And I am soooo excited that Season 2 is on! It is very lovely. Here is CHAPTER 2!
"Dean…" breathed Sam, face pale. It was rather like Sam's mind was at a standstill. Like he just couldn't get past the huge, grey-green eyes staring at him from the front of the courtroom. The hair, the build, even the walk, to a certain extent, was Dean.
Needless to say, Dean was having a hard time with the situation as well. That guy, that supposed murderer, was him, HIM in nearly every way.
"Dude, we gotta do something!" Dean hissed at Sam. The murmurs had died down. Most of the people's attention had been taken by the appearance of Jake Gray.
"Dean, what are we supposed to do? I mean, what can we do?" Sam hissed back, but never taking his eyes from Gray.
"I dunno, but that guy has got to be that shapeshifter who impersonated me a while ago. I thought we killed it, but… there it is." Anger tightened Dean's jaw and compressed his lips into a thin line. Because of that damn thing, Dean Winchester was officially dead. And that pissed him off.
Sam frowned, glancing at his older brother. "I don't think it is. Jake Gray grew up in this town. Everyone knows him. Well, maybe a shapeshifter could have impersonated him, but people would have noticed if he suddenly changed his appearance. Man, he just looks like you."
Dean still looked unconvinced. "Sammy, I'm good looking, I'm not gonna lie. But… two different people who look EXACTLY like me, that's a bit much, even in our world." He darted a glance back to the front of the room again, forehead creased as he stared at Jake Gray.
"Dean! Think about it. The shapeshifter has got to shift a lot. You've seen what it leaves behind. Think maybe the cops would notice big piles of goop and blood and gore in Gray's cell?" Sam frowned. "There has got to be something weird going on here, though. I agree with that. So shut up and listen, see if we can find out anything."
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"I still think it's a shapeshifter."
"Please! Give me a break. Did you not listen to anything that went on in there? Everybody in this freaking town has known Jake Gray since he was born. That guy in there, cult murderer or not, is Jake Gray." Sam slid into the passenger seat of the Impala.
The brothers left the courtroom a little early in order to avoid any confrontations. All they had learned was that there were massive amounts of evidence that pointed to Gray as the killer, but there were gaping holes in the defense, as well. Most of the people in the town just seemed to be incredibly shocked that their good ole' boy baseball player and straight-A student turned psycho cult murderer.
"Whatever, man. When people start walking around wearing your face, let's see how easygoing you are." Dean started the Impala, still looking cross. Pulling out onto the main highway, he pushed in an AC/DC cassette. Shoot to Thrill blared from the speakers. Sam, irritated, leaned across the black leather and turned down the volume.
"So." Giving his older brother his best puppy-eyes look, the younger Winchester leaned back against the seat.
Sighing, Dean gave a long blink. "Well, we need to get a visit with this guy. Hear his side of the story. Talk to other people in the town. But first, we gotta come up with a story to explain me. Long lost relative, maybe?" Glaring at Sam, Dean quickly spoke again. "We're just doing this so we can figure out if he's a shapeshifter. But God help me, if I'm right, you'll never hear the end of it."
He turned the music back up. Sam hid a grin and looked out the window, scanning for a cheap motel.
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"Well, you see, Jake and I haven't seen eachother since we were real little. My aunt always told me how much we looked a like, but I guess I never really believed her, till now." Shrugging sheepishly, Dean directed his 100-watt smile at the woman behind the counter.
About to smile back, the woman caught herself. Affixing a stern look to her face, she glanced at Sam and asked, "And who is he again? And how was that that you and Gray are related?"
The Winchesters were at the prison, hoping to arrange a meeting with Jake Gray. Sam stepped forward. "Ma'am, I'm Alex, Scott here's brother. We're second cousins, twice removed, of Jake." If it had been any other person, the woman behind the counter would never have believed Dean's hastily contrived story.
But Sam, with his big puppy eyes, could charm anything and anyone. That little voice in the back of Dean's head insinuated, 'Isn't it weird, how little Sammy always gets his way? Those visions, his powers… Hmmm, wonder if they've got anything to do with it?' Dean always shoved that voice down, pushing it into farthest corners of his mind, where other things lurked, pawing at the edges of his consciousness.
Giving Sam a smile, the woman glanced at the computer in front of her. "Well, if you're willing to wait about 45 minutes, I think I can set up a visitation." She typed in a few things, then glanced back up. "If you don't mind me asking, why the need to see him?"
"Well, ma'am, we'd like to think that Jake's innocent. If he is, he's gonna need all the support from his family that he can get. Seeing as how there's not much of his family here anymore, well…" Sam gave a small, forced and sad smile. "It's terrible, all this that he's gotten caught up in."
"Oh Lord, honey, I know. My sister was Jake's math teacher in the 8th grade, and we all had such high hopes for Jake. Did your aunt tell you that he was president of his senior class? He's played baseball since, oh, I don't know, he was about five years old." The woman shook her head. "I just want to know how he got mixed up in all this devil worshipping. And his poor parents…"
Dean and Sam glanced at each other. Speaking quickly, Dean asked, "What about Jake's friends? Did you know anything about them?"
The woman shook her head again, picking at the cracked counter with her fingernails. "I didn't really know them. You know, you just hear talk, around town and all. They followed Jake everywhere, though. Ever since they were little. I'd imagine that anything that Jake did, they'd do it too."
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The rest of the 45 minutes had passed with Sam and Dean learning only about the woman's trouble making ten year old. Breathing sighs of relief, the Winchesters followed the security guard to the visitation room.
Squeezing into one of the tiny booths, Sam and Dean pulled a battered black phone from either side of the booth. Dean was tense, and for an inexplicable reason, nervous.
The brothers straightened as they heard the footsteps of the guards and prisoner. Jake Gray, not looking much different than he had in the courtroom, sat down on the other side of the scratched glass and picked up his own black phone.
"Who the hell are you guys?" Gray's voice cracks, his red, tired eyes darting back and forth between Dean and Sam. His hand, so close to Dean's, grips the phone, knuckles white.
Dean opened his mouth to give Jake their cover story, but Sam jumps in before Dean can say anything.
"Jake, we want to help you. We know your story, and we believe you. That demon that you claim killed your parents and friends, well, my brother and I kinda deal with stuff like that."
Dean and Jake shared the same looks of disbelief. If the situation hadn't been so, well, strange, Sam would have laughed.
"So let me get this straight. You're some demon hunter and you want to help me out. Right. Well, thanks for the offer, but I think I'll just rely on my lawyers to get me out of this mess. But, don't get me wrong, you look really, uh, qualified." Jake's voice is tired, and he shakes his head, studiously ignoring Dean.
Dean frowns and growls lowly into the phone. Screw subtlety and Sam's wishy-washy crap.
"Alright, listen up. I'm only gonna say this once. The courts and the general public tend to not be real big fans of satanic cult murderers. And right now, everything points to you being the killer. And your whole claim of demonic murderer will not hold up because demons tend to not leave behind a whole lotta hard evidence. Everyone thinks it's bullshit. We are your only hope for getting out of here." Losing the seriousness that Dean had only moments before, he added, "Besides, what's it gonna hurt to let two whack jobs get their jollies, thinking they're solving a murder?"
Jake leaned back. Sam could practically see the gears turning in his head.
Picking up the phone again, Gray leaned forward and asked softly, "Why does he look like me?"
Exchanging glances, Sam said, "We don't know."
Ends in a weird spot, I know. Oh well. This took me forever to write, as I'm sure all of you realize. There's more to come. I have no idea how long this fic will be. Hope everyone liked the second chapter.
Jake's demon mom knew about THE demon, and planned to make Jake just like Dean b/c he's strong and I dunno, hardcore. Would make a good bad guy.