Disclaimer: "Supernatural" is not mine. It belongs to the nice people over at the WB. I am not making any money off of it. Some of the places in this story are real places, such as the college, the dorm, and the general haunting. The storyline is mine, though (the legend didn't really supply info on that part of the haunting).
This story isn't a sequal to "Turnabout"per se, but I continue on with the story. You don't have to have read "Turnabout" to get most of the story, but there will be mentions about things that happened in "Turnabout." On with the show:
Here is my first chapter. I hope that you enjoy it.
Looking over at the sleeping form of his brother, Dean hesitated. Sammy needed the rest; he was still recovering, still weakened. Although he had given Sam a choice on what they would do next, he really wanted to make him stay here for the week their father had mentioned. He went over to the table near the window, bringing the laptop with him. Using the light from a crack in the curtains with the vain hope of letting his baby brother sleep just a little while longer, Dean looked through countless obits, trying to find their next job. He wished that their dad would send a text message, maybe call them, and tell them what to do next...at least this time. Most of the weight of the hunt would fall on Dean's shoulders, and he wished that finding the job would at least be made easier.
He paused in his search, looking intently at Sam. While he had gotten much better, he was still weak. Lying in bed for over three months while something struggled to take his life had made him less than able to fight as hard as they may need him to if he was going to be working on a hunt. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he wished that Sam would have asked to settle down somewhere. He could be safe if they didn't go directly back to the hunt, if they allowed Sam to build back up his strength. Sure, he was walking, alone, but that didn't mean that the situation couldn't change at any time. The doctors had given him medications that would last six months, assuming that he would be vulnerable during that time, and he was wanting to overextend himself on the first full day out.
As he turned back to the job search, this time in the state of Georgia, Sam shifted his weight. Dean figured that his brother would be waking up soon, despite his best efforts to keep him asleep. Nervously, he put the tip of the pen he had been using to write down possibilities in his mouth and looked at the screen intently. There was a girl, about nineteen years old who had killed herself. He skimmed over it, simply because of her age and something didn't add up. She was an honor student at the Savannah College of Art and Design. Her life was going well; with a steady boyfriend and a promising career future in film. He looked for a news article that may have been about the suicide.
"College Student Jumps From Sixth Floor Dormitory"- the article sprang out at him in bold letters. Okay, so this city liked to be blunt. It had probably caught people's eye. He read the article, noticing the little things. She had been active in the Christian Student Fellowship and Savannah Filmmakers Collective, and she was pregnant. She didn't seem to ever be depressed, but that could just be people not wanting to remember her that way. They all said she was sweet and she wouldn't have done that to her family or friends. It even mentioned the room number that it occurred outside of.
He changed the focus of the search to the dormitory. A whole list of news stories came up, all about young college students jumping to their deaths. It seemed to be focused during two time periods with nothing in the middle. The first death that had occurred there was in 1981, after her boyfriend had left her while she was pregnant with his baby. After that, over a dozen deaths had occurred, each in the same area on the same floor. The suicides had stopped until just recently. Seven kids had killed themselves over the last semester, again all in the same area on the same floor. He dug deeper by going to the school's newspaper and looking for anything mundane that had changed since the last semester. There was a mention that the plexiglass that had covered most of the sixth floor had been taken out because it was deemed an eyesore. In it's place was a beautiful glass window that could easily be opened. He was now even more interested. This could have happened because of the plexiglass, but he knew they would need to do more than just put a plexiglass window in. They would need to salt and burn the bones, because anyone could put back in a glass window again. He just hoped that they got there in time to stop another person from taking their lives.
He looked down again and almost had a heart attack because Sam was looking at him, quiet as a mouse. His eyes spoke of fatigue, but he pushed himself into the sitting position. "Find anything yet, Dean?" He asked, his voice a little scratchy. Dean looked at him and hoped for a moment that it was lack of water that made his voice scratch.
"Yeah, it's in Georgia. Get your ass up and let's go." He told his baby brother in his usual tone, allowing Sammy to know that he did think he was better. He watched as Sam slowly got up, and walked to the bathroom.
Collecting his clothes, he got himself ready, dressing quickly seeing as he'd showered the night before. He put everything in the Impala, including Sam's bag, and called once more for his brother. They had a seventeen hour drive ahead of them, if they didn't stop.
Sam stepped out of the bathroom, still rubbing sleep from his eyes, and looked around for his bag. "Dean?"
"It's in the car. Let's go!" He instructed his little brother. It was already ten o'clock and they still needed to stop somewhere for breakfast so that Sammy could take his pills. Then, he would stop for lunch and dinner to make sure Sammy ate. At this rate, they wouldn't get there until tomorrow afternoon. He sighed and chased Sammy out, remembering to leave the key on the table.
Thank you for reading the first chapter. Please feel free to leave any kind of review, whether it be a compliment, constructive criticism, or a question. I will try my best to answer you.