about the people that knew them? Any past history of violence or anything of the alarming nature or even a grudge, personal vendetta," I asked.

The officer sighed, "We're looking into that, like we've looked into it in the past," he answered.

Tall-guy walked up the car, and behind me, giving me a look, "So what's the theory," he asked walking up to the car.

The officer scoffed, "Honestly? We don't know, but hers sounds like a lead. Serial murder, kidnapping ring," he pointed to me, and I smiled smugly, especially when the college jock turned to look at me, and he didn't look too happy, "Well that is exactly the kind of crap police work I can expect out of you guys," he joked with a sour smile.

I heard a hard shuffle and hit – looks like college jock just kicked by tall-guy, and I couldn't stop the snicker escaping my lips. "Thank you for your time," tall-guy said, and at that moment I made my past them and hurried over to my car.

"Hey!" I heard a shout behind me, and grinned to myself – those two were catching up.

Turning to look over my shoulder, I saw them approaching me, and tall-guy looked like he was fuming, jock-guy looked mildly ticked, with the way his lips had a pucker to them it looked more like he was pouting.

"What's up Rocky and Bullwinkle?" I grin as they come up to me.

"Enough games, princess, who are you really? And why are you really here?" Rocky asked me.

I pout slightly, "And what makes you think I'm not an actual U.S Federal Marshal?" I asked him cutely and innocently.

Rocky's lips puckered in a frown and that was the one thing I found myself staring at the most, "That," he motioned to my face, "The whole cute thing you got going on," he pointed out. That made me smirk in response, "So you're saying I'm cute?"

Rocky's mouth opened then closed at that, and Bullwinkle ducked his head down and fought back a little smile, and a snort.

"See? It's that kind of attitude that makes me wonder if you're really a U.S Marshal," Rocky points out cockily.

I arch a fading blond brow, "Are you?" Rocky paused and opened his mouth then closed it abruptly, and frowned slightly at me. I smile to myself and turn back around to get back into my car.

"That's a sweet ride ya' got there," Rocky pointed out from behind me, "What is that, a GTO Pontiac," he asks and I pause, and turn to look at him again, "Looks like the 1967 model," he observes circling my car.

Feeling impressed I glance at him, "You know your cars," I point out appraisingly.

He smiles at me crookedly, "Thanks," and I glance at the midnight dark navy black car, "Is that yours?" I ask.

He nodded, "Yeah, that's a-," I cut him off, "Chevy Impala," I state, as I walk over to his car, "Looks like the 1967 model," I smile a little, then stop when I'm standing behind it, "With a Kansas license plate…You're from Kansas?"

I glance up at them curiously and almost expectantly; Rocky and Bullwinkle exchange a look and look at me too, "Yeah," he answered.

"Where from," I ask, and let my Kansas drawl come out a bit – both my brother and I had a slight drawl and twang when it came to talking, and so did our mom.

Rocky's face changes slightly and now he looks hooked on me, "Lawrence," he answers curtly.

I smile faintly, "My mom grew up there and would sometimes take us back there, so I know where that is," I say as I walk back to my car.

Rocky snorts slightly, "Right and your mom is who exactly?"

"Valerie Desjardins," I reply.

Rocky's face changes and I see recognition flit across his face – he knew exactly who my mom was, and that also told me another thing. That these guys were hunters and hunters had a network and they all knew one another.

"Valerie Desjardins? You mean Val?" Rocky asked his brows drawing together creating a crease in his forehead.

I nodded, "Yeah."

His partner looks between us, "Okay, I'll bite. You know these guys Dean?"

Rocky, whose name, I now knew was, Dean nodded, "They were mentioned in Dad's journal, so is there contact and information," he said, "They're hunters," he explained.

Dean stared at me, "And you are?" He pointed to me expectantly. I purse my lips together thinly; after all that posturing and bickering, that would mean I'd be proving him right that I wasn't really a Marshal.

"Sonia Desjardins," I answer grudgingly.

It's Dean's turn to look smug now, "Thought so. Now my next question is this, what is another hunter, doing all the way here in rural California on the same gig we're working on?"

I frown at him, "Maybe I'm doing the same thing you are," I point out obviously. "Bull," Dean quips a little too quickly and impatiently.

Glaring at him in offense, "Alright fine you butthead. I am here for a reason okay?" I snap.

Dean raised both brows in mild surprise, "Did you just call me a butthead?" His companion gave an amused laugh and smile at that, "We're both here, we all heard her."

Dean gave him an offended look, "Shut up Sammy."

I would have giggled but stopped when I heard the name, "Wait. Dean," I pointed to him, "And Sam. Is your last name Winchester?" I asked in surprise.

They both lock eyes with me, and Dean answers, "Yeah, you know about us then huh?"

I shrugged, "Just your dad, and from what my mom told me about you guys. She told me a lot about your dad...and you mom," I added quietly.

Dean stares at me in focus, "You know about that then huh?"

I shake my head, "Not all of it, no."

Sam spoke up, "You still haven't answered the question. Why are you really here?"

I sigh and walk to my front door, "I'm here not just for a gig. I'm here…to look for my brother, Rick," I explain, "I got a message from him, which thanks to a friend he traced it here too, and then there was the EVP that picked up the voice a-," I was cut off.

"EVP? You heard the voice too then huh?" Dean asked me, and I stare at him then nodded quietly, "Yeah."

Dean smiled then clapped his hands together and rubbed his palms together, "Well, then I don't see why we can't work together. You know two or more heads are better than one," he smirks at me with open provocation.

Sam glances at him and rolls his eyes, "Right, that." He fights back a smile. Looks like Sam and I are on the same page, its anything but teamwork here.

That doesn't stop me from thinking this over, and sigh – logically what they does make sense. "And say that I agree to work with you guys…which I haven't yet, what would I get out of it," I asked cautiously, "You'll help me find my brother?" I ask.

Sam and Dean look at each other but Dean nods, "We can try, cause who knows for all we know both your brother and our dad might be here and on the same trail."

I inhale then exhale quietly through my nose, "Well fine, what other odds are there. And other choices," I mutter.

"Hey maybe you'll learn to like us," Dean calls after me jokingly, and I glance over my shoulder with a teasing smile, "Time'll tell, hon'. But onto business, where should we start?" I ask.

Sam speaks up, "I think the girlfriend is a good place."

I nod and climb into my car, "I'll follow you guys," I holler to them and put the key in the ignition. Dean goes off to his car, "You got it, baby-face."

I huffed and watched them climb in, and see Sam making some kind of remark to Dean, which makes Dean smirk crookedly and Sam just shakes his head. They start up their car and drive and I follow after them into town.

The ride there doesn't take long, especially since I passed the time listening to some music on the way, but we arrive into town, and I park behind them and get out.

The sheriff did mention that his daughter was putting up posters around town.

Dean and Sam wait up for me, and I go off to follow them, "Bet you that's her," Dean points to a gothic punkish looking girl putting up flyers around some of the establishments.

We approached her, and Dean took the lead, "You must be Amy?"

She was a young brunette who looked like she was my height maybe a bit shorter, and with a made up face, "Yeah," she answered softly.

Dean continued, "Yeah Troy told us all about you. We're his uncles, and she's his cousin," he pointed to me, "I'm Dean, this is Sam and that's Sonia," he explained to her.

I gave him a look for calling me a cousin – if I wasn't any smarter I assumed that he just lumped me in the category of being a kid.

She turned and started to walk away, "He never mentioned you to me," she said coolly, and she briefly focused on me, and looked me over. I never knew why but for some odd reason the same gender always seemed to either have a problem with me, or if they were nice, had been so in their own way.

Dean sighed, "Yeah that's Troy I guess," he said as he followed along after her, with Sam and I trailing after him, "We're not around much, we're up in Modesto."

Sam cut him off at the end of that, "So we're looking for him too, and we're kind of asking around," he went and stepped around and in front of her.

Suddenly another dark clothes-dressed girl came up to her and checked on her. Sam took the initiative, "You mind if we ask you a couple questions?"

This conversation took us to a diner, where Amy proceeded to tell us her story, "I was on the phone with Troy. He said he would call me right back," she explained looking really broken by this, "And uh, he never did."

Amy and her friend sat across from us, I sat between Sam and Dean as we listened to this recollection.

I think I was zoning out during this conversation, once Sam had started remarking on what a nice necklace Amy wore. I never was good with this detective stuff mostly cause I could get impatient sometimes – it was mostly Rick's place of expertise.

"Okay, thank you unsolved mysteries," Dean grunted out, "Anyways here's the deal ladies. The way Troy disappeared," he mentioned, "Something's not right," he stated, "So if you've heard anything…," Dean's voice trailed off, and that was when I noticed the girls' brief exchange.

Even Dean noticed it, "What is it?"

Amy's friend shrugged, "Well…it's just…I mean with all these guys going missing….people talk..," she admitted uncertainly.

"What do you mean," I asked softly. Sam chimed right in, "What do they talk about?"

Her friend shifted in her seat slightly before speaking, "It's kind of this local legend," she started out, "This one girl, she got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago," she explained, and I remembered that as the bridge that we were all just at. Dean looked at Sam at that mention, and I nodded slowly as I was starting to understand. "Well, supposedly, she's still out there," she went on quietly, looking at all 3 of us, "She hitchhikes and whoever picks her up….well, they disappear forever," she ended the legend.

At least now we had a lead, and of course, I was starting to like Sam more, since he suggested going to do research at the library.

The end result of that was Dean and Sam hogging the computer and me standing behind them and hovering. Dean was entering searches of anything that had to do with a murdered girl, or a death on Centennial, he even included the hitchhiking.

It didn't look like it was turning up any results, until Sam offered help, "Let me try," he said.

"Got it," Dean snapped rudely, and I shook my head, "Enough fighting children, or I'll take it away and make you sit in separate corners," I warned them.

Dean looked over his shoulder and smirked, "You and what army shorty?" I glared at him until Sam pushed him away and he rolled away from the computer, "Dude..?!" I shrugged, "That army," I answered.

Dean gave me a brief glare then turned and swiped at Sam's arm, "Such a control freak," he grumbled.

Sam started typing at the keyboard, "So angry spirits are born from violent deaths, right?" I nodded, "That's the general story behind it yeah," I answered.

Dean nodded, "Yeah."

"Then maybe it's not murder," Sam concluded, narrowing his eyes at the screen and he replaced the word murder with suicide, and clicked enter.

The result yielded a suicide on Centennial, "This was 1981, Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania bridge, drowns in the river," Sam read it out loud, and already I started getting an idea of what had happened. There was a reason to this, there had to be.

"Does it say why she did it," Dean asked. "Yeah," Sam answered, and I felt myself nod, "Go on Sam."

"An hour before they found her, she calls 9-1-1. Her two little kids are in the bathtub, she leaves them alone for a minute and she comes back, and they aren't breathing. Both die," Sam read through the article. "Our babies were gone and Constance just couldn't bare it, said husband, Joseph Welch."

"That bridge look familiar to you," Dean asked us. We both nod, but there was just one thing I don't get.

"But something about this doesn't add up," I point out. Dean gets up and faces me, "Like what?"

"Well, if this was an accident, then she could have explained, there would be no reason to blame yourself or commit suicide," I state obviously, "Besides, what mother leaves her kids alone in the bathtub deliberately," I ask.

Sam and Dean look at each other then back at me and I can see something click in Sam's head – he knows I'm right about this, "It would be normal to feel guilty I guess if she did leave them for half a minute or even less than that, but to kill yourself…? I don't think so," I reasoned, as we walked out of the library.

"Okay then so if it took you only a few minutes to figure that out," Dean started out until I cut him off sharply, "Seconds actually."

The way his nostrils flare I can tell he's getting impatient, "Okay seconds, fine, whatever. What would make you think that this mom killed her own kids?"

"Cause of a really common urban legend my brother and uncle told me. In South America, it's known as La Llorona," I say, "It means weeping woman. And the legend goes, that she was widowed and left with 2 children to care for, and she falls in love with this guy, who ends up rejecting her, cause either he doesn't want kids or cause he deems her not good enough for him, so she goes out to a lake and drowns her kids, and then she goes back to her lover only to have him reject her a second time, and she realizes too late what she's done and commits suicide," I finish reciting my story and look at them, "Sound familiar?"

Sam's face is unreadable, but they flash wide with understanding, "It would seem like a good theory or motive to do that," he admitted, and now it was just Dean staring us down.

"Well then I say we go to the bridge and see for ourselves and get to the bottom of this. And prove who's right or wrong," Dean stated confidently.

"Whatever you say Fred," I shrug, though it hardly seemed necessary, I knew that he knew I was right.

"Wouldn't hurt to see for ourselves," Sam admitted, and I found myself wondering if this guy ever picked a side, or if there was ever a time, he agreed with his brother.

But I pushed that thought aside as we agreed to go to the Sylvania bridge tonight and check it out ourselves. I had parked my car next to theirs but a bit away from bridge, and followed after the brothers as they walked onto it.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive," Dean mentioned as he looked over onto the side of the bridge observing the rushing waters.

"Looks like it," I murmured in response.

"So you think dad would have been here? Or your brother," he pointed out as he looked from Dean to me.

"Well he's chasing the same story, and so might her brother," Dean shrugged, "And we're all chasing them," he replied then sauntered away from the side, and I turned and glanced at the brothers.

"Okay so now what?" Sam asked.

"Now we keep digging till we find them," Dean answered, "It might take awhile."

Sam stopped, "Dean. I told you I gotta get back by-" "Monday." They said together, "Right. The interview. Yeah, I forgot."

I looked up, "Interview? Like for a job?" I asked arching a blond brow.

"Yeah," Dean answered, "He's on his way to being a lawyer, my Sammy. You're really serious about this aren't you? You think you're just gonna become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

Sam shrugged, not really paying attention to his cynical tone, "Maybe. Why not?"

"Does Jessica know the truth about you?" Dean asked squinting his eyes at him and drawing his brows together sharply, "I mean does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam's back stiffened and I could tell this was turning into a confrontation, "No and she's not ever going to know," Sam said in a firm voice.

Dean nodded callously, "Well that's healthy," he remarked, "You can pretend all you want Sammy, but sooner or later, you're gonna have to face up to who you really are," he said wisely.

The older brother turned his back and kept on walking, and Sam followed after him, and I just stopped and leaned against the railings, "And who's that?" Sam demanded sharply.

"One of us…"

I rubbed my temple and felt a slight pain explode around my head, in a slow thumping migraine. The slow pounding pain was drowning out their voices and I couldn't hear of the argument unfolding; it was always like this it was like an explosion going off in my head, like water trying to break through a dam. And just like that I'd hear a barrage of hissing assaulting my ears.

"H-H-s-s-s-s…," That sound was coming from everywhere it seemed, suddenly I heard a thud, and that what broke through the noise for me. I looked over and saw Dean pinning Sam against one of the poles murmuring something to Sam lowly.

Immediately I reacted, "Hey guys, knock that off," I said and ran to pull Dean off of Sam.

"Don't talk about her like that," Dean warned Sam one more time and let me pull him off, slowly.

He stepped away from his brother and the air seemed tense between them, and just when I was hoping for a temporary peace, I could hear the noise again. "Help…usssss…."

Frowning to myself I tried to shake the voices off, only to feel cold suddenly.

It seemed Dean could feel something too cause I saw his back stiffen, and he looked to the side of the bridge, "Sam…?"

I looked up and saw a woman dressed in a white torn-in-places billowing white willowy dress, and from the lighting I could tell she was a brunette.

Slowly she turned giving us a view of her face, and I felt a hollow feeling in me – it was the woman from the newspaper article. It was Constance.

She stared at us for a moment longer before gracefully falling off the bridge and into the waters below.

Sam reacted right away by running to where she had been standing with Dean running after him and me behind them.

They looked over on the side, "Where'd she go?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam answered distractedly.

"I can't see her," I whispered looking hard at the waters below us.

Right while we were distracted by her fall, I could see from the corner of my eye, lights turning on. I turned before Sam and Dean could, and saw that it was there Impala. Their car had revved to life and now the brothers noticed.

"What the-," Dean said aloud in shock.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asked in mild surprise.

Dean slowly reached into his pocket and produced his keys.

"Mystery solved," I murmured aloud.

Dean threw me a sideways glance but the look was brief since the car started in on right at us, and we ran for our lives. My legs pumped as fast as they could as I kept up with Sam and Dean's pace to avoid getting hit by the car. I suppose the smart thing to do would be to get out of the way.

And so I tried that – I jumped out of the way and the car just kept on going tearing after them.

"Can't believe that worked," I murmured to myself.

I watched as the brothers veered off to the side and jumped over the railings and into the waters beneath. "Guys!" I shouted and ran to where they had been. Luckily by then the car had stopped driving, and was completely still.

I saw Sam holding on for his life dangling from protruding pole nailing the bridge together. "Sam," I hollered and reached my hand out to him.

He grunted and struggled to lift his one hand and take mine, as he held on with the other. Good thing he had such good stamina.

"Come on," I grunted and pulled with all my might, and he lifted himself up and climbed back onto the bridge. He sat on the railing and looked down, "Dean!" He shouted, looking down and into the waters, searching for his brother.

I followed his gaze also searching for any sign of the older Winchester.

"Dean!" He shouted again, on a more panicked note. "Rocky!" I yelled, and Sam looked back at me with raised brows.

I shrugged, "What?"

He shook his head and fought back a smile, as we both looked down and to our relief we saw him crawling out onto the shores in a slumped posture.

"What?!" He yelled back exasperatedly.

"Hey," Sam breathed out in relief, "Are you alright?" I think that question was pretty self-explanatory. Physically, I'm guessing Dean was just fine, but that didn't change the fact that he was covered from head to toe in foulness I can't even begin to imagine.

This was the town's water supply where else would their plumbing empty into~?

"I'm super…," Dean replied lowly in a sarcastic tone as he held his hand up pressing together his thumb and forefinger together in an O.K sign.

Sam shook his head, and let out a short laugh in relief, I smiled at him, "Good to hear," I called back to him.

We both walked back over to go get him.

"Car alright?" Sam asked Dean, and I stared at them with my hands in my pockets.

Dean, covered in mud, dirt, and some unidentified substances, met us back at his Impala, "Yeah, whatever she did to it, it seems alright now," he observed it then closed the front trunk, after checking the mechanics.

"Man that Constance chick, what a BITCH!" He yelled loudly.

Sam looked around, "Well she doesn't want us digging around that's for sure," he observed.

Dean leaned against his Impala with a grunting sigh, and Sam mirrored his action, "So where's the trail go from here genius?"

His brother lifted his arms in a shrug then looked down and wiped his fingers of the mud.

I sat next to Sam, away from the rancid smelling Winchester brother. "You smell like a toilet," Sam stated the obvious after wrinkling his nose, and I agreed with that. "A backed up one," I added looking away, astounded that I could smell it all the way from here.

Dean looked down at himself and scowled, which made his lips pucker out. "Well," I started out, "I think the next thing we should do is find a motel room, or in Dean's case some place that has a shower," I stated obviously and got off the Impala to head back to my Pontiac.

"Hey wait a damn second," Dean snapped and got up from his impala and walked over to me, which made me straighten my back and lean my head back slightly. "What?" I asked casually.

Dean stared me down challengingly, "…," his jaw clenched and unclenched.

"Well?" I urged, "Look we're wasting time with this attempt at conversation. We can talk later okay?" I negotiated.

He scowled at me, but looked appeased, "Fine. Cause I still got some more questions for you."

I nodded and went to climb back into my car, and revved it up to drive up to the local motel, I knew the brothers would meet me there anyways.

It looked like the motel was at least 2 miles away so by the time I got there, the Winchesters had already pulled up right next to me, and it was already early dawn the sun was up high. I greeted them then together we walked into the motel guest registry and Dean slapped a credit card down (obviously one that had a false identity). "One room please," he said, including all 3 of us.

The elderly motel owner looked down at it then back at us, or Dean specifically, "You guys having a reunion or something," he asked in a croaking withered voice.

I could see Dean's shoulders stiffen and those words also caught my interest. Sam looked between everyone, "What do you mean?"

"Another guy with the same last name came this way, and with his nephew I think," he answered. This caught my attention immediately, "Bought out a room for the whole month," he stated.

My brother was here and with John Winchester of all people, I was right all along then. "Do you know if they're still here? Is his nephew here now," I asked all but in one eager breath.

Dean turned and looked at Sam, then his hazel green eyes flicked towards me.

"Which room are they staying in? We wanna surprise them," I asked then explained.

The old clerk nodded and told us to the room, Room #10. Then he gave us our room; we left and Sam went and picked the lock of the room. Sam and I walked in first, and Dean was standing outside, looks like he was keeping watch.

Sam turned away while I was looking all around the room. I heard a grunt and a shuffle behind me – Sam had grabbed Dean and pulled him inside the room.

He abruptly closed the door behind Dean and both of them looked around too.

There were pictures, photographs, parchments of paper scattered all around. "Woah," Sam murmured sharing my surprise clearly. Dean was looking off to the side in a mixture of relief and surprise.

He walked off to go observe something, and Sam looked down to the side, I saw a food container Carl's Jr. "My brother was here," I murmured in relief and hope.

I heard a click and saw Dean switching on a light on the nightstand. There was a half-eaten hamburger, left discarded in the fast food wrapper.

I looked and saw a ring of salt and frowned, "Looks like they were trying to ward something off," I murmured to myself, ignoring the sound of disgust Dean was making after sniffing at the burger. Sam nodded, "I think you're right," he agreed with me.

"And by the smell looked like he's been here for a couple days at least," Dean observed scrunching up his face.

Sam touched the salt rubbing it between his fingers, "And the salt, cat's eye shells, looks like he was worried. Like you said he was trying to keep something from coming in," Sam got up and looked around.

Dean moved to look at the wall, which was decorated with papers and news articles, and Sam joined him, "What do you got there?"

"Centennial highway victims," Dean murmured in response.

"All men then, any differences?" I asked looking around distractedly.

"Nope other than they were just heading that way," Dean answered, "Which is what I don't get. I don't get it," he declared in frustration, "I mean they're different men, different jobs, different ages, ethnicities," his voice trailed off.

Sam looked away and stared off to the side behind us, "I mean there's always a connection right?" Dean's voice trailed off. "What do these guys have in common?"

I looked over my shoulder at Sam who was staring now at the opposite wall, and that was when something caught my eye, ripped off paper taped onto the wall – though that wasn't what caught my attention, it was the words.

Devils+ Demons

It had scribbled on it, "That's my brother's handwriting," I said aloud in shock.

This earned a look from Sam, "Guess we know now for a fact that he was here with our dad."

Then Sam moved his head off to the side and he frowned, "Hey Sonia? I think you were right about that story and what we were facing," he murmured.

"Yeah?" I asked tearing my eyes away from the words and to Sam in question.

He shook his head slowly, "And it looked like dad and your brother figured it out," Sam stated flatly.

Dean frowned, "What do you mean?" He turned and looked from me back to his brother.

"He found the same article we did," Sam replied, looking back at him, "Constance Welch. She's a Woman in White."

It looked like Dean finally got it, cause the next thing I heard him say made me snicker, "These sly dogs…"

"Anything else to say," I asked him with a smug feeling growing in my chest – I was right all along it seemed.

"Nope," Dean smiled at me crookedly, and I just rolled my eyes, "Butthead."

Dean gave me an exasperated look, "Again with that what is-?"

Sam coughed loudly, "Wrong time Dean."

"Alright so if we're dealing with a Woman in White, dad would have found the corpse or remains and destroyed it," Dean rolled his eyes glancing between us.

Sam frowned murmuring quietly, "She might have another weakness," he narrowed his eyes in a slight squint.

"Home…," I whispered to myself.

This made Dean look at me, "What?"

I scoffed, "Remember the recording? 'I can never go home'?" I reminded him.

Sam nodded slowly, "Yeah…"

"No dad would wanna make sure and dig her up," Dean approached his brother. "Does it say where she's buried?" Sam shook his head, "Nah, not that I can tell."

"She drowned herself. Jumped from the bridge remember? Anything to be found would have been washed away," I said quietly. Sam nodded in agreement, "Yeah…but if I were dad though I'd go ask her husband," he pointed to the photograph in the article of the grieving husband. "Think he's still alive."

"If he's still alive," I added, looking around for something then frowned then went to look at the bathroom mirror. When we were younger, I remember how my brother and I would leave each other secret messages for each other, sometimes on little scraps of paper, sometimes….well, when it came to places like the bathroom, we'd leave it on the toilet seat rolls or paper towels, but that was a matter of location. Or sometimes…we'd- I glanced at my reflection on the bathroom mirror and frowned then leaned forward over the counter and blew hot air onto the glass.

Hey sis' bro was here

-R

I smiled slightly at the curt and quick message. Sometimes we'd leave messages for each other in places no one ever expected like mirrors or the windows.

"Hey," I jumped at the sudden husky voice from behind me. "Mind clearing out, I wanna take a shower and clean this crap off of me," he said then smirked at me, "You know unless you feel like joining me~"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, "No thanks. Not yet, first you gotta take me out," I joked mildly and winked at him cutely as I walked out.

I left the bathroom before I heard him say anything else. Stepping out of the bathroom I saw Sam standing by the wall looking at what looked to be a photograph.

Looked like he was miles away so I let him have a moment.

Sauntering over to the bed, I wrinkled my nose slightly and brushed away some of the things on it, and sat down, and wondered if I should risk and go out to my car to get my gear.

I make a decision and decide to get up, "I'm gonna go grab my stuff out of my car," I say quietly.

Sam gave me a nod, "Okay."

Funny it looked like there was something to talk about, but he chose not to say anything.

I quietly exit the motel room and walk to my blue Pontiac – the whole time I think that I should probably give my mom or Alex a call at least. Even my brother; he at least should know that I found his clues. I open my back trunk and grab my backpack; looking back on this whole thing, it was probably going to be a long trip, which meant I should have packed more provisions. I only packed at least 2 weeks worth of clothes, and as for food, I had cash, but even that would eventually run out, I had my laptop to help me out, and then there was my family's archived journal – the only other thing that I packed in excess was my artillery and weapons. It was one of the things my mom taught me, always be prepared.

Grabbing my bag, I let out a sigh and walked back to Room # 10.

I step in and close the door and lock it; I look to see Sam on the phone, he's probably on the phone and waiting to leave a voicemail.

"Hey man I'm starving," Dean comes out dressed in fresh clothes and spotless….and stink-free, thank god.

"I'm gonna go and grab something to eat at that diner down the street," Dean said going to grab his jacket.

"Either of you want anything," he asked turning to look at the two of us.

"If you're paying then sure," I say with a smirk back at him to which he responded to with a smile and shake of his head.

"Nah," Sam shook his head softly.

Dean made some kind of remark, which I didn't quite register, since I went back to digging inside my bag.

He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Sam went right back to listening to his messages. "Girlfriend?" I guessed – that reminded me that I should see how Alex is doing. Suddenly he stopped and pressed a button and answered it, "What?" I looked up, but didn't hear what was being said.

He stood up abruptly, "What about you?"

The conversation was quick and brief, as Sam hung up, "We gotta go." I frowned at that, "Wait, what? Why?"

"Police spotted Dean, and he needs us to find my dad and your brother. Come on," he grabbed my hand and pulled me along as we ducked out of there. Good thing I was still clutching onto my bag. We waited for the police to be gone as we hid for about an hour in the bathroom, and climbed out the window.

Once we saw them driving off with Dean we made our way to the Impala – I had to make the regretful decision of leaving my Pontiac behind and come back for it later.

Good thing Dean left the keys behind so we could use his car. "So where to?" I asked as Sam drove on through a long narrow stretch of road, "Joseph Welch's place, he might know something about Constance."

"The husband then," I nodded quietly.

It got quiet between us with nothing except the whirling wind filling the silence between us.

A little more and I think one of us would have cracked, and the one that cracked turned out to be Sam, "So then….Sonia, how old are you exactly?"

I turn to look at him and smile, "Going on 19 in a few months. Why?"

Sam just shook his head, "Nothing. You just look too young to be doing this," he pointed out.

I shrugged, "Was raised into this. So was my mom before me, and so was my grandma," I admitted.

Sam's grip on the steering wheel tightened, "Doesn't really seem fair though, I mean it sounds like you never got a choice in the matter."

I glance at him with a frown, "There's always a choice even when it seems like all this has been forced on you,….in the form of your parent forcing a gun into your hands. So believe it or not, I chose this life, just like my brother did before me."

Sam's jaw clenched at that, "And what about your personal life? School? Friends? Boyfriends? Normal stuff? It never got in the way of it all? Did you even have that at all?"

I snort, "You make it sound like I'm some kind of alien who's just been dropped off on here. I know what those things are Sam. And no, it never got in the way of school, or my social life. For my mom, school was always important and she always had us choose school before hunting."

He grew quiet at that, so I continued, "Who says you can't balance it out and do it all?"

The younger Winchester brother glanced at me briefly, "Okay fine school was school, but what about the future then?"

"You mean college," I turned my face to look at him, "I've already gone Sam. I went to Wellington College, majored in Liberal Arts," I said, "And as for my social life. I got to have it too. I had friends, and even had a boyfriend too, who I still keep in close touch with."

He's quiet, as he takes this all in, so I just smirk, "So you tell me if I still don't have a life," I finish boldly.

When he still didn't say anything I scowl at him, "Look this is your little family drama, I'm not a part of it I'm sorry so its not my place to take sides or offer my opinion. But I will say this to you now Sam. Whatever beef you got with your brother…or your dad, work it out. Trust me this isn't worth losing family over. This life's too short."

And we lapse into silence again, and I can see that what I've said may have sunken into his head.

Before he can say anymore, we get there and get out of the car. He leads the way as I follow him to Mr. Welch's humble abode. He knocks on the door, and waits. That's when I see a silhouette move and the door opens revealing a man with a weather-beaten face with a morning stubble. He's wearing a baseball cap and eyes us suspiciously.

Sam starts the conversation off, "Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah," he answers with one nod.

"We're here to talk to you," I say softly.

Sam, Joseph and I walk along as the two talk, Sam hands him a photograph, asking if the man in the photograph came by, "Yeah he's older but that's him. Came about 3 or 4 days ago. Said he was a reporter. He came with someone too, his partner probably."

"Who?" I ask suddenly, this catching my attention. "A young fella, kinda long hair, built," he scrunched his brow together.

That matched Rick's description.

Sam gave me a sideways glance and nodded, "That's right we're working on a story together."

Joseph looked up at him then at me, "Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're workin' on. The questions they asked me…," he sighed looking out ahead.

"About Constance," Sam stated curiously.

"He asked me where she was buried," Joseph slowly as he came to a halt. Sam nodded slowly, "And where is that again," he asked with interest, as I nodded.

Joseph grumbled something, "What's this for again?"

"Just back-checking," Sam answered.

"We wanna have our facts straight," I agreed with him.

"In a plot," Joseph answered as he resumed his pace, "In the old place over on Breckenridge," he claimed.

"Why did you move?" Sam asked carefully.

"I'm not gonna live in the house, my children died," he said painfully.

"Mr. Welch did you ever marry again?" Sam asked as he moved to stand in front of him.

"No way," Joseph answered automatically, "Constance, she was the love of my life," he declared firmly, "Prettiest woman I've ever known."

Sam stared at him cautiously, "So you had a happy marriage?"

Joseph hesitated for a moment, "Definitely…," he answered after a long pause, and I could already tell that was a lie. And it seemed that so could Sam after the look we shared with each other.

"Well that should do it," Sam said pleasantly enough, "Thanks for your time," he said then turned and beckoned me to follow him.

I give Sam a long meaningful look, and he sighed as he looked down at the keys in his hands – he and I were both thinking the same thing, so I turn and look back at Joseph, "Mr. Welch wait up just a second," I holler.

He turns to look back at us, with a scrutinizing look, and Sam picks up from there, "Mr. Welch did you ever hear of a Woman in White?"

He blinks at that unexpectedly, and in confusion, "A what?" He asks incredulously.

"A Woman in White," I repeat again, "Or sometimes known as La Llorona." Sam nodded, "Which means Weeping Woman."

Joseph stares at us like we're both speaking a different language, so Sam starts going into depth, "It's a ghost story. You know, heh," Sam chuckles slightly, "It's more of a phenomenon really. They're spirits," Sam starts to approach Joseph slowly, "They've been sighed for hundreds of years, dozen's of places," he adds, "In Hawaii, and Mexico, and lately in Arizona, and Indiana. And all these are different women, you understand but all share the same story."

"Or one that's similar but twisted enough to match," I add as I watch Sam coming to stand before Mr. Welch, who slowly shakes his head in disbelief, "Boy, I don't care much for such nonsense."

"See when they were alive," Sam continues obviously not deterred, "Their husbands were unfaithful to them." Joseph stopped at that right away and his back stiffened, and I knew that Sam had touched a nerve, "And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children," Sam said eying him hard.

Joseph slowly turned and faced Sam with new but distant eyes, "Then once they've realized what they had done," Sam went on, "They took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed," Sam concluded, "Walking back roadways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him and that man is never seen again," Sam murmured.

Joseph's lips quivered in anger and disbelief, "You think…you think that has something to do with…Constance…,you smartass," he accused in outrage.

I stepped away from the car, "Mr. Welch easy now…," I chide quietly.

"You tell me," Sam says softly, not bothered by the accusation – I have to give this guy props for his patience.

Joseph is giving off light tremors, "I mean…maybe…maybe I made some mistakes," he admitted shamefully.

I snorted to myself, that's one way of putting it.

The older man took a deep shaky breath and quivered in silent anger, "But no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children," he said furiously, "Now you get the hell out of here," he demanded, "Both of you," he yelled angrily, "And you don't come back."

His anger changes and morphs into grief, and I see we've just added fresh wounds to the old ones….or reopened them and poured salt over them.

The older grieving widower stalked away from us sullenly not once looking back at us.

Sam turned to look back at me, and I press my lips together, "He cheated." I say lowly.

The Winchester boy nodded and stalked back to the car, "So now what do we do," I asked him, "Should we try and lure her out?"

"With what?" Sam asked obviously, "If you haven't noticed, I'm not unfaithful, and I never have been," he admitted.

I stare at him and smile impishly, "You're so cute," I chuckle.

His ears turn red at that and I know I just made him feel flustered, "Uh thanks," he smiled awkwardly, "But seriously how do we do this?"

I sighed, "Well your brothers in at the police station so I would have suggested using him as bait, but we're short-staffed right now, and you're the only man we have in supply. Unless you know you wanna bind and gag the husband and use him as bait," I suggest.

Sam's mouth drops open at that, so I quickly add, "Kidding," I say abruptly, "That was a joke."

He relaxed and nodded, "So you think I should be the bait then?"

I shrugged, "Well look at it this way, the last guy? Troy, right? He had a girlfriend. That Amy girl, remember? And Constance still tempted him to cheat," I point out.

I see his shoulders sag slightly, and he knows I do have a point, "The point is you don't have to cheat per se, just…you know," I wave my hand at a gesture and Sam nods, "Yeah okay I get it. And what will you be doing?"

"I'll be following along at a safe distance behind you as back up. We might not get to her body and remember you got something happening on Monday and you want a quick and easy, right? So if she wants to go home, we'll take her home," I say smartly.

Sam stares at me, and I see it dawning on him that I might have a point, "Okay then, we can try it this way."

We get into the car and drive off towards the motel pick up my car and head off towards Centennial; I follow him at a safe distance, but enough no to lose him.

It's already dark and I turn on my headlights to see where he's going. From a distance I notice him skidding to an abrupt halt and I press on my breaks too. By the looks of it, he was just surprised by something.

I squint my eyes and draw back in a silent gasp as I see 'her' the Woman in White sitting in his back seat.

I hold my breath and wait to see what happens next. I look down and slowly reach out to grab the gun in my glove compartment just in case.

Just then the Impala started up and drove off and then I heard my doors lock, I turned the keys trying to start the car up, but it wouldn't, "Dammit," I cursed. Dean was right, Constance was a bitch, she made my car stop completely, so I wouldn't follow.

Scowling, I waited and watched as the car drove off leaving me behind.

Impatiently I twisted the keys without stopping until the engine roared to life and I drove off in a hurry after Sam. He was so far ahead, I could only make out a dot in front of me, but I struggled not to lose him. As I kept on driving, tearing down through the road, I struggled to keep up but at the same time tried being careful so I wouldn't get myself killed. Even though this was my mom's car, and as much as she loved this car, she'd be more afraid and pissed that I got myself hurt, than me destroying her mechanical baby.

I finally managed to find the end of Breckenridge road and saw the Impala parked in front of the old ruined house. My eyes struggled to make out Sam's silhouette inside it, but I couldn't see him. All I could see was Constance sitting in the driver's seat, and it looked like she was hovering and leaning over someone.

That I could tell was Sam then, and I could see her bending down, so on reflex I shot at the back windshield.

She looked up at me with hostile eyes and vanished. Frowning I held my gun, locked and loaded in case she'd reappear. It was quiet until I heard a pained shout and yell, and recognized it as Sam's voice, "Sam?!" I jogged to the car.

Right then Dean appeared and shot at the driver's side window and fired a few more rounds at the apparition, until she disappeared.

She reappeared again and this time both Dean and I fired our rounds at her until she vanished again. Sam regained his bearings but his face scrunched up and he looked mildly pissed, "I'm taking you home," he hissed then revved up the car and drove straight into the house. "Sam!" Dean shouted loudly.

"We gotta go," I murmured and ran towards the crash site.

Dean immediately followed after me, and we saw that Sam had crashed right into the living room of the house, or at least what used to the living room. "Sam," Dean yelled again, "Sam you okay?"

"Yeah I think," Sam grunted out.

"Can you move?" Dean asked.

"Anything broken?" I asked looking around cautiously.

"Yeah…,and no I don't think so…," Sam murmured and pushed some of the debris away as he moved to get out, with Dean's help as I kept watch and then I saw her moving to pick up a family photo.

I glared at her as Sam and Dean straightened up and looked at her; that was when she looked up at us and glared then threw the photo aside and flickered out of the way only to have a drawer slide and ram right into us keeping us pinned in place by our waistlines. She glowered at us menacingly as I heard Sam grunting and groaning trying to push the drawer out of the way. Constance moved towards us, but stopped when the lights above her started flickering on and off, and I suddenly I heard the sound of water dripping and running. It ran in rivulets down the staircase, and I lifted my gaze upwards to the top step; Constance mimicked my gesture and we both saw silhouettes of two tiny figures there. Her children… She moved to see them, and I could see that even she looked scared.

The two figures latched their hands together, "You've come home to us mommy…"

Suddenly they appeared behind her and she whirled to face them in fear and hesitation. They moved and latched onto her and she released the most horrific piercing shriek I've ever heard, her image melted and distorted into nothing but a puddle of water.

We pushed the drawer down and away from us, and walked over to the puddle.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Dean asked aloud.

"That's why she could never go home," Sam murmured quietly, "She was too scared to face them."

Dean nodded, "You found her weak spot. Nice work Sammy." And with that he smacked him on the chest, causing a pained laugh to escape Sam's lips.

"Easy now," I chuckled out.

"I just wonder one thing," Dean said, "How come she didn't go for you?" He glanced at me.

I shrugged, "Cause I'm a girl…," I pointed out, "Her targets are men. I was safe from her all along."

"She's right, and ha, yeah I wish I could say the same for you," Sam admitted, "What were you two thinking shooting Casper in the face?"

Dean shrugged, "Hey, saved your ass," he smirked, "I'll tell you another thing if either of you've screwed up my car, I'll kill you," he stared at the damage then glanced at us again.

With that we got into our cars and I followed them back seeing as on our way out, Dean and I reached an agreement that we'd team up and look for my brother and his dad together. Right now we just had to drop Sam back off at Stanford and with his girlfriend.

I had parked on the side of the road behind the Impala and watched as Sam got out of the passenger's seat, then he leaned over and said something to Dean who was at the driver's seat, then moved on until he stopped and looked back and Dean must have said something cause Sam nodded and answered back.

Then Dean raised his hand out the window and beckoned for me to follow him.

I drove after him and we parked a way's away from the dorm, I got out of the car, and sauntered up to him as he got out of his car, "So, I never gotta say…thanks for, helping out with this job," Dean said as he made his way towards me.

"And just how do you intend to thank me," I smirk at him impishly

"How about a date and a guaranteed fun time," he smirked back at me.

I let out a chuckle, "I'll think about it, but if you pay then you can get a yes outta me," I teased.

He smiles at me then as he looks past me and his smile slowly fades and he looks horrified. "What," I asked slowly then see his gaze cutting past me to something that's behind me. I look over my shoulder – I see what has him so terrified, "Crap!" I let out a curse and before I know it Dean runs off ahead of me.

Sam's dorm is on fire! I feel my feet moving along and following right after Dean, who finds a door and kicks it down and runs in. It all unfolds so fast and in such a warm and malevolent flurry, that I could hardly make out Sam's shouts, and hysterics. But it was like chaos with the fire roaring like some live starving creature.

Dean had grabbed Sam who was trying to struggle and should something, which I didn't catch but I still feel and hear the flames. Next thing I'm aware of the ambulance and fire department arrive to put out the flames, and after some reassurances from Dean, I get back into my own car and see Sam and Dean loading the trunk.

I stare at them and silently wonder what just happened…but I don't have much time to think on this whole thing.

My phone suddenly buzzes with 2 text, and I slid it open and frowned as I stared at the text.

Go….with them. Don't…Turn back….now.

I frowned as I stared at the odd message, and looked down at the number it was an unknown number.

Grabbing a pen I wrote the number down and then tried to dial it. "We're sorry the number you have dialed has either been disconnected is no longer in service. If you want to, please hang up and try your call again…" The mechanical automatic voice of the woman ended sharply and I was left stumped, with no answers and more questions and only one direction in my life at the moment, the only sensible and solid lead…