Love. Fiction. 2018: Thanks you the review :)
Bamby
EPOV
I was willing to do whatever it took to save Dean. So was Sam. The fact the three of us were standing in an abandoned cabin, looking at a demon we'd caught, tied up and locked in a devil's trap so we could torture him... honestly it meant nothing to me. As long as Dean was saved, I didn't care.
Dean threw some holy water on to the demon who then screamed and thrashed around, the pain waking him from his unconsciousness.
"You ready to talk?" Dean snarled.
"I don't know. I don't know anything!"
Dean grinned, looking over to Sam and I. "Oh, you hear that? He doesn't know anything."
Sam smirked, nodding. "Yeah, I heard."
"I'm telling you the truth," the demon insisted.
"Oh, you are? My God, then I owe you an apology. Allow me to make it up to you." Stepping forward, Dean forced more holy water down the demon's throat. "I'm gonna ask you one last time... who holds my contract?!"
The demon fell silent for a moment, his head hanging. As he slowly began to look up at us, he revealed his black eyes and wide smile. "Your mother. Yeah, she, uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over."
Dean leaned closer to him, holding back his anger. "I want a name. Or else-"
"Or what? You're gonna squirt your holy water in both ends? Please. Brother, that's like a flea bite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket."
Pulling back, Dean gave me a simple nod. Turning my attention to the demon, I began to recite an exorcism.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus..."
"How does that feel?" Dean circled the demon. "Does that feel good?"
"Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio..."
Groaning, the demon forced words out through gritted teeth. "Go ahead. Send me back to hell. 'Cause when you get there, I'll be waiting for you... with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester."
I paused, my eyes wide as I looked to Dean. We were close, family, friends... lovers. He meant a lot to me. The idea of anything bad happening to him… I couldn't bare it.
Moving closer to me, Dean pressed a kiss to my temple. "Send him some place he can't hurt anyone else."
Nodding, I took a shaky breath as I continued with the exorcism.
"Infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te..."
DPOV
I walked up to Liz as she stood on the porch of the abandoned cabin we were squatting in. She was waiting for me, her arms folded over her chest, hands tucked under her arms as she hugged her dark red leather jacket to herself.
Before I could even stop walking, she spoke up, "I'm scared we're gonna lose you."
I had already been aware of that. As each day went by she changed. She was still the strong and capable woman we knew her to be, but at the same time she was becoming more fearful. As if her worry for me was taking control of the rest of her.
Sighing, I stepped up to her, unfolding her arms before sliding my hands down to her waist. "You're not gonna-"
She cut me off, rolling her eyes and pulling away. "Don't bullshit me, Dean. Unless you're a psychic, and you just forgot to mention it, don't try to predict the future."
"Aren't you doing the same?" I countered.
"No." She shook her head. "I'm preparing myself for the worst. Part of me hopes for the best, but I'm not setting myself up for disappointment. I'd much rather be happily surprised than heartbroken."
Grinning, I stepped closer to her again, my hands grabbing her waist once more as I pulled her to my chest. "Heartbroken?" I pressed a kiss to her neck as my hands moved around to the small of her back.
"Don't play dumb with me, Winchester." She fought against a smile. "We may not be a couple, but you're certainly the closest thing to a boyfriend I've had." Pulling away, she looked up at me with scared and sad eyes "I don't want to lose you… but it feels like I'm going to."
Time was running short. Three weeks was not much, and the closer to my end we got, the worse we were all feeling.
Just being here with Liz, or spending time with my brother, I knew how precious it all was. I knew how much I'd need it if things were to go south- literally. So, for a moment longer, I was going to let us stand there, in the embrace, enjoying it just a little while longer.
EPOV
Walking back into the cabin beside Dean, we just caught the end of Sam's phone call.
"You ran the prints twice? Are you sure? Okay. Yeah, just chalk it up to lab error. Don't I know it. Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I'll tell the lieutenant." He hung up and turned to us without pausing. "Bury the body?"
Dean gave a sharp nod. "Yeah. Looks like these demons ride 'em hard just for kicks." He walked us over to the table, grabbing and opening a beer before handing it over to me and then grabbing his own. "What was the phone call about?" he asked as we moved to sit on the couch.
"Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?"
Dean took a drink of his beer before answering. "'Stripper suffocates dude with thighs'?" he answered, causing me to elbow him in the ribs. "Hey." He turned to me. "What was that for?"
"Pretty sure Sam was talking about the other thing," I told him, a smile on my face as I moved to snuggle into his side. "The guy that walked into the ER and died before anyone could help him. His liver was ripped out or something, right?"
Sam nodded. "I just found out something pretty damn interesting."
"What?" Dean asked, turning to his brother as his free arm moved to drape over my shoulders.
"The dead body was covered in bloody fingerprints, not the victim's."
"Okay, great." Dean shrugged, seeming uninterested. "My man Dave Caruso will be stoked to hear it."
"Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981."
I sat up, interested. "Really?"
"So, what are we talking? Uh, walking dead?" Dean grinned. "Walking, killing dead?"
Sam shrugged. "Maybe."
"Zombies do like the other, other white meat. Huh." Dean took another drink of his beer. "Speaking of, what do you care about zombies?"
Sam frowned, giving a short shake of his head. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you've been on soul-saving detail for months now. And we're three weeks out, and all of a sudden, you're interested in some hot zombie action?" Dean did have a good point.
Sam shook his head, scoffing. "Hey, man, you're the one who's been all gung ho to hunt. I just thought I'd be doing you a favour." He turned to leave.
"Hey, no, no, no, no, no." Dean got to his feet following his brother. "I didn't say I didn't want to do it, okay. I mean obviously I want to hunt some zombies."
I sighed, a grin on my lips. "Looks like we've got a case."
DPOV
The three of us stood in the coroner's lab as he explained the case to us. "Yeah, the rest of the body was intact. The liver was the only organ missing."
"Now, where the liver was ripped out, did you happen to notice any... ah... teeth marks?" I asked.
The corner frowned at each of us as if he thought we were insane. "Can I see your badges?"
"Of course, sure." Sam nodded as we all pulled out our badges to show him.
After taking a moment to look at all our badges, the corner sighed. "Fine. So, you're cops and morons."
"Excuse me? No, no. We're very smart." I insisted.
"The liver was not ripped out," the corner explained as he led us to the body. "It was removed. Surgically." He showed us the stitches. "By someone who knew their way around a scalpel. Didn't you read my report?"
"Of course we did," I lied. "Oh, it was riveting. It was a real page-turner, just delightful."
Raising his eyes brow at me, the corner sighed. "You done?"
"I think so." I gave a sharp nod.
"Please go away."
"Okay." I turned to leave, only to stop as Liz spoke up.
"I just want to apologise on behave of my partner. He's new, and we were told to give him the lead on the case." She smiled charmingly at the corner. "We can't exactly leave without any solid information that might help... so, if you wouldn't mind, could I have a copy of the report. I'd rather get it straight from the brains behind the operation."
My jaw dropped as the corner's face softened. He was eating everything she said, swimming in the look she was giving him as if he hadn't had any female attention for months. But it was when he turned and grabbed a copy of the report without so much as I noise, that's what shocked me the most.
Reaching forward to take the file, Liz's smile grew. "Thank you so much. I really do appreciate it."
...
As we walked down the hall, I noticed Sam grinning to himself.
"What?" I snapped, annoyed. Liz was too charming… I didn't like it.
He shook his head at me. "Nothing." Bullshit. "So, that kind of punches a hole in our zombie theory, huh, that scalpel thing?"
"Yeah, zombie with skills, 'Dr Quinn, medicine zombie'." I chuckled.
"Maybe we're on the wrong track, Dean, looking for hacked-up corpses," Sam suggested.
I frowned slightly, confused. "What should we be looking for?"
"Survivors," Liz answered for him.
Sam nodded, agreeing with her. "This isn't zombie lunch. This is organ theft."
SPOV
"I told the cops all of this yesterday. I don't want to talk about it anymore."
The three of us were standing by the bed of a patient who'd had his kidney stolen. Unlike the other victim, this guy had survived.
"It's just a couple of questions, sir," I assured him.
"Hey, man. I just got my kidney stolen. I'm tired."
"We'll be out of here quick." Dean tried to be gentle as he attempted to persuade the guy. "Don't you want to get the guy?"
The patient turned to him. "Will it get me back my kidney?"
"Look." Lizzie sighed, stepping closer to the man. "I understand that this has been a traumatic experience, and honestly I don't blame you for not wanting to bring up the memories. But there have been more victims. Some people aren't surviving like you did. So if you could give as some information, anything, then maybe we can stop this person."
She was good. I could see the guy actually thinking about it before he gave a sigh and a short nod, letting us know he was willing to cooperate.
I pulled out my pen to write some noted down in my pad I was holding. "So what's the last thing you remember?"
"Feeding my meter. I got jumped from behind... and then I wake up strapped to a table. And then the worst pain you could possibly imagine, only worse. And then I black out again. Thank God. And then I wake up screaming in some no-tell motel in a bathtub full of ice."
"Do you remember anything about the surgery? You know, what the guy looked like, any details about the room?" Dean pressed for more.
"Let me think about that." The patient paused for a moment. "Yeah... one thing is coming back to me. You know what I remember? Getting my kidney cut out of my body!" he snapped, clearly done with the questioning.
DPOV
I moved to join Liz and Sam at the table as they did some research. Placing my paper bag in front of me, I reached into it and pulled out my burger, smiling eagerly at it.
"So, I got a theory," Sam started.
"Yeah?" I asked, taking a large bite out of my burger.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I talked to Mr Giggle's doctor. Turns out his incisions were sewn up with silk."
I frowned slightly. "That's weird," I noted as Liz reached over and took a bite out of my burger. "Hey!" I pulled it away from her.
She grinned, moving her chair next to me, batting her eyes. "It just looks so good."
"Anyway." Sam tried not to look at us as he failed to hide his smile. "Silk used to be the suture of choice back in the early 19th century. It was really problematic. Patients would get massive infections. The death rate was insane." He turned his computer around so I could take a look.
I flicked through the tabs on his screen. "Good times."
"Right, so doctors, they had to do whatever they could to keep infections from spreading. One way was maggots."
Pausing my chewing, I gestured to my burger. "Dude, I'm eating."
But Sam just kept going, "It actually kind of worked because maggots, they eat bad tissue, and they leave good tissue. And get this. When they found our guy, his body cavity was stuffed full of maggots."
"Dude, I'm eating!" I repeated. "Alright, let me get this straight. So, people are getting ganked, right?"
Sam gave a short nod. "Yeah."
"A little 'antiques roadshow' surgery, some organ theft. But why is this all sounding familiar?"
"Because you heard it before." Sam actually looked excited. "When you were a kid... from dad. Doc Benton... real-life doctor, lived in New Hampshire, brilliant and obsessed with alchemy, especially how to live forever. So, in 1816, Doc abandons his practice and-"
I cut him off, knowing the rest of the story, "Right, yeah, nobody hears from him for like twenty years, and all of sudden, people start showing up dead."
"Dead or missing an organ or their hand or some other kind of part."
"Cause whatever he was doing was actually working. He just kept on ticking. Parts would wear out, he'd replace them. But I thought dad hunted him down and took his heart out."
"Yeah, I guess the Doc must have plugged in a new one."
Liz reached for dad's journal that sat on the table. "So, if this guy is still kicking, where do we find him?"
"According to dad's journal, Benton's picky about where he sets up his lab. He likes dense forest with access to a river or stream or some kind of freshwater," Sam answered.
I took another bite of my burger before asking, "Why?"
"Because that's where he likes to dump the bile and intestines and faecal matter." He smirked at my disgusted face as I gagged. "Lost your appetite yet?"
Looking down at my burger, I considered it for a moment. My eyes moved from the burger, to Sam and then back, before I shook my head. "Oh baby, I can't stay mad at you." I took a large bite out of it.
EPOV
I had to admit, this was a pretty exciting case. A man turned Frankenstein like monster. Not only was it fascinating, but it was a nice change from our usual activities. Chasing down Bela. Trying to find a way to get Dean out of his contract. Catching and torturing demons for information.
This was actually a little fun.
Standing by the bed with Sam and Dean, we looked down at the map laid out on the blankets in front of us.
Sam pointed to some areas on the map which we'd circled red. "So these are all the cabins. Most of them have been abandoned for years."
"So, what the hell are we waiting for?" Dean asked, seconds before his phone began to ring. Moving to the table, he answered, putting it on speaker. "Bobby."
"Hey. Think I finally got a lead on Bela."
"I'm listening."
"Rufus Turner."
Ah, yes, Rufus Turner. Never met the guy, but heard enough stories. Not all were bad, not all were good. Honestly, he was a good hunter and that's all I cared about.
"Who's that?" Dean asked. "Like a Cleveland steamer?"
"He's a hunter, or he used to be."
"And now?"
"Hermit mostly. Does a little selling on the side. Anyway. I put the word out on Bela months ago. He just called. Said a woman got in touch, wanted to buy some things."
"And he thinks it's Bela?"
"British accent, went by the name Mina Chandler."
Dean paused, turning to Sam and me. "She's used that before. Well, it's kinda of a sloppy move, isn't it? Getting in contact with one of your old friends."
"Friend?" Bobby scoffed. "Haven't laid eyes on him in fifteen years. He's not the Christmas card type. I doubt she knows I know him. Canaan, Vermont."
"Thanks, Bobby. We're on our way."
"One other thing. Take a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue."
"Okay." Hanging up, Dean nodded to Sam and me. "Come on."
"What?" Sam frowned. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second."
Dean didn't stop as he moved to grab his jacket and bag. "Come on. Get your stuff. The clock's ticking."
But Sam still didn't do as he was told. "Look, I think we should stay here and finish the case."
"You insane?"
"Dean, there's no way she still has the Colt! That was months ago! She probably sold it the second she got it." Sam had a good point.
"Well, then I'll kill her." Dean shrugged. "Win-win."
Sam sighed. "Dean..."
"Sam. We're going!"
But Sam wasn't having a bar of it. "No."
Dean turned to him, getting more and more worked up by the minute. "Why the hell not?"
"Dean, this… this here. Now. This is what's gonna save you."
Dean shook his head. "What? Chasing some Frankenstein?"
I was about to explain that we had a responsibility to keep going with the case and to stop the guy who was killing and chopping up people to take their organs. But Sam spoke up first, and what he had to say shocked me.
"Chasing immortality," Sam explained, earning startled looks from Dean and I. "Look, Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you."
Dean wasn't angry anymore, just confused. "What are you talking about?"
"You have to die before you go to hell, right? So, if you can never die, then-"
"Wait, wait, wait," Dean cut Sam off, stepping closer to his brother. The tension in his body had me stepping back. "Wait a second. Did you know that this was Doc Benton from the jump?"
"No." When Dean kept looking at Sam, not believing him, Sam sighed, "Look, I was hoping."
"So, the whole zombie thing, it was lying to me?"
"I didn't wanna say anything until I was sure, Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here."
"No. What you're trying to do is chase Slicy McHackey here. And to kill him? No. You wanna buy him a freaking beer. You wanna study him."
"I was just trying to help."
"You're not helping! You forget that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what, living forever is welching."
Sam shrugged. "Fine! Then, whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too!"
Dean shook his head, walking back to his bag. "Oh, what is this? Sid and Nancy? No. It's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon who owns the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot."
"Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket."
"Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?" He looked to both Sam and me.
I was the one to speak, my voice quiet. "We're staying."
Dean looked to me, shocked once more. "You too?" He shook his head. "No, you're not. 'Cause I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ stealing freak."
Sam stood his ground. "You're not gonna let us?"
"No, I'm not gonna let you."
"How are you gonna stop us?" Sam asked, startling Dean again. "Look, man, we're trying to do the same thing here."
"I know. But I'm going. So, if you wanna stay," Dean actually looked hurt, avoiding my gaze, "stay." He pulled his bag over his shoulder and started for the door, only to stop when he was next to me. Cupping my face, he turned me so I'd look at him, pressing his lips to mine in a deep kiss. As he pulled away, he sighed and looked over my head at his brother. "Sammy, be careful."
I could hear that Sam had turned to face Dean as he responded, his voice soft. "You too."
There was a moment's pause as Dean looked from Sam to me before he let my cheek go and walked to the door and out of the room, leaving us.
DPOV
It wasn't goodbye. It wasn't goodbye. It wasn't goodbye. It wasn't goodbye. I had to keep repeating those three words in my head to reminded myself that I would see Liz and Sam again. Just because they were going after an immortal serial killer, and I was going after the slimy bitch that had stolen the Colt, did not mean any of us were going to die. It wasn't goodbye.
Climbing the porch steps, I came to a stop at a door where a sign hung. It read, 'No solicitors, that means you! No asking for donations. No selling ANYTHING!'. Shaking my head, I lifted my hand and rang the buzzer before knocking on the door.
A noise caught my attention. Looking up, I spotted a camera moving to face me.
"What?" a voice called through the intercom.
"Hi, uh, Rufus?"
"Yeah, even if I am, the question is still the same. What?"
"Uh, I'm Dean Winchester. I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's."
"So?"
"You called him this morning."
"So?"
"Uh..." I tried grinning at the camera, but this guy was wearing down my patience. "You told Bobby about a British chick who made contact with you."
"And so?"
"You know where she is?"
"Yeah."
"Great. Could you tell me where I could find her?"
"No."
"Course not," I mumbled to myself before speaking into the telecom again. "Look, Rufus, man-"
The door opened as Rufus- an African American man around Bobby's age- stepped out. "Look, let me point something out to you. You are knocking at my door, so don't 'Look, man' me. I'm not your man."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"All right, let me tell you a little story. See, once upon a time, Bobby called me, asked me to call him if I got a whiff of this Bela Talbot. I got a whiff. I called. The end."
"Okay, yeah, if you could just tell me where she is, I mean, that would be great."
"Dean Winchester, right?"
"Yeah." I nodded.
"Dean, do I look like I'm here to help you?"
"I'm gonna say no."
"Then get the hell of my property."
"All right, yeah, fair enough. I got one more question for you, though." I reached into my bag that sat on my shoulder. "See, I got this, uh, this bottle of scotch, and... uh, is this considered good?" I asked, pulling out a Johnnie Walker Blue Label out.
Rufus eyed the bottle and then me, before smiling.
Bamby
