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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ: "God, it's like a real-life telenovela." 💫✦🌺
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"SHE'S DEAD. BURNED UP, JUST LIKE YOU SAID."
Venus stood beside Dean at the gas station, listening to his phone call with Sam. Her nose crinkled at the lingering smell of gasoline and burnt flesh in the air. This had to be one of the most gruesome ways to have someone take their own life. Whoever did this had serious qualms with this woman.
"When?" Sam's low voice came through the speakerphone.
"Minutes before we got here. The smell hasn't even cleared," Dean explained, grabbing Venus' wrist and pulling her further away from the putrid scent, "What's up with your visions, man? This wasn't even a head start."
"I can't control them. I don't know what the hell is going on."
Venus grabbed Dean's arm and brought the phone closer to her lips. "Sam, I hope you know Andy didn't do this. You were with him the whole time so it has to be someone else."
"That doesn't make any sense," they heard Sam mutter to himself.
"What else is new?" Dean quipped.
"We'll dig around here and see what we can find," Venus told the younger hunter before nodding for Dean to hang up.
The pair pulled out fake federal marshall badges and questioned mechanics and firefighters until police cars rolled into the gas station. They promptly left the scene after that.
But Venus called Ash to expand on the small pieces of info they got, which proved way more useful.
"Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single," Dean informed Sam and Andy as he and Venus hopped out of the Impala.
"Who is she?" Sam turned to Andy.
The shorter man shrugged. "Never heard of her."
"I called Ash on the way over and came up with something pretty interesting," Venus chimed in, "Holly gave birth when she was eighteen, back in 1983. And it was the same day you were born, Andy," she paused and looked down at the younger man.
