Chapter 3- Demon's Blood

Monday dawned bright and early for Sam, who, in an attempt to regain a sense of normalcy, turned to exercise. Up until finals week, which now felt like ages ago, he'd been consistent when it came to his exercise, and his runs in particular. It was one of his few holdovers from training and he'd taken to it with far more gusto than Dean ever had. Dean said it was because of his long legs, but Sam personally felt he just had more patience for it.

Warming up took a little longer, and the first mile felt strange after having gone without running for so long, but soon Sam felt as if he was flying through Lawrence, which was just beginning to stir from its nightly slumber. Auras from the night faded as the daytime ones began to wake, but they all blurred into a river of barely registered color as he ran a familiar route through East Center. Early morning was a time when the auras were at their least muddy due to the lack of citizens, and Sam enjoyed the brief bursts of color that stood out long enough for him to notice.

People's auras were always the brightest, but in a city like Lawrence, places began to take on their own auras from the constant stream of citizens that passed through them. A library would have a different concentration of color compared to a doctor's office, and so on. It wasn't usually evident, but during his runs, Sam was always able to distinguish between the buildings in this particular way. He passed an apartment building, a café, and an electronics store all without looking at their signs; knowing instinctively which atmosphere corresponded to what kind of building. It brought to mind the comfortable steel blues of the Roadhouse, and Sam felt a pang of loss.

He wasn't really sure what he was going to do now that the Roadhouse was gone. From what he recalled of the fire, there probably wasn't much left of it, if there was anything left at all. Sam had no doubt that Ellen would rebuild; she was too tough not to, but that would take months, which was time he didn't have.

Gabe's offer of financial support came back to him, but Sam pushed it away forcefully. It went against everything he was to accept charity like that. What direction would their relationship take if he did take Gabe up on his offer? Money always complicated things (he'd learned that from Jess), and he didn't want it to potentially tarnish what he had with Gabe by bringing it into the equation.

And what is it exactly that you have with Gabe?

Sam wasn't familiar with the feeling, as things with Jess had been very straightforward in the beginning, but he was smart enough to know he was in a relationship limbo right now. Not quite friends, but not quite at the dating stage yet. Back when he'd lived on campus, it had been a common sight and one that his friends complained about constantly. Things got dicey in what was labeled the 'talking' stage; things either fizzled out, or took off, and one misstep could send the relationship teetering back into 'friend' status. Sam had thought they were all insane to put themselves through such a thing (because he and Jess had simply been the pinnacle of perfect relationships), but now that he was in the midst of it, he suddenly understood why everyone had been so confused and frustrated.

Who would make the first move? Who was supposed to make the first move? Should they even be doing anything about it right now? They were pretty busy right now (crime fighting was time-consuming), but that didn't necessarily mean that they should put everything to a screeching halt, right? How fast should they go in the beginning? How far?

Judging by the cherry red Sam was seeing more and more in Gabe's aura (or probably noticing more and more; he had ignored it like a bonehead), he could say with certainty that the P.I wanted to do quite a few things with him that people who were simply didn't do. There was no way he was interpreting that red incorrectly, not when it was usually combined with a cocky smirk or a heated golden gaze.

Sam was lucky there was a park with a public water fountain up ahead. His face was burning now, and not from running.

The cold water felt like a slap against his skin, with the frigid morning air adding an extra bite that had him tossing his head like a horse. Just because it was March didn't mean a thing to Lawrence; it was only marginally warmer today, and Sam knew that it'd remain chilly for a while more.

He didn't linger for long, not wanting to lose the pace he'd set while running. Besides, there was only so much time to think running gave him, and he had some more thoughts to filter through. The park's pale green and earthy tones slipped away as Sam took off once more, chasing the sunrise that was staining the sky pink.

Sam had only ever been with Jess. He'd never really given it much thought, but now that he'd moved on from her, it was proving to be a little bit of a problem. After he'd broken up with her, he'd never gotten back in the game like Dean had suggested, mainly because that simply wasn't how he liked to do things. One-night stands, for various reasons, just weren't for him.

He could tell that, unlike him, Gabe was more than comfortable with them. Sam wasn't sure how many people he'd hooked up with in Lawrence (it certainly wasn't a question of if he had), but he was sure he had. Gabe was flirtatious, with a largely nomadic nature, no desire for long term anything, and with enough looks and wit to woo anyone into a little fun for a night. It would be idiotic to assume otherwise, which only made Sam confused because it seemed when it came to him, the P.I acted a bit differently.

Gabe seemed more…patient when it came to him. Maybe he was just pinning his hopes on a one-night stand of epic proportions (and that was enough to get his face burning again), but Sam didn't think so. He'd made a few allusions to sticking around in Lawrence longer than he had anywhere else, and Gabe seemed to enjoy their work partnership too much to throw it all away on a passionate whim. He might try to push some more boundaries now that Sam wasn't so blind to what was happening between them, but when it came down to it, Sam didn't think Gabe wanted just one night with him.

Which is good, because I don't want only one night with him either.

However, not having just the one-night stand implied that there'd be more nights, which was where Sam found himself balking. While he may not hurt anymore at the mere thought of Jess and what they'd once been, he could recall the shitstorm their break up had been with a clarity only traumatic events could imprint on the mind. He didn't think he'd ever binge ate so much food before, and the restraining order…

Sam grimaced. Lisa had had to practically hold his hand through that whole process, and he didn't think he'd ever seen Dean so quietly angry before. Quiet anger wasn't rare for Dean; his brother got all sorts of angry, but despite all the crap he'd been dragged through when it came to Jess, Sam still genuinely worried for her in that period, because Dean had seethed. And when Dean seethed, people got hurt.

The point was that Jess had really messed him up. He'd dated her for years and had been convinced that she was the one. They had been high school sweethearts, and she had (supposedly) loved him just as much as he'd loved her. Breaking up with her had proven to Sam that even the most perfect, long term relationships could end in a nasty mess, and he was sure he'd always carry that with him. A long-term relationship didn't guarantee success, so why should he put himself out there?

I don't do one-night stands, but I'm also hesitant to face commitment, Sam thought before snorting, And yet I want to do something with Gabe. What a conundrum.

It was a conundrum that couldn't be solved by one morning run. He was nearing the edge of East Center, where the cityscape gave way to the suburban neighborhoods that defined the eastern outskirts of Lawrence, and he had to go to college today. Going any further meant he'd be potentially late for classes, and this week Sam wanted to give his education a fair shot.

He stood on a street corner and took a moment to take in the approaching sunrise. More and more people were beginning their day, and Sam knew the streets on the way back would be more crowded, but right now, he had this little corner to himself.

Pink gave way to a soft blue as dawn fully took over the sky, and Sam lingered for a moment longer before turning back, his resolve strengthened.

…

LU, for lack of a better word, was quiet.

The chatter on campus was much more subdued, and a somberness permeated the air. Usually, Sam disregarded LU's atmosphere, as there were too many shifting colors to keep track off, not to mention the sheer size of the campus, but he was sure he wasn't imagining the blue-green tint to everything. It was much different from last week when everyone was practically exploding with gossip and rumors about the murders.

Now students were wary, the macabre interest that had come with the shock of Reynolds untimely end giving way to a very real and growing fear of the killer. He'd already struck on campus twice, and while they didn't know it, 3 out of his 4 victims had had some sort of connection to LU. The WM was still closed, which only served as a reminder of what the killer had gotten away with. It was only logical that they were beginning to wonder if he would strike again at LU.

They're paranoid too. They're all moving in clusters. Scared of what they don't know because the killer could be one of us.

Sam could feel the strange looks he was getting, as he was one of the few people walking alone that wasn't a cop (and that was another thing; the number of cops had increased significantly). The paranoia started with one and spread to the others, with all of the auras feeding off each other until the clusters of people were sufficiently wound up. It was all very mild; barely enough for Sam to notice if he wasn't looking, but if Death continued to strike on campus, that could easily change.

He had no doubt the killer was one of them. His identity may have still been a mystery, but deep down, Sam knew Death was here somewhere. Maybe he was going to classes, blending in with the thousands of other students, or maybe he was watching the trickle-down effects of his handiwork from a dark corner, feeding off of the growing fear like the paranoia feeding off of itself within the student body.

Sam shivered as he thought of the dark, disgusting aura that belonged to the killer. He'd be able to sense it if Death really was here, but that was only if their paths crossed. Considering how big LU was, it might not even happen, and a part of him hoped that it remained so. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do if he did run into Death.

Get out of his way, Sam thought, thinking of the surreal, clairvoyant dreams he'd had featuring the killer. He could still remember the way the killer had looked at him in the well with no face, trying to figure out who he was as his aura stood out like sin against the washed-out environment.

If he was a lesser person or hadn't grown up with training, Sam probably would've jumped at every shadow and darted to class like a skittish deer like many of the students were doing. He was a Winchester though, and Sam wouldn't let the killer's crimes draw such cowardly responses out of him. So, he walked with confidence and hoped that maybe he did a little something to ease the nervous tension in the air.

Lectures slipped by in a weird haze. Sam was simultaneously listening to his professors while watching auras, something that he normally didn't do during class. The paranoia had followed people in though, and he was dismayed to find that many people were too nervous or scared to properly focus; their auras haunted by varying shades of blue-green. Class discussions were muted, not extremely so, but enough that Sam, who was watching out for it, noticed.

It's worse than I thought. Another death could really be the tipping point for LU.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, providing a welcome distraction from any more thoughts of LU's decline into paranoia. Sam hoped it was Gabe, or maybe Dean, but was instead greeted with a text notification from Kevin of all people.

Kev: Meet me in the gazebo by WM after class. U left your lunch dork.

Sam frowned. The text itself would've been completely innocuous if it weren't for the fact that he hadn't forgotten his lunch at all.

It was clear Kevin wanted to meet for other reasons, but why not just come out and say it? Was whatever it was so sensitive that he couldn't risk mentioning anything over the phone? When had he even gotten a new phone?

Probably Mrs. Tran. But he did have a run in with the Dead Eyes, and he's been much more cautious lately anyway.

That would explain why Kevin was being so cryptic, but why he wanted to meet was a mystery. He had been at home when Gabe had dropped him off yesterday but had left shortly after, and he hadn't been back when Sam had gone for his morning run. There had been signs he'd dropped by when Sam returned to get ready for college, but Kevin himself hadn't been there.

Only one way to find out.

Sam sent back a quick affirmative and sat through the rest of the class as patiently as he could. Anyone looking at him would've noticed the near silent rap of his fingers against his books as the only sign of impatience.

It was only a little warmer outside by the time Sam was freed from the lecture hall. Worming his way towards the center of campus was easier than usual, as everyone seemed to be avoiding the looming silhouette of WM like the plague. Sam couldn't blame them. The blue-green tint seemed to be a little darker as he approached the closed library, and there was something off about it, as if it the fresh taint of the crime that happened within was stubbornly sticking to it. Maybe it was the events that happened within changing his perception of the library, but Sam found himself wondering if the killer's aura would jump out at him as it did at Cork's crime scene.

Castiel's words of corrupted rituals and the ways Enochian could be twisted to mean things they shouldn't came back to him, and Sam couldn't help but shiver a bit. He wished he could just disregard it as superstitious nonsense, but he'd been sleepwalking (and seeing future things he shouldn't be) too much to do that now.

The gazebo Kevin was referring to was one of many such places that littered campus. It helped break up the monotony of lecture halls and libraries and provided resting places along the walking paths that stretched on for what seemed like forever, not to mention alternate meeting places. It wasn't just gazebos, but the closest 'resting spot' to WM was a small white one surrounded by hedges and plants that flowered in spring.

Spring was still far off though, so there was nothing but the steady green of basic shrubbery and the dried branches of plants that wouldn't flower for some time yet. Kevin was hunched over on one of the benches with his back to the blustery wind, but it wasn't just him. Sam tensed for a brief moment at the sight of someone blond by his side before he took in the familiar pale shades of blue and gray.

"You didn't mention Adam," he said as he strolled up the short set of stairs, causing Kevin to jolt. Adam barely flinched, but his face was hesitant as he stood.

"Sam," he said, nodding his head slightly, "Kevin said you were working on the case."

Sam looked at Kevin, who looked back with unreadable eyes. His aura wasn't nearly as unreadable though; the greens were a little muted and tinted heavily with paranoia, but it was much better than the pale, wispy thing it'd been when he'd burst into their apartment after the run of his life. He was paler than Sam would've liked though, and the dark circles beneath his eyes were still pronounced.

"He deserves to know what's going on," Kevin said quietly, the stubborn streak in his aura blazing dark green for a moment.

Adam shifted on his feet, his aura a rippling mass of hesitancy and burning curiosity, and Sam sighed imperceptibly before biting his lip.

Kevin was right; if anyone deserved to know a little of what was going on, it was Adam. However, there were things that they didn't need to know, not when they were still young and had some remnants of innocence (he wasn't deluded enough to believe it had remained undamaged by their encounter with the killer). Both of them could be unbearably stubborn when they wanted to be, and Sam knew that if he didn't tell them something, they might take it upon themselves to seek information out. Kevin was already trying to save people from falling into gangs after all, and Adam had a compassionate streak a mile wide. Useful for the medical field, but absolutely awful to deal with in the current situation, not to mention his moments of boldness. Not too many people were willing to face a killer with a pocketknife after all.

Sure, they're young, but I'm only a couple years older. They can handle a few things.

The part of him that wanted to spare them the details was overpowered by the purely Winchester bit that abhorred ignorance in dangerous situations. Sam wasn't sure what to make of it but shoved aside his moral dilemma for another time.

"You didn't hear it from me," he warned, to which the pair nodded with identical somber expressions. Their auras gave away their excitement, and Sam rolled his eyes before sitting down with them.

"The LPD has no idea where this dude is?" Adam asked.

"Nope."

"What about you?" Kevin asked shrewdly, and Sam eyed him for a moment.

"No," he said after a few seconds, "What makes you think we would be?"

"We?" Adam asked, confused.

Kevin shrugged casually, clasping his hands primly in his lap, "You've got enough brains to out beat all their detectives, and so does Gabe. You're ahead of them in some kind of manner."

"Who's Gabe?"

Sam pondered Kevin's words as he explained to Adam who Gabe was. While he could acknowledge that Gabe definitely had the LPD beat when it came to who could solve crime best (Gabe was far cleverer and craftier than people gave him credit for), Sam didn't think the same could be said for him. Could it?

Well, lawyers and law enforcement go hand in hand. Maybe I have my own sort of techniques.

"We're following different leads than them right now," he finally decided to say, "Whether or not they'll pan out is another story."

"They probably will. I've got a gut feeling about it," Adam proclaimed.

"You and your gut feelings," Kevin sighed with an eye roll, "Do you think he'll strike on campus again?"

"It's 50/50," Sam replied honestly, "I'm sure you've both heard about Mitchell by this point."

They both nodded, with Kevin grumbling darkly under his breath about the 'useless principal'. His mutterings reminded Sam of the discussion he and Gabe had had yesterday.

"Did you ever go talk to Mitchell himself about the gang issues?" he asked his old friend curiously. If he had, then it gave credence to the theory that the killer had.

"I mentioned something last year when I still went there and wasn't too involved in it yet. He said he'd 'handle it', but that was a load of crock," Kevin responded with air quotes that had Adam snorting by his side, "Things just got worse."

"And you?" Sam asked, referring to the blond, "Any gang-related experiences? What are things like at Southview right now?"

Adam ran a hand through his hair and grimaced, "Well, I live near good old Kingsford, so that's about all I can say on that, but things at Southview are crazy right now. The school just about descended into anarchy when we went back on Friday."

"One half of the school was mourning Mitchell, and the other was gleeful about his demise, and neither of them was holding back from expressing it," Kevin explained quietly as a haunted look descended on Adam's face, "Fights broke out everywhere, and the LPD had to be called in. My friends are saying they arrested at least a dozen people, but I'm not sure how many because the numbers are all over the place."

"I'll find out," Sam said, making a note to ask Gabe about it. It seemed the atmosphere at Southview was just as charged as the one here on campus, albeit in a different way, "Your friends…how have things been going for you on that front?"

He'd been meaning to ask ever since his suspicions about Kevin's side activities had formed, but there never seemed to be enough time to do so. Now was as good a time as any, especially since Sam had a feeling there wouldn't be another opportunity to talk to Kevin like this for a while.

Kevin pressed his lips together and shrugged, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. He suddenly looked very tired and old, and Sam felt a strange sense of déjà vu as he realized that his longtime friend looked much as he did just a few years ago, when he was struggling to break away from his family and make it to college.

He's just 17. Teenagers shouldn't look like this.

"I've helped some, and lost some," he said frankly, "Up until the killings started, I had more losses. The Dead Eyes were getting bigger and recruiting to keep up the rep they were building."

"Up until the killings?"

Kevin nodded, the ghost of a smile gracing his pale face. His aura swirled a bit but didn't pale to match his complexion.

"The Dead Eyes are so focused on the killer that they've been slacking in their recruiting process. They're…not so charming anymore when they talk to people, and people are sensing that they could potentially slip in the gang hierarchy. But if we're being honest, I don't think any of the gangs are really focused on recruiting anymore."

Sam arched a questioning eyebrow, and he bit his lip before reaching into his jacket and pulling out an envelope.

"I don't know much about it, but our mutual friend does," Kevin said cryptically, "It's why I got you to come all the way out here. They're very paranoid right now, and with good reason. However, they believe you're the best person to receive this information, and I agree."

Sam blinked as Kevin handed the innocent looking envelope to him with an air of importance and an expression bordering on skittish.

"I…all right, I think?" he said, tucking the envelope away before Kevin could hiss at him to put it away (he certainly seemed a second away from doing so). Adam was pointedly looking away, and his aura suggested that while he suspected something, he wasn't going to say anything.

That was just how Adam was. He was inherently good at keeping secrets and minding his own business. He even knew a few things about Sam (no one but the two of them knew of the bird that had spooked Sam into knocking over a trashcan at Southview back in the old days). Even if he didn't have a bit of a rep for being good at keeping mum, Sam knew that Kevin wouldn't have given him the envelope in his presence if he didn't trust Adam.

"Good," Kevin said, his shoulders slumping in a release of tension, "Is there anything else you can tell us that you think might be important?"

There were a lot of things Sam could've said, but with all the connections and clues and possible leads swirling around in his head (the mysterious letter certainly didn't help at all), it'd take him ages to figure out what to say.

"Watch your backs," he said instead, deciding to be succinct and a bit ominous if that's what it took to keep them from poking their noses in too deep. Sam didn't want them getting any more involved than they were, "I think this guy goes here, and he knows his way around. I don't think he'll target either of you, but that doesn't mean you're safe either. Leave it to the cops."

"And you," Adam quipped, a faint smile on his face, "Sorry to say it, but I have a lot more faith in you and your P.I buddy Gabe than the LPD."

"I don't think 'buddy' is the right term. Try partner," Kevin said in a knowing tone as he elbowed his friend.

They snickered as Sam narrowed his eyes (why were they laughing like that?), and Kevin grinned before hopping to his feet.

"We shouldn't linger," he explained, "We'll see you around Sam. Our mutual friend implied this won't be the last of our correspondence."

Sam nodded his understanding, and the two younger boys left. Their auras left wisps of color in the gazebo but quickly faded into undecipherable shades of blue and green and gray that the wind blew away.

The letter practically burned in his pocket, but Sam waited until he'd walked a sufficient way away in his own separate direction before pulling it out. He took shelter under the overhanging of a side entrance before pulling out the envelope, which fluttered in the wind.

Something curled around the edge of the envelope, so pale and flimsy that Sam almost didn't notice it. The aura was there though; a pale tendril of violet that had faded to nearly gray.

Meg?

He opened the letter and had his suspicions confirmed.

S.W,

I'm writing this cause I'm too paranoid to call or text. Even less enthused about the idea of a face to face right now, not when the Dead Eyes could track either one of us down. They haven't tried to get me since the Roadhouse, but I get the feeling that's only because they think I'm either in the hospital or dead, and I'm not about to correct that assumption.

There's a new drug coming to Lawrence. Potent shit, and when I mean potent, I mean potent. Not sure what it is, but it's unlike anything I've ever heard of. Apparently it affects people in different ways, but there are some common effects. It can make people very angry, very strong and fast at their peaks, and hallucinate. It's incredibly addictive, and lethal in large enough doses. I can't find the official name, but people have been giving it their own nicknames. The most popular one right now is demon's blood.

No one knows where it's coming from exactly, but it's definitely not coming from the Dead Eyes. Too complicated for them, but they do want to sell it. It's why they're so crazy about the Crucifier; he's making them look weak at a time when they want to look strong so they can get their hands on some demon's blood.

It's also why they burned down the Roadhouse. Kyle did it to get back at me, and to make the Dead Eyes look tough, but it was also to hide the trace of demon's blood. Remember Gordon? I'm convinced he got his hands on some of it, which is why he was aggressive and out of it the night of that crazy bar brawl. Where he got it from is a mystery, but the means aren't beyond him.

This drug is set to hit the streets soon; sometime before the summer for sure. I don't know who's running the operation, but whoever it is has to have some kind of street cred, because they have all the big dogs practically begging for a share of demon's blood.

Burn this letter when you've finished reading it. Our messenger will continue to bring these whenever I get the chance to write one, or if I learn something new. If we do meet, it'll be on my own terms. Right now, laying low is my best option.

-M

Even if he hadn't had the initials and the faded aura to tell him, Sam thought he would've recognized it to be from Meg by the handwriting. Years of taking orders had familiarized him with the odd mesh of cursive and print she liked to call writing.

Sam tucked the letter into his jacket pocket for safekeeping before pulling out his phone. Meg had given him some important information, and more than a few puzzle pieces were falling into place.

That's why Gordon was so erratic that night, and why maybe the killer is too, Sam thought as dialed a now familiar number. Gordon's aura and the killer's weren't nearly on the same level, but they both were emotionally off the charts; Gordon with what Sam now knew as drug-induced rage, and the killer with...

Something else. More than just homicidal tendencies; he's like evil incarnated.

It seemed unlikely that the Crucifier would take drugs if he hated gangs so much, but if it really did give people what was, in essence, a super boost, then it wasn't too hard to believe that the Crucifier could've justified the use for it in his head. It would've made him fast enough to outrun Sam, strong enough to set up his elaborate crime scenes, and maybe even mad enough to begin killing in the first place.

"Sam?"

"Hey Gabe," he said, now striding towards the center of campus. He already had a destination in mind and hoped that the P.I would be willing to meet him, "How busy are you right now?"

"Nothing that can't wait," Gabe said slowly before his tone grew serious, "What's the matter?"

"Just learned something interesting," Sam said hastily before Gabe could grow concerned, "Meet me at the Starbucks by campus? I can't say why over the phone, but it'll be worth your time."

There was a pause as if Gabe was trying to figure out how serious it could be if it couldn't be mentioned over the phone.

"You're always worth my time, but all right, I'm on my way. You better not be in trouble or anything," he grumbled, and Sam's lips quirked.

"When do I ever get in trouble?"

"I won't even deem that with a response, joking or otherwise!"

They hung up shortly after that, leaving Sam to walk alone. He didn't mind though and hardly cared about the fact that their meeting couldn't be too long if he wanted to make it to his afternoon class. Classes suddenly seemed to pale in comparison to the new turn the case had taken.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This has gone up a lot later than I wanted it to, but I was hit with quite a few things at once in April. First my allergies (gotta love pollen), and then spring break, which was cut short by the removal of my wisdom teeth. I did not do well with the gas they gave me, and anesthesia was an...intriguing experience. I've also been busy with my art portfolio, which has been going meh for me. this isn't my first rodeo run, but I do want to hurry up and get it over with.

Enough of that though. I've returned with a largely mediocre transitional chapter, but it does contain some goodies. Demon's blood will be an important concept, and a few things have been set up here for further development later!

Also just wanna say that it's now been a little over a year since I first began posting fanfiction. Boy does time fly!