Chapter 4

--

Back at my apartment, I found both Dean and Sam lounging on my sofa when I returned. Mister had been curled up on Sam's lap while Dean had his feet on my coffee table. I set my staff down at the door and took off my duster. "You guys do anything exciting while I was gone?" I asked playfully.

"Dude, your place is boring as hell for someone so bizarre. You could at least have a television, or video games. I'm up to my eyeballs in books here," Dean whined.

"I have a pack of cards," I suggested, "Poker night, you know. Fun crowd too, you would like them. A ghoul, a vampire, and a wizard all walk into a bar…"

Sam scratched Mister under the chin, "Did you find anything interesting at the scene?"

"I got some blood, we can see what Bob makes of it."

"Who's Bob?" Sam asked.

I grinned at Sam as he glanced to the hallway where none other than my favorite damned spirit of knowledge and intellect walked out through the opposing wall.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean shot, glaring at him. I could almost feel the older Winchester reaching for his pistol, thankfully however, the kid didn't actually make to shoot Bob.

Bob ignored him, and looked directly at me, "What did you need me for?"

"I need you to find out who this is," I said, holding up the translucent orange tube for him to see. I popped the top of it and laid the swab on the table for Bob to inspect.

"Delightful. I suppose you stole this from an evidence bag?" He accused.

I knew he was joking, but I still defended my self by shaking my head, "Nope, Murph gave it to me as an anniversary present, told me to "keep it secret, keep it safe.""

Sam chuckled. Sad thing was, is that Tolkien actually had Gandalf right on the money, sort of. Tolkien had been "inspired" by some faeries about the story of Middle-earth, most of it was Tolkien's own imagination granted, but Gandalf and the four other wizards of Middle-earth were based on real sorcerers. That was why I loved the Hobbit so much, and the whole series; nothing like reading about historical figures that hundreds upon thousands of drooling fans thought weren't real. Frodo does, in fact, actually live.

Bob silently looked at me with little amusement. Then he sighed, "Let's see who it is." He placed his "hand" over the cotton swab and before our eyes transformed into a young woman with long auburn hair and dazzling hazel eyes. Despite those colors, she seemed pale and unhealthy, as though she'd been sick for a while. "Do you recognize this?" Bob asked.

I shook my head; I had never seen her before.

"It feels… incomplete," Bob said hesitantly, "Like I'm not entirely here."

That was cryptic.

Laying the obvious ghostly jokes aside, I remained serious. "How so?" I questioned, Bob had done some weird (and I mean weird) sleuthing before but he never had told me the glamour felt imperfect.

"It's bizarre," Bob poked "herself" in the stomach a couple of times, "Something's missing."

Sam shot a glance at me, "The victims were missing body parts, right? Is the first victim?"

I shook my head, "No, that girl was blonde, besides, she was already dead before this guy was even killed." I looked at the Bob's glamour closer, "Nope, definitely two different girls." Bob awkwardly shuffled "her" feet, but I continued, "This girl was there the night of the murder, got shot in the crossfire maybe."

"Or was the murderer," Dean put forth - stating what I knew everyone was thinking, but too hesitant to speak aloud.

I waved my hand and Bob dismissed the glamour all too eagerly. "Thank heavens," he breathed, "For a moment there I thought you were keeping me that way for show."

"Sacrifices need to be made Bob," I grinned.

Sam still appeared in investigator mode, and stood up and began pacing around my living room. He turned and strode up to Bob, "You said incomplete? Right?" He turned back towards Dean and I, "She could be another victim. She might have been there that evening and got shot or something like that. After the thing got through with bachelor man he made for the girlfriend and took her somewhere."

"Worth investigating," I said, "I'll draw up a sketch of her and see if Murphy has any ideas. Get the local morgues and hospitals for Jane Does. Bob? Can you look through the newspaper pile for any cases that might involve whatever this thing is?"

"Certainly," Bob nodded, "Then I have to ask you to through that ridiculous pile of papers away, I'll have them memorized by the end of the night anyway. Goodness Harry, you can't keep all of that stuff, some might think you're a pack rat." Bob faded through the wall and I returned to my conversation with the Winchester brothers.

"I can't believe you work with the police on these things," Sam said, "This Murphy must be one tough cookie to face the things that we deal with."

"I can't believe she believes you," Dean grinned.

"She does what she can," I sighed, things were… complicated with Murphy most days, "And she's a friend, so knock off the perverted oversexed teenage boy act."

"I'm not a teenage boy," Dean replied defensively.

Sam stopped pacing and walked over to the two of us, "You act like one Dean."

"My god I hate this…" Dean said, running his hand through his hair looking up at Sam and I.

"What?" I ask curiously. Dean threw a look of utter disgust and loathing at us before turning away with his arms folded across his chest. Sam and I glanced at each other sheepishly as if we both had an idea of what the older Winchester was going to say next.

"You're both freaking giants… you're too damn tall."

I just let out a small smile. Sam just laughed.

"Laying our towering height aside," I grinned, "Seriously, I don't want to risk you guys with my business with Murphy. When she's in the picture I want you guys to book it out of there and fast. You'll need to keep yourselves hidden and keep your own asses out of jail."

"That's cool," Dean shrugged. He looked out the window, "Something tells me this ain't going to be a clean cut salt and burn." He smirked at me, "You tend to complicate things."

"It's all for fun," I beamed, "But I don't think it's a salt and burn. I've known spirits to damage like this but spare few, and that had extenuating circumstances."

"You piss off the wrong person?"

Heh, so this was the point where Dean wanted a spitting contest, I was game. The Winchesters wouldn't get to work until nightfall, so we would have the chance to catch up. "I've pissed off a lot of things, not just people."

Sam sighed and went back to the couch, Mister immediately jumped onto his lap and demanded attention (as was his right) and Sam returned it sleepily. Mister seemed to have claimed the younger Winchester, and the arrangement seemed to just fine with him.

"Sam kidnapped by rednecks."

His brother chuckled, "You got your ass handed to you by a little girl."

"I stopped a sorcerer killing people with supercharged black magic."

"I killed a wendigo."

"I got to play babysitter with a bunch of kid werewolves and handle a loup-garou."

Dean's eyes lit up, "No way? A real…?" He shook his head and hardened his expression, "I took on a strega and saved a bunch of kids."

"I killed an undead spirit demon with my mind."

"I roasted a psychotic ghost of a doctor even after he played some mind trick on Sam and shot me."

Sam sighed exasperatedly, "I'm sorry about that, I thought we were over that by this point." He gave me an apologetic look before continuing, "It was my fault, but I'll have you know he almost got sacrificed to a scarecrow."

Smiling, I triumphantly added, "I raised Sue the T-Rex and had her chomp down a bunch of zombies and necromancers. Better ride than your car ever was."

Dean looked hurt for a second and recovered by saying, "I saved a whole plane of people from a phantom traveler."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean, all of that stuff was both of us, stop taking all the credit. Besides, you're afraid of flying, you were freaking out for half the flight. "

Just to get the last word in I leaned forward to Dean and said, "I started the war with the Red Court and secretly unplanted the White King."

Dean paled, "Freaking God Dresden, that was you? You're even more reckless than we are." Sam looked at his brother confused then back at me. "You…" he stammered and staggered back, "Sammy and I have been dealing with some vampires ourselves. I heard about the war through our friend Bobby. He said the Council was trying to get in contact with the rest of us, but we work on our own, still, the vamps have been causing increased trouble in our circles as well."

"Well, I "technically" started it, but I had a very good reason to," I finished, feeling blood rush to my face. Telling others that I started what might turn out to be a very very costly war seemed to be a bad idea on my part.

"Holy freaking hell Harry," Dean said, lifting an eyebrow cautiously, "Have you been okay with all this? I mean, if you need help Sam and I would be happy to…"

"There's a war?" Sam asked.

"Sort of, it's complicated," I explained. "There was this demon thing, attacking friends and so forth. I went to go investigate at Bianca's joint and unfortunately Susan was there. Bianca took her, and I went and got her back…" I looked down, "I tried to at least."

Dean stared at me silently, which was an awkward situation I didn't want to get into. Only Dean had picked up on the innuendo that lined my statement, and fortunately the younger Winchester interjected with "War between whom?"

"Wizards, or at least the White Council, and the Red Court vamps Sammy," Dean answered. "I was speaking to Bobby about it just the other day, it's why we've had more vampire attacks than normal. It's been going on for years now, Maybe a little before you started your freshman year at Stanford."

"Why haven't I heard about this before?"

"Not really something we talk about."

I looked at the brothers, something was building here, and I could feel the tension growing in the air around me. It was giving me a headache. It seemed like Dean had been keeping things from Sam, and apparently this wasn't the only time that Dean had done so.

"What do you mean by that Dean?" Sam asked, his voice turning harsher than before, while still playing with Mister's fur. "You neglected to tell me about a major war going our under our noses? Dean, that is big news, I should be able to know about it.

"Sam, it's not important."

"The hell it is Dean!"

Wow, okay, this was something I didn't want to involve myself in. I had work to do... sweep the streets of little Chicago... stuff in my lab that I could be progressing on…

"Harry? Care to enlighten my brother about issues of underground politics?"

Damn…

I sighed and went over, sitting opposite of Sam and Dean took the spot next to me. I tapped on my knee and then said, "Okay, long story short, Red Court vampires declare war on the White Council. It's akin to the Cold War at this point, but both sides are more feeling each other out. They've been more active, enough so that you guys pick up on them. I don't know what more to say really…"

"White Council?" Sam questioned.

"Government-ish body of wizards, and you are all too familiar with the Red Court on your own."

"I didn't know there was this much going on," he sighed, "Sometimes with this… I dunno… a lot of the times it just feels like Dean and I against the world."

"You have friends, you just have to lean on them every now and then. Something big is coming; everyone in our world can feel it. Something bigger than all of us, and I think this tiff between the vamps and the White Council is just a sign of something worse to come."

"Heaven and hell itself is on edge," Dean growled.

"Faerie is tense too," I added.

"Somehow we find ourselves in the middle of it. That's wonderful," Sam whispered with a dark look in his eyes.

"We'll cross, salt, and burn that bridge when we get to it Sammy," Dean assured.

"It's just kinda surprising that there is… organization to these things."

Dean shrugged, "You get used to it, just make sure it doesn't use you. That's why I didn't tell you Sam, I didn't want to involve you with these people, I don't like them myself."

"Was Dad?"

"No, neither of us. But he had connections to some."

Sam sat silently for a moment, and then ventured, "Is there an organization of hunters like us?"

Dean laughed, but it was a nervous laugh and he seemed uncertain if he would answer, therefore, I interrupted, "There is, except the one that I do know of doesn't like wizards, therefore, I avoid them best I can. They don't really like anyone not the cookie-cutter version of Jack and Jill. There's another, good group of hunters that I knew your Father was heavily involved in but never claimed he was a part of. But most groups of mortal hunters? No, they're not good people."

Sam absently once again returned to petting Mister, but said quietly, "So why are you involved with this group of wizards?"

"Because I have to be, sort of thrust into it," I explained, "But they don't really like me. In fact, I think Morgan really wants to kill me."

"Morgan?" Dean said, looking up, "Is that the warden guy we ran into at the tavern?"

"The very same."

Dean looked at Sam, "Big man, stern eyes, big sword. Which reminds me, Harry, is the rest of the Council still gunning for you? Or has that been taken care of for the most part?"

"Hmm… well… no, they really still don't like me. They tolerate me, because I've been somewhat useful in stopping the end of the world. Then again, that whole thing with the vampires gives me the impression they'd be more than happy to hang me out to dry. They also don't like how I advertise that I'm a wizard - apparently wizardry isn't something you go shouting about in the streets of downtown Chicago," I laughed.

"And it's such a shame when no one believes you when you tell them that you hunt evil for a living," Dean sighed, recalling some incident which I was not privy to. He looked back at his brother with a boyish grin, "They were probably sizing me up for a straightjacket then weren't they Sammy? If they didn't want to arrest me so badly."

Hmmm… I wondered if that had anything to do with what Murphy had been discussing with me earlier, but anyway, she'd tell me soon enough. I pulled out the copies of the crime photos and laid them on the table for the younger men to look at. "See what you can discern from these. If you can't find anything to work on I'll drive you over to the crime scenes."

"Why can't we go and check them out by ourselves?" Dean asked, hunters usually work as themselves, and weren't used to help, or being told what to do. Neither are wizards, but whatever.

"Because it's SI, and if you're in as deep shit as you say you are those guys would be the ones to notice you. If you're with me then I can tell them to take five, maybe."

"If you get caught with us you'll be in deeper shit," Dean reminded me.

Sam looked at me with sincerity, "We don't want to cause you any trouble or inconvenience you like that."

"I've been in worse situations. I've had my fair share of arrests on my own. But still, I want to work with you guys on this, it'll be like old times."

They both nodded. Sam shifted his position and Mister rearranged himself on the younger Winchester's lap, "Where do we start wizard?"

I crossed my arms and stood up from the couch, it seemed like a simple case, three people (not including the various officers in Special Investigations) would be more than enough manpower. Wishful thinking on my part I suppose, because it seems that ideas like that never work out as I hope.

"Well…" I sighed, "With Bob on research duty… hmmm…"

"We'll go snooping," Dean put forth, "Not to any crime scenes or whatnot, just interviewing friends of the victims and the like. Which is actually something I can do solo. Sammy? Why don't you go with Harry to the scenes, see what you can gather."

Sam sat up alarmed, "We just discussed this Dean, Mr. Dresden told us that we shouldn't go near the scenes. We're still in hot water from the…"

"I know Sam," Dean reassured. "But you're not the one with his face plastered all over the news. You'll be fine. Keep the wizard out of trouble," he said with a wink in my direction. I rolled my eyes in return.

"That works," I said, with finality in my voice. "You guys want to grab a bite to eat first?"

"Do we!" Dean exclaimed, "I'm starved."

"Great," I replied, "We can take your car." I wanted to see their car, recalling how I envied it when Dean and John were in Chicago years ago. In fact, I wanted to drive their car, scratch that actually, I wanted their car. No, I'm not jealous, I just very attached to the idea. Once again, trying to convince myself of this.

"The hell we are," Dean said, stopping me at my doorway, "I know you and your habit of breaking things – we are not taking my car."

Sam looked at him puzzled.

Dean answered his brother's unasked question with, "Wizards, walking power malfunctions." He shook his head, "We take your excuse for a vehicle." He looked at the Blue Beetle with mild curiosity as we all stepped outside into the street. "No offense Dresden, but this heap of metal you call a car is a genuine piece of crap."

I laughed, "My car could outlive your car anyway."

My car, the infamous Blue Beetle, is no longer what one would properly call "blue" per say, rather a menagerie of shades of grey, green, red, and the original paintjob of powder blue. But hell, it has survived a truckload of abuse, all because Mike (my mechanic) is something of an omnipotent, omniscient, automotive God.

"I think the car is a part of the Winchester family," Sam grinned, "So long as there's one left the Impala will keep chugging away."

"Chugging?! You say that like it's some kind of inferior Chitty Chitty Bang Bang type car Sammy. I won't have you treating her with that sort of disrespect."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

I sighed, and got into the driver side of the Beetle, "Are you boys coming?"

"Shotgun," Dean spat.

"Why do you get sho…"

Dean slapped Sam playfully on the back, "I'm older."

"I'm taller, I need more room to stretch my legs," Sam protested.

"I called it."

"You're both children," I sighed. "Dean, get in the back. Sam, stop arguing with your brother." I shut the door of the Beetle and started the engine. Grudgingly Dean crawled in the backseat, or, at least, what remained of the backseat. In retrospect it was rather funny, Dean seemed crunched up and his sour expression only made him seem more childish at his predicament. For good measure, Sam stretched his arms and took up as much space as possible in the passenger seat.

Once again, I just let out a small smile. Sam laughed.

Dean just glared at us.

--

Author's Note: Holy shit I updated… and before Equinox…

Anyway, really, this has become a monster of a fic that takes a lot of work to edit and work on because it's been through so many incarnations (even moreso than Equinox) and on top of that I really have to consider the fact that many of you probably are unfamiliar with the Dresden Files.

Anywho… I'm going to go finish editing the next chapter of Equinox and coughredocough the next few chapters of this.

Leave a review!I'm notoriously bad at updating fics, reviews are the way of reminding me to do so haha.