I woke up with my feet nailed down
And my head moving the speed of sound
Had a dream I was caught in a maze
And I couldn't find my way back out
Some were born to move mountains around
And some to rot away in jail
I get an itch and when I am scratching
Everything can go to hell
And how far is halfway there?
I didn't see you on the trail
Did almost become good enough?
Should a good life be so hard won?
Is that what our dreams have become?
NIGHTSHIFTER
Beth's POV
Milwaukee, Wisconsin
Sam and I were interviewing the Manager of a jewelry store, posing as FBI agents. The manager was in shock over the apparent robbery then suicide of one of his sales people, and we were just trying to get to the bottom of it all.
"Helena was our head buyer. She ... she was family, you know? She said it herself, every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had." The Manager said to Sam, who was turning on the sympathetic puppy-dog look.
"So there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" Sam asked, and the Manager shook his head at us both.
"No. Still can't believe it, even now." He looked contemplative, thinking about what to say. "That night, Helena came back to the store after closing. Cleaned out all the display cases, and the safe. Edgar — our night watchman — he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do, he'd known her for years. He called me at home."
"And that's when she took his gun?" I asked, looking up from my notes.
"She shot him in the face. I heard him die. Over the phone." The manager said. He looked distressed, genuinely confused as to why it was his employee had committed the crimes that she had.
"Any idea what her motive could have been?" Sam asked
"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry, and then what? Just dump it somewhere, just hide it, and then go home and..." the manager's voice faded a bit as my attention was drawn to Dean, standing at another counter, talking to an attractive young woman.
She wasn't shy about being forward with him, not that I could blame her, he looked good on a bad day, and well, on days when he was wearing a suit, Dean was pretty much irresistible to anyone – especially when he turned on the charm.
Which he seemed to be doing now, I frowned a bit shook my head. Sam had this interview under wraps, I was going to just wander over and have a listen in on Dean's... interview.
"She killed herself?" Dean was asking as I loitered by a jewellery case, listening in.
"Well, the cops said she dropped the hair dryer in the bath and fried herself. They should know, right?" The girl asked, looking intently at Dean.
"Yeah..." Dean said with a nod. "Well, thank you, Frannie, I think that's all I need." Dean started to walk away, catching my eye as he saw me standing a few feet away. He smiled and then paused when Frannie spoke again.
"Really? Because I've got more. You know," she looked around slyly before leaning toward Dean, "...if you wanted to interview me sometime. In private?" I raised an eyebrow and snorted. That suit worked every time.
Dean grinned, looking back at me with a slight swagger before turning back to Frannie. "Yeah. Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You're a true patriot, you really are. Why don't you write your number down there for me?" Dean said to her, I crossed my arms over my chest and watched, shaking my head.
A few weeks ago I'd have been a nervous wreck and in tears watching this scene unfold before me, I was feeling a lot more like my level-headed self this past week though, and it wasn't a moment too soon either because I was just about over the emotional roller-coaster ride I'd been on for the last few months.
Dean took the number from Frannie and turned back to me, crossing over to stand close, but not too close. We were supposed to be colleagues, not lovers.
"Hey there Scully," Dean said, looking down at me. I raised my eyebrow.
"I thought Sam was Scully," I replied, my mouth twitching into a smile.
"Not anymore, I'm making an executive decision... Skinner just isn't doing it for me." Dean said looking at me with an amused expression.
"Well, apparently Scully wasn't doing it for you back there either," I said, inclining my head toward Frannie who was watching us confer.
Dean snorted and brandished the phone number in front of me. "Fifth one this month, puts me way in the lead," he said, referring to our competition on who could collect the most numbers in any given month.
"Really Dean?" I asked, shaking my head and smirking. "We're still playing that game, it's hardly a level playing field in my current condition." I said, gesturing down to my newly formed stomach, starting to protrude out. I'd pulled my jacket closed a little and cinched it at the waist with a wide belt – it was still kind of obvious that I was pregnant though.
Dean looked around and led me to one of the display cases, turning me to face it, leaning against my back and pointing at a piece of jewelry as if he were showing me something pertinent to our case.
Instead he took the opportunity to run his hand down over my stomach and place a kiss behind my ear. "You're still gorgeous, apple-pie, so quit your whining. You could get anyone's number in this room and you know it." I frowned.
"I'm not sure I'd want the number of someone who wanted to date a woman who was four months pregnant." I said, crossing my arms.
"You think I want her number?" Dean asked, nodding back at Frannie, who was still watching him like a hawk, but couldn't see much with his back turned to her.
I raised my eyebrow at him, questioningly. He shook his head. "It's just a game Beth, one that you started if I do remember rightly..." he said, smirking at me. "You're just a sore loser," he added and I smiled.
"You might be right," I said, looking up at him, our faces just inches apart as we spoke. "But I'm the one carrying around the next karate world champion inside of me, so I get to call hiatus any time I want," I said with a grin.
Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't disagree. He handed me Frannie's number and stared down at me for a moment. "Sore loser," he said again and then he smiled, pulling back to start walking over to Sam.
"So you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then?" Sam was asking the manager as Dean and I joined him.
"No. The police, they took all the tapes, first thing," the Manager said to us.
"Yeah," Dean said, raising an eyebrow. "Of course they did," he said, looking at Sam, annoyed.
Beth's POV
Impala
It was dark, and had been raining by the time we finished up with the interviews at the jewelry store. We were now following up a lead from a previous heist, also linked to our case.
"Five, this is it," Sam said, nodding to the house on our right, Dean pulled up the car, still fuming over the police involvement in the case.
"Friggin' cops," Dean muttered, not for the first time in the car ride over.
"They're just doing their job, Dean," Sam said, looking at his brother.
"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it." Dean said, climbing out of the car, we joined him. "Talk to me about this bank."
"Uh, Milwaukee National Trust, it was hit about a month ago," Sam said, joining Dean on the pavement.
"Same M.O. As the jewelry store?" Dean asked.
"Yep," I said, looking up at the house. "Inside job, long time employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. He robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide." I frowned, none of that made any sense whatsoever, unless you started to put it in creature terms, because their motives were rarely the same as those of a human.
"The guy, Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?" Dean asked, looking at Sam and starting to walk up to the house. Sam trailed behind him, and I brought up the rear.
"Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place," Sam answered with a nod as we reached the porch.
"God..." Dean muttered.
"Yeah..." Sam agreed, knocking on the glass door that was in front of us. "Mr Resnick? Ronald Resnick?" Sam called out. A bright floodlight turned on, shining right in our faces. I flinched and reached up to cover my eyes.
"Son of a b..." Dean swore, trailing off as a young man came to the door. He was carrying a few extra pounds, not unlike myself, I thought ruefully, and had shoulder length wavy brown hair. He stood a few yards away from the door, peering out at us through the glass.
"FBI, Mr Resnick," Sam said, holding a hand up to the light. Ronald walked up to the door and looked us over.
"Let me see the badge," Ronald said, looking at us intently.
I rolled my eyes and let the boys handle it. Sam and Dean pulled out their badges and slapped them against the screen door together. Ronald walked up to the door and squinted at the badges carefully before stepping back.
"I already gave my statement to the police," he said with a frown.
"Yeah, listen Ronald, uh . . . just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on." Dean said, putting his badge away.
"You read it?" Ronald asked.
"Sure did," Dean said back at him.
"And you want to listen to what I've got to say?" He asked, surprised.
"Well, that's why we're here." Dean said, and it was true. Ronald's story was nothing short of fantastical to read, but only in the normal world. It was like gold to the supernatural hunters out there, sticking out like a sore thumb, a testament to something bigger happening than a simple bank robbery.
"Well. Come in," Ronald said, opening the door. He led us through a narrow hallway to a cluttered room.
"None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy." I looked around at the walls, they were covered with alien photos, and other assorted conspiracy theory articles and information. It was vaguely reminiscent of one of our hunting set-ups, photos of people and aliens, linked together with string, and so on.
"First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That I guarantee. See, we and Juan were friends, he used to come back to the bank on my night shifts and we'd play cards." Ronald said, turning to look at us.
"So you let him into the bank that night, after hours?" I asked, looking over at him.
"The thing I let into the bank . . . wasn't Juan." Ronald said, looking at me. "I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Uh, every detail was perfect, but too perfect, like, you know, like if a dollmaker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan-doll."
"A Juan-doll?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Look. This wasn't the only time this happened. Okay?" He said, handing me a folder. "There was this jewelry store, too. And the cops, and you guys, you just won't see it!" Ronald looked at us anxiously. I looked into the folder, there were a number of newspaper clippings, research printouts, photos, and more. It looked exactly like the kind of work up we'd done on the jewelry heist case.
"Both crimes were pulled by the same thing," Ronald said confidently.
"What's that, Mr Resnick?" Sam asked, glancing over my shoulder at the file.
Ronald picked up a copy of a magazine and held it to his chest. It was called Fortean Times and the headline at the bottom read Birth of the Cybermen.
"Chinese have been working on 'em for years." Ronald said, looking at us all. "And the Russians before that. Part men, part machine. Like the Terminator. But the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people."
Dean smirked, "Like the one from T2?"
"Exactly! See, so not just a robot, more of a, uh, a Mandroid," Ronald said with a nod.
"A Mandroid?" Sam asked, sceptical.
"And what makes you so sure about this, Ronald?" I asked, looking over at him. I mean, he seemed fairly lusic and with it, not too crazy for a conspiracy theorist.
Ronald held up a finger, smiling at us wildly. He crossed to a section of the room that housed a TV and VHS player. He inserted a tape that read MNT Camera 4 – Juan into the machine and looked back at us.
"See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them they'd be buried," he said, then he pointed at something on the screen. "here," he said.
Ronald fast forwarded the tape for a while, then paused the tape. "Now watch. Watch. Watch him, watch, watch! See, look! There it is! You see? He's got the laser eyes!" Ronald said excitedly.
He'd paused on a still shot of Juan, facing the camera, and there was a light-flare in his eyes, just like the one we'd seen in Zack's eyes last year when a shapeshifter had been on the loose, killing innocent women in their homes after torturing them. It had captured us at one stage, even assuming Dean's appearance, and it had been a frightening experience. I shared a knowing look with Sam and Dean, and they nodded, thinking the same thing as I was. We had another shapeshifter on our hands, one who had turned violent and murderous.
"Cops said it was some kind of reflected light. Some kind of "camera flare". Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me, it don't matter!" Ronald said, starting to rant about the vidoe.
"The mandroid is, is still out there. The law won't hunt this thing down, I'll do it myself. You see, this thing, it, it kills the real person, makes it look like a suicide, then it sorta like, morphs into that person. Cases the job for a while until it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies, they're, they're grouped together." He gestured to a map on the wall.
"So I figure the mandroid is holed up somewhere in the middle, underground, maybe. I don't know, maybe that's where it recharges its, uh, mandroid batteries." Dean looked impressed, nodding with a slight smile at the work Ronald had done to get this far on the case. Sam and I stared at the map.
"Okay. I want you to listen very carefully. Because I'm about to tell you the God's honest truth about all of this. There's no such thing as Mandroids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. Just people. Nothing else, you understand?" Sam said, towering over Ronald.
I threw him a confused look, and Dean looked as if he was going to say something, though startled at Sam's sudden statement.
"The laser eyes!" Ronald said desperately to us to explain his theory.
"Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. Look, I know you don't want to believe this. But your friend Juan robbed the bank and that's it." Sam said cruelly, and Ronald looked gutted.
"Get out of my house! Now!" Ronald shouted at him.
Sam looked at him calmly. "Sure. First things first," he said and I looked at Dean who was appearing just as confused at Sam's actions as I was. Sam stepped up to Ronald, intimidating him. Then we were leaving a few minutes later, video tapes in hand, Sam having talked him into handing them over.
Beth's POV
Motel Room
It was just getting dark when we got back to the motel room, my feet were swollen from the amount of standing around we'd done all day pretending to be Feds, and I just wanted a nice, long soak in the big corner spa bath we'd ensured was in the room. I started the water running as soon as I got in the door, and Dean started stripping out of his suit, to put on regular clothing.
"Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up," Dean said loosening his tie and then pulling it over his head, tossing it on the bed before starting to unbutton the shirt he was wearing. "I mean, you tell that poor son of a bitch that, what did you say, remand the tapes that he copied? Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation?" He snorted, shrugging out of his shirt and reaching for long-sleeved t-shirt, pulling it over his head.
Sam was at the VCR player, putting the tape in. I watched all this from the bathroom doorway while the water ran.
"What are you pissed at me or something?" Sam asked, sitting down to watch the tape.
"No," Dean said, grabbing a can of beer out of the fridge and cracking it. "I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are. I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good leg work here."
"Mandroid?" Sam asked, looking sceptical.
"Well, except for the mandroid part." Dean said with a shrug. "I liked him. He's not that different from you or me, people think we're crazy." I smiled at that, thinking about Dean running around telling people there were mandroids out to get us, now that could be funny.
"Yeah, except he's not a hunter, Dean." Sam said seriously. "He's just a guy who stumbled on to something real. If he were to go up against this thing he'd get torn apart." He looked over at me, and I chewed on my bottom lip. "Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive."
Dean paused, taking another drink. "Yeah, I guess," he conceded, not real happy about it. He sat down at the table, and placed some tracing paper over a set of blueprints, marking out a trail with red pen. Sam paused the video on the flaring eyes in the video, pointing at it.
"Shapeshifter. Just like back in St Louis. Same retinal reaction to video," Sam said, and I walked over to look at the video, a shudder passing through my body.
"Eyes flare at the camera. I hate those friggin' things." Dean muttered.
Sam turned to stare at Dean. "You think I don't?"
"Yeah, well, one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder... not to mention what he was going to do to Beth!" I frowned, not happy to be reminded of some of the things that had been said to me by the shapeshifter when he was in Dean's "skin".
"Well..." I said quietly, "if this shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri..."
"...then Ronald was right," Dean finished for me. "they like to lay up underground, preferably the sewer, and all the robberies have been connected so far, right?"
I nodded. "Yeah," Sam said.
"With the sewer main layout," Dean said, taking the tracing paper he'd been working on and laying it over the map of the city underneath.
"There's one more bank lined up on the same sewer main." He said, looking up at us. I sighed, looked like I wasn't getting my bath after all.
Beth's POV
City Bank of Milwaukee
The bank was open late, it was still a hive of activity when we arrived. I was still dressed in my suit, posing as a supervisor for my two security technicians – Dean grimaced at the uniform Sam had them wearing and I chuckled.
A security guard was leading us down the main hall toward the security room. "Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet," he commented to me.
"No, this is a glitch in the overall grid, we just need to make sure the branch monitors are all working as they should be," I said with a smile. The guard looked back at me and nodded.
"Well better to be safe than sorry, I guess," he said in a friendly tone.
"That's the plan," Dean said from behind me, looking around.
The guard opened the door to an observation room and I stepped in ahead of him. There were several TV screens showing security footage of different areas in the bank.
"All righty. You guys need anything else?" He asked, looking at me.
"Oh, no, we'll be in and out before you know it, just a routine check," I assured him.
"Okie-dokie," the guard said with a big beaming smile, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.
"I like him," Dean grinned at me. "He says 'Okie-dokie,'" I smiled.
"What if he's the shifter?" Sam said, killing the mood.
Dean frowned. "Well, then we follow him home and put a silver bullet through his chestplate."
He pulled a chair over for me to sit on, moving to stand behind me, hands on my shoulders as Sam took the chair next to me. Dean started to knead at the knots in my neck and I almost moaned out loud it felt so good, I was so tense!
"OK," Dean said, "did anyone remember to bring the popcorn?" He joked, brushing his hand along my neck, still rubbing my sore muscles. I chuckled and shook my head, stakeouts with Dean usually always involved some sort of food.
An hour later and I starting to fall asleep, I got up and started to pace in the room.I didn't have the stamina to go all night like the boys did any more, but be damned if I was going back to the motel on my own either. Dean must have felt just as nervous about letting me go off on my own, because he hadn't mentioned it, preferring to keep me with them for the duration of the stakeout.
My eyes caught sight of a complimentary coffee machine for customers in the lobby, so I decided to take a walk down to check it out.
"I'll be back, I'm going for coffee... you want some?" I said. Dean glanced up from where he was checking out the ass of a woman on the screen, looking slightly guilty.
"Uh, no... no thanks. Maybe you should stay here, huh?" He said, looking worried.
I shrugged, "We don't even know if anything is here Dean, no one has shown up on screen yet. Maybe we jumped the gun on this?"
Dean looked thoughtful, and Sam was nodding in agreement, he didn't seem to think we were getting anywhere, either. I gave Dean a little finger wave and opened the door, "I won't be long." He nodded and turned back to the screen.
I wandered down the hallway to the main lobby, there were still quite a few employees and clients around, which I found odd for what must have been almost 7 o'clock at night, but then, this was a financial large bank, with lots of clients with different needs.
Suddenly there was the pitter patter of someone half running down the stairs and I looked up to see Ronald scampering down the stairs, assault rifle in hand. He stopped when he got to the bottom, and raised the gun in the air firing twice. I flinched at the noise and dropped my coffee on the floor, reaching instinctively to the small of my back for my gun... which wasn't there, we'd gone without weapons for this one. Dammit.
"This is not a robbery!" Ronald yelled. "Everybody on the floor now!" He fired again in the air when people didn't move immediately, the second lot of shots got everyone panicking, they started screaming and ducking for cover.
"Get down, dammit! Come on! On the floor, on the floor! In the middle!" Ronald yelled at everyone, trying to herd us all. Everyone moved out from behind desks and crouched on the floor by the counters. "On the floor in the middle! In the middle, on the floor, come on!" Ronald was shouting frantic instructions to everyone.
I raised my hands in the air and moved slowly toward him, biding my time, I didn't want to be too close to him, he was waving that weapon around a little too erratically to risk getting caught in panicked cross fire, but I also wanted to be nearby in case an opportunity presented itself to intervene. I crouched near one of the bank tellers and tried to hide my face with my hair a little, hoping Ronald wouldn't recognise me and get panicked – chances are in his state, he'd shoot me thinking I was the mandroid just because he'd seen me once already today. I wasn't so lucky.
"I know you!" Ronald said, looking at me and I grimaced, turning a smile to him.
"Look... Ronald..." I started, trying to placate him.
"What are you doing here? Get over here on the ground!" Ronald said, interrupting me. I stood and came over to kneel in front of him, he was pointing the gun near my chest and I held my breath, worried he might accidentally shoot me more than anything in his highly strung state.
Dean and Sam came walking very quickly into the area, Dean's eyes were flashing angrily at Sam, I'm sure there had to have been a conversation as they came down about Sam's desire to keep the guns back in the car. His eyes sought out mine and checked me over, his breath catching when he saw me on the ground in front of Ronald.
"Hey, buddy," Dean said, turning his attention to Ronald. "Calm down. Just calm down."
"What the – you! Get on the floor, now!" Ronald said, recognising Dean and Sam from earlier.
"Ok, we're doing that. Just don't shoot anybody... especially her." Dean said, looking at me and starting to kneel with Sam, inching a little closer my way.
"I knew it. As soon as you two left. You ain't FBI, who are you? Who are you working for, huh? The men in black?" Sam rolled his eyes at that comment and Dean grinned, he loved the Men in Black. "You working for the mandroid?" Ronald asked when they didn't answer.
"We're not working for the mandroid!" Sam said, exasperated.
"You, shut up! I ain't talking to you, I don't like you!" Ronald yelled and Sam, and Dean looked smugly at his brother. Sam just nodded, putting his hands in the air, falling silent.
Ronald gestured to a middle-aged man and pointed to Dean and Sam. "Get on 'em. Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons on them. Go!" The man frisked them both, finding a knife in Dean's boot. I silently cursed, thinking I should have thought of that.
"Now what have we here?" Ronald said as the man handed him the knife.
Sam looked at Dean rolling his eyes. "What? I'm not just gonna walk in here naked!" Dean muttered.
"Get back there," Ronald said to the hostage, taking the knife and dropping it in the deposit box near him, it clattered to the bottom and Dean looked pained, that was an expensive silver knife.
"No, no, no, no, no," Dean sighed, wincing. He turned back to Ronald. "We know you don't want to hurt anybody. That's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around, why don't you let these people go?"
"No! I already told you. If nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself," Ronald said, looking at Dean.
"Hey, we believe you!" Dean said, trying to win him over. "That's why we're here."
"You don't believe me. Nobody believes me! How could they?" He asked, looking sad and abandoned.
"Come here," Dean said quietly, waving him over with a nod of his head. He attempted to approach Ronald from a friendly manner, anxious to get across to the man that this was not the way to bring down the mandroid.
"What?" Ronald said, confused. "No!"
"You're holding the gun, boss, you're calling the shots. I just want to tell you something. Come here," Dean said, not taking his eyes of Ronald.
Ronald approached Dean cautiously and leaned in.
"It's the bank manager," Dean said quietly to the man, just loud enough for me to hear as well. My eyes widened, clearly they'd spotted the shapeshifter on screen while I'd come down for coffee.
"What?" Ronald asked, looking confused.
"Why do you think we've got these getups, huh? We've been monitoring the cameras in the back. We saw the bank manager, we saw his eyes." Dean said.
"His laser eyes?" Ronald asked, looking anxious.
"Yes." Dean said then shook his head. "No. No! No, look we're running out of time ok? We've got to find him before he changes into someone else."
"Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar." Ronald said angrily to him. Dean started to stand and I closed my eyes, not wanting to watch.
"I'll shoot you! Get down!" Ronald yelled at him.
"Take me. Okay? Take me with you, take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Because the longer we just sit here the more time he has to change." Dean said, trying to reason with him.
"Look at him Ronald, he's not kidding, we believe you, you're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank." I said to him and he looked down at me, conflicted.
"All right. You come with me," he said to Dean. "But everyone else gets in the vault!"
He waved us all to our feet and ushered us toward the vault, herding us in like cattle. "Come on, move, move! Move, move!" Ronald said, waving the gun around.
Sam and I were last to enter, hands still in the air. I looked at Sam, worried, and dropped my hands, running one across my face.
"You lock it up," Ronald said to Dean, who started to move the heavy door, looking in at us.
"It's ok, everyone. Just stay cool," Dean said, his eyes meeting mine with an apologetic look and a shrug as he slammed the door shut. There was the sickening sound of the vault handle being spun around, we were trapped. I leaned against Sam feeling a little anxious.
A young auburn haired girl named Sherry was staring after Dean.
"Who is that man?" She asked in awe.
"He's my brother," Sam said quietly, putting his arm around my shoulders and looking down at me.
"He is so brave!" Sherry said, Sam and I both rolled our eyes at the same time, shaking our heads. Great... just great.
Dean's POV
As soon as I got a chance, I shrugged out of that ridiculous security jumpsuit Sammy had me wearing. It was expensive, so I threw it over my shoulder, but was grateful to be back in my jeans and shirt. Ronald was conducting a routine search of all the offices in the bank.
He led the way into a series of offices, gun at the ready.
"Check behind the desk," I said to him, nodding at where I wanted him to go. I moved to check the back room and heard Ronald yell and hit the ground. I spun back into the room, and then I saw it. Lying next to Ronald on the floor was a slimy piece of skin. I grimaced. Ronald saw it, screaming and jumping back, pointing his gun at it.
"What the hell is that?!" Ronald exclaimed.
I turned the lamp toward the pile of skin, sighing as I crouched down. "Ahhh Great," I muttered. I looked at Ronald, willing him to get the severity of our situation. "When it changes form it sheds it's old skin. So now it could be anybody again."
Ronald picked up a piece of skin and smelled it. "It's so, it's so weird. Its robot skin is so lifelike," he said.
I felt myself get a little frustrated at the poor guy, he was trying, he really was but he just wasn't working with a full deck of cards.
"Okay, let's get something straight. It's not a mandroid. It's a shapeshifter." I said to him.
"Shapeshifter?" Ronald asked, confused.
"Yeah. I mean, it's human, more or less. Has human drives, and in this case it's money. But it generates its own skin, it can shape it to match someone else's features, you know, taller, shorter, male," I explained to him.
"So it, it kills someone and then takes their place." Ronald asked, trying to get his head around it.
"Kills them, doesn't kill them, I don't think it really matters." I said, searching around in the desk.
"What are you doing?" Ronald asked.
I found what I was looking for in the desk drawer, a letter opener, and it lifted it up to examine it. Silver. I sighed with relief.
"Nice," I said, looking at Ronald. "You remember the old werewolf stories? Pretty much came from these guys. Silver's the only thing I've seen that hurts them." I told him, heading for the door. Ronald hesitated and I looked back at him. "Come on Ronald!" The man grimaced at the skin, but then followed me with a big grin on his face, it was as if he was having a the time of his life on this hunt. I smirked, thinking about how many times I'd been like that, and I couldn't say I blamed him, at times a hunt could be exhilarating.
Ronald was still chuckling to himself as we walked down the hallway. I turned to look at him.
"What are you nuts?" I asked.
"That's just it. I'm not nuts. I mean, I was so scared that I was losing my marbles. But this is real! I mean, I, I was right! Except for the mandroid thing. Thank you." He looked at me all doe-eyed and I cringed at the chick-flick moment.
"Yeah, don't mention it," I said to him, and I meant it... really, don't mention it.
Suddenly the power cut out and a few emergency lights clicked on.
"Dammit! No, no, no, no, no..." I said looking around, trying to gauge our situation.
"What? What is it?" Ronald asked, looking startled.
"They cut the power. Probably their way of saying hi," I said to him.
"Who?" Ronald asked.
"The cops," I said matter-of-factly to him, who the hell did he think I was talking about?
"The cops?!" Ronald asked, looking shocked.
I stopped to look at him, fighing back the urge to hit him in the face. "Well, you weren't exactly a smooth criminal about this, Ron. I mean, you didn't even secure the security guard. He probably called them." I pointed out.
"Well, I, I didn't think to..." Ronald started to explain.
"All right, hang on, hang on," I said shushing him, "Let's just take a breath here for a second, all right? They — they've probably got us surrounded. They've cut the power to the cameras so there's no way of telling who the shapeshifter is." I said, taking a breath. "It's not looking good, Ron."
Ronald flinched upon hearing a noise, bringing his gun up.
"Did you hear that?" I asked, looking up.
Beth's POV
Sherry had been harping on for the last half hour about how wonderful Dean was, and it was starting to drive me nuts. I bit my lip as she continued to follow Sam around the vault, the latter looked slightly uncomfortable, rolling his eyes at me occasionally.
"Has your brother always been so, um, wonderful? I mean, staring down that gun. And you know, the way he played right into that psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to hear, I mean... he's like a real hero, or, or something."
I thought about vomiting on her, I really did, but didn't really have it in me.
"Yeah, yeah," Sam agreed with Sherry, trying to get away from her.
The door opened to reveal Dean, now carrying a handgun, and I looked up at him from where I was sitting on the floor, back against the wall.
"Oh my god, you saved us! You saved us!" Sherry exclaimed excitedly at him.
Dean looked her and raised his eyebrow. "Actually, I just found a few more," he said, pulling back to wave others into the vault. "Come on everybody, let's go, let's go."
Sherry looked devastated at him, I just sighed. Dean looked at me all of a sudden, frowning when he saw me on the floor. He came in to kneel and look at me.
"You ok?" He asked, and I shook my head negatively. It was really hot in the vault now the power had gone out, and I was feeling sick.
"What are you doing?" Sherry asked him, looking at him anxiously.
Dean ignored her and helped me to my feet. "Come on," he said, leading me to the door by the arm. "Sam, look, uh, Ronald and I need to talk to you," Dean said and Sam moved to follow us.
Dean looked apologetically at everyone back in the vault and then closed the door again.
"It's shed its skin again," Dean said as soon as we were all alone. "We don't know when – it could be in the halls, it could be in the vault."
"Great." I muttered, looking around at the darkened bank, seeing lights flashing outside. "You know, Dean, you are wanted by the police," I said, starting to feel a little panicked. Dean looked at me, trying to hide the worry in his eyes.
"Yeah." He said with a smile that belied his true feelings. I swallowed, this wasn't good – I had visions of raising our baby on my own while Dean rotted on death row for the next thirty years.
"Even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?" Sam asked furtively.
Dean paused and looked at him. "Well, one problem at a time. All right, I'm gonna do a sweep of the whole place, see if we can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together we've got to play a little game of find-the-freak, so . . . here." He handed Sam a silver letter opener. "Found another one of these for you. Now stay here, make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody, okay? Help him manage the situation."
"Help him manage? Are you insane?" Sam asked loudly. Dean looked past Sam at Ronald who was staring at the three of us now, looking anxious. Dean held both thumbs up at him and smiled reassuringly at the man.
"Look, I know this isn't going the way we wanted..." Dean said quietly to Sam.
"Understatement!" Sam yelled back at him.
"Sam!" I said, frowning, earning me a glare.
"If we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, ok?" Dean argued, and he was right.
Ronald was peering out the window, standing in plain view and I rolled my eyes. Sam gestured at him in exasperation.
"Ronald!" I said to him urgently. "Get out of the light!" The man turned and looked at us, then slunk into the shadows.
"Seriously?!" Sam asked, angry.
"Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan..." Dean said, "I mean, it was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now crazy's the only game in town, okay?"
Dean slapped Sam on the shoulder and went to leave. Sam sighed, leaning back against a desk and rolling his eyes. I didn't even wait, following straight after Dean.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked me as I caught up with him.
"You think I'm gonna stay there with Rambo? He's as likely to shoot me by accident than be of any help," I said with a raised eyebrow.
Dean looked at me and sighed. "Yeah well, going after a shapeshifter right now isn't a great idea either," he said.
"Well option three is go back into the vault, and if I do that I am going to vomit all over miss pretty in there, all right? I don't think anyone is gonna like that!" I said, frowning at him.
Dean sighed and nodded. "All right! OK! Just... look can you stay here with Sam, please?" He said, uncharacteristically asking me instead of giving an order. It stayed me, and I paused, looking at him – his eyes were full of worry and I could see I was a major reason for it. I swallowed and nodded my agreement.
Dean smiled, reaching in to kiss me quickly, pressing his forehead to mine briefly before heading off down one of the dark hallways.
I turned to Sam, sighing. "We better give these people some air, it was really sticky in there," I said and he nodded, walking over to the vault.
He eased the door back, peeking into the vault. "I'm going to leave this open. Give you guys some fresh air, all right?" Sam said, "But no one leaves this vault."
The phone on one of the desks started ringing and Ronald spun around looking panicked.
"I don't understand, why are you helping him?" Sherry asked Sam from inside the vault.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Sam answered with a sigh.
Ronald walked over and picked up the phone before I had a chance to stop him.
"Hello?" He said.
The okie-dokie guard from earlier was in the vault and looking pained. "I think I gotta get out of here!" He exclaimed, looking for all intents and purposes like he was going to have a heart-attack.
"Look, I'm very sorry, but you're just going to have to stay put, all right?" Sam said, I was walking over to join hm.
"What? What do you mean, demands?" Ronald said into the phone.
"Ronald! Hang up!" I instructed him, but he ignored me.
"No, I, I'm not a bank robber, I..." Ronald stuttered under the line of questioning from the police.
"I've got to really get out of here," the guard said and I glanced back at Sam.
"Sir, you can't leave!" I heard Sam say and I felt conflicted.
"Kind of a crime fighter, I guess." Ronald said to the police negotiator.
"Ronald!" I exclaimed reaching for the phone, but he stepped away from me, listening to the other end.
A couple of men were helping the guard to the door, he was now still breathing very heavily, struggling to stand.
"Look..." Sam tried to reason and I started back to the vault.
"No, I'm acting alone," I heard Ronald say and I at him, slamming down the phone, glaring at him.
"Ronald? The less the cops know, the better!" I said, frustrated. This man was totally going to get us all killed, that was if I didn't kill him with my own bare hands!
"Hey!" A man called out to us. "I think this dude's having a heart attack!"
I frowned, rejoining Sam who was looking pained.
"Great, could be our guy, could be a trick," he said to me.
"You just going to let the man die?"
"No one's dying in here!" Sam said and sighed. "Call them," he said to me, then looked at Ronald. "Cover her!" He instructed Rambo.
I crossed back to the phone and picked up the handset, finding the line still open.
"Hello?" I said in to the phone, listening.
"Can you tell me how many hostages this guy's taken?" A voice came back at me.
"Look, one of the people could be having a heart attack, you need to send in a paramedic," I said, glancing over at Sam, he looked grim.
"Look, ma'am we're going to..." The man tried to argue with me and I felt my patience slip.
"Just send in the paramedic, ok?! And don't try anything else! Please."
"Paramedic?" The man with the guard said. "We don't have time for that, man!" He looked up Sam.
"Listen, I'm sorry ok? I am. But nobody's getting out," Sam said.
"He's dying right in front of you," the man said to Sam and my brother looked conflicted.
The man was still holding the guard when Dean got back to us. The guard was starting to look panicked and was breathing painfully.
"Come on man, you've got to open up the door. We've got to get him out of here," he argued with us.
Ronald cocked the rifle and aimed it at them. "Both of you stay where you are."
Dean crossed the room, whispering inaudibly to Sam. Sam nodded and went to the vault.
"You know, Ronald? He's right, we've got to get this man outside. Come on. I've got you." Sam said, taking the guard from the man who had been helping him.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll help you," the man offered, looking desperate.
"Oh, I got him, it's cool. Thanks," Sam said with a smile and nod.
Sam removed the guard from the vault and Dean glared at the man who had been helping the guard. I realised by Dean's body language that he recognised this man, and it had to be the shapeshifter, my thoughts were confirmed when Dean asked him to step outside.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Dean asked him. He shrugged, walking toward the front of the vault.
"Hey, you got the gun, man. I mean, whatever." He looked casually at Dean but when he got close enough he attacked Dean, knocking him to the ground and running into a dark hallway.
"Dean!" I called out, helping him to his feet. Dean swore and started to move off after him.
"Stop! Come back here!" Ronald shouted, racing after the shapeshifter with the gun pointed. It put him in the open and I heard Sam yelling across the room at Ronald almost right away.
"Get down! Now!" There was a laser target at Ronald's back and then somebody fired, taking him out, hitting Ronald squarely in the chest. Dean ducked behind a safe, pulling me with him and I fell into his lap, reeling as Ronald fell to the floor. Ronald slumped to his knees and then crumpled, hitting the floor dead.
In the panic of Ronald getting shot the hostages all ran out of the vault. Dean was creeping toward Ronald behind another low wall near where he'd fallen, I was right beside him, staying low. Sam ducked down near us and handed Dean the key to the padlock out front.
"Here. Take care of the guard, I'm going after the shifter," Sam said and Dean looked a little shocked, not even bothering to argue. Dean crawled over toward Ronald, keeping low behind the benches in the room.
"Sorry Ron, you did a real good job tracking this thing, you really did," he muttered, looking up at me. He picked up the fallen rifle that he'd been moving toward, looking around, and then ran off toward the guard.
I looked hesitantly out toward all the police vehicles as Dean brought the guard around to the door. Using the key Sam had given Dean, I unchained the locks and opened the inner doors.
Dean pushed the guard ahead of him. "Everything's going to be all right," he told the man who was panting and in a lot of pain.
The doors swung open and I stepped back into the shadows. "No, don't shoot! Don't shoot! Please!" The guard called out to the SWAT team that was waiting on the other side.
"No, no no no no! Don't even think about it!" Dean called out to them, brandishing his weapon.
"Please! Don't shoot!" The guard said again and stepped forward into the street.
Dean took a look around at all the vehicles and then backed into the foyer with a curse. "Son of a..." He looked at me, resignation in his eyes, he didn't see how we were getting out of here.
"You should go," Dean said to me, but I shook my head.
"No way, I'm not leaving you here," I said, tears in my eyes.
He sighed, "They don't know you, for all they know you're just another hostage," he tried to reason, but I stubbornly shook my head.
"I don't care!" I said. "We do this together, or not at all Dean!"
"We are so screwed," Dean muttered to me, and I grimaced. His phone started to ring and he picked it up.
"Yeah?" He said, putting it on speaker.
"Slipped his skin," Sam said over the phone.
"What?" Dean asked, surprised.
"Yeah, bastard shifts fast. A lot faster than the one in St Louis," Sam said. We were still stuck in this bank with a shape shifter who had so far managed to give us the brush off.
"God it's like playing the shell game. It could be anybody. Again!" Dean complained, looking around us as if expecting to see the shapeshifter come up at any moment.
"Yeah, I think most of the employees are out of the vault by now," Sam said.
"All right, you search every inch of this place, we're gonna go round everybody up," Dean said, looking over at me.
It didn't take long to get everyone back in the vault. The girl from earlier, who had been all moon-eyed over Dean gave him a glare this time as he waved her into the vault.
"And I thought you were one of the good guys," she chided him.
"What's your name?" Dean asked her and she looked at him.
"Why would you care?" She asked, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked at him with tears in her eyes, defeated and resigned to being trapped yet again at gun point.
"My name's Dean," he said softly and I looked at him curious, it was said with such a gentle tone, one he rarely used. I paused to look at him, something was not right here, he was... scared?
"I'm Sherry," the girl said to him.
"Hi Sherry. Everything going to be all right," Dean promised her, and she looked at him disbelieving. "This will all be over soon."
He turned on his heel and walked toward me, ushering me back out into the bank. Dean turned and shut the vault door again, spinning the lock just as one of the phones started ringing. He looked at me, sighing and laid his handgun down on the table, hesitating for a split second before picking up the phone and hitting the speaker button next to the handset.
"Yeah?" Dean said into the phone shortly.
"This is Special Agent Victor Henriksen," a voice sounded over the line. I swallowed hard. Shit. The Feds were here too. Just how had this escalated to a FBI problem in such a short amount of time?
"Yeah, listen, I'm not really in the negotiating mood right now," Dean said, his shoulders slumped as he looked at the phone scowling.
"Good. Me neither. It's my job to bring you in; alive's a bonus but not necessary." I felt my heart skip a beat, there was a FBI task force here for the specific reason to bring in Dean? I closed my eyes and cursed that last shapeshifter, god damn them they were nothing but a damn problem whenever we came across them.
"Whoa," Dean said, a little surprised. "Kinda harsh for a Federal Agent, don't you think?" His eyes met mine, a fire catching behind his hazel orbs, he was feeling the walls starting to close in, the seriousness of this situation had just been ramped up to a 20/10.
"Well you're not the typical suspect, are you, Dean?" Dean looked at me, horrified and we both shared the same question. How the hell did he know who Dean was, and that Dean was here? "I want you and Sam out here, unarmed. Or we come in. And yes, I know about Sam. Bonnie to your Clyde."
Dean chucked looking at me. He knew I hated that no one seemed to know who I was, he knew I just wanted to get recognised once in a while – and that Fed couldn't have used a worse analogy – just months ago I'd been wanting to be Bonnie to Dean's Clyde. I scowled silently and Dean grinned at me. "Yeah well, that part's true, but how'd you even know we were here?"
"Go screw yourself, that how I knew. It's become my job to know about you Dean. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis. I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad." I started to open my mouth to retort about his supposed knowledge of John, but Dean held a hand up to me, indicating I should hold my tongue.
"Hey, you don't know crap about my dad," Dean said darkly into the phone.
"Ex-marine, raised his kids on the road, cheap motels, backwoods cabins. Real paramilitary survivalist type. I just can't get a handle on what type of whacko he was. White supremacist, Timmy McVeigh, to-may-to, to-mah-to." Henriksen made a point about how it was all just a matter of perspective as to whether or not John and consequently all hunters were either heroes, or crazy survivalist vigilantes out killing on a power trip.
"You got no right talking about my dad like that. He was a hero." Dean said quietly, anger simmering below the surface.
"Yeah. Right. Sure sounds like it. You have one hour to make a decision or we come through those doors full automatic." Dean hung his head with a sigh and pounded his fist into his forehead, hanging up the phone.
"Give me the key," I said to Dean, moving toward the door. He ran around the desk and grabbed my arm.
"What?" He asked, looking at me confused.
"Give me the key, I'm going out there... you know what, better yet, get me out the back somehow, I can grab a homeland security badge from the car, and get in to deal with Henriksen," I said, looking up at Dean frantically, someone had to be on the ground out there, and I was the only one he wasn't looking for.
"It's a little late for that now Beth," Dean said to me, his eyes softening. "You and I both know that hour was bogus, we'll be lucky if we've got ten minutes." I nodded, worried and scared.
Sam came running back into the main bank foyer and we looked at him.
"Hey. We've got a bit of a problem outside," Dean said, rubbing his hand across his eyes.
"We've got a problem in here," Sam said looking at us. "Who have you got rounded up in there?" He nodded toward the vault.
"Most of them," I said, "everyone we could find anyway."
"Is that girl in there?" Sam asked me, indicating with his eyes that I knew which pain the ass he was talking about.
"Who Sherry?" I asked, he nodded. "Yeah, she's in there."
"No she's not," Sam said. "I just found her body shoved in a closet. I turned to look at the vault. Game on.
We opened the vault and Dean stepped inside with Sam, brandishing the rifle.
"Sherry? We're going to let you go," Dean said while everyone else looked at them.
"What? Why me?" Sherry asked suspiciously.
"Uh, as a show of good faith to the Feds, come on," Dean said, urging her out.
"I think I'd... I'd rather stay here, with the others," Sherry said worriedly, stepping back among the other employees.
Dean approached her and I took a moment to think about how scary that situation would be as a young woman, here she was, at gun point and two pretty intimidating men were insisting she come out with them, alone. I know what I'd be thinking if I were an attractive young woman in her shoes, if she were human anyway, and it was utterly terrifying.
I pushed past Dean and Sam, looking at them.
"You're scaring her," I said, turning to look at them. I took a risk, hoping it would pay off. Because if it didn't, I was putting myself in reach of a monster that wouldn't hesitate to kill me and my child. I was hoping it wasn't stupid enough to give up it's cover.
"Sherry," I said to her. "They're not going to do anything to you, I swear. But you need to come with us now."
Once out of the vault, I led Sherry back to the hallway, away from the door. "I thought you were letting me go," Sherry said, looking at me confused.
"Yeah, uh, sorry Sherry, I lied." I said to her, looking apologetic. Dean and Sam weren't the only scary people in this bank, I thought ruefully. Dean came up behind us and took her arm, shoving her into an office where Sherry's real body was lying, dead. He spun her around to look at the body and when she saw it, she freaked out.
Sherry launched herself back from Dean, screaming hysterically as she collided with Sam, who grabbed her, brandishing his silver letter opener in the air.
"Is that community theatre, or are you just naturally that good?" Dean asked, watching the display of hysteria.
"This is the last time you become anybody. Ever." Sam said melodramatically. Sherry pulled back, looking at the dagger, then glancing at me. "Oh god! Oh!" She fainted, falling to the ground.
We stared at her, and Dean exchanged a baffled look with Sam. Dean removed his rifle and took out the silver letter opener from his jacket, kneeling so he could position himself over her. He raised the blade, preparing to ram it home. I was looking back and forth between the two bodies, something seeming horribly wrong.
"Dean, wait. Wait, wait." I said, taking his arm in my hand. "What's the advantage of this plan? I mean, fainting now wouldn't help it survive."
Dean paused, considering. "Huh," he said out loud, nodding and looking back at the other body.
He got up and knelt over by the other body, examining it, a thoughtful expression on his face. There was a sound of breaking glass, and I startled, looking out into the main room – we were fresh out of time, the Feds were coming in. Dean and Sam also looked in the direction of the sound, and that's when the shapeshifter made it's move. The dead Sherry suddenly sprung to life, grabbing Dean by the throat. Dean struggled to get a foothold against it, he broke free of one hand attempting to stab the creature.
The real Sherry woke up, screaming again, and clamored to her feet, falling into Sam's arms. "Oh god! Oh god!" She said over and over. I pushed Sam and her toward the door.
"Get her out of here, now!" I said, taking Sam's silver letter opener out of his hand. "We need to find a way out of here!" I said to him urgently. Sam hesitated for a second and then nodded. The whole interaction took just a few seconds, Dean was still struggling with the shifter, who was strong, and I spun back to help.
The shifter kneed Dean in the side of his torso, breaking loose and running, shoving me out of the way. I regained my footing and raced after it, Dean hot on my heels. The creature headed down a flight of stairs into the boiler room. Dean and I paused at the door, exchanging a cautious glance before he nodded and I pushed the door open, letting him take the lead.
We flanked each other, heading deeper into the boiler room. There was a noise behind us and Dean grabbed me, pulling me behind a wall into the shadows and then when they looked in the other direction, we silently backed down another hallway, disappearing from their view.
Inside another room, we separated for a moment to cover the larger area, silver daggers in hand. I swallowed hard, crouching into a defensive posture to give myself the best protection possible, my eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. I heard Dean grunt and looked over a few benches to see the shapeshifter and Dean in a stand off.
Dean settled into a fighting stance, eyes on the shifter, taking a swipe at it with the knife, missing, but landing a blow from his other fist. The shifter got in a punch too and they tussled, seemingly evenly matched. Dean got in a couple of head-butts by the time I reached their side of the room. I hesitated, it was hard to come in on a hand-to-hand combat situation, especially with Dean, one of us could get hurt, so I stood back, waiting to see how things went down.
Dean swung at her again with the knife, the shifter grabbed Dean's wrist, struggling to keep the blade from itself, Dean grunted, grasping at her forearm, a piece of skin coming peeling away in his hand. Dean looked at it for a moment and shuddered.
"Gross," he said, shaking his head. The shifter responded with a swift kick to his groin and Dean doubled over. She kneed him several times in the face and Dean went down. I was moving in an instant. The shifter went to kick Dean as he lay on the ground and I moved with a quiet confidence, blocking the kick with my forearms, grasping its ankle and twisting, forcing the shifter to spin. I shoved it against the wall and threw my full body weight in against it. It struggled, spinning to face me, and Dean pushed in from the side, having struggled to his feet. He threw his right forearm up against the creature's throat, pinning it to the wall. It allowed me to take a slight step back and then drive my silver blade into it's chest. I felt it sink in, driving home.
I stared into Dean's eyes as he held the creature in place until it was no longer moving. We were both breathing heavily, and I leaned my head against his shoulder for a moment, relieved. Dean stepped back, releasing the creature and allowing it to slide to the floor, putting his arms around me and holding me close, his chest heaving as I rested against him.
Footsteps sounded behind us and we turned to see a SWAT member behind us, I panicked and stepped back, almost falling into the body of the creature. Dean put himself between me and the SWAT member, assessing.
Instead of barking orders at us, the officer moved up to take off their helmet. I sagged, laughing as Sam's smiling face beamed out at us.
"You wanted a way out?" He asked me, and I grinned. Perfect.
Sam had procured one more SWAT uniform, having taken out two of them single-handedly. I took a moment to think about how SWAT was the best of the best, and here Sam was taking out two of them alone. Not for the first time in my life did I send a silent thank you to John for having trained us, and trained us well.
Dean was shrugging into the last of the body armour, and pulled the helmet over his head with a flourish. "Come on miss, let's get you and your baby to safety," he said with a chuckle and I grinned, allowed these two SWAT men to escort me out of the bank.
A distinguished looking African-American in a suit and tie, wearing a blue jacket with yellow writing proclaiming "FBI" was stalking toward the bank as we exited, I pretended to lean heavily on the boys, exaggerating my pregnancy as an excuse. The man ignored us and walked right past, barking orders at other police officers. I recognised his voice, it was Henriksen from the phone call earlier.
Dean put a more secure arm around my waist and led me away toward the parking building. Once we were past the emergency vehicles barricading the entire area, the boys released me from their grip, and we ran up the couple of flights of stairs toward where we had parked. They started to peel off their helmets as we reached the Impala.
I went to climb into the back of the car but Dean stopped me, looking into my eyes, seeing the blood that was all down my front, staining the suit I was wearing. He rested a hand on my stomach and swallowed. "You ok?" He asked. I smiled and nodded, kissing him gently before pulling back.
"We're good, nothing to worry about," I said reassuringly. Dean nodded and then opened the back door for me, I slid on to the back seat and leaned forward. Sam was sitting there, breathing heavily, looking thoughtful. Dean climbed in next to him and looked back at us both, a frown on his face.
"We are so screwed," he said with a sigh. Sam flinched and nodded ever so slightly. I chewed on my lip and ran my hands up over my face and through my hair. We'd figure it out, we'd have to, it was either that or we were looking at a move, permanently South, real down South, as in Rio De Janeiro south.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
The song for this episode is: Halfway There by Soundgarden
Sorry about the delay of the update, I've had a good reason I swear!
I've been beta reading and collaborating on a fun and exciting project with my friend EarthhAngel. She's in the process of writing a John Winchester / OC fan fic and I must say, I am LOVING it! I swear I'm in danger of becoming more obsessed with it than I am Dean & Beth (though not quite) Chapter 1 will be up soon, and I'll be linking to it because of the simple fact that BETH is in there too!
Yep, we're crossing over into each other's verses and it looks great :) I mention it here because her OC is going to feature on occasion in my own storyline from this point on, and I'll be going back to edit one or two chapters to reference her so there is continuity.
She's exactly what I was looking for in order to progress the storyline I want to work with in Seasons 5 & 6. I had been struggling with a particular storyline and how it would work given the limited support characters I had, and the introduction of this OC is very timely – plus she's just all kinds of cool! (and you get to see a bit of Dean & Beth pre-relationship angst from 3rd party view!)
Anyway, stay tuned, I'm sure the chapter will be up soon, and I'll be sharing. Or you can go over to EarthhAngel's profile and follow her as an author now :D If you like my story, I think you're going to really enjoy hers too. Don't be put off by her profile, I'm going to MAKE HER finish this story! LOL (hugs to EA)
Hope this chapter was worth the wait, please leave me a review and let me know what you think!