1Beginning Note: Hey everybody! Kerri here with a chapter for dinner and a warning for dessert. Let's start with dessert first though, okay? Colby's Girl's review reminded me that I never explained how Sam had disappeared from his crib, or who Liz really was. So in this chapter you will get your answer. Depending on how much you all remember from the first couple chapters, you may want to go back and read chapter two before reading this one.
Now back to regular rambling notes: Everybody, your reviews were so much appreciated for last chapter and chapter 18. Because of my severe lack of internet and time to be on it, I never got a chance to reply to those wonderful chapter 18 reviews. I know it's a little late but I want to do it now:
Goddess972: Thank you so much for your positive review! I'm always glad to see more and more people are enjoying this story. Your compliments made me smile every time I read them. They really encouraged me and were the perfect cure to a deflated ego. Hope to 'see' you around here more often. Don't be a stranger. - Kerri
Adara-chan: I must say you are very right. Victor will always be a villain in my head. A necessary evil at times, but I enjoy writing for him. How weird is that? Anyway, I have to admit that my inspiration for the idea of Sam's powers came from me trying to figure out how Jake didn't somehow smash our boy's face in when they were fighting. So, being a bit of a super hero type nerd, I was struck by inspiration while watching 'Heroes' and 'X-Men'. I hope your curiosity has been sated. Lol - Kerri
psiChic: Ahh, Scruffy!Sams. . . joins the ogling Haha, I adored your real time review and thought your comment on Dean being Sammy's mommy was perfect! I'm so glad you are intrigued by the Doppel's back story, but now I'm nervous that I'm going to let you down, and it'll be lame. . . (oh the drama) Anywho, one of these days you will discover the origin of tattoo, and why it sometimes flames up like it does. Hopefully I'll be able to explain it before you don't care anymore. . . - Kerri
Thank you everybody for your support. Your reviews continue to validate and inspire my writing. Without you guys, I would just be some lame girl who writes weird stories for herself and her thousands of tabby cats. . .
Luv You All - Kerri
Chapter Twenty: Skeptics and Believers
Friday at 11:00am
It was one hour after Samuel agreed to the deal and Hendrickson was busy running around the department to tie up the last loose ends of the case. According to Sam, Dean would be in their custody in less than an hour and Victor didn't want to leave anything to chance. He was so excited and busy in fact that Jim had no problem finishing a little investigation of his own.
After the fruitless argument with the black agent earlier, Jim decided he better do his research if he wanted to make any headway with his co-workers. For the last hour he remained locked in his office, sifting through papers, reports, and even pages online. The only other person who knew about his enquiry's was Debby, the receptionist, and it was only because she helped pull up the hard to get files for him.
"I'll be damned." The seasoned agent whistled under his breath. He hadn't realized how many cases against the Winchester's had holes in them till now. St. Louis, Colorado, Michigan, Palo Alto. . . it seemed that wherever they went there were equal amounts of people claiming the brother's innocence than their guilt. The problem with these reports though was that the witnesses never could explain why the boys weren't guilty. They fumbled, stumbled and mumbled through their accounts, but they all seemed strong in their resolve that the Winchester's were the best thing to ever happen to them. That they owed them their lives.
He would have looked at the reports longer, but with Samuel on the FBI's side, he knew he didn't have much time left. Quickly, he gathered up as many papers and photos as he could and left his office, passing the lobby and waving to Debby on his way to the rooms built for questioning. He was pretty sure in all the chaos of the deal and Dean, that Hendrickson had completely forgotten about the other Sam sitting alone in one of those rooms. He was right.
-SUPERNATURAL-
11:00am
Was it strange that both the room and the cuffs seemed to be shrinking with each passing minute? Sam lay his head defeated on the table before quickly jerking back to a sitting position when the motion of leaning forward rubbed away yet another portion of skin from his reddening wrists.
This little charade had gone on for the last hour and Sam was pretty sure that the metal handcuffs had to have drawn blood by now.
The first few minutes after Hendrickson's departure left Sam worried. The next few minutes made him nervous. The rest of the time the young brunet was just plain bored. Surely there would be people here by now. Which left him with yet another worrying thought.
What could have happened to make the entire FBI force forget about him?
No sooner had that thought left his subconscious and become a serious question, then the unmistakable sound of clicking shoes walking down the hallway started echoing around the enclosed space. Shoes that were heading his direction. Only a few seconds later and the door to his room opened with a nail biting shriek.
Light poured into the uncommonly darkened room and Sam flinched when it hit his eyes head on.
"Sorry." A voice said apologetically and quickly shut the door behind him returning the room back to being dark and dreary. "I would have got the lights turned up higher but I figure your eyes have probably already adjusted."
"Yea me." Sam said dryly. Really dryly; his throat was parched.
"Hey, want some water?" The man asked suddenly. "You don't sound all that great."
"Best freakin' day of my life." Sam grumbled, but was surprised when the man pushed forward a half full glass of water towards. 'Look at me, being all optimistic.' He jiggled his hands gingerly and flinched when the cuffs rattled and cut into his wrist. "Yeah, man, that didn't really help." He nodded his head towards the glass and then down to the handcuffs.
The man followed his nods and his mouth formed an 'o' when it dawned on him. Quickly, he walked around the table, picked up the water-filled cup and raised it to Sam's lips.
Sam was about to take a sip when he stopped and looked at the water suspiciously.
"The water's clean." The man said. "Nothing in there that shouldn't be."
"And that's reassuring." Sam snarked.
"I'm not trying to trick you." The man said softly. "I'm trying to help you."
"Well now I'm convinced." Sam sarcastically retorted. "You can take your water back."
The man stood there for a moment longer before nodding his head and placing the glass back on the table and resuming his place on the opposite side of the Winchester. Sam regretted that decision almost immediately. His mouth was completely dry and his tongue felt like a giant cotton ball.
"So you're Sam?"
"What gave it away?"
"I was part of the team who brought you and the other. . . uh, Sam from the hospital."
"And you are?"
"Name's Jim."
"Well Jim." Sam said slowly. "You said you wanted to help me."
"I do." Jim said seriously.
"I have three questions then: Why? How? And: What's the catch?"
Jim scratched his chin thoughtfully and gave a small smile. "Because I think you're innocent, I'm working on it, and the only catch is that you need to convince me as to why I think I should help you get out of here. Sound good to you?"
Sam blew a few stray strands of hair out of his face and stared intently at the agent before him. Should he trust him? Could he afford not to? As it was, things already seemed to be turning backwards on him. The last time he saw Samuel was when he was dragged out of the room and the doppelgänger didn't seem the least bit worried. In fact, he seemed almost. . . gleeful? Excited? As if everything he ever thought was going to happen did.
Something wasn't right about his other self. Something darker, more subtle, like a chess player distracting his opponents so they wouldn't see what he was really doing.
"Sam?"
Sam jerked his head up and realized he had zoned out into his thoughts. "Right. So my options are to either trust you or stay here and wait for Hendrickson to come back?"
"Pretty much." Jim conceded amicably.
"Then I don't really have a choice do I?" Sam said tightly.
"I didn't really think about it, but I guess not."
Sam sighed and shook his head in what could have been interpreted as defeat. "Alright then. What do you want to know?"
Jim sat quietly, trying to take in what the young man was saying to him. It seemed so ridicules and yet everything was just starting to make sense.
Sam continued to stare at him from across the table, waiting for the reaction people like him always gave.
"So," Jim started slowly. "You're telling me that you hunt. . . things."
Sam nodded.
"And not deer and pheasants sort of things either, but ghosts, ghouls, spirits, and evil creatures."
"Yeah, pretty much. The MO changes a lot but that pretty much covers the gist of it."
"And that's why every witness's account was incomplete. That's why they couldn't explain why you were innocent."
Sam licked his probably parched lips and nodded again. "I didn't know you talked to people we helped, but I guess."
"Helped? You mean with supernatural type problems?" Jim sounded distressed. He knew this was a strange case, but he still hadn't expected what Sam was telling him.
"I know it sounds crazy." Sam agreed. "But it's true. And I'll bet if you look back at past cases of yours- unsolved ones- that these things are what caused the problems. Werewolves, poltergeists, demons- they all exist and Dean and I, well we stop them."
"You hunt them."
"Yeah."
Jim scrubbed aimlessly at his beard and sighed. He believed him. All the things Sam said to him. . . it explained so much; so many inconsistencies in his life and job. So now how could he try to convince his friends the same thing without coming across like a paranoid loon. "I believe you kid."
Sam blinked blankly at him. "You do?"
"I do." Jim reiterated. "And I'm going to help you."
Sam's eyes visibly brightened and he straightened in his chair, wincing as the cuffs once again dug into his now sensitive flesh. "You're going to help me get out of here?"
"That's what I said. But here's one final question for you: If you're Sam, then who in all the Hell's is outside, helping Hendrickson prepare for the capture of your brother?"
"What?" Sam paled.
"The other Sam guy. The smart ass with the tat. He made a deal with Victor. Dean's capture for his freedom."
For a moment there was only silence. Then: "That sonofabitch." Sam swore under his breath. "That Son. Of. A. Bitch!" He yelled a little louder, kicking the bottom of the metal table with toes of his boot.
"I take it he's not a friend of yours."
"I guess not." Sam growled. "You've got to get me out of here. I've got to find Dean; have to warn him before that freak gets to him."
"Who is he exactly?" Jim asked again.
"Would you believe me if I told you he was my doppelgänger?"
Jim stared at him before quirking his eyes with confusion. "Doppelgänger?"
"Let's just say he's my evil twin. It's more believable that way."
"You are one strange kid, you know that?" Jim said in awe.
"Yeah," Sam agreed with a sigh. "I know."
Jim had just stood up, key in hand, ready to unlock the bothersome handcuffs when the there was a screech and the door swung open, revealing a single man staring at the two of them in shock. "Jim? What the hell are you doing?"
"Daniel." Jim's eyes widened. He was busted and he knew it. This was Hendrickson's partner, and even though he knew in his heart he was right, there was no way he could prove it to anybody else. . . "I uh, I was just getting ready to move him back to his holding room. No point keeping him locked up in here when Dean's going to show up any minute now."
He stressed the 'any minute now' hoping that Sam would catch the urgency he was feeling. They couldn't afford to lose time now.
Daniel frowned and looked around as if he thought he would see somebody else. "You okay Jim? Victor asked me to take Sam back to his room, and you're not looking real good. You feeling sick?"
"No." Jim lied. "I just want to hurry this up. You know if we're not there when Dean's taken captive, Vic's going to take all the credit."
"Probably." Daniel admitted. He stared at Sam carefully. "Have you two been talking?"
Sam looked over to Jim and Jim tapped his finger on the table. "I was just filling our little friend here on what was going on. I thought maybe he would want to change his mind and be a part of the deal Hendrickson laid out. Turns out he's stubborn as a frickin' mule. Family loyalty is bitch huh?"
"Jim." Daniel said quietly. "I saw you on the video camera. I heard every word you said and," He paused. "I heard every word he said."
Sam swallowed the growing lump in his throat and nearly yelped when the silver key was subtly thrown in his lap. Carefully he manipulated his hands to pick it up and started to work furiously on getting the cuffs open and off his wrists.
"Daniel, I can explain-"
"Explain? You're talking treason man! This kid is a criminal and you're going to believe that he hunts vampires and shit? Have you lost your freaking mind?" Daniel still stood in the door, blocking the only path to escape.
"But he's right Dan. You've seen as many strange things as I have, why is it so hard to believe that things like that exist? Why not vampires? Why not werewolves?"
"You really have gone crazy." Daniel breathed. "Jim I thought maybe you were just misguided about what he said but you really believe him, don't you?"
Jim hung his head before nodding. "Yeah, I really do."
"Then we've got a problem. You know I have to report you."
Jim nodded. "I know. And you should know then that I have to do this-"
Quickly he jumped across the room and smashed the small glass of water into the side of his friend's head, letting the shattered glass fall to the floor but catching Daniel before he did. Carefully he carried the unconscious agent and sat him in the chair he previously sat in.
Sam heard the satisfying click of the lock giving way and he pulled his hands free, rubbing his wrists tenderly.
"We've got to get out of here." Jim started to run out of the room, Sam right on his heels.
"You said Dean was going to be here any minute. Is that true?"
"He could be here right now for all I know. And the entire station is looking for him." Jim said grimly.
Sam furrowed his brows and gave a determined growl. "Then I guess we have to find him first."
-SUPERNATURAL-
11:45am
Dean woke up to a hand shaking his shoulder.
"Hey, man, get up."
"Sam, go away. . ." He muttered quietly.
"Dude, wake the hell up!" The voice yelled this time. "This ain't no freaking breakfast call."
Dean's eyes flew open and slowly focused on the single figure standing over him. John. Wait, he fell asleep? How did he manage that? "I fell asleep?"
"And how." John muttered, pushing his door open and stepping out of the truck with a grunt. "You think they would have a cure for sleep talkers by now."
"They do." Dean dead panned. "They're called earplugs. And I don't talk in my sleep."
"Puleeze. I don't know who you've been bunking with, but chances are he doesn't get a wink of sleep between your inner reminiscing and tendency to drool."
Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. "You're just pissed that I got to rest while you were stuck driving."
"Well this is your rescue mission." John didn't argue the accusation. "Anyway, I thought you should know we made it."
"What?" Dean instantly shot up from his actually uncomfortable position in the truck and jumped out to join his irritated doppelgänger. "We made it? Sam's here?"
"He better be because I'm not driving all over the freaking state to find him."
"Where are we anyway?"
"Washington D.C. Where else?"
Dean's jaw dropped. "How fast were you driving?"
"I have my ways." John said with a smirk, dismissing the question. "Now, you better take a good look at the scenery 'cause depending on how this sting goes you might not see daylight ever again."
"What makes you say that?"
"The FBI just took your brother. I don't think an attempt at rescue is exactly a get out jail free card."
"Good point." Dean agreed, running through a quick mental list in his head of all their weapons. "So what's the game plan?"
"Why would I have a game plan?" John placed a small silver dagger in his own ankle holster.
Dean stopped at that. There was no plan. This was definitely new for him, and he didn't like it. Sam was always the one who insisted they have a plan, and it was Dean's job to say screw the plan and wing it instead. But they always - mark that - always had a plan. Sam's plan. . .
"I guess I should have a plan then." Dean said weakly.
"Damn straight. This is a rescue mission, not suicide." John pointed out but when Dean turned away in thought, his expression softened and became one of worry. Ignoring all the voices ringing out in his head, the eye patched double stepped forward and placed a single hand on Dean's shoulder. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. We're going to get your brother back. You can still save Sam."
"Yeah, I know." Dean said softly, facing John once again. "But what if I can't?"
John stopped and set his eye downcast. "If you can't save Sammy,"
Dean noticed immediately that he called his brother 'Sammy' instead of Sam or Samuel.
"If you can't save him," John started again, voice quivering. "Then you'll have no reason to live. You're brother leaving you only a memory of his former self. You'll walk on for years, never knowing what to do because the one thing- the only thing you had in your life worth living for is gone. . . It'll be hell, and like Hell itself, there is no reprieve; no escape, and above all, no way to redeem yourself."
Dean suddenly realized that John was no longer talking about him and Sammy, but about himself and his own brother. The other Sam.
And just as quickly as John had offered comfort and spoke despair, his face cleared and a bright smile replaced the worried frown. "So I guess we need to save him then, eh?" His voice was on the creepy side of cheery and if Dean hadn't just witnessed that small window of weakness in his own eyes, he might have believed it.
"I guess we do." Dean agreed.
"And we need a plan." John continued.
At that, Dean grinned. "Nah man. Let's wing it."
John broke out into an identical more genuine grin and nodded his head. "I was hoping you would say that."
-SUPERNATURAL-
November 2, 1983
Liz hated her body. Well, her body she loved, but this meatsuit was definitely an annoyance to her. All the restrictions a human body presented were obstacles to be sure, but this mission didn't exactly require all that much movement and for that she was thankful. See, Liz was a demon. An overworked, underpaid, unappreciated demon.
Only two more jobs and she was finally free though. For an entire year she found herself under contract of good old Azazel himself, and she was already tiring of her tedious tasks. But that was how this all went; sucking up to the boss till you get that promotion you've been waiting for. As it was, that crossroad's position had been applied for bythousands of other black-eyed demons, and working for a yellow eyed had its perks. She was sure to get her red eyes if she didn't screw up this job.
Which brought her back to the present. The job. For the last year she had gone around from state to state, city to city, watching the certain families assigned to her. This one brought her to Kansas, and what a desolate, sinfully boring place it was.
The Winchester family was her assignment, and Samuel was her target. By taking over Liz's body, she managed to play innocent busy body neighbor who just happened to love little baby's. She really did love babies, just not in the way most humans think of.
She had seen the child, even held him in her arms but she still couldn't see what her boss did. He told her that this one was 'special'. Before the kid was born he was already naming this one his favorite of the bunch.
Liz often wondered to herself why he would raise up all these other children if he had already picked the one he wanted, but she kept those thoughts to herself. An underling should never question one of the big dogs. Especially is that dog happened to be a demon of the near highest rank with yellow eyes. He was powerful and she didn't want to be on the wrong side of his wrath.
But back to this Samuel kid.
Apparently he was important. More important than an entire city's souls combined.
But he was just a child. How was he supposed bring triumph for the damned? It boggled the mind of what her boss could be thinking. His plans were often extraordinarily elaborate, and this didn't seem like one of his smaller crusades.
Oh well.
She would do her job, and she would do it well. And when she got that promotion, she would look back at this and laugh at the days when she was just a flunky.
For hours she had been standing out in the cold waiting for her favorite part of this entire gig. The fire. It isn't all that odd that the fire holds a strange attraction to a Hell's citizen. Just like pictures of a beach reminds people of the ocean, it reminds them of home.
But this whole thing was taking unnaturally longer than it should. Maybe she should go in; make sure everything was going smoothly. What could it hurt? Besides, she never had been able to see the anointing process before. It could be a learning experience for her.
Without another thought she looked around to be sure no one was watching, ignored the limitations her body should have and she crouched low, sitting on the balls of her feet before springing up, shooting straight for the child's window. As soon as she reached the sill, she could feel the presence of a struggle going on, but nothing that indicated she was in danger.
Looking closer, peering through the darkness, she saw where the feeling was coming from. A woman, it seemed, had run into the room at the wrong time and was now sliding up the wall of the nursery and onto the ceiling. Mr. Yellow Eyes himself watched her growing fear and horror with his piercing gaze and gave a harsh laugh.
Liz couldn't help it, she gave her own little laugh of delight.
That was when everything went to hell. . . (so not literally)
Azazel jerked his head in her direction, shocked to see that his annoying underling had followed him into the house and to Liz's utter shock, his mental hold over the woman disappeared and she fell to the floor with a terrified scream, the crunching of bones breaking causing Liz to lick her lips even though she understood that she was now on the wrong side of her boss's wrath.
"Mary?" A male voice called from what sounded like the downstairs. Obviously the husband had heard the crash. What the demons hadn't counted on was that the woman was still conscious.
"JOHN!" She screamed out, causing pain to even the black-eyed demon's ears.
The baby began to cry and the sound of John's footsteps running up the stairs could be heard.
"Dammit." Azazel cursed. "Damn you girl." He hissed at Liz. Instantly, the room burst into flame and Mary screamed out, trying to crawl over to her baby's crib but the male demon was back to his senses and held her back with his mind as his hands scooped up the child and shoved it into Liz's arms.
"What-" Liz started but was cut off by the flaring of Azazel's eyes.
"Take the child. Take him to Scandalum's home. You will wait for me there." His voice was low and demanding.
"Yes sir." Liz nodded and quickly turned around to jump from the two story window before Azazel's voice rang out once again.
"And Liz,"
"Yes sir?"
"Don't even think about fucking this up." It was a threat; an unveiled one at that.
Liz swallowed the oversized lump in her throat and nodded yet again. "Yes sir."
And with that she propelled herself from the building, landing gracefully on the large oak tree in the yard across the street. Without looking back to see how her master would finish the job, she fled into the night, taking the whimpering child with her, never seeing the single boy run coughing outside of the Winchester house and catching sight of her and the baby with wide eyes.
-SUPERNATURAL-
A/N1: How's that for a chapter ending? I have to admit, I'm not sure how satisfied I am with how the whole conversation with Sam and Jim went, but I can't find a place to make changes so I guess I'll have to deal. I hope you all enjoyed it. :)
A/N2: Also, the word 'Scandalum' is Latin for 'slander' or 'cause of offence'. I wanted the demons' name to have meaning, so there you go. Lol
I think I'll leave the notes short this week so. . . thank you to everybody who's still reading. Reviews are what help me ace my tests, so help me pass English&Lit.! Write a review!
Your pencil-breaking writer friend - Kerri B.