I should be writing other things...but this is way too addictive. XD Yay for my once-a-week days off! XD~
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"Where the Hell am I?" Dean glanced around at his unfamiliar surroundings. Creepy forest? Check. Eerie fog? Check. Mysterious silence in the dead of night? Check.
Freaky ass dream? Check.
The thing that clued him into the fact that it was a dream was probably something to do with the fact that a tree had winked at him, and a squirrel had given a sailor a run for his money for having a foul mouth.
Weird.
"Dean Winchester...look at you, all grown up and nowhere to go. You looked prettier before though. All strung up by your meat." a voice came from behind him and he whirled around to find Alistair smiling at him, leering. "Honestly, it was a real-turn on for me, and I'm not easily impressed. But something about the way your flesh hung from your body, the way you screamed..." he inhaled as though smelling something pleasant and gave a satisfied sigh. "And the way you tore into those souls...a monster after my own heart."
"Alistair." Dean growled as he reached for his gun by instinct, and found that he had none. "You're dead. This is a dream."
Alistair pursed his lips. "Well, yes...but so what? I'm as real as needed for you, darling."
"Dead." Dean repeated, as though that would dispel the figment before him.
Alistair merely chuckled as he took a step forward and came to stand before Dean. "You know, it was never supposed to end this way. I was grooming you, you know. At first you were only necessary to break the seal, worthless beyond that, except as a meat puppet for that angel-prick...but me? I was rooting for you, really. For you to join our ranks, become my star pupil, flay souls beside me..."
"Go to Hell." Dean said coldly, but he didn't move away from Alistair and there was a tenseness to his body.
"Only if you come with me...I'm so lonely without you." he murmured as he traced a finger against Dean's cheek.
"No. You're dead. As in, fuck off and die already." Dean shoved Alistair's hand away but the other caught his wrist and dug his nails into Dean's flesh and it burned and faintly bled beneath his touch as his nails dug in, but he didn't release the other.
Alistair leaned in until their lips were almost touching, breathing in the Winchester's scent and he met the other's gaze as his eyes suddenly went stark yellow and it was Azazel's voice that came from Alistair's stolen form as he leaned in to whisper in a stunned Dean's ear. "Daddy says 'hello'."
Dean awoke with a start as he jerked in his seat, a thin sheen of sweat on his face. He became aware of the fact that someone was speaking his name and he turned to face a concerned looking Sam who was driving his Impala. Memories came back to him as he recalled giving the other the turn of the wheel after a long bout of driving. He'd been reluctant, but tired, and he knew that Sam was antsy...and then he'd slept...and dreamed of that.
"Another nightmare, Dean? What was it this time?"
"Don't remember." Dean muttered instantly and his voice was hoarse, as though he hadn't drunk anything in ages. Not unlike how it had felt after he'd woken up in that damned coffin and dug his way out of his more earthly Hell, after Castiel had... And his arm burned faintly. Dean pulled back the sleeve of his jacket to reveal his wrist where nail marks had thin pinpricks of blood and the faint area around them was scorched with finger imprints that matched those he had received in the dream.
"Shit." he whispered, as visions of yellow-eyes danced in his head.
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"Looks clean considering. You know. People are getting their hearts ripped out." Dean noted as he leaned against the side of the Impala to survey the landscape. Several hours after waking up, they'd arrived and Dean had managed to quell, or rather, ignore Sam's curiosity and concern and thus managed to avoid talking about what he'd dreamt about.
Alistair. And Yellow-Eyes. The monster who'd nearly made a monster of him, the monster who'd made something of a monster of his father. Both were demons who'd twisted his life in ways beyond most human understanding, or understanding in general, really. They'd seemed so real, and then his hand...but the two of them were dead, no two ways about it, so that was that.
But then...what had dug it's nails into his flesh...and burned him?
"So far all of the killings have taken place in about a four mile radius, four killings, four commandments. Kill. Adultery. False Witness. And other gods."
Dean was stirred from his thoughts by his brother as the other joined him and he lifted a brow. "Wait...those are the commandments? Kill, make merry, and lie?"
Sam shot his brother a sour look. "You don't know the commandments?"
"I'm not exactly a church-goer, Sammy." Dean replied wryly.
Sam made a 'whatever' face. "Alright, well there's ten commandments. A bunch of 'thou shalt nots'. No killing, adultery, false witness against neighbors, honor the Sabbath day, no Gods before God, no idolatry to images, no coveting, honor thy mother and father, don't say God's name in vain, and don't steal." Sam looked up to find his brother staring at him like he'd grown the third eye this time.
"Dude. You don't seriously have those memorized, do you?" Sam's faint pout was all the answer he needed and he muttered. "You are such a nerd..."
"Anyway." Sam restored focus to the task at hand. "Bobby and I still haven't worked out where the feather fits in, we figure the hearts are some kind of righteous punishment. So that leaves stealing, God's name in vain, dishonoring parents, the Sabbath, no idolatry, and no coveting."
"This is crap, man...I wanted a hunt, not a lesson in bible-spew." Dean grumbled.
"Well too bad. This is what we've got." Sam noted as he scanned the notes in his hands before he tossed them into the Impala and they locked her up. "In the past three days since...Purgatory opened, that's been four kills, two to start with and one each night since. It's a pretty sure bet there'll be another tonight."
"Great. Now we just have to hit up anyone that's stolen, cursed, screwed their parents, or worshipped teen idols. That really narrows it down."
"It's better than nothing." Sam muttered. "Last night's kill took place not far from here. We can check that out first, see if we can find a clue."
"Let's get to it then."
An hour, some intensive searching, EMF reading, and sulphur-searching later...they'd found...
"Nothing. Not a damn thing here. It's so clean it's scary." Dean noted of the alley way.
"You'd think there'd be something..." he glanced upwards, but there were no windows, it was a dead end alley. The only one who might have seen something would have been someone walking by, but no witnesses had come forward and he doubted they'd be about to even if they had saw something.
"So what now? Check the corpses, maybe? We haven't used our FBI suits in awhile." Dean suggested.
Sam glanced up towards the sky. They had about five hours till nightfall, and if they didn't find something fast, namely the next target, then someone else was going to die. "Corpses it is."
...
"I'm Detective Rogers, this is my partner, Detective Owens. Mind if we examine the latest victim?" A wardrobe change and I.D. swap later, the pair found their way to the proper morgue where an overweight man eyed them mistrustfully as he scrutinized their badges.
"I don't know." his voice was nasally. "What does the FBI want with some mutilated bodies anyway?"
Dean and Sam exchanged a glance before Dean put on a tough-voice and snapped. "When did official business become a citizen's concern? You want me to put you away for obstruction of justice?"
The man's mistrust intensified and he begrudgingly pointed. "Down the hall. On your left. Clean up after yourselves." he said snidely.
Dean seemed like he might give a snappy reply but Sam tweaked his brother's elbow covertly. "Will do. Thank you." he said in a curtly polite fashion as he led Dean down the hall.
"Weaselly little..."
"Cool it, Dean. Job. Limited time. Focus." Sam emphasized.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Dean muttered as they found their victim and slid him out. Sure enough, the chest cavity was caved as if someone had literally reached in and yanked the heart out. Everything else was undisturbed, not a scratch or odd mark anywhere. "Talk about a heartbreaker." he murmured, but Sam didn't find humor in his response and Dean dropped it as he peered into the hole. "That's just nasty.."
"Definitely not a werewolf though. Way too clean. Not even a bite." Sam noted as he began examining the rest of the man's body. He picked up the man's hand and nearly dismissed it until he noticed something under his fingernails. "What the...?"
"Sam?"
"There's something under his nail...it's...I don't know." It was dark green and just a sliver, it was slick and somewhat leathery. "It's...skin. From...something."
Dean examined it from beside Sam. "Probably whatever killed Mr. Clean here."
"I'll call Bobby, see if he knows of any...green-skinned...things. Failing that, there's a college not far from here, possibly we can get them to analyze it."
"Yeah, that'll go over well. 'Hey, geeks! FBI here, we're not really FBI so instead of actual experts we thought we'd just get out your chem set and have a ball'."
Sam shot Dean an unamused look. "We'll tell them it's urgent. Since, as you said, we don't have any experts-we don't really another choice."
"Just saying." Dean shrugged.
Sam eyed his brother a moment before he shook his head. "On second thought, you call Bobby, I'll take this over the lab now. It's better if one of us stays out anyway and keeps an eye out for the possible next victim."
Dean gave him a bland look. "Like I said, not much of a church-goer, but I have heard of 'he who has not sinned, stone the bastard first'." Sam crinkled his nose at his brother's loose interpretation. "Everyone in this town has probably broken a commandment at least once, how the Hell are we supposed to single out someone?"
"Just hope we get lucky, because if he we don't, someone else is going to die." Sam said matter-of-factly.
Dean's expression hardened and his lips tightened into a grim line. Sam knew that those words would get Dean to focus, raise his protective hackles as it were. "Fine. Be careful, Sammy."
"You too." Sam said with a knowing glance at his brother as they closed up shop on the body, and left the morgue and each other in silence.
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So I was going to make this longer, but I think I'll split the next bit into two chaps. Or one long-ish one. Sam's POV as he does his thing, and then Dean's as he does his and possibly gets his visit from Death...or something. XD Enjoy!~ By the way...three updates in one day...I'm kinda sorta happy with myself. Days off rule. XD~