Master of Puppets
Notes:
We actually created this account years ago to upload some of our older stories, but we somehow never managed ;)
Now, Narya and I (Leandra) want to use the opportunity to post our first Supernatural fanfic over here.
Title: Master of Puppets
Chapters: 1 of approx. 6-9; Part I of a series of 5 stories that are supposed to end Season 3 'our way'.
Timeline: Starts after 3x11, Mystery spot
Rating: R or M overall. We'll never be more explicit than the show itself.
Pairings: None yet in this part of the series, but implied het-pairings.
Summary: In Fayette, Mississippi, Dean and Sam investigate a lethal accident at a local puppet theater... But they're not the only ones who are trying to find out what's been going on.
Further Notes: Thanks a lot to our beta-reader Pia. She is, unfortunately, no native English speaker, so in case you find anything odd, any expressions Americans wouldn't use (we've only written BE before) or any other mistakes please feel free to correct us. Constructive criticism is always welcome
Another note on the story/series itself: As you can see we're bringing in two female characters for our boys to work with. We've taken a lot of effort (and Mary Sue Litmus tests g) to make them interesting, believable and individual characters with strengths and quirks.
Master of Puppets
The familiar rumble of the black Impala was almost drowned completely by the persistent drums and guitar riffs sounding from the car radio. Sam had long ago given up on trying to get Dean to turn the music down just a little, so, now, he put his energy into once more going over the articles they had downloaded.
This morning they had left the diner near the motel they had spent the night in with new directions. The routine search for news on the internet had provided them with something that just had 'paranormal' printed all over it – at least if you knew what you were looking for.
Dean seemed to be confident that his brother would find all the important details they needed; he had grown accustomed to do so over the course of the past few years. While he often pretended to be in charge of the tasks that required strategic planning and preparation for a fight, he gladly left the research for Sam – probably also because he preferred driving to reading through newspaper articles and blog entries. Right now the older Winchester seemed perfectly content with just nodding his head in rhythm of the song, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. Just good he wasn't singing, too.
"Eeeexit light, eeenter ni-ight!"
Never rejoice too soon.
Sam sighed and shut his laptop. "Dean."
His brother raised his eyebrows as he looked over at Sam, giving him his best 'I have no idea what you're talking about' look. "Yeah, Sam?"
"Shouldn't we be there already?" he asked, taking a look at the landscape outside.
"Still a few miles to go. Why so impatient, Sammy, can't wait to see the puppet theater?" Dean asked with a smirk.
Sam just rolled his eyes. "You were the one who said that we should go see the show."
Dean just gave him a grin and focused on the road again. Eyes following him, Sam saw a sign that indicated they had 8 miles left to Fayette, Mississippi. "So, what do you think it is?" the older brother asked then. "Ghost maybe? Found anything on that?"
"Not really. I mean, that Newell guy is the only one that really got killed. Previously, we have just a head wound – officially because he tripped – and another one with a knife injury."
"Yeah but what about that family? What's the name again? The owners of the theater?"
Before answering Sam reopened the laptop to take another look at the online articles. "Sumpter. A father and two kids, they run the shows together. But for the time of Newell's death they all have alibis, at least that's what the articles say. So they have no clue what could've happened."
"And what about the mother? Anything on her death, or is she still alive?"
"They don't mention her at all, except for saying that he's a single parent. So I guess she's out of the picture."
Dean shrugged. "Not if she died recently. Could be her ghost trying to prevent the family business from getting sold. Guess we'll have to find out."
"Right." The younger Winchester brother slid down a little in his seat and took another look out of the window. "Shouldn't be too complicated."
"So, what should we wear for the theater?" asked Dean, and the mischievous smirk on his features as he first looked down himself and then to Sam indicated nothing good. "Suit and a cocktail dress?"
"Jerk."
This time, Dean's grin almost looked like that of a little boy. "Bitch."
And Sam couldn't help smiling just a little, shaking his head softly. If he could just get that grin from his brother these days, Dean could say just about anything he wanted.
xOxOx
About three hours later, they were sitting on the old yet comfortable seats in the small theater, watching the show. Neither of them was wearing a suit (and of course no cocktail dress either) but had simply picked a better shirt to a pair of jeans, each. The other audience, many of them families with children, also weren't dressed up in purely formal fashion. Despite Dean's yawning and whining about the lack of popcorn and coke, Sam even enjoyed the show.
The children were watching the string puppets wide-eyed and beaming, following every move of the elf puppet as it argued with its goblin companion whether to help the treasure seeker and his son on their quest or not. Nevertheless, Sam tried to keep an eye on what was happening off stage, checking for anything even slightly out of the ordinary among the audience or behind the small stage. Until now, it didn't seem that way though.
"You know, if this was realistic, the goblins would eat the kid", Dean remarked, checking his watch to see how long he'd have to endure the play. "Five minutes and this should be over."
"You wish," Sam grinned as he checked his watch. "Another ten, no less. They still have to find the treasure after all."
He just loved the look on his brother's face right now.
Dean rolled his eyes. "First fairy tales and now puppet theaters. Something you wanna tell me, Sammy?"
"Just shut up, you're razzing the kids."
Dean grinned, his only entertainment for the evening at least slightly fulfilled.
Twelve minutes and a couple of exasperated sighs from Dean later the play was finally over, and the audience of about sixty people erupted into cheerful recognition. Unlike at a big theater show, the people responsible for the program seemed more than happy to meet their guests. Especially the children were delighted to drag their parents towards the stage where they could see some of the puppets up close.
Sam took his jacket, stood up and looked over to Mr. Sumpter who had come out from behind the stage with his two teenage children. "Alright, let's go talk to them."
Nodding, Dean followed his brother the few steps down towards the stage, heading straight for the owner of the theater. But before they even got the chance to greet him, Sam spotted two girls approaching the man. They both looked around the same age as Sam and Dean, maybe slightly younger. The first girl who was just shaking Mr. Sumpter's hand in greeting had long, slightly unruly chestnut brown hair while the other was blonde, her wavy mane tight up in a loose pony tail. She stood beside the brunette, smiling, but waiting.
"Cute", Dean smirked beside Sam which caused him to roll his eyes. Still, he had long ago learned to get used to this, so he simply said, "You can ask them out after we've talked to Sumpter."
"I might just do that", his brother replied, eying the girls from afar. "I just don't know which one yet. Blonde or brunette. Ah well, I can always just ask both."
"You're unbelievable. Just don't forget why we're here," Sam replied, though his attention was focused on Mr. Sumpter. He and the two young women had distanced themselves a few steps from the remaining members of the audience, and Sumpter's expression was more serious now.
"You know what Sammy?"
"What?"
"You need to get laid."
"What?!"
That had certainly done it, his attention was back at his brother.
"Woah dude, has it been so long that I need to explain it to you?" Dean replied as if he was being serious.
Lost for words,Sam stared at him. "Why, again, are we talking about this?"
"I'm just worrying about you is all." Again, he did sound sincere, but the twitching along the corners of his mouth betrayed him. "Come on, let's go down there and see if we can kill two birds with one stone," Dean nodded towards Sumpter and the two young women, but when Sam looked in the direction,he could clearly see that the owner of the theater looked anything but happy. One hand reaching to his forehead,he let his shoulders slump. The brunette girl seemed to react and laid one hand on his arm in a comforting or apologizing gesture, Sam couldn't tell. Sumpter, however, drew back from the contact, shook his head and raised one hand as if to tell them he wanted to end the conversation, whatever it had been about. The girls exchanged a brief glance, nodded and gave Sumpter a final smile before they turned around to leave.
Seeing their chance to talk to the man slip through their fingers Sam quickly reacted, starting to make his way through the last remaining people. "Mr. Sumpter?"
The man looked at them for a brief moment, but then he shook his head, giving them a half-hearted smile. "I'm sorry. I need to get going", he said, and even though Sam didn't know what Sumpter's voice normally sounded like, it seemed troubled right now.
"We just wanted to congratulate you on that really entertaining show", Dean quickly added, trying to convince the guy to stay and talk, but to no avail. Just muttering a quick 'thanks', accompanied by another fake smile, he headed onto the stage, disappearing behind the curtain.
"Now that went well," Dean said, his tone dripping with dry sarcasm.
Sam shot him a glare. "Thanks to today's love interests of yours."
Dean just shrugged but then furrowed his brow. "Hm. I wonder what they said to him."
Slowly Sam put his jacket on, both of them already on their way back out of the theater. "If you ask me, I'd say they talked about the murder if you think about his reaction, but then again why should anyone ask him about that?"
Again, Dean shrugged. "No clue. Maybe just those nosy kind of chicks who want to give their two cents on everything," he suggested. "Guess we'll have to come back another time."
Nodding, Sam followed his brother towards the lobby and the exit.
They were the last ones to leave the theater, stepping out into the fresh evening air. The sun had just set, the sky appeared in shades of pale blue and grey.
Sam stopped, a sudden thought in mind. "Maybe they were cops."
"Nah, too young and too cute", Dean stated, expression dead serious but eyes glinting waggishly.
Ignoring the last comment Sam just replied to the more factual assumption. "Hm, yeah. And cops probably wouldn't have watched the show."
"Mulder and Scully would have", Dean replied as they walked towards the spot where they had parked the Impala. Before they reached it, however, Sam felt Dean's hand briefly smacking his upper arm and then saw him pointing his chin to the other side of the street. On both sides of an old, cherry-red Buick stood the two girls, arguing about something for a moment before they both got into the car, the brunette girl on the driver's side, and drove off. "Cops or FBI agents don't have cars like that, though", Dean added, and Sam could only agree.
"So what now?"
"I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's go to that diner we passed earlier."
With another glance at the theater behind him Sam nodded, hoping that despite not having talked to Sumpter today, this mystery would be solved quickly. He still had other things to worry about after all, no matter how often people told him that there was no way for him to save his brother.
xOxOx
"We're not gonna eat here again." With a grumpy snort Dean shut the door of the driver's seat, starting the engine when Sam had sat down as well. "That burger was the worst I've ever had. Tasted like rotten rat or something."
Seriously, one deserved to have a decent meal at least once a day when they had only eight more weeks to live, right? At least the fries had been somewhat edible.
"Well, hopefully, we'll not be here too long anyway, in case there's no other possibility to eat something around here," his younger brother answered, making himself comfortable in the passenger's seat.
"There's this pizza parlor near the theater. I say we have lunch there tomorrow. Hey, do we have some of those Butterfingers left?"
"No, I ate it this morning after you stole the last muffin while I was sleeping", his brother said in a slightly accusing tone
"Dude, you ate the last Butterfinger?" Dean inquired, eying his brother with raised eyebrows. "Would you eat my last meal, too?"
Sam's glare changed from playfully angry to really pissed as he looked at his brother. "Screw you, Dean. Why are you making jokes about this?"
Dean had noticed his mistake in the moment he had finished his words, but now it was too late to take it back. He wasn't in the mood for apologies either because they'd lead to touchy-feely confessions and admissions, and he'd had enough of that. "Why shouldn't I?" he asked, trying to sound resigned but ending up exasperated.
"Because I fail to see all fun in it," Sam answered, audibly angered. "And I hate how you always fall back into that damn 'I don't care about anything' attitude."
Turning to his right with a little more speed than needed, Dean refused to look at his brother, focusing only on the street. "What the hell am I supposed to do, Sam? Whine and cry about it all day? Would you like that better?" He hadn't meant to yell but couldn't quite prevent his voice from rising a few notches.
"I already told you, I just want you to be yourself! I'm tired of your charade which I can see right through anyway, and you already conceded with that, so I don't know why you still keep it up. I sure as hell hope not for me."
Sam's hand rose to his forehead, and Dean recognized it, along with his expression, as a sign of an oncoming headache.
"Oh no, Sam", he replied, voice softer again but his tone not completely free of unnerved bitterness. "It's not always about you, you know? This is about me, and the only option I got right now is either ignore it or laugh about it. Pretending it's not happening would be too much to ask, even for me, so I take the only option I've got left."
Sam was silent for a moment, and the frustration, anger and apprehension hung between them.
"So does it help?"
"Not if nobody's laughing at my jokes", Dean answered, trying to raise the mood again with a smirk along his lips that wasn't completely genuine. He hated fighting with his brother like this, when it was serious, and especially in the context of his upcoming death. Sometimes he thought that maybe it would be better if they talked this all out, talked about everything that came to their minds, shared their feelings and all that crap, but then again, even though Dean would never admit it, he was scared of that. Scared of pondering this too much, scared of not being able to enjoy the remaining time he had because all he'd be able to think about was fear and devastation.
No, cracking a joke here and there definitely was the better option.
His brother sighed, but obviously he also had cooled down a little, even if Dean knew that he was not exactly feeling better.
"We still have two months left. And Ruby said that she could help you. Next time I see her I won't let her off the hook that easily."
For a split second Dean considered telling Sam the truth, relieving him of the useless hopes he still held up, but then again he just couldn't. Instead,he turned his head towards his brother and gave him a weak smile. "Yeah, you do that. You're good at talking with girls. She won't deny you anything." The smile turned into a smirk.
Sam returned the glance, just raising an eyebrow.
Dean chuckled. "Oh come on, don't tell me you haven't thought about it. You'd make a nice couple, you two. Sure, she's a little evil but that'll only make it more interesting."
"You don't really want me to hook up with a demon, do you?" the younger asked, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"She ain't no regular demon", Dean answered. Of course he wasn't serious about Ruby, he didn't even like the bitch, but somehow getting to know her had provided him the only thing that kept him from desperation: she had never lost her humanness completely, even after centuries in hell.
"Yeah, luckily. Otherwise our chances really would diminish to quite a sad pile of nothing."
"Yeah", Dean said, not knowing what else to add. Sooner or later he would have to tell Sam the truth, but he hoped for Ruby to take over that job for him. Maybe it wasn't fair, but he preferred his brother being angry with that demon chick over him. "So, what do you wanna do tonight?" he asked, driving onto the parking lot of their motel. Before Sam could give an answer, however, Dean's eyes spotted the red Buick they had seen earlier. "Dude."
Automatically Sam's eyes followed Dean's gaze, and his brows furrowed. "Now what, they're in the same motel?"
"Seems like it."
Brow furrowed, Dean got out of the Impala, having parked just two lots away from the Buick, a Century model, as he could see now, the ones that were built in the mid 70s.
"Perhaps they just know the family and came for a visit," Sam suggested, having followed Dean out of the car.
"Then why are they staying at a cheap motel? And what was Sumpter so upset about earlier?" It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. "Maybe they just didn't like the show." Shrugging and deciding not to ponder about those two girls and their reason for being here any longer, Dean headed for the motel room. "You didn't drink the last few beers, too, did you?"
Obviously,Sam saved his breath on that question, just making a non-committing motion with his hand, as this question was rhetoric for both of them.
"Good, then let's have one and see what's on TV," Dean suggested, unlocking the door to the room. Judging from the looks of the motel they might just have a few more channels than just the ones with porn. Not that Dean would've minded porn, generally, but he kind of preferred watching it alone.
xO TBC Ox
Please let us know what you think, and we'll post the second chapter.