So, I'm updating this as a three parter, as I figured it wouldn't take this long and to point out that this story is now officially AU, after 8.19, 'Freaks and Geeks' I hope you enjoy it, without further ado, chapter 10
Jesse had told her, that as much as New York, and this neighborhood in particular, was revered and ridiculed for their left wing politics, and how Park Slope was the epitome of stereotypes about hipsters turned parents, it was generally a façade.
Krissy had thought he was referring to some sort of supernatural threat masquerading as suburban couples with kids.
"No, I mean this place can get edgy if you're not careful. These people have a lot of specific ideas and ideals, and their not shy about defending them" Krissy looked unimpressed.
"So…
"So, this child," he gestured towards the post printed from containing a photo of Mitch Dunham which appeared to be taken from a distance without permission and captioned underneath, The new messiah?, six years of age and a description of the 'miracle' that had been visited upon him, "could be a lot of things… a hoax or some kind of psychic phenomenon. It doesn't mean the angels are here, but it does mean we have to be sensitive."
Unlike Jesse's warnings of the dangers of 'da slope', as she had seen it referred to in blogs searched by the duo, his knowledge of the possibilities of the case did impress her. Not that she would tell him, of course
"Is stigmata really something that needs to be investigated?" Jesse quirked an eyebrow.
"Because bleeding from an orifice is natural?" Jesse asked rhetorically. Krissy shifted from her spot in the small diner where they stopped to review their information, to look at him.
Evenly, she replied, "Perhaps not for you…" Jesse looked up from the file.
"What?" Krissy turned back to the papers before them and shook her head dismissively.
"I mean, even if this turns out to be real, its not exactly curable, or even dangerous. How do we stop a miracle?"
"I don't think we have to. It's just about stopping the angels."
"You think they'll show?"
"For this, yes. If it's real. If it's not, then we could, at least, find out what's going on."
It had been a week since the two had departed to search for the angels, before they found them. Jesse had decided that the best way to meet this challenge would be to locate the celestials without them expecting it.
"How in the hell are we supposed to do that, exactly? How are we hiding from them now?" Jesse sighed.
"I'm not sure, really. I think they treat me like a toxic spill; when they see a big splotch in the middle of somewhere, they strike. So, if nothing alerts them to my presence, they can't find me, or you for that matter. As for locating them, that's slightly more difficult. They may be present at significant events, although I can't be sure."
"So, BP boy, how about instead of sitting on our hands, you light up like Rudolf and get them here so we can end this once and for all?"
"I tried that before, at the school and I barely slowed them down." Krissy snorted.
"If you can barely take on four Jesus freaks, what makes you so important?" Jesse stared.
"When I'm in control," he said slowly, "I'm not very much of a threat. Yet. But if I lose myself for a second or if I'm surprised…. Bad things will happen." Krissy gazed warily.
"So you could blow any second?"
"It's possible. I once turned one of them into an action figure."
"By accident." It wasn't a question, more an incredulous statement. Jesse nodded.
"Regular people have to focus to do spectacular things. I have to focus not to do spectacularly dangerous things." She rubbed her eyes for lack of a response, but then found a question in the back of her head that she had been meaning to ask.
"Speaking of the incident at the school, what happened?" Jesse frowned.
"I thought we went over this back there-" Krissy held up her hand.
"I know you 'It's a wonderful life-ed' me and Wormwood to some alternate dimension, which by the way your 'cornfield' could use some help, professional help," she shuddered at the memory, "but what I want to know is how I got back to Kansas." Jesse thought, he hadn't considered it actually. It was a bit serendipitous.
"I suppose I could have willed you out, and I was tired, so maybe whatever happened wore off, even if the power I use isn't intentional, it still makes me tired. What do you remember from your time there?" Krissy looked away. While it hadn't been the worse she had ever seen- attending your mother's funeral at an early age will do that to you- she did not want to think about how she was dragged into somebody's head and then collaborated with a demon, even if the demon himself (itself) didn't know it was a demon.
"Basically darkness, waking up in strange places and Lucky the leprechaun, although he was a few lucky charms short of a pot of gold" Jesse squinted in confusion.
"You mean he was out of his mind?" She shrugged.
"I'm saying he didn't know who he was. Told me his name was Fergus, not…. What did you call him?"
"Crowely"
"Right. And he didn't know where he was, or what he was doing, or why. Like that place took our memories."
"Probably a self defense thing. When you got out though, everything was normal?"
"I'm here with the antichrist, hunting angels- define normal." Jesse gazed warningly.
"Cambion" Krissy rolled her eyes.
"Fine. I'm here with a cambion hunting angels. Better?" Jesse didn't answer.
"Can I ask you a question now?"
"Shoot."
"What made you so jaded towards religion?" Krissy stared, mouth agape. After a pause, and she found her voice again, she scoffed.
"I'm being asked by the antichrist," Jesse glared and she held up her hands in mock surrender, "by the cambion, about my religious credentials. Rather ironic don't you think?"
"I'm not asking about credentials; I'm asking why you refer to angels as Jesus Freaks; most people would be surprised to find that Angels would harm them. Krissy returned Jesse's gaze with a glare, then, held up three fingers.
"First, I'm guessing you haven't asked most people about this, second, even if you did, I'm not most people, third, maybe I'm just not that religious." Jesse looked at her curiously, and chose his words carefully.
"You called him Wormwood." Krissy looked confused.
"Come again?"
"You called Crowely, the demon, Wormwood." Krissy had a feeling here this was going, and was shocked by his perceptiveness. She made a note of being more careful around him. Still she played dumb.
"And that's supposed to mean….?"
"Wormwood is a character from the Screwtape Letters, a religious treaty on sin by C.S. Lewis. You must have once had some religious views, or you wouldn't have read the book."
"I read the book, so? Lots of kids read books with religious allegory in them." Jesse shook his head.
"The Screwtape Letters? It's pretty dogmatic for a fantasy text?" Jesse seemed incredulous, but also curious for an explanation that would tell him he was wrong, still trusting enough, or naïve enough to give people the benefit of doubt. However, a sinister thought crept into Krissy's mind, and she turned towards him accusingly.
"You're using your powers right now aren't you." For his part, Jesse looked taken aback. Didn't he just explain that use of his abilities could get them both killed?
"No, I'm not. It's called deduction. Not everything is supernatural, you know." Krissy didn't looked convinced, but backed down. Jesse decided to press on, otherwise he might look suspicious after such a charge. "You reveal a lot in your words, most people do, and I was just curious, is all." Krissy let out a long breath. Cambion or not, jumping to conclusions would only get her into trouble. "So, what happened?"
"First of all," Krissy's voice was small, "the book kind of lost its appeal when you realized that they were real, creatures I mean- and that's not how demons work at all; you don't need to sell sin to human they buy it wholesale." Krissy had heard enough horror stories (which was something, given the context) of how things became very bad for people to the things that put them into places they shouldn't be, exacerbated by cowardice and stupidity. "And after my mom died, I lost my taste for literature."
Krissy's raw voice left Jesse a little guilty, and the room of the motel where they lodged, all too quiet. Chancing to change the subject, Jesse offered up a few notes and the laptop they had picked up with some of the cash that Jesse had on him, as he was hesitant to use his powers other than for transportation. Flipping through the material, the silence turned slightly less uncomfortable, and the focus turned to locating the angels. The possibilities were wide, but they were able to narrow them when Jesse made an off- hand comment about his parentage.
"The difference, if you were wondering," he said, gingerly, "is that while people believe that the antichrist is unique, cambions are merely rare, and just the birth a person with one demon parent. In case you were curious." Jesse expected at best, a snarky remark, and at worst, more painful silence. Surprisingly, Krissy glanced up from her work.
"So… your 'father'," she made air quotes when she said that word, "was, what? Some demon fertility expert?" There was no malice or sarcasm in the question, just genuine curiosity. Jesse could respond to this.
"Well, my understanding, or I should say, my theory is that most demons aren't ranked but have specialties."
"Specialties?"
"Yeah. Like, some could be recruiters or deal makers, like Crowely. And I suppose that demon's function was to impregnate… you know." Krissy nodded quickly, happy to avoid the awkwardness.
"So there could be others, theoretically?" She was not eager for the silence to continue. Jesse frowned, in thought. The way the angel came at him, and the way the demon fought to claim him, it would seem he was unique. But… it didn't seem too complicated to impregnate a woman while she was possessed.
"Yes, theoretically. But the demon made it seem as though the process was hard- most women don't survive the birthing process. I guess it's a shot in the dark sort of thing." Krissy nodded.
"okay, but if there were more of you, people like you, the Angels would be after them, right."
"That would be sensible."
"Right. So what if we look for others like you, or at least that would suggest there are others like you."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, when your powers, or abilities first manifested, what happened?"
"A lot of shit, really, take your pick," Jesse replied bluntly. Krissy smirked.
"Specifics, please."
"Well, reality warping in general. Urban legends became reality. The impossible became possible. But in a specific area."
"Because your abilities were still developing."
"And still are."
"So, there should be a supernatural event that would look like a cambion right?"
"As broad as my powers seem, it would be probable."
"something strange…." Kitty scrolled through a web pages, blogs, news, message boards, until something hit her. using the qualifier, 'small children' Kitty had pulled up a page on what the site labeled as special children, expressing abilities from telekinesis to telepathy, to precognition, and other seemingly miraculous feats. It occurred to her there wasn't a great amount of difference between purported antichrists and supposed vessels of the 'Lord Almighty'; exorcism, command of the elements, divine knowledge. Something stuck out, however: stigmata: The phenomenon of people experiencing the wounds of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. Scrolling down the page of information about the cases, most of them seemed rather old, a year ago at least. However something pooped up in a medical page link to the site.
"Jesse, come here, this look like something your angel buddies would be into?" Jesse frowned.
"They are not my buddies." Still, he looked over Krissy's shoulder.
"Bleeding from the wrists, but with no discomfort."
"Seems legit. Doesn't say hands."
"Because it is impossible to nail someone to a board through their hands."
"Correct."
"This child may be in danger."
"Why would the Angels want to harm a kid with stigmata? Isn't that a calling card of their boss?"
"It's a sign of Jesus. Most denominations disagree on why stigmata appears; some say it's a sign of possession, some a divine miracle. Besides the angels seem more Old Testament, rather than New Testament. I haven't seen or heard of Jesus in any of the encounters I've had, and if the angels were intent on killing me, I guess they don't have a belief in a messiah to do it for them, or aren't aware of one."
"So, they'll just kill him, because…? If they don't know or believe Jesus, what does it matter to them?"
"People could start regarding this boy as an idol."
"And the angels won't like that?"
"No."
"As opposed to money, fame and other religions?"
"I gather they're more in the business of enforcing God's will, or what they believe it to be. Since most religions have a central god, most people live within rules like the Ten Commandments, and such. But if people start to make up false doctrine…."
"The angels will come to set them straight for trying to change the religion, rather than just obeying a different one."
"Correct," Jesse said mocking Krissy's earlier superiority. She ignored it.
"You can get us there?"
"I don't see how the angels would track us. They can only monitor a particular area- and only if they are aware of it, something catches their attention."
"Two people randomly showing up won't?"
"If my understanding is correct, with the advent of modern technology, it's hard for them to tell the difference between the supernatural and the advancements of humanity. Unless they're sure, they won't strike."
"If your understanding is correct."
"Well, it is a gamble, but so far, we've been safe. The only added risk is if the angels are there already."
"You back up to full strength? Or is half of my body going to be left here?"
"Teleportation is easy. It's the one ability that never gives me trouble, even when I'm tired."
"If you say so." Krissy wasn't really concerned. One of the few past times she had was poking fun at Jesse, who was rather rigid for a teenager. She wasn't a barrel of fun either, but at least she didn't speak as though giving a lecture. In fact, this was the first time, Krissy had heard the boy curse, or speak without eloquence in the entirety of the time they had been together. Deciding not to make the same mistake he had in asking about her religious ideals, she avoided bringing it up, and the two quickly found themselves in an urban area (Jesse had memorized a picture of Central Park) brownstone buildings in the distance visible, as they had appeared near one of the entrances. Krissy made a show of checking for missing body parts and Jesse trotted away from her. After a pause to make sure there was not going to be an angel ambush, the two exited the park, their arrival masked by the ambiguity of such an open space.
Krissy took in their surroundings as they walked along the edge of the park's enclosure. The park was massive, but nothing compared to the wood lands she had seen when traveling with her father. For some reason though, the park looked bigger because of it's ensconce in the gray of the concrete; it was as though she were looking at the eye of some great and massive creature, or a portal to some world. She could imagine plummeting from the sky into that vastness: for it looked like she were staring down at the world, rather than across. Krissy let out a breath.
"This land mass gets more smooth towards the center than the edges."
"Come again?"
"That's why you're feeling the vertigo-I noticed you looked a little pale- it's more uneven and wide spaces magnify the effect you otherwise wouldn't notice, like this park." Glancing back at the area, Krissy turned and began a faster pace.
"Thanks for the science lesson, Professor Beakman."
"I know that's an insult, but you're welcome." Krissy and Jesse walked a little further before he spoke again.
"So, what exactly is out plan, here?" She stopped and spun to face him.
"You mean, you don't have one?" To Jesse's surprise, the question wasn't accusing, but merely curious.
"I do, but I believed you would be resistant, and have your own ideas. So I decided it would be best to allow yours to… run its course.
"You mean fall apart and have me rely on you." It wasn't a question, and it had that adversarial edge it didn't before.
"You said it, not I." Krissy narrowed her eyes, but stopped and drew out a long breath.
"Look, I want the same thing you do, that is, the same thing I assume you do. So how about we compare plans and get on with it?"
Sitting in a small coffee shop-the Starbucks was too crowded and made Krissy feel exposed-at a corner table, with the largest thing on the menu they could afford, the two focused on specifics after Jesse's warnings about the locals. They needed time, and it was hard to plan with the manager checking if you wanted anything else.
"So staking out the house is agreed upon?" The duo had found the building fairly quickly. It wasn't a hose as much as it was an apartment, but what led them to it was outside, on the front steps. Several candles extinguished, their light superfluous in the day time. Displaying the images of saints, eyes shut in pastel colors, surrounded by flowers in the form of a small shrine. Without notes of condolences, this was most assuredly a tribute to a miracle, the flowers bright and colorful, and no trace of mourning present. Jesse had made a note that the shrine was likely erected by those of a catholic denomination, as displaying saints is a cultural phenomenon, and generally not in the practices of other denominations. Unfortunately there was no way of telling which apartment the kid was on, and as Krissy pointed out, it was not wise to be seen near the shrine if the angels had already arrived, or if other elements such as a super or a tenant spied them and called the police, so they quickly left.
"Yes, but how?"
"Well generally from a car, but in this case the bushes will have to do." Jesse frowned. Krissy raised her eyebrows. "You have a better idea?" The boy glanced out the window. She waited expectantly.
"Well, and keep in mind, this is the part I believe you'll be resistant, I think it would be better to set up a station in the house across the street." Krissy looked inquisitive.
"How do we do that without renting an apartment?" Jesse paused.
"My abilities shouldn't alert out targets to our presence…." He paused again.
"Good for you. How does that help us?" Jesse averted his eyes again.
"Well-
"Spit it out!" Krissy spoke a bit too harshly for a hushed whisper and a few of the other patrons turn to stare. Waiting the awkward moments until they turned back to their drinks and papers, Krissy leaned in closer.
"We don't have a lot of time okay? How long before those angels come looking for us? How long before we lose the advantage of surprise?" More determined now, Jesse nodded.
"Right. You see, I can cloak myself and others, manipulate reality in this way so that we could appear to be more prospective buyers for an apartment that became available shortly after the news broke about the boy's condition, I guess they didn't like the sort that started flocking to the building."
"They left, but the people in the apartments in the actual building stayed?" Jesse shrugged.
"Perhaps they were more sympathetic, knowing the child and his parents?" Krissy shifted, glancing out the window; the streets separating the apartment complexes were narrow, the roads less dominating with buildings and individual trees staking their claim for attention, than on the open highway to which she was accustomed. She had seen big cities before, but never this blend of microcosms.
"But across the street makes that much of a difference?" Jesse nodded.
"I told you that there were divides here, territories almost. I matters more here than in other parts of the community."
"Logistically or supernaturally?"
"Both, actually; NYC is rife with cases, from urban legends to psychic phenomena. And a heavy amount of differing religions, cultures and beliefs as well-" Krissy held up her hands.
"I get it. So when the four amigos show up, what then?"
"We draw these sigils around the building, so they can't get in. What was your idea?"
"I was wondering if they got in, but these symbols were on every surface outside, then they couldn't leave? Or does it not work that way?"
"Generally the sigils keep angels out; however it would stand to reason that they couldn't teleport out of a space if blocked by sigils, since the building acts as outside space. Of course that creates the problem of how do we protect the persons inside and how do we stop their attempts to destroy the building, as the sigils only trap them, it doesn't mean it'll weaken them." Krissy thought for a moment.
"How about placing sigils on the doors in places the tenants wouldn't notice? Then the ass-hats would be stuck inside but unable to enter, and unable to leave."
"And once their trapped…?"
"Can't you work your powers to trap them in a world like you did me and the demon? And figure out how to kill them permanently, without the 'angel killing blade' they carry? Or, I don't know, do something to them. You're the anti- you're the cambion," she switched when Jesse opened his mouth to protest, "aren't you able to…. Vanquish an angel if it's trapped and you can get a hold on it?" Jesse had made a big deal about his abilities, their dangers their problems- if he admitted that he couldn't handle the celestials when they were boxed in, he first, would be wrong, likely; the angels wouldn't care otherwise and found he could do things a little easier and a little better day by day and second, he would feel like a coward if he didn't at least try.
"Vanquish, not necessarily, confuse and disorient yes, probably."
"So once we trap 'em you'll work that voodoo you do so well and focus on rendering them harmless." Jesse stared. Krissy tried to reassure him. "Be creative, mix and match, through a curve ball in there, you know?" Jesse had a wry smile.
"Are you advising me on how to defeat our enemy or tips for my first time with a girl?" The phrasing was awkward and it took a moment for Krissy to catch the joke. When it sunk in though, Jesse and her herself were surprised by the snorting laugh that burst forth, Krissy clasping her hands over her mouth, certain of the confused and a little agitated stares of those around them. Jesse had been prepared for at best a retort in kind. The genuine laugh produced a genuine smile, and Jesse couldn't help but think that Krissy, for a moment looked like a normal girl. Jesse's smile faltered.
Jesse was no authority on normal.
Krissy sobered from the high of her laughing fit, and frowned. "We're forgetting something."
"That goes without saying; but what we can't anticipate will have to be dealt with on the fly." He took an experimental sip of the now cooled coffee, and found it not unappealing. Krissy shook her head.
"I mean this is a supernatural event, and we haven't considered the cause of it." Jesse nodded sagely, that was a good point. Something in him told him to stop being so lax, that he was supposed to be solving this on his own and dealing with his unexpected companion. Hoping to silence that nagging feeling and answer Krissy's concern, Jesse came up with a few explanations that may require their involvement.
"Well, it could be the work of a spell, a curse, or a way for the parents to bring in money by exploiting their son, or possibly the result of some deal, or some occupying entity within the boy."
"Like a parasite?" Jesse tipped his head in consideration.
"Somewhat like that, in the vein of creating followers. I mean, the theories are, as stated before, all over the place." Krissy sighed.
"Looks like we're going to have to do some leg work."
This was the part of hunting she hated.
Research could be mind numbing and dead end half the time, and theory postulating frequently served as a lesson in humiliation when you realized you had overlooked that crucial point of information - the only reason that mortification hadn't yet turned to crushing guilt was due to the fact that most of her efforts up till now had been theoretical, or general, and Krissy gave so many caveats to her aid that it sounded like a contract for a new car, (information may not be correct. Client hunts at his/her own risk and takes on all responsibility here on in, including but not limited to death, torture, possession, being sired as a vampire/werewolf/undead creature/etc, soul crushing guilt, crisis of conscience, …. Client promises not to seek revenge as said undead creature/vengeful spirit and horribly murder this scared little girl trying to act tough and professional.) and was taken with a grain of salt, even if she was Lee's kid, she was still a kid.
Hunting itself was fine- testing out one's own theory removed the guilt and allowed for the credit, which wasn't the point, but still, without credit no one would listen to a hunter, and no one would help, risk their hide for a suicide mission of incompetence.
But the legwork- talking to people to get a handle on what things were was always the worst part. It was a consensus agreed upon by many hunters, or at least the majority that Krissy overheard whenever they came over to talk shop or play cards with Lee, that talking to someone who just lost a friend, loved one or saw something horrible done to a complete stranger was the worst, pretending that everything was all right, lying to their face that what they have seen isn't what they thought, or being complicit in the act of keeping someone ignorant of what was out there made them feel like bastards.
Krissy had little experience of course; no matter how good a fake badge is, how seamless the credentials are and how confident someone is, if a four foot eleven baby-faced girl comes up to a lead claiming to be an agent, or an officer or other figure of authority, those individuals will become suspicious.
But that was just an excuse. There were ways around it.
Like now, as Krissy buttoned up the sky blue dress shirt and tucked it into a pencil skirt. After a stop at a department store, intentional- social workers shouldn't wear designer duds, as Jesse pointed out.
Krissy stared at him for a full minute after that.
The purchase of a purse that served as file holder (filled with the information they had already collected, ironically) completed the look. Almost.
Krissy stared at the half demon boy, tube of ruby red lipstick in hand.
"I'm a social worker, not a call girl." Jesse tilted his head.
"You equate a little make up with prostitution? How odd." Krissy huffed at the assertion.
"I'm not equating anything. It's just, it's really…. Bright. Jesse nodded.
"Of course it is. You're a social worker, you don't really have an eye for colors."
"Then why does it matter if I put that crap on my face?" Krissy had gritted her teeth.
"Because you're character wants to look pretty, even if no one else looks at her like that."
"This is a case, not fucking Argo. No one cares."
"Of course they do. In the modern world people have a lot of time to think. They have a lot of time to, thusly, judge. And this lipstick is the easiest way to make them judge you as a lower middle class social worker with no aptitude for physical appearance, but as someone who tries." Krissy shut her eyes, accepting the inevitable.
"Fine, give me the damn thing." Jesse handed the brass colored tube over. Staring in the bathroom mirror of the motel they were in currently, using the last of Jesse stash, Krissy awkwardly tried to get into a position to apply the coating, but every time she got close, she felt as though it would smear all over her face. Jesse stared, but made no move to assist. She realized he was waiting to be asked.
"Would you mind?" she held out the tube to him, who seemed relieved she finally gave in, and trotted over.
"Pucker up, like a fish," Jesse instructed, and for a brief moment Krissy felt like a character from a Beverly Cleary novel.
"There you go, all done." Jesse stepped back to admire his work, as Krissy glanced in the mirror. Her skin wasn't pale, so much as it wasn't all that tan, yet because the color was so bright, in comparison she looked like a ghost.
"Thanks Beezus"
"Come again?" She shook her head.
"Don't worry about it." Taking a step back to observe her new look, she was glad they had avoided the heels that Jesse had suggested; no amount of practice could help her master the art of stiletto. Instead the flats looked more like her, or at least the version she was trying to channel in order to convince a worried mom beset by religious fanatics who thought her child was a harbinger of the second coming, and possibly burdened by angels who thought the exact opposite, and were to ensure that it did not happen with extreme prejudice.
Krissy was supposed to like challenges. She nodded, mostly to herself/
"Let's do this."
"That won't be necessary, Ms. Orson, I'll only be here a little while." Krissy or 'Alyssa Matthews' (she pulled two random names out of a television show, Charmed, when she realized that after everything, they hadn't decided on a name for her) waved off the offer of tea. Suggesting the time of the visit would be short waved off suspicion as well, although Patricia Orson seem to relax a lot, although not completely, when Krissy assured her that her visit was because of reports of "external instigators" and not about her parenting.
"So, I just need to ask a few questions, and I'll be on my way, okay?" Krissy asked in a sweet voice. The woman nodded.
"Sounds great." If this was how she looked when she thought something was great, she must be an absolute mess when upset, Krissy thought sarcastically. Krissy nodded as well and pulled out a clipboard, with a few questions scrawled on it (which Jesse had infuriatingly insisted on calling a prop) and smiled again, wondering if it were too fake at first, and then realizing that if she really were Alyssa Matthews, social worker, it probably would be.
"Okay, so firstly, I'd like to know, how long ago", she internally winced as how many of her sentences rhymed, "did the, ah, incident occur?" Patricia paled.
"Well, until I got that call from school, his school, I mean, I work at an office, paralegal, um, which was three weeks ago, the call that is, not when I started working…. everything seemed fine, my doctor, that is, my pediatrician says everything is fine with him, it's just he doesn't talk much, my son I mean, the doctor talks a lot… but I always listen. Because it's important to, you know?" Krissy detected a moistly dropped valley girl accent, and the woman seemed to stop herself every time the inflexion made itself present. Krissy nodded, shit-eating grin still plastered across her face.
"Sure, sure. Next question. Has there been any odd disturbances?" Krissy watched the woman warily, both for suspicion and a tell, if she was lying.
"Like what?"
"Anything, really. Strange persons, out of the blue visits, anything that seems strange, out of the ordinary." Besides me, Krissy thought, cursing Jake for the oddity of the questions. If the woman was off-put, her demeanor showed no change.
"Well, the whole blood thing aside, and those church going people out there with that shrine," her face wrinkled in distaste, and Patricia paused, "not that I frown upon the church, or anything, I'm not particularly religious, or anything…. But I believe in god…" She blinked, realizing she had forgotten the original question momentarily. "nothing strange besides that, not I can think of… at the moment.
"By the way, how long have these church going people visited your place of residence?"
"About a week after it happened, I heard a sort of, well, hymnal, I suppose, and looked out to see them there, and then they started to ring my bell, I don't know how they got my name, and I didn't answer. But I was scared, and I called the police, and they scattered when they came, but they've been coming back every other night since, even after Lou- he's the super- took away their shrine, the built a new one. Twice." Krissy nodded. "The police say they can't do anything, cause they- technically- haven't done anything wrong, really."
The last question was Krissy's own. It was hard for her to understand how people could just show up and start offering up… What was the word Jesse used? - Praise- convinced of certainty, especially when the focus of that conviction didn't want to be bothered, or in Mitch's case, couldn't comprehend it. Noticing the woman staring, waiting for her to continue, Krissy mentally shook herself out of her revere.
Scanning the list of questions prepared, Krissy found one that felt appropriate, if uncomfortable.
"I don't mean to pry, but do you have contact with Mitch's father?" Patricia swallowed thickly. Krissy frowned, though more at herself than the woman's reaction. How is that anything but prying? Krissy waited for a moment.
"It's only a formality of course-"
"No, no, I understand it's just that, I'm not really sure who he is… Mitch's father, that is. That's why I left the birth certificate blank, right?" Krissy's eyebrows rose. That last statement made Krissy feel like a mall Santa who had been asked why she didn't know the names of the children without asking them.
"I'm aware, but sometimes it's a matter of preference rather than not knowing. Patricia nodded, seemingly accepting that answer. "Do you mind if I ask about his birth?" Patricia shook her head and waited.
"Were there any complications besides what would be in a medical file? Something you didn't want to report?" Patricia looked down and fiddled with her hands. "It's very important, in order to compile a full report, in order to help end this."
Krissy pushed.
"After I had him, I had very bad… I want to say PPD, but it didn't feel that way."
"How do you mean?"
"I had him young… not that young, but young enough that for a little bit, I didn't want him, and was angry with myself for g-getting caught. And I was really careful." This last part was said mostly to her self, but Krissy caught it, not making any response. "But after a while I got used to it, and I-I felt proud that I could handle it- with a little help from my parents, of course, the apartments in this area don't come cheap, you know?" Krissy nodded, but still remembered that last comment. Exits were the worst of footwork, and now that she had what she needed, she wanted to make a hasty one.
"That's great. Sounds like Mitch has a great home here." She pretended to ruffle a few pages, glancing at the woman who had brightened significantly at the compliment. "And I'll get this information back to my supervisor and see if we can't get rid of those individuals for you, how does that sound?" Krissy stood and Patricia followed, walking her to the door, glad to have made a good impression, even, as the girl could see, the woman didn't understand how.
Outside, Krissy let go of a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
Walking down the block, she pulled out a pre paid phone, and dialed Jesse.
"Hello?"
"Sup, Jumper?" I think I've got a lead." She was giddy, high from the success of charade.
"Jumper?" Krissy rolled her eyes.
"Your take-away from 'I've got a lead' is to focus on a nickname?"
"Steven Gould's coming of age story, right, because of my powers?"
"Jesse, focus"
"I'm just appreciating your sense of humor, clever reference, that. What's the lead, Millie?"
"I am not Millie to your David!"
"Now who's hung up over a nickname? Tell me about the lead."
"She said she was very careful, and after having the kid, she felt off about him." There was a pause.
That's a lot of women, Krissy"
"She doesn't know the father, and seemed reluctant to discuss it."
"Again a lot of women. It's a national tragedy, I hear." Krissy stopped walking.
"Ha-Ha. Trust me, okay. What would be the point of this, anyway? She's freaked out by the people coming to her apartment. She's just trying to be a good mother. And when she told me about the kid's father, she looked like she was sick, almost dreading it. Why would she be that way? Do you think she's worried about what I think?"
"How do you mean?"
"It was like she told me that she didn't know as an excuse… what could be so bad?" Krissy could hear the sympathy in her own voice.
"The father could be a criminal or abusive… It might be necessary to obtain some information."
"I don't think this disguise is going to work on medical doctors, or actual social workers."
"I'll be doing the, what did you say, legwork, this time."
"Won't that attract the attention of you- know- who?" Krissy wasn't superstitious, but she damn sure didn't want to be responsible for their deaths, and felt that their enemies could be listening.
"Not if I use it on myself. The angels are more… big than small changes in the world, they don't notice if a single person goes missing or changes, only if something against natural law becomes reality."
"Unless they're looking." Jesse made a noise of agreement on the other end.
"Do you have the hospital name?" Krissy pulled out the info she had gathered under guise of 'initial information'.
"Let's see… New York Presbyterian…. Why?"
"I have an idea. I will meet you back at the motel in an hour… hopefully. Assuming everything goes well, of course.
"And if it doesn't?"
"Good luck to you, then." Krissy gaped at the cell.
"That's it?"
"As you've pointed out to me this is a temporary partnership. I have no expectation of you coming to find me." It wasn't lost on Krissy that the reverse did not hold true for Jesse.
"Sounds like a plan," She replied neutrally.
"See you then." She hit the off button without saying anything.
She would be damned, no pun intended, to be made to feel guilty by a demon child.
"Dr. Winslow?"
'Dr. Winslow' smiled at the medical assistant who handed the files he had asked for.
"Thank you. These will be a great help in my research." Sitting at a work station in New York Presbyterian, the good doctor flipped through some of the documents.
Jesse would have to be careful. If he became to engrossed he might just be too relaxed and let his current visage, Doctor Aaron Winslow, from Milwaukee, specializing in gynecology and currently conducting a research study in early in life pregnancies after eighteen years of age (because the interest was in the psychological aspect, and earlier subjects would have serious medical complications, and thus would queer the results). As of now, Jesse had a five o'clock shadow, jet lag and bags under his eyes because he wasn't used to the New York noise and commotion. Jesses even had a funny Milwaukee story, 'if anyone cared to hear it?'
Sifting through the folders- births from a particular month (Mitch's of course) and began looking for something out of the ordinary.
Particularly, multiple births that did not have a father listed. Multiple events meant a source, and would give an established time frame. In Jesse's understanding, most supernatural creatures did things in patterns- hunt, feed, sleep, awaken, mate- and so if they could find a pattern, they would have their supernatural being.
All in all, Jesse wasn't really lying; he was conducting a research study.
So far, as Jesse scribbled notes in a note pad, none of the births showed a pattern in the month that Mitch had been born. He considered phoning Krissy to ask if August was the correct birth month, but figured it was more likely that he was missing something. Krissy wouldn't get something this important wrong.
But what? If there's no pattern of children, maybe Mitch was special, or his mother is at least. But how to select a mate.
Jesse was aware of the parallels between his search and his own…. Conception. Perhaps he was biased to assume that, if legit, this had to be a case of paranormal breeding?
Jesse did not trust Krissy's assertion, but the only way to find out would be to try a few hypotheses and see if anything stuck. Still, Jesse understood the effect authority had on people, even her faux social worker guise- it did not seem likely that this woman would lie to cover the criminality or abuse of a man she was no longer with, absent any fear, except when the child was brought up. That suggested to him that the birth was odd, and if it was merely embarrassment over being unable to identify his father, she wouldn't have been so quick to respond.
Jesse, however, trusted Krissy's instincts, and judgment, especially of people, but then, outside of dry quantities such as behavior and cognition, he wasn't an expert, so he had nothing to gauge her by.
And if the birth is the problem, the conception might be the solution.
Perhaps… Mitch is six, so… seven years ago.
If Mitch was a child of something other than the usual means, than seven years ago, accounting for fetal development, there should be some disturbance.
Checking to see that he hadn't inadvertently reverted, Jesse turned to the internet icon on the workstations computer, and hit the various search browsers, looking for odd incidents in the area, around 2006. Unfortunately 'odd' was a poor key word, this being New York, and was too general.
What word do people use to describe that which mystifies them, or has no answer?
Jesse typed 'Unexplained' in to the search browser, narrowing the results he queued to nothing later than 2006, and then 2007, not having an exact date, and considering that while the birth might have been natural enough to have in a hospital, the period of development didn't have to be.
Nothing for 2006, 2007 didn't seem to hold any answers, until….
A news article describing a black out. In the area, blamed on the faulty electric grid, a major black out had lasted for two days at least, three or four in other parts of the northeast. There were no other such outages that were similar in time and geography, and in all sense was an outlier.
Jesse/Dr. Winslow scanned a few more pages searching for any other possible leads, but found nothing as convincing. It was a little on the nose, but in the realm of the supernatural, concessions of complete understanding had to be made. Deciding it would be too risky to print, as the staff might ask questions over such an unusual document, for a gynecologist at least, he scribbled down any pertinent information, such as locations, officials to contact (or at least research) and leads in the subsequent investigation.
Getting ready to leave, something else occurred to him. Sitting back down, Jesse searched through the pages for similar incidents. Finding nothing, even after searching for similar blackouts or electrical disturbances in smaller areas, Jesse tried a shot in the dark.
Removing blackouts, he replaced it with 'weather outliers' and found a few notes of interest- a freak snowstorm in April, a massive one just two years ago, a string of heat waves every summer in the nineties, and after that last snowstorm, barely anything, in terms or precipitation. Another thought struck and Dr. Winslow's hands stilled over the keyboard. Jesse's swallowed.
I'm on official business… I don't have time to revel in my own problems. A sneaking suspicion told him otherwise, why he wouldn't check the circumstances around his own birth.
He was afraid.
A beeping from his phone told him at least fifty minutes had passed in the body of Aaron Winslow, and that it was time to check in with Krissy.
Saved by the bell.
Krissy glared at the phone displaying incoming call, sitting on the bed. This was the second time Jesse had tried to reach her, as, baring a wrong number, no one else would call; no one else had the number. Gripping it more tightly than necessary, Krissy took the phone in hand, and jabbed at the button to answer.
"What?" There was a scoff at the other end of the line.
"You're supposed to say hello- manners, my dear."
"Fuck off. What'd you get?"
"I'm still not sure this is a concrete case, but there is an oddity close to when the child would have been conceived- besides, there's still chance the angels will show, if they believe that the attention this child receives will cause problems."
"What oddity?"
"Blackout, in 2007. I didn't find anything off with the births, they seem relatively normal. But if this a singular, idiosyncratic case, than that shouldn't deter us. And a blackout usually means something big, unique."
"Any theories?" There was no answer. Krissy scowled. "Crappy prepaid phones…" she turned and started at the smiling face of Jesse, reflexively hurling the burner phone at him. After a fumble or two, he caught it.
"None at the moment, actually" He grinned wildly. "Sorry to startle you" Jesse wasn't, if his stifled laughter was any indication.
"All that power and you use it to play stupid tricks. Your parents must be so prou-" Krissy shut her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Krissy opened her eyes. Jesse stood there, and she silently thanked whoever was responsible for that small miracle. Jesse eyebrow was quirked. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be an asshole." Jesse frowned.
"Why would you-oh. I assumed you meant my adoptive parents, and even then…. I wouldn't know.
"What?"
"If they're proud of me, or would have accepted me. It is a lot to handle, after all."
"Not helping me make any less guilty, here."
"Sorry." Jesse seemed sincere this time. That worked out better than I expected, Krissy thought.
"Right, er, me too. Let's just get back to work, sound good?" The boy brightened.
"Sounds great, actually," he chirped. Krissy nodded slowly, unsettled by the rapid change in demeanor.
"So what causes black outs, besides you, I mean?"
"That wasn't me. My bet is that our demon instigator brought the angels with him, while he was tracking me, so that he could sic them when he thought best, and they caused the power disruptions. Didn't work out too well for Fergie, did it now?" Jesse laughed at the nickname.
"Jesse." He stopped laughing and glanced at her. She seemed annoyed.
"What's wrong?" Krissy sighed.
"Angels can cause blackouts?"
"Sure. You see, they generate an electromagnetic field that when entering the atmosphere acts like a sunspot disrupting electricity, communication signals and like-" For the second time in as many days, Krissy held up her hand to stop the stream of information.
"No, Jesse. Think this through. Angels cause blackouts. We're looking for a supernatural being or phenomenon that causes blackouts. See where I'm going with this?"
"Well, it's a bit unorthodox. Most angels opinions of humans is rather low. I believe they refer to us as 'mud monkeys' from what I gleamed in my last encounter with one, although this one seemed more sympathetic."
"Was that before or after it tried to kill you?"
"Point taken, but, it only serves my argument; angels wouldn't be caught dead with a human, at least, not in that capacity."
"You're telling me it's impossible.?"
"Not impossible, no. The Christian bible speaks of the nephilim, or the children of the servants of God and the off spring of man, implying that the mother was human and the father was a fallen angel. But from what I gather, the only fallen angel is the fallen angel.
"The devil."
"Lucifer, yes."
"Didn't other angels fall with him?" Jesse stayed quiet.
"I believe the angel I knew was too young, relative to angels, of course, to have seen the fall of Lucifer. In Castiel's mind, that particular angel was one of the first, and he was on of the last created."
"Angels have names?"
"You seem surprised."
"What would they need names for?" Jesse shrugged as his response, one of the only indicators, Krissy noted, that the boy was truly a teenager.
"Something to put on their nametags, perhaps, that say, 'Hi! I'm so and so." There was a lull in the conversation, before Krissy realized she recognized the name.
"Castiel? Is that what you said?" Jesse nodded, not looking at her, flipping through a few of the documents.
"Was any one with him?" Now Jesse met her gaze.
"Two hunters, Sam and Dean Winchester." He paused before adding, "Friends of yours?"
"Something like that." Krissy gazed out the window of their motel room. "Small world, the odds of us both knowing the Winchesters.
"Is something out there?" Krissy frowned.
"You ever get the feeling you're being watched?" Jesse looked out the window.
"All the time"
Kate hissed as the muscles in her neck resisted her attempts to loosen them, the crick only seeming to grow worse as she turned her head from side to side. She knew she shouldn't have fallen asleep on the ride over, but staying awake for such a long car ride, right after dealing with a vengeful spirit proved to be too much for her.
Apparently Kitsunes did not have the same issues. Jacob was in good spirits, and excited, having revised his theory about the Winchesters after some research.
"This could be the one. It's strange enough, after all." Resting against the Monte, Kate was not impressed.
"What, a blood thirsty spirit isn't good enough for them?" Kate hardly thought she, or Michael and even Brian, for that matter were worse than the incorporeal menace.
"These guys are professionals. They've been known to come back again and again, even from certain death." Like cockroaches, he thought. "It's unlikely they worry about vengeful spirits, no matter who it kills. If Kate caught the distaste in Jacob's tone, she seemed to ignore it.
"Okay, but how do we get to talk to anyone about what happened? I don't think my cop disguise will work twice, especially since it's styled after the New York police uniform.
Jacob grinned. "I've thought about that."
Kate, decked out in… the clothes she slept in, arrived on the scene, phone set to record. Posing as a student journalist was much easier, as she wasn't paralyzed with fear; she was lying in no way- she was, once at least, a student, and she was attempting to find out what was going on here.
Of course she had the added mission of spying the Winchesters, before they spotted her. it occurred to her to question Jacob's motives, but as he was always elusive, she resigned to keeping alert if he seemed to do anything rash.
Approaching the mob surrounding the high school, she saw neither of the two, but did see what looked like a federal agent speaking to the crowd. Aping the reporters around her, she placed her phone amid the microphones, recorders, and similar devices as the agent spoke.
"…..there appears to be nothing suspicious here, folks. Just an unusual, but natural phenomenon involving water tables and poor construction." A reporter spoke up.
"So you're saying marble was altered because it was poorly constructed?" She didn't sound convinced.
"We believe that what was told to the school board to be marble was actually a lower grade and cheaper substitute, but was billed as marble in order to cheat the school out of money. We're not sure what substance as of yet," he concluded, reacting to a raised hand, which was then put down. Another went up in its place- Kate's. The reporters glanced at her, and Kate swallowed, but immediately relaxed when they rubbernecked to look at the agent for an answer.
"Will criminal charges be filed?" The federal agent paused, as if startled by the question, which she thought was rather routine.
"Locating the company that provided the service will be up to the local officials and the school board. Our, the FBI'S inquiry is whether any suspicious, possibly dangerous or related activity was involved and it does not appear to be. One more question." Kate tuned out the last question, paying attention to the agents reaction. The man was in his late forties, early fifties, and only now beginning to gray in places. Kate flashed back to Detective Clarkson- who was already gray-haired despite looking to be the same age. He seemed unkempt for a federal agent, not untidy or sloppy, just not as formal. He seemed an odd choice for the role he was given, public speaking, and seemed just as interested in the reporters as did the reporters in what he had to say, maybe even more so. Finally Kate noticed his eyes falling on her every so often.
"Thank you, that'll be all." The agent turned away, and the reporters began to disperse. Kate paused, watching the agent go back into the school. She turned to leave and return to the car but paused. She felt the eerie feeling of being watched and looked back at the building. Seeing nothing, she hesitated, sure that the 'agent' was watching. She stopped, and defiantly glared at the brick, not willing to play in her mind, a game of cat and mouse.
Or werewolf and hunter…
It seems Krissy Chambers fics are popular now, and hopefully someone will add her to the character roster, or maybe tell me how to do it, since I'd also like to add Jacob and Kate, as allows up to four characters per fic now. Anyway, chapter eleven will finally reveal who- or what- fathered Mitch and if you haven't already figured it out, deal with Kate's confrontation with Lee. Till then~ LoungeLizard.