Supernatural – Heart of Gold
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural in any way. I do own (as far as I know) Professor James Larry. Unless there is someone at Stanford University named James Larry, in which case this is merely fictional and I do not own him in any way. I also own Igor (in name only) and Summer Vegar.
Author's Note: Woohoo, two chapters in less then six hours. Let's see how quickly I can get the next one up. And supernaturalfan0718, while I am pleased you've added this fanfic to your favorites and your alerts, would it hurt to send me one little, itty-bitty review? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it might motivate me to write faster.
Chapter 2 – Dreamer Unmasked
Three hours later, and neither brother could find anything, except that each of the victims had gone to Stanford University at some point or another.
"So, what, is it just killing of students randomly?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged. "I don't know. But whether it is or it isn't, we've got to find it, and we've got to kill it." He said. Dean looked over at his brother with a mixture of surprise and curiosity on his face.
"Well, this is a nice change of attitude." He said. "What changed your mind about being here?"
"Nothing," Sam said. "I'm still a little uncomfortable about being back here. But if this thing is killing off students at the University, then my friends are going to be in danger."
"Friends?" Dean repeated.
"Yeah," Sam said. He gave his brother a puzzled look. "What, you thought I spent the entire time studying and going to class?"
"Uh… yeah." Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes, turning back to the laptop.
"Our one problem is that we have no way of figuring out who its next victim will be." He said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say they were just completely random."
"What makes you think you know better?" Dean asked.
"Nothing, really, just this feeling I have." He continued typing on the laptop. "Hmmm… here's something I didn't see before." He said, turning the laptop around so Dean could see. "All of the students that were killed were attending this Psychology class, taught by Professor James Larry. There's even a man who was taught by Professor Larry about twenty years ago who was killed by this thing." He looked thoughtfully at his brother.
"You think maybe we've got a demonic teacher in our midst?" Dean asked.
"Could be." Sam said, nodding.
"Well, I think it's time we take a look around, Sammy." Dean said. He looked around the room in disgust once more. "It'll be nice to get out of this room for a while."
Sam rolled his eyes. "It's Sam." He corrected. "Let's go." He said, grabbing his jacket off the bed. Dean followed suit, and they headed back out of the hotel room.
They had just gotten out to the car when the sounds of sirens reached their ears. Dean exchanged a look with his brother, and they both jumped into the car, pulled on seatbelts, and the Impala roared out of the parking lot in the direction of the wailing sirens.
While Dean was driving, Sam was rifling through the assortment of fake IDs Dean and he had acquired over the past month or so. He eventually came across two they hadn't used in a while, and handed Dean's over while he replaced the real ID in his wallet with the fake one.
"Detective Jakobs?" Dean complained, taking his eyes off the road for a fraction of a second to scan the ID. "Man, that isn't even a good picture of me." He added, shooting a second glance at the ID.
"Live with it." Sam said, absently staring out at the passing scenery. It wasn't anything spectacular. Houses, trees, the odd store or two. He turned back to his brother. "You were the one who had them made; you've got no one to blame but yourself." He shocked himself along with Dean at how much he had just sounded like their father.
"Here we are." Dean said, trying to ignore the feeling of suddenly being twelve-years-old again, getting a lecture from their father about forgetting to load his gun with the proper bullets or whatever.
"Right, let's go." Sam said, unhooking his seat belt and climbing out of the car with Dean trailing along behind him.
About halfway to the door, they were stopped by a burly looking police officer who looked like he belonged on his couch watching the football, not wearing a police uniform and keeping a couple of young men off a crime scene. With a sigh, Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, showing the officer his ID.
"I'm Detective Simon, this is Detective Jakobs." He said. "We were driving through town when heard the sirens. We thought maybe we could give a helping hand." He looked the guy in the eyes, trying to see if he would believe their story. After a minute, he nodded.
"Nice of you to offer," He said, "we could use all the help we can get." He gestured for them to follow him inside, sending one of the younger men out to keep out any nosy neighbours or reporters. "You may have heard that this isn't the first victim."
Sam nodded. "Rumours, mostly, but they're saying that their victims show no external signs of injury."
It was the officer's turn to nod. "That's the gist of it." He said. "We're yet to find out how this girl died, but there's not a mark anywhere on her body to suggest foul play."
"Any idea who's behind these deaths?" Dean asked from behind Sam. The officer shook his head.
"No, not a one." He said. "I can't think of anyone who could do such a thing. Did you hear about the guy who was burned alive? His internal organs and bones had practically been burned to a crisp, but if not for the autopsy we never would've known." He shuddered. "Can you imagine, being burned alive from the inside out? It must've been horrible."
"Can we see the body?" Sam asked. The officer nodded, gesturing to a door to their left.
"I can't go in there. Too horrible to think about." He shook his head, wandering off, muttering under his breath about how horrible it must've been. Giving Sam a mock-scared look, Dean pushed the door open and looked in.
A girl in her early twenties was lying on her bed as if she had simply fallen asleep and not woken up again.
"Any ideas?" Dean asked, fishing through the pockets of his jacket for the EMF reader he'd built a few months before meeting up with Sam again. He flicked a switch and turned it on. They waited patiently for a few moments before deciding that the device was not going to pick anything up.
"So, where does this leave us?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.
"I don't know." He said. "I guess we go have a chat with Professor Larry, see if we can find out anything."
Fifteen minutes later, they were in the office of a man in his mid-to-late sixties. He looked kindly at the two boys over his glasses, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.
"Absolutely dreadful." He said, after the Sam finished describing the girl to him. "Her name was Alexis. She was one of my brightest students, had a lot of potential."
"Professor Larry, all of the people that were killed have attended your psychology class at one time or another," Sam said, "We were wondering if you'd noticed anybody behaving strangely in your class lately?"
Professor Larry's eyebrows rose. "You think one of my students could be behind this?" He asked, the shock evident in his voice. Sam nodded.
"And they all seem to have been taught in by you as well. Even Mr. Vegar, you taught him about twenty years ago, do you remember?" Sam asked. Professor Larry leaned back in his chair for a minute, thinking.
"Yes, yes I do remember. Igor Vegar, wasn't it?" He asked. He nodded past them to the girl that was busy stacking the shelves at the back of the classroom. She looked over her shoulders at them. There were dark circles around her eyes, and the eyes themselves seemed to hold years of pain and sadness as she looked at the two men sitting in front of her teacher. "Summer Vegar," Professor Larry explained. "Igor's niece. And one of my most prized pupils. She shows more potential then most of the other students put together. A pity she spends most of her time trying to learn to dance; she could make a very good psychologist if she'd only spend a little more time studying for it. Not to mention most of the other dance students across town treat her like second class because of her injury." He stopped, suddenly wondering if he'd said too much.
"What injury?" Sam asked, curiosity getting the better of him.
Professor Larry looked the two boys up and down for a minute, and then nodded, seeming to come to a decision of some sort. "Summer broke her ankle when she was fourteen; people said that her father had something to do with it –he wasn't a very nice man, I'm afraid- and that was why it took so long for her to get it seen to. By the time they did, the damage was too extensive to ever fully recover, the doctors said." He leaned forward again with a sigh, finishing his short tale. He looked at the two "detectives" closely. "Do you think she might be in danger? If this killer is targeting my students?"
"It's highly possible." Dean said, leaning back in his chair. He looked over at Sam, who seemed to be deep in thought. After a minute, Sam muttered something under his breath, just out of Dean's hearing range.
"Sorry son, what was that?" Professor Larry leaned forward. "I'm afraid my old ears aren't as good as they used to be." He said. Sam bit his lip, and repeated the word he had muttered.
"Christo." There was a crash behind them, and Dean and Sam looked over their shoulders, eyes wide as they saw Summer Vegar shooting a nervous look around the room before setting about collecting the books she had dropped the instant Sam had said that word.
The boys exchanged a look, and then turned to look at Professor Larry, who was shaking his head, apparently oblivious to what Sam had said.
"Poor girl, been on edge ever since her uncle's death," he said, "I can't imagine what it must be like to lose a family member; I heard they were very close."
"Yes, well, I think we've gotten all we came her looking for." Dean said, getting to his feet. "Thank you for your help, Professor Larry. We'll be in touch if we come up with anything new concerning your students." And with that, the brothers made a hasty exit from the classroom.
"Well, I think it's safe to say we've found our killer." He said as they hurried down the stairs. "What made you think of using God's name?" He asked.
"Well, most evil creatures flinch at the name of God." Sam answered. "I figured it would be a quick way to find out if Professor Larry was all that he seemed to be. I didn't expect to unmask someone else."
"Yeah, well, we need to find out how this chick is killing these people, and then we need to figure out how to stop her." Dean said as they reached the front doors of the university.
"Two problems. One: we have no idea where she lives. Two: We have no idea what she is." Sam said, opening the car door. "If we're going to stop her, that's one thing we definitely need to know before we break down her front door and try to kill her."
"That's what I've got you for." Dean said. "Time to do what you do best, Sammy."
Sam's eyebrow twitched. "It's Sam." He said. It was almost automatic to answer the name "Sammy" with those words now. He thought he might just die of shock if Dean ever intentionally called him Sam without panic in his voice. "What is it I do best?" He asked hesitantly.
Dean cocked a grin at his brother. "Research." He said. "While I go find a nicer place to stay." Sam smiled and shook his head as he realized Dean was driving them to the public library that was actually only a two minute walk from the University itself.
"I'll see you again in a few hours." Dean said as Sam climbed out of the car. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove off in the direction of the hotel.
Sam had spent the past two hours going through every book he could find on demons, spirits, shadows, and any other sort of creature he could think of that had any possible connection to the killings that had been happening. He was just about to take a break, maybe go see if there was a café nearby, when he found something.
Dream Leapers
Possibly one of the most fascinating of shadow demons, a Dream Leaper remains in shadow form until is has taken possession of a human body, at which point it forms an almost symbiotic link with it's host, using the hosts secret fears and hates to choose it's victims.
The Dream Leaper, as it's name suggests, kills it's victims by projecting itself into the dreams of it's victims, and bringing them to life inside their own subconscious, where it then kills then by turning their worst nightmares loose on them.
Due to the fact the damage is caused in a dream, the victim bares no external evidence of their death, but most often show twice as much damage then normal concerning internal injuries.
All the pieces had suddenly fallen into place. The fact that the girl, and probably all the victims, had been found as if they had simply fallen asleep. The lack of external signs of injuries. And it said that the demon chose its victims based on it's hosts secret fears and hates. If Summer was being treated badly in the dance classes, she was bound to have a few people she wished punished.
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his mobile, filtering through the list of numbers until he reached Dean's mobile. He hit the dial button, and waited for his brother to pick up.
"Sammy, that you?" Dean said as he answered the phone.
"It's Sam." Answered the younger Winchester. "I think I've found out what our demon is." He said.
"Yeah, what've we got?" Dean asked.
"They're called Dream Leapers." Sam explained quietly, looking around to make sure no one was listening. "They kill people by projecting themselves into their victims' dreams and then bringing their nightmares to life. They also choose their victims based on their host's thoughts, which means all of this one's victims must all be connected to Summer."
"Great, so if Summer works out that you were the one who disrupted her spring cleaning this afternoon, we're both going to have to live on coffee until we get rid of her." Dean said.
"I'm afraid so." Sam said. "Unfortunately, it doesn't say how to get rid of them. Can you take a look at Dad's journal before you come back; see if you can find anything on Dream Leapers."
"Will do." Dean said. "I should be back there in about ten… fifteen minutes, tops." He said.
"Okay, I'll see you then." Sam said, he pulled the mobile away from his ear and hit the end button, sliding the mobile back into his pocket.
"Okay, I'll see you then." Came Sam's answer, and then he cut the line. Dean sighed as he closed his mobile and dropped it into his jacket pocket. He leaned over and pulled opened his bag he had just spent ten minutes packing after finding a better place to stay for the next couple of nights, pulling out the clothes and assorted weapons. He pulled out the journal when he finally found it, and began flicking through it, hoping to find anything on Dream Leapers.
"He's going to have to walk home." Dean spun around, and there stood Summer Vegar, glaring daggers at him. Dean's hand shot out for one of the pistols he'd tossed carelessly onto the bed, but with inhuman speed and reflexes, Summer threw herself forward, spinning around and landing a kick against Dean's chest, throwing him backwards against the wall.
He had just enough time to see her land lightly on her feet in front of him before unconsciousness took over and he slumped into darkness, blood trickling from a small wound in the back of his head.
A/N: My first cliffhanger. What did you guys think? Please let me know via review, any and all (except flames) are appreciated. Also, I should probably add that Dream Leapers were not my idea originally, technically. They are based on a guy from an episode in Charmed called the Dream Sorcerer, who killed women by pushing them off twleve story buildings in their dreams. So, now you know, how do you think I did putting my own thoughts into it, the result being Summer Vegar and her possesser?