Here we are at the 5th chapter. I'm glad I'm still keeping you in suspense and guessing. Enjoy! Also for those wanting Cas and Jim to meet, I was honestly not planning to have them meet (I was planning an encounter between Cas and Blair somewhere down the line). I'll see what I can do, though :)

Chapter 5

"How the hell could you not tell me about this? I mean what was going through that head of yours when you made that decision? Come on, Sandburg, walk me through your thought process."

"Look, Jim, I was going to tell you…"

"You were gonna tell me? When, Sandburg? You had one week to tell me and you didn't say a word."

As soon as Dean and Ellison got back to the hotel, Ellison made true of his threat and jumped directly at Sandburg, who looked slightly betrayed that Dean had not kept his promise, but he had bigger problems anyway what with his enraged Sentinel practically raking him over the coals like he was a little kid. Dean and Sam wisely kept out of the fight, thinking the two were bound to run out of steam eventually.

"I didn't want to worry you," Blair insisted.

Jim shook his head.

"I don't believe this. For years you've drilled this refrain about telling each other the important things and I've been doing it so far. And here you are, keeping something this big. I mean…what if you kept it hidden until it was too late? Have you any idea what that would have done to me?"

"Come on, don't do this to me, man. I mean – I needed to come to terms, I was in denial, and I swear I was gonna tell you the next time I saw you, it's not my fault that somebody broke their word instead of giving me the benefit of the doubt, like I trusted them to!"

Dean cleared his throat. Apparently, the two of them were not going to run out of steam anytime soon and could give him and Sam a run for their money in the arguments department. He took a step forward.

"Ok, enough," he said. "First off, Sandburg – I decided to break my word as you put it while I was watching a friend of mine being carried off in a body bag and the realization hit me that you were next and this time, I could stop this. Second – how about we save the recrimination and focus on how to get rid of this thing?"

"Cerberus," Jim spat in disgust. "You want us to go after a mythological dog."

"Actually, we need to go after the one controlling the mythological dog," Sam pointed out. "We need the amulet to break the control. If we break the control – well, Agatha was pretty sure that once the amulet was destroyed Cerberus would be sent back to where he came from and the killings would stop."

"How sure is pretty sure?" Jim asked.

Sam shrugged.

"It might work but we're not 100% certain?" he tried.

Jim cast him a look full of contempt. It set Dean's nerves on edge.

"Hey, at least he's got something."

Jim rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm not sure you've noticed, pal, but for three of you time is running out. We can't afford half guesses."

He moved further into the room shaking his head, as if irritated with the lot of them. Suddenly, he stopped.

"There's this smell," he said. "I could have sworn I smelt it at two of the crime scenes at least."

"And you're smelling it here?" Dean asked skeptically.

Jim turned around and caught sight of Sam's jacket carefully flung on the bed. He picked it up.

"OK, if you're looking for my scent or something, that's disturbing," Sam remarked. "Not to mention a bit of an invasion of privacy."

Jim shook his head irritated.

"It's not you. It's something on your jacket but I can't tell because there are other smells on it more powerful." He paused and grimaced. "Man, what did you roll into? It reeks like hell."

"I think that's chupacabra brains," Dean supplied helpfully. "It's a bitch to get the smell out." He caught Sam's puzzled eyes and shook his head. "Don't ask."

Blair was now standing beside Jim, a hand on his elbow, their quarrel forgotten.

"Ok, c'mon Jim, filter out anything you don't recognize and don't overanalyze them. Just focus on the scents you know."

Jim hesitated.

"Smoke. Blood. Alcohol." He looked towards Sam and Dean and shook his head. "You guys have serious issues."

"Ignore that, too," Blair ordered. "Blood is common at a crime scene, that wouldn't have put you on edge. Smoke and alcohol are easily recognizable, you wouldn't have had trouble identifying them. What's left?"

Jim closed his eyes and was still for a few moments. When he opened them he looked triumphant.

"Old books. Library books."

Dean turned to Sam.

"You were at the library this morning when your secret admirer asked you into the staff room for a chat about means and motifs."

Blair frowned.

"I do hope you're not talking about Miss Ethel, she must be ninety, dude."

Sam shook his head.

"No believe me, this was no Miss Ethel. She was young, maybe thirtyish. Red-hair. Name was Moira I think."

Blair shook his head.

"Don't know her. Must be after my time."

"There was this redhead at one of the crime scenes," Jim said. "And I think I ran into her last night while I was out walking…"

"Well, she seemed pretty interested in the murders," Sam said. "If nothing, she might know something."

Ellison nodded. It made sense.

"I'll go check her out."

"It's Rainier and you know how they feel about me there," Blair said. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Jim snorted.

"No, Chief, I'm actually trying to keep you alive. And you, Sam, can't come either, since she knows you."

"Alright," Dean said. "I'm coming, though."

Ellison looked about to protest, then simply shrugged.

"Whatever. As for you two…"

"Agatha gave us her address," Sam said. "She must have had a journal there or notes or something to indicate what the amulet looked like. We should check them out."

Jim grimaced.

"I was thinking more along the lines of stay here. You're both targets."

Blair bristled at that.

"What? No way, man. Look, we need to divide our resources here. The quicker we can solve this, the safer we'll all be."

Ellison looked at Dean as if expecting him to be on his side. Dean really wanted to – but he supposed after letting Sam take on Lucifer and jump into the pit, it was slightly weird for him to stop Sam from going to an empty house where he would probably be safe.

"Normally, I'd agree," he said. "But if we're right and the next killing is due tomorrow, then, yeah, we're running out of time. We need that amulet found and destroyed."

Ellison scowled, but he probably saw the others had a point.

"Fine," he said. "But we keep in contact at all times. And neither of us separate for any reason whatsoever. Got it, Sandburg?"

Blair raised his hands in a pacifying gesture.

"Hey, I'll be Sam's shadow, promise."

"We'll be fine," Sam said.

A voice in Dean's head was muttering something along the line of famous last words. Dean resolutely told himself to ignore it.

xxXXxxx

It took a while for the four of them to be on their way, mostly because Ellison and Dean had a brief disagreement about which car they should take (and, implicitly, who should drive). Ellison thought it was more practical if they took his truck – as he said, he lived in Cascade and knew the place better than Dean, so it was more sensible if he was the one to drive. Dean claimed that he had a) ridden with Ellison before and frankly had found fewer dangers facing demons while armed with nothing but a half-full flask of holy water and b) he did not see why he should be the one to give up driving. The argument ended when Sam unceremoniously snagged Dean's keys from his jacket and steered Blair towards the Impala before Dean could figure out what was happening. The look Dean gave him told Sam he was in for one hell of a payback.

"Hey, we could have taken my car and let them sort out their masculinity issues on their own," Blair argued.

Sam glanced at Blair's much smaller car and imagined just how uncomfortable he would be crammed in the passenger seat.

"I think we're good. Besides, I can't remember the last time Dean let me drive."

He could actually. It was before Hell, on their way to take down Lucifer. Dean had let him drive then, his own method of showing Sam that he loved him. Sam doubted Dean had allowed his soulless self to drive much and, anyway, if he did not remember it, it didn't count.

Agatha had apparently kept the house she used to live in with her husband and children. She had allowed it to deteriorate, but had not sold or rented it, probably because she couldn't. it was the overwhelming urge of people to hold on to the leftovers of those they had lost. Like Dean had held on to a battered duffle bag of Sam's, even though he had thought Sam would never return from the Cage. He shuddered.

"Are you alright?" Blair asked, squinting at him from the passenger seat.

Sam huffed.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? After all, you're on the list. Tomorrow is your – what? Death anniversary?"

Blair nodded curtly looking out the window.

"You're on that list too, you know," he pointed out. "Hey, turn right here."

Sam followed his instructions and stopped in front of the tumbled down house. There were weeds in the yard and some of the windows were broken. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the tidy street. A sign on the fence announced the place was scheduled for demolition.

"Agatha must have hated that," Sam said. "This was her only link to her life in Cascade."

They crossed the yard and pushed open the door. They found nothing of note in the living room. Then Sam located what must have been Agatha and her husband's bedroom. The wall was covered in maps and notes, information about the murders and the victims. Blair whistled.

"I'm impressed. Those at the PD couldn't have done a better job."

"Most of the time a hunter's job isn't all that different from a detective's," Sam commented. "You research victims, deaths, places. Even motives."

Blair watched him surreptitiously as Sam was gathering some papers from the desk.

"You ever think about it?" he asked. "Becoming a real cop?"

Sam glanced up.

"Kinda hard to do that when you're on the most wanted list," he quipped.

"Lots of people think you're actually working undercover and that's why you're on the list."

Sam snorted.

"That explains why we can waltz into pretty much every police station in the country and everyone just looks the other way. And here I thought we were that good."

He fumbled through some drawers and took out a leather-bound journal. He waved it at Blair.

"A hunter's favorite tool. I'm dreaming one day to have enough time to make a database for all of these journals. Something like a hunter's help blog. Something every hunter can use."

"That's a great idea," Blair said.

Sam hummed, flipping through the journal.

"I'm never gonna have the time for it. Besides, no one's gonna want to read something I've written."

Blair frowned.

"Why not? You and Dean seem pretty good at your job. I'd have said hunters would be dying to learn from you."

There was a bitter smile on Sam's face.

"Long story. But I was persona non grata for quite some time. Still am, I think. At least in some circles." He shook himself out of whatever melancholy his words caused him and pointed to the journal. "This belonged to Agatha's mother, I think. She was tracking Cerberus and she's got a pretty good sketch of the amulet." He pulled out his phone and took a picture. "I'll send it to Dean."

"You don't think Moira keeps the amulet in the library staff room, do you?" Blair pointed out.

Sam snorted.

"Nah, it would be wishful thinking. But just in case, Dean should know how it looks like."

He froze as he heard the sound of a car pulling up the driveway. Signaling for Blair to stay put, he went to peer out the window. He could not see anything outside. Then, his heart nearly stopped when he heard the growling of a dog. His eyes met Blair's and he knew he had heard it too.

"It's here, isn't it?" Bair asked.

Sam nodded curtly. There was something waiting for them outside. Something that could not be outrun.

"Maybe we're safe if we stay here," Blair said. "I mean, it can't open doors, can it."

"Probably not. And since this was a hunter's house it's quite likely warded. Cerberus might not be able to get in."

They could not spend their entire lives holed up there, though. They needed to meet up with Dean and Jim.

"Ok," Sam said. "Here's the plan. That thing's waiting for us by the front door, right?"

Blair eyed him warily.

"Are you suggesting we leave by the back door?"

Sam shrugged.

"You have a better idea?"

Blair shook his head.

"I suppose not. Let's go."

Sam took out his gun. He rummaged through some more drawers and found what he sought.

"What's that?" Blair asked.

"Silver bullets. Doesn't stop everything, but from what I've glimpsed in the journal, Agatha's mom seems to think it might slow Cerberus down. So did Agatha, otherwise she wouldn't have had a stash of them here."

Too bad she had not taken any with her that day. Sam quelled the thought. Neither he nor Dean could have anticipated that Agatha was in the killer's sights. They should have, though, a small voice told him. She had been investigating the case longer than Sam and Dean. And maybe she had asked the wrong person the wrong questions and attracted the deadly kind of attention.

Nothing could bring Agatha back, though, and now Sam had Sandburg and himself to focus on. He loaded the silver bullets in his gun.

"Now you listen to me," he told Blair. "You stay behind me. You do as I say, when I say, got it? You follow my instructions to the letter."

Blair nodded quickly.

"Of course, man."

Sam cast him a long look.

"You're not gonna do something like the last time, are you?"

On their first case together Blair had also promised he would do what they asked only to take the initiative and give them the slip. His plan had worked, true, but Sam did not want to explain to Ellison just how he had gotten Blair into trouble.

"Not this time," Blair promised. "Really, I'm right behind you and I'll do what you say."

Some things, Sam thought, were better off not analyzed. He motioned Blair to follow him down the stairs and he took the lead, gun in hand.

There was something scratching at the front door. Sam could make out a dark shadow outside. It reminded him too much of the hellhounds. He shuddered.

"Are you ok?" Blair asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

Sam nodded curtly.

"Never better," he said through clenched teeth.

He did not want to think about hellhounds. He did not want to think about hell, either, whatever had happened there teasing the edges of his memory. Something from behind the Wall in his mind was about to invite him to take a peek. And Sam did not want to. He could not afford to, not then. He had no idea how he would react if he remembered something, but he was more than certain it would not be conductive in the middle of a dangerous situation.

Sam led Blair to the back door and pushed it open. It creaked and Sam cursed inwardly. He had not wanted to draw attention to their escape.

"Ok," he said. "The house across the street is under construction. We'll try to hide there and maybe wait it out until Ellison and Dean get here."

Blair nodded tersely. He wasn't looking at the house, though. He was listening for the dog. Sam shook his shoulder.

"Hey! You with me?"

"Where else would I be?" Blair quipped although his heart didn't sound in it. "Ready when you are."

The coast seemed clear. The two bolted out the door. From the other side of the yard they hear a growl. Sam looked back and cut a glimpse of a gigantic black shape. He thought hysterically that it didn't have three heads, like in the myths, then shook his head, because now was not the time to analyze the accuracy of Greek mythology. He turned and fired. The silver bullets hit Cerberus and he stopped, confused. He didn't vanish, but Sam's attack did slow him down.

"Go, go, go," Sam urged, pushing Blair in front of him.

They were in the other yard, with the house under construction. Sam turned and fired again. He hoped the neighbors would not be reporting gunshots to the police, although, if they did, maybe Ellison would catch wind of what was happening to them and be able to get them out of that mess.

Sam had lost sight of Cerberus now. He and Blair were nearly inside the under construction house. They would barricade themselves inside and phone the others. They crossed the threshold at the same time, then took several steps in the hallway. Sam had a brief thought that the ground felt slightly unsteady before the floor gave way beneath them.

Then Sam was falling, falling into darkness, the same way he had fallen a year ago when he had taken down Lucifer. The only thought in his mind was that he did not want the fall to end, because he knew instinctively that when it ended, that was when the pain would really begin.

xxxXXXxxxx

Moira was not at work. Miss Ethel, the librarian on duty made it clear she did not appreciate having the police looking into her staff, especially when it came to Moira who was "good people".

"I'm only doing it for you, James," she said pointedly. "Because you were such a good friend to Blair."

"I still am," Jim pointed out. "Listen, we're not accusing Moira of anything. She might just have seen something – know something without even realizing she does, you get my drift?"

Miss Ethel rolled her eyes.

"Son, just because I'm old, it doesn't mean I'm daft. I can read between the lines, you know."

She pushed the key to the staff room to him.

"How long has Moira been working here, anyway? And what's her last name?"

Miss Ethel peered at Dean over her horned-rimmed glasses.

"Actually she just came here about a year ago. Moira Tavros is her name."

Jim frowned.

"Isn't that a Greek name?"

Miss Ethel frowned.

"No law against that, is there?"

Her frown deepened as Dean's phone pinged.

"Young man," she began. "This is a library, you know."

Dean tried to smile disarmingly.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said. "It's..uh…a matter of national security."

The way Ethel was looking at him, it was clear she was not buying it one bit. Jim nodded to the librarian and directed Dean to the staff room.

"You have an effect on people, you know," he muttered.

Dean snorted.

"You'd know about that, Detective. Sam messaged me. He found a drawing of the amulet."

He showed Jim the picture on the phone. Jim stopped and frowned.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

Jim pointed at the picture.

"There are small markings. I've seen them before."

Dean shook his head.

"I don't see any markings."

Jim gave him a pointed look.

"Trust me, they're there."

"If you say so," Dean allowed. "Where did you see them before, though?"

Jim shrugged.

"They were on a page in Svetlana's apartment. That's victim number three. I thought they were just scribbles."

Dean watched him carefully.

"But now you think she saw them before – and they're connected to Moira and to whatever she's doing."

"Seems likely," Jim agreed. "Let's see what we can find in the staff room."

Dean followed without much enthusiasm.

"I don't hold much hope. I mean, it's a staff room. Too public for her to hide something. Let's just hope Sam and Sandburg get something more concrete."

He had no idea that, as he spoke, Sam and Blair were trying to hide from Cerberus – with devastating results.

So I left Blair and Sam in quite a predicament. I wonder what will happen to them. And I wonder if Ellison and Dean are as safe as they think they are ;) Guess we'll see next week.