"Good afternoon, I'm Carl, what can I do for you today? A palm reading, perhaps?" the man said, reaching out his hand.
Dean quickly withdrew his own hands and shook his head. When he had been told he was going to have good luck in love, this hadn't been what he had in mind. Hot chicks, yes, but a guy? No way. Especially not a guy whose name was Carl and made a living as a psychic. Really, what kind of name was Carl for a psychic? Dean had always imagined something like Madam Zipinsky or Babaloo the amazing. At the very least something more mystical than Carl.
"No, I'm good in the palm department," Dean said resolutely, a plan still forming in his mind, "Actually I was wondering if you could do animal spirit connections? See, I lost this parakeet and, well, my girlfriend really misses him. I figured I'd do a little background check and search around, you know; see if there was anyone good. Normally I wouldn't, I'm not a big believer in this stiff, but she is and I don't like seeing her mope around." Bingo. Sob stories never failed.
Carl got a solemn expression and nodded knowingly, which almost made Dean loseit and laugh out loud. "Yes, I get many couples, even families, that long to reconnect with a lost pet or loved one. If you bring your girlfriend in and an object or picture that was very close to your parakeet I can contact him."
Now Dean was getting somewhere. "That sounds good. If you don't mind me asking, could I have a few examples of families you have helped or animals you've contacted? I wouldn't ask, but you know how many imposters there are these days."
Carl seemed to take serious consideration on it but finally nodded. "I suppose I can five you a few names so that you don't doubt my abilities, though I usually like to keep a client-psychic confidentiality. About 8 years ago I contacted a deceased rabbit spirit for the Jacobs, a couple of years ago there was a kitten spirit I gained contact with for the Johnson's, and most recently was about 5 months ago, maybe 6, it was the McLandon's and it was a husky. I remember that very well. The boy was a little jumpy about it, but the rest of the family was torn to pieces over the death. I assume he wasn't much of a believer either. That poor family, ever since the dog died there's been a line of deaths. To go through so much, it must be devastating."
Dean nodded and managed to keep a straight face despite his recent victory in the information department. "Yeah, sad isn't it? Well, looks like you're the real deal."
Carl pulled out a small square of cardstock and handed it to Dean. "There's my card. You and your girl can call me and we'll set up a time, okay?"
"Sure thing," Dean said, taking the card and putting it in his jacket. A psychic with a card? Dean would try to let it go.
He left the building and headed back to the hotel. Opening the door, he found Sam knee-deep in a pile of papers, books, and printouts. It looked as though his baby brother had been doing some serious research while he was gone. Maybe he had good news too.
"How'd the psychic hunt go?" Sam asked, grateful for an escape from his books.
Dean pulled the card out of his jacket and tossed it to his brother. Helaughed at the expression on Sam's face. "Yeah, Carl, I know. How messed up is that?"
"Pretty messed up," Sam mused along with his brother, leaning back to bask in his brother's genius. This was why Dean was his hero.
"Anyway, he's our guy. Totally whacko, wanted to give me a palm reading. Right, like I'd have let that guy touch my hand. Still, he contacted the spirit of the husky for the McLandon's a good 5 or 6 months ago. We're on the right track."
Sam nodded and dug through one of the piles of papers, tossing a book to the side and grabbing a single sheet, turning it right side up and scanning it until he found what he was looking for.
"According to what I've been able to find, it takes some serious dark magic to keep an animal spirit under control once it's back from the dead."
Dean took the paper from his brother and read it over himself, sighing. Just when you think you're going to get a break, maybe have a cookie or a "good job boys" thrown your way for all that you've found out, you have to get right back on track and straight to business. Don't get him wrong, Dean lived for this stuff, and he wanted to keep Sam safe as well as find his dad more than his life, but he just needed a break sometimes.
"Looks like we need to visit the family," he said, nodding towards the room's door, "Let's go."
They pulled up at the address Sam had found and Dean shut off the ignition, pulling out a couple fake I.D.s.
"What're we today?" Sam asked, and Dean threw his little brother and I.D. and put the other one in his leather jacket. Sam looked it over and smirked. "State police? How many times have we done that?"
Dean just shrugged and got out of the Impala, looking at the quaint little farmhouse next to all the farm-y things. Well, it fit with the story of the dog's death. Dean headed toward the house and replied to Sam over his shoulder. "Well, it works, so let's go."
The boys reached the door and Dean leaned forward to knock. They could hear hurried footsteps from inside and a few seconds later someone answered the door. Sam recognized him immediately as the father from the picture in the paper. The sound of other voices filtered through the door, indicating that the house wasn't entirely empty. The boys knew it was a celebration of life. The man looked at the boys from behind watery eyes and a look of confusion clouded his features. He obviously didn't recognize them, and at a time like this in your life, who needs unwanted guests?
"May I help you?" he asked wearily. Mr. McLandon had just lost his wife, and he didn't want to deal with anything else, he didn't think he could deal with anything else. Getting through it moment by moment, knowing what he had done,was hard enough.
Dean stepped up as he always did. "Yes, Mr. McLandon?" he waited for a nod before continuing as soon as it came, "I know this must be a rough time for you, and if we didn't have to we wouldn't, but we're with the state police and we've been given this case to investigate."
The puzzled look on the man's face did not disappear. If it did anything, it became more intense. "What's there to investigate? My wife was killed by a wild animal."
Dean sighed, a part of him wanting to stop at the anguish in the man's voice. It was the vulnerability in Mr. McLandon's eyes, voice, in his entire body and soul that reminded Dean why he kept his emotional walls up. It reminded him of why he played the good little soldier; taking orders, lying, and ignoring all the horrible looks he got. It was better to keep it business. He had two weaknesses, Sam and his father, and that was plenty enough for him. They were hard enough to handle as it was. Attachment was not an option. Still, sometimes those looks hit him home, and sometimes he just wanted to stop. Stop lying, stop hunting, and stop searching. Just stop and be there with Sam, all because of a look.
"That's what's being said, but there has been evidence discovered giving us reason to believe there could have been foul play."
The man waited a moment, clearly not processing the information properly (who would be able to?) before finally nodding and allowing them to come in. Dean let out a silent breath of relief and looked at Sam, letting him know without words that it was his turn to take the floor. Same gave him a mini-nod and stepped forward.
"Well, we know the basics," he started slowly, "Where your wife was found, her...condition, but was there anyone with her or nearby at the time of her death?" he finished, placing his words carefully.
The questioning was always the hardest part. Death was a touchy a subject as any, but the kind of deaths they had to pose questions for were usually ones that no one cared to relive. The pain that some people had coming in waves off of them shook Sam to his core, but he knew as well as Dean that they needed the information. They had to stop it from happening again, and they could only do that with details.
Mr. McLandon looked at the boys with renewed curiosity and then shook his head. "No, my son found her, he's just 13 you know," he stated, sounding very much like his son should not have had to bear the burden of having to find his mother. Both brothers silently agreed, knowing full well he shouldn't have had to be the one to find her, "and he said he saw something backing away; it must have been the animal."
"Daddy?" a small voice piped up around the corner and Sam's head whipped around in recollection.
"Come here Delilah," Mr. McLandon stated.
The little girl from Sam's vision ran out from behind a large flower fase and jumped into her father's arms. Dean saw the look Sam had on his face and so the elder Winchester elbowed the younger one in the ribs, which swiftly turned Sam's attention.
"That her?" Dean asked, nodding slightly toward Delilah and the father that was too preoccupied with his daughter to notice the private whispering conversation going on between the two "officers".
Sam simply nodded in response and looked back at the little girl, Delilah, as she spoke up again.
"Who're they?" she asked, teddy bear in tow as usual.
"These are policemen. They're nice; they want to know about mommy, will you go get your brother?" he said gently.
Delilah's eyes widened as she looked Sam and Dean over. Then she gave her teddy bear another squeeze and looked at her dad again. Sam cast a sideways glance at his brother before Delilah spoke up again. As hardheaded an emotionally inaccessible his brother was 99.9 of the time, kids always had a way of softening him.
"Daddy, do they know when mommy's gonna wake up again?"
Dean shifted uncomfortably at the innocence and hope behind her question. It was enough to put a hole in his walls. It was the same innocence Sam had held all those years ago, the innocence he wished his baby brother could still have today.
"Honey, I already told you….just go get Janus," the father replied, his voice cracking slightly.
Delilah sighed and nodded. Her new hope for a fresh happiness had been shot down, so now it was back to doing what her daddy told her to keep him happy. If there was one thing she hated, it was seeing her dad as sad as he had been lately. So she tugged on a curly black pigtail, trailed her teddy bear behind her and went up the stairs to get her big brother.
Delilah reached Janus' door and knocked four times in the pattern he had told her to use for the past 6 months. The voice that came from inside was distracted, but audible and very distinctly Janus at work. "Come in," was all it said.
Delilah opened the door, slipped in, and shut it behind her. "Stop reading those books JanJan, the pictures are weird and scary," she sighed pleadingly.
Janus shut the book and shoved it aside. "Oh hush, it's none of your business what I read. What's up Dee?" he asked.
"There are some cops downstairs talking about mommy and daddy told me to come get you."
Delilah chose her words as carefully as a young girl could because she knew how touchy Janus was about being questioned. Her big brother sighed and pushed away from his desk, getting up and nodding. "Alright, thanks sis."
The two walked out of his room hand in hand and Janus only cast a single backwards glance at his pile of books. He had been in the middle of something, so this damned questioning had better not take long.
Back in the living room Sam and Dean had been scrounging for as much information as they could get, but they weren't getting far. Sam opened his mouth to ask another question when Delilah reappeared at her father's side with an older boy that Sam also recognized from the picture in the paper. This had to be Janus.
"You wanted me dad?" he asked quietly. His father had been so touchy lately; it was as though he was blaming Janus for his mother's death.
Mr. McLandon nodded and gestured toward Sam and Dean. "These men are with the state police and I thought you could tell them more than I could, considering…" he trailed off again, looking down. His children didn't need to see his moment of weakness.
Janus nodded and patted his father on the shoulder half-heartedly. Dean shifted again and Sam could see a flicker of recognition in his brother's eyes. Then Janus turned to face them and took a breath, ready to recite what he had said a thousand times before.
"I found her in the backyard. Dad was out for groceries with Dee, and I was playing baseball with some friends in the yard a few houses down. I heard a noise, and I rushed home. Someone was backing away, and that's when I saw her. Just there by her garden, but she didn't look like my mom anymore…she was really messed up. There was….it was just bad, alright?" he stopped, and put on the grievingson face. He preferred to grieve in private, so he decided to excuse himself. "If that's all, I've got stuff to do."
Dean nodded. "That's all, we'd better go anyway," he replied, standing up and heading for the door, but stopping to turn around and pull a card out of his pocket, "Here, that's my cell number for when I'm not on call, if you feel like there's anything you need to tell me, call."
Janus slunk away and went back to his room. Police were pigs. A plan deviously made its way into the back of his mind and he went back to his books.