Seven Devils

Chapter 17 / The Shining

"I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey."

— Homer, The Iliad

Marlene didn't remember how she fell asleep after that. Perhaps, her brain was so exhausted from overthinking that it just shut itself down. Whatever the reason, she'd at least managed to get in three hours of sleep with no Devils lurking around and no bedbugs eating her alive.

That is to say, Marley still woke up with a raging headache and spent a good thirty minuted just lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Not so long ago she was sleeping in her car and gulping down demon blood. Now she was in a small town in Kansas, staying at a pastor's house and investigating a murder. Life sure threw curveballs at you.

Marlene had to drag herself out of bed when she heard cooking noises coming from downstairs. Sam was probably awake too, had been for awhile with his rigid schedule. He'd probably already had his 10 mile run and bathed in the blue lagoon of perfection.

She pulled on her black jeans, a white top topped with a thin cardigan with tiny sunflowers embroidered on it, and headed downstairs. Only when Marley opened the door, she stepped on something crunchy, like husk. Brows furrowed, she crouched down to pick it up — it was translucent and frail, with a familiar pattern of scales. Was that snake skin?

Frown still etched on her troubled face, Marlene came down to the kitchen. It was a homey, sunlit room with a small island covered with plates of pancakes, waffles and freshly made bacon. Things were certainly looking up. Sam was standing by the sink with a steaming mug of coffee. When he noticed Marley, he sent her a half-smile and took a sip. She quirked a brow at his fancy suit.

"Good morning, Emily," Tiffany greeted her with a bright grin, "Please help yourself to breakfast." Marlene thanked her and poured herself a big cup of coffee — ah, the devine smell of your pulse skyrocketing. She glanced at Sam and frowned when she saw him scratching his neck, "Did you sleep well?"

"Best sleep I've had in years," Marley answered distractedly, watching him. Sam loosened his tie a little, "Hey, do you guys get a lot of snakes around these parts?"

"Oh, yes. Too many," Tiffany put a plate of scrambled eggs on the kitchen island, "Why? Did you see one?"

"Uh...no," Marlene replied. Sam was getting frustrated, "No, I was just wondering."

"Don't you worry, Emily. They're all pretty harmless," the girl assured her, "Could you watch the pie in the oven? It's for Meghan's school fair. She's going to kill me if I burn it and I gotta get some more flour from the pantry."

"No problem," Marley smiled.

"The sheriff called," Sam told her when Tiffany left, still fumbling with his collar, "Said he'd be here soon. Are you sure you're up for it, Marlene?"

With a very determined look on her face that threw Sam into absolute confusion, Marley stormed up to him, grabbed him by the collar and pulled it down.

"What are you doing?"

"How did you get these?" Marley breathed.

"Get what?"

Frustrated, she pushed her hair away and showed him the bites, "This."

Sam's brows furrowed. Wary, he brought a hand to his neck and found two punctures in it, "What the hell is this?"

"I got bitten last night, thought it was bedbugs or something. But then I found snake skin by my door," Marlene whispered and squinted her eyes at him, "How could you not feel that?"

Sam sighed, "I'm a heavy sleeper — "

Marley elbowed him in the ribs when Tiffany returned with a pack of flour. Sam cut her an annoyed look and then turned to the girl. She was like walking sunshine, with her bright smile and golden hair.

"Guys, Sheriff Dickson's here for you," Tiffany told them, "He said he'd be waiting in the car."

"Thank you, Tiffany," Sam nodded and looked at Marlene, "Let's go see the body."

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

The coroner — doctor Holloway, as the sheriff had introduced her — led them into the morgue. Marlene was the last to come in, shaking like a leaf from the cold and the paralysing fear. There was a single body lying on the autopsy table, under a cover.

"Charlie McCormack, fifteen years old," the coroner recited as they walked inside, "He's been dead for over 36 hours. Suffered a severe blood loss. With no physical injuries," she gave them a pointed look to stress the peculiarity of that fact.

"Could you show us the body, doc?" Dickson asked. Marlene shivered, heart thumping in her chest.

"Be my guest," the woman lifted the cover.

Charlie was a scrawny young boy who hadn't yet grown into his gangly frame. And he would never have the chance to anymore. His body was incredibly pale, almost grey, lifeless; skin as thin as parchment and patchy. Marley shuddered when she saw his peaceful face — you'd think he was just sleeping if it weren't for the blue of his lips.

She could feel Sam's concerned eyes on her and whispered a hurried "I'm fine" before walking closer to the body.

"You said something about bite marks?" Sam asked.

"Yes, on his neck," doctor Holloway gently turned Charlie's head to the side, "Here they are."

Marlene stilled when she saw them. Two small punctures in the boy's pale skin. Identical to her and...She looked at Sam and his eyes were filled with the same suspicion. Whatever'd got to Charlie, it hadn't left the town.

"So what was the cause of death? Blood loss?" he asked.

"That's what we thought at first. But then we ran some tests and found traces of snake venom in his system," doctor Holloway picked up a vial from a centrifuge, filled with opaque liquid. Marley and Sam exchanged wary looks.

"Snake venom?" Sheriff Dickson asked, incredulous.

"Yes. We stil can't figure out which one it was, Kentucky is swarmed with them. But it was definitely a snake."

"But where'd all the blood go?" Dickson wondered, looking at Sam and Marley.

"Now that's your job to figure out, isn't it?" Doctor Holloway covered Charlie's body again, "But if I didn't know better, I'd say the boy died from a snake bite."

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Dean found Marlene by the loading trucks. She was standing there alone, looking at something in the distance. When he followed her eyes, he saw Robby talking with Chuck, no doubt boring him with dinosaur trivia. Marley watched them with a wistful half-smile, her eyes filled with the sorrow that hadn't been there four years ago.

Dean was having a hard time remembering Marlene from his time. The annoying, spoiled know-it-all who'd been thrown into the middle of the apocalypse and didn't even know how to shoot a gun. No, this Marley had seen life for what it's worth — the good and the bad. Mostly bad, as of the last six years. She was armed to the teeth, a rifle thrown over her shoulder and two handguns resting in a holster on her thigh — she was dressed to fight.

"Hey," Dean walked over to her. She spared him a quick glance and turned her attention back to Robby, "I thought you weren't coming."

"I just wanted to piss you off. The other you. God, is this really happening?" Marlene shook her head in disbelief. Robby's laughter rang though the air that smelled of metal and gunpowder. She smiled.

"He...he's great, Marlene."

"He is, isn't he?" she whispered, "Sometimes I look at him and...and all I see is Sam. His hair, his dimples, his ridiculous obsession with dinosaurs," Marley and Dean both laughed.

"Yeah, he sure knows a lot of useless stuff about them."

"Oh, he knows a lot of useless stuff about everything. Don't get him started on cars, he'd talk your head off."

Dean's brows shot up, "The kid's into cars? Now that's my nephew," he smiled proudly.

Marlene's excitement dimmed, "Yeah, he, uh...he really wanted to impress you."

"What do you mean?"

"Look — " she turned to him, arms crossed over her chest, "You might've noticed we're not... on the best terms here, you and I."

Dean scoffed, "Hell yeah, I noticed."

"Well, that's because you're a dick."

"I've noticed that too," he muttered.

"And not just to your people, but to your family," Marley breathed a heavy sigh, "Dean, you can't even look at Robby. He's a kid who grew up without a father — you of all people should be able to understand that." Dean felt like she wasn't addressing him anymore, but decided to just do with it. It looked like she'd been wanting to say that for a long time, "He needs you, he loves you. And you won't event talk to him."

"Maybe...maybe he's just hurting?" he tried to reason, "I mean, with a mini Sam running around, must've been pretty rough for him."

"Did I mention he suggested using my son as a trap for Lucifer?"

Dean's brows shot up, "Alright, I'm a dick."

Marlene shook her head and pushed a stand of hair behind her ear, "Not yet you're not" she said, "At least, not entirely, from what I remember."

From what Dean remembered, he had been kind of a dick to her. Even after everything Marley'd done for them, everything she'd sacrificed, he didn't trust her. Just because her father was a piece of shit, he painted her with the same brush. Dean should've known, better than anyone, that you're not defined by your parents' sins. And here Marlene was, raising his nephew alone in a post-apocalyptic hellhole and doing a freaking incredible job at it.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

Marley frowned at his suddenly serious tone, "Alright."

"Robby said something. Something about Sam coming to wish him good night?" Dean noticed a slight change in her expression, "What'd he mean? Does he...is he like you? Like Sam? With some kind of weird mojo or — "

"No, no he's just..." Marley laughed, "He's a kid, Dean. He imagines things. Did he tell you about Sam being a dinosaur who'd swallow the Devil and save the world?"

Dean squinted his eyes slightly, not entirely buying it, but chose not to push further. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry." It wasn't his time — not his problem.

"Dean — "

"Mommy!" Robby cried out, "Mommy!"

"I'll be there in a moment, sweetheart! Sorry," she said to Dean, "Sometimes I forget he's only five. With everything that's been happening...he had to grow up really fast. But he's still just a kid."

"Yeah, Sam was like that too," Dean told her. Marlene's lower lip began to tremble, "He would've loved that kid, Marley."

She started at the nickname. Had he never called her that before?

"Dean, please — just please, don't become...him," Marlene said after a beat of silence. Dean's brows twitched together. "I...hell, I doubt my words will change anything, but I gotta try, right?" her lips stretched into a rueful smile,.

"Mommy!" Robby yelled again.

"I'm coming!" Marley yelled back, "I'm gonna say it and you have to listen, Dean Winchester, for once in your goddamn life. It didn't begin because Sam said 'yes' to Lucifer. Not really. It began much earlier," she gave him a stern look, "When you said 'no' to Sam."

With that, Marley left to get Robby who was close to throwing a tantrum of apocalyptic proportions. Winchester men. "Hey, is everything okay, buddy?" she crouched down and kissed him on his chubby cheek.

"Are you leaving to save daddy?" Robby asked timidly.

Marlene's eyes filled with tears — she was barely keeping it together at it was, "Yes, sweetheart, I'm going to save daddy," she whispered and enveloped Robby in a long hug. It could very well be the last. Marley pulled away and looked straight into his deep hazel eyes, "You're in charge of the camp now, alright?" Robby gave a dutiful nod, "Now take your dinosaurs and go back to uncle Chuck, yeah? I think he's really scared and needs your help."

"Okay," Robby said sweetly, "Love you, mommy."

"Love you, too, tweedle," Marley sobbed and sprung up to her feet. She didn't want him to see her cry. Vision blurred by the tears, she headed to one of the vehicles, wiping them from her face. It was the right thing to do. If she could just talk to him —

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean advanced on Marlene, his eyes throwing daggers, "I told you not to come."

"And I heard you," Marley retorted, "Get out of my way."

"You're not coming."

"Like hell I'm not," she tried to push past him, but Dean wouldn't budge, "I have to see him. You can't stop me."

"Marlene, think about Robby — "

She scowled, "Don't you dare go there, Dean Winchester, or I swear to God, I'm going to kill you myself."

"And how are you gonna do that, huh?" he sneered, "You've got nothing anymore."

Stubborn tears prickled her eyes again, "He's still there, Dean. I know he is," Marley whispered pleadingly.

Dean sucked in an annoyed breath, "He is gone, Marlene."

She looked him straight in the eye, lip curling in contempt, "So are you." Marley pushed him away and got into one of the trucks.

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Marlene and Sam walked up the porch steps of a small, ramshackle house that belong to the McCormack's. Marley couldn't imagine what it must've been like for them — losing a fifteen-year-old son in such a gruesome way.

Sam knocked on the door and stepped back, waiting for it to open. Marlene realised that it was the first time she actually saw Sam in action. That's what he and Dean did — dressed in cheap suits and pretended to be someone they weren't to do what had to be done. And if Marlene was feeling dreadful unease at the prospect of talking to the boy's parents, for Sam it was a common occurrence. Just rinse and repeat. How many dead bodies had he seen? When had he first witnessed death?

A moment later, Rory opened the door, frowning at the sight of his clients, "What are you two doing here?" he asked, nonplussed.

"Mister Cormack, I'm agent Broderick, this is my consultant Miss Livingston." Sam showed him the badge, "We're with the FBI. I think Sheriff Dickson mentioned us joining your son's case?"

The man stared at Sam and Marlene in quiet confusion, but then opened the door wider and stepped back to let them inside the house. It was small, yet incredibly cosy — it was a home filled with bright memories and laughter. That was now swallowed by sorrow and quiet. When Rory led them into the living room, the first thing Marley noticed was the photos displayed on the mantleshelf. They were all of Charlie.

"Liza!" Rory hollered, "The FBI are here! Sorry," he said to Sam and Marlene, "She's...she hasn't been..."

Marley gave him a reassuring smile, "We understand, Mr McCormack."

A small, withered woman walked into the living room then, a slight limp to her step. When she raised her big, sunken eyes, Marlene started. Liza's lip was split, one of her eyes sporting a purple bruise that looked stark against her pale skin, and there were stitches on her forehead. All of it looked pretty recent.

"Thank you for agreeing to talk to us," Sam told Rory and Liza. Mrs McCormack nodded wanly, and her husband helped her into an armchair. Marlene and Sam sat on the couch. "Mr and Mrs Cormack, could you tell us about the day leading up to Charlie's passing? Anything...strange? Out of the ordinary?"

Rory glanced at his wife. She was looking at the mantlepiece, "He left for school that mornin', like any other day. Liza got a call from the principal around noon, saying that he hadn't been in any of his classes. We tried callin' him but...he wouldn't pick up him damn phone. See, our Charlie...he — he was a good boy. He was," the man said, voice thick with emotion, "It's what teenagers do, ain't it? Cookin' up trouble, playin' hooky. We thought it was normal, ya know? He was always like that. Too big for this damn town."

Liza's face crumpled as a suppressed sob wrecked her frail body, "I p-prayed for him...every n-night I p-prayed for him..." Rory wrapped an arm around her. Marley turned to Sam and gave him a meaningful look. He frowned in puzzlement. Marlene let out a sigh and very discretely pointed to Liza's face.

"Uh, Mrs McCormack..." Sam said hesitantly, "How did you get those injuries?"

Liza and her husband exchanged looks, a silence conversation taking place between the grieving parents. Rory took his wife's hand and squeezed it tightly, giving her a firm nod.

"As my husband said...we hadn't seen Charlie all day," she all but whispered in a broken, trembling voice, "Later that evening, I was fixing up dinner for when he finally came home, Rory was in the garage. Charlie, he — " Liza covered her mouth to suppress a sob.

"It's alright, Mrs McCormack," Marlene told her gently, "take your time."

"You can tell them, honey," Rory whispered.

The woman let out a shaky breath, "It was around midnight when he...he stormed into the house and ran up straight to his room without a word. I thought — I thought he had been drinking with his friends again, and I went upstairs to take to him," she looked at Sam and Marley, "But he wasn't...he — we had a fight — oh Lord," Liza started crying, "I can't, Rory, I can't..."

"We understand how difficult this all must be for you," Sam said, "But every piece of information could help us find whoever killed your son." Or whatever.

Holding his wife's shaking body, Rory looked at Marlene and Sam, sorrow morphing into anger at the mention of his son's killer, "She got all of it from Charlie," he told them.

Sam frowned in bewilderment, "What do you mean?"

"I mean he pushed his momma down the stairs and ran off," Rory said gruffly, "And we never saw him again."

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Sam's eyes were glued to the computer screen as he scrolled through a website on snake lore. It was the only lead they had so far — a mysterious creature who poisoned the victim with its venom and them...suck out their blood. Sam had never encountered anything like that before and neither had his father — he hadn't found any clues in John's journal.

Marlene was idly playing with a straw in her glass, humming a catchy tune that would get stuck in Sam's head for the entire day. He glanced up at her, then back at the screen, then at Marley again, his right leg shaking in annoyance. Finally, Sam breathed a heavy sigh, "Marlene?"

"Yes?"

"Can you stop singing?"

"Sure thing," she grinned and dropped the straw, "So, did you find anything?"

"No," Sam rubbed his face in frustration, "Nothing. I found a couple of maybe's but they use venom to paralyse their victims. Here...here it's like a ticking bomb that slowly drives you mad. Charlie got bitten and almost killed his mother."

"Yeah, but he was a troubled kid. It could've been an accident," Marley pointed out, "But if you're right...it means it's affecting us the same way," she narrowed her eyes at Sam, "Do you feel crazy yet?"

"Not yet. But we still don't know how long it takes for the venom to kick in."

"Charlie's bite looked pretty recent," Marley said, shivering from the memory, "There was still blood in the punctures."

Sam sighed and shut his laptop, "Well, then we have to act quickly — "

The sound of glass hitting a wall thundered through the small diner, "Stick that stake up your ass, Billy!" a waitress yelled and hurled another plate at the manager, "Fuck you, you piece of shit!"

She snatched two plates from the cooking station and headed to...oh, wonderful. Marley and Sam exchanged equally wary glances and then smiled at the waitress.

"Your salad," she all but dropped the plate on the table. A little cherry tomato rolled away. Marley glanced at Sam and found him staring at the girl's...cleavage? Seriously? "Your waffles," the mountain of double whipped cream shuddered, "Bon appetite," the waitress sneered.

"Wait!" Sam called. Marlene gaped at him. Was he for real?

The girl turned back, "What?"

"How did you get that bite?" Sam pointed to her neck. Well, that explained it. Marley tried to discretely squint at it — sure enough, there were two little punctures.

The waitress narrowed her eyes at him, "Wouldn't you like to find out, you perv!" Sam blushed much to Marlene's amusement, "Shut up and eat your goddamn food, or I'll bite your ass, you hear me?" With that, she walked away from the table to terrorise other customers.

"Very smooth, Sam," Marley drawled sarcastically, "Now you gotta tip her well or she'll deliver on her promise." Sam gave her a pointed look. Marlene raised her hands in surrender.

"Did you see it? The bite?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Seems like our little monster decided to stay here awhile."

"I'm gonna call Bobby. Maybe he'll find something," Sam stood up, "I'll be right back."

Marley watched him from the window. He was pacing near the parking lot, the same troubled expression on his face. Why had he left the diner? Couldn't he just talk here? Marley's brows furrowed at the thought. What were they talking about? Her? He's probably telling Bobby about me. What would Dean do if he found out? He'd think I'm a freak. No, Sam would never do that. They were just talking about the case. Were they?

Sam hung up the phone and walked back to the diner. He slid into the booth, "Bobby said he'd take a look, asks around."

"That's great," Marley droned, rolling a piece of strawberry on her plate.

Sam shot her a concerned look, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly cheerful, "Yes, everything's peachy. Eat your salad, or it's gonna get cold."

Sam rolled his eyes, two dimples appearing on his face, and dug in.

He's lying.

something very strange is happening in this town...