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AN: This is just a one-shot I've been thinking about for a while, and decided to finally just get it out there and get it over with. Timeline-wise, it takes place during the third season of Supernatural while Dean and Sam are still researching ways of saving Dean from his deal, during the spring of 2008.
Different Shades of Death
When Sam first discovered the reference in Dad's journal, Dean had wondered if his brother was clutching at straws. The notion of 'the living dead in Beverly Hills' had seemed like just another one of those urban legends that never actually happened even in their screwed-up world, but when Sam looked up some of the stories in more depth, even Dean had to admit that there might be something to it. People might be eager to imagine they'd seen Elvis Presley or Marilyn Monroe still hanging around, but would anyone make that big a deal about Madeline Ashton or Helen Sharp?
Frankly, Dean had been surprised that his brother even knew who the women were, when Dean hadn't even heard of either before Sam brought them up. Apparently Jess's parents had been fans of some of Madeline Ashton's early acting roles, even if the Moores all agreed that her later stuff hadn't been very good, and Sharp had apparently been some childhood friend of Ashton's, even if they hadn't spoken for some time before their mutual disappearance.
Dean would freely admit that he had fairly basic standards for his entertainment most of the time, but he still liked the occasional more detailed film, and just a brief look at Ashton's last few films had been enough to confirm that the Moores had been right. As far as he could tell, that woman just could not accept that she couldn't get away with playing the young, innocent lead any more; everything he looked up on YouTube seemed to be about her constantly trying to look far younger than she had any right to be. Dean appreciated that he didn't go to actual cinemas that often, but there was nothing wrong with women recognising that they might be able to move on from their starting roles to explore other possibilities…
He'd found even less about Helen Sharp, beyond that she'd apparently been a childhood friend of Ashton's and become an author of modest repute before suddenly disappearing in 1992, but either way, Dean had to agree with Sam's argument. Nobody would really want to imagine seeing these people as far as he could tell, so it created the possibility that the story might have had something to it. Following up on the reference in Dad's journal, they'd managed to track down the now-retired Doctor Ernest Menville and convince him that they were interested in hearing more about it. The image of two women walking around with a backwards head and a hole in their stomach respectively was morbidly amusing, but the doctor's tale was enough for them to work out exactly where the indicated mansion was.
Beverly Hills wasn't a typical destination for the Winchesters, but Bobby was able to direct them to an old house (ironically, Doctor Melville's old property) that they could stay in while they investigated the mansion themselves. Sam had to run a few searches to confirm that the property they were looking at was only inhabited for around a quarter of the year, but once they were sure what they were looking for, the Winchesters had tooled up and made their way to the mansion. Getting over the fence and into the house hadn't been that hard, as though the place relied on its secrecy rather than any real need for guards, but the two still kept their eyes and ears open as they sneaked in through a window. After walking around the house for a few moments, they found a seemingly young woman sitting in a chair in front of a large fireplace as she sipped a drink, wearing such an elaborate necklace that it made up for the fact that she wasn't wearing anything on her upper body and only a short skirt on her lower half.
"I take it you're Lisle?" Sam asked, as he and Dean pointed their guns at her.
"I am," the woman replied, looking at the intruders with a slight smile. "Can I help you with something?"
"We came here to check out a rumour," Dean replied, looking firmly at the woman. "How does this work?"
"I fear that I don't understand-"
"Cut the crap," Sam said, brandishing his gun under the woman's chin for a moment before he stood back. "We know about the whole 'forever young' thing you've got going on here, so what we want to know is how you do it? Sacrifice? Some kind of long-standing deal? A fountain of youth?"
"…Essentially," the dark-haired woman conceded.
"What; the Fountain of Youth?" Dean asked in surprise. "That's actually a thing?"
"How?" Sam said, his grip briefly tightening on the gun as he looked at her.
"A potion," Lisle explained solemnly. "Once drunk, it stops the aging process dead in its tracks; you shall never grow so much as one day older as soon as it passes your lips. All existing scars and infirmities will be healed, and you shall return to the peak of your health for as long as you exist."
"Really?" Sam looked at the dark-haired woman with new interest. "Nice…"
"And what about if we get hurt afterwards?" Dean cut his brother off, recalling Doctor Melville's tale of what he'd had to do for Ashton and Sharp after the women started attacking each other. "Like what if I… get shot? What if someone stabs me? Does that healing thing still apply after the first dose?"
"…No," Lisle conceded, with an awkward expression on her face as she looked between the Winchesters.
"So what does happen if I get hurt?" Dean continued, shooting a glance at Sam to make it clear his brother should keep this in mind. "And I'm talking about both if I just get hurt and if I get… fatally hurt."
"Standard injuries sustained after you drink the potion, from cuts to broken limbs, will heal as they would now," the woman explained. "But should you receive injuries sufficient to kill you instantly, such as a broken neck or a bullet to the heart…"
"We still die?" Sam asked.
"No."
"…What does happen?" Dean probed; Doctor Melville's tale prompted some concerns, but there was no harm in making sure what would happen from another source.
"…You would remain within your body, but you would… cease to be alive."
"Aw, crap," Dean rolled his eyes as he considered what he'd just been told. "You mean I'd become a zombie?"
"No," the woman said, as though disgusted at the very word. "You would retain your mind and soul; you would simply be existing in a body that no longer sustains life in the conventional sense-"
"'No longer sustains life'?" Dean repeated. "So I'd basically be the walking dead? As in I'd actually be decaying while I'm still walking and talking?"
"I repeat, that will only happen if you are injured-"
"And there's no way to stop it?" Dean cut her off. "Like if I got injured seriously enough that I'd be dead in a few moments but I had time to take another dose before I actually bought it?"
"No," Lisle said with a brief wince. "We tested that idea once or twice; an overdose of the potion was… not pleasant."
"Great," Dean conceded, before he looked at her with new intensity. "So what happens if I get shot in the head in this kind of state? Do I just keep existing as a brain-dead thing? What if I get caught in some kind of fire that could completely destroy my body?"
"I… will confess that I don't know," Lisle said tentatively. "For obvious reasons, my associates and I have never tested such a thing…"
"Right," Dean nodded as he looked over at Sam. "We're not doing this."
"But Dean, if you just-"
"This wouldn't stop the hounds coming for me, Sam; I'd rather not get stuck in a body that looks like I should be in a Romero movie because they can't actually take me down to Hell," Dean countered, before he turned back to look at Lisle. "Just to be sure, this stuff doesn't actually 'cost' anything apart from a lot of money?"
"No."
"No deals at crossroads or anything like that?"
"No." The woman's genuine look of confusion at that statement at least helped Dean feel slightly better about this whole situation, even if it wasn't enough to make him get over his own concerns about it.
"And everyone who drinks that stuff knows what it'll do to them?"
"I will confess that I… sometimes give the warning later, but they are all aware of the rules I enforce regarding secrecy and discretion," Lisle explained, looking uncertainly between the Winchesters. "So… you will not kill me?"
"No." Dean holstered his gun. "And so long as you're not going to force that stuff on anyone who doesn't want it… well, you're not hurting anybody to get here, so far as I'm concerned, you screw up and expose this, it's all your faults."
Sam looked disappointed as they left the mansion, but the solemn expression on his face at least gave Dean confidence that his brother agreed with his decision.
Even if the alternative was Hell, his life as a hunter offered no guarantees that he could cope with the kind of existence he'd need to live if he took that potion. Either he'd have to be so stupidly careful about getting hurt that he couldn't truly help anybody, or he'd end up having that one bad day that would destroy his life and leave him stuck in a living corpse, rotting away a little more each day.
He trusted that Sam and Bobby wouldn't abandon him, but being stuck in a body that was decaying every moment…
Some people will do anything to live forever, but there's no way in Hell I'm going to live like that.
It had been interesting to confirm this particular story, but he and Sam were going to have to pursue other avenues to get out of his deal.