AN: If any of you are knitters you know that sometimes you need one or two set up rows before you can get into the pattern proper. Well, consider the first 2.75 chapters of this story like set up rows. This is a longer chapter and the main action is coming up!
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Dean woke to an elbow in the stomach and the sounds of Dad moving around the kitchen.
"You awake, Dean?" Sam asked in the four-year-old's poor approximation of a whisper.
Dean rolled over so he was draped over Sam, though he was careful to keep most of his weight off the smaller boy. "Nope," he gave the proscribed answer. "I'm sleepin' with my eyes open."
Sam giggled. "You're too heavy to be a blanket." He shoved ineffectually at Dean's chest.
"Sorry. Can't hear you. I'm sleeping," Dean responded, tucking Sam more firmly underneath himself.
"Deeeeeeeeeeeeean!" Sam started to squirm in earnest now.
With no school, they'd normally keep this up until one of them couldn't put off a bathroom trip any longer. But today, Dad called out. "Boys. Front and center." That was Dad code for: you have about 30 seconds to get here. He didn't sound angry, but there was tension in his voice.
Dad was doing something to the kitchen window of the apartment where they were staying. He turned with a frown as the boys tumbled into the living room slash dining room. "Boys, do either of you know why the door was unlocked? And all of the windows?"
"No sir," Dean answered, as Sam simply shook his head.
Dad frowned harder. "Did either of you hear anything overnight?"
"No sir," said Dean again.
"Knocking," said Sam. "Dad, I hafta go potty."
Dad told him to go ahead, then turned dark eyes to Dean. "Neither of us heard anything," he mused, not really a question. Dean shook his head anyway. Dad's eyes were far away, then they sharpened. "I need to do some research after breakfast. You wanna come or stay here?"
"Stay," Dean answered immediately. Research meant library, and that meant sitting quietly. He'd much rather stay in the apartment and roughhouse with his brother. Besides, he had a handful of comics to read. His buddy Jerry got a new comic every week and he was happy to lend Dean the ones he'd already read.
Dad called Uncle Bobby during breakfast and didn't get mad when the boys played finger football with Cheerios. Then he, oddly, measured all of the windows and told Dean to put a chair under the door while he was gone. It was...unsettling.
But whatever was going on, Dad would figure it out. And in the meantime, Dean would watch out for Sammy.
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
Sam rubbed his hands together as he waited for the next website to load. Warm shower, dry clothes, and cranked room heat notwithstanding, he was still cold. He'd never been a fan of truly cold weather, and his time in California seemed to have permanently thinned his blood. He wished for a moment that they stayed places with unlimited hot water. Sam had only taken a warm shower, unwilling to leave only cold water for his brother after their hours outside.
A knock on the door had Sam closing the laptop and giving two sharp raps on the bathroom door to let Dean know not to come out. One hand on the gun at the small of his back, Sam eased the door open.
It was a deputy Sam hadn't met yet. He waved a gloved hand full of files. "Chief said to bring these to you and your partner and pick up the stuff you borrowed, Agent...?"
"Page. Yeah, come in a sec." Sam stepped back to let the man come in out of the frigid air. They'd known to expect the visit, so there was nothing incriminating in sight.
The deputy looked around curiously as Sam gathered the cold weather gear. "The FBI won't spring for a better place than this?"
"We get a set amount per night," Sam prevaricated. "So we stay some place cheap, we get to pocket the difference."
The other man nodded. Money was a universal language. "Word around town is that not only aren't you total dicks, you looked for Missy longer than anybody else did."
"We just want to find the kids." It was still odd to be working so well with the police, but it was kind of nice.
"Well, sounds like nobody'll take your money at Peg's Diner, in case you wanna save on food too." He nodded as if to himself. "Oh, and Jenna and Zach Hansen's mother says you can stop by any time tomorrow morning. No school for Christmas break."
Sam nodded his thanks and the other man left in another swirl of cold air. Holy balls, that's cold, Sam thought, knocking three times on the bathroom door to let Dean know it was all clear again. The invective reminded Sam of Bobby, and he decided to call the man if he ran stuck with his research.
By the time Dean emerged from the shower, though, a picture was starting to form. Sam updated Dean on the deputy's visit offhandedly, focused on the map on front of him.
Dean snickered as he pulled on a hoodie. "When you're all distracted like that, you remind me of..." Dad. Though Dean didn't finish the sentence, Sam knew what he'd been thinking.
"Just looking for patterns," Sam answered and saw Dean relax minutely that Sam wasn't going to pursue it.
"And?"
"And every kid that's missing lived on or very near one of these lakes." Sam tapped the map. "And even though they all look separate, they're actually a chain of lakes connected to the same source. And they were dug out by glaciers -- they're really deep, so they won't be completely frozen through. That makes me think it's a water entity of some kind. I don't think spirit because it seems like too broad an area." Vengeful ghost, of a drowning or hypothermic victim, had been his first thought, but they were normally tied to an area.
Dean shivered and Sam wished the crappy heat would go higher. "All that ice makes me cold just thinking about it," grumbled the older brother, but it seemed like something else was bothering him too. Yeah, like missing kids, dummy, Sam castigated himself.
"Unfortunately, there's still quite a few options for those that have a, um, preference for children." He'd almost said taste. "I'm looking into local legends and trying to focus on the unlocked doors. Dean. Dean?"
Sam had added the last two words because Dean had stopped toweling off his hair to stare into space. Sam frowned at his brother. Was this some residual sign of a problem? Could he have hypothermia somehow? Could...?
"Stop staring at me," groused Dean, still looking into space. "I'm tryin'...this whole case reminds me of something but I can't remember what." He scowled and Sam calmed. Irritated, frustrated. Not sick or hurting. Sam knew he'd been paranoid since the accident. Since he'd lost one of the people he'd thought were immortal. He quickly turned back to his papers before Dean could read his eyes.
"Maybe we should check D -, uh, the journal." Real smooth, Sam. They were both on a roll.
"I will. But first I'm gonna check out if we're really getting free food from the diner. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee."
"Don't go with wet hair," said Sam, aware that he was fussing.
Dean rolled his eyes, but toweled his hair off more before pulling on his boots and gearing up to brave the cold. Sam had to bite back more admonishments to be careful and stay warm. He'd never known he had such a mothering streak until it was just the two of them left.
But he really wished they had better winter gear.
Dean was gone quite a while, but Sam managed to stay focused on the information enough to find another clue...maybe.
"Damn, that's cold," Dean stomped his feet and pulled the door hard to close it behind himself. He was loaded up with far too many packages to only be food. "Check this out -- man did I get a good deal. Turns out we're local heroes even though we haven't found any of the kids." Dean's face darkened momentarily at his own words. "Yet," he added, and Sam believed him.
With a Vanna White flourish, Dean pulled out two parkas. He tossed the navy one to Sam. "Sasquatch size!"
Sam held it up, impressed to see that it would fall to at least midthigh on him. Dean threw some heavy gloves at him next. "Just about maxed the card, but I figured we already have hats and our boots will work."
Boots and snow pants would be nice, Sam thought, but the coats looked extremely warm and were a damn sight better than what they'd had.
"Nice. Because we need to go out tonight."
Dean groaned. "Figures. Food first."
As they ate, Sam explained what he'd found. "This may or may not be related, but last spring, a local woman crashed her car and died. An autopsy showed her blood sugar bottomed out -- she was diabetic -- and she passed out behind the wheel."
"Freak accident doesn't usually lead to crazy spirit," argued Dean with his mouth full.
Sam ignored him. "Her obituary says she was an angakkuq, an Inuit holy woman or maybe shaman. Could be she woke up something she shouldn't have. Maybe even what killed her."
"But why wait months to start grabbing kids?" asked Dean, sticking a ridiculously amount of fries into his mouth. Sam regarded him indulgently. Even while acting like he had no manners whatsoever, Dean was a fine, logical hunter.
"I don't know. But I also don't know what took the kids or where to look, so this is my first lead, even if it's flimsy. I say we go check out her house tonight. It's on the first lake in the chain." Sam took a bite of his own burger at Dean's not so subtle gestures.
"Her house? Nobody else lives there by now?"
"Nope." Sam smiled and delivered the key information. "Her will said for her house and all its contents be burned without anybody going inside. It's still stuck in a legal fight."
"So how far away is this house?"
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
Dean was swearing softly as they trudged through the snow up the small bluff that Nukilik Olanna's house sat on. Sam agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. The wind had died down, but the air was so cold it was hard to take a full breath, much less break a trail through the deep snow, uphill. Without their new gear, they'd have literally been in danger of freezing to death.
Even if it had been plowed, they wouldn't have dared to bring the Impala any closer. She might be a wonderful machine, but she was lousy in the snow.
The little house was dark and had an air of abandonment, even if the snowed over road and driveway hadn't given that away.
Sam had to take off his gloves to pick the lock and even though it only took a minute, his fingers ached with cold by the time he was done.
Inside was at least as cold as outside. The little kitchen offered no clues, but even as Sam shone his flashlight around, Dean called out from off to the left. "Oh, man. Found a book that looks like bad news." Sam flicked his light over to see Dean reaching for a reddish book. "This looks like a gri --"
As Dean's hand closed on the book, symbols Sam hadn't noticed on the cover suddenly glowed brightly. Dean arched back on a strangled groan. He trembled and looked like every muscle in his body had seized.
Supernatural trap, warned Sam's mind. He knew, vaguely, that he should use something inorganic to knock the book out of Dean's hand. That it could be dangerous to touch him. But the bigger part of his mind already had his body in motion, unable to be rational with Dean in danger, in pain right in front of him.
Sam hit Dean with his shoulder and had time to register that, yup, it even felt like electrical current and holy shit that hurt.
He never felt them hit the floor.
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AN: See, finally some action. And oops, a cliffie. *steeples fingers and laughs evilly*
An angakkuq is an Inuit medicine man or woman. (hint, hint)
Jenjoremy: No spoilers! But the good news is...no bodies, right? Maybe...
Lena: It's because I have such fabulous readers that I don't want to put out a meh story if I can help it! And I'm glad to see your posts...I was halfway through an email to you to ask if all was okay. I am so sorry for your poor daughter. My kids were devastated a while back when one of our cats died. (Honestly, I was a mess myself.) Hugs to all of you and I'm so glad you're "here" with me in this one! It wouldn't be the same without you.
Scealai: Those wonderful Winchesters always save the day! Well, in my stories anyway. But I haven't messed with them enough yet...
Kat: I just loved giving Dean a chance to drive a police SUV! I feel like he'd love it! I also love what you said about him enjoying the chance to be childish sometimes. And lots more Weechester moments on the way...I'm glad you don't find it extraneous or unnecessary.
Shazza: I know the hints have been few and far between so far, but I feel like the next chapter will add quite a bit of information.
immertreu: I have a sister who used to be called "Ms. Independent," and now she has a kid of her own like that! I'm glad that you're intrigued and it was so fun to have Dean drive a police car.
printandpolish: I feel for him too! I agree she was right on about Dean, and I do love giving him opportunities to be childlike.
Timelady66: I drove a rear wheel drive monster (1983 Caprice) for six west Michigan winters...not fun! And it's a good thing I love you with all the plot bunnies you let go! LOL
Blondie: I know, right? Poor guy is trying so hard but totally out of his depth.