Fic: This River's Full of Lost Sharks 2/2

[summergen-mod.livejournal.com]

Veronica stared at them both across the countertop of the diner the next morning. “You’re saying Cassidy’s a zombie,” she said, flatly.

“Could be,” said Dean. “Or a ghost. But he’s a something, that’s for damn sure.”

“And you’re positive?”

“Logan saw him last night,” said Sam, “or at least, someone that he said looked exactly like him. That, plus his was one of the graves that were desecrated – it seems too much of a coincidence. We’re going to check his grave tonight, just to make sure.”

She buried her head in her hands, and mumbled something.

“What’s that?” asked Dean.

She surfaced, her blonde braids askew. “I said, does Logan know?”

“Not really,” said Sam. “He thought he’d just drunk too much.”

“Veronica,” said Dean, leaning in. “Is there anyone that would want to bring Cassidy back?”

She shook her head. “He was a bit of a loner,” she said, “He didn’t have too many friends. He was dating my friend Mac– but trust me, there is no way she’d want to see him ever again.”

“The police report said Cassidy had an older brother,” pressed Sam.

Veronica smiled half-heartedly. “Ah, yes, the irrepressible Dick Casablancas. Last I heard, he was living it large overseas. I don’t know where exactly – Logan would probably know for sure. They were best friends.”

“So you can’t think of anyone who’d want to,” Dean scratched his chin, “bring him back into the land of the living?”

“Plenty of people,” said Veronica, “just so they could kill him again. This town was really torn apart by the bus crash.”

“About that,” said Sam. “Do you have any idea why he’d do something like that?”

Veronica looked down at her hands. “How much time do you have?” she said. “’Cause it took me months to figure out he was the one behind it. It’s a long story - turns out he was trying to silence a few kids on that bus who were about to make some pretty strong allegations about Woody Goodman, the local Mayor.”

“That’s a whole new level of patriotism,” said Dean. “So Cassidy liked this Goodman guy, huh?”

Veronica shook her head. “Hardly. The kids were going to testify that Woody had molested them when he’d been the coach of their softball team. Beav- I mean, Cassidy – he was one of the other victims.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah, well,” said Veronica. “Cassidy had the last laugh – just before he died he blew up Mayor Goodman’s helicopter.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Seriously?” he said.

Veronica shuddered. “Yeah,” she said. “I saw it myself.

“Logan was there too, wasn’t he?” said Sam. “He said he saw Cassidy die.”

Veronica stared at him. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “We both did.”

*

As they were making their way out of the diner, Veronica paused.

“Would you mind if we stop by the florist first?” she asked. “I want to get some flowers for Lilly’s grave, for when we go back tonight.”

“No problem,” said Sam, “we’ll just wait out here.”

“Thanks,” Veronica said. “I won’t be long.”

True to her word, a few minutes later Veronica reappeared, carrying an armful of tulips so enormous that she nearly knocked over the blonde woman about to enter the store.

“Excuse you,” came a snooty voice.

“Sorry,” said Veronica, peering around her bouquet – and then - “Madison?”

Madison wrinkled her nose. “Veronica Mars,” she said. She sounded as if she had tasted something very vile.

“Funny, I never pictured you as a flower person,” Veronica mused. “Poison ivy, sure, but flowers?’

Madison jutted out her hip. “For your information, Veronica, I’m finalizing the flower arrangements for my wedding next week.”

“Who’s the lucky groom?” asked Veronica.

“Logan,” said Madison – and then burst into a peal of laughter at the expression on Veronica’s face. “Couldn’t resist. Not that it’s any of your business – but Chip Diller, actually.”

“Oh, and how is Chip?” asked Veronica. “Still partying like it’s 1999?”

“For your information, Chip’s doing very well for himself,” Madison said. “He’s just started his own car dealership.”

Veronica nodded slowly. “Mrs. Chip Diller, huh? I can honestly say that you two will be perfect for one another.”

Madison glared. “I’ll choose to take that as a compliment,” she said archly.

“You’d be wrong,” said Veronica, saccharine sweet.

“Remind me: did you leave this town voluntarily or did they run you out with torches and pitchforks?” asked Dean curiously as they walked back to the Impala.

Veronica shrugged. “A little from column A and a little from column B,” she quipped, unsmiling. “C’mon,” she said, “let me introduce you to a few people in this town that don’t completely suck.”

*

When he saw Mac, Dean stopped dead in his tracks.

“Wait,” he said. “That’s your computer geek?”

“Yeah,” said Veronica. “She’s the real deal – high school computer genius, and now she’s got Google breathing down her neck for her algorithms. Don’t let the pink hair throw you off – Mac knows her stuff.”

Dean chuckled. “I’ve learnt to look past the hair. You shoulda seen our last computer geek. Guy had the worst mullet I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh yeah,” said Veronica, interested. “Why can’t he help you out this time?”

Dean’s expression darkened. “He’s dead,” he said, shortly.

“Really dead, or dead like you?” pressed Veronica.

Dean’s mouth pursed into a thin line. “Sweetheart, nobody’s dead like me,” he said. He didn’t have to look at Sam to know he was frowning.

*

They had to wait until after dark before they could go back to the graveyard – but as soon as the blanketing darkness arrived they made their way there.

Sam gave a low whistle as he surveyed the damage. “Someone was really trying to cover their tracks, huh.”

“The best defense is a good offence,” said Dean.

“Yeah, well, this is pretty offensive,” said Veronica. She lay the flowers down at Lilly’s grave, and stood back – then went and fussed with them some more. It seemed such a girly thing to do, and Dean almost commented, but then he thought of the lost way that Veronica had stared at Lilly’s grave last night, and he didn’t say anything.

“They look nice,” said Sam – and trust Sam to chat about flowers.

“Good,” said Veronica. “I usually stick with tulips. Lilies seem too cliché, and roses…”

“Are lame,” Sam finished, with a twist to his smile Dean couldn’t fathom.

Dean turned away, picked up a shovel. He walked over to Cassidy’s grave and started digging. Veronica followed, looking pale – or maybe it was just the moonlight.

“Dirt’s been turned up pretty recently,” Sam noted.

Dean nodded in response; kept digging. Veronica watched in silence, hugging her arms close to her chest.

“Got it,” Dean grunted, as the shovel struck wood.

“Here,” said Sam, jumping down beside him in the grave, “let me.”

“Well, that’s not what I was expecting,” said Veronica, as Sam pried open the lid of the coffin.

“Empty,” Dean pronounced grimly.

“Uh,” said Sam, holding up a small cloth bag. “Not quite.”

“I frickin’ hate witches,” Dean growled, throwing down his shovel.

*

As soon as they’d got back to the Camelot Motel Dean headed to the bathroom to wash off the grave-dirt.

When Dean emerged from the shower ten minutes later, Veronica was sitting cross-legged on the bed, watching Sam. “Okay,” said Sam, staring at the contents of the cloth bag scattered out across the bedspread. “I think I’ve identified all of them. I gotta say, some of these are pretty rare.”

“Neptune doesn’t really seem like the kind of place that would have a Necromancy-Herbs-R-Us,” said Dean. “I mean, New Orleans it is not.”

“No,” said Sam, “which means there’s a chance the person may have ordered them online.”

“So we’re looking for the Wicked Witch of Craig’s List?” said Veronica.

“Hopefully,” said Sam. “The other option is that they could have homegrown them, or bought them in another town, but…”

“But that would be much harder to track,” finished Veronica, looking thoughtful.

“Yeah, well, this could be hard to track too,” said Dean.

“Don’t worry,” said Veronica breezily. “We’ll just follow the Megabyte Road.”

*

As they walked into Mac’s well-lit loft apartment, Veronica stopped so suddenly Sam nearly ran into her. Then he realised what must have caught her attention, because there was Logan Echolls, casually leaning on Mac’s desk. Mac was doubled over laughing at something he’d just said. There were takeout containers strewn across the table.

Mac looked up. “Veronica!” she exclaimed. “What brings you back so soon?”

Veronica hesitated, and Logan gave a tight smile. “Guilty until proven innocent,” he said. “I almost forgot how your mind works.” He rose to his feet smoothly. “I was just leaving,” he said. “See you later, Mac,” and he kissed her lightly on the cheek.

He didn’t look at Veronica as he walked out.

“Well,” said Mac. “I’m glad that wasn’t the slightest bit awkward. What can I do for you, anyway?”

“We need you to access some records for us,” said Dean, easy smile firmly in place.

“Sure thing,” said Mac. “What for?”

“Just a case we’re working on,” said Veronica.

“Even Q had a better idea of what Bond was up to,” complained Mac.

“Trust me,” said Veronica, “you really don’t want to know.”

“I do trust you,” said Mac, flashing her a smile. “Besides, plausible deniability - who am I to argue with that? So, what do you need?”

Sam consulted his notebook. “Ah,” he said, “the billing records of anyone in Neptune who purchased a supply of yew leaves, wormwood, juniper berries and dittany in the last few weeks. Oh, and oil of Cypress.”

“What is this,” asked Mac, “some kind of gross-out science project?”

Dean grimaced. “Something like that.”

Mac started typing in some commands. “Okay,” she said, “it’ll take awhile for the computer to sift through everything but I should have something for you soon.”

“That’d be great,” Sam said.

Veronica picked up an over-sized Magic Eight-Ball on Mac’s desk. She shook it, frowned, then shook it again. “You and Logan seem pretty close,” she observed, in what Dean assumed was meant to be a casual tone.

It wasn’t.

Mac rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that,” she said. “I’ve been helping him with a few business projects he’s been working on.”

“Logan, working?” said Veronica, pretending to weigh up the two options. “Those two concepts don’t really seem to go together.”

“People change, Veronica,” said Mac. “You can’t expect to find us exactly where you left us.”

Veronica looked down, shook her head.

“I wasn’t trying to leave anyone,” she said, and her voice was soft.

“Maybe not,” said Mac, “but you did.”

*

“Explain to me again why we’re doing this?” said Veronica, as they stood on the rooftop of the Neptune Grand.

“We can’t rule anything out,” Sam said. “We know roughly what sort of ritual was used to bring Cassidy back, but we don’t know much about it. It could be tied to the place he died. Maybe there’s a clue here.”

“We just want to get a feel for it,” Dean said, running his hand over the security railing. “I’m guessing this was installed post swan-dive?” He peered over the edge and whistled. “That’s a long way to fall.”

Veronica wrapped her arms tighter around herself as she nodded.

Sam resumed pacing the rooftop. “This is a waste of time, Dean,” he said, “I really don’t think there’s anything here.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” said Dean. They started walking back towards the door that led to the stair-case.

Veronica’s cell phone rang, and she half-turned away to answer it. “Hello,” she said, cupping her hand around her ear – then - “Where are you? Calm down, we’ll be right there.”

She turned to Dean and Sam. “Mac just saw Beaver.”

*

When they got to Mac’s apartment, the front door was wide open, swinging on its hinges. Veronica charged straight in before Dean could stop her.

Veronica rapped on the bedroom door, twisted the handle. Locked. “Mac,” she said, “it’s me.”

She turned to Dean, bit her lip. “I can’t hear anything.”

“Here,” said Dean, shouldering her aside and he kicked and the door burst open. Mac was crumpled in the corner, curled up in the narrow space between the bed and the wall.

Veronica rushed over and threw her arms around her;

Mac's eyes were red-rimmed. “It’s like it’s happening all over again,” she said. Veronica smoothed her hair. “I saw him, Veronica.”

“I know,” Veronica soothed. “I know.”

Mac looked up at her. “You know? Shouldn’t you be telling me I’m just imagining this?” she said, “rather than kicking my door down? Why are you taking this whole dead-man-walking thing so calmly?”

Veronica sighed. “I don’t know how to explain.”

“Just tell me what’s going on,” said Mac.

“Zombie,” said Dean.

“What? ” asked Mac, staring.

Sam glared at Dean. “You couldn’t have broken it any more gently?” he hissed.

Dean shrugged. “She wanted to know what was going on. Besides, how would you have explained it?”

“Not like that,” Sam sputtered.

Mac looked between them. “You’re both crazy,” she said. “Veronica, why aren’t you saying anything?”

Veronica bit her lip. “They’re telling the truth, Mac. Someone’s bought Cassidy back to life.”

Mac took a deep breath. “Well,” she said, “isn’t it nice that we can all be crazy together. So you’ve seen him too?”

“No,” said Veronica, “not me. Logan has, but he thought it was just imagining it. Dean and Sam heard something was going on in Neptune and came to figure it out. That’s actually the case I was getting your help on – the one I couldn’t tell you about.”

“You knew about all of this and you didn’t tell me?” said Mac.

Veronica looked at her levelly. “Would you have wanted me too?”

Mac shook her head. “No,” she said, “you’re right. Thanks.” She rubbed her eyes. “Speaking of the case, I did get one hit on that search I was running.”

“Yeah?” Dean said. “Who was it?”

Mac shot a quick look at Veronica. “Madison Sinclair.”

“Madison? ” said Dean. “As in, hot blonde Madison?”

“Madison brought Cassidy back to life?” said Veronica, “but that doesn’t make any sense! Why would she do that?”

Mac coughed. “I could probably guess,” she said. “Maybe.”

“Yeah?” said Dean, half-turning.

“Would it be too melodramatic if I suggested it was to get back at me?” said Mac. There was complete silence. Mac shrugged. “Yeah, it sounded melodramatic in my head too.”

“No,” said Sam, “it depends. What have you done to piss Madison off?”

“Well, there is that whole thing about us being swapped at birth,” said Mac.

Dean’s eyes bugged out. “Seriously? ” he said. “That actually happens? I thought that was just an urban myth.”

“You deal with urban legends every day, yet that surprises you,” said Veronica dryly.

“Mac,” said Sam, “Can you tell us more about what happened tonight? You said you saw him - what did he do?”

“I opened the door, and he was just – there,” said Mac. “I screamed, like the dumb girl in every teenage horror flick ever and then ran upstairs.”

Dean frowned. “So you left the front door open?” he said.

Mac looked down. “It was stupid, I know,” she said. “I just wanted to get out of there – I ran up to my bedroom and locked the door.” She turned to Veronica. “That was when I called you.”

Sam was looking thoughtful. “What did Cassidy do next?” he said.

Mac shivered. “Don’t call him that,” she said. “That wasn’t Cassidy. Cassidy’s dead.”

“Sorry,” Sam amended hastily. “I mean – what did it do next?”

Mac stared at him. “I don’t know,” she said.

“He didn’t follow you?” said Dean.

Mac shook her head firmly. “No,” she said. “I mean, yeah, he did, I could hear him on the stairs. He was right outside my door for ages, I could hear him – and then he left right before you guys got here.”

“He didn’t try to break your door down, didn’t try to force his way in?” said Dean, locking eyes with Sam and quirking an eyebrow.

“No,” said Mac, “nothing like that. He just – he knocked.” And then she burst into tears.

“Hey,” said Sam, patting her shoulder. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

*

Dean pulled Veronica aside. “Veronica,” he said, “who do you think Cassidy would blame for his death?”

“He jumped,” said Veronica. “I didn’t – I didn’t kill him.”

Dean swung around, startled. “Hey,” he said awkwardly, “I know that. I just meant – well, the undead aren’t really about distinctions like that, you know? If he blames you, it doesn’t matter if you didn’t pull the trigger.”

Veronica swiped her eyes. “I nearly did,” she said in a soft voice. “Pull the trigger, that is. I would have, too, if it wasn’t for Logan.”

Dean looked at her. “Good thing Logan was there, huh.”

“Yeah,” Veronica said. “But Cassidy - he probably would blame me anyway. If I hadn’t kept digging, he would have gotten away with the bus crash, with everything.”

Dean rubbed his hand across his chin. “Reason I ask is most zombies generally have one thing on their mind,” he said. “Revenge.”

“That’s not at all ominous,” said Veronica. “So: what do we do now?”

“Find Cassidy,” said Dean grimly. “Or Madison. Whichever comes first.”

Veronica jutted out her chin. “Right,” she said, walking back over to Mac and Sam. Veronica looked at Mac. “Will you be okay here?” she asked.

Mac shook her head. “I’m coming with you,” she said.

“No,” said Veronica, gently. “You’re not. If he wanted to hurt you, he would have. We think he’s after me. You’re better off here, where it’s safe. Look, is there someone you can call?”

“Sam will stay with her,” Dean volunteered, and Sam looked at Dean for a moment and then nodded.

Mac still looked lost.

Veronica bit her lip, and then pulled out her own cell phone and hit speed-dial. Dean could hear a tinny recorded message. “The future depends on what we do in the present. Mahatma Ghandi.”

Veronica rolled her eyes. “It’s me,” she said. “Veronica. Listen, can you come to Mac’s apartment right away? We’ll explain when you get here.” She clicked the phone closed, and Dean followed her out the door.

*

Mac turned to Sam. “Where are they going?” she asked.

Sam tried to flash her a reassuring smile. “My guess?” he said. “Back to the graveyard.”

*

They hadn’t been in the graveyard for long when they saw a light bobbing and weaving in the distance. Veronica took off towards it. Dean cursed under his breath and followed. “Slow down,” he hissed.

“I’m not scared,” she said.

“Maybe you should be,” said Madison, as she stepped out of the shadows. The silver gun in her hands was pointed straight at Veronica, and Dean automatically raised his hands in surrender. “Whoa,” he said conciliatorily, “take it easy.”

Veronica took a different tactic. “Necromancy, Madison? Really?”

Madison sniffed. “We prefer the term ‘controlled reanimation,’ Veronica.”

“Let me guess,” said Veronica. “Black magic is the new black?”

“Something like that,” Madison conceded. Dean weighed up whether he should charge her – but the gun was still pointed straight at Veronica’s chest. Too risky.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Veronica. Good girl, thought Dean approvingly. Keep her talking, keep her distracted.

“My mom died a few months ago. Well, not my mom, turns out. Mrs. Sinclair.” She laughed, a little hysterically. “I don’t know what to call her anymore.”

“Oh,” said Veronica. “I didn’t realise. Mac never said anything.”

“Yeah, well,” said Madison, “Mac wouldn’t. She’s sneaky like that. The whole time I was in Europe last year, she was cozying up to my family. Cutting me out. Getting to know her birth mother, apparently. Who I had been dumb enough to believe was my actual mother. Stupid, right? Whatever. Anyway. I turned 21 last month, and with the wedding coming up, and Chip needing money for his company – well, I asked for access to my trust fund. So imagine my surprise when I found out that my mother had left most of her estate to her biological daughter, sweet little Cindy Mackenzie. So,” Madison concluded. “I wanted to make that bitch suffer.”

“It’s times like these I wonder if you’ve ever met Mac,” said Veronica thoughtfully. “Because words like ‘bitch’ and ‘suffer’ aren’t typical word associations for Mac – although they’re a bit more creative than ‘cheese,’ so - points for effort.”

Madison didn’t respond. She fidgeted with the gun in her hands, and Dean remembered – keep her talking. “What about the other graves,” he said, “why did you mess them up?”

“Distraction,” said Madison. “I wanted the sheriff’s department to assume it was just a standard vandalism.”

“So you made Lilly’s grave look like the focus of the attacks, just to muddy the waters,” said Veronica.

“What is it about Lilly Kane that sets this whole town in a frenzy even years later?” asked Madison. “I just don’t see the appeal. But it wasn’t all strategy on my part – to be honest, it was fun messing up her headstone. Better than therapy. Lilly Kane was a nasty piece of work – it’s no wonder you two were BFFs.”

“Criticisms on character are a bit rich coming from someone like you,” snorted Dean.

“You don’t even know me,” said Madison dismissively.

“I know you’re a cold manipulative bitch who doesn’t care who gets hurt in your schemes.”

“Me?” pouted Madison. “Why, I’m practically an angel. ”

“Yeah,” said Dean, “and if you’ve met some of the ones I have you’d know that’s no compliment.”

“What are you going to do?” she smirked. “Kill me?”

“No,” said Dean, pointing. “But he might.” That was when Cassidy snapped Madison’s neck.

Veronica screamed. Dean dashed over to her. “It’s alright,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

Cassidy was making a high, keening sort of noise, clutching at Madison’s limp body. Dean could feel Veronica shiver beside him. “When I give the word,” he said, “run.”

And they did.

*

By the time Dean and Veronica had made it back to where the Impala was parked outside the graveyard, Sam was waiting for them – accompanied by Mac and Logan. Mac still looked shaken; Logan was tense and ready to snap at anyone. They were standing next to a silver SUV. “They wouldn’t stay behind,” Sam had mouthed at Dean when Dean had glared at him for dragging two more civilians into this.

“He killed Madison?” said Sam. “Huh.”

“Yeah,” said Dean. “And Veronica was right there. He could have gone for her just as easily.”

“Well that’s the end of that theory,” said Sam. “So apart from Madison, the only person he’s shown any interest in is Mac.”

“Would you two stop talking about us like we’re not here?” said Veronica sharply.

“Sorry,” said Dean. “We’re just not used to hunting with the rest of the Planeteers.”

Mac shook her head. “I just –don’t understand why someone would do that.”

“Yeah, well, this is Madison,” said Veronica. “I gave up being surprised of what she was capable of back in junior high.”

“Don’t be too hard on her. Sometimes people just get caught up in things,” Dean said. “And sometimes what they get caught up in turns out to be bigger than they are.” Sam looked at him, startled. Dean shrugged, and resumed sorting through the weapons compartment of the Impala’s trunk.

“Maybe it’s my fault for not enunciating,” said Veronica, thoughtfully. “All those times we fought in high school, maybe she thought I was calling her a heinous witch.”

Logan snorted. “She must have been deaf,” he said, “because you enunciated pretty loudly. For a pocket-sized girl detective, you had a very shrill voice. Still do, actually.”

“Yeah,” she said lightly, “but you love me anyway.” She bit her lip, as if realizing what she’d just said.

“Yeah,” said Logan, staring at his hands, “still do, actually.”

Dean coughed, twice. “This is all very heartwarming,” he said. “And I’m glad you crazy kids are patching things up. But right now, we’ve got a zombie on the loose.”

Mac shivered.

“It’ll be fine,” said Sam reassuringly. “We just need to lure Cassidy back to his coffin.”

“Then what?” said Veronica.

“Stake him,” Dean said, grimly, tossing Sam the stake. Sam caught it one-handed.

“And how exactly are you planning to lure him back?” asked Logan skeptically. “What are you, the zombie-whisperer?”

“You’ll need bait, right?” said Mac, twisting her hair nervously.

Veronica protested. “Mac!”

Mac shook her head. “No, it’s okay,” she said. “You said it yourself – it’s me he’s looking for. I just want this to be over with.”

“Good girl,” said Dean approvingly. “Listen, nothing’s going to happen to you. Sam will be there the whole time. The rest of us will wait back here – if there’s too many of us, he won’t approach.”

Sam and Mac set off to the grave-sites. The only sound was the crunch of gravel, which faded the further away they got, until eventually there was no noise at all.

Veronica leant against the trunk of the Impala. Logan hovered near her, kept glancing over at her every few seconds, as if checking she was still there. Veronica was too distracted to notice the scrutiny, though, otherwise Dean had no doubt that she would have called him on it.

“They’ll be okay,” said Dean. “Sam will take care of her.”

“You guys kill zombies often?” asked Logan.

“Honestly?” Dean said, “we’ve only come across a couple – still kind of a novelty. But we have the system down. And I’m sure Sam won’t break his arm this time.”

“This time?” repeated Veronica.

That was when they heard the scream.

Veronica grabbed Logan’s arm. “That was Wallace,” she said.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Mac?” said Logan. “’Cause it sounded like a girl.”

“Definitely Wallace. Feel free to tease him about it later,” called out Veronica over her shoulder.

“Oh for crying out loud,” Dean said, “what did you do, invite everyone you know?”

They were running, though, all three of them – had started as soon as they heard the scream. “Wait up,” protested Dean, jogging to get ahead of the pair of them. “Nobody goes off on their own, you hear me?”

*

“Sam! You find him?” hollered Dean, as they approached the grave site. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered, standing there – a tall silhouette in the moonlight. Wallace stood beside him. Mac was clinging to his arm, looking shaken. “I took him out. But –“

“But what?” Dean said.

“Not before someone else found him too,” finished Sam, stepping aside, and that was when Dean saw the person behind Sam, crouched beside the coffin.

“Dick?” Veronica asked, incredulous.

“Hey, Ronnie,” said Dick, without looking up.

“Oh, fuck,” Logan said feelingly.

“Oh, hey Logan,” said Dick. He was staring at his hands as if they were the only things in the world.

“You guys know each other?” said Sam, looking between them.

“Yeah,” said Logan wearily – “this is Dick. Dick Casablancas, Cassidy’s brother. Dick, last I heard you were partying it up in Ibiza.”

Dick swiped his face. His eyes were bloodshot. “I was,” he said. “And then my lawyer contacted me. Said someone had been messing with Beav’s grave. And I – I had to come back and see what was going on.”

They all looked up as they heard the approaching footsteps. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, V,” said Weevil, walking towards them. “When you asked me to leave the gates open tonight, I didn’t realize it was because you were staging a high school reunion.”

He did a double-take of the scene before him – the open coffin, Cassidy’s body. “Holy mother of…” he said, crossing himself.

“Something like that,” Veronica said grimly. “Here, can you take Mac home?”

Mac walked across to Weevil, and buried her face in his shirt. He stroked her hair absently, eyes fixed on Cassidy’s body the whole time. “Hey,” he said, “hey, it’s going to be alright.” Then he locked eyes with Veronica, mouthed what the fuck.

She shrugged, shivered in the night-air.

Logan pulled off his jacket - and for a moment Dean thought he was going to offer it to Veronica – but instead Logan laid it gently across Cassidy’s face.

“C’mon,” Logan said, settling his arm across Dick’s shoulder and leaning in so that their foreheads were almost touching. “Let’s all go and get really, really hammered.”

*

“I was such a shitty brother,” said Dick, staring at the mounting pile of shot glasses in front of him. That’s not what brothers are meant to be like, y’know? I mean, he had all these things happening to him, and I just had no idea. No. Fucking. Idea.”

Dean slid him over another drink. Dick cradled the shot glass in his hand.

“Fuck,” Dick said, voice thick with emotion. “He was my kid brother, man. How could he be that messed up and I didn’t see it?”

Dean gulped his own shot down. It burnt his throat; tasted nothing like absolution.

*

“What are you going to do now?” asked Veronica.

“We better call our friend Missouri,” said Sam, “let her know it’s all been sorted.”

“Did you say Missouri?” Wallace asked. He and Logan were sitting opposite Sam.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “You know her?”

“I know someone by that name, yeah,” said Wallace.

“Really?” Sam said. “Missouri Moseley?”

“That’s the one,” said Wallace. “She’s my mom’s sister – but I’ve never met her. I’m not even sure she knows I exist.”

Sam smiled. “She knows. Trust me.”

*

“You don’t understand,” said Dick, miserably. “Dad and I – we used to have competitions to see, to see,” he swiped his eyes, “fuck, to see if we could make the kid cry.”’

“That so,” said Dean, passing him another beer. Dick accepted it gratefully and downed it in three swallows. Sam was in the corner, talking to Logan, Wallace and Veronica. Every few minutes he kept looking up at Dean, as if checking he was still there.

“This one time,” Dick continued, as if he’d never stopped speaking, “I duct-taped his feet to his bike-pedals. Fuck. I mean, who does that?”

“You’re right,” Dean said levelly, “that’s a pretty shitty thing for a big brother to do. You should have done better by him.”

Dick gave a dismal sniff. “Yeah,” he said. “You think I don’t know that?”

“Nah,” said Dean. “I think you do know it.” He paused. “I knew guys like you in high school, Dick. I went to a lot of high schools, and there’s jerks and bullies wherever you go. Some grow out of it. Most don’t.”

“But,” said Dean, and Dick looked up at him, with something like hope in his eyes, “you can’t put it all on yourself. Sure, maybe you coulda been a better brother – but it goes both ways. Sounds to me like Cassidy could have given you more of a chance.”

“Don’t you blame him,” said Dick savagely. “Don’t you bring him into this.”

“He is this,” said Dean. “Whatever this is. And see, the way you defended him just now – that’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

“What do you mean?” said Dick.

“Well,” said Dean, “if you’d known that that coach guy – what’s his name?”

“Woody,” said Dick, and he didn’t sound drunk anymore. He sounded furious.

“Woody,” repeated Dean. “If you’d known Woody was messing with your kid brother like that…”

“I’d have killed him,” said Dick – fierce and fast, and truth burnt beneath the words.

“Exactly,” said Dean.

Dick slumped back in his seat, head in his hands. “I don’t know why he didn’t just tell me,” he said, and he sounded lost and impossibly young.

“Yeah,” said Dean, swiping his hand across his chin. “Me either.”

*

“Poor Dick. He’s pretty messed up,” said Wallace.

“Yeah,” said Logan. “Family has that effect on people.” Veronica looked away, and when she looked back at him her eyes were softer, somehow.

“Do you have a brother?” Sam asked Logan.

“Not really,” said Logan, looking down. “I mean, technically, yes, but,” he trailed off. “It’s complicated.”

Sam shrugged. “So what. Families are always complicated, in my experience.”

Logan laughed. “No, trust me, my family complications are the kind usually reserved for Jerry Springer.”

“Try me,” said Sam.

“Well – there’s this guy. Charlie Stone. And he’s my half-brother. When I found out about him a few years back, I thought I’d get to know him, y’know?”

“Then what happened?” asked Sam, leaning forward.

“Turns out,” said Logan, voice brittle, “turns out, it was just some jerk-off who stole his identity and was posing as my half-brother.” He laughed. “I mean, what are the chances of that, huh?”

“That does sound bizarre,” said Sam, steadfastly pushing away feelings that were rushing to the surface, because how could you miss someone you’d never known, not really? “What about the real Charlie? What happened to him?”

Logan blinked. “Nothing happened to him,” he said. “After I found out - I tried to get in contact with him. He never returned my call.”

“So keep calling,” said Sam.

“It’s not as simple as that,” said Logan.

“Uh, yeah, actually it is,” said Sam. “Or it can be. And Logan – trust me, it’s worth it. Family’s always worth it.”

*

Veronica cornered them as they were leaving the bar. “Where are you going?” she asked.

“Back to burn Cassidy’s body,” said Sam, half-turning. “Just to be safe. We don’t know what kind of spell Madison used, but the fire should clear up any remnants.”

“Wait,” she said. “Let me come with you.”

“I’m coming too,” said Logan, appearing behind her.

“What?” said Dean. “No, you stay here with your friends. You’ve both had a rough night. Neither of you want to see this.”

Veronica looked oddly vulnerable. “No,” she said, “I don’t want to. But I think maybe I need to.”

Logan nodded. “I owe it to Dick,” he said, jutting out his chin.

“Shouldn’t you stay with Dick?” Sam said, a bit doubtful. They looked over. Dick was staring in fascination at the coaster on the table, moving it forwards and backwards.

“I’ll babysit him,” volunteered Wallace. “You two go.”

“Fine,” said Dean. “Let’s do this.”

As they walked out, Wallace clapped Dick on the shoulder. “C’mon, man,” he said, “that’s enough for tonight. Let’s get you outta here.”

*

They were silent all the way back to the graveyard. It was a standard salt-and-burn, and Dean and Sam made quick work of it, falling back into practiced motions - and this, at least, came easily.

The four of them huddled together as they watched the flames devour what was left of Cassidy Casablancas.

“As simple as that,” said Veronica, moving closer to Sam.

“Simple as that,” he echoed.

Logan was staring into the fire: flames reflected in his eyes, lazy smile lost somewhere along the way. When he spoke, his voice was savage. “What’s dead should stay dead.”

Dean slanted a glance across at Sam; rubbed his own shoulder and felt the traces of an angel’s hand. “Usually,” he said.

*

As they were walking out of the cemetery, Veronica pulled Dean aside. “What do we do about Madison’s body?”

“We leave it,” said Dean, looking at her steadily. “If no-one’s found it by tomorrow morning, call it in. Her family deserves some closure.”

“They’ll want to know what happened,” said Veronica. “What do we tell them?”

“Anything you like,” said Dean. “You can try the truth, but in my experience people generally don’t believe you.”

“They’ll probably blame you,” said Veronica.

“Perks of the job, sweetheart. Don’t worry, me and Sam, we’re used to it by now. Mostly.”

*

They stood there, outside the gates of graveyard. The sun was rising slowly on the horizon, gleaming off the polished metal fence.

“So – hunting the undead with the undead,” said Veronica, dusting off her hands. “Just another day in Neptune.”

“What,” said Dean, “no more Bonnie and Clyde jokes?”

Veronica grinned. “Nah,” she said, “I figured I’d go with the Hardy Boys –Halloween edition. Fits better with the Nancy Drew theme. Plus – they’re brothers.”

“Yeah,” said Sam. “They are.” Dean was standing across from him, and shot him a smile, which Sam returned, and something loosened in his chest, because yeah, they were still piecing together the broken places between them, but they were brothers, and some things never changed.

“I guess that makes me Ned,” said Logan, resting his arm across Veronica’s shoulder cautiously. She didn’t lean in to the touch, but she didn’t pull away either.

“Wait,” said Veronica. “Who’s Ned?”

“Nancy’s boyfriend,” chorused Logan, Sam and Dean – and then looked at each other, dismayed.

“Seriously,” Veronica said, eyes dancing, “am I the only one here who hasn’t read Nancy Drew?”

*

Once they got back to the Camelot Motel, Sam and Dean slept until about mid-afternoon, and then packed up, ready to get back on the road.

As he walked out of the motel room, duffle bag over his shoulder and Sam right behind, Dean had a moment of déjà vu – because there was Veronica examining his car - same pose as the first time he saw her. Wallace stood beside her, looking sheepish.

“What are you stealing this time?” Dean growled.

She turned around, flashed him an overly innocent smile. “Who, little old me?” she said. “Haven’t you heard – it’s more blessed to give than receive? I came to give you a goodbye present.”

“Huh,” said Dean, unconvinced. “That so?”

Sam interrupted. “What Dean is trying to say,” he said, “is that was completely unnecessary, but very kind of you.”

“Don’t thank me yet – wait til you try them,” said Veronica, lifting the lid of the container she was holding. “I made you some of my famous snickerdoodles. Secret family recipe.”

“Snickerdoodles,” said Wallace, his eyes lighting up. Veronica batted his hand away. “They’re not for you,” she chided. His face fell, and she relented. “Yours are in my car.”

His grin stretched from ear to ear. “Veronica Mars, has anybody ever told you you’re a marshmallow?”

“Now, Wallace,” she said, “you know flattery will get you nowhere,” but she looked pleased.

Dean was watching the exchange in amusement, Sam by his side – until he felt Sam pull away, and walk over to Wallace.

“Hey Wallace,” said Sam, “mind if I talk to you for a second?”

“Yeah, okay,” said Wallace, as he followed Sam a few steps away.

Veronica leant against the hood of the Impala. “So zombies are real,” she mused. “I guess ghosts really exist too, huh?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Less Casper, more vengeful spirit – but yeah. They exist.”

Veronica nodded. “It’s silly,” she said. “Only… for the first few years after she died, I kept seeing her. Lilly. So – I wondered.”

“Could’ve been,” said Dean. “Were there cold spots? Strange noises?”

Veronica looked at him. “No,” she said. “I never knew if it was my imagination or – something else. It was usually dreams. Or just - glimpses. They mostly went away after Aaron was caught.”

“Yeah,” said Dean thoughtfully, “that could do it, the whole justice-is-served. But if they ever come back, or if anything else strange happens around here – you give us a call, you hear?”

“Yes sir,” said Veronica, with a mock-salute. “Who you gonna call?”

She was sassy, Dean thought. Peppy, too.

*

Wallace shuffled on his feet, uncertain. “So,” he said, “why are you keeping me from those fine snickerdoodles?”

“Listen,” said Sam, “you know how we talked about Missouri last night? She’s the reason we came here in the first place, did you know that? She’s a psychic, had a vision that something dark was happening here in Neptune.”

Wallace looked a little spooked and a lot intrigued. “That so?” he said.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Anyway. I know she and your mom may not be on speaking terms, but that doesn’t mean you should miss out on the chance to get to know your own family. Something to think about, anyway. I know she’d love to hear from you.”

Wallace pocketed the slip of paper Sam handed him. “Thanks,” he said, and shook Sam’s hand. “Appreciate it.”

They walked back over to Dean and Veronica. “Everything okay, Wallace?” she said.

“Yeah,” Wallace grinned. “Just another long-lost-relative for me to track down.”

Veronica looked at him. “Really?” she said.

“Yeah,” said Wallace, “I’m taking it in my stride, these days.”

“That’s my Wallace,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Well,” Sam said, “we better hit the road. Thanks for everything, you two.”

“Yeah,” Dean echoed. “Thanks.”

She hugged them both, and Wallace shook Dean’s hand. “Thank you,” he said.

“Anytime,” Dean said, surprising himself by how much he meant it.

They got in the car, and Dean started the engine and was about to pull away from the curb – when Veronica rapped sharply on the window – once, twice.

He rolled it down.

“Maybe I’ll see you round, Winchesters,” Veronica said – and it wasn’t until she looked at him expectantly that Dean placed what she was quoting, realized this was his cue.

“Count on it,” he said, and winked.

He watched in the rearview mirror as she and Wallace waved goodbye; their reflections growing smaller and smaller until finally they were lost to the scenery.

*

It wasn’t until three hundred miles down the road, when Dean was pulled over at the gas station, that he looked through the backseat window and saw it. “Sam! Have you seen this?” he hollered.

Sam stopped his weird stretching routine and ambled over to take a look. “What the hell,” he began, holding up an expensive-looking card-copying machine. There was a note attached - written on My Little Pony paper, all the I’s dotted with exaggerated hearts. “I asked Weevil if you could have this. Thought it would be a step up from the Copy Jack.”

Dean laughed. “Cute,” he said. “Hey, Sam! Looks like you and Veronica have the same taste in stationary.” Sam punched him on the shoulder, but he was smiling, a real smile.

“Shut your pie-hole,” Sam said, grinning.

“What,” retorted Dean, “you gonna make-gmph—” and then his mind shut down in snickerdoodle-induced bliss at the cookie Sam had just crammed into his mouth.

Sam licked the crumbs off his fingers. “Gonna have to ask her for that recipe.”

Next to him, Dean made a blissful agreeing sound.