Reflection or Perception?
Chapter 9
As always thank you for your continued support, co-written by sexdrugsandoreos.
The trip to the Sheriff's house had given them all the answers they needed in Dean's mind, Robert Blundell had sold his soul to stop the deaths from occurring and now the demon was back now that debt had been paid. Morgan however believed a different story, a story very similar to one made by The Reaper who was currently making the team's lives a misery, in particular Aaron Hotchner. He had made a deal with the Police Chief at the time that if they stop hunting him, then he'll stop hunting them, once the chief died the deal was broken and he began to kill once more.
No matter which way the case was looked at they still had no leads.
The team reassembled at the LAPD headquarters. Rossi technically took the lead but turned to Bobby for reassurance after every other sentence; 'all too clear who's really running the case here', thought Morgan, while outwardly nodding along. Since when did David Rossi take orders from anyone?
"Morgan?" He realised, all too late, that he'd been so wrapped up in internal complaining, he had completely forgotten to pay attention to what was actually being said. Now, the whole team were looking at him expectantly, waiting for the answer to a question he couldn't even begin to guess.
"Uh...yeah, yeah," he tried his best to sound confident and self-assured, hoping that might get him off the hook even if it turned out to be a nonsensical response in the context. A simple mishearing beat outright ignorance any day.
"You and Dean visited the Sheriff, yeah? You think you can keep your eyes open long enough to explain to the rest of the team what happened there?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Morgan saw Dean struggle to conceal a laugh.
"We went to visit the Sheriff, but we didn't see him." A look of confusion washed over the faces around him. "Old man passed away just five months ago. Suicide."
"That has to have something to do with the case, right?" JJ spoke up boldly, faltering only slightly when every face in the room turned to look at her. "Killer disappears for twenty years, then starts again just five months after the death of the lead sheriff of the case? And...Rossi, you said he was traumatised, right? More than any of you could ever really understand?"
"Right," Bobby answered for him, actually more impressed by the agents than he'd care to admit - looked like some feds did listen after all.
"Personal involvement. Bargaining," Morgan confirmed, "And we don't THINK." He reached into his pocket and brought out the slip of notepaper from the Sheriff, waving it in front of the curious faces of the rest of the team. "Assuming this isn't a forgery - and we don't see any reason why it would be -, we know."
Bobby wheeled himself in Morgan's direction, coming to a dead end in the form of a perplexed looking Reid.
"Oh, I'm sorry, are you-"
Bobby pulled a face and ignored him, addressing Morgan instead.
"Hey, just...pass that here, would you?" He pointed at the folded letter still clasped protectively between Morgan's fingers, tacking on a half-hearted "PLEASE" for good measure on seeing the reproachful looks of both Rossi and Morgan himself.
Morgan looked to Rossi for guidance. Rossi smiled and nodded. "You don't need to check everything with me, you know. Bobby's running this case too."
There were a lot of raised eyebrows at that; Rossi himself regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. He might be maximising Bobby's involvement in the case in reality - he was best equipped to deal with it by far, mentally if no longer physically -, but it was equally important he minimised the emphasis on Bobby and the Winchesters when he was talking to the team. For all they knew, they were just reporters. What kind of a senior profiler lets a damn reporter co-run a case?!
It all just raised way too many questions - and the less his team had of them, the better.
Still, no time for dwelling on regrets now. Bobby had unfolded the letter and his eyes were now moving rapidly down the page, expression grave from the start.
He handed it wordlessly to Rossi.
Despite collating their information on the case there was still no movement forward until the phone call came in that evening, the man fitted the profile, worked as a builder, a loner, broken home, had been seen lurking around a suburban neighbourhood similar to the other crime scenes and talking to local children. J.J. flagged it and referred it to Hotch thereby making him a priority, the teams had gone their separate ways for the evening, the BAU had remained at the LAPD headquarters whilst Sam, Dean and Bobby had headed to a nearby motel. The team immediately tracked the man's movements for the night to see if he was a viable suspect.
Sam lay down on the hard motel bed and sighed it had been hard work trying to find out information about a case whilst trying to pretend that it's something that it's not. Dean pulled three beers from the fridge and passed them around, he too was tired of pretending to these people but Bobby had given them strict orders not to destroy their illusions.
Sam suddenly sat up after receiving a text, "it's from Reid, he says they're tracking a suspect, they haven't got concrete evidence to bring him in yet"
Dean scoffed and took another swig of his beer, even after working with these people for several days now he was still sceptical. Years of distrust and hatred of the people who seemed to constantly be chasing their tails trying to lock them away didn't die quickly, "so what now you're in their circle of trust?"
He simply ignored his brother, "don't you see, we can go and exorcise this demon now before it causes anymore damage"
"Now hold up Speedy Gonzales, we don't even know if this guy is the killer" Bobby replied.
Sam was also sick of sitting around but it also didn't sit right with him when it was families that were being killed, parents shouldn't have to watch their children die, grandparents shouldn't have to bury their children and their grandchildren, so many lives unlived were being taken prematurely. If they had a chance of stopping this murderous spree before anymore damage was done then he was ready to take it, "it's the best lead we've had all day" he shrugged.
Dean stood up, "I'm with you, I need to do some real work, all this waiting around isn't good for you"
It was now Sam's turn to scoff, "only cause you have to use your brain! You coming Bobby?"
"Yeah, cause I'm gonna be real useful to you two trapping a demon, I know I'll wheel over him to stop him moving!" he cried sarcastically.
The boys knew that it was killing Bobby that he couldn't do more due to his disability, they knew how strong he was and what a brilliant hunter he had become and all that was being wasted because a demon had taken that away from him just like they had taken away their parents' lives. They needed to support him as much as they could because they knew if he cracked they weren't ready for life without him.
The street was dark lit by only the dimmest lights, perfect for things to be lurking in the shadows. The Impala crept silently along the road, its black coat camouflaged into the darkness, neither brother made a sound as they prepared themselves for the first real practical work they had been able to do all case. Sam and Dean parked opposite the street where the last known sighting of the suspect had been recorded on the police system. Through the window they could see an older man in a crisp, expensive suit turn down an alleyway, it crossed their minds why such a clearly wealthy man was walking down alleyways alone at night especially in quiet, unassuming suburbs. Shortly afterwards they saw that their suspect also turned into the alley and followed.
With Ruby's knife and the flask of holy water in hand they crossed the street and down the darkened alleyway, as the brothers approached they witnessed the beginning of a struggle between the two men and hastily hurried towards it. Immediately Dean through his arms around the suspect while Sam took hold of the victim and helped him away.
Sam stared at the suspect who kept struggling in Dean's arms, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursion infernalis adversarii-" he began to recite before the man's cries stopped him.
"-Please! I don't know what you want but I'm sorry!" tears fell down his face, "I need the money, what I get paid doesn't cover the healthcare for my daughter and that man practically throws money down the toilet, I've never done anything like this before!"
Sam looked at Dean and lowered the knife, "I don't think he's a demon" he whispered.
Dean stared at his brother and wanted to slap his forehead in despair at his stupidity, "you think!?" he exclaimed sarcastically.
"You live alone though. You were seen talking to the neighbourhood kids today and lurking around this neighbourhood" Sam asked as Dean loosened his grip around the man.
He sighed, "me and my wife divorced, we were in the middle of a custody battle when our daughter got sick, she lives with her new partner around here, I thought if I got some money together to help pay then they would let me see her more often. I know some of the kids are her friends and I thought they might be able to tell me how she's getting on. I am sorry"
Dean let him go completely, "It's alright get out of here" he said calmly, the man nodded and hurried back down the road, "so what, no demon?"
Sam sighed, "it was a long shot" he looked down at his phone which had just vibrated again in his pocket, "that's Reid, there's been another attack"
The brothers left the alleyway in silence and collapsed back inside the one place where they would always feel safe, the one place that they could always return to. It was so much more than a car, it was home. Dean pushed a new cassette into the radio, leant his head back and closed his eyes as the music began to infiltrate into his mind which he happily allowed to overtake his thoughts. How much he wished he could go back to the days when it was him and Sammy fighting demons in small towns, the job would take two days tops and then they would be back on the road, laughing, pranking, acting like real brothers. A time before hell and angels and demon blood and the apocalypse, a time before Azazel and Ruby and Lilith and Zachariah and Lucifer and Michael and a time when their world made sense and it was only their mother's death which they had to avenge. The fate of the world rested on their shoulders and right now they couldn't solve a simply demon case. Had they strayed so far from their original path? Could they even call themselves hunters anymore?
They could not go back now, only forward and giving up had never been an option. They were Sam and Dean Winchester and although they did not know it at the time, they were going to win.
