Chapter 11: Dream Team
The subway ride to LU was one of the most peaceful rides Sam had been on. It was downright uncharacteristic for the train to be so quiet, but as they got closer and closer to LU, the cars just kept getting emptier and emptier.
Sam observed the phenomenon from his seat, arms wrapped around the backpack on his lap. The few people on board kept to themselves, their individual auras subdued or drawn into themselves as they eyed each other warily, or pointedly looked at no one at all. Sam got some looks himself despite his attempt to look as nonthreatening as possible. It was, however, a fairly impossible task when he was over 6 ft tall and made the seats look like they were built for children.
He barely paid the passengers any mind anyway. Sam's curiosity was practically eating him up from the inside over where the case could possibly be leading them now. All Gabe would say over the phone was that pursuing this particular lead would require some discussion before they did anything.
That had thrown Sam for a loop, as the P.I had sounded deadly serious when he'd explained that they could get in a lot of trouble for checking this out.
"We could get in deep shit for this Sam, so when we talk it over and you don't want to get involved, I'll completely understand."
Sam had tried to say that his family history of crime-fighting hadn't exactly left him a saint and that'd he'd do just about anything for him at this point, but Gabe had continued on before he could get a word in and told him to meet him at their Starbucks.
It was probably for the best anyway. Sam wasn't sure what the P.I would make of such a sappy statement from him, and he didn't want to say something like that over the phone when it should be said in person.
The streets weren't empty when Sam emerged from the underground, but they might as well have been. Sidewalks that were usually filled with scores of rushing college students and regular Lawrence citizens just trying to make their way through LU territory were now barren. A few students that most likely lived in the on-campus dorms were out and about, but that was about it.
People are starting to get that this guy isn't going to stop anytime soon, he thought as he entered the Starbucks, Good thing I'm not living in the dorms anymore. They're probably freaking out over there right now.
Gabe was sitting at what Sam now thought of as their table, the sun bringing out the blond in his hair and making his aura shine even brighter. There was a strange, tense edge to it that Sam couldn't decipher, but overall the P.I looked good.
Actually, he looked really good. Sam had developed a preference for the black jacket Gabe was wearing a while back, and with that black shirt underneath…
It's like he's trying to kill me.
"Please tell me you haven't had too much sugar today," he remarked as he walked up. There was a ginormous cup sitting in front of Gabe, and it was nearly empty.
"I couldn't refuse when Donna got it for me, so blame all of my jittery actions after this cup on her," he responded, getting up with a smile.
Sam was confused for a brief moment before Gabe hug-tackled him, wrapping his arms and aura around his middle. He managed to get an arm around Gabe's shoulders and squeeze (you should've expected that by now, Winchester) before the P.I pulled back, sitting down just as quickly as he'd gotten up.
"Drink up. We got a lot to discuss," Gabe said, gesturing to the steaming cup in front of him.
Sam took the drink and sipped at it, studying the P.I and his aura. That tense edge he'd spotted earlier flared up a bit, the color wild and struggling against the typical golds and pastels. Sam had never seen anything like it before in Gabe's aura, and it concerned him enough that he had to ask.
"Gabe…are you ok?"
Gabe's bright face crumpled a bit, the smile he'd had upon seeing him slipping a bit.
"Don't tell me you can tell too. For God's sake, I'm not going anywhere," he grumbled, jabbing at the bottom of his cup with the straw.
Sam wasn't 100% sure what Gabe was referring too, but he hadn't gotten a full ride to LU because he had a pretty face. It only took him a moment for him to combine the man's aura, his jiggling leg beneath the table, and his drifting gaze outside to where his Beetle was parked to form a conclusion that he really didn't like.
His hands squeezed into fists as his stomach dropped. Sam bit his lip, chewing the already chapped skin raw before he decided that they had to address this before anything else.
"You thinking of leaving?"
Gabe's eyes flew back to his face, wide and surprised before his mouth set into a hard line.
"No! I've thought of it-Jesus, Sam, I can't help it," he said harshly, splaying his hands on the table, "I'm a runner. Always have been. And I've been in Lawrence for a long time by my standards, and sometimes I just…get the urge to pack up shop and leave."
"It's not because of what I told you yesterday, is it?" Sam asked, his voice much smaller than he wanted it to be.
"No. It has nothing to do with that," Gabe said, nearly knocking over his cup in his haste to grasp his hands, "You could never scare me away with anything you told me."
Sam wasn't sure if that sentiment would stretch to cover the other aspects of him that he hadn't told Gabe yet, but he could tell that through his frustration, he was wholly sincere.
And that's good enough for me, he thought, something inside him easing as he saw the sentiment reflected in the man's still struggle filled aura.
"I get it," he murmured, rubbing his thumbs over the back of Gabe's hands, "It's hard to try to change the way you live."
Gabe's eyes fixed on their hands, his brow creasing as he slowly flipped their hands over so he could lace their fingers together.
"I'm not leaving," he declared. Sam thought he said it just as much for himself as he had for his benefit, "I don't-I don't plan on leaving you. And the case. I never leave a case unsolved you know."
He spoke quickly, but Saw had seen the mini-explosion of white in Gabe's aura when he'd said that he wouldn't leave him and reveled in it.
"I know," he beamed, "You're braver than you think, Gabe. And too stubborn to quit when the going gets rough."
"It's like you and Jody are mind linked or something!" the P.I exclaimed, pulling away to gesticulate as he spoke, "She said something similar to me not even an hour ago!"
With that, Gabe launched into recounting what he'd done that morning in more detail, focusing on what Hoffman had told him. Sam was shocked to learn that not only did the master list exist but that it was much more detailed and carefully maintained than the gossipmongers could've ever imagined.
"You know, Olsen had been working there for almost fifteen years," Sam remarked, still trying to wrap his mind around the sheer scale of the list, "If she really kept records from the time she started…there has to be thousands of names on that list."
"But that's the kicker, Sammo! For our purposes, we only need to look through the most recent names," Gabe said with a wicked glint in his eyes.
Sam cocked his head, momentarily confused before he managed to comprehend what the P.I was implying.
"The killer's probably on that list," he said slowly, eyes widening as Gabe smiled triumphantly, "Holy crap, of course, he is! That's the main reason why all three of them were targeted. They must've kicked him out, and he got angry!"
"Bingo, Sam-a-lam. One flash drive was recovered by the LPD, and the other is still in the air, but at this point is probably in The Crucifier's hands," Gabe said, counting them off on one hand. "And then there's Hoffman's flash drive. It's in the WM right now, and the only people that know besides him is you and me."
"You want to retrieve it."
It wasn't a question; it was a statement and a neutral one at that. Sam understood now what Gabe had meant when he said that they had to discuss this.
Gabe nodded, and took a deep breath to no doubt launch into a speech that would probably go something along the lines of "I'd appreciate your help with this but if you don't want to break into a crime scene then that's perfectly ok and I'll do it on my own."
Maybe it was because he'd trusted Gabe with so much yesterday, or maybe because he had woken up feeling more comfortable in his own skin than he had in months, but Sam didn't need to hear it.
"I'll help you," he said, holding up a hand before Gabe could even start, "And before you say it's illegal and dangerous, I'm well aware and I'm willing to take the risk. It's not like I haven't done anything like this before."
Gabe blinked owlishly, and Sam smiled at the cute expression before shrugging casually.
"I've broken into crime scenes before. Keeping the streets clean wasn't always running around rooftops and fighting thieves in back alleys."
Sam thought his explanation was perfectly alright now that Gabe knew how he'd grown up, but he was completely taken aback by the shades of orange and red anger that flickered to life in Gabe's aura. The only outer reaction that reflected this was the short, sharp exhale from his flared nostrils.
"I hate how normal you make it sound," the P.I said with a wan smile that showed he wasn't mad at Sam, but rather at what he'd lived through, "But you have a point. If I'm going to do this with anyone, it's gotta be you."
"Well, duh. That's what partners are for, right?"
"I suppose they are," Gabe mused playfully, "But are you sure? This is pretty serious."
"I know, and I'm sure," Sam assured.
And, for once, Sam really was sure right off the bat. Yes, he could get arrested and kicked out of LU for this if he was caught, but they wouldn't get caught. He'd done this before, and he and Gabe worked together far too well for there to be any slip-ups on their part.
Perhaps a normal person would be more hesitant, or just flat out deny Gabe's request, but after yesterday, Sam didn't feel the need to question things when it came to Gabe. He'd proven that he could be trusted with some of the dark, bad bits of his life that he harbored, so Sam would trust Gabe back. His trust was hard-earned, but he didn't have the deep-seated trust issues Dean had, so Sam was confident that the initial trust he'd given Gabe a couple of weeks back hadn't been misplaced.
Gabe looked at him for a long moment with a gaze so piercing that Sam had to remind himself that the man couldn't see auras. He looked back just as steadily, hoping that his resolve to follow through on this lead with the P.I showed through his eyes.
It must have, because Gabe grinned, clearly satisfied with whatever he'd seen.
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"
…
The plan Sam created was based on a tried and true method that he'd learned from his father. Background figures that were supposed to be in the place that a crime had been committed were largely ignored by the police, so all they had to do was disguise themselves as workers and slip in and out. Simple, straightforward, and effective. Sam had no doubt that the core of the plan would work in this setting too, no matter how hot the WM crime scene was at the moment.
Of course, all plans are perfect when created, but not nearly as infallible when executed. It also didn't help that Sam was breaking into a crime scene with Gabriel Milton.
"I know I have mustaches around here somewhere," Gabe muttered as he rummaged through the backseat of the Beetle, "Which mustache do you think I should use, Sammy?"
The sole reason Sam didn't automatically negate the use of the dreaded nickname was because the current view he had of Gabe's ass was stellar. He'd had taken glances every now and then, but he'd never really gotten a chance to look without interruption before.
"Whichever one you find first," he replied distractedly, foot-tapping rhythmically against the asphalt as he ran through the problems they'd already encountered.
Originally, they were both going to disguise themselves as janitors and sneak in that way. However, upon breaking into one of the nearby staff rooms to check out what the uniforms looked like, they'd discovered that none of the brown, one-piece suits were big enough for Sam. They'd spent ten minutes looking for the spare uniforms, and upon finally locating them in a large box on a shelf that had been a downright bitch to find, discovered that the spares only went up to a certain size that was far below what Sam needed.
In hindsight, Sam should've anticipated that it might've been a problem, but it still irked him that apparently all of the janitors were below 6 feet. Did they just not hire people that couldn't fit into the uniforms they had?
Gabe had had a field day with the discovery until Sam had modified the plan so that he'd hide in a janitor's cart that Gabe would push around. The P.I had begun to squawk and complain that there was no way he'd be able to push a 'gargantuan man of muscle' around until Sam buttered up his ego a bit.
"I think you can do it," Sam said, letting his eyes trail suggestively over Gabe's torso, "You're pretty fit."
The complaining stuttered to a stop, replaced by a reddening Gabe who rubbed his arms awkwardly.
"I-er, I mean, I guess you have a point…"
"There's no need to be modest," Sam chided, smiling slowly as he let his gaze rest on Gabe's biceps, "I know exactly what you're hiding underneath that jacket. It'll be a piece of cake for you."
Gabe practically preened as his aura turned towards pleased, pastel lemon shades.
"Yeah…yeah, I got this," he said, clearing his throat and smirking. The brash, confident look he was going for was ruined by his still red cheeks, but Sam wisely kept quiet about how cute the attempt was as Gabe began to brag about his physique.
"Got one!" Gabe exclaimed, straightening up (much to Sam's disappointment) and brandishing what looked like a chunk from a very bristly hairbrush.
"You can't be serious," Sam said incredulously as the P.I carefully smoothed the thick, black mustache onto his face. It was the fakest mustache he'd ever seen, right down to the slight curl at the ends.
Gabe, of course, had the nerve to twirl the ends of the mustache and grin at him. The sight was so unnerving that Sam couldn't even come up with the words to chastise him on the poor disguise.
"I think this one's one of my better ones," he said, still grinning, "I've got this really horrendous ginger one I had to wear when I worked this insane case in Tallahassee, but that's a whole other story."
"It…" Sam started, furrowing his brow before finally coming up with something to say, "It doesn't even match your hair."
What was supposed to be a devastating blow to the longevity of the mustache on Gabe's face was deflected by Gabe's waggling eyebrows and the magical appearance of a jar in his hands.
"Magical hair gunk to darken my hair," he explained, sticking the jar onto the roof of the Beetle before turning to rummage once more through the back, "And something else…"
Flabbergasted didn't even begin to cover Sam's emotional range at the absurd situation unfolding before him. Gabe's aura showed that he wasn't kidding around in the slightest beyond the ingrained color Sam had long associated with the jokester aspect of his personality, which meant he was serious.
Oh. My. God.
"Found them! I've also got contacts," Gabe grunted, wiggling himself out from the backseat.
Sam enjoyed that particular motion too much to joke the P.I on the ridiculousness of the wiggle. All he could do was stare as Gabe shook the little box with a proud, happy smile.
I can't even say anything when he looks like that, he thought with a groan, This is absolutely ridiculous, but what the hell?
"You'll be unrecognizable," Sam said gravely.
Gabe beamed, and Sam decided that it didn't matter how silly the whole thing was when it put that sort of smile on Gabe's face.
"Alright, now I just have to get ready and then it's go-time!" the P.I said eagerly, gathering all of his goods in his arms and kicking the door shut in an impressive display of flexibility.
It occurred to Sam that he was looking at Gabe a lot today and that it wasn't exactly innocent looking. However, Gabe looked at him all the time, so it was alright to take some looks back, as long as they just remained looks for the time being.
"Don't get too eager yet. I haven't even explained the whole plan!" Sam said, quick to rein in Gabe's excitement as they began to walk through the parking garage they'd chosen. The car was just too recognizable to park anywhere on LU, so Sam had directed him to either stick it in a garage or park at least five blocks away from campus.
"Well, talk to me Sam-a-lam!"
Sam tsked before shrugging off his backpack and unzipping it, tugging at Gabe's elbow to get him to stop.
"First, you can give that stuff to me," he said practically, waiting until the P.I dumped everything inside with a pout before continuing, "And second, take that mustache off."
Gabe gasped, looking the most affronted Sam had seen him yet. He only rolled his eyes at the P.I's indignation and reached over to (carefully; he wasn't an asshole) peel the mustache off.
"You can't walk around with it before you're fully disguised, dumbass," he said, hating how fond he sounded as he tugged Gabe's shirt collar down enough to stick the mustache inside and out of sight. He did it as quickly as possible but still found himself lingering on the shadowed curve of his collar bone and the glint of an unknown charm on the thin cord of a previously unseen necklace.
Gabe's aura shone like a beacon in the gloom of the garage, tendrils of it skidding across his forearms in a playful, warm touch that beckoned him closer just as his eyes did.
Sam shoved down the sudden surge of desire that had raced up and tried to seize him whole, and let his fingers linger for only a second longer before he cleared his throat and pulled Gabe's collar back up into its rightful place.
"So it doesn't lose its stickiness," he explained lamely, gesturing at Gabe's chest.
"It's a very sticky mustache," Gabe replied quietly, but it didn't sound like he was complaining about Sam's poorly thought out action at all.
Still, Sam did his best to keep his hands to himself as they trekked through campus. Just because Gabe hadn't minded it didn't mean that he should just thoughtlessly encroach into his personal space like that, and besides, they had work to do. Sam couldn't afford to be distracted when the plan relied so much on him being able to do half of the more specialized skills he hadn't utilized in nearly two years.
Well, for starters, you should probably explain the plan to him, Winchester.
"Right," Sam muttered, tugging on his fringe as he realized that they'd been walking in awkward silence for a few minutes at this point instead of discussing the plan. He needed to get his head into the game.
"What was that, kiddo?"
"Nothing. You ready to break into the only building in Lawrence to fall victim to a serial killer's crimes twice?"
Gabe snorted with amusement, and just like that, the tension that had formed between them dissipated.
"I never thought of it like that," he mused, "That library's going to be cursed as hell when all this is over with. But I'm ready if you are!"
He threw down the challenge like a gauntlet, and Sam rose to the occasion with gusto. It felt like it'd been forever since he'd seen Gabe like this: cocky, joking, and a little arrogant. He hadn't paid much attention to why he'd liked this side of Gabe back when they first met, but Sam could kick himself now for not realizing that he was into Gabe sooner. He'd always enjoyed a challenge.
"I'm always ready," he said with a crooked smile that he'd been told made him look ready for a fight, "I am going to have to stretch before we go in though. It's been a while, and I don't want to pull a muscle."
Gabe faltered, confusion coloring his aura, and Sam's smile widened. The P.I was probably going to flip once he heard the full plan.
"Alright, so we've established that you'll disguise yourself as a janitor, and I'll hide in the cart. You won't break character, and I won't make a peep."
"Yup," Gabe said impatiently, practically vibrating by his side.
"Just checking!" Sam exclaimed, smothering a laugh, "Now, here comes the good bit. You'll roll me in on the cart to the second floor; third works too in a pinch. All you have to do is get me to the railing, and I'll climb down to the main circulation desk-"
"Why am I already not liking this plan?" the P.I interjected, aura already turning orange.
"I've scaled larger distances before," Sam assured, "And I'm good at it. Typically, I'd have a rope, but I've done it without one plenty of times."
"That doesn't make me feel better! Not even a harness system and a- hell, I don't know, a fucking parkour expert could make me feel better about this! What if you fall, and your brains go splat everywhere? That's a waste of a good brain right there!"
Gabe was getting himself worked up faster than Sam had anticipated, his hands waving this way and that as his aura alternated between outraged and concerned for his safety. On any other occasion, he would've let Gabe go on until he ran out of steam, but Sam sensed that this method wasn't what he needed right now.
Sam reached a hand over to smooth his thumb over the creases in Gabe's brow, effectively silencing the man if only for a moment. The only reason he'd let himself do it was because he'd done it several times at this point and the motion was now as familiar as a back-pounding hug with Dean or a tiny fist bump with Ben when he accomplished something tough.
"Remember that chase when I cleared the gap between the roofs?"
Gabe nodded reluctantly, harrumphing as he crossed his arms.
"I can't even count the number of heart attacks I had that night," he grumbled, but Sam saw that he was beginning to understand the point when his aura softened slightly, "You…were very impressive in that chase."
"If I can run around on rooftops, I can handle this easy peasy," Sam pointed out.
After a moment's thought, Gabe ran his hands over his face and through his hair, disrupting the carefully swept-back strands.
"Ughhhhhh. Fine! I can't believe I'm going along with this, but fine," he said, giving in with a dramatic flop of his arms to his side.
Sam smiled triumphantly, and they started walking and talking animatedly again, getting caught up in the thrill of what they were about to do.
Their preparation spot was the building closest to the library, which happened to be a science building Sam wasn't very familiar with. All he knew was that it held a bunch of laboratories, which meant that it was bound to have a large janitor's closet.
Sneaking in was as simple as just walking in with Sam's student ID. Just because they had canceled class didn't mean that all the buildings were closed, as some professors were no doubt keeping their office hours going. LU was no doubt getting some flak for not completely shutting down the campus, but it was a big place, and Sam knew that the administration hated going into complete shutdown mode.
Today, it worked in their favor, and finding the largest janitor's closet in the building was child's play. The layout of the building was similar enough to other buildings Sam was more familiar with, and they were even lucky enough to have a bathroom in the same hall.
"Moustache time!" Gabe said gleefully, and Sam rolled his eyes before critically examining the cart situation before him.
It was a decent-sized cart; similar to the ones used for rolling large amounts of laundry around in a hotel. The cart was divided in half, leaving a large space that had a lid in the front for miscellaneous items and the back for the usual broom, mop, etc. The back was covered with a curtain, and upon lifting it, Sam saw that they'd gotten really lucky. For whatever reason, the divider only went down halfway, and the back half of the cart covered by a curtain only had a lip about six inches high to keep the cleaning products sitting in the bottom from spilling out. If he sat with his back pressed to the front and his legs squeezed through the gap, he'd fit.
"Now we're talking," Sam said with a grin as he began to clear out the bottom of the cart. It was pretty dirty, but it wasn't the worst place he'd hidden in before. A hotel laundry he'd hidden in once had definitely been worse than this.
"Has your beautiful brain found a solution to the cart issue? Cause that looks pretty tiny for you to be hopping into."
Sam glanced up at Gabe, ready to retort with a sassy affirmative, and had to swallow back an automatic exclamation of surprise.
The man had already combed through his hair with the mysterious temporary hair dye, making it nearly pitch black. He was also halfway dressed, with his legs in the uniform and only his shirt left on top, exposing part of the ouroboros tattoo on his arm. Without the mustache, Gabe actually looked sort of hot like this, and when he turned his face, the sentiment was only cemented for Sam. His eyes stood out even more with the added contrast of his hair, made pale by the bathroom's stark lighting.
"Uh, yeah. I figured it out," Sam replied, entranced by the new version of Gabe standing before him, "Do you use that stuff often?"
Gabe tilted his head in thought as he pulled the mustache out from his shirt and applied it to his face.
"Depends. I did more so back when I was first starting out and did more usual P.I work. Stuff like tracking missing people or getting shots of cheating partners. It's easy for me to make my hair darker than anything else," he said, turning back towards the mirror and striking a silly pose with the mustache.
Sam made a strained noise of acknowledgment before sticking his head back into the cart, willing his flaming cheeks to hurry up and cool off.
It should be illegal for him to use that stuff, he thought frantically as he shoved his backpack into the cart, He has no right to look that good!
To help take his mind off of Gabe's appearance, Sam began to stretch out a bit. Luckily, keeping up with a semi-regular exercise routine hadn't taken all his flexibility away, so he managed to loosen up quickly as Gabe completed the final touches of his disguise.
"That's…actually pretty good," Sam commented once Gabe was all done. The P.I had put in dark contacts, and all together, he looked different enough that at first glance, it was hard to say if he was Gabe or not. People that were more familiar with him would see through it with prolonged study, but for their situation, it worked.
"Disguises are probably the best part about being a P.I. They're really corny and cliché, but you'd be surprised at how effective they can be," Gabe said, twirling his mustache one last time before shoving his hands into the suit's pockets, "The average person doesn't look very hard at someone they're just passing by."
He was right. People's gazes tended to slide by those they didn't know when they were out and about, or someone they weren't talking to for long. Of course, no matter how much Sam tried to play at being average, he operated differently. Auras naturally drew his attention in and held it, leading him to notice far more than he wanted to about strangers.
"Ready to get into the cart?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," Sam said, wrinkling his nose as he peered into the interior of the cart. He'd need a shower once they'd successfully completed this hare-brained escapade.
Gabe watched patiently (and a bit eagerly what with all that cherry red in his aura) as Sam stripped down to just his T-shirt and jeans. He even removed his shoes and socks, explaining that it'd give him better traction.
"I'll pay for a pedicure once we're done with all this. I don't even want to think about the germs you're collecting on your feet right now," Gabe remarked, holding the cart steady so Sam could clamber in.
Sam went in legs first, sliding them through the gap in the divider before folding them up as best as he could. Then he settled in with his back pressed in one corner of the front, hunching his shoulders and sliding down until he was settled in as best as possible. It wasn't as tight a squeeze as he thought it'd be, but he'd definitely have a crick in his neck tomorrow morning.
Gabe's face appeared above him, arms resting on the edge of the cart as he smiled down. His new appearance made it a little harder to read his face, but his aura told Sam that he was both surprised and very amused.
"I'm impressed by your flexibility. For a second I didn't think it'd be possible."
"It pays to be limber," Sam said before something occurred to him, "Crap! Can you go through my bag and pull something out for me before we go?"
The item in question was a hairband. Lisa had given him a pack jokingly a while back when she'd noticed he'd stopped getting haircuts, but Sam had found that they were pretty effective at keeping his fringe back. If he was going to be scaling walls, he'd rather have it back and out of his face.
"There, that's better," Sam mumbled as he tied his hair back, uncaring that he probably looked stupid with a tiny ponytail sprouting upward from his head, "Gabe?"
He looked up to see the P.I staring at him before he reached out a hand and gently bopped his ponytail.
"That's fucking adorable," he declared.
Sam's face turned red enough to rival a tomato. He wasn't adorable; he was a grown man!
"Hurry up and shut the lid," he grumbled, hiding his face in his arms.
Gabe chuckled but did as he asked. A second later, Sam was immersed in darkness that was only broken by the slices of light that came in between the gaps where the curtain didn't quite reach by his feet.
Here goes nothing.
The cart ride was quite possibly one of the worst things Sam had ever experienced. He could feel every bump and dip in the sidewalk once Gabe got outside, and the cart was drafty. He was sore and cold before they'd even gotten halfway to the library, and he voiced his displeasure while he still had the chance.
"My neck hurts."
Gabe's voice was muffled, but still audible over the constant rumbling of the wheels.
"I know, kiddo."
"It's cold. My feet are going to be blocks of ice by the time we get there."
"I'll get you warmed back up in my car once we're done."
Sam paused. He had to admit, that sounded nice, so he ceased his whining (he wasn't a whiner, but he felt like it was alright to do it with the P.I) until they hit a particularly rough patch and Sam banged his head against the cart.
"Shit. Sorry kiddo, this thing's got a bum wheel," Gabe hissed, and Sam groaned in response.
"You owe me food after this," he said, rubbing his temple. It wasn't the worst head injury in the world, but he'd need aspirin for the headache he was sure to have.
"Anything you want, kiddo."
Sam grunted in response, but settled down for the rest of the ride, soothed by Gabe's words. The cart dampened how much of his aura he could sense, but Sam could tell that the P.I was being sincere.
"Almost there," Gabe said after a few minutes, and Sam braced himself as the cart was rolled up an incline. It was a long enough incline that he knew that Gabe had gone around to the back just like he'd told him to, as the back-service entrance had a large ramp. The WM library was one of the few buildings this deep into campus with such a thing.
Sam heard the jingle of the keys they'd taken from the janitor's staffroom. Logically, they should work on the service entrances, but Sam couldn't be sure. If push came to shove, he figured either of them could pick the lock. Gabe had informed him that he was a good lock picker, and Sam didn't doubt him for a second.
"How's it going?" he asked after a long minute of key fumbling, daring to peek his head past the lid a bit.
"Not so good, but then there's like twenty keys on this ring," Gabe said, clearly irritated as he flicked through the keys.
"Well, take your time, but not too much time."
Gabe turned to glare at him, making it clear that his (admittedly useless) encouragement wasn't welcome.
"Andddddd I'll just keep my mouth shut," Sam said, retreating back into the cart as Gabe began to mutter dangerously under his breath.
Less than a minute later, they were in, rolling along on much more even flooring. Sam kept quiet as they turned left and right, trusting that Gabe was navigating them in the correct direction. All he could tell from within the cart was when they went from carpeted sections to tile.
"So far so good," Gabe whispered, barely audible above an automated ding. They had already reached the back elevator.
"Is there really no one here?" Sam asked once the doors slid shut.
"Nobody so far," the P.I replied, "I think we got lucky and they've just finished processing everything. Everyone's always eager to skedaddle when that's over and done with."
"We might just pull this off," Sam muttered incredulously as the doors dinged open.
"Not might. Will!" Gabe said confidently as they rolled out onto what Sam was sure was the second floor.
After a solid minute of travel, Sam felt the cart nudge against what felt like a railing before stopping. The jingle of the keys moving away let him know that Gabe was scouting the floor, so he settled in to wait patiently.
Sam had to admit, he was feeling more eager than nervous about retrieving this flash drive. He hadn't done anything daring in a long time before the case, and a larger part of him that he'd expected relished putting the skills he'd let gather dust to use. It was like a part of himself he'd nearly forgotten was waking up, stretching in the sun and getting ready to go.
He'd purposefully shoved it down when he'd left for college, but now that Sam was applying it to the case, it didn't feel as much as a burden as it had before. It felt more natural and comfortable putting them to use like this, because in his head, Sam was just helping a good friend out. It was an overly simplified way of looking at it all, but it worked for him.
It also helped that for the first time, Sam was beginning to separate what he knew from the past he avoided like the plague. Gabe had helped him realize that just because he was trained like Batman didn't mean that it automatically made him the person John had tried to forge him into; Sam could apply the skills he had to whatever he wanted. He'd subconsciously done it whenever he broke up fights at the Roadhouse, and he could do it consciously here and now.
And maybe this is the way I can utilize them the best. By hiding in a cart and making sure Gabe doesn't get himself arrested by stubbornly chasing leads.
Sam snorted quietly to himself. All the chases he'd taken part in the past couple of weeks should've been ample warning for today's current events.
Gabe returned sooner than he expected, and his aura was so excited and adrenaline-filled that Sam could sense it from a considerable distance away even through the cart.
"The universe is just pouring blessings onto us today, Sammo," he whispered gleefully, flipping the lid open, "Everyone's gone! It's just the guys guarding the front entrance, and their backs are turned."
"Really? How much time do you think that leaves us?" Sam asked as he extricated himself from the cart. Gabe had to hold it steady again, but luckily none of his overly long limbs got stuck on the way out.
"Not much. Maybe twenty minutes tops. Someone's bound to come back in…Sam?"
The aura hit Sam first as soon as he'd gotten both of his feet on the ground. It lingered in the air just beyond the balcony, rising up like plumes of faded smoke towards the vaulted ceiling above. The strength of it had diluted with time, but Sam could make out the remnants of monstrous tendrils curling through the air.
Then the smell of stale blood slammed him straight in the back of his throat, and Sam couldn't help but look over the balcony's edge.
A giant ritual circle had been formed in the foyer, starting at the entrance and encompassing the desk and much of the area behind it in an inhumanely even circle. The inside of the circle didn't contain a stereotypical star however; the shape looked something akin to a wonky pentagram that was intricately decorated with Enochian runes of all sorts. In the middle of the circle, which happened to be about five feet or so right of the main desk, was a chalk outline of a body with outstretched arms and splayed legs, each limb pointing to what looked like main conglomerates of symbols.
Sam's head swam just looking at it. The Enochian symbols weren't moving nearly as much as they had the other day when he'd sleepwalked, but they were giving him a very bad vibe that he didn't want to get near. Even the yellow crime scene markers looked hesitantly placed as if the CSI unit hadn't wanted to get too close either.
No wonder Gabe hadn't come in that night. This reeks of evil.
Warmth seeped into his skin, seeming to soften the callouses on his fingers as Gabe took his hand.
"You don't have to do this," he said quietly.
Sam took a deep breath and squeezed Gabe's hand. He wished for a moment that Gabe wasn't wearing those contacts so he could see truly see his eyes, but he'd just have to settle for this.
"Winchesters don't back out. It's one of our top 10 rules," he said in a weak attempt at a joke, "Got the gloves?"
Gabe gazed at him for a long moment, aura swirling in a manner so complicated that it'd take Sam much longer then they had to try and figure out what was going on within it.
"Be careful," the P.I finally said, pulling out a pair of latex gloves from one of the janitor suit's pockets.
Sam stuck them in his own back pocket for later use. They'd get in the way while climbing and would only serve their purpose when he got down to the circulation desk. He didn't need to add his prints and contaminate the scene any more than he already would with his presence.
"Those cameras are still offline, right?" Sam asked, already eyeing the balcony and scanning the immediate area, mapping the layout in his head. There was an assortment of pillars, railings, and wall nooks he had to consider when he did this.
"I double-checked with Donna while you were in the cart. All of them are down for the count."
Sam made a distant noise of acknowledgment, his mind already racing as it spotted and discarded possible routes down. The library had high ceiling thresholds, which mean that despite the second-floor balcony just overlapping the circulation desk, it'd be quite the drop down, maybe ten feet or so.
Not that the drop was an issue for Sam with his long limbs and height. In fact, getting down would be the easy part. It was getting back up that would prove tricky. He'd either have to find the clearest path through the blood to get to a pillar he could scale, or…
I could jump to one of the benches and go from there. But that's a bigger gap than I'm used to.
Sam didn't voice the alternate option he was considering. Gabe was already growing nervous enough as it was by his side, and the P.I would try his best to shoot down the move.
"I'm ready. It shouldn't take more than five minutes," he said, toes and fingers flexing in anticipation, "That flash drive better be there."
And with that, Sam swung a leg over the edge of the railing, his hands sliding down the rails on one smooth motion until they hit the base of the rails and he was dangling in midair.
"Jesus Christ-Sam!" Gabe hissed, rushing to the edge of the balcony and looking over with wide eyes.
Sam looked up at him and grinned, giving him a cheeky wink. If he had really wanted to, he could've just jumped right over the railing landed below, but the resounding thud would've attracted unwanted attention. This way, his drop down would be a little quieter.
"Be right back," he said as he let go and landed lightly on the desk below, which couldn't have been more than three or four feet away thanks to his height.
The desk was cold beneath Sam's bare feet, but he didn't stick around for long on the top. As soon as he got the latex gloves on, he stepped off of the desk and hunched over, making sure that he wouldn't be visible.
Luckily, the inside of the desk had been spared the bloodbath treatment, so Sam was free to move around where he pleased. Using soft steps, he moved around until he spotted Hoffman's workstation based on the directions Gabe had relayed to him.
"Jackpot," he whispered as he slid the drawer open. The flash drive was taped to the underside just like he'd been told.
Sam peeled it away and slipped it into his pocket. The whole ordeal had taken less than a minute, but now he had to get back up.
Voices outside got his attention, and Sam cursed softly before peering over the edge of the desk. He could vaguely perceive Gabe's aura moving away from the edge of the balcony and down towards the right above him, but Sam's primary concern was the rising voices outside.
It seemed a few officers were getting into a heated conversation, but over what was a mystery. There were waving arms and swirling auras involved, but the distance and doors between them and Sam distorted the scene enough that he couldn't get any clear details.
Shit. What if they decide to come in?
Sam didn't feel overwhelming panic by the thought; he'd long slipped into the calm, but alert mindset he'd been trained to fall into in times like this. He was more concerned about Gabe, who was one floor above and a much more wired, tense individual than him. The P.I could think quickly on his feet, but they hadn't talked much about what they'd do if someone walked in. He didn't want Gabe to get caught and land himself in trouble over this.
The officers still had their backs turned, seeming to respect the yellow crime scene tape strung up across the entrance even as they argued. Sam studied their auras for a moment as best he could before making up his mind and looking upwards, hoping he could spot Gabe and somehow communicate what he was thinking.
He managed to spot him quickly thanks to his flashy aura. Gabe had moved towards the far-right side of the balcony, half tucking himself and the cart behind a section of wall that formed an effective blind spot to anyone down here looking up.
Their eyes met, and it was as if a link just as good as a phone call had been established between then. Sam only made a few vague hand gestures, but he just knew Gabe got the message when the man nodded and slid back further, turning his cart so that he could make a quick getaway once Sam got up there.
It's sort of like working with Dean, but not at the same time, he thought as he looked at the officers one last time. He worked more seamlessly with Dean due to their upbringing and their close relationship, but working with Gabe was surprisingly intuitive, like they'd been doing this for years.
Sam made sure that the flash drive was safe in his pocket before moving, his body reacting almost before his brain had sent his muscles the impulses needed. His legs were on top of the desk and pushing himself upward in a flash, propelling him forward and up over the Enochian and towards a bench that was blood-free like the rest of its compatriots lined against the far wall.
He landed with a thud louder than he would've liked, but the bench he'd aimed for was right next to a large pillar, and Sam quickly slid up against it just in case the officers had heard. Overhead, he heard Gabe gasp, but the P.I shot him a thumbs up and motioned him upward, signaling the coast was still clear.
"How the fuck-Sam, do you know how far that was?" Gabe loud whispered as Sam peeled off the latex gloves.
"It wasn't that far," Sam whispered back, already planning out his route from his new location, "Now stand back, and keep an eye out."
He quickly leaped over to the next bench, which was roughly three feet away. Sam wasn't really keeping track, as for him, everything was just reduced to mere obstacles or aids in his path upward.
From the new bench, it was simple to just jump up the pillar and reach from there for one of the windows set up high in the wall. They were tall and skinny windows, sunken into the wall so they had a lip about half a foot wide to stand on. Sam's shoulders were too broad to completely fit in the window, but it didn't matter, as he didn't plan on sticking around for long.
Turning to face the balcony, which was now at eye level and a few feet away, Sam made the leap. It was an awkward one from the window, but the divide wasn't a large one, and both of his hands easily grasped the top of the railing.
His legs swung forward, carried by the force of his jump, but Sam let it. He hadn't lost much muscle tone in his arms, and they continued to support him as he swung his legs back, bringing his right one upward until his foot caught the edge of the railing.
With a grunt, Sam hauled himself over the edge, tucking himself in for a neat side roll he couldn't recall doing at any point once he'd left home that brought him to Gabe's feet.
"There. That wasn't so bad, was it-oof!"
Sam had let Gabe help him up and into the alcove for time's sake, but he hadn't expected the rib crushing hug the P.I was currently giving. His aura was fluttery and mimicked the hug by drawing in around them in glimmering shades that cut through the shadows around them.
"You scared me half to death with those stunts, you idiot!" Gabe said, his arms doing their very best to squeeze Sam's internal organs in an unescapable vice.
"They weren't even that bad," he wheezed, unsure of what to do except loop the arm that wasn't pinned to his side around the P.I's shoulders.
"To you maybe," Gabe grumbled from where his face was pressed into his chest before pulling away (Sam had to resist rubbing his ribs when he did), "Ready to get out of here?"
"Yeah. Let's make this cart ride quick," Sam replied with a grimace as he eyed the awaiting cart.
Escaping the library was easy, almost ludicrously so. In fact, the whole expenditure went far better than Sam could've hoped. He'd been expecting some sort of potential disaster, from Gabe either running into someone he couldn't fast-talk his way past, to someone suspecting something was amiss with the cart and decided to take a peek in. Hell, he'd even expected one of the officers to glance back into the library and spot him when he'd been getting back up to the balcony, but everything went well.
They'd got away scot-free. Sam couldn't stop grinning, even as the cart bumped over the sidewalk, because they'd done it. Out of all the crazy things they'd done, this had been one of the riskiest, and it had all worked out.
Gabe's excitement grew as they got further and further from the library; Sam could sense it as the colors bled more and more through the cart. It was a testament to how powerful his aura was, and by the time they arrived back in the bathroom, Gabe was a jittery, happy mess of adrenaline.
"We did it Sam!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms around him the moment he'd opened the lid and gotten half of his body out.
Sam yelped as the cart nearly tipped over, but he managed to regain his balance by contorting his torso and clinging to the exuberant P.I with all he had.
"I think it'd be a better idea to let me get out of the cart first," he said, trying to focus less on the exhilarating warmth washing over him and more on the fact that he was very close to falling to the bathroom floor and taking the cart with him.
Gabe had the decency to look abashed, and after some careful maneuvering (and a lot of clinging on Sam's part, but he'd deny that later, as he didn't need help getting out), Sam was finally free of the torturous thing.
"Ok, now we can do the celebratory hug," he said, sweeping Gabe into a giant bear hug that lifted him clear off the floor.
This time it was Gabe's turn to yelp, and Sam laughed as he swung him around in a full circle before setting him down.
"I present to you the spoils of our raid," he announced, producing the flash drive with a flourish.
"Mission accomplished," Gabe said with his trademark gleam in his eyes that not even the contacts could change, "Let's get out of here, shall we?"
They got themselves ready to go back out, with Sam redressing and Gabe stripping off the elements of his disguise. His hair stayed dark and would until he washed it out, but the mustache and contacts were quick to go.
"It's actually kind of itchy," he confessed as he peeled it off.
"I bet, but at least you don't smell gross," Sam said, sniffing his shirt experimentally before cringing away. His prolonged stay in the cart had resulted in its obnoxious smell sticking to him.
They returned the cart and uniform to its proper home before skedaddling, sticking close together and bracing themselves against the blustery wind that had started up while they were inside. Gabe practically clung to his elbow, teeth chattering and nose reddening with every step they took.
"Lawrence weather can go fuck itself," he muttered, and Sam snorted before gently loosening his arm from Gabe's grip.
His aura quickly turned disappointed but cheered up immediately when Sam threw it over his shoulder and tugged him closer so he'd be warmer by his side.
"You're the best," Gabe declared, sneaking an arm around his waist.
"I know I am," Sam said confidently. He was still riding the high of their success, so he let himself be bold and continue speaking what he'd secretly thought in his head, "We make a pretty good team."
"We do, don't we?" Gabe said with a smile that had no business looking as soft and satisfied as it did.
With their arms wrapped around each other, the duo trekked through the nearly quite campus. They passed few people on their meandering stroll, and Sam wondered if, from the outside, they looked like a couple.
"Hey, Sam?"
Sam pulled himself from his wandering thoughts and looked down at Gabe, who was looking at something across the street. He followed his gaze and found that what had attracted the man's attention was, of all things, a church. It was a small, old Catholic church that he could recall passing many times on his way to campus, complete with stained glass windows and wooden doors.
"You want to go in?" he asked, confused. He'd never taken Gabe for the religious type, and it was an oddball thing for even him to do (especially after they'd technically broken into a crime scene).
Gabe half shrugged; eyes distant as he gazed at the church. His aura swirled with something related to nostalgia, but not quite. It was too sad for typical nostalgia.
"It reminds me of the church I was left in," he said, arm tightening around his waist, "And I think I had a dream…"
He shook his head, cutting himself off before pulling away from him.
"Have you ever had a dream that you thought was important, but you can't remember it in the morning?"
If only you knew, Sam thought, thinking of the visions that he wished he didn't remember when he woke.
"I think I know what you mean," he said instead, "Dreams are funny like that. If you think going in would help, then we'll go."
Gabe paused for a moment, wavering on the curb before squaring his shoulders and setting off. Sam remained a few paces behind, both respectful of the P.I's need to lead and because he was a little wary himself.
Sam had never been devoted to any sort of religion, but he liked the core concept of a church. In essence, it was a safe place, and while he hadn't been in many, the atmosphere inside was always the same. A congregation left behind a distinct blend of auras that accumulated into the faith-filled air Sam believed people sensed when they walked into churches.
This church was no different. It was smaller on the inside than he'd expected, with dark wooden rafters and worn pews, but the candles up front and to the right were lit. An old woman sat on the left side, either asleep or bent over in prayer; Sam couldn't tell. Her aura was barely distinguishable from the general misty, pearlescent atmosphere of the church, leading him to believe that she was a long-time patron.
Gabe walked down the aisle quietly, his steps gaining more and more confidence as he approached the table of candles. The light that made it through the windows reflected the gloom outside but illuminated him in a thin wash of white nonetheless with every window he passed.
Sam followed more tentatively. Churches, however safe they felt on the aural level, also made him remember that he wasn't exactly the best person in the world. He had come with Gabe because he sensed that one some level, Gabe wanted him there, but if given the choice, he probably would've opted to wait outside.
Up close, the candles revealed that not all of the wicks held a flame. Gabe's eyes danced over the candles as he picked up a wick, blazing molten gold in the dim interior.
"Mind lighting a candle with a friend?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder to look back at him. His aura had softened at the edges, melting into the misty atmosphere of the church.
"You want me to?" Sam asked, toeing the floor softly with a boot. He didn't think Gabe had wanted him to do so, and besides, he'd never lit a candle in a church before.
Gabe nodded, extending a wick out to him. Sam took it, feeling as if he was cradling a splinter between his fingers, before stepping up to the table.
They both lit a candle within seconds of each other, stealing a bit of flame from one to pass to the other. Gabe exhaled as he did so, the deep, tense colors in his aura easing as he lit the candle.
In contrast, Sam's heart squeezed at the sight of Gabe's now serene face. He'd seen him relaxed, happy, and lax with sleep, but never like that. It made him want to put that look on his face more often, but as he dropped his wick into a tucked away wastebasket beneath the table, Sam didn't think he could make it happen when he didn't know what it felt like himself.
"I'm not religious, and I still don't really get why I came in here, but that made me feel better," he admitted as they left the table behind. This time, they were walking side by side, as much as the narrow aisle would let them.
"Dreams are weird like that," Sam remarked, thinking of the snatches of future and past he saw nowadays that he tried to understand, "As long as it made you feel better, then does the why really matter?"
Cold air greeted them as they stepped out, just as cold as when they'd entered. Gabe took his head and tilted his head contemplatively.
"No, I suppose not," he said, leading them down the steps, "Let's get back."
They were about a block from the parking garage when it happened. Gabe had been talking and not paying attention to where he was going, even though he'd taken the lead, and so caught his foot on something.
He tripped over something so hard and fast that Sam couldn't keep him from going down. The world spun dizzyingly for a second before Sam got himself reoriented, landing half on the sidewalk Gabe had been trying to step onto and half on the road. Gabe landed on top of him, and Sam winced as his elbow jabbed his stomach.
"Ouch," he groaned, rolling so Gabe flopped onto the sidewalk by him, "What the hell Gabe?"
"Sorry," Gabe said sheepishly, "But it's not my fault I keep tripping these days! This time it was a manhole cover of all things!"
He pointed accusatorily at the guilty manhole cover; distaste clear in his voice and aura.
Sam stared at the manhole cover. It was just an average cover, identical to the many others that littered the city, but something about it bothered him. Something he should know was sitting on the tip of his tongue, the very same thing that had been eluding him one way or another for the past week or so.
A trapdoor, deep in a series of tunnels. The stench of garbage, oppressive and rank in the dank darkness.
The smell of sewage.
"-Sammy. Sam? Sammo, did you hit your head on the way down or something?"
Sam was glad he was already on the ground because the epiphany that finally clicked into place made him light-headed in a way that would've been dangerous if he'd been standing.
"I'm so stupid. It's been staring me in the face the whole time," he said, eyes still fixed on the manhole cover.
"What?"
"We've got to get back to my place, and I've got to call Dean on the way," he said, urgency driving him to haul Gabe up and tug him down the street.
"Why?"
Sam met Gabe's confused gaze with his own grim one.
"I know how Death's getting around the city."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hello lovelies! All I've got is time on my hands, so here's another chapter with a lil bit of everything in it. Humor, seriousness, and best of all, a smattering of sexual tension that'll only go up from here. I'll also take the time to remind you that this story is rated M, both for the upcoming violence and pairings. The next chapter will have Dean and Cas, and should be up by next week at the lastest.