Pilot.

CHAPTER TWO , ETERNALLY GRATEFUL

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Dean had just finished his shower.

Willow passed him without a second glance and slammed the door shut behind her. Dean huffs, "Women, am I right?"

Sam deadpans, "You were in there for 40 minutes."

"Hey. This doesn't happen in 20 minutes." Dean moves his hands up and down his body. He then flops on one of the beds.

"After Will gets out, I'm gonna get something to eat." Dean voices. Sam raises his brows, his eyes on his phone. "Okay..."

"Do...do you think that she would want to come?" Dean looks down at his fingernails, nervously. Sam chuckles out of disbelief. "You know, I don't know what you see in her."

"What do you mean?" Dean asks, blankly looking at his brother.

"Dean, she's a drunk. Not only that, but she's selfish." Sam voices, even though his voice was soft the anger was evident. "She wouldn't have helped us find Dad if we didn't have that money."

"Sam...she wasn't like this before." Dean shrugs. "Besides, we're hunters. We've all been through shit that changes us."

Sam shakes his head, "I get that. But to trust her with your life..." he exhales. "We have to watch out for her."

"Oh, yeah, of course." Dean laughs. "I thought that went without saying."

Sam begins to laugh with him. The bathroom door flies open, both brothers whip their heads over to the girl. Since her hair was wet, her honey-brown hair was now a dark chestnut. It dropped onto the ground. She was wrapped in a towel. "Where's my duffel?"

Dean swallows, his eyes shift down to her wet legs. Her legs always drove him crazy. His jeans tighten and he shifts in order to hide his forming erection. "Uh, it's...right, You know, there." He points to the other bed.

Willow huffs, "Thanks." She walks over to the other bed and opens her duffel. Sam nudges his arm into Dean. The older Winchester looks at Sam, who nudges his head towards Willow. Telling him to 'go for it'.

Dean swallows, a bundle of nerves forming in his stomach. He never got nervous when it came to girls. But Willow was a completely different ball game. She always has been.

"Uh..." Dean clears his throat. "Hey, Will?"

She lets out a low grumble as she drops the towel. Sam and Dean avert their eyes.

"We have a bathroom," Sam states. "You just came out of it."

"Oh, please. Aren't you dating someone? And Dean's seen this before." Willow scoffs. "You Winchesters, always think so highly of yourselves."

Willow clips her bra on. She then lets out an exhausted breath. "What were you trying to say, Dean?"

"Oh, you know. I was just wondering if you wanted to—only if you wanted to...go get some food with me? We're all pretty hungry and could use a food run."

Willow slips her ripped black Levi's on and frowns. "Well, I could use some chicken tenders and whiskey." She then shrugs. "I'm in."

"Really?" Dean looks at her, only to be greeted by Willow in her jeans and black lace bralette. He snaps his eyes away from her and has to bite his tongue in order to keep his groans to himself. "Good, I'll just...be outside waiting."

"Okay, I'll be finished soon." Willow slips a gray tank top on with her black leather jacket over it. After she slips her combat boots on, she grabs her wallet and walks over to the door. Willow stops and looks at Sam. "Did you want something or can I hope that you'll starve?"

Sam rolls his head to the side, staring at her. "Funny."

Willow bows, "I try."

"I'll just take a chicken Cobb salad. Thanks."

Willow then quirks a brow with a small breath escaping her lips. "Of course, you would..." She walks out of the room and closes the door behind her. She stands beside Dean, noticing his eyes on the two cops talking to the motel owner. Dean quickly dials a familiar number. Willow sighs, "So, am I not getting my chicken tenders? Or my whiskey?"

"Dude, Five-0, take off," Dean speaks into the phone.

Willow holds up a hand and waves at the approaching officers as Dean continues to speak to his brother. She places her hands on her hips. "Problem, pigs?"

Dean nudges her side and Willow grunts. "Officers?" She corrects.

"Where's the third?"

Willow snorts, "Third? What is this a poly?"

"Stop talking." Dean murmurs.

The officer looks at his partner and motions to the room Willow and Dean just came out of. The deputy walks over to the motel room.

"So fake U.S. Marshall, fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?" The officer looks at Willow. "Besides the alcoholism?"

Willow lets out a sharp breath, pretending to think hard. "Well, I mean, my boobs." She touches both her breasts through her top. "These are very real." She then nudges Dean. "This guy knows, huh?"

Dean's face grows hot. "God, please stop." He then laughs.

Not a second later, the two hunters were slapped with handcuffs and thrown into the back of a squad car.

☆

"So, what's your name?"

Willow keeps her eyes on the ceiling. "Uh...Natasha Romanoff."

"How about your real name?"

Willow looks at the deputy. "What, I can't have the same name as Black Widow?"

The deputy squints his eyes. Willow sighs, "Listen, I'm not a U.S. Marshall. I told you that. I'm a P.I."

"And what is a P.I. Doing with U.S. Marshall's?" The deputy asks.

Willow bunches her shoulders. "What can I tell ya? They couldn't get the job done. So, they called me." She motions to herself. "I'm kind of a big deal."

"I never heard of you."

Willow's smug smirk drops. "I'm a big deal in the areas I come from."

"If you're gonna keep lying, then make yourself comfortable." The deputy sighs.

"You know what? I will..." she leans back in her seat, her handcuffs digging into her wrists. "How 'bout you ask Mr. Nugent some questions and I will be right here..." Her eyes fall shut and she lets out a content breath.

The deputy lets out a scoff and leaves the room. As soon as the door closes behind him, Willow opens one eye. She opens her other eye and inspects her handcuffs. Her head rolls to the side from how heavy it felt. She lets out a small bit of laughter, before lifting a hand and digging through her honey-brown hair. "Please don't be a razor, please don't be a razor..."

Her fingers grasp onto the metal item and she pulls the Bobby pin from her hair. A breath of relief leaves her lips.

Willow either had razors or Bobby pins in her hair. She could never remember which she put in her hair, so it was like a game of Russian roulette.

And today, Will got Bobby pins.

Willow digs the Bobby pin into the keyhole. The handcuff around her right wrist pops open and she chuckles. She pops open the left handcuff and stands up.

"Idiots forgot to shackle me to the table." Willow then chuckles. "I would've been in huge trouble then..."

Willow peaks her head out the door. She looks up and down the hall of the police station. Willow trots down the hall, humming. She goes to open the door to the lobby of the station, but someone grabs her forearm and pulls her towards their figure. A hand flies over her mouth before she can protest. Willow's breathing heavies, but she quickly catches the familiar scent of whiskey and leather.

God, that smell always drove her crazy.

As soon as the police turned off all the lights and exited the station, Dean released her. Willow shoves herself off of Dean and turns to him. "No warning?"

Dean sighs, "You're welcome." He straightens his jacket.

Will tilts her head, "That jacket is so fucking big on you." She chuckles. "Is that even yours?"

"Y-Yeah, it is."

Willow rolls her eyes, seeing right through it. "It's your dad's, isn't it?"

Dean slightly opens his mouth. "N-No."

Willow doesn't respond after that. She just laughs, pats his shoulder, and walks through the door.

...

The car slows to a stop in front of Constance's old house. Sam's eyes shift to the rearview mirror and meets the ghost's eyes. "Don't do this..."

"I can never go home."

Sam pulls his brows together and looks at the creaky house in front of him. "You're scared to go home." He turns to the ghost in the back seat, but she was gone. Sam looks around, and suddenly sees the spirit sitting next to him.

Constance forces the seat back. She then straddles Sam's lap. "Hold me. I'm so cold."

"You can't kill me," Sam says through his teeth. "I'm not unfaithful. I've never been."

Constance leans closer to Sam's face. "You will be." She presses her lips Sam's. His eyes open and he reaches forward for the keys. Constance pulls back away from him and disappears.

Suddenly, what feels like a hand forcing its way through his chest; Sam screams. He lifts his head and sees Constance's image flicker, her hand in his chest.

A gunshot rings through the area. Bullets hit the window, shattering it. The bullets hit the spirit, forcing it to disappear. Willow chuckles, raising her silverback Beretta in her hand.

"I just saved your ass, Samantha." Willow holds the gun up. "You shall now be eternally grateful." She then holds a pointer finger up. "And I expect an invitation to the wedding."

Sam lets out a chuckle of relief. "Yeah, deal."

He then sits up, and starts the car. Willow raises her brows as Sam whispers something under his breath before speeding the Impala towards the house.

"Sam!" Dean calls out.

Willow's jaw drops as the Impala comes into contact with the house. Dean sprints toward the house. Willow lets out a heavy breath. She tucks her gun back into the back of her waistband, she then walks towards the house.

"Will, help me get this door open!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Willow huffs. She makes her way over to the car and helps force the car door open. Once the door is open, Dean pulls Sam out of the car. Willow turns and stops when she sees the lady in white staring at a picture of herself and her kids.

"Shiiit..."

Sam and Dean look at who Willow was referring to and their hearts drop. Constance tosses the picture to the ground and takes a step aside. The wide white dresser slams into the three hunters. Pinning them between the car.

"Oh, you fucking Winchesters..." Willow wheezes from the dresser pressing into her abdomen. "Dragging me into this bullshit—I'm gonna be sick."

The lights begin to flicker. Water spills from the top of the steps. Constance looks up the staircase and sees her kids at the top.

"You've come home to us, Mommy."

A chill runs down Willow's spine. "Ghost kids freak me out, man..."

Sam shushes her and she groans.

The kids appear behind Constance. She turns to them, only to be greeted with the 'hug of death'. Constance screams in agony. All three spirits melt into the ground, only leaving a puddle of water.

Willow exhales a sharp breath, the pressure against her abdomen gone. "Uh, hello? Are you guys just gonna stand there like fucking idiots or are you gonna help me get this thing off—"

Sam and Dean push the dresser, freeing all of them. Will sighs, "Thank you."

The three hunters walk towards the puddle of water. "So, this is where she drowned her kids."

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

Willow quirks a brow and scoffs. "Well, lesson learned, right?"

"And that is?" Sam raises his brows.

Willow frowns, "I dunno, don't take your eyes off your kids while they're bathing or whatever...I need whiskey."

Sam tilts his head and lets out a breath. "Right, yeah. Let's get that alcohol in you, huh? Might make you a little more tolerable."

Willow nods, "I am more tolerable when I've got some alcohol in my veins...preferably—"

"Whiskey." Sam and Dean chorus.

And for the first time since the brothers have spoken simultaneously, Willow smiles.

☆

Willow's chin was against the shoulder on Sam's seat as he shined the light on the map. She points her finger at the certain location in the map. "This is where John went. Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

Dean raises his brows, "Sounds charming. How far?"

"About 600 miles." Sam answers.

"If we shag ass, we can make it by morning," Dean says.

Sam shifts in his seat, but he stays silent. Will notices his willingness to stay silent and she pulls her brows together. "He's got his interview, dude." She voices. "Even I remember that. And I was drunk when he talked about it...over and over and over and—"

"Okay, I get it. Thanks, Willow." Sam says.

Dean looks back at the road, and a small chuckle leaves his lips. "Yeah...yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

Willow frowns, "I can't believe you're leaving me with Dean." She then sputters her lips.

"Well, at least, you'll have your best friend, Whiskey, with you." Sam quips.

Willow leans back in her seat and laughs. "That's funny. Like that was actually funny. Who knew Samantha had it in him, huh?"

There was an unspoken tense silence between the two brothers, but Willow didn't care. She just wanted someone to laugh with her. But of course that wasn't going to happen. So, she lets out a defeated breath and leans back in her seat.

Once they got back to Stanford, Sam got out of the Impala. Sam looks into the window, looking at his brother. "You'll call me if you find him?" He asks.

Dean nods his head.

"Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?" Sam raises his brows.

Dean presses his lips together, "Yeah, all right."

Sam looks at Willow, "Thanks for saving my ass today."

Willow raises her whiskey bottle and winks. "Hey, man, I wouldn't have heard the end of it, from this guy if I hadn't." She motions her head to Dean.

Dean huffs and shakes his head. Sam chuckles softly, he taps the car and starts to walk away. Willow purses her lips, "You gonna say something to him or...?"

Dean sucks in a breath, "Sam."

Sam stops and turns back to the Impala.

"You know, we made a hell of a team back there," Dean states.

Sam smiles softly, "Yeah."

Willow crawls up to the front seat, interrupting the brotherly moment. "We got places to be." She points forward. "Drive."

Dean couldn't stop the smile that formed on his lips. He starts the car and speeds away from Stanford.

Willow takes a swig of her whiskey when she looks over at Dean. She didn't want to make conversation with him. She didn't even want to be left alone with him. But there was honestly nothing more she could do.

Willow holds the bottle out to him. Dean pulls his face back from the sudden smell of whiskey hitting his nose. "What are you doing?"

"I was offering you a swig." Willow shrugs.

"I'm driving."

Willow quirks a brow, "So, is that a no...?"

Dean sighs, "Yeah, that's a no, Willow."

Willow slightly opens her mouth. "Oh. Willow? Someone's mad..."

"More so annoyed."

"With me?" Willow smiles.

"No."

Willow's smile drops, "Oh."

"I'm annoyed with myself," Dean says. "I didn't say much to my brother."

"I know." Willow sips her whiskey.

"I should've."

Willow nods, "I know..." she sings. "Well, like Sam said, maybe he'll join you again." She then frowns. "But then again, he's gonna be a lawyer. He's gonna be Mister Big Shot. Then he's gonna marry Jess and you...will still be chasing after your father."

Dean white knuckles the steering wheel. Willow smirks, knowing she was getting to him. She takes another sip of her whiskey.

Almost like karma, Dean jerks the steering wheel, turning the car around; spilling Willow's whiskey on her tank top and jacket. She looks down at her ruined tank top. "Fuck, man!" Willow turns to him.

"Sorry."

"What are you doing?" Willow snaps. "Colorado's the other way—"

"I need to say something else to Sam, all right?" Dean holds a hand up. "I need to tell him that I should've kept in touch—"

"Phones work both ways," Willow states.

"You're a little instigator." Dean points at her.

Willow smirks, "Thanks."

Dean pushes the gas pedal more, speeding down the road back towards Stanford.

As soon as they got closer to the building, Willow saw the smoke coming from one of the windows. "Dean...which window is Sam and Jess'?"

Dean's heart drops when he sees smoke coming from Sam's window. "No, no, no..." he quickly parks the car and scrambles out. Willow gets out of the car and drops the bottle. She runs with Dean into the building. Dean kicks open the door and is greeted with flames.

"Where's their room?!" Willow shouts.

Dean guides Willow through the house. He gets to Sam's room and hears screaming. Dean grabs Sam, who thrashes; refusing to leave his girlfriend behind.

"No, Jess!—Jessica!"

Dean pulls Sam out of the room, Willow looks into the room and her blood runs cold from seeing Jessica on the ceiling. With the short amount of time she had, her eyes shifted around the room, snapping mental pictures and inspecting each detail.

Willow runs out of the building, meeting the brothers outside. Dean turns to her, "And where the hell were you?"

"What the fuck was that back there?" Willow asks.

Dean looks at Sam, who is sitting on the curb; his eyes glued to the ground. Willow's jaw clenches and she slams her mouth shut. She snaps her eyes back over to Dean, his eyes already on her. Willow motions her head to the side and walks away. Dean follows after her. Willow turns to him, "Was that the thing? Your thing?"

When they were best friends and had an unbreakable bond. They would hunt together. These two had something so special that they were comfortable enough to share everything to each other.

And Dean had told Willow about the night his mom was killed. Willow always thought that they would've killed the damn thing by now.

But judging from what happened. They weren't even close to killing it.

"Yeah." Dean exhales. "I don't know what else could've done this. But..."

"Why now?" Willow finishes his question. "And why did he target Sam..." her eyes trail behind Dean and land back on Sam. "You should get back over to him. He needs you."

Dean nods his head and walks back over to Sam. Willow watches as Dean sits on the curb beside Sam. He places an arm over Sam's shoulders and pulls him into a side hug. Willow bites the inside of her cheek and looks at the smoking building again.

Now, a normal person—a kind person with some sort of empathy would've walked over to Sam and checked on how he was doing. But that was not the kind of person, Willow was.

She just shook her head, knowing that everything had become a lot more complicated in order for her to get her money.

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