That night, the three of them sat inside the Impala parked across from Peter's house, keeping watch for any sign of the ghost ship or whatever came with it.
Rainwater from earlier still clung to the streets, reflecting the dim porch lights across the neighborhood while the engine idled softly beneath them.
Dean sat in the driver's seat with his eyes fixed on the house. "You know," he said after a while, "this Peter guy feels kinda shady."
Sam sighed immediately from the passenger seat. "Dean…"
"No, seriously," Dean continued, still watching the windows. "He's checked on us like five times in the last hour." He pointed toward the curtains slightly. "That's not normal nervous behavior. That's 'I've got bodies in my basement' behavior."
Henry looked up briefly from the shawarma he was eating in the backseat. "Actually," he said thoughtfully, "I've seen that look before too. Usually from people hiding something."
Sam looked between them in disbelief. "Or," he said patiently, "he's terrified because people are mysteriously drowning, his brother was one of them, and now three strangers are sitting outside his house all night."
Dean considered that for exactly one second. "Nah," he said. "Still getting creepy vibes."
Sam rubbed a hand over his face. "Dean, even if he does have weird hobbies, that's not our problem. We're here to stop a ghost, not judge the guy."
Henry took another bite before speaking again. "You know what's funny though?" he said. "Imagine if he actually is a psychopath."
Dean glanced at him through the mirror immediately interested now. Sam looked concerned instead.
Henry continued casually, "Like imagine we spend all night protecting him, save his life, and then two months later he murders somebody."
Dean blinked once. "…okay, that's dark."
"But logically," Henry continued while gesturing with the shawarma, "then what exactly did we accomplish? We saved future victims' killer."
Dean slowly nodded like he hated how much sense that made.
Sam stared at both of them. "I cannot believe this is the conversation we're having right now."
"I'm just saying," Henry replied. "Morality gets complicated."
Dean pointed slightly toward the backseat. "See? This is why I like talking to him. He asks the important questions."
Sam groaned quietly and looked back out the window before either of them could make the conversation worse.
"Come on, Sam," Dean said with a grin. "Henry kinda has a point."
"Dean," Sam replied tiredly, "stop talking."
Before Dean could answer, a face suddenly appeared beside Sam's window.
Sam flinched hard in his seat while Dean instantly reached for his gun.
"Hi, boys," Bela said through the glass with a pleasant smile.
Dean lowered the gun slightly after recognizing her. "Bela?" he asked, confused. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"You know," Dean added while opening the door slightly, "I was this close to putting a bullet through the window."
"Cute," Bela replied smoothly.
She opened the back door and slid into the seat beside Henry without asking permission.
Henry looked over mid-bite, shawarma still in his mouth.
Bela stared at him for a second. "…wow," she said. "You actually eat like a child."
Henry kept chewing while giving her an unimpressed look. "Mind your own business."
Dean looked between them immediately suspicious. "Okay, why are you in my car?"
"Well," Bela said casually while crossing one leg over the other, "you're welcome, by the way, because I took it upon myself to research the ghost ship you lot are investigating."
That got Sam's attention immediately.
Bela handed over a thin file.
Sam opened it while Dean leaned closer to read.
"The ship's called the Espírito Santo," Sam read aloud quietly. "According to records, one of the sailors was executed for treason." His eyes moved lower down the page. "After death, they cut off his hand and turned it into a Hand of Glory."
Bela leaned back slightly. "Which means," she said smoothly, "if you burn the hand, the haunting ends."
Dean immediately looked toward Sam.
Sam gave a small nod after scanning the rest of the file. "She's right," he admitted. "That matches the lore."
Dean narrowed his eyes at Bela anyway. "Okay," he said slowly, "and why exactly are you helping us?"
That was the real question.
The last time they dealt with Bela, she cared about money first, second, and probably third too.
Sam looked at her carefully now, equally suspicious.
Bela noticed immediately and gave a faint smile. "Can't a girl perform a good deed once in a while?"
Dean snorted. "Not you, no."
"Well," Bela said lightly, smoothing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I'm doing this for my own benefit. Though I was hoping one particular person might've noticed that already."
Her eyes shifted directly toward Henry.
Dean immediately looked between the two of them.
The silence inside the Impala changed instantly.
Dean's expression slowly turned suspicious. "Okay," he said carefully, "did something happen between you two?"
Henry looked genuinely offended by the question while still trying to finish chewing his food.
Bela answered before he could.
"Oh, absolutely," she said smoothly. "We spent quite a bit of time together in the sea." A faint smile appeared on her face. "Very close together, actually."
Henry immediately choked on the shawarma.
Dean turned fully around in his seat. "What?"
Sam looked concerned for entirely different reasons now.
Henry coughed hard once before glaring at Bela. "You evil little—"
Bela looked delighted with herself. "What?" she asked innocently. "I'm simply describing events accurately."
*****
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