A/N: BleedingCrimson here, thank you for taking an interest in this Supernatural fic, this is co-written by me and CrazyCousinEiko, she's wonderful and should get your praises as well. Her account has a couple things co-authored by me that isn't on here and her solo stuff is great too. Enjoy!
"I had a great time tonight," said a tall, rather dashing young man as he flashed his date a smile, though his eyes were roving up and down her body in an unsavoury fashion rather than meeting her gaze. "Though why stop the party now when we're having so much fun?"
"Hm," the woman muttered sleepily; she was a little intoxicated, though it was most likely done on purpose, getting her drunk, for further... persuasion. The man helped the woman stay standing with an arm around her waist and led her from the taxi into his home. She was stumbling, thoroughly sloshed, as he brought her to his abode. The man unlocked the door and let the both of them in. Her eyes were a little dull from all the wine, but she could stand on her own for a while.
Ushering her into his bedroom, he began undressing before realizing that she had passed out on his bed. An angry growl sounded all throughout the room, and it hadn't come from him. He whipped around, looking for whoever- or whatever- was in his house. He fumbled about his drawer for the gun he kept there. Nevermind that the weapon was illegal or that he had no clue how to use it. He just knew that guns were scary and deadly.
He tiptoed through the hallway and into the living room. To anyone who might have been watching, it would have been almost comical if not for the chilling noise emanating from somewhere in the house. The man shook- he was quite a coward, really- and had only enough time to see the window hanging from its latches when he felt searing pain across his back. He fell to the floor and thrashed, screaming, as something tore his insides out.
"I'm telling you, Dean, this looks like a hunt!" Sam argued, pacing back and forth across the seedy hotel room. Some days he wished they could afford something nicer, but it was all a part of the job.
"All you've shown me is a couple unrelated deaths in the middle of urban nowhere," Dean drawled, getting a little annoyed at his brother's insistence.
"But each of their hearts have been ripped out of their chests, they've all been mauled to death like from an animal, and from what I've seen, it looks like they're all around the same area."
"Whoa, you didn't say their hearts were all ripped out- now that sounds like a hunt."
"Werewolf."
"Or werewolves." And with that reassurance Dean scooped up his belongings and headed to the car. Time for a hunt.
Metallica was pumping from the speakers of the car racing around a bend in the road. It was going about five miles over the speed limit, but they wouldn't have to worry about cops or their ilk until they passed the next town. Almost an entire day's worth of driving would get them to "urban nowhere," as Dean had so aptly put it before.
Other than the music, the car was permeated with silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable; neither of the brothers had anything left to talk about. That would have to wait until they reached the city for the Hunt, until they had some more clues as to what they were dealing with. It seemed pretty obvious to the both of them; however, things so straightforwardly arranged had a tendency to go pear-shaped in the worst ways.
Which is why they weren't surprised to see a crowd of bystanders and emergency vehicles when they rolled into town. Dean parked the car on a nearby street. The two got out and casually walked to the crime scene as if perfectly unaware of what had just transpired. Dean nudged his brother.
"Hey, Sammy, check out that hot chick over there."
Sam looked at his brother doubtfully. "You mean the one wearing the orange shock blanket?"
Dean grinned. "Yeah..."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Focus, Dean."
"I know, I know," the older brother replied, walking vaguely in the woman's direction. Sam sighed and walked toward one of the more knowledgeable looking bystanders.
"Excuse me, sir, but can you tell me what's going on?"
An old man with more wrinkles than Sam could count looked at him with a surprisingly sharp gaze. "The boy who lived here was murdered last night. Rather violently, too, like some animal got 'im. Serves him right, though."
Sam raised an eyebrow, which further encouraged the man.
"He was always bringing girls home. Pretty ones, like her, but obviously..." He struggled for a phrase for a moment or two, "not fully in control of their faculties. Knowing him, he probably filled their glasses a few times too many. He was a downright bastard, he was. The poor girl over there woke up this morning to find the window open and his corpse splattered all over the floor. She'll be having nightmares for years after this, I expect. Such a shame..."
He shook his head. Sam inwardly wished all of the people they had to get information out of would be so forthcoming.
"Sir, what was the man's name?"
"Tony Renshaw. Thought he was the best thing since sliced bread."
"Thank you, sir." Sam dipped his head and went to see if Dean was having any success. He wasn't surprised in the least when he found Dean "comforting" the woman in the shock blanket.
"I'm Koren, Koren Callahan. I'm sorry we had to meet under such unfortunate circumstances," Sam overheard the woman saying as he walked up. Her accent was Irish, just heavy enough to distinguish but not enough to really turn her words into an unintelligible slur. She clutched the blanket closer to herself in an effort to stave off the chills in the warm morning air.
"Ms. Callahan, My partner and I need to ask you some questions, if you don't mind." Sam added in his two cents before his brother could say anything else, likely not any help for their hunt.
"Yeah, that is fine, but the police already took my statement. Were you lying when you said I wasn't a suspect?" Her voice became smaller and colder all at once. Neither of the brothers was entirely sure how to deal with a quiet sort of anger and so were wary about how they stepped.
"No, ma'am, we're just hosting a side investigation, and in the end we'll collaborate our findings with the other team." Koren nodded and looked back to the ground. Dean took over from here. He was usually better at remembering what needed to be asked anyway; he'd done it for long enough.
"What do you remember of last night?"
"Well, he seemed like a nice guy, and our first date wasn't terrible, so I said yes when he asked me out on a second one." She glared at her feet dangling off the edge of the ambulance, making her look a little like a petulant child considering how small she looked compared to the vehicle. "I didn't realize it then, but every time I looked away, he had refilled my wineglass so I never noticed that I drank more than I should have. Especially thinking that I hadn't even polished off a single glass."
She sighed and continued. "I really don't remember much after that. We took a cab here, and he let us in, I was on the bed the next moment, all I remember is being entirely confused about that, and then it was morning, and I had a massive hangover." Koren squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could until white spots flew behind her eyelids, and still the image wouldn't leave her.
"It was horrible. If I was any kind of drunk left, it sobered me up right fast. There was blood everywhere, except on me. Reached all the way to the opposite sides of the room, but somehow no blood or... guts landed on the bed where I was. It was very odd, now that I have time to think about it. But still, it was quite the frightening sight, and I screamed, loudly if what I'm told is right." She looked a little sheepish at the revelation but soldiered on with nary a blush to bring any color to her bloodless face, "I dialled 911 in a panic, and the next thing I know I'm being carried out of the apartment by a policeman and wrapped in this horrendous sea of orange. That's all I know, I'm sorry."
"Thank you for your time," Dean said politely with a nod. Sam cut off his brother before he could flirt any further,
"We shouldn't need anything else. We are sincerely sorry about all of this."
"No, it's fine. I just hope they catch the thing that's doing this soon..." Koren pleaded softly to their backs, still not really looking at them.
"What do you mean, thing?" Dean about-faced at the odd wording; maybe she knew something more than she was telling. Always a possibility.
"I mean, that it can't possibly be a human that's done this, it's just too brutal and animalistic. There's got to be some sort of explanation to all of this, and I want to know what it is, especially..." Her eyes were bright and confident and pointed directly at the Winchester brothers for the first time. Dark brown and full of everything, worldly some would say, world weary would she. Even as her voice faltered her eyes stayed alert. "Especially because it's been following me, I think."
"You think...?" Sam asked quietly.
"They were all my... dates."
"Now, that is interesting," Dean murmured to his brother. Sam only nodded, quietly gears whirred in his head, trying to put this new piece in place on the puzzle. There seemed to be something else she wasn't telling them, but it was obvious that they would have to gain her trust before she said anything more.
"Do you think..." Sam said slowly, choosing his words carefully, "Do you think that perhaps this thing will eventually come after you?"
"I... don't know." She said, her words halting, and it was obvious she had thought about it before. "It hasn't ever shown itself to me. No unexplained anything or even shadows on the walls. It's all rather odd, only going after the men after I've gone to sleep or they leave."
Sam and Dean shared a look. This was definitely a job.
It was late. It was late and the Winchester brothers were still awake. That was no surprise given their chosen job, but still, it was past midnight and nothing had happened. Yet. That one word was enough to propel them through the night. 'Yet' was such a powerful word, and it could mean just about anything, from good to bad, and in their line of work it wasn't a word they liked to hear or use often if they could help it, though usually they couldn't.
"So, what do you think it is?" Sam asked, long since having settled into the passenger seat of the Impala. "From the looks of those corpses earlier, it definitely didn't look like anything human killed them."
"Definitely not. That'd be one twisted bastard if it were. I'd say it was a werewolf."
"Yeah, that seems about right, with the ripped out hearts. But there's something not right here... Maybe a Black Dog?"
Dean nodded. "Maybe..."
"Interesting how it only attacks men she's gone out with, though..."
"Yeah, and how she doesn't fall under suspicion of anyone despite being near the scene of the crime."
Sam looked over at the house, which was still quiet. "I mean, what would her motive be? Maybe one or two of them made a move on her that she didn't like, but unless she has some vendetta against men, there isn't really any reason it would be her. Besides, she doesn't look strong enough to command anything that would do that kind of damage."
"No, though she does look very-"
"Focus, Dean," Sam interrupted, rolling his eyes, and snapping his fingers in front of his brother's face.
"What? I am." Sam sighed but didn't argue. He didn't feel up to fighting his brother.
The night was long, and they had nothing to show for it once it was over other than tired eyes and an intense need for caffeine.
A yawn split Dean's face as he shielded his half-closed eyes from the bright, morning sun. That had never been something he enjoyed. Sure he was fine with stakeouts, but what really put a damper on his mood was the sun coming up so cheerily at the end of it. Sometimes he really wanted to just shoot at it and see if he could put out the sun permanently. Then he'd rethink that, because there would most definitely be a lot more monsters to fight if it actually worked...
"C'mon, let's go get something to eat," Dean said, driving away from the house. Sam mumbled something in acknowledgement, too tired to form coherent sentences. Neither saw the unnaturally dark, shadowed face peek out of the curtains and watch them drive away.