All the Wicked Little Things Pt 2
Fandom: Supernatural/CSI X-over
Pairings/Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Bobby Singer Gil Grissom, Jim Brass, Katherine Willows, Nick Stokes, Warrick Brown, David Phillips, OCs, (John/Bobby, Sam/Dean, Gil/Nick, John/OFCs (rape) Nick/OFCs (rape)
Ratings: FRAO
Warnings: M/M sex, bondage, rape, violence.
***Note***This is a dark fic, it contains angst, violence and young adolescent girls engaged in the sexual torture and rape of several adult men, including one girl raping her own father.
Gil Grissom rolled over onto his back listening to the steady breathing of his bedmate. The deep sonorous snoring was broken by tiny muttered phrases that made no sense, but they were music to his ears. He was surprised by how much he enjoyed what to others would be a nuisance. But this noise issued from his Nicky, the love of his life. It had taken Grissom too many long years to find love not to savor every minute of it.
A tiny smile played at the corner of his mouth as Gil slid across the bed wrapping an arm around the younger man's waist. Nick started, stretching and yawning before slowly opening his eyes. Gil knew he had a dopey look on his face just from the younger man's expression, but he was damned if he could do anything about it. Nick just laughed at him, and Gil tugged the pillow out from under his lover's head dropping him flat on the bed before pouncing on him. Nick grunted as the solid form of his lover flattened him then grabbed Gil by the arms, wrestling him over onto his back.
"You think you can beat me old man?" Nick snapped as Gil fought to free his arms. "Think again because I am indefeatable…"
"Indefeatable isn't a word, Nicky," Gil said with a mock frown. Nick rolled his eyes.
"Indefeatable is too a word, besides I'm trying to get some action and you're correcting my grammar. Come on dude!"
"It's indefensible…that's what you were looking for…" Gil groaned as Nick's strong fingers worked their way into his briefs grasping at his ever growing erection. With an evil leer the younger man gave a tug, and Gil's hips jumped forward.
"No man, that's what I was looking for."
Shaun Monsoor looked at the folded sheet of paper in his hands. On it was the address of one of his students. Carol Parker's father had passed away just a few days before and an announcement had been made at the school that morning. Shaun had copied the little girl's address from her permanent files and called her mother that morning offering his condolences. The mother, of course, had been distraught and Shaun was heartbroken for this family. Carol was a bright girl, good in math class, which had surprised him, and he had felt guilty about feeling that way, but something about her just set his teeth on edge. Maybe it was the luminous doe-eyes that seemed to stare straight into him that made Shaun feel so ill at ease with the child. Still he would not let that keep him from supporting one of his "kids".
Now that he was at the apartment building his stomach felt jittery. Shaun had never lost a loved one; his family had been blessed by good health and common sense enough to avoid drunken driving, drug abuse and other pitfalls, so he could not even imagine what it felt like to lose a father. He loved his father dearly.
Taking a deep breath Shaun pushed the door to the lobby open and walked into the dimly lit building. He found an elevator and punched the button for the seventh floor. Seven fourteen was down the hall, two doors on the right and directly across from the freight elevator that was a common fixture in these older converted buildings. From what he remembered this particular building had once been a hotel.
Hesitantly Shaun knocked on the door. There were a few moments of silence then the door swung inward and he was face to face with Carol Parker. Flinching Shaun stepped back, somehow he had expected her to be grief stricken but she only looked wary and maybe a bit expectant.
Smiling Shaun stepped forward.
"Hello Carol, is your mother home? I called this morning to ask if I could just stop by for a few minutes."
Carol smiled and the man felt his stomach flutter, was her look just a little too expectant? But he walked into the room when she stepped back.
"Mr. Monsoor, my Mom just went out for a few minutes to pick up pizza. You can wait in the living room."
"Maybe I should wait outside," Shaun said hesitantly but the girl was taking him by the hand and leading him inside. He was relieved to see that they would not be alone. Several other girls Shaun remembered from campus were also waiting in the living room. The tallest of the girls smiled at him holding out a can of soda.
"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Monsoor?"
Carol looked down at the slack features of the man sleeping on the sofa. Mr. Monsoor was tall and thin like her father, but he was younger as well. Maybe ten years younger, from his looks. And, like her father, he had dark brown hair, although she couldn't see what color his eyes were. Still there was enough superficial resemblance that she thought he could pass.
Bernice was standing behind her, looking over Carol's shoulder and that irritated her. True, Carol had started the cult when she found the book at the old book store off the Strip, but Bernice was moving in, trying to take over.
Taking a handful of the man's hair the taller girl tugged his head upwards. Carol flinched. She didn't like this careless cruelty that Bernice seemed to be falling into. Nodding to herself Bernice dug an elbow into Carol's side.
"I think we can move him. I put a lot more of the sleeping stuff in his soda too. So he won't wake up like your father did. We should be able to get finished with him before your mom gets home."
Carol nodded then motioned the other girls over. Chaney moved into place beside Bernice and the smallest of the girls, Joan went ahead in the hallway then sent word back to drag the man to the elevator.
They had gone down to the basement and cleared off the spot just like before. The ropes were in place. Shaun was not as heavy as her father and the five girls could move him with relative ease. Just like the last time Carol lit the candles and they laid Mr. Monsoor on the ground.
His clothes were loose; dress pants and a button down shirt, easier to deal with than her father's skin tight jeans. Chaney tugged the zipper down quickly grinning as they uncovered his bare groin.
"Hey, who knew that Monsoor was a commando kind of guy?" she snickered. Bernice grinned at her.
"You got to finish with Mr. Parker so you have to go last this time. It's my time to go first."
With steady hands Bernice took the vial of drug and the hypodermic needle injecting Shaun once slowly making sure that all the clear fluid left the needle. The girls huddled around dressing quickly in their robes while waiting for the drug to work. When it looked like the man was ready Bernice straddled him, grunting as she sank down on his erect length.
"Ouch," she hissed, gritting her teeth.
A nervous giggle ran through the assembled girls as they watched her rise and lower rhythmically. Shaun didn't move overtly and the girl had to stop several times until finally she grunted triumphantly, "He did it. I felt it."
Rising up she stepped back. Carol surveyed her teacher's body.
"Why is he still, you know…like that? When my dad…finished… it went away."
"I don't know. Maybe 'cause you dad was older or maybe I gave Mr. Monsoor more of the stuff. One of you other girls do it too, maybe it'll work again."
Joan moved closer to the young man's prone form.
"I want to, it's my turn. But I need that stuff, the slippery stuff."
Carol fished the tube of lubricant out of the bag that held their ritual articles, handing it over. Joan's face twisted in disgust as she squirted a dollop of clear gel onto the man's stomach then smeared it over his penis. She looked down at the slick, shiny organ, red and glistening then frowned.
"Are you sure it's okay?"
"Yeah," Carol hissed, "Go ahead, I think he'll do it again. It might take longer, at least that's what I read."
The smaller girl nodded raising her robe above her knees then dropped down on the man's body. She frowned again.
"He feels cold; his skin is cold and sweaty. This is gross."
Bernice moved to the smaller girl's side.
"What do you mean he's cold?"
Joan looked down at the still form of the man lying beneath her. Suddenly her face twisted into a grimace.
"I don't think he's breathing."
Uttering a shrill scream Joan pushed away from Monsoor's body then shuffled nervously toward her clothes. Carol dropped to her knees placing her hand on the teacher's chest. Eyes wide she looked up at the taller girl as Bernice stooped down beside her. Carol's chest heaved.
"He's not breathing. I think he's dead. How much of that sleeping stuff did you give him?"
"I don't know! Five maybe six pills. I didn't want him waking up."
"Well he isn't. We've got to get him out of here. What should we do?"
Bernice shrugged.
"I don't know. Maybe if we dump him in the alley outside the loading dock the fresh air will make him wake up again."
Carol looked skeptical. "I don't think so. But we can dump him out there. It's close."
Standing quickly she began shedding her robe and pulling on her street clothes. The other girls followed suit. Finally they stored all of their belongings in the crate and rolled Shaun Monsoor's body out of the way as they covered the symbol on the floor with the almost empty crates.
Carefully the girls wrestled Monsoor's clothes onto his body. He lay still, skin going a blue white color and Carol was sure that he was dead. Her stomach clenched in fear; they had killed two men now. Why was the goddess so angry with them? They were new to this, just beginning to form a coven and perform rituals. Maybe they had started off too advanced, maybe she was angry that they were fumbling through this process of getting her a new body. Carol was determined not to have another meeting until they had done more research and found out just how much sleeping medication to give the next man so that he survived the ritual alive. She had never wanted to hurt anyone.
Nick looked up from the table he was standing beside as Grissom walked into the room. From the scowl on his lover's face he could tell that something had happened that had caught Gil's attention. Leaning back, arms crossed over his chest the younger man offered Grissom a grim smile.
"Something came in?"
"Yeah, I want you and Warrick to go back to that apartment building on Tenth. Someone reported another DB in the alley behind the building."
Now Grissom had Nick's full attention. "The same alley as David Parker?"
"No, a rear alley, near the loading dock to the basement. The guy was found behind a garbage dumpster when the trash collectors came by this afternoon. Phillips is already heading out there."
Warrick was already at the scene when Nick arrived. He took a quick turn into the alley then stooped down beside the other CSI. Warrick shrugged as he clicked another picture. Turning to Nick he grunted, "I called the coroner's office. David's on his way over. You know this is starting to get a little repetitive."
Nick nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm beginning to get a feeling that there is something really weird going on. I mean two DBs in the same location within three days? This is too much to be a coincidence."
Warrick knelt down gently turning the body's head. "His skin is cold, clammy and he has slight cyanosis. It looks like a drug overdose to me."
Nick shook his head. "Could be, we'll have to wait to see what the coroner says."
"Yeah, I see Phillips coming now. I got all the pictures I need for now. We'll go over the site after they move the body."
The body on the table had been identified from his driver's license. Phillips looked down at the young man lying on the cold steel table. He bore a striking resemblance to David Parker, although if Phillips looked past the blue/grey tint to Monsoor's skin he could see that the younger man would have had slightly darker coloring. Still the hair and eyes were almost identical. That disturbed David, not only because he was sure that they were dealing with ritualistic killings now, most likely a coven of Cybele worshippers, but it meant that the cult had a "type." And David knew several men, Nick Stokes among them, who were personal friends, who also fit the description.
His autopsy had been detailed and Monsoor had faint traces of paint transfer on his back as well, meaning he had been raped in the same place as David Parker, but, unlike Parker, Monsoor had not survived the encounter. Although the toxicology reports were still out on Monsoor David had seen the tox results on Parker, and he had flunitrazepam in his blood as well as three other drugs, papaverine, phentolamine, and prostaglandin E-1 all used to treat erectile dysfunction. And since no one had turned up a prescription in Parker's name David was willing to believe that the women who had raped him had the drugs. He was also willing to believe that Shaun Monsoor was going to have the same drugs in his body as well. Time for another phone call.
Bobby muttered a curse under his breath as he wrestled his cell phone out of his jeans. Casting a glance at the man driving the truck Bobby huffed a breath in a long suffering sigh. His shoulder banged up against the truck door and he was back to cursing again, finally directing a few choice words at John Winchester when the man let out a hearty laugh.
The pick-up wobbled around a curve and Bobby held on for his life. He threw an offended glare out the window at the tail lights of the Impala careering down the highway some five hundred yards or so in front of John's big black truck. What the hell was wrong with these Winchester men anyway? Bobby wondered. Did they all suffer from lead-foot syndrome?
The voice on the other end of the line didn't put Bobby in any better of a mood as the younger man he recognized hissed into the phone.
"Where the hell are you?"
Bobby huffed out a breath then snapped, "We're on our way. What happened?"
David cast a quick glance at the door. "We turned up another victim. He had paint trace on his back, not as clearly defined as David Parker but the same symbol. And this victim had the same types of ligature marks on his wrists and ankles. Also Parker's tox reports came back; he had several drugs in his system including erectile dysfunction drugs and Rohypnol. Also Parker had injection sites on his penis and this victim has one as well. Parker also had vaginal secretions from three female contributors on his penis. I took swabs from the second vic. I should have reports back soon, and I'll call you when I know if the second victim was killed by the coven."
Bobby nodded sighing.
"Yeah but I'd say chances are we are dealing with the same group of women."
Carefully folding the phone Bobby looked over at John.
"David says they turned up another man. Looks like the coven is hell bent of performing this ritual."
"We'll be in Vegas tonight. Call Sam on your phone and tell him to plan on digging up every article on the two deaths that he can find. We'll search the building tomorrow."
It was close to midnight when the two vehicles finally pulled into the parking lot of a small motel not far from the Strip. Dean got out of the Impala stretching his back and casting a mournful glance at the bright neon glow coming just over the horizon. He shot his brother a smug grin and gallantly bowed Sam to the stairs. They lounged a few minutes on the lower step waiting for their father and Bobby to come out of the rental office. Bobby was carry two sets of keys in his hand strolling along behind their father with a look on his face that the two younger men had grown so very familiar with. Dean snickered behind his hand and Bobby thrust his middle finger up in a jaunty salute that sent Sam off into hysterical giggles.
John failed miserably at hiding a smile behind his grunted curse then sighed.
"Have you two been drinking?"
Dean slapped his father on the shoulder and leaned around him grasping a set of keys to one of the two rooms before tossing them to Sam. John tried to intercept the keys.
"Hey, wait a minute! Those might be to our room."
"What difference does is make?" Dean asked snidely and John frowned at him.
Taking a deep breath Bobby steered the younger man to one of the two side by side doors and opened it with a flourish.
With a stern glare John watched his sons disappear inside the room. He stood beside the door for a few minutes until Bobby finally came back out and herded him into their room. The older man began stripping down looking at the bed with open relief, but John paced a few feet to the window. With a disgruntled sigh Bobby cast one more longing look at the neatly turned down covers and the soft looking bed. Rising, he walked over and slid his arms around John's waist leaning in to whisper against his ear,
"Let it be, John."
"How can I…you don't understand… they're my boys."
"They're as much mine as they are yours. I helped you raise them for twenty-two years"
Turning around in Bobby's arms John closed his eyes.
"Then how can you just accept what they're doing. It isn't right…they're brothers."
"Bullshit John! It's as right as anything else we've seen in along damn time. They're just doing what you raised them to do."
With a muttered growl John pushed Bobby back and away.
"I didn't raise them to do this. I raised them to be…"
"Your perfect little soldiers? You raised Dean to look after Sam, to give everything he has for Sam. And he's just doing it. Whether or not you like the way he does it, it ain't none of your business."
"They're my boys!" John snapped.
Bobby grinned, tugging the other man into his arms again. Leaning forward he pressed a kiss on John's angry, tense lips.
"They ain't boys any more, not by a long shot. They need this, John. They need each other and you need them. So what are you gonna do? Force Dean away from Sam? Because if you think you can you won't just lose Sammy this time, you'll lose them both. So I'm telling you let it be."
John groaned banging his head against the older man's shoulder. Wincing, Bobby held steady until finally, all the fight went out of John like water draining through a sieve. Casting a quick glance at the wall between the two rooms he surrendered and followed Bobby to bed.
Later that night Sam struggled awake. Dean was wrapped around his back and Sam shrugged his older brother off, panting as he shoved the blankets down. Sweat dripped in his eyes and his hair was plastered to his neck. Taking a deep breath the young man rose, stumbling into the bathroom. Muttering under his breath Sam ran the tap and splashed cool water over his face.
Walking back to the bed Sam paused wondering just what had awakened him until he caught the faint low, groaning sounds from the room next door. A frown crossed his features, these weren't the kind of sounds that Sam was accustomed to hearing from his Dad and Bobby's room and he knew that John was having nightmares again. Just as the sounds grew louder the youngest Winchester could hear the smooth, soothing sounds of Bobby's voice.
Crawling over Dean Sam climbed back into the bed he was sharing with his brother. It was nights like this that Sam wondered if he shouldn't just go back to Stanford; leave it all again. Although since Bobby and John had mended their relationship Sam had actually gotten along better with his Dad than at any other time in his life. Until he realized that John knew about him and Dean.
Now his relationship with his older brother troubled Sam even more. Not because he feared his father's reaction to what was happening between he and his brother, so much as their father was keeping quiet, holding his feelings in and it that was why John's nightmares had returned.
Dean rolled over, grunting when Sam's elbow came down hard in the middle of his chest.
"Hey what was that for?"
Sam grinned at him even though he wasn't sure that there was enough light or Dean was truly awake enough to see it. Shoving a knee into Dean's back it scooted the other man over enough for him to reclaim his warm spot then settled back listening to his brother's mumbled grousing.
The sun was already burning hot and it was only nine o'clock in morning. Warrick's breath hissed out between his teeth in a rattling sigh as he bent, examining the area on the dirty pavement where Shaun Monsoor's life had ended. There was no blood, no overt signs that anyone had died in that very spot and that puzzled Warrick because Shaun had been cyanotic, cold and clammy and although the toxicology reports had yet to come back Warrick was sure that the man had died of some kind of a drug overdose. Yet most of the commonly used street drugs caused vomiting, and except for an oily stain on the pavement there was nothing. So, maybe Monsoor had not died of some street drug?
He knew that Nick was somewhere in the alley behind him and still Warrick flinched when a meaty palm landed on his shoulder. He cast a disgruntled glare at the other man and Nick laughed.
"So, whatcha thinkin'?"
Warrick grinned in spite of himself then shrugged minutely.
"I'm thinkin' that Monsoor didn't die here. Look at the ground oil, and crud from the garbage, but his clothes were clean."
"So someone dumped him out here?"
"Yeah, I think so, and that means that he died inside the building somewhere. First David Parker takes a swan dive off the balcony and now this guy gets dumped in an alley. What's the common denominator?"
Frowning Nick propped himself against the wall, wiping a hand over his forehead. Quickly he glared up at the sky. Pulling a bottle of water out of the bag hanging at his side he took a sip then bent down staring at the ground at their feet. "It's the opposite side of the building from the Parker's apartment, but close to the loading dock…maybe he was killed in the corridor or the freight elevator."
Warrick shook his head.
"Too visible. The corridor is not well traveled but they still use the freight elevator to move stuff up from the basement."
"So the basement?"
Warrick nodded. "As good a place as any I guess, especially since David Parker was raped. The basement would be a dark, out of the way place for a sexual assault."
"So we need to search the basement and check to see if Shaun Monsoor was raped as well."
Nick followed the other man into the building and down the corridor to the freight elevator. They waited until the huge double doors opened and Nick punched the button for the seventh floor.
When the doors opened again they walked out into the hallway. The Parker's apartment was there, just a few doors down. As Nick stooped down he checked the elevator door for fibers. Warrick stepped passed him and moved to the door of the Parker's apartment also inspecting the frame again. They had gone over the doors to the apartment before but not the elevator.
With a grunt Nick pulled his water bottle out taking a sip before moving to the apartment door. Suddenly Warrick's cell phone rang and he moved a short distance away to answer it. With a frown he turned to Nick and waved the phone. Nick looked up.
"Hey Nicky, I'm going to have to go over to the lab. Can you finish up here?"
Nick grinned motioning to the still open doors of the freight elevator. "Well I don't know there's so much to process…"
Warrick shot him a look then stifled a grin behind the phone. Finally tucking the phone into his pocket Warrick walked past the other man to the main elevator to the main lobby. Nick watched him disappear down the hall then turned back to the freight elevator. He hummed tunelessly to himself for a minute before spotting a hair on the floor. Carefully Nick pulled an evidence bag out of his pocket and tweezed the hair out of the carpet fibers before dropping it into his bag.
The sound of a door opening caught his attention and when Nick turned around two girls were standing in the hall staring in his direction. When he looked up at them the taller of the two girls smiled. Nick felt his stomach lurch. Something about her toothy grin felt wrong to him. Flushing he bent over hoping that they would go inside, and when he looked up again the girls had disappeared into the apartment.
Carol leaned against the door, looking at Bernice. There were one other member of the coven already in the apartment and it was just a coincidence that the two older girls had come by. Still Carol took it as a good omen. Quickly she jerked her head toward the door, and the man in the corridor beyond.
"He looks an awful lot like my dad, maybe he's the one."
Bernice cocked her head, and then shrugged.
"Maybe, he does fit the description in the book, but Joan isn't here. Can we do it with just the four of us?"
"The book doesn't say that all the members have to be present every time. I think we're okay. And don't give this one so much of the stuff we don't want him to die too."
Bernice nodded grudgingly as Carol hurried back to her bedroom fetching her yellow silk bag. Carefully she drew out a small brown bottle. The taller girl took four pills out and walked into the kitchen. A large oak cutting board lay on the counter and the girl placed the pills onto the board then slowly began grinding them into a fine powder. Once the pills were reduced to powder Carol scraped them into a small pile and pulled a can of soda out of the refrigerator.
TBC