Chapter Three:
Swing Away
Summary: Being a fan isn't always easy. Meeting the object of your desire isn't all that it's hyped up to be, either. The Winchesters are certainly no exception, in any case, whatsoever. A woman must find her way back home, and endure the drama and heartbreak of the Winchester's lives. No pairings for now.
Notes: To answer a reviewer's question, things will begin to click into place. Don't want to ruin the reveal ahead of time!
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"Swing away, Merrill. Merrill? Swing away."
— Morgan Hess, "Signs"
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Hennig's house was empty, save for a yappy little schnauzer that only cooled its proverbial jets when Mendenhall snapped at him to shut up. Said yappy little schnauzer went skulking away with its head hung low and belly practically scraping the floor as it left to mope in another room. Mendenhall went room to room with Sam and Dean, calling for Hennig, but produced no results.
The key was also not showing up.
"Where would he have stashed it?"
"I…I think he has a safe upstairs, in his closet. Be right back."
Mendenhall retreated to the staircase, boots pounding away on each step as he ascended. The sounds of him shuffling down the hall and creaking open a door followed up.
The yappy little schnauzer came back, this time more repentant in its movements as it cautiously approached Dean first, tail nub wagging. The dog whined loudly at him to pet him. Dean shooed it away with his foot.
"Shoo. Get out of here. I got enough problems with one dog already."
Sam was more reciprocal in showing some manner of affection to the small dog. Mendenhall's clomping steps announced his impending return as he came storming down the stairs. He came with a golden gift in his hand, wagging it back and forth in triumph.
"Found it. He forgot to lock the damn thing, the idiot. Look…just…tell it to me straight. What's really going on? I…I have to know."
An exchange of looks passed between the Winchesters. Sam turned his attention back to Mendenhall first and jutted his chin out at him. "At this point in time, we're not at liberty to discuss it. Go find your buddy, and we'll take the key from here."
Mendenhall heaved a hefty sigh that seemed to settle in his bones and weigh him down.
"Hennig is going to kill me for this," he grumbled softly with a shake of his head. Halfheartedly, Mendenhall passed off the key to Dean's awaiting hand and Sam all but expelled a gusting sigh of relief when the exchange happened.
They parted ways from there. Mendenhall took off in his squad car, Sam and Dean shredding off the other way.
"How far's the place from here?"
"Uhhh…hang on, give me a sec."
It took barely a minute for Sam to find out.
"Twenty miles out, so about half an hour or so, give or take."
Sunset was coming up fast on them, casting the world below in a well of grey shadows where the sun no longer touched. The stillness of the forest swallowed them up, dampening the noise of the Charger's engine behind serrated ranks of an endless sea of trees.
By the time they pulled up to the address, they were fully encompassed in the dark. The cabin, hidden behind a copse of trees in several varying degrees of density, was almost missed entirely.
"This is the place?" Dean shot toward Sam, and he nodded.
"Yep. Old hunting cabin, apparently."
"Great."
It looked like the place had fallen to the ramshackle side of dissidence several decades ago, and it was almost surprising that it was still standing. Part of the roof was caved in, a rough patch of waist-high reeds, weeds, and long grass had encompassed one side of the building so thickly, it almost looked like it had caved in a window and part of the wall as well.
The Winchesters took what time they had left to weapon up; machetes, small spray bottles of borax, the whole nine yards. Sam pocketed the key last of all, turning it over in his hands to memorize the detailed craftsmanship with some amount of admiration made towards its reconstruction.
"She wasn't kidding. Thing's actually kind of nice looking," Sam conceded as the weight of it settled in his coat pocket. Dean yanked the Charger's trunk lid down with a slam, scanning the area.
"See anything?"
"Other than what's there? No." Sam confessed, brow crinkling with concern and suspicion.
"Let's move out, then."
They took their time, picking across the overgrown property, circling around it to inspect it for anything that they could exploit. There wasn't much left to do as such, however. It was a single-story cabin, with no other alternative entrances beyond the front and back doors. The back door was too overgrown with weeds to even bother using. The only obvious entrance that offered any admittance to the cabin was the front door, with the plant life cleared away completely.
Like a cattle chute.
Arrogant, uppity monster bastard.
Dean and Sam approached the cabin, their steps measured and careful as they white-knuckled their grips on the hilts of their weapons. Dean pushed open the door. The two of them scanned the squashed entrance.
The flickering orange glow of candlelight provided an ambience that promised nothing good as they stepped past the threshold and into the cabin proper.
They were quickly met with a sharply dressed man who looked completely out of place in the rundown cabin. He flashed an amicable smile at the Winchesters, head tilting back as though he were looking down his nose at them.
"Ah. Ahead of schedule. Wonderful. Come along, dear Winchesters. I believe we have an exchange to commence."
"Where's the girl?"
"Right this way. Follow me."
Sam gleaned the beginnings of a glower from Dean before following after his older brother. The only fully lit room materialized as they approached, offering a mostly unfurnished interior. A small writing desk held the candles and their tallowed forms leaned heavily in odd directions. Leaf litter covered the rotting wooden floors, scuffling limply on the ground as they trampled over them.
There was an old, sagging couch pressed against the far wall that looked like it had suffered more than its fair share of water damage. Shay was seated upon its grimy cushions. Unbound, but certainly looking shaken. Even when she perked at seeing the Winchesters, the sight of the Leviathan closing in on her kept Shay rooted in place.
She met their gazes, looking both terrified and angry all at once, as though this was an inconvenience that was shaking her up and she wanted nothing more than to punch it out of existence. The sight of her fists clenching tightly in her lap showed enough of that irritation as much as the petrified angle of her features.
"The key," Reginald stated, already getting down to business, hand extended out toward the two of them. Sam extracted it from his pocket, wagging the heavy thing just as a show of good faith. Bait. That's what it all was. They just needed a clear opening.
"What exactly do you plan on doing with this thing?" Dean snapped, leveling a glare toward the condescending prick standing opposite them. He hated the smile even more now that he could see it in person. Earlier over the phone, he could practically hear it oozing over the connection and somehow, it was worse up close. Almost as bad as Dick fucking Roman's.
"Well, isn't it obvious? As much as Roman's plans assume the best and…unopposed, we do have to consider and prepare for the worst-case scenario, don't we? An emergency rations sort of deal. And with this, the possibilities are simply ripe for the taking. Potentially endless supplies of food that are only a quick hop, skip, and a universal crossing jump away. And that key is literally just that: the key to all of it! Of course, we'd have to reimplement the same formula there as it is here…but those are semantics at the end of the day. Easily remedied."
"Oh, go shove a rusty knife up your ass and fuck it, you arrogant fuck-faced cunt-waffle." Shay barked off before anyone else could reply. Reginald swiveled on his heel in a languid fashion, unhurried in his motions as he assessed the woman on the couch. Shay bared her teeth and sprung to her feet, fists clenching all the tighter at her sides. "You really think that I'm just going to stand by and smile and say, 'okay, come invade my universe and eat us all when you guys fucking ravage this place'? Fuck you and fuck all your douchey monster friends!"
Reginald tilted his head to the side, but still in such a manner that it appeared as though he was looking down at Shay, which…honestly, it wasn't all that hard. The woman was barely even five-foot tall. All that pent-up rage did was make her look about as threatening as a chihuahua trying to size itself up against a great Dane.
The Leviathan laughed, twisting back toward the Winchesters on his smart-looking and shiny loafers.
"I believe our business transaction is nearing completion here. Hand over the key and you can take this…fiery little snack with you."
"Fuck you!"
"Shay, shut up! You're not helping," Dean snarled at the woman. She flinched at his words as though he had slapped her. In an instant, all that fury she had melted away into hurt. She wisely chose to swallow back whatever else she had left to say.
Sam inched closer, eyes darting between Reginald in all his smarmy glory and the reticent Shay, frozen on her spot. Moments before Sam was within Reginald's sphere of reach, he pulled back at the very last second, screaming, "DEAN, NOW!"
It all happened so fast. Dean ripped out the bottle of borax-laced cleaning product. A small amount to be sure, but effective enough to stop a Leviathan long enough to get the drop on them. The normally harmless cleaning material reacted instantly against the monster's flesh, eating away at it as though it was acid instead. He roared as it sizzled and hissed through his skin, leaving behind ugly pockmarks all over his face, neck, hands. Black blood wept from the open wounds.
Shay took that as the signal to get moving and pelted forward, giving Reginald a wide berth as she swerved toward the Winchesters. He swiped at her blindly, but she ducked in time. Sam caught her, pulling her behind him as he whipped out his machete, the blade ringing in his ears.
Reginald recovered quicker than either Sam or Dean planned on. He swung hard, slamming his arm into Sam and sent him flying. Dean moved in quickly, his own machete ready, only to go flying too from another blow. His blade went skidding across the leaf-strewn floor. Shay gasped, her body freezing in place. She startled when she saw the phoenix-ladened key lying on the ground, the candlelight glinting off its golden finish. Reginald's flesh smoked and sizzled as he started toward Sam first, features morphing into a cavernous maw ringed with rows of serrated fangs.
Shay's body was moving before her mind could fully comprehend what she was doing.
"Hey, asswipe!"
Reginald stopped, features sliding back to show the rage in his bright eyes. Shay toed the key still sitting on the ground and waved the machete she'd picked up off the ground.
Fury quickly slid into shock before returning to fury once again.
"NO—!"
Shay swung downward as hard as she could.
There was a thunderous crack that reverberated off the walls of the cabin as the key splintered into dozens of pieces. A rush of energy crackled in the air, released from its bindings. Just as quickly as Shay felt it imbed itself into her bones, it was gone again, dissipating into the ether. The blast had snuffed out the candles and the air felt colder without the warm light bathing them.
Reginald panted, staring all around, as if he could see more than any of them before he settled his frenzied-filled glare on Shay, his conventionally handsome features twisted into an ugly snarl.
"You…utter fool! Do you realize what you've just done?!"
"Stopped a monster from hurting a lot of people. A lot of monsters from hurting a lot of people, actually." Shay all but spat back. He took a menacing step forward, human features once again sliding away to show the monster within. One step was all Shay needed to act upon a knee-jerk reaction.
She swung just as her thoughts caught up and all she felt was resentment sluicing through her veins: the sharpened blade hitting home, connecting through tissue and bone and muscle, sliding right through it all and clearing it. Reginald's monstrous mouth slid away to show his surprised human features right as his head slumped clear off, disconnecting from his body. It landed with a wet squelch on the ground, his body tumbling over a split-second later. Black ooze dribbled from both stumps, staining the ground.
Shay stared, not quite connecting what she had just done to what had just happened. When it did, she scowled at the unmoving head. Before anyone could say anything, she reared back her leg and slammed it into Reginald's slack-jawed face, sending it flying across the room.
"That's for hurting my dog, you goddamn piss-chugger!" Shay yelled, breathing heavy and hard. She perked, as if remembering she wasn't alone and whipped around to find Dean staring at her. She glanced down at the weapon in her hand before stepping forward and offering her free hand to him. "Um…I…I just did that, didn't I?"
There was surprising strength packed into her small grip as she helped haul him up. Dean gave her a once-over. He turned his attentions to Sam. He shook his younger brother, who eventually came to. He reached up to touch the back of his head and winced but found no visible wounds to indicate he was bleeding or worse. Dean helped him up, slow and steady. Sam grimaced, teeth bared in a clench, but he shook off Dean's concerns and managed to stagger upright to his feet. Dean handed him back his machete and then turned to Shay.
He held out his hand to her, motioning for his own blade back. Shay handed it over, unable to hide the shakes she was suddenly riddled with. She looked back toward the glittering, smashed mess lying on the floor that had once been in the shape of a key. Half of the phoenix's face was lying faceup, a single blood-red ruby eye staring coldly upward toward the ceiling.
"O-oh…" Shay breathed out, her throat clenching together painfully. She struggled to swallow past the lump growing there, not quite crying, but teetering on that precipice. "W…what did I just do?"
Her words came out hoarse and strained as she gently knelt on the ground, plucking up several golden nuggets between her fingers. She couldn't see the shape it had once held, not anymore. There was only the ruby-eye, and the hint of a beak, and that was all she could recognize. A sliver of its former self.
"It's like you just said…you kept the monsters from hurting people. Your people, your universe."
Shay shook her head, the tears finally springing loose.
"I…I just destroyed my only way home."
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Kosmo was a drugged-out mess, but a vaguely happy one, as Shay led him on a borrowed leash out of the vet's. He stumbled but managed to keep his feet underneath him as he tottered toward the Winchesters' borrowed Charger idling in the parking lot. He was lucky, the vet had reassured Shay. Kosmo had no broken bones or ruptured organs, miraculously enough, and was simply jarred and bruised. They had run a slew of tests to ensure that all was well.
Sam had paid before Shay even realized he had done so while she talked with the vet and he was gone before she could thank him. Shay had expected him and Dean to speed on out of town while she was inside but had been further surprised to find them still waiting for her in the parking lot.
The two of them were standing outside the car, watching as she and her dog approached. She had a hand on her back pocket where her wallet lay nestled and she whipped it out as soon as she was within earshot.
"How much do I owe you guys for helping my dog? And me?"
Dean shook his head and Sam waved a hand at her. "Not necessary, really."
"I have to pay you back—"
"Drop it. The dog's fine, you're good. So we're good. At least he didn't need any surgery and you…you did good."
Shay's breath tightened in the confines of her lungs, making it harder to expel. She dropped her gaze and nodded, clearing her throat.
"Thank you. Um…I-I need my stuff."
"Where are you going to go?" Sam inquired. Shay didn't meet his gaze. Instead, she diverted her attention on Kosmo. He looked up at her warmly, a doggy grin plastered on his face as his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. She patted his head, and he leaned into her touch. He looked content to be back with her.
"I…I have no idea. I don't have anywhere else to go. I—" Shay furrowed her brows, biting her lip. "I don't know where to go or what to do."
She had no income. Practically no money. No job. No home.
No family, except for Kosmo, to turn to for help.
The yawning chasm of reality threatened to swallow her up into its endless depths and that terrified her.
Suck it up, cupcake, she told herself, trying to girdle herself up. You'll figure it out.
Wordlessly, Shay pulled the backdoor open, and reached for her backpack, settling one strap on her shoulder. Before she could haul out her duffle bag, Dean interrupted her.
"Stop. Just…stop." Shay blinked, straightened up, met his and Sam's gaze in equal measures. Dean motioned to get inside the car. "Let's go. Just…stop looking like someone kicked your puppy."
"Someone did kick my puppy; it was that asshole Leviathan!" Shay cried back, taken aback and incensed at the reminder.
"Yeah, and now he's fine. So, get in. We'll figure it out."
Sam gave her a tight smile and ducked back into the passenger seat, slamming the door home into its frame. Dean waited, staring at Shay. She found more interest in the ground, blinking rapidly.
"I don't need your pity," she said, enunciating each word carefully with stringency as she spoke.
"Let's get one thing straight here. This isn't pity. It's efficiency and…you did save our bacon back there. We're grateful for that, so…we'll take this a little further, figure out an arrangement. Deal?"
Shay hesitated in lifting her gaze but finally met Dean's intense stare and nodded. Quietly, she slid her bag back into the backseat, guided Kosmo into the car, and lastly pulled herself into the seat behind Sam.
It wasn't long before they were whipping out of town, picking up speed as White Pine disappeared in the rearview mirror. Twenty minutes out, Shay spoke out again.
"I have a question. Um…and I hope that it doesn't make y'all uncomfortable," she started off. She waited, and Sam replied first.
"What is it?"
"I…I know that Leviathans, they can…look in your head, see just about everything in there. Memories and stuff, if they have some kind of direct contact with a person, right?"
"Bingo-bango," Dean said.
"That asshole touched me. My skin, I mean, nothing weird or…anything happened. And…with all I know, you'd think he'd bail on whatever deal he had going on with you two and…take me to their leader instead to yank all what I know out. But he didn't say a word about it. Nothing that alluded to what's rattling in my head. You'd think he'd be arrogant enough to wave it in my face, taunt me and shit. And there's a lot I know." She sucked in a breath when Sam shot her a look over her shoulder and it was one that troubled her further. "Why wouldn't he take advantage of all that instead?"
They didn't answer her at first. The longer the unspoken words carried on, the more troubled it left Shay, the more miserable she felt deep down in her gut. The more anxious it made her as it grew in the pit where her stomach once resided in. It tasted sour as bile in the back of her throat and her mouth.
"I can't really say," Sam finally stated, choosing his words with care. "Maybe he wanted the both of you."
Somehow, that theory didn't sit well with Shay. Not because it wasn't what she wanted to hear, but simply because she had a worse theory in mind.
"Or maybe there's something really wrong with me, from when I crossed over."
Neither of the Winchesters commented on that, either. Somehow, that was even worse.
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