Chapter 4 – False Positive

A/N: And now, a brief interlude featuring one majorly pissed off Coyote.

Disclaimer: Don't own John, Dean, Sam or Coyote. Darn.

000

He doesn't care about us the way you do, Old Man…

Bad dreams these last couple'a nights. Blood and death and family and I want to wake up but I can't.

Being wide awake ain't exactly been all sunshine and roses, either.

The kid won't listen to me.

He's got his family with him, Thomas whispers inside my head. His father and his brother. He doesn't care about you and yours.

He let that dead bitch inside his head, and he wouldn't listen to me so I dragged him back inside with me.

Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole my ass.

"We back to this again, huh?" Dean just stands there with his back against the tree. His legs are shaky and I can see the weakness in his eyes. He can barely lift his head up, and that suits me just fine. I'm his mirror image now, but he's weak and I'm strong.

Lightning flashes overhead. Thunder rolls. He's pissed off, but so am I.

"That Jenny girl is dead and gone. Those school kids, these others, they're not family. Think you forgot who we're out here for. Why we're out here. Redd and Slymm. Thomas and Bertha. You and Sam. And…and John. They're family. Not those others. Can't save everybody. Don't want to."

The boy shakes his head slowly. "It's not Thomas."

"Shut up."

"It's not Thomas."

"I said shut the hell up!" I grab him by the collar of that long brown duster of his, slam him back into the tree. I don't wanna hear any of that crap. His eyes widen as soon as I touch him. He sees what I've been dreamin' the last couple nights, and I don't give a damn anymore.

Slymm covered in her own blood, snarling as they back her into a corner.

Redd lying dead on the ground. That wolf witch bastard stands over her, laughing. "They call you The Magician, Roamer." He draws back his foot and kicks her hard in the side. Her ribs snap like dry brittle twigs.

I can't move.

I want to rip his fucking heart out, and I can't move.

He laughs and kicks her again. Harder. Her body jumps off the ground even higher and collapses face down in a boneless heap. " Not much magic now, is there?"

It's Redd's turn now, and she purrs softly in my ear. "You listen to that boy, and he's made you weak, Cere. You're his pet now, a tame little trickster dog. You gave up on us, but it's okay. It's all right. We forgive you."

The boy's eyes flash dark gold, and I'm too close, too slow. His foot slams into the back of my legs and my feet go out from under me. I hit the ground on my back, and when I do I get the wind knocked outta me.

And something else too. The clouds overhead disappear and the wind dies down.

The kid slides down with his back against the tree trunk and he grunts as his ass hits the ground. "Hear that?" His eyes fade back to a pale light green. "You really think Redd would say something like that? She wouldn't. She wouldn't, 'cause that's not her."

Damn.

Fucking witches can imitate human and animal voices. Oldest trick in the book. Hell, I helped write the damn book.

It's not Thomas. Not Redd. Me and the boy weren't supposed to dream the same thing. Divide and conquer.

Tricks for the tricked.

And I fell for it.

We stay like that for a few moments. He closes his eyes, leans his head back against the tree. I lie there on my back feeling like a damn fool, the king of stupid.

The kid huffs. "So," he grumbles finally. "You just gonna lie there and wallow all night like some emo chick?"

"Yeah."

"Bzzzt! Way wrong answer, princess. Get up. Now."

"What?"

"Come on, move it. Get your – my -- oh hell, our ass in gear. We can hear 'em. Means they're probably close. Stop feelin' sorry for your damn self and move it. Now."

000

There are five of the bastards.

A snake, a wolf. Owl and a damn rabbit and a mountain lion. They're all crouched together in a circle, in a cave about two miles away. I see painted skin, grey and brown fur. Scales. They sing protection prayers backwards to keep the circle protected, and the snake coils on the ground in the center of the circle. The circle's blood-stained sand and bare skulls picked clean.

None of it belongs to Redd or Thomas or Slymm. That's about the only thing I'm grateful for.

I stand in the shadows right behind them, and they still don't see me.

"You always do that, Old Man. You always let them take from you. Second time for you, isn't it?" The snake's voice sounds just like Thomas.

Not for long. I reach out with my mind and twist his head off like a bottle cap.

I light up the darkness around me. They don't like the light. Too fucking bad.

They don't try to fight. Everybody scatters instead, each one trying to peel off in opposite directions.

The entrance to the cave slams shut and that's when I get down to business.

I don't fill my hand with a gun. No weapons. Not my style. Everything's up close and personal now, and I want to make them suffer. I reach inside their skulls and their eyes bulge as I start ripping thir minds apart. I don't find what I'm looking for. They don't know where my lost family is. Can't even backtrack, follow the trail back to where they came from in the first place.

I bust heads wide open, fry nervous systems down to black ash.

I leave bits of fur and skin and bone scattered all over the damn place. It's bloody and it's something I would'a done way back in the day. I'm marking my territory, giving notice.

Here I am. Don't fuck with me.

Last thing I do is burn the circle, the blood and the bones. Whoever they are deserve to rest in peace.

Five less of these bastards to deal with. That's something, anyway.

000

I open my eyes and it's deja fucking vu all over again. We're back on the hillside, the sun's setting overhead, and down below by the highway that neon blue sign – Sociable Inn – is attracting normals like flies to a spider's web. They pull onto the parking lot of that damn place just begging to be slaughtered. Or worse.

I know where we're heading next.

John Winchester sits on the ground holding me in his arms. Sam looms overhead, and I don't like the looks on their faces.

If I'd seen hate in their eyes, hate for what they think I did to their son, their brother, I could deal with that. Instead I see worry and concern, for me and the boy, and I can't handle any of that.

Just goes to show how fucked up in the head I am, huh?

I'm on the downward slide now, back into the headspace, and that's fine by me. I don't belong like this anyway, not after the way I fucked up.

For some reason I think about that Jenny girl. She was somebody's daughter. Somebody's sister, probably. Like Redd, and Slymm.

Yeah, I know I said we can't save everybody.

But maybe we can save some of 'em.

000

Next up: Alligators, angst, and the Showdown at the Sociable Inn.