Title: Legend of the fall

Summary: When people start disappearing in the woods of Pennsylvania some time around Halloween, Dean goes to investigate the case and finds out that there could be more to the legend about the Headless Horseman than he'd first thought.

Spoilers: Season 3 only

Characters: Dean, Bela, Sam, mentions of Bobby

Pairings: Dean/Bela (further down the line)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of this story. The plot, however, is all mine.

Author's Note: This story is AU and takes place somewhere in the middle of Season 3 before "Dream a little dream of me". I was toying with this idea for quire a while and finally decided to put it into something other than my thoughts. Hope it's going to be fun to read it :))

Chapter 1

"Now, tell me once again, Bela, what the hell am I doing here?" Dean Winchester grumbled zipping his jacket up to his very throat to avoid blistering cold wind that was using each and every chance to get underneath his clothes. Unfortunately, neither that, not tucking his hands into the pockets helped much.

"Mm, looking for a ghost?" Bela Talbot offered helpfully, voice light. "The question is, what the hell am I doing here with you?"

"Keeping an eye on me so that I didn't screw up the case?" Dean supposed willingly using exactly the same voice. And then, "Like some freaking babysitter," under his breath but loud enough for her to hear.

In response, Bela flashed her best smile at him.

It didn't go past her that Dean rolled his eyes, all annoyance.

None of them spoke after that and for a while the shuffling of dry leaves beneath their feet and howling of the wind in the naked crowns of the trees were the only sounds breaking the eerie silence of the night.

Dean threw a quick sidelong glance out of the corner of his eye at his traveling companion and huffed to himself. Bela had her hair pulled up into a tight ponytail with a few curled strands framing her face, and right at the moment that very pony tail was swinging merrily from side to side as she walked. She didn't seem to be even merely bothered by freezing air. In fact, looking at her one could assume that she was having a walk in the park on a bright sunny day which made Dean suspect that her comfort was directly related to the fact that she knew how much it was getting on his nerves. Chin tipped high, she was making her way forward without paying attention to the cold or uneven ground as if she was actually enjoying the whole thing.

And who on Earth wouldn't enjoy walking through the dark woods several days before Halloween searching for the ghost from one of the creepiest legends known to mankind?

Dean looked up at the dark moonless sky covered with heavy low clouds – or at least that was what he saw when it wasn't dark yet – and shook his head hoping they'd be lucky enough to avoid getting soaked in the rain. Gave Bela another studying glance and wondered how could she look so professional and classy and like she was heading to yet another business meeting of hers even wearing a pair of jeans and sport shoes? At least she knew better than putting on her bloody heels when going to a field trip, Dean thought mischievously. And wondered how it even happened that he listened to her and ended up in the woods of Pennsylvania in the first place instead of watching TV and drinking beer in his own motel room. Preferably, several states away from here and most likely having Sam as a comforting background noise.

How on Earth could he believe even for one goddamned second that the Headless Horseman was real? Gee, it was almost as ridiculous as that case when fairy tales were coming to life in the most cruel and sadistic way. With the exception that evil fairy tales were real back then. As for the Headless Horseman, he wasn't all that sure.

"You're so going to owe me if we don't find a thing," Dean muttered, his breath came out in a small white cloud.

The beam of his flashlight was sliding along the earth capturing tree trunks and bushes here and there, eyes scanning their surroundings thoroughly for any indication of danger or, well, the Headless Horseman.

Bela let out a short laugh. "Try it the other way around, honey. According to our agreement, we find something and then we speak of debts."

Dean made a face at her wishing it was less dark around so that she could appreciate the effort but said nothing, irritated by two things at once: Bela's company in general and the fact that she actually was right.

***

Earlier that day…

Bela turned off the water and slid out of the shower cubicle. Small bathroom was filled with steam and after wrapping herself in a soft white towel with the hotel's logo in the corner she wiped the mirror with her palm to have a better view of her reflection.

She blow-dried and combed her hair; regarded her looks speculatively and nodded with satisfaction, smiling. Ran her fingers through her curls one last time fluffing them and then emerged back into the room, fresh and flushing from hot water, humming softly under her breath the tune that she had heard on the radio earlier that morning, mouth watering at the thought of the breakfast that was waiting for her. Turkey sandwich, fruit salad and – mm! – coffee. Mental image and anticipation nearly made her moan. God, she needed coffee.

She had things to do, too, but not until noon, Bela figured, and that fact felt somewhat inspiring. It was a good idea to check her notebook lest she miss or forget something, and maybe she'd also need to make a couple of phone calls, but it wasn't a big deal. As for now…

Too lost in her thoughts, Bela froze dead in her tracks, shocked, when her eyes finally fixed on the picture that she didn't quite expect to see. Not in her room at least.

Dean Winchester was sitting on top of her bed, his back leaned against the headboard, legs stretched before him and ankles crossed. He didn't even bother to take off his shoes, and seeing his boots on her comforter as if it was the most natural thing ever made Bela thank God that she wasn't armed. It would have made Dean regret that he showed up at all if she were. Yet, he looked like he was having a pretty great time – he was flipping through her magazine with a rather curious expression on his face, furrowing or arching his brows at what he was seeing each time he turned the page while sipping the coffee and taking huge bites from the sandwich every now and then. Her coffee and her sandwich, damn him! Her fruit salad stayed untouched though, Bela noticed with growing fury. Of course. Dean Winchester wasn't exactly a fruit salad type.

Watching him was almost amusing – this kaleidoscope of emotions flashing across his features – and in any other situation it would probably bring a smile to her face. Yeah, in a situation when Dean Winchester wouldn't be ruining her plans for the morning.

When he didn't raise his head to acknowledge her appearance, Bela put her hands on her hips and cleared her throat and somehow managed to hold back a wish to tap her feet on the floor; the very image of it made her wince inwardly. Cold-hearted murder was tempting and she toyed with the idea for a couple of moments.

Dean snapped his head up as though the concept of her possible presence in the room was far beyond him. But he regained his composure quickly.

"Morning, Bela!"

His voice was cheerful when he greeted her, grinning. Saluted her with the cup of her coffee and then finished it in one big gulp. The last bite of her sandwich followed and for while he was too busy to talk trying to chew with his mouth closed, which – assuming the size of the bite – was almost a miracle.

Bela scowled at him.

"What are you doing here?" She inquired with a big deal of mock patience without wasting her time on greeting him back.

Dean swallowed visibly before speaking again and she anything but sighed with relief when he didn't choke. Calling the ER wasn't anywhere in her plans either.

"You called me," Dean shrugged matter-of-factly. "Oh, Christ, I haven't see so much crap in one place for…" paused to consider. "Well, ever." Shook his head and tossed the magazine away to the other half of her double bed. "How can you read it? Seriously, who can ever process that shit in their mind without a couple of glasses of tequila?"

Bela arched her brows elegantly. "Only people with brains. Still, I doubt you came to talk about my reading preferences. How did you find me, Dean?"

"You made me drag my ass across two states overnight," he snorted and rolled off the bed to take a tour around her room. Flicked the reading lamp on and then off, and then turned to look at her once again. "The way you made it sound, I thought it was something important. Honestly, I expected you to be sitting here and looking at your watch ever minute and biting you nails or pacing impatiently around the room, sleepless and restless, while waiting for me."

"You wish!"

"You're breaking my heart, baby."

Dean sighed with feigned disappointment and that was the moment when he seemed to finally notice her outfit, or mostly the lack of it. Brows shot up high, he looked Bela over appraisingly from head to toe before locking his gaze with hers once again.

Bela's eyes anything but popped out of her scull when the realization came to her, too. She felt her cheeks flush and fought to make her scowl deepen, oddly nervous at being thusly observed. Having a bathrobe on, instead of just a towel that was barely covering her hips, would probably make her feel better, but then again it wasn't the first bright thought that came to her a tad belatedly. Yet, she resisted a wish to wiggle her bare toes, out of embarrassment more that anything, and held his gaze, chin tipped high and expression blank, or so she hoped, and all in all did nothing to make her discomfort slip.

"So, what is it?" He asked when simple staring got a bit boring. "Anything decent or you simply missed me?"

Bela ignored his last comment. "It's a long story," she replied evasively.

"Fine," Dean nodded. His brows came together as he considered something, and then, "I'll wait for you downstairs and then we're going to find something to eat. I'm starving. Did you ever try to drive for seven hours with only one stop? And this thing wasn't really filling anyway," with that he poked at the plastic plate with a few breadcrumbs on it that he left on her bed.

"Sounds fair now that you owe me the breakfast," Bela folded her arms on the chest conceding his point even if it wasn't exactly what he meant.

"Whatever. Just do me a favor." His eyes traveled up and down her body one more time as he neared her on his way out, and lingered on her practically bare legs. "Change into something less distracting, would you?"

"Why, Dean!" She drawled and let her lips stretch into her best charming smile. "Like what you see?" Batted eyelashes at him attempting to look coquettish.

"Only when I don't think that it is you," Dean returned cheeky smile and walked out of the door feeling her glare burn a hole in his back.

The lock clicked. Bela rolled her eyes and shook her head. Business, she reminded herself when the thought about checking out and looking for another hotel crossed her mind. Strictly business, and in a way Dean was as much interested in it as she.

***

"So, what's the big idea?" Sam Winchester's voice was mock polite although Bela could hear carefully masked worry ringing in it.

"Hallo, Sam! Nice to hear you, too." She said brightly into the receiver ignoring his obvious hostility.

"Drop it, Bela. What exactly are you dragging Dean into this time?"

"Dean? Meaning, you're not coming to baby-sit your brother? What a shame! Well, I saw that he was alone of course but I thought you might be hanging somewhere in the background." She smirked when he failed to find what to say to that. "What exactly is the nature of your call, Sam? I am kind of busy for a lazy chat now."

"I want to know what you're up to this time."

"I'm sure I don't understand what you mean."

"Why do you need Dean? What's the ploy now?"

"There is no ploy." Bela huffed, insulted. "It's just a case that I thought the two of you might be interested in. Not quite my style but I guess I'd like to be into it, if I were in all this life-saving crap. I'm not, that's why I contacted you."

"Nothing personal, but I just want to be sure that you're not going to make him do dirty work for you and then give him away to the police or whoever in the end."

"Dean's a big boy, it never seemed to be a big thing before." Bela checked her nails and then looked at the watch on her wrist. "Sam? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Aw, come on! I know that the two of you are inseparable and stuff, but that's just a bit too much. You calling me, I mean. There should be a reason."

The pause in the line was long. "Dean's been a bit… risky lately," Sam admitted rather unwillingly at last making Bela wonder what exactly he meant by lately and when Dean wasn't. "I don't want him to do something regrettably stupid."

"Like what? Cliff-diving without a parachute?"

"That, too."

"That's sweet. The way you care about each other. So sweet it feels almost sticky."

"Just make sure he comes out of it alive, okay?"

"I'm not going to get in Dean's way. I'm passing the case over to him and in the end we'll see how it's going to work for both of us. That's it. You want him to be looked after, come and do it yourself. As for me, I know a lot of other ways to entertain myself. I'm not on vacation here anyway."

Another pause followed.

"Please, Bela."

"What the hell is going on, Sam? Why didn't you--?"

"I can't, okay? I'm… busy."

"Fine. Still, I fail to see why any of it is my problem."

"I'll… listen, I'll pay."

"Now, that is interesting." Her brows arched. "But I doubt you can afford my services."

Apparently, he knew that, too.

"I'll find a way."

Pleading wasn't exactly what Bela ever expected to hear from Sam Winchester, and the fact that she was wrong made her feel uncomfortable for the reason that she could see yet. He sounded almost desperate and she dropped her to-hell-with-everything façade feeling strangely worried herself. Something was definitely not right with the two of them. She seriously doubted that Sam would call her in any other situation.

"Now I'm scared. Is Dean in trouble?" In more trouble than being Dean Winchester meant, Bela added to herself on a mental snort. "Seriously, Sam, what is this all about? Just tell me and I'll think about your generous offer."

"It's nothing. Forget it. It's not like I…"

"I presume Dean shouldn't find out about your call, yeah?" Dean was going to kick his brother's ass for it, she guessed.

"I'd appreciate that."

"Look, I'll… I'm not going to promise you anything because your brother and I are not exactly a good team." She winced cursing herself for that stupid spur of a moment softening. Why would she care anyway? "But if you say that it is… you know, important, I'll try to do something, okay?"

"It's not a big thing." She could have sworn that he snorted.

"Yeah, we'll see." And before hanging up, "Get ready to start selling everything you have."

***

Dean was studying the choice of snacks in the snacks-machine near the registration counter downstairs thinking whether to look for the coins to buy Oreos or to save them for the cappuccino from the coffee-machine at his own motel when elevator dinged behind his back. He turned just in time to see the doors slide open, and Bela stepped out of it wearing a dark-blue raincoat over her suite and holding a folder in her hands. She hesitated for a moment to scan the hall and then headed straight to Dean. He, in turn, headed for the door, Oreos forgotten, making her change her course half-way.

A blast of cold wind rushed into the hall when he opened the door and stirred Bela's hair. He held it for her on artificially polite, "After you."

"How very sweet!" She smiled at him over the shoulder. "Finally, I see Sam's positive influence."

"Sam's…? Just move!"

Dean huffed and then stepped out after her, breathing in cool air.

In the diner around the corner Beal took off her raincoat and looked curiously at the collection of posters in Wild, Wild West style hanging over the counter before slipping into the booth. Put the folder on the bench beside her purse and then looked at Dean who was making himself comfortable across from her.

"Feel free to start filling me in," he offered but before she could begin the waitress came up to put two mugs of steaming coffee before them and leave menu. "Unless, of course, I got it right and all this crap was about you missing me badly," he added as soon as the woman was gone to give them time to choose what they'd like to have.

"You can't be seriously thinking that," Bela scoffed.

She took a sip of her coffee, paused to consider something or another and then reached for sugar and cream. Took another sip, nodded with appreciation and only after that bothered to pay attention to Dean who was watching her manipulations with deliberate patience.

"Are you going to start some time this year?" He asked, head cocked slightly.

Bela set her mug aside and put on her best business face.

"Patience, Dean."

He snorted and grabbed the menu.

"I came here…" Bela started but then cut herself off when Dean's brows shot up with interest. "It doesn't matter why I came, actually." Opened her own menu and ran her eyes down the list of breakfast offers. "The thing is, a friend of my client contacted me. His son had gone missing five days ago. He asked me to help find him. At this point I decided you might be interested, and I asked you to come."

Dean froze for a moment and then slowly looked up to meet her eyes; blinked as if not sure that he heard what he heard, and let out a short barking laugh.

"You gotta be kidding," he shook his head in obvious disbelieve. "I'm now what? Missing persons unit?"

"Hold on a sec, Dean, and let me finish, please." And, "Thank you," when he pretended to zip his lips. "Several people disappeared in the area lately, nine to be exact, in this town and a couple of nearest ones. Later, their bodies were found in the woods, decapitated."

Dean grimaced. Apparently, at the image in his mind.

"Crazy psychopaths are not my department," he reminded her.

"The heads were never found," Bela added.

"Call FBI. They like such things."

Bela leaned closer to him over the table with a pretty sympathetic look which, Dean knew by now, couldn't mean anything good to him.

"Do you even know what place is this?" She asked with mock pity.

"This place?" Dean looked pointedly around the diner.

"The town, you dolt," rolling her eyes.

"Hope the one where they serve the best cheeseburgers in the state."

Here they were interrupted by the waitress that appeared once again to re-fill their mugs and collect their orders.

"Tell me I was right about the cheeseburgers," Dean asked her when the woman was gone again.

"This is the only town in the country where the Headless Horseman was witnessed. Not once. You, of all people, should know that."

"Headless… what?" Dean gave the information time to sink in. O-okay! He smirked and looked Bela in the face as if searching for reassurance or explanation, or whatever, half-expecting her to admit that it was a joke. "You're not serious." Leaned over the table and closer to her, too. "There is no such thing as the Headless Horseman, Bela." In a voice like he was talking to someone mentally incompetent.

"Says who?" She arched her brow elegantly not at all taken aback by his implications. "Dear God, who are you and what did you do to my dear friend Dean?"

He made a face at her, feverishly trying to find a decent shot back and shamelessly failing.

The thing that bothered Dean most was that he had read his father's journal numerous of times and knew for sure that there was no hint on the possibility of existence of the Headless Horseman. And, like it or not, but almost everything that he and Sam had ever had to deal with was something that their father or Bobby were aware of, one way or another. Thank God, nothing brand new appeared in the world in the last twenty or so years.

And here Bela Talbot comes – well, calls – and tells him something that even John Winchester didn't know about. A woman who couldn't say a word of truth even when her life depended on it. So why would he even consider taking her seriously?

The train of Dean's thought turned in another direction when the waitress arrived yet again to deliver his plate with a cheeseburger and a large helping of French fries. Compared to it, Bela's omelet and cheese toast looked pitiful.

"Mm," Dean closed his eyes savoring first bite of his second breakfast, an expression of a man who found Heaven on Earth spreading all over his face. "Gotta tell you, the stuff's friggin' delicious," he informed her. "At least I think I got it right about burgers." It came out rather muffled since he never stopped chewing. "So, why exactly did you grace me with your phone call?"

Bela ignored his table manners, or lack of those, in favor of moving straight to business.

"People were disappearing in this area for ages. It usually starts two weeks before Halloween and ends right after. Every year. The story is always the same – headless bodies found in the woods."

"Jack looking for his head," Dean chuckled on a shrug. "By the way, you said something about the witnesses. Did anyone actually see this Headless Horseman or whatever?"

"Heard," Bela corrected him. "Many people heard the clatter of the hoofs and snorting in the woods. Those who probably saw him are, unfortunately, all dead. And then the boy disappeared."

"And the first thing that came to your pretty little head was to call me. I'm flattered."

"Can I take it as a compliment? The part about my pretty head, I mean."

"Not really. But I take it as you're asking me for help, right? Wow! That's something to remember."

"See, my self-esteem allows me to admit that all of us can use some assistance every now and then. Honestly, I see nothing to be ashamed of here."

"Uh-huh," he nodded not sure if her words were meant to be insulting. He was pretty sure they were but couldn't quite put his finger on how exactly. "And you decided to help that guy with his son because…?"

"Because he is going to pay me for it," Bela answered simply.

"Oh, sure. What a stupid question." Dean hemmed. "And the reason why I am listening to all this crap is…?"

"Is that I'm going to pay you if you agree to help me with it." Bela shrugged. "Three grand. Okay for you?" He didn't reply right away, just watched her for a while with a mixture of suspicion and what Bela couldn't interpret other than resentment. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, four. For something that you normally do for free and illegally, in general. What else can you ask for?"

Dean continued to chew slowly, and she could almost hear the wheels turning in his head while he processed her words.

"What's the trick this time? Right, I got it that you want me to do all the work and get the credit. But that's too easy. Why should I believe you?"

"Oh, come on, Dean! We both know that had you heard about any of that before my call, you'd be into this case long before there was any case. What I am offering you is a way to hunt down something dangerous, save lots of lives and earn some money." She paused as if giving his words time to sink in. "The man who asked me for help is crazy about confidentiality. Without me, you won't come anywhere close him. Four grand, Dean. Think about it. How many years would it take you to get even half of that any other way? And why am I wasting my time trying to persuade you?" She shook her head. "You're not interested, I'll find someone else."

And Bela made an attempt to stand up.

"Wait." Dean narrowed his eyes and studied her expression. "You really are serious about this Headless Horseman thing?"

"Thank God it took you only forty minutes to get it! That's a huge step forward. I'm impressed."

She slumped back onto her seat and pretended that she didn't see his grimace.

"Do you know anything beside rumors and hearsay? Like, facts?"

"Here's what I found." Bela pushed the folder she brought across the table in his direction. "Legends, historical records, police reports, articles. Everything I could find. Not much but enough to see the picture." And as an afterthought. "You do know how to read, do you?"

"Ha-ha, funny."

"What? How am I supposed to know what to expect from you without Sam around?"

"Screw you."

"Sweet!" She drawled and smiled at him, all teeth. "But I heard that already. You start repeating yourself."

Dean moved his half-empty plate aside, grabbed a handful of French fries and poked his nose into the folder, genuine curiosity on his face as he flipped rapidly through the pages capturing bits of information here and there.

"Hey, you said there were no witnesses," still chewing and without looking up. "What about this one?"

Bela craned her neck to see what he was talking about.

"Oh, I knew you'd notice." She sighed reaching for her raincoat. Debated paying for herself but then decided not to wound Dean's ego even more, no matter how tempting it was. "A real piece of work, believe me."

***

"… All black and so huge!" Gabe Wilson, a man in his late 70s with a snow-white beard and washed out eyes that must have been bright blue years back but now resembled two pale bits of ice kept repeating over and over again.

He was sitting on the swing bench on the porch of his house – the exact same place where Bela had found him first two days ago – with Dean towering over him and nodding every now and then with the expression of sincere interest on his face. The one that Bela noticed appeared some three minutes ago when he lost actual interest in conversation. She preferred to stay behind and was now leaning against the porch poll, arms folded on her chest waiting for the interview to come to an end.

"… And his cloak was flying after him like two big black wings when he was galloping through the forest but you could never see how it never fell off. You could never see his neck because he didn't have it." Gabe went on and on. "And the horse was black, too, darker than the night. Its eyes were red and glowing in the darkness, and when it was breathing, it was smoke coming out of its nostrils. Creature of hell." He paused to see if his words made right impression on Dean. "I will never forget the day I saw them both. They were so big, mounting right above me." Voice dropped to a whisper by this point as though he was telling a secret. Or maybe he simply wanted to make the story more frightening. "I thought it was my end but then – poof! – they disappeared in a cloud. Just like that." And he nodded to enunciate his point. "So black and so huge like they weren't real, and they weren't…"

"Thank you, sir. That was… interesting." Dean patted him of the shoulder with polite smile. "Thought you already left," he addressed Bela as soon as he turned to leave and spotted her waiting.

"Couldn't miss another round of the show. Helpful?" She tucked her hands into the pockets of the raincoat and followed him down the porch steps.

"He's so nuts!" Dean shook his head.

"Such a sweetheart, huh? I knew you'd like him. What again?" When he scowled at her over the shoulder. "I thought you wanted to have a witness."

"I still do. Do you know what the word witness means? A person who has personal knowledge or experience of something, blah, blah, blah. That," he poked behind, "wasn't a witness."

"Oh, I see. Been reading World Dictionary online? That's cute and, well, admirable."

Dean regarded her grimly as they made their way down the street passing the houses and shops decorated for Halloween followed by at least one hundred of empty carved sockets of pumpkin jack-o-lanterns.

"Why are you even still here, Bela?"

"Taking a tour around the town. Why? Tired of my company so fast?"

"I can't think straight when you're buzzing into my ears like an annoying fly."

Plus, half of what she was saying wasn't even in English in his understanding. Every time she opened her mouth Dean felt like he was back in high school and sitting in the lit class with William Shakespeare written on the blackboard before him. Besides, it was taking too much effort to keep track of the train of her thought.

"Can't think straight when I'm around?" She gasped in disbelief and beamed at him. "Well, if I didn't know you better…"

"Yeah, sorta can't stop trying to come up with a way to finally make you shut up."

They turned around the corner and Bela spotted a sign with the name of her hotel half a block down the street.

"So, you didn't believe that the man actually saw the Headless Horseman?" She asked changing the subject.

"No, I did believe him alright." Dean chuckled. "The problem is, he never mentioned what he drunk or smoked before he saw the horse with 'red eyes glowing in the darkness'. Not really… credible, ya'know. And I know what credible means!" He growled when she only opened her mouth to make a crack.

Bela arched her brows.

"Okay then, now that we're done with establishing the range of your abilities, what do you think about having a late night walk in the woods?"

Dean shrugged. "It's not like there's any other choice than to try and track down this son of a bitch, who-the-hell-ever he is."

"Great! Pick me up at nine."

"What?" He frowned. "You want to go, too? Why?"

Bela flashed another smile at him, her most charming one. "My money go, sweetie, I go."

***

Later in the evening…

Kicking asses and giving punches was Dean's way of dealing with the things. And normally it worked just fine. But strategic planning had never been his strong side and no matter how hard he tried to come up with a better plan after studying everything that Bela managed to find he did not succeed. Apparently, he had no other choice than to share his evening with this most annoying of all women ever.

The file that Bela passed over to him was impressive and he had to admit that she did a good job with that research of hers. All these articles, everything, looked like a sure thing and Dean found himself wondering why neither he, nor Sam, nor Dad ever came across that case because from where he was standing it was purely their job. People kept disappearing for over seventy years – or maybe more, but police records didn't go any farther than that – and none of the heads of the victims was ever found anywhere. Each of the investigations was deep and thorough, supported by a whole lot of paperwork, and yet fruitless. Police blamed the murders on a serial killer – who was never caught, of course. But – shocking! – no one ever saw the pattern. Why Halloween, for example?

Or didn't want to see?

But at the same time something felt wrong although Dean couldn't say what exactly caused that strange suspicion. Could be a random fact that he read in one of the articles but didn't pay attention to, he decided in the end and made mental note to run through all of them once again later. Or… or maybe it was a natural reaction to every single word that Bela Talbot said, even if each of them was confirmed, in a way.

The idea of leaving her behind was tempting. More than tempting because the idea of working together was sickening. And the longer they were walking, looking for something that Dean was sure didn't exist, the more obvious it was getting that it was exactly what he should have done. In this case at least he could have limited this search party to a quick ten minutes survey of the area and headed back to his motel.

"Do you think it will take you only half of the night to get that we're wasting our time or you plan to freeze your ass here till morning?" Dean asked in a pointedly calm voice.

"Five minutes and you're already ready to back off?"

"What d'you mean – five minutes?! Three hours at least! Or maybe it feels this way because time drags when you're around."

"Why wouldn't you call Sam and ask him to verify the information I've given to you? It will surely make you more attuned to the case. Besides, you could use that chance to complain about me. I'm surprised you didn't do it so far. Unbelievable! And why didn't he come, too? You guys what, have problems?"

"Mind your own business, Bela."

The thing was that Sam's over-grown sense of protection, worried looks, guilty expression and desperate attempts to try and find a way out of that situation started driving him crazy months ago and Dean knew that he would most likely grab any case to have an excuse to scram for a while.

"My, my, trouble in paradise?"

"I'd rather eat my shoe than tell Sam that you hired me to chase the Headless Horseman. He'll never let me off the hook after that," Dean snorted. "Embarrassing!"

Bela laughed.

"What?"

"No, nothing. It's just…"

Dean grabbed her by the arm, all tense at once. "Wait. Listen," he whispered.

Bela stopped immediately. "What is it?"

"Can you hear it?"

"What? I can't hear anything."

"Exactly," he breathed out. "Nothing at all." And then, "What the…"

They exchanged puzzled looks.

"Footsteps?" Bela frowned when she caught the faintest sound. It was too low, almost inaudible, and yet too even to be just rustling of leaves in the wind.

Dean nodded curtly. "There are two of them."

"Or one on four legs."

"Oh, please!"

"Why are you so skeptical about it?" She hissed.

"Because… oh, never mind, okay?" Because Halloween was like a red cloth for all kinds of freaks intended to make the legends and worst blood-bath horror movies real. That was something that he, unfortunately, had seen not once already. Haunted houses that were not so haunted and rituals that were not really rituals at all and murders that took place only at certain time of the year because… because that was how it worked around Halloween. Like in maintenance of the spirit of the holiday. Too much effort to explain it all to Bela though. "You stay here and I'll go and check what the hell is going on out here."

"What?! No way!"

Dean took a deep breath before speaking again – or wringing her neck to save the trouble – cognizant of the need to stay unnoticed for as long as possible. His main theory was still spinning around a run-away schizophrenic who watched too much of "Halloween" movies. Unfortunately, ghosts weren't the only thing to worry about in this world.

"Listen, Bela, I said nothing when you decided to follow me like a lovesick cat—"

"You…" She gasped and chocked. Who the hell he thought he was, this arrogant…?

"—But when it comes to doing the job I don't want to think about covering your ass. Can you please stay out of trouble for two goddamned minutes? Just stay here and, for God's sake, turn off the bloody flashlight. That's all I'm asking for."

Bela huffed with frustration but before she came up with an answer, he disappeared in the darkness.

"Dean!" She called in a whisper a couple of seconds later. "Oh, crap!" Looked around. "That's just brilliant!"

Yet, she turned off the flashlight lest she be spotted by whoever was out there. The darkness became almost impenetrable, what with all these trees and no moon.

Bela made a couple of steps groping around until her fingers brushed against rough bark of the tree. On a sigh of relief she leaned against it and started counting in her mind to keep track of time. Silence was heavy and pressing and complete now. She bit her bottom lip nervously when five minutes passed and Dean didn't show up.

If it was a joke, she thought angrily forcing the worst fears out of her mind, I swear to God, Dean, it would be the last thing you did in your life.

Sudden noise somewhere to the right from her gave Bela a start. She whipped her head around but trying to see something there made as much sense as trying to see something in the black hole.

"Dean?" She called out quietly, realizing a tad belatedly that if she couldn't see much then he probably couldn't see anything either and perhaps it made sense to give him a clue of her whereabouts. Please, let it be you. "It's not funny!" Say something, damn it!

But he didn't say anything. Moreover, it definitely wasn't Dean. Something big and black was moving in on her, so dark that it was oddly distinguishable even among the trees making them look grayish.

Bela swallowed uneasily as she listened to the footsteps – four legs, no doubt about that – approaching her. Her heart was pounding against her ribs, her back pressed against the trunk of the tree in a vain attempt to become one with it. Now she could also hear light snoring, too, between deep steady breaths.

But it wasn't until she saw two red gleaming dots floating five feet above the earth almost within arm's reach from her that Bela realized what exactly was going on.

The Headless Horseman wasn't just a legend after all.

She took a small step to the right wondering what her chances to meet another day were. Obviously, she would never outrun the horse. But then, maybe she wouldn't have to. Maybe she'd just die in a couple of seconds. Sure thing, it would save her a trouble of worrying about the ways to escape.

Bela looked around helplessly and almost missed the moment when the horse made a small step towards her, too, and then huffed impatiently as though urging her to flee. Like it thought that attacking someone who wasn't even running away was dishonest. Or maybe it was against the rules. Yet, Bela kept backing away slowly and the horse kept moving forward after her.

"Damn you, Dean," she breathed out getting ready to saying mental goodbyes but when she took one more step back she suddenly felt the ground slipping away from under her feet, literary speaking. Bela didn't even get surprised or scared when it happened. She only threw her arms instinctively into the air trying to keep her balance but it didn't work and the next thing she knew was that she was rolling down the steep slope. And then she felt sharp pain in her head, and everything turned black.

To be continued…

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