A/N: Yo, yo! Hopefully, you guys are out there, staying safe and gearing up for those final few episodes. Which I am conflicted about, but I think we all are. Anyway, I've been working on this story for a really, reaaaly long time but here we are! Hopefully, it is something you enjoy, this chapter is more of a lead-in but I promise that things pick up quickly.
If you feel so inclined, I would love to hear what you have to say (or if this story is even worth continuing)!
Set in Season 3.
Disclaimer: not mine.
The Face of Fear
Chapter One
"What can I get for you guys?"
"Ah…yeah, I'll get the…" Dean paused, letting his eyes roam up and down the waitress as his lips turned upwards in a smile that had Sam averting his eyes and planting his face in one hand. "I'll get the double bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries, Maddie. Oh, and extra onions." He leaned back, handing her the menu as her face flared bright red. She ducked her head, jotting the order down.
Sam screwed his face up apologetically as he passed her his as well. "I'll just get the number six, thanks."
"Anything else?" They both shook their heads, but Maddie's face was still bright pink when she disappeared through the swinging doors that led back into the kitchen. Dean's eyes trailed after her and Sam smacked his arm roughly.
"Dude, hunt."
"Oh, I'm hunting alrigh'…" Dean stared after the door for a second longer before twisting in his seat to face Sam. Sam stared at him with disbelief bleeding across his face. Dean grinned. "What?"
"You're hopeless." Shaking his head, Sam pulled out a file overflowing with papers. He began to sort through them, choosing several at seemingly random and spreading them out across the tabletop.
"I'm so not the one that is hopeless here. No, what I am is good, so much so that I bet you ten bucks that I have her number before we leave," Dean said idly as he accepted the papers Sam shoved his direction, glancing down with just as much, if different, interest. Sam huffed loudly, shaking his bangs out of his eyes, and leaned across the table to tap the files Dean was holding.
"So, that there is the coroners' report, most of it is stuff that we already knew, but get this—this time the spleen is missing." Sam also pulled out his phone and flipped it around. "And I found these on the body, that, right there, look at it…" He handed the phone across the table and watched as Dean's eyes widened just a fraction.
"Are those—" he looked up at Sam who was nodding.
"Teeth marks, human teeth marks."
Dean slid the phone back, his lip curling up in disgust. "That's so gross. And right before lunch, man." Tugging his tie loose, Dean glowered across the table as Sam made a show of rolling his eyes. They both knew that it took much more than that to put Dean off his appetite.
"That still doesn't tell us what it is. Well, human-ish, that much is clear, but beyond that we still got nothing."
They sat in silence, Dean idly tapping his fingers against the tabletop as he read and Sam gazing off through the window, lost in thought.
"Demons…?" he finally threw out, but Dean was already shaking his head.
"What on earth would they need a spleen for? Or a lung, or an eyeball or whatever else it was that the bodies were missing." Dean began to shift rapidly through the papers, his brow furrowing in thought before he suddenly sucked in a breath and threw the pile down. Sam looked up, gesturing for Dean to continue when he only grinned.
"Witches."
"Witches?" Sam echoed, his brow furrowing as his mind jumped through the possibilities before agreeing with a slight nod. "That very well could be. I mean, it makes sense and explains the missing body parts, though why they are chewing on their victims…that's a little out of the ordinary, isn't it?"
"Oh, c'mon Sammy, witches are already a few nuts lose. Do they need a reason?" Dean shuddered dramatically, muttering under his breath decidedly choice words against witches.
Sam snorted a laugh. "Well, this time can't be worse than that witch in Kentucky."
Dean shot Sam a baleful look. "Scarred. That whole fiasco left me scarred for life and—"
They both fell silent as Maddie approached, balancing a tray in her hands.
"Well that all looks just amazing, sweetheart." Dean flashed his best smile, his eyes never leaving her face. Her mouth curled upwards as she set Sam's salad in front of him before turning to Dean.
"Well, enjoy the look because you aren't getting anything else," she said pointedly as set his plate down with a firm touch that echoed back into her voice. Dean blinked in surprise.
"Darlin', I was just paying the highest of compliments to such a fine person as yourself."
Maddie shrugged a little, playing restlessly with the pocket of her apron as her cheeks turned pink. "Look, let's cut the crap. I'm flattered, trust me, but not right now, okay?" Giving Dean a small smile, she gestured towards the food before hurrying away and towards a table at the opposite end of the diner.
Dean pointedly did not look at Sam as he snatched for the ketchup.
"Dude, she just turned you down flat." The laughter was clear in Sam's voice as Dean began to squirt an amazing amount of ketchup onto his plate. "I mean, can't say that I blame her, but hey, I'm ten dollars richer."
Dean's head shot up, his eyes narrowing into slits. "Did you—did you just insult me and ask for money at the same time? Besides, I recall saying that it had to be by the time that we left. And if you haven't noticed, we're still here."
Sam shook his head fondly, brandishing one of the files in Dean's direction. "No, no, no. You owe me ten bucks because there is no way in hell that you are getting her number anytime soon. Give it up."
Dean jammed a fry into his mouth, grumbling under his breath before digging out his wallet and dumping out all his spare change.
Sam continued to smile, accepting the handful of coins and crumpled one-dollar bills and making a show of counting it himself. Dean watched him, something softening in his eyes. Sam's smiles were few and hard to come by nowadays, so even if it did come at Dean's own expense…
"Oh, shudup and eat your salad, Samantha."
They ate in silence, both staring at the files laid out before them. Or rather, Dean ate. Sam picked through his with little interest, as he flipped from one file to the next.
"Son of a bitch,' Dean said suddenly around a mouthful of meat and cheese, the surprise clear. "I think I know how all the victims are connected." Sam sat up straight, fully listening. "I mean, don't get me wrong I was confused as I'll get out when I was talking to the victim's families. None of them knew each other, they didn't go to the same school, none of their friends were the same. Just none of that usual crap," he paused, swallowing a mouthful from his coffee mug. Sam rolled a hand at him impatiently. "But I was looking at their credit card statements just now, and I realized something. It turns out that they all went to the same gym, Rucker's. Hell, the first guy to disappear, Mike, actually worked the front desk."
"Rucker's?" Sam paused before snatching out another file on a Lilly Hannon and flipping through it to the credit card statement, his own eyes widening. "But…"
"I know, what would a witch be doing in a gym. Lifting weights? I mean, she does have to ensure that she can continue to drag bodies around. Deadweight isn't exactly light." Dean examined a slightly burnt fry before shoving it into his mouth with a shrug.
But Sam had now dropped his fork, pushing his plate away as he eagerly pawed through the papers. "It makes sense, though, in a weird sort of way. Think about it, you would see the same people every day, know their routine and everything, but there is no personal connection to tie back to you, not without some digging. Huh."
"Now we just need to figure out who she is," Dean pointed out and Sam nodded absently, his mind no doubt already working through 1,001 ways to kill a witch.
Sam stifled a yawn, wiping a hand over his face before beginning to thrust everything back into his bag.
"So to Rucker's?"
"Yeah, but hold your horses there, bucko. I'm not done yet." Dean reached for the ketchup again and Sam cocked an eyebrow. "What? My fries don't have enough salt on them, I'm just trying to give them some flavor!"
"Well, your heart, for one, thanks the cook." Sam stood up, tossing his napkin onto the table. "I'm gonna hit the head." Dean nodded as Sam left, his mouth once again full of french fries.
"Do you think you could fit any more in?"
Dean swallowed hard, his face flushing as he looked up at Maddie, who had wandered over with the check. "He's in a rush and I'm hungry!" he defended, gesturing back at the direction that Sam had gone.
She shook her head, holding out a Styrofoam box. "That's what these things are for, dumbass." Dean took it with a grumble, scratching a hand across the back of his neck. When Maddie didn't immediately leave, he glanced back up to find her standing there, biting at her lower lip hesitantly.
"What?" Dean's hand ghosted up to his face, wiping subconsciously at his mouth.
"Are you with the FBI?" Maddie blurted out before flushing and taking a small step back. "I mean, are you here looking into all those deaths? I kinda overheard you two talking about them as I was passing by, and well…" Her hands were twisting nervously in her apron again and she refused to look him in the eye as she pushed her hair back behind her ear.
Dean straightened, fries forgotten, and pulled his suit coat back from where he had flung it across the bench and pulled out his badge. He flipped it open, allowing her to take it before gesturing for her to take Sam's seat across from him. "Do you have something you want to tell me, Maddie?"
She paused again, her eyes darting around the small diner. "Not really, well, maybe?" She grimaced but Dean motioned for her to continue and she took a deep breath. "I—I used to take a class with one of the girls, Lily, Lily Hannon, but it wasn't like I knew her super well. I hadn't even talked to her since then, you know? Again, this is really small and stupid so don't get your hopes up, but it's just that ever since I heard about how she was murdered it's been bugging me."
Dean nodded, his eyes boring steadily into hers. "Trust me, we won't think that whatever you have to say is weird or strange. We'll believe you."
Maddie attempted a half-smile. "I was out hiking the old mountain trails last Thursday and I was coming off one of them when I bumped into her."
"Wait—" Dean interrupted. "Wasn't she reported missing early Friday morning?"
She nodded, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. "But Lily hated hiking and she looked…freaked? She didn't want to talk, wouldn't even say hi to me and that was nothing like her. She just brushed past me like she was in some great hurry. Lily was freaked about something, I am almost positive looking back." Maddie laughed a little, her face flushing. "Now that I've said it, I feel really dumb. That probably doesn't help at all. I'm sorry for wasting your time, agent."
Dean worked to keep the surprise from off his face as her story came to an end. He had been expecting something a little bit…stranger. "No, no, you're fine. Have they looked at those old trails for any sign of violence or the other bodies?" He knew that Lily's body had turned up in the middle of town but that had clearly been a dump site rather than the actual murder scene.
Maddie flinched at the mention of a body but shook her head. "I don't think so. They didn't see the need and besides, it's probably nothing. I think I'm just freaked out that I saw her only hours before she was killed. Sorry again," She stood quickly and slid the bill across to him, clearly flustered.
Dean stood as well, waving away her embarrassment. "You're good. One last question, though. Do you go to Rucker's?"
She raised her eyebrows at that but shook her head. "I don't even know where that is."
"Good. Don't change that. Here, how about we exchange numbers so that we can call you if we have any more questions, alright?" Dean extended his hand, a calling card in-between two fingers. Maddie nodded, hurriedly scrawling her number on a napkin before pointing at the Styrofoam box.
"Don't forget," she ordered, before making a hasty retreat through the swinging doors.
Sam reappeared a moment later. "Finish your fries?" He grabbed his jacket from the bench and shrugged into it.
"Oh, yeah." Dean turned to face him, his smile stretching wide enough to show all his teeth. "Give me back my ten bucks, man."
"What? No, dude, I won that fair and square." Sam grabbed his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and heading for the door. He stopped in surprise as Dean waved the napkin in his face and Dean reveled in his expression as his mouth opened and shut.
"I was gone for like, two minutes, at most. She was not into you before that, how…"
Dean threw his head back, laughing as he led the way out the door. "What can I say? The ladies can't resist the charm of Dean Winchester. Give me back my money, man."
Sam made a face, his nose scrunching up in annoyance, and Dean could almost see the arguments flashing through his brain before he finally admitted defeat and began to dig into his pocket.
Dean chuckled appreciatively as he slid in behind the wheel. Draping an arm over it, he lightly tapped his thumb against the ridge before heaving a sigh. "So, confession," he admitted as he turned the key, "Maddie gave me her number because she was one of the last people to see the Hannon girl alive."
"HA!—I knew that she didn't like you." Sam held his hand out but Dean slapped it back down.
"I still got her number and we never said that she had to like me. Besides, aren't you interested in what she had to say?" Sam paused, his lips puckering before indicating for Dean to continue. "To be fair, she didn't know much but she said that she saw Lily hiking out on some old trails and she was apparently acting strange. Also wasn't one for hiking."
Sam didn't look impressed. "Hiking, huh? I don't know man. I think that the gym is a better lead at this point." All the same, he was scrambling through the glove box, looking for the map of the town that they had picked up when they first rolled in. A minute later, he was leaning across to show Dean. "Those trails aren't even close, about an hour drive, I would estimate."
"So gym and research?" Dean turned the key, letting his baby purr loudly under his hand as Sam gave a distracted nod of agreement.
#
Dean stepped back from the wall, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Something about this all feels…off," he grunted, looking at the pictures, the sticky notes, and papers spread out across the map that was tacked to their wall.
"Think you can nail it down to more than a feeling?" Sam looked up from where he sat hunched over the computer.
"If I had, I would have led with it, genius." Dean flopped back on the bed, staring at the wall. "We drilled whats-his-face—"
"—Allen—"
"—Allen pretty good. Nothing has been going on at the gym unless you count Mike's disappearance, but he wasn't even at the gym when it happened. He had been off for a few days."
"But if the witch is just hanging out there, there wouldn't be anything," Sam supplied. He leaned back, rubbing at his eyes tiredly.
"I don't know. I still say something feels off."
Sam nodded seriously. He knew better than to take his brother's instincts for granted. Hell, they had saved his life more than once, that was for sure. He cocked his head to the side, watching as Dean gathered up his duffle, searching for fresh clothes.
"Where you goin'?"
"I need a break, man, I'm going crazy staring at those pictures. I'm gonna shower and then hit that bar up the road, maybe hustle in some extra dough. You wanna come?" Dean's lips quirked up hopefully but Sam was already shaking his head, his eyes returning to the screen.
"I'm going to do some more research."
"On the missing people, right?" There was a knowing tone to Dean's voice and Sam's eyes remained firmly locked on whatever it was he was reading. No, of course, he wouldn't be looking into how to break Dean's deal, it wasn't like Dean had sold his soul for him or anything. It wasn't like Sam was going to sit by and just wait for him to die and it certainly wasn't like he was terrified right down to his very soul of losing Dean.
"Uh-huh," he mumbled noncommittedly. Dean was silent as he continued to gather up his clothes but as he passed Sam on the way to the bathroom, he paused briefly.
"Don't do that all night," he admonished, his hand finding Sam's shoulder and squeezing.
"Yeah, okay." Sam was typing at a speed that would have put a professional to shame, his eyes squinting to take everything in better. Dean heaved a sigh, patting his shoulder roughly, before entering the bathroom.
It was just after three in the morning when Sam leaned back in his chair, rubbing ferociously at his aching eyes in an attempt to get them to focus correctly before glancing back at the screen. He had a whole bunch of nothing, both the missing people or how to break Dean's contract.
Tugging a hand through his hair, he bent closer to the screen, squinting in the dim light. He was close, surely. Sooner or later he had to stumble across something that would help, he just needed to dig a little harder, a little deeper, just a little longer…
But right now, he needed to change his focus, just for half an hour, so that he could get some fresh ideas flowing.
Pulling the complementary notepad back towards him, Sam angled it towards the light and began to flip back through the notes he had made about the witch, if it was a witch, and her pattern but the words were blurring and making little sense. His own journal with the much more precious notes on Dean's case sat next to the laptop, ready and waiting for use if something sparked.
Dean let out a soft snore and Sam glanced over at him, watching as he rolled over in his sleep. Dean had left for the bar hours ago, only stumbling in just after two tipsy and brandishing a roll of money before collapsing onto the bed completely dressed. Sam had surfaced long enough to cajole Dean out of his jacket and boots before throwing a blanket over him and returning to the table. The old, thick books that he had borrowed from Bobby had been neatly stowed back in his bag and away from his brother's curious glances.
Sam's eyes wandered back to them as Dean continued to snore and Sam shook himself, digging one of them back out and moving closer to the dim light that the screen was giving off. The thought of Dean's deal was a better energizer than coffee and he was just flipping to the section about a demon named Enlil when the soft squeal of rock music began to echo through the room.
"Dean. Phone." Sam called over his shoulder, scribbling tiny letters onto the bottom of a page, trying to get it all to fit. The sounds died and Sam flipped a page, running his finger down the text. The sound started up again and Sam raised his head. Dean was curled up on his side, head under a pillow.
Shoving back his chair, Sam fumbled for Dean's jacket and began to scour through the pockets. Yanking out the vibrating phone, Sam flipped it open and nestled it between his ear and shoulder as he grabbed his pen again.
"Hello?"
For a moment there was silence and Sam repeated the question distractedly, his mind still on the book.
"Agent Banner?" The voice on the phone was hesitant, scared, and vaguely familiar and Sam was suddenly at full alert, his book forgotten.
"Yeah, who is this?" he asked, his voice gentler this time even as he transferred the phone to his hand and moved across the room, shaking Dean's arm. There was a suppressed sob on the other side of the line and Sam pressed the phone harder against his ear, his own adrenaline beginning to pick up.
"Maddie, from the diner. You've got to—you've got to help me!"
"Wha's goin' on?" Dean mumbled from the bed, looking up at Sam through bleary eyes. Sam jerked his head towards the door, already moving to gather up his own boots.
"Maddie, we're gonna help you, alright? Now, I need you to be calm and take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?" There was a shuddered gasp from the other end as Sam bent over to tie the laces of his boots and then reached across the table to shove his gun into the back of his jeans. "Good, now are you safe enough to talk. If not that's alright, we'll figure it out."
"I don't know, maybe—I think so. Agent, I don't know where I'm at." Over the phone came the sounds of more tears and Sam met Dean's eyes over the beds.
"We're coming to find you, Maddie, I swear. Just stay on the line for as long as you can and tell us anything that might clue us in on where you are at." Dean was throwing his jacket on, snatching up their duffle full of weapons as he headed for the door and Sam followed suit.
There was silence and Sam waited with bated breath.
"I—I'm in some sort of cabin, I think. Out on the mountain." There was a loud crashing sound and Sam froze, his heart pounding hard enough for him to feel it as Maddie let out a shriek.
"Maddie? Maddie, are you there, are you alright?"
"Sorry, I uh, I knocked something over. I don't know what, it's too dark. Oh…" Maddie's voice faded out and Sam threw a startled look at Dean, who was watching him with worried eyes.
"She says that she's in a cabin on the mountains," he hissed to his brother who nodded. "Maddie?" he asked urgently as he pulled open the door to the Impala. The car rumbled to life, Dean spinning the wheel aggressively.
"Agent?" Maddie's voice had risen an octave, her voice hoarse with panic and fear.
"I'm here," Sam assured lightly.
"There…There's a body. A dead body." Maddie gave a strained laugh, sounding close to hysteria and Sam squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the phone against his forehead momentarily.
"What's happening?!" Dean demanded, the car increasing rapidly in speed as they headed out of town and towards the hiking trails that Maddie had pointed out earlier. Sam ignored him, focusing on Maddie.
"Alright, just…have you checked for a pulse?" For a moment there was silence on the phone and Sam and Dean shared a dark look.
"There's no pulse. She's not breathing."
Sam felt a wave of regret flood him but pushed it aside. "Okay, just don't focus on her. You need to worry about getting yourself out right now. Is the witch—uh, whoever took you right there?" Sam held his breath, his free hand subconsciously bracing against the dashboard as Dean took a flying turn.
"No." Maddie sounded a little more confident with that answer and Sam clung to it.
"Good. Try the door and if that doesn't work, a window. You've got to get out, any way possible, okay? We're coming as fast as we can but you need to leave." Sam cocked his head to the side, trying to decipher what was happening from the muffled shuffling and scrapes.
"Sam…?" Dean asked urgently from his side, sending Sam a sideways glance.
"She's looking for a way out," Sam whispered, covering the phone with one hand. Dean's grip on the steering wheel only tightened, his foot pressing a little harder on the gas.
"Agent?"
"Yeah, I'm here." Sam twisted the phone back to his mouth. "Are you out?"
"There was a window in the back that was unlocked. I'm—I think I was in the old Clintwood cabin. I mean, I've never actually been out here but I've heard rumors of it, and it looks like the pictures that I've seen—"
Sam listened to her ramble, comprehending the knowledge and shuffling through what he already knew. Sometime before midnight he had looked into the trails, just out of curiosity, and had read brief mentions of an old settler cabin that had been abandoned near the top of the mountain. Now it was just used as a path marker, but it could have been an ideal place to practice spell work.
"That's real good, Maddie, you're doing great. Follow the road, but stay off of it, does that make sense? It will make you harder to spot if they come back. My partner and I will be there as soon as we can, but if it really is Clintwood's old cabin then it's gonna take us a couple of hours to get there."
"I can do that, the—" The shrill scream split Sam's eardrum and he jerked away reflexively before jamming the phone closer.
"Maddie?! Maddie, c'mon, are you alright? What happened? Answer me, damnit!" Sam was half out of his seat, listening intently, but there was only silence on the other end. A moment later, a short click sounded as the call disconnected.
"Sonofa—" Sam threw the phone onto the seat, washing a hand over his face before gripping a fistful of his hair tightly.
"What happened?" Dean tore his gaze from the road, his own eyes wide. "C'mon speak to me, man!"
Sam shook his head, his breathing heavy. "She escaped, Dean, and then she was screaming and someone ended the call. That's all I know."
Dean swore loudly, slapping the steering wheel. "How far out are we?"
"About another thirty minutes to the trailhead, but from there, we have to hike in. It's going to be another three hours minimum. I was looking into this more closely when I hit a dead end with the gym. That Cabin? Some dude built it in the 1800s in an attempt to get away from civilization. It's near the top of the mountain."
Dean shoved a cassette tape in without looking at what it was and twisted the volume up as loud as it would go.