Hey Followers! Hope you are all still with me on this adventure, its been a few horribly crappy months! Here is the next chapter with Skye and the Winchesters, and it took a long time to get it where I have it now. Lots of re-writing, editing, starting over, but FINALLY! Got it finished!
I do not own anything from Supernatural. Skye and Jack are mine, as well as anything you wouldn't recognize from the show. Hopefully, I can have the next chapter up in a few weeks, or sooner, depending on how long my creative juices keep flowing!
Skye kept gathering information about the Wyoming case while she waited for Dean and Sam to get back. With no statements from witnesses, all she could do was find theories and research them. Her list was thorough, though she secretly wished she had a few more possibilities to add to it.
She stared at the piece of paper in front of her, looking over the possibilities. Demons, Pagan Gods, Shapeshifter, Egyptian God?, Rakshasa, Skinwalker, Witches?. That was all she had on her list. Just seven possibilities. She kept staring at them, and slowly began to work on trying to eliminate one or two on her list.
First topic: Demons. She already knew that demons didn't have a pattern to follow, but the omens that seemed to follow them around weren't spotted at all in the Priest case nor the Arizona case years before. 'Hmm, maybe not demon then. Definitely not at the top of the list anymore, but not off completely.' Skye thought to herself as she kept searching. According to the articles she found concerning Jackie Priest, there were no signs of sulfur or black smoke. Still not taking the demon possibility off the list, she moved it to the very bottom.
Next came the Pagan Gods. Jackie Priest was a practicing Catholic, as far as Skye could tell, despite the brothel. Skye put a heavy black line through that one, not bothering to further her search for clues.
Shapeshifter was third on the list. Always a potential candidate for an unknown supernatural killer, Skye kept it on the list, making a note in the margin. Can shifters take the form of reptiles/animals? She wasn't sure, and Dean had John's journal, which was bound to have more shifter information in it.
Egyptian Gods…that was a new one for Skye, but if Pagan Gods could make the list, there was the slight chance that it could be an Egyptian God as well. She simply web searched for any Egyptians known to have the head of a crocodile or alligator, or have any relation to the creature, and she was given a specific name. Sobek, Egyptian god of the Nile, the army and military, and fertility. According to the website she pulled up, Sobek was known to be aggressive and animalistic deity who lived up to the vicious reputation of his patron animal. 'Interesting…Egyptian God with the head of a gator, vicious and animalistic….could definitely attack someone like a gator.' Skye kept scanning until she came to a passage that caught her eye. "He who eats while he also mates".
"Okay, weird. But cool. Strange. That's a better word for it." Skye mumbled to herself as she kept reading. This Sobek character could be a huge possibility in the Priest case. If this was the culprit, how does one kill a God?
Jack came padding into the study, whining at Skye. His ears were perked up and his tail wagged slowly. Skye smiled. "Alright, Jack. I'll let you out." After another long period of sitting, Skye stood and stretched, cracking her neck and back. She followed the dog to the front door and let him out to run loose in the massive yard and junk yard.
She slipped on her boots and jacket, wandering into the maze of rusted cars and random piles of junk to find Bobby in one of his many work sheds. He was looking through a rusted four-door, pulling out bits of wiring and cussing under his breath. "Hey Bobby." Skye called to him as she shut the shed door behind her.
The older hunter clambered out from underneath the junker, quirking an eyebrow when he saw her. "What are you doing out here, kid?" He asked, his voice gruff like always.
"Let the dog loose, wanted to take a break from searching for possible leads on the case I found. And I had a question, if you knew the answer to it." She shoved her hands into her pockets, slightly hunching her shoulders.
"What did you wanna know?"
Skye swallowed. "Um, how do you kill an Egyptian God?"
Bobby stared at her in silence. She could see the confusion in his eyes. "Why the hell do you want to kill an Egyptian God? And you can't kill one anyway. That's impossible."
"Hmm. Well, it's a possible lead…for the case. But if you can't kill one, how can you stop one?" She asked.
Huffing, Bobby dropped the dirty rag in his hands and grabbed his flask from a nearby work bench. He took a hefty pull before answering. "You can send one into a centuries long sleep by stabbing it with a ram's horn."
Smiling, Skye turned to leave the shed. "Thanks Bobby!" Closing the door behind her, she whistled for Jack, who came out of nowhere to run ahead of her to the house.
After sitting back down at her computer and list, Skye added the bit about the ram's horn.
Rakshasa was after the Egyptian God. Able to shapeshift, ate human flesh, slept on a bed of dead insects, can't enter a home without invitation…it all fit the article. She knew Sam and Dean had encountered one before, so she jumped to the next on the list.
SKinwalkers were similar to the shapeshifter, plus they've been dealt with before. Skye stared at the word witches. "Fuck, witches." She'd heard many stories from Bobby about witches, and could easily gather that they weren't fun to deal with at all. At least Dean and Sam know how to kill them.
She kept staring at her list and her information, how it fit with the evidence she'd compiled, how it seemed to make sense in a variety of ways. Pride swelled her heart when she saw all of her efforts culminated to a single list with the information she absolutely needed to have.
Her pride didn't last long. She was about to keep digging for information online when she heard Jack bark from upstairs. He ran down the hall and stood at the door barking. The roar of the Impala was heard before she could chastise the dog, and she grinned, standing up to meet the boys outside.
She stood on front porch, grinning ear to ear as she watched the Sam get out of the driver's side door. He was frowning, not bothering to look up at her as he turned and opened the backseat door. "Go find Bobby." Sam called up to Skye, bending low to pull Dean out of the backseat. Skye took off running, Jack following her, as she screamed Bobby's name, trying to get his attention.
Bobby was just walking out of the shop as Skye skidded to a halt, her face panicked, and voice frantic. "It's Dean, something is wrong. Sam needs your help." She said, not stopping to breathe before she was racing back to the house.
"Idjits!" Bobby cursed, jogging to get to the boys. Jack was torn between going with Skye or staying with Bobby, so he kept running ahead of Bobby and waiting until he caught up with him before running ahead a little further.
Sam had carried Dean into the house, and had laid him down on the kitchen table. Dean's shirt was opened, revealing a large gash running from his right shoulder to his left shoulder, and two more gashes running down from the first gash to the top of his jeans. It looked like whatever had attacked him had wanted him to literally spill his guts.
Bobby was out of breath when he finally arrived in the house, his face paling at the sight of an unconscious Dean lying, bleeding, possibly dying, on his kitchen table. He went to the sink and scrubbed his hands, barking orders at Sam and Skye to gather the medical kit and various supplies from around the house.
"What the hell happened to him, Sam?"
"I-I don't know. We were stopped the diner in town to grab dinner and we were just leaving when he starts screaming, and there was blood on his shirt and he just…he just freaked. I didn't know what to do, so I came here." He looked up at Bobby, his big hazel eyes peering up from under his brown hair.
Skye stood off to the side, watching silently as Bobby and Sam each took a section of Dean's injury and began to stitch it up. She didn't even hear Sam saying her name until he raised his voice.
"Hey, Skye. You with me?" He asked, hair swept out of his face, Dean's blood on his hands, and he was staring at her.
She cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, what?"
"I asked if you could help us stitch up Dean. We could use another set of hands." Skye nodded, scrubbing her hands at the sink quickly before taking up a needle and threading it. She hadn't had to stitch up a human in a long time, but having rambunctious horses meant lots of broken fences and cuts.
She blew out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and placed the needle against Dean's pale skin, pushing the pin through until the head poked out the other side. She slowly tugged the thread through until it was at the end, and tied it off, poking the head through the other side of the gash and tying off the stitch again. She cut the thread, and started the second stitch barely above the one she just did.
Sam looked over at her work, noticing she was doing a mix of interrupted sutures and vertical mattress stitches where the gash was wider. "How do you know those different sutures?"
"Veterinary medicine class at school. We went to the university's vet clinic and had a learning workshop. Got to stitch up pig feet and whatnot. Learned a few types of sutures. This one is quickest." She answered, not looking up from her work. She stuck the needle in again, on the ninth stitch, and made a mattress stitch, tying it off before starting another mattress stitch. She pulled the thread tight, bunching up the skin to make it ridge, securing a better stitch for the recovery. Sam watched her progress. She was a fast stitcher, and he was impressed.
"You know, if you stop watching her, you can help your brother, ya idjit. Get back to work." Bobby grumped from his place by Dean's right shoulder, while Sam stood at his other shoulder. Skye was quickly pulling his right abdominal gash together, leaving one gash untouched yet.
"What happened to him, Sam?" Skye asked as she kept stitching up her father.
Sam frowned, clearing his throat. "We were after some witches. Southern Montana, not Wyoming like we thought. One threw a curse at Dean, but she didn't say anything, and we killed her anyway, but I guess…maybe this is what she hit Dean with." He said, still concentrating on the stitches he was putting in.
Skye just nodded, not answering back as she tied off another suture. Bobby had finished his section of Dean's chest, and went to get some bandages, complaining of old hands.
Over an hour later, Skye and Sam tied off the last of their stitches, exhaling loudly at the many little black threads holding Dean together. Bobby wrapped his torso, giving him a mild sedative to keep him down and out while he started to heal.
"Well. That sucked." Skye commented, finally turning to wash the dried blood off her hands, picking underneath her fingernails to remove the grime.
Someone placed their hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. She could tell it was Bobby- he smelled of car grease and dirt. "You did great kid. I'll make dinner tonight, okay? Go shower or something, take your dog out, and then relax. Sounds good?" He said, his gruff voice making her smile.
She turned and hugged him, feeling his heavy arms wrap around her. "Thanks Bobby." She mumbled, releasing him to grin, his scruffy face pulled back in a warm smile.
When she was upstairs, and the men heard the shower running, Bobby turned towards Sam. "Did you check for a hex bag at all?" His tone was sharp, reprimanding Sam for letting his brother get hurt.
"Uh, no. Didn't…uh, didn't think of that, actually." Sam ran a hand through his hair, hanging his head in shame. He stood, leaning against the wall as Bobby quickly checked Dean's pockets, pulling out a small bag tied with string.
"Ya damned idjit! You can't let your guard down! Burn this and then get him to the cot in the study. You need to fix this with Skye too. But not tonight. Poor girl's prolly been through enough hell with this stunt you boys pulled. How could you get this stupid Sam? If its witches, and curses, you know you need to check for a hex bag!" Bobby yelled, throwing the bag to Sam before heading upstairs as well.
Sam kept his head down. He knew he should've looked, but Dean was in trouble. His brother came first, it was just instinct at this point. Burning the hex bag was easy enough, but moving Dean without pulling any stitches was another trouble.
He was well aware of the fact that Bobby left him alone to try and handle his heavy, unconscious brother, it was his penance. Once moved, he ran his hand over his face, leaning against Bobby's desk. Skye's laptop and notebook were still there, open and ready for use. He saw her neat handwriting across the page, and couldn't stop himself. He picked up the notebook, reading her list and the information on the case she was researching.
She was good, Sam would willingly admit. She covered more possibilities than even he would have, if he had done the researching. He hit the space bar on the laptop, scanning over the article of the strange deaths. He could see the patterns Skye had noticed, and even some possible ones that weren't as obvious, she had them written down. Sam smiled. She was good, she was damned good.
Sam sat there, reading her information thoroughly. He was so engrossed in her work that he didn't hear her come down the stairs, standing there watching him. "What are you doing, Sam?" She asked, arms crossed over her chest, not in anger or defiance, but cautiously, as if she was afraid he would be mad.
He looked up at her, eyes wide. "I was, uh, just…looking through your notes. They're good." He added a smile at the end, hoping to ease her tension.
She nodded, wet hair falling around her face. It was longer than Sam remembered, and she wasn't wearing any makeup. Sam could see more of her father in her features than he thought he did when they first met.
Her eyes were the same shape as Dean's, not the same color, but close, maybe a few shades lighter. She had a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks and nose, same as her dad's. The same full, pouty lips, the hair was close in color, her facial structure was strong, yet feminine. She was almost identical to Dean, and Sam was amazed he never actually noticed before.
"If you want to yell or get mad, just do it. Bobby said to wait until you two came home before telling you, but this wasn't how I was planning on letting you know I found a case. So…sorry." She trailed off at the end, eyes looking anywhere but at Sam.
Standing, he walked over to her and pulled her into a swift hug. She was hesitant to return the gesture, slowly wrapping her arms around his huge frame. "You did great. I'm impressed, your dad would be proud of you. And Bobby must be proud of you, too. And you did great with fixing up Dean, too. Sorry that it was unannounced and hectic, but I was panicking. So, I should be thanking you for that." He held her at arm's length, staring into her green eyes.
She grinned, showing her big white teeth, eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, dimples out in full force. So much like Dean.
"Well, thank you for that. I'm gonna take Jack out, and Bobby should be down soon to start dinner. I'd have a glass of whiskey ready for him when he does, he'll need it. Then he won't be so damn grouchy either." She chuckled. "But I am glad you're both home again, even under the shitty circumstances. Glad you came back relatively safe. Except for…well, you know, him."
Sam just nodded, watching her walk outside with her dog. He did as she suggested, having a glass for Bobby as he clumped down the stairs, frown in place like always. On the plus side, that whiskey helped him to avoid a verbal ass-kicking from the older hunter.
As Sam looked out the kitchen window to Skye in the yard, he couldn't help but wonder, how the hell was their little family so lucky with finding her in that no-name bar in Wisconsin?