Calling in a Marker

by Criminally Charmed

Chapter Twenty One

Disclaimer - As we celebrate another year of British rule...What? When did that happen? Really? Well, some people sure act like they are royalty...Just without the class or style.

Sorry. But have you ever noticed that politicians ruin a perfectly good fireworks show with all their blah-blah-blah?

Oh, and I don't own Supernatural or the Thunderbirds.

Sam had, thankfully, slept fully and deeply once they had returned to the hotel room. Dean and Bobby had sat up for a couple of hours, the bedroom and patio doors both open so they could hear Sam if he needed them. But with the toll on his body – added to the mild sedative Dean had slipped him – the younger man was deep in Morpheus' arms, allowing Dean and Bobby to sit on the balcony, watching the stars.

"This is kinda nice," Dean sighed as he stretched out on the same lounger that Sam had been on earlier in the day. "I can see why Sam fell asleep out here."

"Yep," Bobby said, "it's nice out here." He looked over at Dean, raising a bushy eyebrow as he asked, "So what happened to freak out the Sheriff?"

"You remember me telling you about the deputy that arrested us?" When Bobby nodded, Dean continued. "Well, it's beginning to look like the dumbass got himself possessed."

Stretching, Bobby took off his ball cap, scratching his head before replacing it, and musing, "Idjit. Well, guess Jean will have a reason to fire him. He's bound to do something while possessed that will give her an excuse." Bobby and Dean both stood up, tossing their almost empty bottles into a trash can before heading inside.

"That's what we love about you, Bobby. You always see the upside of things."

Dutton parked his vehicle in its designated spot to the side of the municipal building. But as he attempted to enter, the possessed man felt himself pushed back as if a wall had suddenly materialized in front of him. Looking at the ground, Demon Dutton could see the salt surrounding the structure. The Winchesters, he thought, hissing their name as if it were a curse. Jean Landman wouldn't know to do such a thing.

And the building itself felt odd, as if the very structure was repelling him. Doubtless some kind of wards. Anger coursed through his body, covering him in a wave. His eyes had once more turned black, the fires of Hell giving the orbs an unnatural light. Walking back to his vehicle, Dutton stopped before entering it. Pulling a key from the key ring, the demon dropped it beside the Bailey Sheriff's car, and turned to walk over to his personal vehicle in the back lot. Sliding into the second-hand Ford (it had once been a Sheriff's vehicle and you could still see the markings through the cheap paint job), Dutton drove off into the night. There would be no going back. The Winchesters were the reason why he was being forced into this.

He would take great pleasure in making them pay. Sam Winchester, once the promised leader of the darkness, was still the treasured, much loved little brother of Dean Winchester. Everyone in the Pit knew that Dean so loved his sibling that he had sold his soul to a crossroads demon and suffered the tortures of the damned for forty years in order to save Sam's life. Well, thirty, if you were being technical. But to a righteous soul like Dean Winchester, what happened to him for the last ten would be worse than the first thirty. It would be those ten that were still tormenting him now.

But to see the light once more leave his baby brother's eyes would make the entire forty years look like a day in the park. Only once Dean had suffered that torturous pain would Keifer Dutton end his misery and slice his throat, ending the line of Campbell-Winchester Hunters for all eternity.

The Thunderbirds had long since returned to their island home and, after the obligatory debriefing, showers and John assuring his wife that he would never let his brothers see the performance that Kate had thankfully only sent to him, silence once more reigned over Tracy Island.

But Scott Tracy had never been big on sleep. His wife – recovered from her unexpected swim and in need of a new I-Phone – was curled up in their bed and Scott was reluctant to disturb her. He was unused to not hearing the sounds of their sleeping sons in the villa they had shared since their marriage. Kate sleeping deeper than usual and the boys not in the house made it quieter than usual, except for Kate's snores due to the water that she had inhaled. It also made it impossible for Scott to sleep.

Sighing, Scott leaned back in one of the loungers that surrounded the upper pool. He had pushed it all the way back against the fence that lined the small front yards – which were very small - between the villas of the four sons (Gordon's was a work in progress) and the pool so as to keep the children from taking any accidental swims. Well, he thought wryly, any more, as Scott recalled the time his younger son, DJ, would have drowned if Julie hadn't been visiting. The swimmer turned Tracy employee – and now sister-in-law – had won Kate's undying support for that incident.

"Em is worried that she made Kate sick from her nighttime swim." John's voice interrupted Scott rambling thoughts. Turning his head, Scott smiled and indicated the lounger next to his. John sat down and looked up at the stars, a soft smile gracing the second son's face as it always did when he stared into the cosmos.

"Nah. Kate's made of sturdy stock." Scott dismissed his brother's concern with a casual wave. "She really wouldn't have sent the clip out. Not unless Em did something to really piss her off."

"I thought she would just shoot then," John muttered.

Chuckling, Scott shook his head. "Seriously, Kate hasn't shot that many people. She's far more likely to take them down with some karate. Or rip them a new one. I think Kate's caustic sense of humor should be labeled as a lethal weapon."

"You mean it isn't?" John joked, ducking when Scott half-heartedly took a swing at him. Quickly sobering, John asked, "Have you seen the reports from the Tracy Charitable Trusts on the dead hiker that was found along the Mystery Hills Preserve Trail?" Scott nodded and his brother continued. "I set up a program to scan for any further details on the incident."

"Do they know what happened?"

"Nope," John said grimly. "But they know that it's happened again."

Scott shook his head. "Damn. I knew that building a hiking trail through there was a bad idea."

John looked surprised. "But the reserve was being built and having the hiking trail there assures income for Bailey."

Nodding, Scott explained his opinion. "I was against the reserve being put there as well. I would have liked to seen the whole thing ripped to the ground. There was something wrong and creepy about that place."

Looking thoughtful, John remembered something. "Isn't that where you and your Cub Scout Troop got lost?"

"Boy Scout," Scott corrected. "I was ten. Past Cub Scouts, if you don't mind. And we didn't get lost. Well, not really. We knew where we were at the time."

"Lost somewhere in a series of caves," John snarked.

Chuckling, Scott nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. But I never want Alan to know that."

"Alan to know what?"

The brother in question emerged from the shadows on the other side of the pool, walking over to his older siblings. Sipping on a glass of water, Alan yawned as he sat down on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet into the water. "Scott, you know I am gonna have to check with Sam and Dean to see about supernatural beings that never need to sleep. It just isn't normal."

"Speaking of allegations of normalcy," John asked, "why aren't you in bed with your wife?"

"Why aren't you guys in bed with yours?" Alan responded.

"Kate got too much water up her nose," Scott sighed. "It's making her snore. It will go down soon."

John sighed as well. "Em is mad at me for watching the clip Kate sent. I thought it was cute. And she sings well. It's not like she was a reject from American Idol, but does that help my wife? Nope. And since she feels so bad about knocking Kate into the pool, Emily is focusing her wrath on me." Looking over at Alan, he asked, "So, I repeat…Why you aren't in bed with your own wife was the original question. We spilled and now that you are in the Fraternal Order of Married Tracy Men, you must answer."

Alan shrugged. "I…I had a bad dream." Stretching, Alan sighed. "That makes me sound like I am your kids' age, doesn't it?" Standing up, he shook the water off of his feet. "We were in these caves. And there was a weird cat, with these crazy eyes. I was sure it was going to kill us. And there was some weird guy with black eyes. Not the bruised kind but actual totally black eyes. He really wanted us dead. Or maybe just me, not sure of that point. Oh, and we were trapped. Not all of us, but I remember being really scared. I can't recall everything in the dream but I do remember that." Alan started to turn, before stopping and saying, "Oh, and I remember seeing a little blue jet. It had the letters S, C and T on it. I picked it up and thought how it reminded me of Thunderbird One. Is that weird or what?"

As the youngest brother wandered back into the house, John smiled until he looked over at Scott. The oldest Tracy son was pale underneath his tanned skin. "Scotty? You OK?"

"I lost it in the Mystery Hills Caves," Scott said hollowly. "I never told Alan about that." Looking over at John, Scott said quietly, "I had a toy, a blue jet that had been a model that Dad made at work. He later used that design as the basis of One. Because Gordon kept snitching it, Mom painted my initials on it. I lost it when my Troop was up in the Caves."

"That was before Al was even born," John said thoughtfully. "Did you tell him about it when he was a kid? Maybe to discourage him from going in there?"

"Never had to," Scott responded. "Kid was scared of the dark; there was no way he would go into the caves."

"Wokay," John sighed. "And on that very strange note, Emily should be in a deep enough REM state that I can slip into bed without her smacking me with a pillow."

"And Kate should have her sinuses clear now," Scott joked, as they both stood up.

The brothers walked towards their own villas as they made sure the gate was secured behind them. They knew they needed their sleep, and they knew it had just been a weird dream that their youngest brother had experienced, right?

Dawn was barely breaking as Jean Landman returned to her office. It didn't surprise her at all to find no one there yet. Looking around the parking area, she found the key to the patrol vehicle on the ground. Pocketing it, Jean sighed and went back into the building. She couldn't leave the Sheriff's office unattended, and she would have to wait until another deputy arrived. Dean was probably right, Dutton was possessed. She wasn't happy at losing a deputy and was very unhappy that her uncle-by-marriage would be upset at the likely death of his estranged son. But on the bright side, even if Keifer Dutton survived being possessed, he was likely to do something that would allow her to fire him. Even if it was just going AWOL tonight. She just hoped no one else got hurt. Leave it to Dutton to screw up this badly.

Dumbass.

Over at the Fairview Inn, the Winchesters stirred in their sleep before once more surrendering to their exhaustion. In the main room, Bobby sat up in bed, a bad feeling washing over him. Slipping out of from under the light blanket, he walked over to the balcony and looked out over the view as the sun rose softly in the sky.

Thinking that the brothers would be rising soon, Bobby decided to make a small pot of coffee to start them off before heading over to Miss Millie's for breakfast. With thoughts of the French Toast he had been promised for today, Bobby almost drooled. But before he could turn back towards the suite and the kitchenette where the coffee pot was, the older hunter's attention was drawn to the expanse below.

At the edge of the woods, a man stood, looking up at the room where the hunters were located. It looked like, from a distance, that the man was wearing some kind of uniform. It almost looked like…Sheriff Landman's outfit? Bobby couldn't be sure as the man seemed to notice that Bobby had spotted him and disappeared into the foliage.

Damn, Bobby muttered. If that was the deputy Dean was sure had been possessed, his watching the room meant that one or both of the Winchesters were being targeted. They were safe in the room but they would have to be on their guard whenever they left it.

Like that was anything new.

A/N - It was kinda short. Sorry. But setting things up. There is enough going on that I don't want to miss anything. Kind of like life at the moment. Also sorry this was posted late. As some of you are aware, I am using two betas. sammygirl1963 is an awesome cheerleader who fires my creativity. Little Miss Bump is my grammar-natrix who makes everything flow so much better. I am too selfish to give up either. And while my cheerleader has been egging me on, the one with the whip was out of town. But she is BACK and got this chapter to me soooo fast. SHE ROCKS! (Well, they both do.)

So, welcome back LMB. Plus, prayers to you Jean. Hope that a chapter will distract you from the burdens...Take care both of you and God Bless.

Oh, and you guys...REVIEW! Encourage the artist within...CC