(11/2/2016) Job rejection number four occurred, so I'm shamelessly pandering for good vibes! There's just not enough work for music teachers these days.
Thank you RHatch89, IoSolUno, thedarkpokemaster, philly cheese dude, and jkmp28 for the reviews! And early Thanksgiving turkeys for all the followers and favoriters!
The logo Sam managed to sketch led Ash to a line that ran in Guthrie, Oklahoma. Nobody thought the minivan would survive such a trip. Sam and Dean discussed stealing something until Ellen overheard and gave them a blistering lecture about setting an example for their little sister. Dean rolled his eyes but Sam promised to go rent a car instead. He left out the questionable nature of the credit card they were going to use.
At the rental place they were offered first a 2006 Chevrolet Impala SS which Dean immediately turned down. Not only were the modern Impalas substantially inferior in his eyes, but he didn't need another reminder of his unfinished work back at Bobby's. They "paid" a little more for a Mitsubishi Eclipse and headed on to Guthrie.
It was well into the evening by the time they were done and the eight hour ride would see them arriving at dawn. Buffy, being small, curled up on the rather tiny back seat while Sam scooted the passenger side as far back as possible and made a valiant attempt to get comfortable. As soon as the both of them were snoring Dean happily pushed the sports car as fast as possible. He hated to admit it, but driving the thing was actually kind of fun.
As a result, they made it to Guthrie at about four in the morning, far sooner than expected. Dean checked them into a motel then proceeded to use the car horn to wake up his siblings. Neither were greatly amused.
Dean and Buffy fell into one bed and Sam the other in order to glean a few more hours of rest. When they woke up, Sam dutifully pulled out his computer and began to do research on the town's citizens.
"That's him," he announced. "Dr. Jennings. Local OB/GYN."
"Okay," Dean said. "Now what?"
"I have a hunch. Give me a second."
While Sam dug more into the Guthrie population, Dean banged on the bathroom door. "It's been thirty minutes!" he yelled. "Some of us have to pee!"
"Go use a tree if you're that desperate," Buffy called back.
"The hell she doing in there anyways?" Dean grumbled as he sat on their bed. Out of boredom he began flipping through the television channels, finally settling on a rerun of Dr. Sexy, MD.
Ten minutes after that, Buffy emerged with her face and hair done up for the day. She looked disbelievingly back and forth between Dean and the television. "Uh, what are you watching?"
"Nothing," he replied quickly. He hit the power button on the remote and stood up to use the now empty facilities.
Buffy chose to indulge in Dean's pretenses and peeped over Sam's shoulder. "Why are you looking at things from your birth year?"
"Hunch," he repeated. "There," he stated, satisfied. He pointed to an article from the Guthrie News Leader, the local paper.
"'Local Woman Killed in House Fire.' What? I still don't get it."
Dean exited the bathroom as Sam read part of the article out loud. "Betty Gallagher was killed in a house fire yesterday that appears to have been started by faulty wiring in their nursery. Her husband, Kyle, and adopted son, Andrew, fortunately escaped before the flames consumed the entire home."
"Sam," Dean said warily.
"The guy that makes the doctor kill himself; he's got to be this Andrew Gallagher."
"How the hell do you know for sure?"
"Every premonition I've had, if they're not about the demon they're about the other kids the demon visited. Like Max Miller, remember him?"
"Who?" asked Buffy.
"This psycho," explained Dean. "Sam had this dream… psychic thing… whatever of some dude getting killed. We get there and this Max, he's taking revenge on his shithole parents by moving things with his brain."
"The thing is," Sam added, "his mom died exactly like ours did, exactly six months after his birthday just like me. Just like this Andrew Gallagher."
"That's… weird," Buffy responded. "So is this some kind of six-month-old baby, mommy-killing serial killer demon?"
"That's just it. Both of us had psychic powers, and it looks like this Andrew guy might have them too. I think he's using them to tell that doctor to kill himself."
"Come on," Dean snorted. "We don't even know if it is this guy."
"Only one way to find out," Sam told his brother determinedly.
Since Dr. Jennings was an OB/GYN, they sent Buffy to his office under the pretense that she was searching for a new physician. Perturbed by the errand, Buffy started to ask Dean if she should go ahead and get an exam. She went into specifics as to what that would entail beginning with "stirrups" and "speculum." After several sentences passed, during which Dean couldn't do anything other than gape, the eldest sibling quite maturely put his fingers in his ears and sang "Hotel California" at the top of his lungs while walking out the door.
The brothers suited up, decided to pose as lawyers representing Andrew Gallagher's imaginary wealthy late aunt, and headed for the only definitive address of his they could find: the diner he had once worked at. While Buffy was following the doctor on his lunch break stroll, Sam and Dean met a waitress who had been Andrew's friend and an obsequious busboy that appeared to hold the man in very high regard.
They were directed to Orchard Street and to a van with a somewhat lewd mural painted on the side. Dean drove their rental car over and parked across the road. Their sister called Sam's phone as they were trying not to stare. "Bloodhound Buffy, reporting in."
"Where are you?"
"Walking. You know Dr. Jennings' office has a salt water fish tank? It has Nemo and Dory and everything."
Slightly exasperated, Sam asked, "The doctor, Buffy?"
"Oh. Right in front of me. Well, not right in front of me, but, like, I can see him."
"Keep on him, okay?"
"Sure. Oh, he's shaking hands with a guy that's walking outdoors in his pajamas. And ew."
"What?"
"There's the ugliest van ever across the street. I think there's, like, a half naked barbarian woman riding a polar beer." The brothers were then startled when Buffy opened the passenger side door and told Sam, "Scoot!"
The younger brother stood up and let his sister into the back seat. "Buffy thinks the van's ugly."
"What?" Dean exclaimed. "No freaking way. That thing is sweet."
"You are so weird," Buffy commented. She pointed to a middle-aged black man. "That's the doc."
"Okay," said Sam as he backed away and shut the door. "I'm going to follow him."
"We'll stick with Andy," Dean replied as the questionably painted van began pulling away.
Sam nodded at them and proceeded to tail Dr. Jennings. As Dean turned the key, Buffy maneuvered herself into the front passenger seat. "I'm starving," she announced. "Can we go for pizza after?"
"Sounds good to me."
They drove in companionable silence for a few miles, doing their best to keep at least two cars between them and Andrew's van. The town was small, however, and eventually they ended up on a road with no one on it other than themselves. Andrew's van came to a halt and the pajama-wearing owner popped out and strolled over. "Hey," he said amiably.
"Hey, hey," Dean replied.
"Hi!" Buffy added, wiggling her fingers.
"This is a nice ride," Andrew complimented. "This year's model, right?"
"I think so," said Dean. "Handles like a dream on those sharp turns. Too bad it's only a rental."
"Really? Can I have it?"
"Sure." Buffy watched, dumbfounded, as her brother got out of the car and handed over the keys.
"You should get out, too," Andrew told her.
"Uh, why?"
"Well, because I said so."
For a moment, Buffy inexplicably found herself struggling to decide what to do next. Her hand shook as she involuntarily opened the door. She then half-stepped, half-fell out of the car as her feet and her brain argued about what to do.
Dean helped Buffy to her feet as Andrew drove off. The two of them stared at their disappearing rental vehicle, nonplussed, until it had disappeared out of sight. "Why did I just do that?" Dean wondered.
"I dunno," Buffy replied with a shrug. She rubbed her temples. "Why does my head hurt?"
"Shit!" her brother cursed. "That dude full on Obi-Wanned me!" He pulled out his phone and called Sam on speakerphone. "Hey, let me know if you see—" Tires screeching to a halt on asphalt blared through the phone. Cries of dismay quickly followed. "What was that? Dean asked urgently. "Sammy?"
"Oh God," their brother whispered. "Come downtown. I'll meet you in front of the hardware store." He hung up.
"Are we taking the perverted van?" Buffy asked. "Since, you know, Obi Wan left his X-Wing."
Dean sighed and regretfully declined. "Maybe next time. We better start walking."
They found Sam sitting dejectedly on the steps in front of a place advertising guns and sporting goods. "I stopped him from going inside," he mumbled. "I thought he was okay, that he was past it. Then he just… I should have stayed with him."
Buffy sat next to him and gave him a comforting hug. "It's okay. If it makes you feel better, Dean just gave killer-mind-guy our car."
"What?"
"Dude," Dean cried, "he told me to give it to him and I did it! I have no idea what the fuck happened."
"He did it to me, too," added Buffy, "but it was, like, super weird. Like my brain was saying 'yes' and my feet were saying 'no.'"
"Maybe it's the Slayer thing," Sam offered.
"Meh. So what now?"
"I don't know." Sam hung his head despondently.
Dean stared at his brother, puzzled. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing."
"You have poop-face," observed Buffy.
Sam lifted his head up to blink at his sister. "Excuse me?"
"Poop-face! Like something poopy is going on so it's showing up on your face."
"I thought she meant you looked constipated," said Dean. "Although that's not far off the mark either."
Sam sighed. "This Andrew Gallagher, he's the second guy like this we've found. Demon came to them when they were kids, now they're killing people."
"We don't know what Andrew Gallagher is, all right? We don't even know for sure it was him that did this."
"My visions haven't been wrong yet."
"Really?" Buffy asked eagerly. "Can you see if Dean will ever have an actual relationship? Because frankly I think it's sort of a lost cause and—"
"My point is," Sam cut in loudly. "I'm one of them."
"No, you're not," Dean stated firmly.
"Dean, the demon said he had plans for me and children like me."
"What plans?" asked Buffy.
"I don't know, plans! Maybe he's getting together a bunch of psychic freaks, like maybe we're all supposed to be—"
"Killers?"
"Yeah."
"So the demon wants you out there killing with your minds, is that it?" Dean asked.
"Doesn't it seem like it?"
Sam's brother and sister looked at one another. After a few moments, Buffy started giggling derisively, and Dean wiped a hand down his face in order to stifle his own mirth. "What?" Sam snapped.
"You're not a murderer, Sam," Dean told him. "You don't have it in your bones."
"No? Last I checked, I kill all kinds of things."
"Oh my God," Buffy snorted. "Don't you remember carrying spiders out of the house instead of squishing them?"
"That was different! They weren't doing any harm."
"Yeah? And there's your reason," Dean said definitively. "The things you kill, we kill, they deserve it."
"I guess," Sam muttered, obviously unconvinced.
"Well the doctor is a pancake," Buffy stated. "Now what do we do?"
"Find the fricking car," grumbled Dean. "Then go back to watching Andy's ride. Thing ain't exactly subtle."
The Eclipse was only a few blocks away, thankfully, with the keys left plopped onto the driver's seat. Dean couldn't imagine how traumatizing it would have been if he'd been driving the Impala.
After Sam kicked Buffy out of the passenger seat (claiming, quite truthfully, that there was no way he could fit in the back), they headed back to where they had left Andrew Gallagher's van. It was, surprisingly, still in the same spot.
They headed for the back doors. Sam jiggled the handles and was startled when they fell open. The three siblings stared at the insides.
Sam was appalled.
Buffy was bemused.
Dean was impressed.
It was an homage to the 1970s, complete with disco ball. The back seats had been laid flat and made even, then covered completely with a variety of fake fur pelts. A bead curtain separated the decor from the front seats. The windows and walls had been blackened, the exception being a roaring tiger painted on the driver's side. Several thick paperbacks were strewn about whose titles caught Sam's eye. "Hegel, Kant, Wittgenstein?" he listed as he picked them up. "That's some pretty heavy reading."
"This is magnificent," Dean breathed. "I like the tiger."
"Why does it smell like a skunk exploded?" asked Buffy.
Her eldest brother pointed at the large, cylindrical glass object lying at a careful angle against the passenger seat. "Probably because of Moby Dick's bong."
"His dong? Ew! Why would he have—"
"Bong. Weed."
"Oh. That makes more sense."
Dean turned to Sam. "Not exactly a serial killer's lair. There's no clown paintings on the walls, or scissors stuck in victims' photos. Clowns would have done it for you, right Sammy?"
"Shut up," Sam replied. "Dean, you had O.J. convicted before he got out of his white Bronco and you have doubts about this?"
"He just doesn't seem like the stone-cold killer type, that's all. And O.J. was guilty."
"How did orange juice drive a car?" Buffy wondered. She blinked when both her brothers peered down at her.
"Sometimes you're just way too blonde," Dean muttered as he shut the doors. The trio then headed back to their own car.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"If I gotta explain it then I've proved my point."
"Yeah, well… at least I don't think the porno van is cool."
Astonished, Dean whirled around. "What? Why do you know what… that even is?
Peeved, Buffy glared back. "One, I'm sixteen. I know what sex is. Two, I traveled with your horny butt for weeks. I swear, you must have had, like, every STD at least once."
Sam gave Dean a wry smile when the elder brother silently implored him for help. "Dude. Waitress in Tampa. Doctor. Penicillin."
With a dejected slump to his shoulders, Dean gave a half-hearted, "Shut up," and unlocked the car doors.
One quick pizza run later and they were back to staking out the "Porno Van." As Dean and his sister were bickering about who should get the last slice, Sam postulated, "What I don't get is the motive. I mean, the doctor was squeaky clean, why would Andy waste him?"
"If it is Andy," Dean answered. "Come on," he told Buffy, "I'm bigger."
"I'm smaller," she retorted. "And younger. And prettier."
"The doctor was mind-controlled in front of a bus," Sam snapped. "Andy just happens to have the power of mind control. You do the math."
"I just don't think the guy's got it in him, that's all," Dean stated. Buffy then won the argument by snatching the pizza slice and licking it from crust to tip. "Gross. All yours."
"Yay!" Buffy cheered before tucking in.
"Well, how the hell would you know?" Sam asked, ignoring the food squabble. "I mean, why are you bending over backwards defending him?"
"'Cause you're not right about this," his brother said while giving their sister a grumpy glare. She then made a point to vocalize the deliciousness of her last few bites.
"Yum, yum, yu—gah!"
With a crack the man in question had appeared and slammed his hands on the top of the car. "Hey! You think I haven't seen you guys? Why are you following me?"
"Well, we're lawyers," Sam tried. "See, a relative of yours has passed aw—"
"Tell the truth!" Andy demanded, his voice reverberating strangely in the confined space.
"That's what I'm—"
"We hunt demons," Dean interjected.
Warily, Andy stepped back. "What?"
"What?" Buffy echoed as she and Sam stared at their brother, bemused.
"Dean!" Sam barked.
"Demons and spirits," Dean continued amicably. "Things your worst nightmares wouldn't even touch. Sam here, he's my brother. Back there is Buffy. She's the Slayer."
Together, his siblings cried, "Dean, shut up!"
"I'm trying," he whimpered. He then turned back to Andy. "Sam's psychic. Kind of like you. Well, not really like you, but see he thinks you're a murderer, and he's afraid that he's going to become one himself 'cause you're all part of something that's terrible. And I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right. Oh, and she has super powers. Could probably tear your arms out without breaking a sweat."
Completely unnerved, Andy told him, "Okay, you know what? Just leave me alone."
"Okay," agreed Dean, smiling agreeably. His brother and sister continued to gape at him. Andy began to walk to his van, casting leery glances back to the Eclipse, as Dean clutched his head in his hands and moaned in pain.
Sam jumped out of the car, Buffy following. Panicked, Andy yelled, "What are you doing? Look, I said leave me alone. All right?" His hands flapped as he made shooing motions to the two of them. "Get out of here, just start driving and never stop."
"Doesn't seem to work on us, Andy," Sam countered. He suddenly realized Buffy had stopped, her face scrunched up in concentration and her fists clenched to her sides. "Well, mostly doesn't work on her. But it's not doing anything to me." Sam continued to advance. "You can make people do things, can't you? You can tell them what to think."
As distracted as he was by the looming lunatic Andy failed to realize how far his robe's sash had fallen. He stepped on one trailing end and sat down hard on the asphalt. "Y-Y-You're crazy! Get away from me!"
Sam crouched in front of him and calmly asked, "It all started about a year ago, didn't it? After you turned twenty-two. Little stuff at first, and then you got better at controlling it."
"How do you know all this?" Andy wondered, confusion momentarily pushing away his fear.
"Because the same thing happened to me, Andy. My mom died in a fire, too. I have abilities. You see, we're connected, you and me. So now," Sam continued, his tone turning harsh, "why did you tell the doctor to walk in front of a bus?"
He was surprised to see the genuine confusion on Andy's face. Dean's continued insistence that this wasn't their murderer began to have more merit. As a conciliatory gesture Sam reached a hand out to help the man to his feet. That was when a vision took him, the agony whiting out his sight, and he crumpled over with a cry.
Rather than take the opportunity to escape, Andy rose to one knee and began to gently shake Sam on the shoulder. "Hey, buddy? You okay?"
Now free from Andy's psychic restraints, Buffy rushed over to kneel beside her brother. After a moment more to clear his head, Dean opened the driver's side door and followed suit just as their brother bellowed in pain. "Sammy?" he said urgently. "What is it?"
"Look, I didn't do anything to him!" Andy cried.
Sam let out a few gasps before opening his eyes. "A woman," he groaned, "burning alive. Gas station. She's going to kill herself. Another cell phone trigger."
"What does he mean, going to?" asked a flummoxed Andy. "What is he—What is—"
"Shut up!" Dean shouted.
The group went still as a fire engine wailed past them. After getting a silent affirmation from his siblings, Dean stood up and raced after it.
Andy also rose to his feet and made to follow. He was forced to a halt when Buffy's hand was planted firmly on his chest. "Nuh-uh," she declared. "You're staying here."
"We'll make sure you don't hurt that woman," Sam growled as he clambered upright.
"I don't want to hurt anybody," refuted Andy. He tried to move past the tiny blonde girl and was shocked when she grabbed two fistfuls of his robe and glared. No amount of struggling freed him.
"Stay," Buffy commanded as she let him go. Andy sat promptly back down on the road, cross-legged.
Several minutes of uncomfortable silence ensued as they waited for Dean to report back. Andy took the time to ogle the attractive young lady with the incredibly strong grip. "So," he attempted, "Buffy, wasn't it?"
Wary, she replied, "Yeah."
"Staying in town for a while?"
"I dunno."
"You know, I've got a really sweet setup in my van."
"Dude," Sam said, annoyed, "she's sixteen."
"Oklahoma's age of consent," Andy reported.
"Oh, ew," Buffy complained. She then glowered down at Andy.
"Can't blame a guy for trying."
"Yeah? Try again and I'll rip off one of your legs and beat your head in with it."
Andy looked at Sam. "Can she do that?"
"Probably."
"Oh." Chagrined, Andy sighed. "Ah well."
The woman had already doused herself in gasoline and been immolated by the time Dean arrived. With Andy in their custody and the time frame of the suicide there was no possible way that he could have placed the call.
Sam wasn't convinced of Andy's complete innocence, but they allowed him to tag along for the remainder of their investigation. After hearing that the psychic had flirted with Buffy, Dean handed Sam the keys, jammed the passenger side seat forward, and squeezed himself into the back. Andy was left to squash himself in the now considerably shrunken front seat.
He ended up being an invaluable asset. With Andy's help they were allowed into the public records office after hours. They discovered that the murdered doctor had overseen his delivery and the woman had been his birth mother. The most shocking news was that Andy had a fraternal twin: Ansem Weems, the obsessed busboy from the diner.
The rest of the night proceeded in a series of terrifying events. They cornered Andy's twin at the Guthrie City Lake Dam with the waitress that had previously helped Sam and Dean. It didn't take long for them to discover that Ansem was considerably more well-versed in the use of his powers than his twin. The waitress ended up perched on the bridge railing after being forced to beat Sam over the head with a tree branch, Buffy was coerced into Ansem's car with the implication that an unsavory fate awaited her, and Dean was forced to point his own rifle under his chin. In the end, Andrew Gallagher saved them by picking up Sam's abandoned handgun and shooting his brother in the back.
After Andy convinced the authorities (psychically) that Ansem had killed himself, the siblings left Guthrie. They told the man to behave or they'd be back to take care of him. Sam was pensive and silent nearly the entire time.
They stopped around noon at a rest stop along Highway 183 in order to stretch their legs. Sam stared off in the distance and leaned against the hood of the car while Buffy and Dean had a friendly argument over what was more annoying: the endless drone of the cicadas or the oppressive heat.
As they were talking, the carcass of one particularly large insect fell out of a tree and landed on Dean's head. Their debate came to an abrupt halt as he came pelting to the car shouting vulgarities and madly swiping his hands through his hair. Buffy came soon after, laughing hysterically.
"Fucking bugs!" Dean shouted as he threw a rock at the offending tree. He then jabbed a finger at his sister. "The cicadas win."
Buffy hooted through the last of her mirth. "Okay, okay." She aimed her gaze at her other brother. "What's wrong, Broody McBroodyface?"
"Andy ended up being a killer anyways," Sam replied.
"No, he's a hero," Dean refuted. "He saved our lives."
"Bottom line is that he wasted somebody. He was pushed into it, sure, but there's blood on his hands. Max Millar was pushed by his abusive parents, I got pushed by Jessica's murder." Sam sighed. "I think that's yellow-eyes' plan: pushing us until he finds the right thing to make us break."
"Bullshit. We don't know what he wants, okay? Stop worrying about it."
Sam peered at his brother. "You know, I heard you before, Dean, when Andy made you tell the truth. You're just as scared of this as I am."
"That was mind control! I mean, it's like being roofied, man, that doesn't count."
"Why would you know what that feels like?" Buffy asked him suspiciously.
"You, shut it," Dean hurled back. He then turned his attention back to Sam. "No. I'm calling do-over."
"What are you, seven?"
"He wishes he was that old," Buffy quipped.
Dean wiped a hand down his face. "Look, we've just gotta keep doing what we're doing, find that evil son of a bitch and kill it. That's it." With that final statement, the eldest brother unlocked the car and sat back into the driver's seat. Sam and Buffy followed.
As they were getting back onto the highway, Buffy suddenly asked, "Why didn't Andy's power really affect me all the way?"
"Like I said, maybe because you're the Slayer?" Sam offered.
"Maybe." She frowned. "I don't like it."
"What, you'd rather be telling some stranger all your secrets like Dean did?"
"Hey!" objected their brother.
"No," Buffy said. "But it's just weird. I better tell Giles."
Further speculation was interrupted by the ring of Sam's phone. He held a brief conversation then informed his siblings, "It's Ash. He's got something for us."
"Back to the Roadhouse, then," Dean declared.
Acknowledgement : Some lines of dialogue are taken directly from the episode "Simon Said" (SPN 2.05).
Author's Note : The exact nature of the doctor killed by Ansem Weems was never specifically said, but seeing as how he did the birthing and the adoption I'm going on a hunch. Also, Andrew Gallagher's parents had no names so I gave them some nice ones.
Also, I was super surprised to find that the dam Ansem was at actually exists in Guthrie and wasn't just some conveniently placed plot location. That was neato.
