A/N: With all the thematic parallels, I just feel like these fandoms were made for a crossover. Probably a longer one than what you see here, but I'm certainly not ruling out coming back to the idea. Given that I don't think we've seen the full realisation of Richie's powers yet, I am leaving the ending somewhat vague. I think after this Richie and Seth will need to have a talk. And maybe so do Sam and Dean.
Shortly post-S2 finale for FDTD. More generic timeline for SPN, but assuming the shows run in parallel, some time during S11.
All SPN characters property of the CW, and FDTD property of the El Rey network.
Things aren't going according to plan.
Dean shields his head and braces himself as a barstool shatters across his spine. The shockwave rattles through him, and he grits his teeth against the pain and throws out his hands in search for a weapon. With his gun out of reach he'll take anything: a cracked pint glass, an errant pool cue, a broken chair leg… That last one proves fruitful. His fingers close on splintered wood and he tries to twist to stab in his enemy's direction, but the blow doesn't land before a strong, forceful grip closes on his wrist and wrenches it back.
Granted, there'd never been much of a plan.
The first rumors of a bar in Texas run (and overrun) by vampires seemed a bit much like drunken ramblings even for them, but after some digging it had checked out. Culebras. Relative of the vampire native to Mexico and Central America. Stake through the heart actually works on these fuckers. So they'd called at a timber yard to arm up and headed south.
Dean had been expecting a brawl. Hell, that was par for the course, but given the number of vamp nests he and Sam had taken out before without trouble, he hadn't been expecting it to be this close. Sneak attack on an almost deserted bar just before dawn should have been easy. What Dean hadn't anticipated was to somehow find himself disarmed and pinned to the floor with the muzzle of his own gun pressed under his chin. Well, shit.
Intense dark eyes lock onto his and they both glare, though Dean knows the threat is real enough not to struggle. He goes still.
A beat passes before Sam's voice sounds out across the bar.
"Get your hands off my brother, or I'll put a bullet in yours."
The man pinning Dean glares for a second longer, and then turns his head in Sam's direction. The action reveals the design of a stylized flame tattoo on the side of his neck, and Dean has chance to wonder why his face seems familiar before his own gaze turns to Sam. In almost perfect symmetry, his own brother has another man, dark haired and pale, pinned against the bar with a Glock pushed firmly against his chest. There's another moment to wonder how Sam can tell they're brothers and why that man's face seems familiar too, before Dean turns back to his own attacker. A small yet disconcerting smirk has settled on the man's lips.
"A bullet's not gonna hurt him."
Sam's gaze hardens and he jabs the gun in further. "Hollow point. Sawdust mixed with gunpowder, straight to his heart. You wanna try it out?"
That draws a flicker of uncertainty. Dean watches the man's gaze scan over his brother once again, who seems strangely unperturbed. "Relax, Seth. He's not going to hurt me."
"You wanna be all calm and zen, Richie, that's great, but they came here with specialized bullets. That's ringing alarm bells for me."
Seth and Richie. That feels familiar too, and suddenly Dean thinks he has a vague memory of a pair of mugshots on a late night TV bulletin several towns back. "About time the Geckos found an alarm they couldn't disable. You don't seem as dead as they said on the news."
Dean suddenly has Seth's full attention again. The gun digs harder into the soft flesh beneath his jaw. "Yeah, alive and kicking. Now, tell me who the fuck are you? Who sent you?"
"Stop talking." Sam responds before Dean has chance. "I said let him go."
That gets another glare from Seth. "You first."
Dean's general distaste for all things monster has soured further into outright contempt. It's one thing to be a decent guy unlucky enough to get turned into a vampire. What these two are is something else. "So what's the deal? You couldn't kill enough people when you were alive, so you faked your deaths to get the cops off your back?" Dean snipes.
His words draw a laugh from Richie at the other end of the room: cold, sarcastic. "Funny. A few years back, I could have sworn I heard the same thing about the Winchesters."
There's a beat. The gun at Dean's throat ought to have done it before, but it's that sentence that only now makes him uncomfortable. Not that he and Sam aren't used to being recognized. There's many a monster and demon who knows the name Winchester, but Dean prefers it when they have their hunter reputation to thank. It's been years since the Leviathan shit caused them trouble. He guesses that if anyone's going to be keeping track of the shit that goes down with serial killer bank robbers, it's other serial killer bank robbers.
The words strike a nerve with Sam too. The younger Winchester's shoulders tense, and his fist curls tighter in Richie's shirt as he pushes the gun deeper between his ribs. "Whatever it is you think you know about us, I guarantee you're wrong."
Richie's amber eyes narrow to a cold glare. "Yet you seem so sure you know everything about us."
"I know enough," Sam snarls, and it's not often Dean's heard his voice this menacing. "I know you're culebras, I know you're serial killers, and I know I'm still waiting for your brother to stand down."
Seth takes the hint, and retaliates. "And I'm still waiting for you to tell me who the fuck you two are."
"You want to know who we are, Seth?" Dean spits. "We're the bastards who kill monsters like you."
He's in no position to be threatening, but he has hubris. It's still not enough to get more than a smirk. "Big talk for a guy being held hostage with his own gun."
"Yeah, well, you might want to take a look at your brother."
Seth doesn't get chance. Dean moves.
It's reckless, but the one thing he has going for him is that it takes Seth completely by surprise. The hand not pinned by Dean's side comes up, and he swipes the gun out from beneath his jaw just as his head rises to butt hard against Seth's nose. They both feel the crunch as it impacts, and then Dean's scrambling to his feet again as they grapple for control of the gun. Looks like the Gecko has enough trigger discipline not to waste bullets, but Dean still needs control of his own weapon back.
He's reaching for the splintered chair leg as a backup when Richie makes his own move.
The younger Gecko is faster than Dean. There's definitely something inhuman in the way he moves, too swift for Sam to even register before suddenly his captive's out from under him. By the time Dean wrestles back control, double measures of gun against Seth's temple and makeshift stake at his chest, Richie already has Sam at his mercy. His fingers tangle in Sam's hair, pulling at his head to expose the line of his neck as extended fangs hover inches from skin. They're right back on opposite sides of the same stalemate as before.
Dean realises as much with a sudden jolt of horror. He meets Richie's reptilian eyes, the scales forming on the man's face sending shivers down his spine. His lips curl. "Bastard."
It's disconcerting how coldly calm Richie seems as he stares back. "You threaten my brother, I'll threaten yours. You say you kill monsters, Dean, but what do you plan to do with him? He's only human like you."
"Bullshit." Dean's trying to win the staring contest of intense glares, but at the same time he can't help but glance to Sam. They briefly make eye contact. "You expect me to believe those guys we staked at the door were human too? Impressive turning-to-dust act, there."
Seth grunts as he briefly struggles against Dean's hold on him. "Believe me, pal, if I were a culebra, I'd have ripped your throat out by now."
"That meant to convince me not to kill you? You're a serial killer. Seems damn close enough, to me."
"Dean!" Sam's voice cuts in. He sounds almost shocked, and Dean's surprised by the look on his face as their eyes meet again. "He's right. We're hunters, not vigilantes. If he's human, we can't kill him."
"So, what? I'm meant to let him go so brother dearest over there is free to kill you? I don't think so."
"You let Seth go, Richie lets me go."
"Or they both just decide to kill us." Dean turns his glare onto Richie again. "Culebra or not, he still decided to throw his lot in with them." He doesn't see Seth's scowl, but hears his retort.
"Yeah, believe me, I'd have preferred my brother never got turned into a bloodsucking freak too." He only seems half apologetic for saying it in front of Richie. "But he's still my brother."
"He's a monster," Dean snarls back. "And if you were a decent man, which you're not, you'd have killed him before he had chance to harm anyone else."
It's Richie who replies. "That what you'd do to your brother, Dean?" His voice is soft. Dangerous.
Dean suddenly feels a chill as he realises what he said. No, he never would. He's been there, and if it were Sam he thinks he'd sooner kill himself than end his brother's life. But this…this is different. Somehow.
"We could test it out, if you like." Richie continues in the same tone of quiet menace. "I could turn him right now." The snake-like fangs extend further, lowering far enough to lightly graze the skin of Sam's neck. Dean thinks he sees Sam shiver.
Anger suddenly boils hots inside Dean's chest. It contrasts strangely with the icy pit of fear that's opened in his stomach. "You do that, and I swear to God…"
"You'll do what, Dean?" Richie cuts him off. "Seems to me like you've already decided we deserve to die. You're gonna kill us anyway. Why shouldn't I take Sam with me?"
Dean feels a sudden surge of adrenaline course through him, panic threatening to manifest on the outside as he fights to stay in control. He's breathing heavily; enough so that he's sure Seth can feel it. He tries to calm his breaths as he levels his eyes at Richie in a challenge. "That bar fight here, a couple months back. How many people died?"
"How many of them lived?" Richie shoots the question back almost instantly, and Dean blinks. "We let people walk out of here alive. You're not the only one here with standards on who you are and aren't allowed to kill."
Dean scoffs. "Seems to me like you play a little more fast and loose with yours."
"Maybe." Richie doesn't seem to give it more consideration than a tilt of the head. "But all I want right now is to run this operation without hunters making more trouble than we already have, so I'm going to give you the same opportunity." The scales on his face recede a little, eyes turning back to their natural color. For a moment Dean thinks he almost looks human again. "You let Seth go, and you and Sam can both walk out of here alive."
It doesn't win Dean over. "For some reason, I don't trust you."
There's barely a beat before Richie's eyes flash angry yellow again. He tugs harder on Sam's hair, lengthening the stretch of his neck, and Dean feels his stomach jolt as Sam gives a grimace. His brother's eyes seem to be trying to reason with him. Or maybe argue. "Dean, we've let vampires walk before…"
"They're literal felons, Sam."
Something flickers in Sam's eyes. It catches Dean off guard, suddenly spiking his adrenaline as he wonders what he just saw. He could swear his brother's eyes just flashed white, and no way in Hell was it Sam that did it. Confused, his grip on Seth tightens as a coil of fear begins to tighten in his gut.
Something's not right.
Without warning, Richie lets go of Sam's head. In an instant, Dean's aim shifts to level towards the vampire, Seth almost forgotten as he focuses on the bigger threat…
Then he freezes as he catches sight of Richie's outstretched palm. In the center of it is an eye. It stares at him, its gaze wide and penetrating, and Dean has no choice but to stare back.
In his mind, he hears a voice. "I'm not asking. You're going to let Seth go and walk out of here. Forget this place ever existed."
The world turns in silence for a heartbeat, and then reality asserts itself again. Dean's hands fall to his sides.
Seth stumbles away from him and spits out an insult, and then levels another glare at Sam who's just stepped free from Richie's grasp. The Winchesters face each other, oblivious to the other pair of brothers in the room. "Sammy, I think we should get out of here," Dean says.
"Yeah, we should," Sam agrees.
Without another word, the pair of them turn and head for the door.
Only once they're out of sight does Seth turn back to his brother, relieved to see his face looking human once again. Whatever newfound power his brother has, it still makes his skin crawl. That eye in Richie's hand sets warning sirens screaming in Seth's mind, makes him want to put a bullet of his own right through it, but at least this time, it's the reason they're both still alive. And neither of them had to spill blood. "You couldn't have done that from the start?"
Richie smooths his jacket as he turns back to his brother, seeming nonplussed. "Normally I have to be touching them. This time...seemed like I could get through to them both just from touching one brother. It just took longer."
Seth blinks, confused. "It works like that now?"
That gets a strangely casual shrug. "I guess. If they're brothers, they share blood. It always has something to do with blood."
"Right." Seth wonders if he finds that more unsettling than it should be. Brothers are always each other's weakness. He knows that too well. "I'll make a note of that."
