Chapter Text
As the sun was setting, a logger was chopping down a tree. He pulled the cord back on his chainsaw, and it started with a vroom. As he started to slice into the tree, the chainsaw started to stutter.
"Don't give me that." The logger grunted, barely audible over the sound of his chainsaw. The tool starts shaking violently, causing the logger to almost lose his grip- but he holds on for dear life as he tries to turn it off.
Suddenly- the chainsaw stops. The man frowned as he didn't turn it off. It must've stopped working. He sets the device down on the forest floor, getting ready to inspect it. "You good over there?" A coworker calls out, but the man ignores him, seemingly lost in his own world. The coworker frowns and begins to walk over.
"Isaiah." A name is whispered. His name.
He flips around, trying to see who is calling him. The coworker watches in confusion as Isaiah stares frighteningly at nothing.
"Who's there?" He grunted.
"It's Jeremy- I'm right over here-"
Isaiah steps backwards, tripping over nothing right as the chainsaw roars to life.
He falls right on the chainsaw.
Jeremy freezes in place, eyes wide as he watches his coworker Isaiah become impaled and mauled.
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The day began on the road, Dean driving, Sam in the passenger seat, and you stretched out in the back. You bobbed your head to Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap while gazing at the landscape ahead. It was vacant of any humanity- just forest- the only man-made thing being the very road you were driving down. You had no idea where you were but it was definitely in the middle of nowhere.
Turns out the case Sam had found was in a small town.
"Here's the deal- bizarre forest deaths that are being written off as accidents due to faulty equipment and diseased trees." Sam read. "The most recent death- dude fell on his own chainsaw, while it was turned on."
"Right, because nothing says 'accident' like a chainsaw with a mind of its own." Dean quipped.
"Don't worry, Dean. If the chainsaw comes after you- I'll save you." You smirked.
"Save me? Sweetheart, if I need saving from a chainsaw, just put me outta my misery."
"Big talk from a guy who jumped when the toaster sparked this morning."
"It was possessed. I stand by my reaction."
"Sure, Winchester. I'll keep the salt handy for when any appliances turn on you again."
"Are you two done, or should I leave you alone with this chainsaw?" Sam groans.
Your face flushed even though you knew Sam was only joking. Dean never thought of you in any way other than a friend.
You had always looked up to Dean. Even though you were the same age- you always admired his confidence in knowing what he wants.
Which of course- was never you.
You'd given him so many signs, flirting with him at every corner. But he always brushed it off and pretended like you never opened your mouth. Some days you didn't give a shit what he thought, but other days, it was like the only thing you ever needed.
Needed to be seen, to be heard, to be touched- by him.
You shifted in the back seat- maybe you needed sleep, not Dean.
You tuned back into the music, trying to drown out your attraction to Dean.
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The impala came to a stop near a local diner, where you spotted a few disturbing flyers hanging on a nearby bulletin board. You get out of the car and walk over- reading flyers that say:
"THE GRAVE KEEPER IS BACK"
"BEWARE THE GRAVE KEEPER"
Sam and Dean followed behind you and eyed the flyers as well.
"The grave keeper?" Dean read. Almost instantaneously a woman walks out of the diner and straight over to the board you all were staring at.
She begins pulling down the odd flyers and apologizes. "Sorry, these weren't approved by the city council to be posted on the bulletin board... so I'll just take them down."
There was an awkward silence until you spoke up. "Who's the grave keeper?"
She stopped fiddling with the papers and finally looked at the three of you. "oh!" She muttered as she realized you were out-of-towners. "I didn't realize you guys weren't from around here. I-um- yes the grave keeper. It's kind of a local legend. Lousy teens going around putting these flyers up- trying to scare people." She laughed nervously.
"What's the legend?" Sam piped up and her face contorted like that was the last thing she wanted to hear.
"Well I'm not really sure where it came from, but people say it's like a ghost that punishes people for harming the land. I don't really know why it's called a grave keeper..." She trailed off and glanced back at the diner like she was hoping someone would come to her rescue. You picked up on this.
"I'm (y/n). We're just stopping in town to recharge- got a big road trip ahead of us." You reached out to shake her hand and her demeanor softened as she reached out to accept your handshake. "This is Sam and Dean. You work at the diner? We were just about to grab something to eat."
After lunch- you and Sam had done some digging online about the victims. They had all worked for or were affiliated with a lumber company- Logging Co.
"Remember what the manager was saying outside- the "grave keeper" punishes people for harming the land?" You reminded the boys.
Dean looked at you. "Right and loggers cut down trees. So we have a hippie ghost?"
You snorted. "Maybe?"
"Let's go find out." Sam said, and with that the three of you left the diner. Walking back to the impala, Dean opened the door to the backseat for you.
"Aw, what a gentleman." You said, playfully.
"Shh- I've got a reputation to uphold." He responded, earning an eyeroll from Sam as he got into the passenger seat.
"Too late. I already sent out the press release." You said as you got into the car. Dean chuckled as he shut the door behind you, finally getting into the driver's seat.
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The car ride was short, but it felt like the longest car ride of your life since Sam was giving Dean directions. Directions to a small parking lot near a trail entrance.
Despite the bickering- the vibrant green trees were beautiful- especially with the light flickering through the leaves as the car drove past them. It could be blinding at times, but sometimes blinding is good. It reminds you to close your eyes and bask in the warmth of the sunlight.
The semi-hike to the logging camp was easy, the fresh air and quiet was nice. And the walk wasn't too bad either considering you wore some thrifted hiking boots in order to look official.
Official as in, U.S. Forest Service official.
The three of you knew you had arrived when the once vast area of trees was now a clearing. There was a lot of industrial equipment, machines you couldn't really name.
Your gaze across the land was cut short when you noticed a man walking hurriedly towards you.
"Hey, no trespassing please!" He called out as he got closer and closer.
Sam took the lead. "We're with the U.S. Forest Service. Are you in charge here?"
The man finally came to a stop just a few feet ahead of you. "I'm just the foreman. Who are you again?"
You spoke up, using the forestry jargon you read about earlier. "U.S. Forest Service. We're here to look into the dieback in the stand you're cutting down."
"Stand" was used as a management unit referring to a section of trees based on species, age, or growth conditions. "Dieback" was when trees were dying without an obvious condition present.
"Oh, well you'll want to talk to Owen. He's the botanist our company hired or whatever." The foreman replies, not caring enough anymore, as he points behind him towards an area with several stumps.
Walking over to the botanist- who was now squatted down in front of one of the stumps- you took note of his features. He had loose brown hair, it was a little messy. He was wearing jeans and a blue flannel with the sleeves rolled up to avoid getting them dirty. Instead, his arms seemed to be covered in splotches of dirt. As he looked down at the stump his glasses started sliding down the bridge of his nose until he pushed them back up.
He noticed six footsteps encroaching. "I get it- you wanna chop down more trees. But it's highly irresponsible to be out here without taking the proper precautions-" Without looking up, he started going on a tangent assuming you were loggers.
You squatted down next to him and held out your hand- talking over his rant. "(Y/n). Logistics and Survey Coordinator." You flashed your fake U.S. Forest Service credentials. He accepted your handshake and smiled- looking relieved. "This is Sam" you pointed, "He's our Plant and Pathogen Specialist, and that's Dean- Equipment and Site Safety."
"I'm Owen." He smiled, only now letting go of your hand.
"You look like you've been living out here." You gestured to the scuffs of dirt on his arms.
"Feels like it. Glad the U.S. Forest Service finally showed up- you guys are walking into way more than just bad logging practices." Owen remarked, nodding to the stump below.
"So- what's been going on?" Sam asked. Owen took a deep breath- standing up straight- reaching for your hand and pulling you up with him. You muttered a quick "Thanks." in order to not distract from the conversation, and he gave you a small nod and smile.
"Take a look at this stump." Owen pointed down at the stump and you finally saw it.
Some of the bark had been peeled back revealing the inside. It looked like there were tiny black vines embedded in what was left of the tree. The vines were jagged and looked sharp to the touch but also sludgy and slimy at the same time. The inner rings of the stump seemed normal, almost like whatever was spreading stopped once it was chopped down.
"It just looks like the stump is rotting." Dean said. This made you realize you hadn't really seen a rotten stump before. Was this what it looked like? It couldn't be. People were dying.
"And that's why you're our equipment guy." Sam quipped as he moved forward to get a closer look. Dean shot him a glare while you stifled a laugh. "So, have you run any tests to find out what this is?" Sam asked.
"I've tested for fungal pathogens, parasitic plants, and bacterial infections. Nothing. Here- let me show you something else." Owen replies and starts to walk off towards some full grown trees.
You follow at his side. "How long have you been a botanist?" You ask him, making small talk.
"Certified PhD? Only a few years. At heart? My whole life." He responds with a smile. That was a cute answer. He was cute. "Are you asking for professional purposes, or personal?"
Oh.
Oh.
He was bold.
"I-" You went to respond as Owen stopped right in front of one of the trees- looking at you- waiting for your answer. But Dean cut you off.
"Forest speed dating is cancelled for today. Now what were you showing us?" He grumbled and Owen looked taken aback but quickly regained his composure.
"Right- actually on the other side of this tree-" Owen walked around to the other side and you all followed.
Some of the bark had been stripped and you saw more of those jagged vines. Owen pulls two objects out his bag and reaches towards the tree.
You now watch as he uses a scalpel to scrape off a tiny vine into a vial. As the vine settles into the vial, it oozes its black coloring which evaporates. What's left behind is a small green and brown lump.
"Whatever I remove from the trees- it breaks down almost instantly. It's untraceable." Owen remarks, frowning at the small vial.
"Meaning?" You ask.
"Meaning it's just normal plant matter. So when I test it, there's nothing wrong with it. So the trees should be fine- but they aren't." He pulls out a large paper, unfolding it and shows it to the three of you. "I've also been mapping out all of the diseased trees to see if there's a pattern. It hasn't been helpful either."
"Each dot resembles a tree showing the same symptoms- bark rot, black vines under the cambium, soil discoloration at the base." Owen explains as you stare at the map. There were lots of red dots forming a circle pattern, almost like someone took a circular stamp right over the trees themself.
"Looks like clusters." Sam points out.
"Right- but they aren't random. They form these, not exactly circles, but rings of infection. All radiating from the center." Owen confirms.
"An infection that makes... crop circles?" You joked.
Owen laughs. "That's one way to put it."
"Hilarious, trees makin' crop circles." Dean says- flatly.
You gave him a confused look but tried to play it off. "Easy, Dean- didn't know tree jokes were such a sore spot for you."
"Not sore. Just not that funny." Dean muttered.
That hurt a little.
Sam stepped forward before anyone else could say something unrelated to the case. "Do you think this has anything to do with the loggers that died?"
"The loggers that... what?" Owen's eyes widened in shock. "I only know about the diseased trees..."
"Really? You care more about plants than people?" Dean spat.
"Dean, that isn't what he said." You said, trying to defuse the situation. "Owen- there have been a few accidental deaths out here. What Sam was getting at was... maybe this infection could be… throwing people off."
“This is my third day out here. They never brought it up at contracting- I-I don’t know what to say.” Owen stammered.
“Anything that stuck out to you-unrelated to the trees?” Sam asked.
"I mean- there was someone fired for neglecting to inspect equipment properly. But I don’t see how that would be relevant to the U.S. Forest Service.” Owen replied, a mix of frustration and confusion on his face.
“This person that was fired- they got a name?” Dean pushed for more info, disregarding Owen’s last statement. Owen frowned at him and didn't seem willing to offer anymore information.
“Just humor us, please.” You said giving him a smile, using his attraction to you as an advantage.
“Jeremy Burn.” He answered. You thanked him and Sam asked Owen for the vial of plant matter which he gave over with a shrug.
"We should go talk to the foreman." Dean said, you and Sam nodded.
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The foreman was helpful- only because all he had to do was hand over the file of the employee that was fired. It was also useful as you grabbed a flyer for a logging union- known as Loyal Legion of Loggers and Lumbermen- or the Four L.
Dean had decided he wanted to go and talk to Jeremy, while you and Sam went to the local library to look into the town's history.
The impala pulled over in front of the library with you and Sam getting out. Sam popped open the trunk to grab his bag and laptop, while you gazed at the old building.
"(y/n), hey." Sam uttered, drawing your attention from the library to him.
"What's wrong?" You walked over to him, the trunk now acting as a shield between the two of you and Dean.
"I think you should go with Dean, he's been acting weird today." Sam said quietly.
"Weird how?" You asked.
"Like- grumpy asshole weird." Sam replied. "Just go with him so he doesn't piss that guy off and dig us in a hole, okay? Meet me back here when you guys are done."
You nodded and Sam closed the trunk. Before Dean could drive off you jumped over to the passenger side door and swung it open. You got in gracefully.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked as you shut the door and waved at Sam.
"Alright 3940 Berry Avenue, here we come." You said ignoring Dean's question.
"(Y/n)- what are you doing?"
"Sam's boring. And I don't wanna read books right now." You said, giving him a smile. "Now, drive."
"That's pretty bossy." Dean replied as he put the impala in drive and pulled away from the library.
"Mmm. Sam's bossier." You hummed, watching out the window.
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Dean started by knocking on the door.
Jeremy answered, staring blankly.
"Hey there- my name is Brian Harris and this is Marcy McClean. We're with the Four L, you got a minute to talk?" Dean greeted, putting on his friendliest face.
Jeremy’s gaze flicked to Dean briefly, but when it landed on you, it lingered. His frown eased into something almost curious.
"Yeah, I've seen your names on the union flyers. Why are you here? I thought you only showed up when there's dues to collect." Jeremy responded, looking a bit annoyed.
"Well we also show up when people get tossed aside. Heard Logging Co. might have done you dirty." Dean says bluntly. Jeremy stared at him flatly, expression unchanged.
So you jump in. "What Brian here is trying to say is, we know how these companies work. One mistake, one accident, and suddenly it's your fault. We've seen it before, we just want to make sure your story gets heard."
Jeremy's expression softens a bit as his eyes lock with yours. "Well… Marcy, was it? You’ve got a better way of putting it." His voice carried a faint, almost teasing lilt.
Dean shifted his weight beside you, jaw clenching.
Jeremy went on, talking more to you than to Dean. "Look- that chainsaw was in pristine condition when I inspected it that day. But when it happened- when Isaiah-" He paused, taking a deep breath. "I don't think it was the saw's fault."
"What do you mean?" You probed gently.
"I probably sound like an asshole. Blaming the guy that got killed- but something was off with him right before he died."
"Off how?" Dean pushed.
Jeremy shifted uncomfortably at Dean’s voice. "Why do a couple of union workers care about that, anyway?" He looked back at you and smirked. "Not that I mind talking to you."
Dean opened his mouth to retort- but you sensed whatever he had to say would be a bit... detrimental to the case- so you quickly and wittingly made up an excuse.
"Well if anybody else noticed something was up with Isaiah, then that's on the company, not on you." You said.
He nodded toward you like you’d just said the smartest thing he's ever heard. "Exactly. You get it."
Dean crossed his arms.
Jeremy hesitated, then leaned slightly in your direction. "Although I didn’t notice anything with him earlier, it was like he lost control of the chainsaw. Dropped it on the ground, and it turned on somehow, and then he fell—"
He frowned hard, reliving it. Then steadied himself. "Before he fell, he was yelling 'Who's there?' and when I responded, it was like he couldn't hear me."
"Was anyone else out there?" Dean questioned.
"No, it was just me and him. We were wrapping up for the day. Honestly we shouldn't have even been out there-" He cuts himself off, looking like he just said too much.
"You shouldn't have been out there?" You ask, practically pleading him to answer.
"Look, I shouldn't share this because it could probably get people in trouble- but most of their employees don't know so it should be fine, right?" Jeremy blabs like he is trying to convince himself and you nod trying to comfort him.
"They don't have a permit to be out there. I found out and kept going to work everyday- so I'm not too torn up about being fired." He finally shared. You and Dean gave each other a look.
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Dean had been quiet as you thanked Jeremy for his time, leaving his porch and retreating to the car.
“So whatever this is- it clearly doesn’t appreciate the whole not having a permit thing.” You said to him as you both slid into the car.
“What was with that guy?” Dean blurted as if he didn’t hear anything you said.
“What guy?” You gave him a confused look.
“Jeremy.” Dean gripped the steering wheel. “Mr. ‘I inspected the chainsaw, but don’t worry, Marcy, you understand me better than anyone.’”
You smirked. "Are you jealous? Because it kinda sounds like you’re jealous."
Dean scoffed, shifting in his seat. "Please. I just don’t like how fast he was spilling his guts to you. Couldn’t wait to give you the whole sob story.”
"Dean," you said, amused. "We’re supposed to get people to talk to us. That’s the whole point. And if he was more comfortable talking to me, that just means I’m good at my job."
He turned his head to glare at you, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to grin. "Good at your job, huh? Guess I’ll have to watch my back next time a logger or a botanist with bedroom eyes comes sniffin’ around."
"Bedroom eyes?" You laughed. "Really?"
Dean finally started the car, grumbling. "Don’t tell me you didn’t notice. This guy looked at you like you were the last beer in the fridge. That botanist earlier too."
You leaned back in the seat, deliberately smug. “Well, maybe I am the last beer in the fridge.”
Dean shot you a look so sharp you couldn’t help but laugh harder, and he shook his head, muttering under his breath as he pulled away from the curb.
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