⌜ chapter eight ⌟

The three hunters are currently at a rundown service station, and Dean had to walk away from the other two because he's trying to listen to a voicemail, and they've been arguing ever since they first stopped. Sam seems to have made it his mission to make her as irritable as possible, and Isla has no problem feeding into the bickering.

"If you don't schedule a stop where I can pick stuff up for Minx, I'm gonna have her use your t-shirts instead of a litter box." Isla glares up at Sam, who smirks as he keeps mapping out their route, pretending to ignore her. "You're not funny, Sasquatch."

"I'm amused." He argues with a slight shrug of his shoulder, and she then holds Minx up to his face as the kitten flails her arms. "Ow!"

"Ha!"

"Cut her talons."

"Cut yours!"

"What?" Sam shakes his head, laughing at her.

"I need her cat food, Samantha!" Isla yells at him, and he looks over at his brother.

"We need to stop before we get to Pennsylvania, or the short shit's gonna kill me in my sleep."

"I'm not short, you overgrown freak." The blonde mumbles as she walks away from him.

"Yeah." Dean starts toward the driver's side of the Impala, clearly not listening to the two and their current bickering. "Problem is, we're not going to Pennsylvania."

"Wait, what?" Sam questions as Isla looks at the older boy, letting Minx crawl into the hood of her sweater.

"I just got a call from, uh...an old friend." Dean says, looking down at his phone. "Her father was killed last night — she thinks it might be our kind of thing."

"What?" His eyebrows are furrowed as he looks over the car hood at his older brother.

"Yeah, believe me, she never would've called — never — if she didn't need us." He tells them.

"Where are we going?" Isla asks as she reaches up to tighten her blonde pony-tail.

"Missouri." He looks over at her. "The truck good on gas for now?"

"Yeah, I just filled up." She tells him, and he nods before ducking into the car. The blonde then points at Sam. "Make him stop for her food, or it'll be your head."

"Why are you attacking me?" The younger boy questions, and she shrugs.

"It's fun."

"Come on!" Dean yells at them.

They're driving down a long highway when Isla's phone starts ringing; she answers it and puts the call on speaker. "Ow, you little bitch. Get out of my hair." The blonde keeps one hand on the steering wheel as she pulls her ponytail away from Minx.

"Everything okay back there?" Dean asks, glancing in his rearview mirror at the old truck that's following behind his sleek, black Impala.

"She's chewing on the ends of my hair, and she keeps pulling the smallest pieces. It hurts like a— Ow, damn it! Get out of my hood."

"You realize you sound insane?"

"I say next stop — it's her second favorite human's turn to be chewed on while he drives." Isla says, glaring at the trunk of his car.

"Fine by me, I'm great with women." He chuckles, and she rolls her hazel eyes.

"Speaking of women—" Sam starts.

"Oh, jeez."

"What?" Isla's eyebrows furrow.

"What's Dad's rule number one?" Sam asks.

"Trust no one?"

"No."

"Actually, my rule number one when I was with you guys was don't shoot Dean." She tells him.

"Ha ha." The older boy mutters sarcastically, clearly unamused by her joke.

"We do what we do and we shut up about it." Sam then tells her what he's getting at, growing impatient because he has something that he called to vent to her about.

"In what context are we talking here?" Isla questions, clearly confused.

"This old friend of Dean's — she's a girl that he dated a few years ago, and he told her the family secret." He explains.

"See, that wasn't a rule of mine." She tells him, shaking her head. "Probably because I don't like people, and generally avoid them at all costs."

"Oh, so you're turning into a crazy cat lady?" Dean questions.

"Shut up." She grumbles as the kitten starts trying to pull her way out of Isla's hood. "Ow. Minx, my neck. Ow!"

"Pull over." The older boy tells her as the Impala starts to slow before pulling off to the side of the road. He parks in the dirt and then gets out of the car before walking back to the truck that parked behind him.

"I need to stop and get some of her wet food." Isla tells Dean after rolling down her window. "I'm all out of the cans, and I need to mix it with her formula."

"Yeah, uh... When's her next feeding?" He asks as he takes Minx from her; the kitten's doing a bunch of her tiny meows.

"Two hours."

He pauses, thinking it over. "That's about how long we have to get to Cape Girardeau. Can you go to the store there while we talk to Cassie? I really want to get there and see what's what." He asks.

"Yeah." She nods. "No problem."

—

"N— Dean!" Isla stomps her foot and groans in frustration when he walks away from her with Minx in his hand. He's laughing as the blonde looks at him through narrowed eyes.

"Man, I don't know what you're always bitching about." He says as he sits down and sets the little black cat in his lap. Minx starts climbing up his t-shirt to get to his face. "She's a sweetheart whenever I got her."

"Give me back my kitten."

"Yeah, let me think about tha— No." He shakes his head, and Sam chuckles as he watches them.

"You two are like the weirdest parents — always fighting over that poor cat." The younger boy says.

"Poor?" His brother questions. "She loves the attention. Who the hell said cats were antisocial?"

"Apparently the same people who said that you were allergic to them." Isla mutters as she walks over to the bed in her room, where he happened to leave his leather jacket when he and Sam walked in a few minutes earlier.

Dean's distracted by Minx, and therefore not paying any attention to Isla. The blonde then walks away from his stuff and heads outside, causing Sam to start laughing because he knows what she did. His older brother looks over at him confused, but soon after that, they hear the car horn outside. Apple green eyes dart to the door, and Dean passes Minx over to Sam before quickly heading for the door and going to try and get Isla out of the driver's seat of the Impala.

"No!" The blonde's yelling as Sam walks outside, leaving Minx in the room. "I'm driving!"

"The hell you are!" Dean's gotten the door open, but she positioned herself so that he can't push her to the passenger side of the bench.

"I'm a good driver, Dean."

"Move."

"Never!"

"You know what?" He reaches into the car and grabs her hips, opting to pull her out of the car instead of pushing her over in the seat. "Get out of my damn car!"

He hears a thud, followed by Isla's pain-filled protest as they both fall to the parking lot pavement, and then he lands on his ass. "You made me hit my head!" The blonde yells as she smacks his chest a couple times.

Sam's laughing as he watches the two of them; Isla's knees are on either side of Dean's right thigh, and she's glaring down at him. The older boy looks surprised, as well as a little guilty. He hadn't meant for her to get hurt, or for them to end up on the ground.

"I'm sorry." Dean says as he places his hand over hers, which is applying pressure to the top of her head. Her eyes are still narrowed as she pulls her hand out from under his, and he rubs her head. "Really, I am."

"Sorry enough to let me drive?" She quirks an eyebrow, and he sighs as he looks up at her. She smiles, and his expression softens before he reluctantly agrees, letting his hand fall from her head and back to his side.

"Are we gonna go now?" Sam asks as he starts for the car. "Or did you two wanna head back into the room to be alone for awhile first?"

Isla's eyebrows furrow as she looks over at him, and Dean clears his throat as he turns his gaze away from the blonde who's basically sitting in his lap. She only realizes how close they are after looking back at Dean, and then she quickly moves backward before getting to her feet.

At Cassie's house half an hour later, the three hunters are now sitting on the couch in the living room. Isla's between the two boys as Dean's ex-girlfriend walks back into the room carrying a tray with four cups of hot tea for them.

"My mother's in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her." Cassie tells them. "I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about Dad."

"Why?" Dean asks, watching her as she tells her story.

"He was scared — seeing things."

"Like what?"

"He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him." She says as she passes out the cups of tea to the hunters.

"A truck?" Sam echoes. "Who was the driver?"

"He didn't talk about a driver, just the truck." She tells them, shaking her head as she sits on another couch across from them. "He said it would appear and disappear. And in the accident, Dad's car was dented like it had been slammed into by something big."

"Now, you're sure this dent wasn't there before?" He asks as Isla stares down at her tea. She doesn't really like tea, never has, but she doesn't want to seem rude.

"He sold cars, always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing." She says as Dean takes the teacup from Isla and sets it beside his on the table by the end of the couch where he's sitting. She offers him a small smile as thanks, and he nods. "It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks from Dad's car leading right...to the edge where he went over." Cassie clears her throat to keep from crying, and Dean's expression saddens as he watches her. "One set of tracks — his."

"And the first person killed was a friend of your father's?" The older boy asks.

"Best friend — Clayton Solmes." She nods. "They owned a car dealership together. Same thing — dent, no tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about Dad — he lost control of his car."

"Can you think of any reason why your father and partner might be targets?"

She shakes her head. "No."

"And you think this vanishing truck ran him off the road?" Sam asks, and she looks away from them, obviously having a hard time with all of this.

"When you say it aloud like that..." She takes a deep breath. "Listen, I'm a little skeptical about this...ghost stuff or...whatever it is you guys are into." She says, and Isla quirks an eyebrow at her phrasing.

Dean scoffs. "Skeptical." He mutters. "If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."

She looks at him for a moment. "That was then." She says, and he nods.

"Mm."

"I just know that I can't explain what happened up there, so I called you." Cassie says, and then the front door opens, causing everyone to look over in that direction. "Mom. Where have you been?" She asks as she quickly gets to her feet.

"I had no idea you'd invited friends over." The older woman says as she looks at the three hunters, who are all standing now as well.

"Uh, Mom, this is Dean, a friend of mine from...college." She introduces them, and Dean looks down for a moment. "And his brother, Sam, and their friend, Isla."

"Well, I-I, uh... I-I won't interrupt you." She turns to walk away from them, but stops when Dean gets her attention.

"Mrs. Robinson, we're sorry for your loss." He tells her. "We'd like to talk to you for a minute, if you don't mind."

She looks taken aback by the request. "I'm really not up to that just now." She says, and then walks off.

The next morning, Sam and Dean went to check out the scene of yet another accident that happened that night on the same exact stretch of road as the other two. Now they're both getting dressed in suits because they're gonna pretend to be insurance investigators to get some information around town.

Isla stayed at the motel with Minx, and now she's in the boys' room as they get ready to go. The blonde's laying on Dean's bed as he looks in the mirror a few feet away, trying to tie his tie properly. Sam's putting on his jacket as he then makes his way over to the mirror near Dean's.

"I'll say this for her — she's fearless." The younger boy says, talking about Cassie.

"Mhm." His brother agrees.

"Bet she kicked your ass a couple times." He continues, and Dean turns to look at him. He's obviously annoyed with Sam's commentary. "What's interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the same time. You look at her when she's not looking. She checks you out when you look away." He says, and Dean gives him another irritated look. "It's just a— Just an interesting observation in a, you know, observationally interesting way."

"You think we might have some more pressing issues here?" Dean questions.

"Hey, if I'm hitting a nerve—"

"Oh, let's go." The older boy turns for the door, and Sam laughs as he looks over at him.

His attention then turns to blonde. "You okay?" He asks as he looks over at Isla, who's currently getting up from Dean's bed. "You haven't said much all morning."

"I'm just tired." The blonde says as she looks at the younger boy. "Minx has a lot of energy, and she was running amok last night while I was trying to sleep." She tells him, and he nods.

Sam's not sure he actually believes that that's the only thing bothering her, but he doesn't have time to question it further. Not that she seems like she'd be willing to talk about it even if he did. So, he lets it go and follows after his older brother.