A/N – In honor of last night's episode featuring the one and only Sheriff Mills, I decided I'd post early. I'll probably be in a turkey coma Friday anyway, so why not post early?
Chapter song: Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade
This is not what I intended. I always swore to you I'd never fall apart. You always thought that I was stronger. I may have failed, but I have loved you from the start.
Chapter 12
Bella shivered as her feet hit the cold tile floor of the bathroom. Gripping the towel tight around her chest with one hand, she reached for the doorknob and turned it. The cool air of the apartment hit her naked flesh, causing goosebumps to appear along her arms and legs. She padded across the hardwood floor, through the living area, making her way to the bedroom where she'd left her bag.
Dean had been sitting on the small sofa, too consumed with his thoughts to notice the shower had stopped. He caught the flash of pale skin out of the corner of his eyes. Dean would have loved to see Bella naked, but spying on her was just wrong. It was bad enough he already felt like a perv, staring at those pictures, allowing images of her to creep into his mind. He'd meant to clear his throat as a warning so she'd know she wasn't alone, but it backfired. Bella's instinct and training took over. She dropped the towel, lunged for the nightstand, and pulled out her .45, racking the slide.
Standing there in all her naked glory, aiming her pistol at the intruder, Bella had fulfilled Dean's deepest fantasies. It took every ounce of strength Dean possessed to turn away. He put a hand up over his face and spun around.
"Jesus, Bella!"
"Dean?"
Bella sighed when she realized there was no longer a threat in the room. The loud clank of metal bounced off the walls as Bella emptied the chamber and then put the gun back in the drawer of the nightstand.
Dean shook his head, a smirk twisting his lips. She continually amazed the shit out of him, and it wasn't just because her tits were better than he could have ever imagined—perky and full with pretty pink nipples … He swallowed thickly, her tight stomach begging to be licked; long, lean legs that went on for miles. A low rumble in his chest worked its way out until he chuckled darkly. Bella cared more about gun safety than clothing her body. He gave her a moment to get decent, but it was more for his own benefit so he wouldn't throw her down on the bed and take her like he really wanted to. When the rustling stopped, he figured it was safe … for the both of them.
He spun around and was met with a semi-dressed Bella. At least she had a shirt on; granted it was a flimsy, threadbare T-shirt that hugged the curve of her breast and revealed her hardened nipples. Dean let out a sigh and looked down. That was worse. Where the hell were her pants? Tiny, white bikini briefs barely covered that sacred spot between her legs. For Christ's sake it almost looked like she was completely naked from the waist down she was so pale. From the glimpse he caught before, he knew she was bare under the soft cotton, and that only made the stiffness in his pants more painful.
"Will you put some clothes on!" The words were gruff and burned Dean's throat.
Bella instantly bristled at his tone. "I can't find my pants!" She turned back around and started rummaging through her bag.
Dean came up to her side and started tossing things on the bed and floor. "They've got to be here somewhere. Things don't just disap …"
She turned to face him, her brows knitted together with worry. "What?"
He shook his head, lips pressed tightly in a thin line. "Nothing." Dean walked over to his bag hanging on the back of the door and handed her a pair of black sweatpants. "Here."
Bella took the pants from him and smiled. "Thanks."
Sliding them up her legs and pulling them over her hips, she yanked the drawstring as tight as it would go. They were swimming on her and the bones of her hips stuck out over the top of the waistband. Dean had a hard enough time calming himself down after he saw her naked, but seeing her wearing his clothes only made him harder.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.
Dean still had his back to her so she came up behind him and waited for an answer. The clean smell of soap mixed with her hot breath at his neck made him clench his fists.
"Come on, Dean." She laughed softly. "It's nothing you haven't seen before …"
He spun around and met her eyes. There was a lightness in the deep, brown depths. That tough exterior he was used to had faded and it made his heart stutter.
"It's not that … " He rubbed the back of his neck, this new Bella slightly disarming. Bella raised an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth tilted upward. "Alright, it's part of it."
Bella smiled, her cheeks filling with faint pink. He had the hots for Bella; his body wouldn't let him forget that every time she was near, but it was when she let her guard down, when she was vulnerable, that made her painfully beautiful. What happened back in that hallway—the truth of his words, the way she looked at him and he just knew she could see inside of his soul—something was happening between them and Dean didn't know if he could stop it, or if he wanted to anymore.
He reached out and brushed her cheek with his thumb. "You gotta stop blushing like that, sweetheart. You have no idea what it does to me."
Taking a step closer she ground her hips into his. "I think I do." Bella smiled, looking up at him from under her lashes.
Dragging his thumb across her face, letting it rest on her mouth, Dean tugged at her plump lower lip. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose while Bella held hers in her chest. Her heart stopped beating, waiting for the kiss she'd been thinking about since the hallway.
Dean let his hand fall to his side and he let out a long sigh. "I can't kiss you, Bella."
Eyes downcast, her face filled with hurt. Voice barely a whisper, she asked, "Why?"
Bella hated herself for how weak she sounded. This was exactly what she was afraid of. That broken little girl in the woods scratched at the surface. She spent the past ten years burying her so deep even an earthquake wouldn't set her free. Then came Dean Winchester, and every wall she had put up came crashing down.
Gripping her by the chin, Dean lifted her face until her eyes met his. She could see this was hurting him as much as her. His voice was low and husky. "I can't kiss you because I won't stop."
Bella stood up on her tiptoes, brushing her lips against his as she spoke softly. "I don't want you to."
A loud bang startled the both of them and Sam burst through the door, slamming it behind him. He took in the scene in front of him and looked away.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, but there are cops outside. Another girl disappeared."
"Shit." Dean tore away from Bella and stalked over to Sam. "This is bad."
Bella took a minute to compose herself, smoothing her hair behind her ear and walking over to the kitchen table to pick up her notebook.
"We've dealt with angry spirits before," Sam explained.
"Not like this …" Dean looked over to Bella's direction. "He's stronger than any spirit we've been up against. He can somehow manifest himself and actually take these girls, among other things. He took Bella's pants."
"What?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows.
"She came out of the shower and they were gone. We tore this whole room apart looking for them."
Sam looked at the clothes strewn across the bed, a bra hanging off a chair. "Riiight …"
"Dammit, Sam! I'm being serious."
Overhearing their conversation, Bella walked over to them. "I don't understand how spirits can actually take things, like my pants … or girls … Aren't they transparent?"
Dean chuckled darkly. "We ain't dealin' with Casper, sweetheart."
Sam sighed before explaining. "Spirits are here because they either refuse to move on or have unfinished business. When they've been around for a while, they start to lose sight of what kept them here in the first place. They start to get angry and they can tap into that pure, red-hot rage to make an astral projection. They can touch, and feel, and fight."
"So you're saying we're dealing with someone that's been dead for quite some time."
"I'd say at least fifty years," Sam said.
Bella started looking down her list of the names of everyone that had contact with the building from 1924 on. Dean moved behind her, the heat from his body causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise.
"We already went through this," he said. "The building's clean."
A thought crossed her mind and she spun around, crashing into Dean's chest. He grabbed her by the hips and stilled her. She rushed past him and grabbed a print out of an old photograph. Gripping it in her hands, she walked back over and stood between Dean and Sam.
"Maybe we're looking in the wrong place." They looked down and the picture and waited for Bella to continue. "Check this out."
Sam took a closer look. "The field?"
"It's where this building was built. Take a look next door."
"Great!" Dean snatched the picture out of Bella's hands. "We're next door to a freakin' prison."
Both Sam and Dean knew how dangerous spirits could be, but the spirit of a known criminal only made the case that much worse. Bella was already on the phone with Town Hall asking for a history of the area. Just as soon as she hung up, her phone pinged with all the records she requested.
"Okay. Moyamensing prison. Built in 1835, torn down in 1963. And get this. They used to execute people by hanging them in the empty field next door."
"So we need a list," Sam said, looking up from his laptop. Bella smiled, typing away at her phone. Sam's computer alerted him to a new email. "How did you …"
Smirking, she shrugged. "I'm good."
Sam started scrolling through the names. "There's a lot of ground to cover …" He paused over a name that stood out. "Herman Webster Mudgett," he repeated over a few times. "Why does that name sound so familiar … wasn't that … H.H. Holmes' real name?" He looked over to Bella and Dean for confirmation.
"You've gotta be kiddin' me!" Dean spat.
"It has to be him," Sam added. "I mean what are the odds?"
"Wait," Bella said. "Who is this guy?"
Dean raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile on his face. "What's the matter? They didn't have Serial Killer 101 at The Academy?"
Bella narrowed her eyes at him. Before he just thought she was just an insufferable bitch. Now he couldn't help but smile at how cute she was when she got angry.
He took a step closer to Bella, wanting nothing more than to kiss that glare off of her face. "The term multi-murderer … They coined it to describe Holmes. He was America's first serial killer, before anybody knew what a serial killer was.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, he confessed to twenty-seven murders, but some put the death toll at over a hundred."
Bella stood tall, not letting any of this information ruffle her. She was a cop, a good one. It was part of her job description to put guys like that away. Dean noticed her posture change. His girl was brave, but she needed to understand how dangerous this was … especially for her.
"And his victim flavor of choice?" Dean said, looking right at her. "Pretty, petite brunettes. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill 'em." He paused, letting it sink in and Bella's eyes widened. "Which is what I smelled in the hallway. At his place, cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody, brown hair."
Bella reached for the collar of her shirt and twisted in her fist. Dean gave her a stern look. "Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em."
"Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?" Bella's voice shook a bit. Between the thing that grabbed her in the hall and then the violation of something take her pants … it was all starting to hit a little too close to home.
Sam frowned. "Well, it's not that easy. His body is buried in town, but it's encased in a couple tons of concrete.
Brows knit together, Bella asked, "What? Why?"
Dean pursed his lips. "The story goes that he didn't want anybody mutilating his corpse. 'Cause, you know, that's what he used to do."
Scrolling down a website about Holmes, Sam looked up, his face worried. "You know somethin'. We might have an even bigger problem than that."
Bella gritted her teeth. "How does this get bigger?"
Standing, Sam walked over to Dean. He knew what he was about to say would set the course of the hunt. He'd been around Bella long enough to know she wouldn't sit this one out. "Holmes built an apartment building in Chicago. He called it the Murder Castle. The whole place was a death factory. It had, uh, trap doors, acid vats, quick line pits … He built these secret chambers inside the walls. He'd lock his victims in, keep them alive for days. Some he'd suffocate, others he'd let starve to death.
Nodding, Bella added, "So the girls could still be alive. She could be inside these walls …"
Dean shook his head. "Whatever you're thinking, just stop. Sam and I can take care of this without you."
Bella stood in front of him, her eyes pleading. "You have to let me help. This Holmes guy obviously has his sights on me. I'm just in as much danger sitting this out as I am in the thick of it. These girls need me."
"Fine," Dean relented. "We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls, anywhere thick enough to hide a girl."
E/N – Dun. Dun. Dun … So who can guess what happens next? Yes, Bella is assuming the role of Jo in this "episode," but I have no plans of having Jo in the story. Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends. May your day be filled with lots of tryptophan and wine! I know mine will be. Reviews are better than getting your hands on a virginal Dean. Okay, that's a lie … but they still make my day!
