Based on a promp by Carekogunyel, who wanted to see what would happen if 'While hunting for Sam and Dean, Hendriksen finds and reads the Supernatural books'
Beta-ed by the most awesome Jackfan2
JUDGING A BOOK BY ITS COVER
As Victor Henricksen, FBI agent through and through, drove from his office in Chicago to Little Rock, he couldn't help but smile.
Always a man to trust science and good old hard work, he was sort of surprised when plain dumb luck landed the break he was desperately looking for, right on his lap.
When he gets his hands on the Winchesters, Victor figured that he should really buy something nice for his dentist, as a thank you. You see, he's the reason why Henricksen knows exactly where the Winchesters will be next. And he's the reason why Henricksen is driving there even before the call arrives, to let him know that the Winchester brothers have been arrested in a museum break-in, in Nebraska.
Ever since the bank robbery in Milwaukee, like a hound in search of that next whiff of something, Victor had been hunting them. Given their survivalist upbringing and the way they'd easily overpowered those SWAT guys, he'd known they'd be good at evasive tactics, but he hadn't expected them to be that good.
And he certainly hadn't expected them to be characters in a book.
When Victor Henricksen sat in his dentist's waiting room, fuming because he was wasting his time there, but unable to leave because his bottom left, back tooth was actually slowly killing him dead, he hadn't expected to look at the table and see a ratty copy of a book with what looked like a fairly approximated drawing of him. In Milwaukee. During the bank robbery.
Half out of curiosity, half out of boredom, Henricksen had picked the book up, his eyes scurrying through the title 'Nightshifter'.
Surprise didn't really cover all bases when he went through a couple of random pages and found his name and some pretty accurate descriptions of things and events that were part of 'eyes-only' files at the FBI quarters. Found things that no one was suppose to know.
And the weird assed cherry on top of all that? The book had been published a full year before all of those things had ever happen.
It was a typo. It had to be a typo, but still the FBI man was curious enough to palm the book and take it home with him. It was only the dentist's fault, for taking so long, that stuff got… misplaced… from his waiting room.
He read that book from cover to cover that very night. Strange, he'd thought as he read through the worn pages, the Winchesters were never once indicated by their last name. Instead, they were only referenced as Sam and Dean, but the descriptions, if a little cheesy, were clearly them.
The 'brooding, yet sensitive look of Sam's puppy-dog gaze', the 'shaggy bangs of brown, lustful hair' and the 'tall and muscular body, fit to parade as a Greek god' could be trimmed down to describe the gangly looking kid in need of a hair cut that Victor had seen in the photos on his file.
And he guessed that the 'luminous green eyes' and the 'sinfully full lips' and even the 'bowlegged walk' could sort of be used to describe the beady gaze and that smartass mouth on the older of the Winchester brothers. The bowlegged thing was even accurate.
It took the FBI man a five-minute search on the net to find out what he hadn't been able to in five months. It was a series of books, all by the same author, starting two years ago… and every single one of them had perfect descriptions of every one of the crimes that the Winchesters had committed, down to the crossing on the T.
Several theories had been made about the source of the brothers' income. They were wanted for credit card fraud, that as certain, but the more Henricksen read about their ridiculous adventures (seriously, who writes about killer bugs these days?) the more he was convinced that this Carver Edlund was probably one of the Winchesters... maybe even both.
Victor had no idea how they were doing it, he didn't even want to think how they were doing it, and he certainly couldn't tell his colleagues ihow he/i had gotten his intel, but everything was there, even if masked by some weird-assed tales of shapeshifters (who apparently were to blame for both the killings in St. Louis and the bank robbery), ghosts, vampires and even demons. It was crazy on a toast, but the toast was all that Henricksen could hope for. Because every other damn detail fit.
So, who was he to judge is the Winchesters wanted to confess everything in the guise of Harlequinish books?
He parked his car in front of Little Rock's police station and waited for the call he knew would arrive. The name of the book where he'd read it from was 'Folsom Prison Blues', so Victor already knew where this was all ending up.
He couldn't wait to just see the looks on those guys' faces when he walked through that door, just a few minutes after they'd been processed. Victor wished he could carry a camera inside. It would be memorable.
And what if he never got to read the end of that book? And what if he'd taken off as soon as he read the sentence 'Sam and Dean kneeled on the floor, their hands cuffed behind their back'? It was just a book. It'd served its purpose.
The Winchesters were trapped now, and Victor was going to make damn sure that they stayed like that forever.
Victor Henricksen, FBI man, smiled when his phone rang. This was it.
The end