EPOV
Hands shoved into the pockets of my 'FBI' coat, I followed a step behind Sam and Dean as we walked down a street in Las Vegas. But we weren't here for fun. No gambling for us, unfortunately. No. This was all about a job.
As we crossed the street, we neared a gathering people standing around a man dressed in black leather, and ripped jeans, with dark hair and eyeliner.
"This, this isn't a trick, okay?" the man told the audience as he shuffled some cards. "I- I- I don't do tricks. This is a demonstration. About demons and angels. Love and lust. All that stuff mixed up in my head."
"What a douchebag," Dean mumbled as we came to stand with the crowd.
I looked to the side, glancing at the cameraperson and microphone person as they focused on the man.
"That's Jeb Dexter," Sam noted.
Dean looked up at him, confused. "I don't even want to know how you know that."
Sam just shrugged. "He's famous, kind of."
"For what? Douchebaggery?"
I held back a laugh at Dean's disapproving attitude. "It's entertainment, Winchester." I smirked, looking up at the older brother.
He looked down at me, surprised for a moment before he returned my grin with a smirk of his own.
Jeb's voice pulled our attention back to him as he kept talking to the crowd. "But whatever happens, no matter how messed up it gets, don't touch me, okay? For your own safety, " he warned before inhaling deeply.
After a moment, he closed his eyes and exhaled, focusing as he shifted on the spot. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, letting the air out again.
Suddenly he gasped as he began to shake as if having a seizure. With one hand, he grabbed the deck of cards that sat in the other hand as he opened his eyes enough so we could only see the whites.
"Go back to hell, demon!" Flinging the cards at the window behind him, we all watched as one of the cards stuck to the glass. The ace of diamonds. Reaching forward, Jeb ran his hand over the card, only to reveal that it was on the other side of the glass now. "Is this your card?" he asked a woman in the audience.
Applause broke out in the crowd.
"You've got to be kidding me. A fake demon possession?" Dean shook his head as he turned to walk away. "I can't believe people actually fall for that crap."
"It's not all crap," Sam argued as the two of us followed Dean.
"What part of that was not a steaming pile of BS?" Dean asked, gesturing back to Jeb and the people surrounding him.
Sam gave a short nod, agreeing with Dean there. "Okay, that was crap, but that's not all magicians. It takes skill."
Stopping in his tracks, Dean turned to his brother, grinning. "Oh, right, right, I forgot. You were actually into this stuff, weren't you?"
A smile spread across my lips. "Really?"
Turning to me, Dean was clearly enjoying the fact he was embarrassing his brother. "I mean, he had like a deck of cards, a wand and everything," he told me.
I had to fight back the laugh bubbling in my chest. Sam Winchester, an aspiring magician. Now that's something I would have wanted to see.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, I was thirteen. It was a phase."
Shaking his head, Dean shrugged. "Just... it bugs me. You know, playing at demons and, and magic, when the real thing will kill you bloody."
"Like a guy who drops dead of ten stab wounds without a single tear in his shirt?" Sam noted, talking about the case.
Dean gave a sharp nod as he started to walk again. "That's what I'm talking about."
DPOV
In the victim's hotel room, Liz, Sam and I were in the process of asking his assistant some questions while she packed up all of Vance's- the victim's- things.
"So, did your boss have any enemies that you know of?" I asked.
The assistant nodded. "Vance had plenty of enemies." Leaning down, she grabbed the end of a series of tied-together handkerchiefs and began to pull them out of a bag to wrap them up.
"How so?" Sam questioned.
The assistant shrugged. "He would steal from other magicians. All the time."
"What would he steal?" Liz asked while I frowned at the handkerchief rope that just kept coming out of the bag as if it would never end.
See, this is one of the reasons why I didn't like this kind of magic. I just didn't understand why it was so interesting. A never-ending rope of handkerchiefs? Where's the magic in that? How is it supposed to be entertaining?
That's another thing. Magic is not supposed to be entertaining. It's dangerous. Deadly. Real magic? It ends in death, and torture and mayhem. Real magic? It's messy and gross and bloody.
"Stage effects, closeup techniques," the assistant answered, the rope finally coming to an end. "Anything he could get his hands on."
Pulling my attention back to the assistant, I asked the next question. "Is that enough to get him killed?"
"These guys take this stuff pretty seriously," she noted as she reached over to remove a cloth from a table, revealing a white rabbit. "There you are." Bending down, she picked the rabbit up as I spoke again.
"Did you find anything weird in Vance's stuff? Well, weirder?"
"Matter of fact, I did." Putting the rabbit in a bag, she then pulled something out of a pocket of a cape before showing us the object.
It was a tarot card, the Ten of Swords. The picture on the card was of a man lying on the ground with ten swords sticking into his back.
"I'm guessing this didn't belong to Vance," Sam noted as he reached forward to take the car.
The assistant shook her head. "He hated card tricks. Never wanted them around. Let alone in his precious cape."
EPOV
While Sam was off doing some research, Dean and I walked into a theatre to find a possible lead. Up the front, on top of the stage, hung a sign. The Incredible Jay over the Table of Death. Under that sign of Jeb, on the phone, clearly annoyed and pissed.
"It's a lame gig. I'm in a fleabag hotel doing this man-of-the-people crap, and freaking Angel's in Vegas doing Cirque du Soleil! That should have been mine." He shook his head, even though the person on the other end of the phone couldn't see him. Hanging up, he sat down at a table, across from an older man while the camera crew hovered. "All right, boys, get it in gear, I don't got all day."
Dean and I moved to a table near Jeb's where two older men sat, watching the interview between Jeb and the other older man.
"You Vernon Haskell?" Dean asked as he sat behind the man he was addressing.
"Who's asking?"
"Federal agent, Ulrich. This is my partner, Agent Hetfield," Dean introduced as the two of us pulled out our FBI IDs. "We're looking into the death of Patrick Vance."
Our attention was pulled back to Jeb as he started the interview. "I'm Jeb Dexter. This is Devil Twist. We're chilling at the International Magicians' Convention, which is a dope chance to tip my hat to the wicked cats who came before me. Smoking hot effect last night, Jim."
"Jay," the older man corrected.
Jeb frowned at him, clearly confused. "Huh?"
"My name is Jay."
"Yeah, whatever." Jeb waved Jay off. "We can loop it later."
Vernon shook his head at the younger magician. "What a douchebag."
"Couldn't agree more." Dean grinned as I held back a chuckle. "Is, uh," he pulled the Ten of Swords card out from his pocket, "this familiar to you?"
Turning to give the card a glance, Vernon shrugged as he focused on Jeb and Jay again. "Should it be?"
"Well, we heard that you used tarot cards in your act," Dean noted.
"My act?" Vernon let out a humous laugh. "That was a long time ago. I haven't touched a deck in years, you know..." He held up his hand, showing us how shaky it was.
"Well, do you know anyone who might use them now?" I asked.
Vernon thought about it for a moment before nodding. "Well, there was a guy down on Bleeker Street."
"Oh, yeah. He, he peddles that kind of specialty stuff," the man with Vernon added.
Dean looked to the two men. "Did he have a problem with Vance?"
"Matter of fact, Vance crossed him about a year ago," Vernon answered, voice slightly hushed. "Probably cost him fifty grand in royalties," he added, the man next to him nodding confirmation.
"Would you happen to know where this person is?" I asked as Dean tucked the tarot card back into the pocket of his jacket.
"Four twenty-six Bleeker," Vernon answered without missing a beat.
"Ask for Chief," his friend added.
"Chief?" Dean asked, getting a nod in return. "Thank you." He gave Vernon a pat on the back as the two of us stood, leaving.
...
"Stay close to me," Dean told me as we walked down the creepy looking street, heading for the building Vernon and his friend directed us to.
I wasn't feeling too good about this. The lonely street. The sirens in the background. The dark night. The unending possibilities of danger lurking in every corner of the place. It just wasn't sitting right with me.
Coming to stop at the door of the building we were looking for, Dean knocked on the bars of the door before taking half a step back so he stood closer to me.
The chain-link door inside swung open, revealing a man dressed in black, who looked the two of us up and down.
Trying to play it cool, Dean moved another inch or so closer to me as he spoke to the man. "We're, uh… here to see Chief."
Raising an eyebrow, the guy looked us over once more before opening the door without a word. Stepping to the side, he gestured for us to enter, which we did.
The moment I stepped over the threshold, Dean's hand found its way into mine. I was startled for a moment but didn't question or stop him. I knew he was just being his protective self, so I let him hold my hand as we moved through the dark and mysterious building, following the man as he took us down to the basement.
As we came to a stop, the man turned to us. "Stay here. Don't touch anything," was all he said before he walked off.
Once we were alone, I turned to Dean, shaking my head. "I don't like this."
Looking around, I tried to ignore the gut-wrenching feeling inside me that was screaming at me, telling me to get out of there. The graffiti on the walls, exposed pipes, and dark atmosphere, it all seemed to increase the suspicion growing inside me.
Suddenly some music started playing in the background. We could hear the thumping of the bass get louder as a door opened, the light on the other side streaming in. Another man walked into the room, climbing the stairs, the light coming in from behind him making it hard to get a good look of the guy. That was until he stepped closer...
The was dressed in all leather, carrying a flogger which he used to slap his hand a few times. "You are really gonna get it tonight." He grinned at the two of us.
Dean moved a little closer to me as he tried to explain our way out of his. "There's been a misunderstanding." He grinned, just as embarrassed as I suddenly felt. "I, uh, think we've been had."
"Oh, you ain't been had till you been had by the Chief." The Chief smirked for a moment before he quickly added, "Oh, and before we get started, what's your safe-word?"
Oh, my God...
SPOV
Sitting in the motel room, doing some research on my laptop, I looked up at the sound of a knock on the door. Getting out of my seat, I walked around to go check to see who might be here. As I looked through the peephole, I let out a sigh, seeing Ruby on the other side.
Opening the door, I looked down at her. "What are you doing here, Ruby?"
Arms crossed over her chest, she looked as annoyed as I felt. "I should be asking you the same thing," she countered, pushing past me and into the room.
Closing the door, I followed her to the middle of the room. "I'm working a job."
"The whole world's about to be engulfed in hellfire, and you're in Magictown, USA."
I let out a short, bitter laugh. "You got something against magic?"
"That would almost be funny if thirty-four seals hadn't been broken already." She gave me an exasperated look. "Thirty-four, Sam. That's over halfway. The angels are losing this war. Every day is one day closer, and if someone doesn't do something soon-"
I cut her off, "And that someone is me?"
"Who else would it be? Lizzie?"
"Leave her out of this." If I didn't want anything to do with the end of the world, there was no way I was letting Lizzie deal with it. Not the way Ruby was talking about. "Look, I don't know where these seals are. I don't know squat. So why don't you tell me where you'd like me to start?"
"Well, you can quit dicking around here, for one. Bigger fish, Sam. And if the seals are being broken, you might want to go after the one doing the breaking."
"Lilith?"
"Cut the head off the snake. You're the only one who can stop her, Sam." She stepped up to me. "So, step up and kill the little bitch," she said as she passed me to stand on the other side of the room.
"Oh, I'm game, believe me," I assured her as I moved to where she'd been standing before. "It's not the psychic thing I got a problem with."
"Yeah, I know what you got a problem with, but tough. It's the only way."
"No." It was that simple.
"You know, this would all be so much easier if you'd just admit to yourself that you like it. That feeling that it gives you."
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, I don't, huh? Fine." She moved to leave, only to stop herself. "It's simple. Lucifer rises, the apocalypse starts. You think that you have blood on your hands now? People are gonna die, Sam. Oceans of people. So, you just let me know when you're ready." This time, she didn't stop, she just left.
DPOV
Back in the theatre, Liz and I headed over to where Sam stood, waiting for us. Liz and I hadn't really talked about what happened at the Chief's. It was awkward. Not because something happened, nothing happened, really. Once we explained the situation, the Chief was pretty understanding. Apparently, people got tricked into going there a lot.
No, the awkward part was what happened after. When Liz and I were in the dark street again. Standing there, in silence, thinking over what had just happened, and all the memories it brought up. Memories of us.
There was no point in denying my feelings anymore. I liked Liz. I knew. Sam knew it. I was pretty sure Liz did, too. So, standing there, in the ally, by ourselves... yeah it had been awkward.
"Find anything interesting?" I asked Sam as we reached him.
He turned to us. "What? Uh, no. You?"
I shook my head. "Nothing I want to talk about, or think about, ever again." There was no way I was telling him about the Chief. So, instead, I started towards Vernon and his friend as they stood closer to the stage. "The Chief, huh?"
They both turned to Liz, Sam and I, Vernon's friend smirking at us. "What's the matter? Chief not your type?"
I grinned back, but was clearly unamused. "You know, I could have you both arrested for obstruction of justice."
"How? You're no Fed," Vernon stated simply.
"We con people for a living, son," his friend added. "Takes more than a fake badge to get past us."
I let out a nervous laugh, our cover was blown. "You got us. Yeah, we- we are actually- aspiring magicians," I lied.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, we- we came to the convention 'cause we thought we could learn something."
"To get some idea for our new show," Liz finished.
Vernon looked intrigued. "Ooh, what kind of show?"
"Well, it's- it's a-"
When I stumbled on thinking something up, Sam saved the day. "It's a brother act."
"And I'm their assistant," Liz quickly added.
I went on with the lie, trying to make it sound believable. "Yeah. Yeah, you know, with the rings and doves and... rings."
Before anyone else could say more, applause broke out in the gathering audience as someone spoke into a microphone, introducing an act. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Incredible Jay."
"You want to learn something? Stick around." Vernon's friend gestured to the stage where Jay- the guy who Jeb had interviewed earlier- stood.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Jay addressed the audience, "what you're about to witness is a feat so daring, So dangerous, even the great Houdini dared not attempt it. I give to you...The Executioner!" Suddenly, a noose fell from the roof as the crowd 'oohed' and 'ahhed'.
...
Jay was now strapped into a straightjacket, the noose around his neck as someone from the audience checked to make sure that he was in fact, securely strapped in.
"Now, sir, as you can see, this jacket is the real article. Thank you, sir." Jay nodded to the man. "You may take your seat." Once the man was off the stage, Jay addressed everyone again. "Now, I will have one minute, sixty seconds, to escape certain death. Let's see if I can do it."
A curtain fell in front of Jay, so only his silhouette can be seen and he began to struggle and a time started to tick away.
He continues to try and escape, but as far as I could see, he wasn't getting anywhere. He was still firming strapped into the jacket.
"I don't think he's gonna make it," I mumbled to Liz and Sam.
The timer kept ticking down. Twenty-five seconds. Twenty. Fifteen. Yet he still wasn't out. There was no change.
As the clock reached ten seconds, Liz's hand grabbed mine, squeezing it tightly. I looked over at her, seeing her eyes wide with fear and anticipation. Turning back to the stage, I watched as the timed clicked to zero and the bottom under Jay fell away, leaving him hanging.
People cried out, gasped, stood and looked away as the lights changed so we could no longer see the silhouette.
But the curtains were then pushed aside, revealing Jay, standing there, unharmed and out of the noose and jacket.
People cheered and applauded the act as Jay gave a bow.
"Oh! That was amazing!" I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. "That was freakin' amazing!"
But Sam shook his head, looking at the stage, confused. "That was... not humanly possible."
Bamby