Some chapters run action fast and some others go turtle speed... I apologize if I bore you sometimes. When this fanfic is finally finished, I'll probably cut several parts out of it to make it shorter.
Opinions on useless paragraphs/dialogues/scenes are welcome...
Chapter 42
Donning his FBI suit and with Alex borrowing the most classic attire they could find in Becky's closet that fit her properly, Sam showed their fake badges to the receptionist and were allowed into the office building.
"Tell me immediately if you catch any vibe of the Virtue key, ok?" Sam instructed while walking the hallways.
"Sure," Alex nodded. "I'd too like to find it before the dot turns purple."
"If it does we deal with it, that's not what I'm worried about. Adam is alone taking care of Becky, but we don't know yet what's after her."
"The EMF reading came out blank, so it's not a vengeful spirit. Maybe a poltergeist that has latched onto her?" the nurse suggested. "Manifesting all that water out of nowhere takes a lot of ectoplasm."
"It's a possibility, yes..." the hunter accepted, but unconvinced. "But considering that three of Becky's therapy partners were killed on the night of their due call, I'm more inclined to think that something's fishy with their therapist."
Sadly, after knocking twice on the door without response and allowing themselves inside, they found the office empty. Just in case, Sam took out his EMF device and ran a scan, but it came out clean again. Hanging on the wall there were several diplomas of varying accomplishments, along with a sepia picture of who they guessed was Dr. Eunice. The mature woman looked quite anodyne and unsuspecting, though in a very Ally McBeal style.
"Afraid it's time to rummage through her garbage, not literally," Sam sighed disappointedly, bringing out his picklock. "I'll open the file cabinet, you take a look at Gareth Stuart's and Marion Susan's folders and tell me if there's anything of interest there. I'll search other clues around."
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When Jessica entered the library that morning after cleaning the breakfast dishes, she found Eileen already nose-deep into a mountain of books, researching in the company of Kevin. The prophet, with big headphones on his head, was once again working on the Angel and Demon Tablets after been made aware of the existence of more such items, but so far no new knowledge had been achieved.
"Hey, Kevin," the blonde greeted him when he took off the headphones, also waving a hand under the huntress' face to let her know of her presence. "How's it going?"
"Not very good. I'm checking all of the translations and notes I had written down on these two, but it's not like they're going to suddenly rewrite themselves and tell us something new. I have nothing about the Reaper Tablet or any other." The boy stretched up his arms, popping a couple of knots in his back before putting his headphones back on. "I wish Eileen gets luckier with her own research."
"What are you researching about?" Jessica tapped the other female on the wrist and made her question.
"Sam asked us to help a bit, but Dean is busy down in the shooting range, practicing with the kids. I don't think he'll be able to convince Julia to hold a gun, though," Eileen answered. "Sam needs info about creatures related to water."
Jessica felt a pang of hurt, but schooled her features and attempted not to show it. She chastised herself for her childishness. It wasn't anything personal, naturally. Of course Sam would ask Dean and Eileen for help instead of her, they were hunters after all. They had a much better grasp on this than she probably ever could.
"Jess? Do you want to help me?"
For a moment, she was tempted to say no. Because as much as she liked to study, she was also getting tired of doing nothing else but research and research. But well... not like there was a ton other things to do around. And denying any help she could provide, no matter how meagre, would be despicable.
"Sure, I'll help what I can," Jessica sighed, pulling out a chair and taking one of the books. "Let's hope that at least this one ends better than all our wasted time in the shedim."
"Oh, about that..." Eileen hesitated a second. "What don't you track it down when it breaks out of Gabriel's pocket reality and use the Colt on it? I've been thinking about it. The Colt can beat almost anything, it might stand a chance."
"The Colt was severely damaged by Dagon, didn't you know?" the blonde informed her, guessing by the bemusement painted on the huntress' face that she, effectively, hadn't known about that. "Yes, she pretty much melted it useless. Not even Rowena knew very well what to do with it, she's not that reliable concerning weapons. But anyway, even if the Colt were available, Legion is another kind of monster altogether. A normal gun worked good enough when Dean fired at it, but the problem lies in how many it's formed of."
Eileen was quiet for a minute, the gears in her head rolling. It stood to reason that a custom-made weapon needed a pretty much custom-made repair, so to speak. But a special gun like the Colt, which nobody was completely sure how had even been created... Perhaps it was time to look on it a bit more thoroughly.
"I might have an idea. I know of someone... but I don't think the brothers are going to like it."
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Investigating the office brought nothing useful into the case, much to Sam's chagrin. Everything about the psychiatrist looked legit, as clean as it could be; maybe even a little too clean in the hunter's opinion, because c'mon... dealing with unstable people on regular basis was doomed to cause some kind of incident sooner or later (like it happened on their one-session-therapy with Mia Vallens). For whatever reason, Alex had taken personal offence to this.
"Not everyone is a nut case worthy of a mental ward, Sam!" she had snapped at him. "Many patients are just people dealing with grief or stress that need someone to listen to them for a moment. I assure you, the emotional relief that provides couldn't compete with Prozac."
Needless to say, the Winchester apologized to the nurse, since that hadn't been at all what he meant.
Back at Becky's, she had spent the morning teaching Adam how to make waffles in the very same iron that Dean once gifted her after marrying Sam; the boy was now positive that he and his future half-sister-in-law could make an awesome baking team. Later, in the afternoon, when they were discussing further plans, an unexpected visitor knocked on the door.
"Rod?" Becky uttered nervously after barely opening a bit. "What are you doing here?"
"Hum... visiting my girlfriend?" the man answered, puzzled by why that would be such an extraordinary circumstance. "I was worried, Becky. Your phone keeps sending me to voicemail since days ago, and your co-worker told me you took free the rest of the week."
"Yes, well..." she stuttered, unsure of what to say, fidgeting on the spot.
The man identified as Rod frowned slightly, noticing that something was off.
"Is everything alright, Becky? Are you in trouble?" he spoke gently in a soothing tone, but when he attempted to step inside the apartment, the blonde immediately stood in his path. "You've been acting different since New Year, Becky. You... you're avoiding me, you've bared your apartment almost to the bones, and you're even wearing the turtleneck my mother knitted you last Christmas despite saying that it was itchy."
"It... it was a well-intentioned gift, Rod. Kinda mean from me if I don't wear it at least once."
The sound of steps behind Becky alerted the man that there was someone else inside, right before Sam appeared next to her in a protective stance.
"Becky, are you ok?"
The woman very clearly grimaced, pressing her eyes and lips closed for a couple of seconds, being faced with the situation she had wanted to avoid. Rod looked befuddled at Sam from head to toe, not sure how to react.
"Sorry, I... I didn't notice you had a friend over." He glanced at Becky, but still extended his hand politely to the other man. "My name's Rod, nice to meet you."
"Uh, likewise. I'm Sam."
"Sam?" Rod repeated, his eyebrows arching up in surprise. "The Sam? Sam Winchester, your ex-husband?"
"Sam, please, go back inside with the teens," Becky asked him, placing her left hand on his chest to give a small push. "Everything's fine, don't worry."
The hunter hesitated for a second, awkwardly looking at the other man, but obeyed. The atmosphere was tense and heavy between the two remaining adults.
"You're not wearing your ring," Rod muttered, deep sadness evident in his voice as she hid her hand behind herself, ashamed.
"Look, Rod, I..."
"If it's too soon for you, if... if I was too eager proposing on Christmas Eve... you can tell me, Becky!" the man almost pleaded. "It doesn't have to be now, we can wait as much as you need. I just want to understand what's happening."
"I need some time to think things through," the blonde said, feeling her voice a bit hoarse and her eyes tearing up. "Please, go."
"... Ok, if that's what you want. I'll leave now," Rod acquiesced in defeat, his shoulders slumping. "When you're ready to talk again, I'll be waiting. Because I love you, Becky."
When her boyfriend left, Becky closed the door and rested her forehead on it for a minute, feeling herself shaking to the very core. Why, just why it had to be this way? Her legs trembling, she turned around and slid down until sitting on the carpeted floor. When her sobs threatened to overwhelm her, Becky hid her face on her raised knees and cried as quietly as she could, not wanting to alert again the three guests in her living room.
She found easy to cry these days. The water never seemed to stop.
Becky thought about Walter, her adored brother, who had saved her from drowning in the river when they were little. She thought about her school mates, laughing at her for the Sesame Street bag she liked so much, despite being already older than the intended audience. She thought about her first almost-boyfriend in high school, who had called her a loser after lifting her skirt for the first time and seeing her Ghostbusters panties. She thought about Miriam, her college roommate, who had lit fire to her Elsa poster from Frozen alongside half of her other belongings, because Becky had borrowed her MP3 without asking and accidentally broke it.
And, more recently, Becky thought about Rod. Caring, smiling Rod, who was probably the sweetest Y chromosome to ever walk the Earth. A man in his thirties who wasn't ashamed to play around with her like they were still kids. A man who had cried watching A troll in Central Park. A man who had agreed to cosplay Hansel and Gretel with her, from the witch hunters movie, and had wanted to jump her bones despite her frame not being nearly as voluptuous as the actress in it. A man whose mother had knitted an itchy turtleneck for her.
But for some reason, she didn't think about Sam. And the water kept pouring from her eyes.
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Contrary to popular belief and/or expectations, Naomi was actually pleased when she arrived at her commandant office and saw Castiel waiting there, as Duma had informed her of. Because, since the last time they had spoken to each other, not only had their Holy Father made himself heard again (even if through a deceased prophet) but also the only non-psychotic archangel in existence had returned home at last. Yes, she had great features to be grateful for.
"Gabriel's return has endowed Heaven with a very much needed stability," she smiled serenely. "Even if our situation remains dire, considering our dwindled numbers, having an archangel's presence among us has at least taken off the edge of impending crumbling. As long as he remains here, we'll be able to manage. You have done a great service to Heaven, Castiel. Thank you."
"No thanks are warranted, since... this development has not been due to my interference. And you likely know it, Naomi," the seraph looked intently at her, his eyes full of pity. "Gabriel came back only after Kali's dismissal of him."
"I'm aware of that fact, yes," she admitted, sighing. "I expected Gabriel to take the reins of Heaven in my place, but so far, he has been closed off in his cloud. Unreachable, even unplugged from angel radio. If I were to make an assessment, I would say that he is... humanly depressed."
"His feelings have been hurt," Castiel explained, trying to make her understand. "But I surmise the significance of that is beyond your comprehension."
"Do not be offensive, Castiel," Naomi replied, irked, leaning back on her chair. "I may not condone human behaviour, but I have studied it extensively for millennia. After all, don't forget who was in charge of erasing all signs of it in angels... or you. I've learned from my mistakes."
"Have you really?" the rebel warrior doubted, squinting his eyes. "Does that mean you don't believe me defective anymore?"
"Oh, Castiel..." Naomi smiled again, beatifically this time. "Of course you're a defective angel. Always was, always will. The difference," she reached a hand to hold one of his, an uncharacteristic tender gesture, "is that I don't think anymore it's something needing to be fixed."
The seraph stared at her, stunned, his eyes wide open. Had those words actually left her mouth?
"I'm only a standard angel, Castiel," she continued, trying to convey her thoughts. "The currently caretaker of Heaven, yes, but still a mere angel. I certainly cannot fathom what God was thinking when he created you, but either he made you different on purpose for some unknown reason, or you were an accident that he didn't deem necessary to repair. In any case, I accept now that you're exactly like you're supposed to be, for the best and the worst. There it's the difference."
There was a minute or two of warm silence, Castiel left speechless after Naomi's admittance. From someone who had tortured him so much in the past due to his human empathy, he never expected such words to ever be said.
"Now, since you're here, may I know the reason behind this visit?" Naomi asked, regaining her professional posture.
"Yes, my apologies. I had to ask Balthazar to bring me along, since all of Heaven's gates are still closed," Castiel squared his shoulders, readying himself to ask the favour he was there for. "Jack is feeling down after his last encounter with the shedim, which indirectly caused Gabriel's arrival. I would like him to be allowed visitation rights to Kelly Kline's piece of Heaven, please. I am sure that she could offer him the words of encouragement that I find myself short of. I know that it would meant a lot to Jack to be able to finally meet his mother, without the risk of being enslaved."
The moment that the nephilim's name was pronounced, Naomi's features lost their calming quality and became tense, more so when Castiel mentioned the mother. Crossing her fingers over the table, she considered how best to deliver the information that apparently the dark-haired angel was not aware of. A straight-to-the-point approach was her choice.
"Castiel, rest assured that no harm or enslavement shall befall the nephilim if he ever decides to visit Heaven. Whatever help he might offer us, will only be taken with his full consent," she spoke gravely. "However, you're sorely mistaken about the other point of your request, since Kelly Kline's soul is definitely not here."
For the second time in a matter of minutes, the seraph was rendered speechless. How... how it could be? Kelly had been an amazing woman, honest and hardworking, loving and selfless to a fault. There's no way her soul could have gone to anywhere but Heaven.
"No, it's not possible," he denied. "She must be here, Naomi!"
"I promise you, she's not," the caretaker insisted. "Castiel, this isn't going to sound in our favour, but you know how desperate we are. If we had ever had such a bargain tool with the nephilim as his mother's soul, be sure that we would have used it."
Now, that was something he could certainly believe.
"When the nephilim was born, all the remaining angels and myself waited for hours in the edge of the Veil, but no reaper ever came. Not with that particular soul, I mean. I even talked personally to Billie the very next day, and she herself couldn't tell me where Kelly Kline was. The reaper in charge of retrieving her soul returned empty-handed."
"How can a soul get lost just like that?" Castiel asked perplexed, when suddenly something else poked at his brain. "What about other lost souls, where could they have disappeared to? Dean and Sam told me that the first time they died, a friend named Ash couldn't find their parents' souls in Heaven. Did you ever reach them?"
Naomi sighed deeply, shaking her head.
"This is preposterous," the male angel grumbled. "Those souls have to be somewhere!"
"Definitely," she agreed. "The problem is, we don't know where that 'somewhere' is. Sorry, Castiel."
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"Are you sure this is going to work?"
Night had fallen again, and Becky's rescue party had done its best to ensure her safety. There was salt lining the doors and windows, demon traps hidden in strategic places, and sigils drew on walls that Becky would need to repaint if she made it alive. Not only that, but there were even small symbols painted on her own skin.
"Sadly, no. We can't know, since we haven't figured out yet for sure what's threatening you," Sam answered apologetically. "But given the clues, I'm suspecting a baku that has run amok. Bakus are Japanese creatures that feed on nightmares, but to attack you like this in your sleep and manifesting so strongly... it's a bit of a wild card, sorry."
The blonde was nervous and afraid, looking doubtfully at the wannabe camp they had settled in her living room. Becky's blanket and pillow were in the middle of a circle created by the sheets of the other three, all of them placed inside a protective sigil sprayed on the carpet. She'll need to wash that too.
"We'll protect you, Miss Rosen," Alex tried to comfort her. "We'll be here all through the night, right beside you. Let's go to sleep, Sam will keep watch."
So to sleep they went.
Hours passed slowly and peacefully, the hunter fighting yawns from time to time. Despite being in a capitol city, the nightly noises were quite subdued, thanks to the apartment being in the seventh floor. He could faintly hear the breathing sounds of his asleep companions, a calming tempo. A neighbour flushing the toilet. A cat meowing in the distance...
Suddenly Sam opened his eyes with a jolt, all his hunting instincts on alert. Had he fallen asleep? He could swear it had only been a few minutes since he leaned his head on the sofa cushion, but now something had startled him. There was a dripping sound, like a faucet leaking, or the soft murmur of a brook. Sitting straight again, Sam reached for his gun and put his other hand on the floor to stand up... only to take it back as he felt the water, like touching a puddle.
"Adam, Alex," he called quietly. "Wake up! Something going on."
The two teenagers grumbled a protest, but upon Sam's insistence they hastily roused from sleep.
"What the..." Adam stuttered the moment he too touched the wet floor.
"Miss Rosen?" Alex called her, hurrying to turn on the foot lamp but receiving no response. "Oh my God!"
As light bathed the living room, the three of them stood aghast as an actual river seemed to flow through the room all around their protective circle, with no discerning start or end. Just like inside a washing machine, a perpetual cycle of water that reached almost to their waist. And in the very centre of it, lying defenseless on her blanket, Becky was choking her lungs on water.
"Becky!" Sam shouted her name, putting his weapon away and reaching to grab her shoulders, carefully shaking her body. "Dammit, Becky, wake up!"
"Sam, her neck!" Adam pointed out.
The hunter looked, and couldn't refrain his confusion. While this time Becky's hands remained down and weak, there was something invisible clearly putting pressure on her flesh, on the same fan-shape that had marked her with fingertips. Not knowing what else to do, Sam placed his own hands on the pressured points to try and shove away whatever was attacking the poor woman.
The second he did, everything changed.
The apartment disappeared, the night melted away, and instead they found themselves in a forest landscape next to a raging river in the morning light. Becky shuddered violently in Sam's hands, releasing from his grasp and retching water with great effort.
"What... what happened?" Alex asked flabbergasted, looking around but kneeling down to help the woman to breathe. "Where are...?"
"YOU, DISRESPECTFUL MEDDLING ANTS!" a terrible shriek pierced the air.
With a gust of wind strong enough to splash cold water in all directions, a fearsome creature launched itself at them. It had the body of a bird, with wings and sharp claws, but the upper chest and head of a woman. Her eyes were big, white and cold as ice.
"How do you dare interfering in the punishment of this wretched soul? Bow down and ask for forgiveness if you wish me to spare your lives!"
Out of instinct, Sam's reaction was to pull out his gun again and fire it at the flying monster... only to watch the bullet go through it instead of landing. He attempted a second shot, giving it the benefit of doubt of perhaps missing the first, but again it had no effect.
"Becky!" he called out to the blonde, his sight focused on the bird creature. "Becky, are you ok? Can you tell me why the hell does a harpy want to kill you? What punishment is she talking about?"
"I... I don't know," Becky answered, trembling in Alex's arms and sobbing pitifully. "This place... this place is where Walter saved me from drowning when we were children. I haven't been back in years, but recently I've seen it constantly in my nightmares. I don't understand why we're here."
"Oh, you don't understand?" the harpy cooed at her, her voice strangely beautiful and almost caring. "Is it really so difficult for you to think about someone besides yourself? Your older brother saved you, he risked his life for yours, but you let him die by demon's hands. How does that sound to you? Does it sound fair? Tell me, Becky: why is he dead while you're alive?"
"Hey, do not listen to her," Adam spoke sternly. "Things doesn't work like that. Saving a sibling's life is an act of love, not a simple trading coupon."
At his words, the Winchester looked guiltily at the younger boy, pain written on his face. This didn't go unnoticed by the harpy.
"I sense that this poor lady isn't the only one deserving punishment here," she shrieked again, launching down with her claws ready and capturing the hunter, bringing him up to her face. "Do tell me, human: how many things is your heart to blame for?"
"SAM!" the two teenagers shouted in fear.
In their panic at seeing the man in danger, they let go of Becky, trying to sort the rocks in the riverbed in an attempt to get closer to him. But the harpy was not to be fooled with.
"I see it, I taste it. The blood that stains your hands, and the screams of those you didn't save. The people you failed... oh, yes. Clear as the light of day! The brother you betrayed, and the brother you left to be whisked away. The lovers you abandoned to their death, the father you disappointed, and the soulmate you ignored. My, such delicious guilt you hold!"
Being in such close distance, Sam raised his gun again and attempted a third shot. Once more to no avail, the bullet getting lost in the air, but this apparent sign of disrespect greatly angered the harpy. With a displeased sound, she threw him back against the trees, the force of the impact almost knocking him out.
"You two," the flying creature addressed the two youngsters. "Do not bother me while I carry out my duty, and I might be merciful. Just keep out the way!"
Another gust of wind sent Adam on his knees, but he managed to regain his balance enough to remain on a rock. The nurse, however, wasn't so lucky: she had been further in the middle of the raging river, with nowhere to secure her footing. With a resounding splash, she fell on the water.
"Alex!" the Milligan boy immediately started to run towards her as much as the slippery riverbed allowed him, before realizing how useless it was. "Alex, hold on!"
Without a second thought, he ducked into the water as well and began swimming.
"And now that all interferences had been dealt with, let's continue where we left," the bird monster chuckled wickedly, landing barely a few metres away from her victim. "Becky, oh Becky. Aren't you happy? You're going to redeem yourself in front of the person you claimed to love, and yet hurt so much. Have you ever stopped to think, even for a second, how much he must hate you?"
Shaking and crying as she was, there wasn't much Becky could do to help herself or the others, and she knew it. She was going to die, just like the people in high school cruelly told her to do. Probably it would make Miriam happy too, wherever she was now. And Sam... she was too coward to even think about it.
With a last deep sigh, Becky closed her eyes and resigned to her fate.
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