Dean turned, noticing Sam's eyes had already locked with whoever was behind them. To his shock, the person didn't wear any kind of uniform, and was so unimposing the elder brother almost wanted to laugh.
The guy looked just a little younger than Sam and was about the same height, but he was skinnier and wore the most ridiculously large pair of glasses Dean had ever seen. Without them, Dean suspected the guy might not actually be half-bad looking, but with them, he was just plain goofy. "Dude, do we know you?" It was a rhetorical question, because he was already sure they didn't. No one was likely to ever forget that nerdish face, ever.
"I…I don't think so." He looked almost sheepish as he walked a little closer, stammering out his words. "I'm…I'm Tim DaNozza." He jerked a thumb back to the apartment block they'd just vacated. "That was my place that just burned…"
Dean's fingers fell from Sam's jacket collar as he realized his brother had stopped shaking since Tim had appeared. Maybe the presence Sam had felt was this kid – especially as they suspected he was one of the "gifted." "How did you know our names? Hell, how did you find us?" Jeez, another dumbass question, he probably has freaky Sammy visions and saw us already…
"I…" Tim bit into his lower lip hard. He knew all about these people. He'd seen them twice in his dreams, his nightmares. "I just know…"
"Did you know about the fire too? Is that why you weren't home?" Sam's head had cleared the moment Tim had arrived, and he already felt some kind of bond with the strange looking kid. He's like me…but just what the hell are we anyway? Good, bad? Something in between..?
Tim shook his head, stealing another glance back to the throngs of onlookers on the normally quiet street. "I…know your names, but the fire? I wasn't expecting that. I just don't understand any of this. Why me?"
Sam gestured to the back seat of the Impala, wondering if Tim would actually trust them enough to get in after what he must be going through. Having visions was bad enough, but Sam doubted Tim had anyone to share it with like he had Dean. "We can explain if you'll just trust us."
Tim bobbed his head and dived into the back of the Chevy as if he were going for a drive with a bunch of his high school buddies. He apparently had no qualms about putting his faith in two total strangers.
Dean raised a brow, jogging around to tug open the driver's door. "I think this kid freaks me almost as much as the demon," he muttered, glancing back at Tim as he climbed into the Impala. "So, Clark Kent wannabe, want to start by telling us just how you know who we are?"
"Clark Kent?" Tim looked meekly to Dean, fumbling with his hands. "Oh, you mean the glasses…yeah, well, the nightmares I have are bad enough. These things make people ignore me. They think of me as the local geek…I get left out of the crowd – which is how I prefer it…I can't get close to anyone. I can't let anyone love me." The kid looked out of the window, his pitiful expression making it all too clear he felt like a pariah. If anyone got too close, they might just get burned - literally.
Dean and Sam could relate to that look.
"Because of the visions you have, right?" Sam interrupted, leaning over the Chevy's bench seat. "You think if you can stay detached from people enough you won't see as much? Or maybe it won't hurt so much if you see something bad go down close to you?"
"You know about the visions?" Tim's head shot up in surprise. "I thought…I thought…"
"You thought you were the only one, right? You thought you had to shoulder the bad things you see and be alone?" Sam understood totally. He'd been through this. "I see them too, Tim. That's why my brother and I are here. We think something bad is going to happen in Lawrence…"
Tim lowered his eyes again. "It is," he said knowingly. "I've seen things, bad things, I think, but I just can't figure out what they mean."
"The mothman?" Dean pushed. "We read the article about you seeing something. You have to tell us every detail so we can try and figure this thing out and save lives. Cos I'm telling you, dude, mothman only usually foretell huge freakin' disasters I don't wanna see happen in my home town, capiche?" Not to mention there's a fiery-assed demon behind all this you don't even know about yet…
Dean watched the kid's reaction. He was more than afraid. What would he feel like if he knew he was somehow connected to a demon? Would he even believe them? It was sometimes tough to hold back the truth from people, but sometimes it was even tougher to tell them the reality they were living in.
The Winchester's had to deal with that reality every day. They had to live, knowing that evil things not only existed, but had taken most of their family and friends. They had to live, knowing that "a war was coming" and as Bobby had so eloquently put it, they where smack bang in the middle of it.
No, maybe it was better people like Tim didn't know the truth. Maybe it was better a burden best left to those who at least knew how to fight it. Then, perhaps only a few people would have to suffer the pain, the nightmares, the fates that the Winchesters had.
"I…I was coming home one night from my friend's house. It was late and I'd just gotten off the bus. I usually walk across the apartment's lot, you know, kinda use it as a short cut, but that night all the lights were out. It was kinda weird and freaky…" Tim paused, looking at the two men in the front of the car. He wasn't afraid of them. He'd sensed they weren't bad from his dreams, or he would have never sought them out. But still, somehow, their very presence was imposing. "Anyway, I was about halfway across the car park when something flew in front of me. Just like a shadow, black, flapping wings, but…"
"But not a bird or bat, right?" Sam pushed when Tim seemed to pause mid-sentence. "At least, not in the conventional sense?"
Tim swallowed at the vivid memory he still carried around with him. "No, it was way too big. Its eyes, they glowed bright red."
"Well what did it say, bugboy?" Dean was getting antsy.
"It didn't say anything." Tim shrugged. "It just kinda hovered there in silence for a few seconds and then vanished into the trees."
"But there's more isn't there?" Sam could tell with Tim's face the story wasn't yet over.
Tim nodded. "The next morning there was a message on my front door." he gulped. "Well, carved into it, actually, but it didn't make sense. It looked like a five-year-old had scrawled it…"
Dean waited for the punchline, and when it didn't come he rolled his eyes and demanded, "Well? What did it say? You do remember?"
"It looked like it said "Find the Fir Tree" but that makes no sense, does it?" Tim looked on apologetically as Dean slammed a hand into the Impala's steering wheel in frustration. "I'm sorry I don't know what it means…"
"It's not your fault, Tim. This isn't the only message that isn't exactly coming through crystal clear," Sam soothed, noting down the words and spellings that the young man gave him, along with those from his own two experiences. He stared at the notepad a second and then passed it over to his brother. "Looks like 'fir' is the only common word. Think it's a reference to the fire demon?"
Dean cocked his head. "Yeah, I think so, and if these moth bugs got "fire" all garbled, I'm betting some of the other words are too. See anything familiar?"
"Fire demon?" Tim's mouth opened until it looked like he might swallow someone, and his face paled, but neither brother answered him.
"Maybe we could use reverse logic?" Sam continued, seemingly never hearing Tim. "We know the mothman predict disasters on a large scale, and we know whatever's going down is going to be in or near the Lawrence area. What could the demon target around here?"
"Man, you need to find something big in Lawrence? Something that's destruction would cause havoc?" The bespectacled student's gaping jaw closed and he began to ponder along with the brothers, totally disregarding the fact he could have sworn he heard them say "demon" at least twice. "There are just too many options here. Landmarks, bridges, hey, and even the local gas fields…"
Sam nodded, scowling as he held the notepad upside down, sideways, and every other angle that might shed new light on the strange phrases scribbled on it. "I think we need the library. We could cross reference this," he tapped the pad, "with anything local that could cause mass loss of life."
Dean shrugged and turned to face the front of the car, hand hovering over the ignition as he offered, "Hell, maybe the demon could just crash a plane smack in the middle of town. It would cut out any leg work…" When the suggestion earned him a huge scowl of disapproval from his sibling, he smirked. "Sorry, man, I guess I shouldn't have watched that last episode of Ghost Whisperer."
"Dean, will you just drive?" Sam shot a glance at Tim who simply remained in the back seat, impassive to anything the brothers seemed to discuss. He appeared to accept everything at face value just like a kid who had never lost any innocence. "Maybe some music, just this once," Sam suggested, thinking it might calm everyone's nerves as he flicked on the radio.
I am the god of hell f ire and I bring you:
Fire, I'll take you to burn.
Fire, I'll take you to learn.
I'll see you burn!
You fought hard and you saved and learned,
but all of it's going to burn.
And your mind, your tiny mind,
you know you've really been so blind.
Now's your time burn your mind.
You're falling far too far behind.
Oh no, oh no, oh no, you gonna burn!
Dean almost choked on the gum he was chewing and slammed on the car's brakes before he'd even gotten out of the lot. His eyes shot to Sam's almost as fast as his hand reached out and shut down The Crazy World of Arthur Brown as it spewed from the speakers. "Dude, tell me that's just a coincidence, right?"
Sam's face contorted in deep discomfort. After the things he'd witnessed the last two days alone, he wasn't betting on it. Is the demon watching us, playing mind games even?
"Hey, guys? Mind telling me what this is all about?" Tim's placid voice drifted from the back of the Impala questioningly.
"Nope…" Dean and Sam chimed in unison.
----
Dean had almost forgotten where Lawrence's main library was situated. Even when he'd lived in the town he'd rarely visited any place that actually involved education unless he'd been forced there. Finding the library now was like reliving bad memories of being dragged there by Sammy for one of his school projects when all Dean had wanted to do was mess under the Impala's hood.
"It's the next left," Sam instructed helpfully, patting the car's dash rhythmically with his fingertips as if he could will it to arrive faster. The demon's here. We don't have much time…
"Wait! Stop the car!" Tim's shrill cry cut off a timely retort from Dean and made him pull over to the curb. He rarely took orders from anyone, especially when he was behind the wheel, but this time he was sure the kid was either gonna puke in his car or have a coronary, his face was so flushed.
"Dude, you better not hurl on the upholstery or you clean it…"
Tim's color grew even deeper and he ignored the jibe, pointing instead through the windshield to a freshly painted store front that seemed to be an offshoot of a much bigger company. "That's it," he eventually stammered, trying to force out words through his excitement. "Look at the name…look what they do…"
"Fire Tek – Fire Prevention Systems for the next Millennia." Sam read out the logo above the doorway, taking in the lettering and similarities with the pad he still held in his left hand. "You think "Fir tree" is a garbled, misspelled Fire Tek?" He finally asked Tim.
Tim nodded. "It's a long shot, but I just…I just feel it."
Dean drew in a long, deep breath between his teeth. "Man, that evil SOB is gonna burn something big…"
"So," Sam tossed the pad down and began quickly rifling through the glove box until he found what he was looking for. "We go in and find out what large scale projects Fire Tek have worked on recently, right? I mean, there can't be that many." I hope. He tossed his brother an FBI badge and then looked over his shoulder. "Just wait here till we get back, okay, Tim?"
Tim didn't move. It was like being in a John Carpenter movie, except the more he thought about it, the more he suspected he was going to end up as "bad guy fodder" unless he kept his head down. "I'm not going anywhere," he admitted meekly, eyes bulging as he noted Dean wedge a silver automatic into the back of his jeans before exiting the car.
----
Fire Tek
Ten Minutes Later…
Dean tugged open the glass door to the company's showroom and quickly glanced down at his clothes. He'd swapped his damaged jacket for a clean one from his holdall in the Impala's trunk, but if any Fire Tek people scrutinized him too closely they'd still be able to see soot marks all down his jeans. Trust me to leave most of my stuff back at the motel…
Sam, on the other hand had been lucky enough to have a full change of clothes in the car. That was the very good reason why he was now taking point in their little investigation.
"Hi, I'm Special Agent Dickinson and this is my partner Agent Simpson…" Sam flashed his fake FBI badge at the salesman now heading towards them, a small, brief smirk flashing across his features as Dean started at the name he'd been given. "We're here to ask about any recent large scale installations you may have carried out in the area."
The salesman's very helpful smile wavered. He'd been hoping to take an order, not talk shop with a couple of feds. Business was slow lately and he needed the commission. "I…I'm not sure I can give out that kind of information. Do you have a warrant?"
Dean pushed forward, making sure to lightly tread on his brother's left boot with just enough pressure to make him cringe as he passed by. "My badge better not say Bart or I'll kick your ass," he mumbled under his breath as he approached Fire Tek's rep.
Sam's cheeks sank into a smile but he didn't answer. The "look" on Dean's face was amusement enough as he slid past to pressurize the salesman. Oh, but you're SO Bart…
"Listen, we don't need a warrant when we're dealing with a matter of national security." Dean made sure he was in the little man's face just enough to make him squirm. "We have reason to believe a person, or persons unknown are planning a terrorist attack right here in Lawrence. Do you want me to arrest your ass for obstruction of justice?"
The forty-something, balding rep whose nametag read "Dave" shook his head and slowly backed up to his nearby desk, his eyes never leaving Dean. When the back of his leg hit a rather large leather swivel chair, he sank into it and began tapping on his computer. "How far back do you want our records?" He asked, swallowing several times in quick succession.
Dean looked to Sam before the younger brother answered. "Try a couple of months. We're looking for something major. Anything high profile like new hotels, places where there are likely to be lots of people…"
Dave instantly stopped his search. "Well, we finished two big jobs just last week. Don't even need the computer to tell you about those. One was the fire suppression system for the new wing at the local Uni, the other was a whole new system at the Beresford Woods Retirement place just outta town…"
Sam looked at his brother and mouthed the word "Uni." He didn't know why, but it just seemed to fit so much better than a retirement home. So many young lives, and on a much larger scale.
Dean silently nodded his agreement, turning his attention back to Dave. "Were there any problems with the installation at the Uni? Any glitches with the system, unusual problems, that kinda thing?"
The salesman swiveled to-and-fro in his chair out of habit, his gaze suddenly fixed on the dirt and grime on Dean's jeans. His brow quirked as if he were about to ask what an FBI was doing clothed that way, but when Dean scowled back he abruptly thought better of it. "I think they had a few teething troubles embedding some of the suppression system cables into the walls, but nothing out of the ordinary for a job of that scale."
Sam suddenly felt nauseous. He had come here looking for answers, but now that he had them he didn't feel better, he felt useless.
I think they had a few teething troubles embedding some of the suppression system cables into the walls,
Into the walls…
Pressure began to build behind Sam's eyes, and he started rubbing at his left temple. It wasn't a headache, just sheer raw dread mixed with the terrifying truth of what was going to happen. The fire demon was going to try and burn down Kansas University's newest wing, and everyone in it.
"Dave, do you have schematics of the new system here?" Sam asked breathlessly.
The little man bit his lip, but hit a few more keys on his keyboard until he found the information he was looking for. Stealing a last glance at Dean in obvious fear, he scooted into the back of the establishment and returned moments later with two floor and wall plans sheathed in protective tubing.
"I'll need to have signatures for these," he dared to ask, placing a form in front of Sam. "I'm really not supposed to release them but…"
"But you're doing your country a great service," Dean finished for him, squiggling something unintelligible on the form for good measure. "We'll be sure to make sure you get a mention on the six o'clock news." The hunter winked cheekily and grabbed the rolled plans before Dave could change his mind.
"Really? On CNN even..?"
Dave continued to shout after them until the doorbell jingled as it closed behind the brothers.
"CNN, huh?"
Dean shrugged and tapped the alarm blueprints. "Yeah, I'm figuring he won't be all that's on the news pretty soon if we don't figure this thing out fast." His brows furrowed and he stopped just off the edge of the sidewalk. "So, you looked like you had a Dalai Lama moment back there. Wanna fill me in before I die of old age?"
Sam hunched his shoulders and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Was it his imagination or had the temperature just gotten way too cold for the time of year? Maybe it was just the bad things going through his mind, maybe it was just the thought of so much death hanging in the air. "When the guy said they'd had trouble with the wiring in the walls I thought of the phone message. "Fir in wals" or maybe fire in the walls? And the second message, on your car? Dean, Kansas Uni is built on Mount Oread…"
Dean rubbed at the stubble on his face, licking his lips as he realized how suddenly dry they'd become. "Mount Oread is an anagram of "Out on a Dream." Sonofabitch, he really is gonna burn the University…" He tapped the tubes in his left hand lightly onto his free palm. "Question is when is the freaky bastard gonna strike?"
"There has to be a time frame, a reasoning behind his plan." Sam turned, ignoring the strange looks as shoppers pushed past his lanky body to get to a nearby crossing. Something was staring him in the face; something was burning to get out from the depths of his mind. Burning…burning…just like the demon.
Sam's head snapped up as realization hit. "Dean, today is December 15th, right?"
Dean looked at his watch for confirmation, even though he was pretty sure he hadn't slept through any days lately without noticing – something he had done on occasion briefly after John's death. "Yeah, unless they altered the calendar this year just to confuse us. Why?"
"The bridge collapse the mothman foretold in Point Pleasant? Dean, it was exactly forty years ago today…" Sam was getting colder, but was it just his own nervous system reacting to the news he didn't want to hear? "Dude, the demon seems to have some kind of cycle, and I think it's come full circle tonight…"
Dean's pulse quickened before he'd even had time to assimilate the information. If Sam was right, they had hours, maybe less to convince people to evacuate the newest section of Kansas University. Not only that, they had to find the demon and stop its heinous plan. Could they even do half of what they needed to?
Your brother is the key to everything…
Dean took down a strangled breath and gestured that they should jump back in the Chevy. Inside his mind, though, all he could hear, could see, was Flauros taunting him. Maybe this was Sam's time. Maybe Sam's destiny really was to face off the demon in some weird showdown. If that was the case, then Dean would be right there with him, fighting until he drew his last breath.
But what if Sammy wasn't here to face off the demon? What if this was what the yellow-eyed bastard had been waiting of all along? What if tonight Sam pushed aside all else and took his place alongside the thing.
Dude, the demon seems to have some kind of cycle, and I think it's come full circle tonight…
Come full circle to collect? Dean's muscles convulsed as an involuntary shudder wracked his scar-covered body. No, tonight they thwarted the demon. Tonight they saved the University. And tonight, maybe they could find out the truth before they finally died and joined John in whatever hereafter awaited.
tbc...