Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any characters affiliated with the show. Now, on to the story!
Chapter 13: One Tuesday Later
Sam had always known where the main headquarters for the LPD was in Lawrence. He had seen it numerous times in his travels through the city, though he had to admit he'd never really spent much time in the downtown area of the city. Located deep in the heart of Lawrence, it was an intimidatingly large brick building several stories high, its clearly aged appearance made more prominent by the newer buildings on the street. Nevertheless, it obviously held pride of place, as it took up a whole street corner and even had its own parking garage due to the sheer amount of people that worked and passed through the place.
"This is probably going to sound stupid, but...why exactly are we here again?" the Winchester asked as Gabe pulled into the parking garage and parked sloppily, nearly clipping the corner of someone's bumper.
"You came all this way without even knowing what we're doing," Gabe chided, and Sam shrugged sheepishly as the consultant shook his head and smiled indulgently, "They've finally finished examining the contents of the bag you found at the second crime scene. The only thing inside apparently is a laptop, and it's completely encrypted."
"Did it belong to Cork?" Sam asked as they exited the Beetle and made their way to the elevator.
"That's the assumption. I have to admit, I'm not sure how much help I'm going to be since tech isn't my area of expertise at all, but I'm sure we'll figure something out."
The elevator was dingy and had seen better days, with one of the lights flickering in the corner and a variety of stains on the worn carpet, but as soon as Gabe stepped in, his aura filled the space and illuminated it. He pressed the down button, and the elevator buzzed accordingly before starting with a grinding, rumbling sound.
"Down?" the college student asked curiously, and Gabe hummed, leaning against the back of the elevator by his side.
"Forensics are mostly in the basement." he explained, "I don't suppose you know anything substantial regarding computer systems?"
Sam thought back to the old days, where he had been the one to hack into security feeds when they took down the bigger fish in the criminal sea. He had been relegated to the computers because not only was it safer, he was also the best at it. Still, he hadn't done much beyond that, and there was only so much he could learn from both the internet in those days and John.
"Not really," he said, deciding to fib slightly. it wasn't even that big of a lie really. He hadn't hacked anything in years, and his limited skills were probably very rusty.
The elevator doors slid open with what sounded like a painful hiss, and the duo stepped out into a tiled hall that was just as dingy as the elevator they had just left. There was a faint scent of mold in the air, and the once white tiles were covered in scuff marks and whatnot, cracked and even missing in a few places. It was a far cry from the impressive forensic setups shown on TV, and Sam decided that was the grim truth between reality and fiction as they made their way down the hall.
"Not pretty, is it?" Gabe said as if reading his mind.
Sam sidestepped what looked like a dead cockroach and grimaced, "Not exactly. Do you come down here often?"
"Hell no, I try to avoid it as much as possible. The air alone dries out my skin, and I need to preserve my beauty," he said in a faux serious voice, batting his lashes as he gestured to his face.
Sam snorted before smirking, deciding a bit of teasing was in order, "Are you sure it's the air that's the problem?"
Gabe gasped dramatically, and the two bickered jokingly back and forth as they navigated through the twisted maze of the LPD's basement. It reminded Sam of the back corridors of the history department, except those were much more preferable to these ones. For one, the history department actually had heating and didn't stink as much. He was also sure there wasn't nearly as much exposed ductwork and pipes in their ceilings as there was here.
The hallway narrowed suddenly and sloped sharply downward. Above, the lights grew more spread out and sparse, buzzing and casting long shadows. The chilly air dampened a bit, and Sam shifted uneasily as he looked around.
"If I didn't know you, I'd say you were taking me down here to kill me or something," he said as he eyed a particularly massive cobweb spun in what looked like a sealed doorway, and Gabe chuckled. Their arms brushed periodically as the walls closed in.
"I would never, Sam-a-lam, but it is quite suspicious looking down here, isn't it?"
"That's an understatement," Sam muttered as they turned what felt like the hundredth corner. Even with his innate sense of direction, he was having a hard time keeping track of what path they were taking, and he wondered how far underground they were now.
Just when Sam thought they'd walk all the way down to Hell itself, they finally stopped in front of an open doorway, where three people were huddled around a familiar duffel. The room was small, cramped, and dimly lit by the glow of a computer screen. There was just a table in the middle, a messy desk pushed up against the opposite wall, and numerous shelves on either side. Sam recognized Jody and Donna, but before he could register anything else, an image flashed across his eyes.
A duffel bag is unzipped. Inside is a laptop, and only that. Everything is static and color until a red flash drive hidden in the seam of the duffel reveals its secrets. Secrets, secrets, so many secrets.
The image was gone as soon as it came, leaving Sam feeling slightly disoriented as he entered the cluttered room with Gabe. Judging by the strong sense of deja vu, he had seen this before. He felt the pit of his stomach drop as he took in the duffel bag sitting on what seemed to be the only clear space in the room and the laptop beside it. The screen only contained bars of light and dark, like a barcode, and looked almost brand new.
Exactly like my vision.
If Sam had needed any more confirmation(which he hadn't really), this was it.
"Sammy, this is Frank Devereaux, one of the computer experts for the LPD. Frank, this is Sam, my new working partner," Gabe introduced.
Frank Devereaux was a man with graying hair and square glasses that looked as if he didn't leave his workroom much. Besides the badge clipped crookedly to his shirt showing his occupation, he didn't look like a typical office worker at all. His button down was open over a white undershirt, and there was a good three day's worth of stubble on his jawline. His aura was an interesting shade of dark orange, but beyond the odd color not too noticeable at all.
"Pleasure," the man said distractedly, not even looking up from his computer. Sam didn't take too much offense, as he could tell by the man's aura that was completely absorbed in his work.
"It's good to see you again Sam," Donna said before anything could get too awkward, flashing a smile from her position on Frank's right. On Frank's left, Jody took the time to shake his hand, a hint of approval lightening her aura.
"You're quite dedicated to the case, aren't you?" she asked, brown eyes regarding him curiously.
"I suppose," Sam responded vaguely. It was obvious the lead detective's mental wheels were turning, but he couldn't figure out why, so he decided to change the subject, "What's up with the computer?"
"Some fancy kind of encryption. If this was your murder victim's computer, he locked it up to the nines. There's no way I can hack into this without the key program." Frank muttered, scratching his chin as he typed something.
The computer screen changed to a blank white screen before whining in protest and cutting off to black suddenly.
"See? The only positive thing is that nobody goes to this much trouble to encrypt their computer unless they have something to hide." he pointed out, adjusting his glasses.
"You keep mentioning this key program. What is that?" Donna asked, seeming to be disconcerted by the roadblock they'd come across.
Sam stepped back slightly as Gabe moved closer to the laptop, his aura tinged with intrigue. He chewed on his lip, debating his options as Frank began to go into technical details about what exactly the laptop was doing.
He knew that the flash drive had to be the answer, but how did he go about bringing that to their attention? It was obvious they hadn't found it yet, and it'd look really suspicious if he somehow managed to find it within a few minutes. He had found the bag for Christ's sake, so he had to go about this carefully before he implicates himself somehow.
This is so complicated. Why couldn't I just stick with seeing auras?
"Plain English for the ordinary folks, Frank," Gabe interrupted, and the man sighed before gesturing to the now off laptop.
"The key program is essentially that, a key. There are dozens of different encryptions on this computer, and it'd take me forever to unlock each and every one of them individually, not to mention all the Trojan horses and whatnot I've encountered already. The key program is something that can unlock everything at once, like a master key. It should be on a flash drive or external drive or something."
"But there was no flash drive in the bag," Jody said with a frown.
Sam chewed on his lip before deciding that now was as good a time as any to step in.
Here goes nothing.
"It should be in there," he said, drawing their attention, "The killer wouldn't leave just the laptop for no reason, not if he wants us to know what's on it."
"Maybe he didn't know it was encrypted so heavily?" Donna asked, and Sam shook his head.
"No, he'd have to have known. This guy doesn't do anything by halves," he said, looking at the duffel, "May I?"
Donna and Jody looked at each other before shrugging, the blonde detective handing him the bag.
"What are you thinking, kiddo?" Gabe asked, a strange glint in his eyes as he watched the college student unzip the bag.
"This was Cork's bag," Sam said, gesturing to the card with the now dead student's name and information to locate him that was tucked into a label holder inside one of the pockets, "It's also an old bag. Most people don't bother with a label card like this unless whatever they keep inside is valuable or important to them. It's possible that Cork could've kept the flash drive on him or somewhere separately, but what if he wanted to carry both things together?"
"He'd put in in a pocket then. But we checked all the pockets," Jody said, crossing her arms in frustration.
"Cork was secretive about how he went about his test scores business," the college student said distractedly as he made a show of examining the bag, "Kevin said he was a hard person to find, and I'd bet Cork was extremely paranoid he'd be caught. Why encrypt his laptop so heavily? Therefore, he wouldn't have kept the flash drive in any old pocket. What if his laptop was confiscated?"
"There's a hidden pocket of some kind?" Gabe asked, catching on quickly as he leaned in to watch as Sam turned the bag inside out.
The Winchester felt a noticeable lump along one of the seams of the bag and smirked triumphantly as he tugged out his pocket knife(good thing it was still in his jacket pocket) and fished out the red flash drive through the narrow slot that had been sewn alongside the seam.
"Bingo," he said, holding up the object.
For a moment, everyone stared at him before Frank suddenly snatched the flash drive from him and stuck it into the computer while booting it up simultaneously.
"How did you do that?" Gabe asked incredulously as the other three crowded around the laptop.
"Educated guess," Sam muttered, and the consultant gazed at him for a long moment before suddenly beaming and nudging him with his shoulder.
"Good job Sammy. Are you sure you're meant to be a lawyer?"
"Pretty sure," the Winchester replied, but he blushed regardless at the praise.
"We're in!" Frank said as the laptop went to a home screen before multiple tabs suddenly popped up, some with green computer code against a black background, and others showing charts of some kind, "And holy crap."
"What?" Jody asked, and the computer expert began to search through the mess of open tabs on the laptop.
"A lot of these look like answer keys to tests, which confirms that he was selling them," Frank started, "There's also correspondence with some fellow classmates on prices and whatnot, and he wasn't being cheap. Hell, he must have pulled in a grand a week with his sales."
"A grand a week?" Donna asked incredulously, and Frank nodded.
"At least, which isn't too surprising given the large capacity of LU. Though where the money goes is the question," he mumbled.
"He doesn't keep all of it for himself?" Gabe asked, and Frank shook his head.
"No, a good chunk of it seems to be deposited into a separate bank account, though for who is still a mystery. Give me a minute," he said, fingers flying across the keyboard.
"What if it's a gang? Kevin did say that Cork was supposedly working for one." Sam asked as they stepped away a bit from the table. There wasn't much room, as Frank's workspace seemed to be hardly much more than a glorified closet, and there were shelves upon shelves of various electronic parts cluttering the space, along with a mess of papers at the man's desk and an overflowing wastebasket.
"Maybe the Dead Eyes," Gabe mused before pulling out his black journal. The only light in the room came from the laptop, which cast eerie shadows against the consultant's face, "Or some other gang. It could even be Reynold if the two were working together."
A sudden thought occurred to Sam, "Did anyone ever talk to Olsen and Hoffman?"
"Aye, I did," Donna said, interjecting suddenly as she walked around the table, leaving Jody to whisper with Frank, "Olsen confirmed that not only did she have a relationship with Wilkes, Hoffman was also included on the...action."
"They had threesomes?" Gabe hissed in disbelief, and Sam shuddered in revulsion.
"Now you owe me two coffees," he said, shaking his head(that mental image wasn't going away any time soon), "What about their clothing?"
"Signs of break-ins at their respective homes, but cameras caught nothing," Donna said, "This guy is slippery. All we have to go on is the description you've given us, along with your friends."
"Anything on the autopsies?" Gabe asked, and Donna smiled before handing him a flash drive.
"Kind of ironic, isn't it?" she said in regard to the flash drive, "I put all the reports on there for you, except for Wilkes, as she's pending. I think the biggest thing you should know is that apparently, Cork was killed before Reynold."
"Before? But Cork was set up after Reynold," Sam in confusion.
"What's the time difference?" Gabe asked, and Donna shrugged.
"Less than two hours for sure, but somewhere around an hour," she said, "Both suffered blunt force trauma, but while Cork was killed by his, Reynold ultimately died from the throat cut."
"Wait, so you're saying they were both killed around the same time, give or take a few hours?" the Winchester asked, and Donna nodded.
"Yep, and since there were no signs of a struggle at either Cork's dorm room or Reynold's house, the actual murder took place in some other location."
"So he knocks them out, then gets them to a specialized place where he then drains their blood and puts them on ice?" the consultant mused out loud, twirling the flash drive through his nimble fingers, "This changes a lot though. We thought Reynold was the first, but if they were killed around the same time...Let's see, we found Reynold Thursday night, and Cork Friday night. Wilkes was supposedly set up something this morning. He's on a fast timeline."
"But the lecture hall was painted up sometime Wednesday, maybe even Tuesday night," Sam pointed out, "Which means that Reynold and Cork were killed sometime then, but they weren't set up until a few days later. No one reported either of them missing in that time?"
"Negative," Jody suddenly interjected, "Though when we checked with faculty, they said that Reynold had emailed them Tuesday night saying he was sick and taking an indeterminable amount of time off to recuperate. Since he was a bachelor no one thought otherwise. He had been in class that day, which means he was killed sometime Tuesday night along with Cork. The autopsy report matches that."
"Cork disappeared for periods of time frequently according to his roommate," Donna added, "The roommate didn't think much of it until people began showing up to their room asking where he was. Apparently, no one was getting the test scores they paid for."
"Killed Tuesday night, then put on ice so that he could set them up when he wanted to," Gabe mumbled, writing in his journal, "When was the last time Olsen and Hoffman saw Wilkes?"
The two ladies exchanged glances before Jody responded, "Saturday night after they had some fun apparently. Nothing seemed to be off with her, though whether or not she was killed Saturday is something we'll have to wait on the autopsy for. Apparently, she never contacted anyone on Sundays."
"A small portion of the money was deposited weekly into a bank account one Stanely Reynold was the holder of," Frank announced, "There's another bank account that I can't track yet since it's an offshore account, but a lot more money goes into that one."
"Some for Reynold and some for the gang," Sam muttered as Jody went back to hover over Frank.
"If Reynold was already dead, then who e-mailed the faculty?" Donna asked, peach aura swirling, "The killer?"
"He can somehow wipe security cameras and managed to lock all those doors at the library, so I wouldn't put it past him," Jody responded, "I'm still hounding the security office on campus about how exactly that happened, but they're being extremely unhelpful right now."
"A lot of them don't really do anything productive," Sam commented, "They probably have no clue themselves."
"Great confidence in the system, kiddo," Gabe said dryly, and the Winchester shrugged.
"I'm just speaking the truth. It's a pretty well-known fact on campus that if something happens, it's better to rely on the LPD for help than campus security. And I never had any faith in the system to begin with."
"Can't blame you, Sammy."
"You two should get home," Jody said firmly, "Frank's going to need some time to go over the contents of the laptop thoroughly, and we're still waiting on Wilke's autopsy report. Especially you Sam, you look rough. Is that the bruise you got from the killer when you chased him?"
The college student ghosted a hand over the side of his face and nodded, "It's not so bad, but I guess we should head out. Gabe's driving is atrocious enough without having to navigate Lawrence at night."
"Hey!" the consultant protested, punching his arm, and the other three laughed as Gabe began to whine about Sam's insult to his 'amazing' driving skills.
"Oh, I should also warn you now Milton, Talbot's going to be back sometime tomorrow," Jody said with a grimace, "I don't know what she's going to do, but the higher-ups are giving her a lot of leeway with the task force."
Her aura showed she clearly didn't like this Talbot chick(who was she? She'd been mentioned in the library before, hadn't she?), and even Donna looked miffed at the thought of the mystery detective.
Gabe himself simply smiled and thanked Jody for the warning, seeming to act nonchalant about the whole thing. Sam could tell though that he was anything but, and he had an uneasy feeling in his gut. It seemed like everyone was expecting Gabe to be kicked off the case, and soon.
I hope that doesn't happen.
Back in the Beetle after nearly getting lost in what Sam now dubbed as the LPD's serial killer hallways(seriously, why was their whole basement so creepy?), Gabe turned a bit more serious. The buzz his aura had gained from all the new information they'd learned settled as he shifted in his seat, obviously contemplating something.
"You know, Sam," he started, face hidden in shadow as they pulled out of the parking garage. Even nearly past midnight, Lawrence was still awake, though there wasn't nearly as much traffic downtown as there usually was during the day, "We can still be friends after this case if you want."
Sam looked over at Gabe, who was clutching the steering wheel in a far tighter grip than his usual dangerously slack hold.
Is this the tail end of the conversation we started in the library?
"Really?" he blurted out before he could stop to think(great way to not make yourself look like an idiot, Winchester), and Gabe glanced over at him before smiling, his aura brightening substantially.
"Yeah, really. Why not?"
The Winchester shifted in his seat and shrugged, fiddling with a zipper on his bag. He was suddenly thinking back to the library, where he had tried to convey his thoughts before and failed epically.
If Gabe could somehow manage to bring himself to start the conversation up again, then Sam could get his thoughts across without messing up.
"I don't know, I thought maybe after this case you'd just kind of...move on? Since I wouldn't be able to help you out with it or anything, and you said yourself you like to travel a lot, so maybe you'll want to leave Lawrence after this," he mumbled.
Gabe stared at him for a second, and Sam was torn between telling him to hurry up and answer and to keep his eyes on the road. The consultant looked away just before he could tell him off though. His aura was contemplative now, swirling with thought around the man. If it weren't for the fact that his aura didn't seem too frazzled or taken aback at all, Sam would've been nervous.
"I couldn't find a better Watson in Lawrence," the P.I announced after a minute, "And about the traveling part...I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, kiddo."
Sam stared at the consultant for a second before grinning, feeling strangely euphoric at Gabe's words. It would've definitely been a moment if half a second later the P.I hadn't skidded wildly into a turn.
The rest of the drive was much more light-hearted, and by the time Sam was dropped off once more at his apartment, he found that he was reluctant to go. Unlike him though, Gabe looked beat, so he let the man drive off after exchanging goodbyes, watching the yellow Beetle from the curb until it disappeared around the corner.
Back in his apartment, Sam simply stood in the living room for a moment, mulling over what he'd learned.
Cork and Reynold had known each other and probably worked with each other by selling test scores. Reynold had never struck Sam as the kind of person to do something like that, but then, lots of people would do just about anything for a little profit. That unknown bank account probably belonged to a local gang, maybe the Dead Eyes, who Wilkes' husband may or may not have been a part of. Cork had been killed before Reynold but set up after him. Wilkes had actually been in a weird threesome relationship with Hoffman and Olsen.
The Winchester shuddered(he'd never get that mental image out of his head) before moving into the kitchen to finish the dishes. There was no feasible way he could possibly sleep tonight, but he had a night shift at the Roadhouse tomorrow(or technically today; it was past one o'clock now), and he wanted as much sleep as possible.
After cleaning the last of the dishes, Sam went to his bedroom and searched through the nightstand until he emerged with a bottle of sleeping pills. He'd never used them much unless he was suffering from extreme insomnia or needed to go to sleep quickly when he couldn't afford to roll around in bed for an hour hoping sleep would come naturally. Tonight, he knew it'd either be taking the pills or staring at the ceiling for the next three hours before he finally drifted off.
Sam ran a finger over the lid of the bottle. It had also occurred to him that maybe if he used a sleeping pill, he wouldn't sleepwalk.
Maybe, maybe not. I've already sleepwalked once today already, so maybe I won't now.
Knocking one back with a mental shrug, the college student shed his clothes and fell into bed, asleep within a few minutes.
When he woke in the morning, he discovered that he hadn't moved at all.
...
By the time Sam showed up to begin his night shift at the Roadhouse around five, he was feeling pretty good. Not only was the case progressing somewhat due to his help in finding the flash drive, he had also gotten a lot of schoolwork done earlier that morning. No one had called or texted him that morning, and he took full advantage of having the apartment to himself without any distractions. Kevin was a great roommate, but sometimes, Sam just preferred working in a space by himself.
The only blight upon his day was probably the brewing storm. While Sam liked snow, it was obvious it was going to turn Lawrence into a nightmare to navigate over the next few days if the amount of salt being laid down was any sort of measurement. People were already getting caught in traffic jams, and the general mood on the streets was that of irritation. It seemed a lot of people were sick of the snow by this point, and it affected their auras significantly.
Entering through the back door, Sam hummed happily under his breath as he stamped the slush free from his boots, the blast of warmth that enveloped him only increasing as he walked past the steamy kitchen. Judging by what he could see and hear, there was already a decent amount of people inside, so he decided to hurry and clock in as quickly as possible.
That plan got derailed as soon as he stepped into the employee room and saw Meg peering into the mirror, dabbing at a bruise n her cheek with makeup.
Smeared makeup. Hands wringing themselves as painted lips speak, dark nails chipped. A metal chair scrapes across a floor. Smoke lingers in hazy wisps. Paranoia. Trapped.
"Shit," he muttered under his breath at the vision, reeling back slightly at the intensity of it(it was sort of like having double vision), "Meg?"
The dark-haired waitress spun around, eyes wide as she dropped the makeup sponge she was using. There were faint tear tracks running down her face, smudging her eye makeup, and she looked as if she hadn't slept in a couple of days. Her aura was probably the worst of it though. It was barely purple at all, and was so small it was barely there.
"Hey, just relax," he said soothingly as she clutched her make up bag, "What happened?"
Meg stared at him for a second before her gaze darted away, her hands fumbling with her makeup as she went back to viciously dabbing foundation over the bruise.
"Nothing," she said in a surprisingly steady voice, but her hands gave her away, as they shook so bad her sponge nearly wobbled up of her grip again.
Shit. Benny had a point.
Sam sighed quietly before grabbing two of the metal folding chairs, feeling a sense of deja vu as he dragged them across the floor.
"Sit," he suggested, gesturing to one the chairs as he sat down heavily in the other. His gut was twisting uncomfortably, because now he could see another set of bruises on her neck in the shape of fingers, "And tell me what happened."
Meg scoffed derisively, but she paused before looking at the chair doubtfully.
"I'll listen to whatever you have to say," the Winchester said gently, and Meg's eyes darted towards the door before she stared at him.
"You're a fucking idiot, you know that, right Winchester?" she asked as she sat down on the edge of the seat, and Sam shrugged before spreading his hands.
"I've been told."
The waitress sighed before running a hand through her unkempt hair, tangling it further as she tugged anxiously.
"Look, I already know it's bad," she said, gesturing to herself and the bruises, "I'm not an idiot, ok? But I can't just leave."
"Why not?" Sam asked evenly, already thinking of that truck driver with the muddy aura from last week that had picked Meg up.
I swear to God if it was him...
"Kyle is..." Meg started before lowering her voice, wringing her hands(just like in his vision), "He's a thug. A Dead Eye, and a ...kind of important one too."
Sam froze mentally but made sure to keep his face as open and easy as possible.
Benny was fucking right, Meg's caught up in some gang shit. And with the Dead Eyes to boot?
"Do you think he'll hurt you if you try to leave?" the waiter asked calmly, reminding himself to keep a level head and to focus on Meg, who was growing more and more skittish in her chair.
She nodded shallowly before reaching for her purse, fumbling for a cigarette and lighter.
"I feel like such an idiot!" she hissed, clicking the lighter until she got a flame. Sam let her, even though Ellen frowned upon smoking in the break room(he figured just this once was all right), "Things in the gang were really tense the last couple of months, but I thought it was just the new deals they were making until I walked in on Kyle watching the news. He was on the phone with one of his bosses I guess, and he sounded pissed."
She inhaled deeply when she finally got her cigarette lit, and the smoke seemed to help, as her aura got a bit more purple.
"It was one of those segments on the Crucifier or whatever running around," she said, exhaling a stream of smoke through her nose. To Sam's credit, he didn't flinch when some of it hit him. Wouldn't be the first time he was around smokers, "Which I thought was weird, until Kyle started talking about him, saying that they couldn't find him yet, and then they mentioned Enochian!"
Meg seemed close to tears, which was startling to Sam, as he didn't think he'd ever seen the girl so emotional before.
"How do you know about Enochian?" he asked, which seemed to be the wrong thing to ask, as she suddenly broke down.
"Cause of Cas! I told Kyle about Cas, and that's why they're going after him now!" she said, standing so quickly she knocked the chair over.
Cas? Wait, she knows Castiel?
"Wait, Meg, calm down," Sam said, picking up her chair as the girl began to pace around the room, rubbing frantically underneath her eyes, "How do you know Castiel?"
She whipped around, looking startled as she unconsciously tapped some ash loose on some lockers.
"I-we grew up together in another town," she replied, sounding caught off guard, "You know him?"
Sam blinked, taken aback by Meg's admission. She and Castiel had grown up together?
Well, I didn't expect that of all things.
"Yeah, he's translating the Enochian for the police," he said, furrowing his brow, "He also doesn't seem to be too concerned about the Dead Eyes though, so I think you should cut yourself some slack, even though I'm not sure..."
"I was telling Kyle about Cas one time, and I mentioned that he specialized in dead languages. I guess I must've mentioned Enochian at some point. Cas was always really obsessed with it," Meg said as she sniffed, walking slowly back to her chair, "I didn't think they'd go after him though!"
"No, you couldn't have," Sam said as he encouraged her to sit down again, "You're not an actual member, are you?"
She shook her head, and the Winchester nodded.
"All right, so let me get this straight. Your boyfriend,er, Kyle, is a Dead Eye and probably told his higher-ups about Castiel. For some reason, they want the Enochian the killer is leaving behind translated, and Castiel is the best way to do it. Can you think of any reason why exactly they're so interested?"
Meg shrugged, sniffing again. Sam reached into his bag for some tissues as she spoke.
"Someone's apparently hired them to get Cas, and they're getting frustrated because they haven't reached him yet," she said, mumbling thanks as the waiter handed her some tissues, "But not because of the murders on the news. There are other messages being left around town for lots of gangs."
"What, like graffiti or something?" Sam asked, and she nodded.
"Stuff in gang territories, or tagged on vehicles and known houses where they hang out," she said, blowing her nose, "Ugh, that's so gross. Anyway, a lot of the gangs are getting antsy now because they don't know what any of it says, but they know it must be important if this guy's killing and leaving behind the same shit at the scenes."
"Any idea who hired the Dead Eyes?" he asked, and Meg shook her head.
"Just someone bigger than them. All I know is that the gangs want this to get straightened out before they put some new drug on the street."
"Drug?"
Meg nodded, tapping the red-hot end of her cigarette against the chair.
"Yeah, I don't know any details though. It's supposed to be some crazy potent shit though," she said, seeming to come back to her normal self as she dabbed at her smeared eye makeup, "It doesn't help that Trent's dead too."
"Trent Cork?"
"Yeah, that Trent," Meg said, eyeing him shrewdly, "You knew him too?"
Sam shook his head, "I know a guy working the case. What did you know about him?"
"He owed one of the Dead Eye leaders some money when he was a freshman, and he started paying it off by selling test scores. Then he got good at it, and the Dead Eyes didn't want to let him go. He brought in too much profit," Meg explained, "That's also another shitshow. His laptop's missing."
The waiter leaned back in his chair, watching as Meg reached for her makeup bag and began to try to fix her appearance.
This is crazy. Cork really was working with the Dead Eyes, and now they're worried because his laptop's gone and can be traced back to them. And what's all this about a new drug?
"How close are you to Castiel?" he asked suddenly, causing Meg to pause in her reapplication of eyeliner.
"We were best friends up until graduation," she said slowly, "Then I got into some bad shit when I came to Lawrence. Between that and the fact that he got a partial scholarship to another school out of state, we kinda fell apart. When I told Kyle about him...man, I must have been high or something. It was a while ago, and I really didn't know Cas was back until maybe a couple months ago? We haven't talked at all though."
Sam nodded, watching as the waitress's aura began to grow more and more violet, albeit at a slow pace.
Anything's progress really at this point. Should I tell Castiel about her?
There was a knock at the door, and they both turned to see Benny standing in the doorway, holding a dish rag as he studied them.
"I thought I smelled cigarette smoke. What're you smoking for Meg..." he began to ask, only to trail off as his eyes slid to her neck.
Sam watched as Benny's face went through a range of emotion, along with his usual settled aura. The typically deep blue went even darker and began to move in agitated waves around him for a brief moment before he seemed to regain control of himself.
"Who did that?" he asked genially, gesturing with his hand to Meg, who tugged at her neckline.
"Kyle," she mumbled, and Benny stared for a moment before he nodded and tucked the dishrag into his apron.
"Right. You're coming to stay with me," he announced, his voice pleasant, but leaving no room for discussion, "After my shift's over, we'll get your things. Sam, I trust you can stay quiet for now about this?"
"Yeah, of course," the waiter automatically responded, even as he watched Benny with a wary eye.
Sam had never seen the cook mad, or rather, really mad, but as he watched him lead Meg around with a gentle, but dominating hand toward her locker, he decided that Benny was probably terrifying when angry. It was obvious through the man's peaceful facade that he was mad, and Sam shivered as the cook's aura wrapped around him in tight swatches of blue.
Meg was definitely in good hands, of that Sam had no doubt.
The whole situation with Meg was probably the most dramatic thing that happened on Sam's shift. Throughout the night, he saw Benny talking with Ellen, and then Ellen speaking to Meg briefly in the hallway. He didn't think either Meg or Benny had told Ellen all the details, as he knew Ellen was a spitfire when she was mad. Meg herself was almost back to normal as she worked, her bruises covered up for the moment with makeup. She exchanged acidic comments with Anna, and if Sam hadn't seen her in the employee room, he'd have thought nothing was amiss.
The doorbell jingled sometime around midnight, the loudest sound in the now mostly quiet restaurant. Sam looked up to see shades of gold filtering through the gray blues of the Roadhouse and smiled as he looked farther to see Gabe hurrying towards the counter.
"It's cold as balls out there, Sammy!" he exclaimed as he slid into a seat, tugging off his gloves as he shivered.
"Good thing you managed to make your way here. Is it as bad as it looks?" the waiter asked, nodding to the flurries of snow whipping past outside, and Gabe nodded.
"The Beetle did not like the snow at all," he remarked, tugging down his hood to reveal messy golden hair, "Mind getting me a cup of joe, kiddo?"
"Already on it," Sam said, moving to the coffee station to whip the consultant up a hot beverage.
"You're a blessing, Sam," Gabe said fervently once the waiter returned with the promised drink, and Sam smiled in response before sliding the sugar away from the man's outstretched hand.
"It already has enough," he said quickly, ignoring the consultant's pout as he nudged the cup towards him, "Go on, try it."
Gabe gave him a doubtful look before taking an experimental sip of the coffee, humming immediately as his aura blossomed in happy shades of ivory.
"Good?" Sam asked, and Gabe practically beamed at him, gold eyes shining.
"Great!" he corrected, "You'll have to make my coffee from now on, no exceptions."
"I suppose it's better than you trying to give yourself diabetes with all the sugar packets you usually dump in your coffee," Sam remarked, ducking to avoid the glove thrown at him a moment later.
"Hmph," Gabe huffed, turning his nose up haughtily as Sam reemerged from behind the counter.
"You threw a glove at me!" Sam exclaimed as he threw it back at Gabe, hitting him square in the nose and nearly causing the man to spill his coffee.
"And you threw it back, so now we're even," Gabe said, smirking as he regained a better grip on his cup.
Sam stared for a moment before shaking his head and glancing at the clock.
"I'm going to clock off as soon as you finish. Ellen said I could go whenever since it's snowing-hey slowdown!"
Gabe mumbled something intelligible as he drained his cup, and the waiter stared in shock as the consultant slammed the now empty cup down, wiping his mouth with the other.
"Done. Let's go!" he said, tugging his wallet out as he shooed Sam away with the other, "Go get your stuff and we can be out in five."
Sam stared for a moment longer before shaking his head in disbelief and tugging off his apron. Gabe had technically finished his coffee, and Sam was in the mood to go home.
The wind blew fierce as the duo stepped out, and Sam immediately grabbed Gabe by the shoulder when the man began to tilt alarmingly.
"You all right?" Sam asked over the wind, and Gabe blinked before laughing, the sound carried away by the storm.
"I nearly got blown away!" he yelled, still laughing, and Sam shook his head before readjusting his grip on the smaller man and positioning himself as a windbreak. Gabe grabbed a handful of his jacket as they stepped out into the lot, and Sam led them towards the Beetle, avoiding the potholes and icy patches that he knew liked to form in times like this.
"In, get in! Holy crap!" Sam said, laughing as Gabe struggled with his door.
"I can't!" Gabe exclaimed, and Sam rolled his eyes before hurrying over to the driver's side and tugging the door open with a yank, fighting the wind as he hustled the consultant inside.
Gabe was giggling when Sam got in, and the Winchester shook his head at the man's antics, leaning over to start the car for him.
"You good?" he asked, and Gabe nodded as the engine started.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I haven't been blown away like that since I was a kid," he said, turning on the wipers.
"It happens in Lawrence," Sam commented, buckling his seatbelt as they pulled out of the lot, "Be careful. You're already a wackjob behind the wheel, and I don't want to die."
"Noted," Gabe said as they began the journey back to Sam's place. They were going a tad faster than Sam would've liked, but at least they weren't careening out of control yet, so the Winchester would just cross his fingers and hope for the best.
"So, how was your day, kiddo?" Gabe asked after a few minutes of relatively quiet, but safe driving.
Sam looked up from his phone, thinking idly that the question sounded strangely...domestic before answering.
"Pretty normal up until I got to work," he responded before sitting up a little straighter, "Then I ran into Meg in the employee break room..."
He told Gabe just about everything that Meg had told him save for the actual abuse part(he didn't want to out Meg like that, even if he knew Gabe would stay quiet if he asked him to). The man's aura reacted accordingly to each new piece of information Sam presented, though he stayed quiet. Sam could tell that he was focusing on driving for the most part, and he waited patiently for the man to make a left turn before Gabe spoke.
"So now we have confirmation that Cork was working with the Dead Eyes, not to mention that the killer probably is trying to spark some kind of gang war," Gabe said, gold eyes narrowed slightly in thought, "I'll have to see if there's any of this graffiti left so I can get it to Cas. Did Meg mention any specifics about this new drug?"
Sam shook his head, "No, she just said it was supposed to be some super potent stuff."
"Damn. Maybe the narcotics department will know more. I think tomorrow-"
Before Gabe could finish his thought, he suddenly yanked the steering wheel to the left. Sam caught a glimpse of something in the headlights before they were sliding around a corner, almost fishtailing across the slick road.
Sam threw one arm out in a subconscious protective gesture against Gabe's chest, using his other hand to nudge the steering wheel carefully the other way(yanking it would just make things worse). After a few heart-stopping seconds of skidding through the ice, they came to a stop against the curb, bumping it hard enough to dislodge ice from the roof of the car.
For a moment, they simply sat and watched the windshield wipers work before Sam heaved a giant sigh of relief. They had stopped in a parking spot of all things, and they hadn't even hit the car parked in front of them, so he took it as a win.
Christ that was close.
"Are you all right, Gabe?" he asked, looking over at the consultant, who was still holding onto the wheel and looking down at his arm with a shocked expression on his face.
"Uhh..."
"Oh, whoops," Sam said as pulled his arm away and scratched the back of his neck, "Reflex."
Gabe stared at him for a moment before he seemed to snap out of his momentary shock.
"Are you all right?" he asked, eyes wide.
"Yeah, I'm fine. What were you trying to avoid?" Sam asked, and Gabe shrugged, cheeks turning pink a bit as his aura reflected his embarrassment.
"A cat."
Sam stared for a moment before bursting out into laughter. It was probably on the hysterical side, especially when Gabe joined in, but the whole situation was absurd. They had almost crashed over a stray cat after all.
"You nearly crashed the car over a cat?" the Winchester asked in disbelief, and Gabe shrugged, wiping at his eyes.
"Sorry? But we lived, didn't we?" he said, gesturing to their relatively whole state, and Sam shook his head.
"You're fucking crazy," he stated with a grin, and Gabe grinned back, eyes alight as his golden aura flared around him.
"I guess I am," he said as he began to maneuver the car back out onto the road. The Beetle seemed to protest the movements, but soon they were back on course, albeit at a much slower pace than before, "Not a word of this to anyone, Sammy."
"My lips are sealed," Sam said as he mimed locking his lips and throwing away the key, earning a skeptical look from the consultant.
Luckily, they were only about five minutes away from Sam's apartment, and the rest of the drive passed uneventfully. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, the snow was falling so violently that visibility was nearly non-existent. Sam couldn't see how Gabe could get all the way to North Heights in these conditions, and judging by the consultant's expression, he didn't have much faith in his driving abilities either.
"Need a place to crash for the night?" Sam asked before he could chicken out or think things through properly.
Gabe tore his eyes away from the wintery weather outside to look over at him, his expression one of surprise.
"I-you don't have to do that kiddo, I think I can make it home," the consultant said hurriedly, and Sam shook his head with a scoff.
"You nearly crashed your car to avoid a cat, there's no way you'll make it to North Heights like this," he said bluntly, "It's better if you just stay for the night if only to preserve your life."
"Right," Gabe said distractedly before shaking his head slightly, "No, Sam, really-"
"Nope, come on," Sam interjected, reaching over to grab the keys from the ignition before Gabe could react, "It's just me since Kevin's still with his mom, so it'll be fine."
With that, Sam exited the car, not bothering to wait for Gabe. He knew that this was probably the only way to get Gabe to follow, and he smirked when he heard a car door slam through the blowing wind.
Sam 1, Gabe 0.
Gabe dragged his feet, pouted, and in general acted very disgruntled as they made their way up to Sam's apartment, but the man's aura gave him away. Sam watched with mild amusement as the man's colorful aura contradicted the sulky act he was putting on. It was obvious he was in some sort of way pleased at the turn of events, though the Winchester couldn't figure out why. Gabe's place was much nicer, and Sam could already feel a pang for sympathy as he thought of the P.I sleeping on the sad, saggy couch.
Sam's thoughts switched to other things however as soon as he stepped into his apartment.
"Jesus Christ, it's cold in here Sammy," Gabe remarked, and Sam blew out a frustrated breath as he stomped towards the thermostat.
"Fucking heater," he muttered as he pushed the button up as high as he dared. Nothing rumbled on like it should've, and Sam sighed, resting his head against the wall.
"Dammit. Good thing I have a backup," Sam remarked as he opened the coat closet and pulled out a space heater.
"Does this happen often?" the consultant asked, trailing after Sam as he moved into the living room.
"Sometimes, though it tends to get hotter than colder," the Winchester responded absently as he plugged in the heater, "There. Let's see, the shower's down the hall next to my room, and there's a smaller bathroom next to the coat closet. Kevin's room is the one with the shut door. Beyond that, I think that's about it."
Gabe shivered as he plopped down onto the couch, tugging a nearby blanket over him as the space heater glowed orange.
"You want something to eat or drink?" Sam asked, and Gabe shook his head as he toed off his shoes and pulled up his legs.
"Nah, I kind of feel like just sleeping," the consultant admitted as he yawned loudly and shivered, "I had a long day."
"All right, I'm going to take a shower. Help yourself to anything you need."
When the college student came back from the bathroom, he could hear running water from the second bathroom. He grabbed some more blankets from the closet and set them out for Gabe, along with one of his pillows. The space heater was moved a bit closer to the couch, and despite Gabe's denial for food, Sam could tell by his aura that a snack wouldn't be remiss.
"How can you walk around like that?"
Sam looked back at the consultant, who had walked into the kitchen with two blankets draped around his shoulders. He looked down at his long sleeve shirt and jeans and shrugged.
"I've never had a problem with the cold. Besides, I'm pretty used to it," he replied nonchalantly as he held out a bag of chips, "Still sleepy?"
Gabe's face lit up, and the duo went to situate themselves on the couch. Sam noticed that the consultant didn't seem to mind close proximity, so they sat side by side in the middle, which was coincidentally where the couch was most saggy. Gabe nearly toppled over when Sam sat down, and the college student had to shove the man over so he wouldn't get sucked into the upholstered trap.
"You really need a new couch Sam-a-lam," Gabe commented as he tore open the bag of chips, and Sam snorted as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around himself.
"Can't afford it. Besides, it was a pain in the ass to get this one through the door. There's no way I'm getting this one out again and getting another one up."
Gabe hummed, tucking his knees under his chin as he gestured to Sam's bag, which was sitting on the coffee table.
"Still have school work?"
"Not really. It can wait," Sam answered, more focused on Gabe's aura. Sitting on the couch like this with him meant he was far warmer than he normally should be. Not even the space heater could compare to what the man's aura could produce.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Gabe asked, crunching on chips at a pace that convinced Sam the man had been hungrier than he'd let on.
"Laundry and crap like that. It's my day off from both school and work," Sam said, running a hand through his hair.
Gabe's face lit up as he turned slightly to face him, his aura curling around him in lightening shades of yellow.
"Really? How do you feel about meeting for lunch or something, if you're not too busy?" the man asked excitedly before clearing his throat, "To discuss the case, of course."
Sam tilted his head, observing as the man's aura flashed with an interesting shade of orange that came and went too fast for him to interpret.
"Sure, we can have pizza again. I'll warn you now though, there's a small chance I might end up getting dumped with Ben again, so don't freak out if I show up with a kid."
The consultant chuckled, "Duly noted. What does Ben look like?"
"His mother," Sam said dryly before pulling out his phone and showing the man a picture, "Say hello to the greatest nephew on Earth."
Gabe coo'ed and aww'ed over the pictures Sam showed him because he definitely had more than a few on his phone. He'd have been lying if he said he hadn't spent a good ten minutes extolling the virtues of his nephew, but judging by Gabe's aura, he didn't seem to mind at all.
"So that's Dean?" Gabe asked, pointing at the green-eyed man tossing Ben over his shoulder, and Sam nodded.
"Yep," he smirked as he saw Gabe's expression, "Oh, you can say it. He looks like a Ken doll, doesn't he?"
"Does he model or something?" the consultant asked in disbelief, "Do Winchesters just have naturally good genes, cause this is ridiculous!"
Sam snickered at the man's flabbergasted expression, "Dean's definitely the 'hot brother' of the family. But don't worry, there aren't any more siblings to give you a heart attack."
"Okay, one, you're both hot," Gabe started in a completely serious voice, "and two, thank God because I'm not sure I can handle anymore Winchesters."
Gabe thinks I'm hot?
Sam stared at the consultant(he thinks I'm hot?), but Gabe didn't seem to find anything wrong with what he'd said, with his interest moving on to the various textbooks and other literature scattered around the living room.
"Ever thought of a bookshelf, kiddo?" the man asked with an arched eyebrow, and Sam rolled his eyes.
"They're fine on the floor," he responded, pushing away the idea that Gabe might actually find him hot, and why it seemed to bother him so much for a later date, "If you think this is bad, you should see my room."
Gabe's eyes lit up as he grinned, obviously keen to the idea.
"Why not? C'mon, you've seen mine, so I get to see yours!" he said, leaping off the couch, and Sam arched an eyebrow even as he smiled indulgently at the man's behavior.
"What are we, twelve?"
"Perhaps," the man responded with a wink, and Sam sighed before leading the man down the hall. Here, since there was no space heater, it was much colder, and he could hear Gabe shiver as he pushed open his door.
"Welcome to my hovel," Sam said with a sweeping gesture of his arm to his now more or less tidy room as he turned on the light, "Take your time, no need to rush."
"I like it," Gabe proclaimed as he stepped in, blankets dragging behind him as he looked this way and that, "It feels like you."
"Feels like me?" the college student echoed, amused. It almost sounded as if Gabe was the one who could feel auras in this scenario.
Gabe shrugged, a contemplative look on his face as he took in the sad bed in the corner where Sam's feet hung over the edge, the desk piled high with books and papers, and the sole plant that Ben liked to drown in water whenever he got the chance.
"It looks like a room you'd live in," he said, smiling at the Batman figure that Sam had taken out of the drawers. The Winchester blushed as he realized what the man was looking at and cleared his throat awkwardly.
"It's nothing special," he commented before a sudden idea popped into his head, "If you want, you can sleep here. I can pull in the space heater and it'll be warm in no time."
Gabe turned to look at him, gold eyes wide.
"Oh, no, Sam, I couldn't," he said, "I'll just sleep on the couch, it's fine."
Sam shook his head, his mind already made up.
"No, it'll be fine. I actually fit better on the couch than in my own bed honestly," he said with a reassuring smile, "So just get in bed already. It's almost two."
The consultant looked over at the clock on the nightstand, aura swirling in thought before he finally relented with a sigh.
"All right, if you say so," he said, sounding doubtful, and Sam gently nudged the man towards the bed. Sometimes Gabe could be stubborn and argumentative, and he was glad that for once, the P.I had put up minimal resistance.
"I do. I'll be right back."
In the living room, the first thing Sam noticed was the way Gabe's aura seemed to have lingered. It reminded him of the same effect he'd seen back in the man's apartment, but on a much smaller, fainter scale. Traces of gold curled around the couch and the breakfast bar, and a pastel trail led down the hall. It made the usually very neutral(unless they had raucous visitors like Dean)living room a bit brighter, and Sam took in the sight for a moment before remembering what he had come for.
"Shit," he swore, quickly unplugging the space heater. He really needed to get a hold of himself. It was just an aura; bright and bold and very warm, but an aura nonetheless.
Gabe was sitting cross-legged on the bed when he returned, his jeans tossed onto the back of Sam's desk chair. The Winchester snorted at the sight before dumping some blankets on the obviously cold man and plugging in the space heater.
"My hero," the consultant quipped as the space heater glowed orange, and Sam bowed before straightening and tugging on his fringe.
"That should do the trick. If you freeze to death after all my efforts, then I don't know what to tell you." he joked.
"Uh, rude," Gabe said with a fake frown, and Sam rolled his eyes before toeing the carpet, suddenly feeling awkward.
Well, you've offered your bed up to a guy you met last week, whose aura will probably stick around for a week; an idea that you're not completely against. So yeah, this is definitely a moment to feel awkward.
"I, uh..." he started before shaking his head minutely, "If you need anything, just wake me up, I'm a light sleeper."
"I'll be fine, kiddo," Gabe said softly with a smile before he suddenly frowned, "Will you be okay though? What if you sleepwalk?"
Sam cursed himself mentally. He'd almost forgotten about that. He had the sleeping pills, and while he was sort of sure they worked(did last night count?), he didn't want to just pull them out in front of Gabe.
"Well, if I do sleepwalk, I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to wake me," he said with a faint frown(he'd have to research the intricacies of sleepwalking in the morning), "Beyond that, I'm sure I'll be fine."
Gabe hummed in acknowledgment, his aura still looking a bit unconvinced before the duo gazed at each other for a moment. Sam was leaning against his door, somehow strangely comfortable in his position, while Gabe had made a makeshift cocoon out of the various blankets he'd given him.
The consultant broke the silence first by clearing his throat slightly and shifting. Sam blinked before realizing what he was doing and smiling bashfully as he glanced away.
"Good night, Sam," Gabe said softly, and Sam nodded before reaching to turn off the light.
"Good night, Gabe."
He shut the door quickly before he could say or do anything idiotic, sighing once he was on the other side.
It was ridiculous, but somehow, Gabe managed to bring the idiot out of him whenever he was around. Granted, the man seemed to draw various reactions out of people whenever he was around, but Sam felt like he was somehow the only one that got nervous and fumbled around the man like-like some kind of-
I need sleep. Sam thought to himself as he walked down the hall. Sure, he had gotten way more than usual last night, but if his thoughts were becoming so ludicrous, he obviously needed more.
The Winchester shrugged off his jeans and collapsed on the couch with a yawn, ignoring the way it sagged beneath him in favor of tugging up a few spare blankets. Faint traces of gold settled down around him, lulling him into a placid state. Thoughts of the case and Gabe drifted away as he shut his eyes. Tomorrow was his day off, and he'd get to have lunch with Gabe, so what was there to stress about?
Hmm, how about everything for a start?
Sam pushed that traitorous thought away and firmly shut his eyes. At this point, he'd almost take sleepwalking over listening to his thoughts. Almost. He could still remember waking up at the bottom of the tub, completely unaware of his situation.
Gabe's aura was doing the trick though, and he could feel himself slipping further and further away from awareness. It was sort of like how Dean's aura felt whenever he'd woken from a nightmare and couldn't sleep, but fundamentally different. Dean's had been brotherly and familiar on every level; Gabe's was less so familiar but just as potent, and it felt more like...
Before Sam could finish that particular thought, he fell asleep.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Sooooo, it's been two weeks...whoops?
In my defense, writer's block hit me out of nowhere and this chapter didn't want to come out at all. The first week I just had major doubts about my whole story and writing style, and then this past week I had senior photos, and let's just say I didn't look forward to those. If anyone's ever had a photo session when you hate taking pictures, you know what I'm talking about. I couldn't even focus on writing, but then last night the dam finally broke and I got the last 2k or so done.
To make up for my absence, not only is this chapter a nice 10k, there's also lots of Sabriel moments. Besides that though, this isn't really my favorite chapter, but meh, I wanted to get back to updating. I think it's all the dialogue I had to write; dialogue is so not my forte lmaooo. I'm just glad I managed to power through and get it done.
About Meg and Cas, I always found their relationship interesting on the show, so I made them friends here. Rest assured it's strictly platonic though! I've been waiting since the beginning to properly introduce this, so let me know what you think!
Update next Saturday, probably, if life doesn't throw anything else at me. Until then readers!