Author's Note:Zomg!! I is back!! *faints from shock* I've saved all my ranting for the end of the chapter (don't you hate lengthy author's notes that take up the beginning?). Anywho, hope you enjoy!
--
Thomas was not happy.
Circumstances could have been much worse, all things considered, but this did little to comfort him as he stared listlessly out the car window. Chasing Bella from Chicago to Towne Pointless, Nebraska had taken the better part of thirty hours. More accurately, it had taken the Beetle that long to make the trip. The disgruntled man grumbled under his breath at the memory.
When searching Bella's Chicago home had turned up nothing, Harry had set out immediately to continue the hunt. Thomas agreed whole heartedly that time was a critical factor in finding both Bella and Bob, but he'd begged his brother--pleaded with him, even--to sacrifice the extra thirty minutes it would have taken to get his Hummer. Harry wouldn't hear any of it, however. The wizard had been enraged, half mad in his desire to hunt down the thief and use her as an outlet for the hatred and guilt he felt for himself. Thomas never wanted to see that look on his little brother's face again.
Still, he had to admit to himself that he hadn't felt much different after seeing Murphy go down. A sigh ghosted his lips as the events of the previous weekend climbed unbidden to the forefront of his mind.
Harry may have been quickly gaining legendary status in the supernatural community, but a little known truth about his adventures was that more often then not he survived simply through blind luck. In the case of the Black Court's latest attack on his apartment, his luck showed its face in the form of three visitors already inside with him (namely Murphy, Butters, and his ever timely and fashionable big brother). Thomas shuddered to think of what might have happened to the wizard if they hadn't been there to back him up.
Still, despite the speed and strength gifted to their court, the attacking vampires were young…and stupid. Had Bella not decided to pull her betrayal mid fight, everyone probably could have gotten out unscathed. That possibility, however, went up in flames the moment Bob's indignant sputtering sounded from the darkness. Thomas himself hadn't heard it, pinned as he was been beneath one of their attackers, but Harry did. From his vantage point, all Thomas saw was Dresden suddenly turn and yell at something further down the street. Murphy spared a quick glance over her shoulder to check on the wizard. Her look took less than a second, but that was all the time a vampire playing opossum needed to snake across the ground with blinding speed and rake its nails across the sergeant's stomach.
Time had slowed after that. Thomas watched in horror as Murphy fell slowly, even as her attacker rose from the grass. He was still grappling with his weakening opponent; there was no way he would have been able to reach her. Harry was too far away as well, his staff blaring as it prepared for a spell that would have been far too late. It was one of those moments of perfect clarity, when Thomas knew there was nothing that could be done.
It had been tiny, owlish Butters that made the shot.
Thomas finally broke his attacker's hold, managing to gain control over their struggle. He hadn't seen Murphy's assailant's head suddenly explode into tiny bits of gore. He'd heard the bark of a gun, but when he was finally able to spare her another glance, all he saw was Butters standing a few feet away from her, large eyes blinking comically, Thomas' discarded shotgun still smoking in his hands.
Everything after that point was a blur of filmy eyes, raspy hisses, and the bone chilling sound of Harry's casting. Once he was certain that all of the vampires were finally and completely dead, he'd descended back into Dresden's living room where Butters had dragged Murphy. The ME's initiative comforted Thomas somewhat. He knew Butters would never have moved Murphy if she were in critical condition.
The sight that greeted him once he passed the threshold, though, was less than encouraging. Murphy lay on the floor, her shirt shoved up around her neck, blood seeping into the rug beneath her. Butters was at her side, the contents of a first aid kit and several blood-soaked towels strewn about him as he worked frantically, thin lips set in a solemn line. Harry knelt on her other side, helping Butters as best he could. The wizard followed his directions quickly and efficiently, but there was a fae light in his eyes, a trembling in the set of his shoulders, that sent a chill down Thomas' spine.
And empty night, Murphy was still awake.
"There's an ambulance on the way," Butters said, almost managing to keep his voice from shaking.
Murphy flinched and managed to rasp, "Need to be gone, Harry…hard to explain."
"Like hell," Dresden ground out, his words clipped and almost unintelligible from the growl that emerged from his chest.
She somehow managed to glare without opening her eyes. "Can't let her have Bob."
"You're an idiot if you think I'm going to leave-"
"She's right," Thomas cut him off. Dresden whirled to face him, eyes wild, and he was tempted to take a step back. He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to stay calm and measured in the face of his brother's near panic. "She looks bad, but it's just a stomach wound, Harry. With help on the way and Butters working on her now, she shouldn't be in any immediate danger. Bob's a different story, though. For all we know, Bella could already be handing him off to someone. We need to find her now before she has the chance to do any more harm."
Harry quite literally snarled. He opened his mouth to say something, but shut it with an audible click and shoved a hand in his hair, unconsciously smearing some of Murphy's blood across his forehead. His eyes darted from Murph, to the door, to the basement's trapdoor and back, obviously frantically torn. Finally his eyes focused on Butters, and the ME answered his unspoken question without looking up.
"A-as long as nothing's perforated and help gets here soon enough she should be fine. The big worry is infection, but we'll need time to know for sure on that one." Thomas winced, remembering the decaying, grime-encrusted fingers of the Black Court. "But Harry," Butters lifted his eyes with effort to look Dresden in the face, "even if you stayed here, you wouldn't be able to be in the hospital with her."
Butters might as well have slapped the wizard with that last statement. His shoulders stiffened even more and his head lowered, but it was clear that he'd made his decision. With heartbreaking tenderness, he brushed a lock of hair away from Murphy's face and pressed a small kiss to her forehead. Harry's harsh whisper could be heard clearly in the silent room, "I'm going to find Bob, and then I'm going to come back for you."
Murphy nodded sluggishly, eyes unfocused.
Slowly, Dresden rose to his feet and headed for the door. As for Thomas, he didn't need to be asked. He fell in silent step behind his brother.
The obnoxious sound of tapping fingers pulled Thomas from his reverie. A moment later, he realized the noise was coming from his own hand and clenched his fist against the urge. Teeth ground but his face remained impassive as he pondered how long it had been since his last feeding. Truthfully, it had been far too long. The fight at Harry's apartment, on top of the hunt for Bella, plus yet another fight at the Winchesters' hotel had put a serious strain on his reserves; raising his tension level and plunging him into a foul mood at best.
Thomas didn't miss the fact that Harry had oh-so-shrewdly placed himself between his brother and Bella for the return trip. Part of him longed to be annoyed, even insulted at the gesture. However he couldn't deny the sense of relief he'd felt either. Driving across three states pressed against a practically gift-wrapped morsel that he already couldn't stand was a wee bit too much temptation, even for him. Had he sat beside Bella, things would have most likely ended badly. Well… "badly" really depended on the perspective.
Truthfully, he had no problem with stealing a bit from Bella, but the fact remained that he was exhausted and starving and there was no guarantee that he'd be able to stop himself in time. He had faith in his ability to keep from killing her, but without another food source lined up (such as a line of customers to care for), he wasn't so sure he wouldn't overindulge, leaving her unconscious and the brothers with some explaining to do.
He hadn't even realized that he'd begun staring at the woman until her ragged breathing reached his ears. She peered around Dresden, a look of confused fascination furrowing her brow as the fingertips of one hand unconsciously traced her collar bone. Her other hand twitched slightly as though fighting the urge to use Harry's lap as leverage to climb across the back seat.
Alarm bells began ringing in his head, that little angel on his shoulder telling Thomas that he needed to back off. He meant to listen to it, honestly, but not before a flash of sadistic humor had him reaching out with a small bit of his power, gently brushing along her cheek before withdrawing completely. Bella gasped at the contact, causing Dean to shoot her a curious glance from the driver's seat. She flushed with embarrassment as soon as Thomas' power extracted and leaned back against her window, one hand nervously smoothing her hair.
Harry cocked an eyebrow at his older brother, his look clearly saying: Ok, that was funny, but watch yourself.
Thomas returned the stare with one of equal intensity: I know what I'm doing, mind your own damn business.
He received another wizardly eyebrow, probably for good measure, before Dresden relaxed against the seat and returned to attempting a nap.
---
Thomas was almost giddy to note that they entered Chicago proper after a measly sixteen hours on the road. His previous trip with Harry had been slowed by the wizard's constant scrying and the Beetle's baleful rattles whenever they went too fast for its liking. Dean, on the other hand, acted as though any speed without three digits was a religious offence. As exhilarating as the ride had been, though, Thomas' muscles screamed to be freed from the cramped rear seat and, he noted with a slight curl of his lip, Harry's leg was sweaty where it pressed against his.
His hunger had steadily danced behind his eyes as time carried on. It felt as though someone had screwed a faucet into his back and was letting all of his energy pour into the car seat, leaving his skin feeling thin and stretched. A manic giggle almost escaped his lips, "Thin…like butter spread over too much bread…" Yeah, that was pretty much exactly how he felt. It was to be expected though. His salon wasn't due to open for another several hours and Thomas found himself thinking yet again that it wouldn't be terribly wrong for him to take just a little from Bella. The whole fiasco was her fault, after all.
He gritted his teeth against the thought, but the hunger was growing into a steady pressure inside his head. Thomas gingerly pressed fingers against his temple, trying to impose some kind of calm upon himself, but the feeling only scattered into his shoulders and spine. Suddenly his eyes snapped open.
That wasn't hunger he was feeling.
Thomas opened his mouth to shout a warning, but it was Harry's voice that sounded out.
"Stop!" the wizard barked, hands gripping the seats in front of him.
Dean responded with a soldier's reflexes, foot hitting the break before his mind had fully processed Dresden's command. As everyone was thrown forward, the full brunt of whatever power they'd driven into washed over Thomas. He found himself gasping involuntarily and saw an answering tightening around his brother's eyes. To his surprise, Sam groaned and grabbed his forehead, obviously feeling it too. The rush of magic was over in seconds, seemingly harmless aside from its abrupt presence. Thomas had a moment of anxious confusion before its purpose made itself known.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed as his car coughed once, then died entirely. Thomas found himself silently grateful that the late night street was mostly deserted as the eldest Winchester desperately coaxed his Impala to a stop near the sidewalk.
"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded, watching as Dean cursed and tried in vain to restart the car.
"Hex," Harry was pulling his staff and blasting rod out of the floorboard, no small feat in their cramped quarters. "Someone laid out a magical land mine for us that would stop the car."
Dean gave up on the car with a punch to the steering wheel before he went for his gun. "And why would they do that?"
He'd barely gotten the sentence out before a hole appeared in the roof of his car, followed by a whizzing noise and the headrest of Sam's seat exploding into tiny bits of foam. The owner of said seat blinked, grateful that he'd been reaching for something by his feet.
"I'm going to go with that." Dresden said simply. "Out. Now." The wizard's order was immediately followed by the rear passenger door opening and an artful scoot that had his hip pushing into Bella's and the thief being dumped unceremoniously onto the pavement. Everyone else wasn't far behind, but two more shots had been fired and one bullet clipped Dean in the shoulder. A cursory check from Sam proved that he was in no danger, and the five of them huddled against the car as Chicago's late night traffic drifted idly by.
"Where's the sniper, Thomas?" Harry asked.
He'd known the answer to that after the first shot. "Red brick building directly across from us," he answered aloud. Said building was three stories tall and nestled snugly in the shadows of the two taller buildings on either side of it. Thomas closed his eyes and inhaled, quickly sifting through the city smells of traffic, trash, and urine. Buried beneath them was a distinctive twinge that he'd come to know all too well. "It's on the roof," he took one more sniff to be sure before he met Harry's eyes. "Ghoul."
Dresden growled and glared at the sky, "Fantastic." He shot Sam a questioning look, to which the younger Winchester nodded gravely. This time, at least, Sam and Dean understood what they were up against.
It was Thomas' turn for a pointed look from the wizard. The concern in Harry's eyes was plain to see for those who knew where to look. Worry was appropriate at that point, however, given that everyone present was either exhausted or, in Bella's case, practically useless. Considering the range required of them, the Winchester's guns were more of a danger to those inside the building then anything else, not to mention they'd probably stick once Harry started casting anyway. Without a clear view there wasn't much Harry could do either, and peaking around the car to get his bearings was out of the question. All that was left was…
"I can get around behind him, I think," Thomas said, quietly. His little brother looked disbelieving. They both knew that he wasn't up to a one on one with a ghoul. "All I have to do is get up there and I can knock him down here where the rest of you can take care of him." As he spoke, he silently drew his kukri.
"Alright, but take this," Harry began shrugging out of his trench coat. As he passed the heavy bit of leather off to Thomas, he sighed, "It never fails, somehow you always end up in my clothes."
Thomas' assuredly witty retort was cut off by Sam peaking around the wizard and pointing at the twin kukri with pursed lips. "Where were you hiding those?"
The vampire gifted him with a smile that he knew was dazzling even without glamour. "You really wanna know?"
Sam blanched, "Um…pass."
"Dean, you ok over there?" Harry asked.
Dean's voice came from the darkness, "Don't insult me."
The wizard didn't say anything, but he grinned before closing his eyes and taking a slow, deep breath through his nose. Thomas tensed, shifting forward onto the balls of his feet. Within seconds, small bits of dirt and debris began to gently skitter across the pavement as Harry gathered what was probably some of the last of his power. Suddenly, Harry's eyes snapped open as he held his staff over the trunk of the car and snarled, "Forzare!"
Thomas' eyes stung as a gigantic burst of wind rose up and rushed toward the sniper's roof. The force behind the blast wasn't really that great, but Dresden had spread it over an area around twenty feet wide. With no idea of the ghoul's exact location, the massive gust had a much better chance of at least hitting it. In the meantime, it also managed to pick up almost every dirt clod and small bit of trash on their half of the sidewalk, courteously awarding Thomas with a handy cover.
He absorbed all of this in an instant. Harry's spell had barely been uttered before his legs had uncoiled and sent him gliding across the street, little more then a brief streak of black in one's peripheral vision. Dresden always seemed to be in his element when the shit hit the fan. The man could face down gods with little more then a revolver and a stick and walk away victorious. He was a hero, a man made for battle. But Thomas?
Thomas was made for the hunt.
It had been years since he'd had to consciously tap into his reserves. The power flowed through him naturally now, no more noticeable then a fleeting thought. Despite the fact that the snug alley was barely four feet across, he managed not to clip his shoulders on either side as he dodged trashcans and a lump that turned out to be a disgruntled homeless man. Somewhere above and to his right, shots continued to ring out intermittently, though they seemed less frequent now. Either the sniper was running low on ammunition, or it wanted the others to believe that as a means to lure them away from their cover. He hoped for the first, but in the end simply prayed that the continued shots would cover the sound of his approach.
The alley failed to yield a fire escape, but the rear of the building proved more forthcoming. As expected, the ladder had been pulled up and the lowest rung taunted from him eight feet above the ground. Thomas merely smiled and sheathed one of his kukri without breaking stride as he leaped for the ladder, catching one of the middle rungs with his free hand. Arm muscles bunched and strained as he swung himself over the railing, but he landed in virtual silence. For a brief moment he paused, poised, as he waited for any sign that his quarry had sensed him. A few seconds later, however, another shot rang out and he was off again, footsteps barely disturbing the dust on rusted stairs.
A lot of buildings didn't bother with making fire escapes that reached all the way to the roof. This one, thankfully, seemed to be obliging to Thomas' cause. However, the roof itself was annoyingly free of any decent cover; aside from a few ancient AC units that of course had to be placed on the opposite side from where he peaked. Fortunately, he was at least given a clear view of the ghoul.
She still wore her human mask, and though the fact that she was laying on her stomach made it hard to gauge her height, Thomas was going to go with short. Thick black hair was pulled back in a high pony tail and tanned fingers gripped her rifle with relaxed ease as she fired off another shot to where his brother and allies huddled below. She was somewhere around a hundred feet away, her feet pointing almost straight to where Thomas crouched.
It was then that reality began to weigh on him a bit. Yes, what he'd told Harry was mostly true: getting the ghoul off the roof wouldn't be too much of a problem. On the other hand, if she simply fell, Harry and the others would have five lanes of traffic to contend with, giving her ample time to crawl away. No, he'd have to find a way to get some distance on her, and that didn't leave him with many options. Another shot fired.
Oh yeah, and time. He didn't have a lot of that either.
With an inward sigh, Thomas carefully eased himself over the ledge and onto the roof proper. Shifting his knife to his right hand, he slid a bit to the left, taking care not to disturb any gravel as he stopped just outside of her field of vision. Immediately to the ghoul's right was one of the AC units. It had to have been put together by a drunken plumber, as it was cursed with a plethora of pipes and tubes sticking out at awkward angles. Thomas examined this as he took a deep breath, actually concentrating on his reserves.
They didn't come to him in a sudden rush of extreme energy. Instead, his eyes stung a bit. To an outside observer they would have bled slowly white. Dead. Also, his muscles felt tense and edgy, as if her were being forced to sit still after drinking a case of Red Bull. As the power filled him, his hand flashed outward, sending the kukri to bury deep into one of the AC unit's pipes. It landed with a deep gong that resonated through the entire machine as it sunk in to the hilt. Steam erupted around what remained exposed, hissing out in all directions.
To her credit, the ghoul reacted with incredible speed. Almost quicker than he could follow, she was on her knees with a small hand gun pointed in the direction of the racket. It would have been much more helpful to Thomas if she'd stood instead of knelt, but he would work with what was given.
Before his knife had even reached the AC, Thomas had set off at a dead run. There was nothing silent in his steps now as he sacrificed stealth in the name of speed and power. The ghoul swung her gun in his direction as she heard him approach, but he was already far too close. A slight adjustment to the left had him moving past her pointed gun as he crashed into her. His arms closed tightly around her small body and he continued running. A few more steps found him at the roof's edge and he pushed off, his considerable momentum sending both himself and his captive soaring above early morning traffic.
The ghoul had been quick to catch onto his plan, however. She'd kicked off herself, sending them into a spin that would have ended up with Thomas landing pinned beneath her. The realization of her maneuver hit Thomas with sickening clarity and he fisted his hands in her shirt, using all of his strength to work with the momentum of their spin and bring himself on top again. With one last lurch, he managed to push off of her just a bit and pull his knees up to rest on her stomach.
In future versions of this story, Thomas would've liked to say that in that moment, their eyes had met. He would've liked to say that there, suspended three stories over unforgiving pavement, he and his opponent had shared some sort of connection as they resigned themselves to their fate.
The reality, however, was that all he could see was the street surging up to pummel him. He couldn't' even tell how far the jump had taken them. All he could register was the difference in their fall as it became less about sideways and more about horrible, unrelenting down. Thomas made himself as small as he could behind the ghoul's diminutive frame and may or may not have made an unmanly sound.
In the end, he didn't feel the impact. Thomas was pretty sure that was a bad sign, but all he saw was street, street, street, and then black. He remembered telling his body to roll in a direction that was hopefully away from the ghoul, but whether or not it obeyed was up for debate.
Somewhere, tires screeched and a horn honked, but he really didn't care.
--
Apparently there was a distinct difference between knowing that a random ghoul was about to go flying off a rooftop and seeing said random ghoul go flying off a rooftop. Dresden's feral grin was quickly wiped from his face, however, as the flailing figure quickly separated into two silhouettes.
No, Harry thought, no no no no you idiot what were you thinking?!
Thomas' foolhardy jump was astounding. He and the ghoul cleared a sidewalk and four lanes of traffic, but his brother could only watch in horror as they crashed into the final lane. The ghoul landed flat on her back, limbs splayed in a crude parody of a spider as Thomas sluggishly rolled toward the sidewalk.
Instantly, Harry, Sam, and Dean were on their feet, but the sound of someone slamming their breaks had them all freezing in their tracks. A SUV was heading straight for the ghoul's prone form and a semi to its left prevented it from swerving. It didn't stop soon enough, though, and the ghoul raised its head just in time to become acquainted with the vehicle's bumper. Something caught, and it ended up being drug another ten feet or so before the squealing tires finally silenced.
Suppressing the urge to point and laugh, Harry spared a glance at Thomas. His brother was lying half on his back in the gutter, eyes unfocused and half lidded as he warred with consciousness. Every instinct that Dresden had screamed and shook their fists, demanding that he go to him. That luxury would have to wait, unfortunately.
Staff at the ready, Harry stalked to the nearest side of the SUV while Dean circled around the other side and Sam dove for the Impala's trunk. From his position, he could see the driver--a middle aged man with dark hair wearing a suit--scramble out of his seat, hands shaking with panic.
"Oh my God," the man stammered, "T-They jumped. I didn't have any time to stop! I-I killed them, didn't I? Are they-"
His jumbled words came to an abrupt halt as Dean raised his gun level with the man's eyes. He gave him half a second to process the situation before saying one word: "Run."
The man didn't' have to be told twice.
A slight scraping noise could be heard from under the SUV and Harry watched with growing fury as first one hand covered in black blood appeared, then another. The ghoul pulled herself free with aching slowness, driven more by instinct more then anything else at that point. As it continued to struggle, Dresden rethought the staff and reached into his coat, pulling out his shiny new revolver. He took careful aim, rage turning cold as the ghoul's head came into view. One half of it was little more then raw meat, and what was left was no longer human looking.
Harry didn't' bother with any snazy comments, he let loose one round, then another and another until his gun clicked empty and the top of the ghoul's head was little more then pulp. He glared at the revolver, annoyed at its lack of bullets.
Despite its monumental injuries, despite the smell of decay that wafted from under the vehicle, Dresden still didn't approach their ghoul. The constitution of a ghoul was an amazing thing. The bastards could come back from just about anything barring--
Sam appeared in Harry's view wielding an impressive machete longer than his forearm. With one quick swipe, he cleanly separated the ghoul's head from its body, gingerly kicking it a few feet away.
Yeah, barring that.
Foe dispatched, Harry made a bee line for Thomas, who coughed painfully and rolled his head toward the sound. Some of his worst fears were realized in the pallor of his brother's skin and the glazed look in his eyes. It had been way, way too long since he'd fed last. Had it been too long? The last time Dresden had seem him this bad, it had ended badly for everyone involved.
And this time it was Harry's fault.
"Thomas, you still with me?" he asked as he knelt and began to asses the vampire's injuries.
Thomas raised both eyebrows lazily, eyes unfocused, "Maybe…?"
"You're getting this stuff confused, man," Harry's voice was a bit more steady now. It was looking like things weren't quite as bad as he feared. "I'm supposed to be the hero that gallantly takes one for the team."
And it was true. Harry was the one who inevitably ended up stuck in bed. It was Thomas' job to be there when he woke up; mocking him, nursing him, cooking horribly, stealing his clothes, eating all his food…The whole situation made his stomach turn in a way that had nothing to do with bad sushi.
Thomas grinned blearily, "You're ugly enough. Had to give your face a rest." He grabbed the edge of Harry's coat and wiggled it, "Pulled it in front of me at the last second. It took most of the impact."
"Remind me to mess up that face of yours again once it's healed."
"How is he even still alive?" Sam demanded from somewhere over Harry's shoulder. The Winchesters and Bella had made their way over.
" 'Cause I'm awesome," Thomas answered drunkenly.
"Either way, we need to get out of here," Dean pointed out, "and I hope your apartment is close, Harry. We're a bit too conspicuous for the bus."
Dresden's mind was already racing down that train of though, "I have a friend or two we can call."
"Alright, what's their number?" Dean asked, pulling out his cell phone. He cursed when it wouldn't turn on.
"Remember the hex?"
The eldest Winchester cast his eyes toward the sky, "You know, I'm really starting to hate wizards."
"You and me both, buddy," Harry grinned. "Now, less whining, more payphone. Let's move."
--
No cheerful polka graced the walls of Butters' examination room. It was nearing time for the shift change, and sadly his coworkers were cursed with a coffee addiction and bad taste in music. They were almost never on time, but it paid to be cautious. He was ever walking the fine line between cheerful rebellion and the unemployment office.
That particular morning found him glaring down at his last cadaver of the day. Really, the powers that be were just getting insulting with the things they sent his way. One look and he knew the cause of death was a heart attack; but pushy families meant pointless work for unappreciated MEs. With a sigh, he raised his scalpel, ready to make a quick job of it and head home, when his hip started vibrating violently.
He yelped, dropping the scalpel with a clatter as he danced in a circle, trying to liberate his cell phone from his scrubs. Luckily, he managed to answer just before it went to voicemail.
"Hello?" he asked politely, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. "Yes, this is he…yes." All color left his cheeks and his eyes widened, "I-I see…yes. Thank you for telling me."
Butters set his phone down gently, not noticing that it was balanced precariously on the cadaver's forehead. No, he was too busy wondering if he could go ahead and claim some of his vacation time. He still had yet to see Niagara Falls, for one. A man should never get to his age without seeing Niagara Falls. From the Canadian side.
His phone began to ring again, innocently vibrating down the dead man's brow toward his nose. Butters stared at it with the kind of precognitive dread usually saved for backwoods diners and unexpected visits from the in-laws. Curiosity won out, though, and he once again found himself answering just before the voicemail, his greeting only slightly less polite then before.
Static was the only sound from the other end at first, before a familiar wizard voice could be heard, "Hey, Butters."
Butters whimpered. Great, the one person he didn't want to call.
"H-Hiya, Harry," he said with a nervous laugh. "What has you up this early in the morning?"
"Some friends and I ran into a wee bit of trouble on the way home and our cars were the ones that took the beating. See?" There was some shuffling on the other end and more static. It ended up focusing on an unfamiliar man's voice that was ranting about "crazed brown whores" and "Swiss cheese cars." Then there was more shuffling and the phone came back to Harry. "He hasn't had a very good day. Anyway, I hate to ask this of you, but is there any way we could get a ride from you? We're trying to avoid public transport."
Butters smiled despite himself, "Sure thing, Harry."
"Thanks, man, I owe you one."
"Pfft. You know better than that." As Harry relayed his location and such, Butters' mind was racing. No, there was no way in Hell he was going anywhere near the wizard in the next couple of weeks or so. Still, there was also no way he'd leave him stranded on the edge of Chicago. That left him with one more phone call to make as soon as he hung up with Dresden.
--
Sam was beyond tired. It turned out that sharing cramped back alleys with wizards, enraged brothers, cowed thieves, and injured…somethings was a drain on one's patience. Who'd have guessed? Normally, he would have been out in the middle of things poking people, maybe getting answers for the million and one questions buzzing around in his head. Instead, he found a moderately clean crate to rest against and closed his eyes, thinking invisible thoughts.
The better part of an hour had passed before a nondescript minivan pulled up, blocking off what little light made it into the alley. Sam cracked one eye open and stared at it warily, but Harry seemed to recognize the vehicle. He didn't look the least bit happy, but he wasn't going for any weapons.
"You have got to be kidding me," Dresden grumbled, stalking toward the van. The others scrambled to keep up with him. Thomas, who'd ended up suffering little more then a dislocated shoulder and some impressive bruising, somehow managed to make hobbling look sexy as he leaned on a wall for support. As they drew near, Sam could see that the driver was…not at all what he expected.
The girl in the driver's seat was easily a couple of years younger than himself, and she faced down Dresden's ire with unaffected cheer, dramatically bleached hair falling about her face in artful disarray. She had enough piercings to make an airport hell, and Sam caught glimpses of what might've been a serpent tattoo through a gap in her shirt's collar.
"Butters," said Harry, leaning one hand on the roof of the van, "you're looking decidedly underage and…female."
The girl's grin widened, "Heya, Harry. Butters gave me a call. Seems that your infinite well of wizardly knowledge lost sight of the fact that he can't even fit you into that windup toy he calls a truck, let alone guests."
Dresden glared, "Uh-huh, and I'm going to assume that your mother gleefully passed off the keys to her van to you in good faith."
"Not directly, no."
A solid thunk resounded as Dresden banged his head against her window, "Charity's going to kill me." The girl patted him on the head, but there was no sympathy in her face.
"Ah well," the wizard straightened and adjusted the coat he'd ganked back from Thomas. "Everyone, I'd like to introduce my esteemed and nosey apprentice Molly. Molly, this is everyone. Try not to track any mud in the van, I suspect Molly's mom was a Valkyrie in a past life."
Dean caught sight of Molly over Sam's shoulder as everyone began to file in. "Hey," he said, a well known grin tugging at his lips, "this trip just got a little more interesting."
Sam awarded him with a deadpan look, "You're not serious."
His brother looked honestly confused, "What?"
"Never mind," he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If you want to try and get something going with the all-powerful wizard's beloved apprentice, far be it from me to stop you."
Dean beamed and clapped him on the back, "Thanks, bro."
With a sigh, Sam made to climb into the back seat beside Bella, but a feeling of being watched had him glancing up. He caught Molly looking at him curiously. When she noticed his returned gaze she smiled and nodded, turning to answer something Harry had asked from the passenger seat.
--
Dean wasn't sure what he was expecting of Dresden's home. An oversized condo, maybe, or an old, gothic apartment complete with gargoyles. Hell, he'd halfway been hoping for the Fortress of Solitude. No, reality revealed itself in the form of a nondescript boarding house nestled forlornly in an unremarkable part of town. Apparently Dresden didn't even warrant a first floor apartment. As he watched the wizard curse and struggle with an ill-fitting steel door, he pondered offering to help but decided against it. The dire warnings that Harry had given them a few minutes prior concerning the wards he had in place were still fresh on his mind.
At last the door gave and Harry let out a half-hearted cheer, resting for a moment against the doorway. From his vantage point at the top of the stairs leading down, Dean couldn't see into the apartment. He didn't, however, miss the way Dresden suddenly tensed and shot to his feet.
"What the hell are you doing here?" the wizard demanded, an odd tone in his voice.
Dean had already drawn his gun yet again at Harry's strange reaction, and he shifted his position slightly to see into the apartment's tiny living room. What he saw proved less then threatening.
Calmly sitting on a well worn couch was a woman. Even while sitting, it was obvious she was tiny, easily the smallest person present. Blond hair hung unbrushed and lanky around her face. Her lips were pale, blending seamlessly with deathly skin that glistened with a sickly sheen. Slowly, a crooked smile ghosted her features.
"Hello, Harry."
--
Extended Author's Note:*pantpantpant* Dear lord…fourteen pages. That's literally twice my normal chapter length. Originally I was tempted to break this up into two chapters, but I figured that after such a long absence a super chapter would be a decent apology.
Lessee…reasons for extended absence? Computer death, followed by a move to another city followed by the creativity sucking eeeeeevils that are new mmo releases. First there was Age of Conan, then Warhammer Online lightly sprinkled with the Wrath of the Lich King release and seasoned with a god-awful case of writer's block far more impenetrable then Arcatraz. In the end, jadeanime broke my writer's block by holding the next book in a trilogy I'm reading hostage until I presented her with a completed chappy. (Btw, if you haven't read "Mistborn" by Brandon Sanderson GO DO IT. Seriously…it's genre-bending levels of awesomeness.)
Notes on the Story Proper:kk, quick clarification on a couple of things that made it into this chapter.
1) Sam and Dean's previous knowledge of ghouls: I know there was never anything like this that made it into their show, but I was starting to feel a bit sorry for the brothers. They really are out of their depth in Harry's world, and I'm sure it's only going to get worse, so I figured I'd give them the benefit of the doubt concerning ghouls. I get the impression that they're moderately common, so I don't think it's beyond the realm of possibility that they might have run into one at some point in their lengthy careers.
2) Why Bella Didn't Have a Line: Uhhh…honestly I didn't notice until after I'd finished the chapter and proofread it. There wasn't much for her to do in this chapter, but I didn't forget about her, she'll speak up again later (not that I'm excited about the prospect -_-).
3) Where the Fook is Bob?!: He's still there. Again, there really wasn't much room to squeeze him into this chapter what with the fighting and the running and the shooting, but next chapter shall feature much Bobness, along with Mouse and Mister and all the lovely aspects of Chicago that have been previously silent.
Once again, thank you guys so much for being patient with all of my many issues. Thank you for the all the sympathy for my poor poor dead compy, and thank you to the people who recently reviewed or added me to their alert list despite my obvious lack of updating. All of you are beyond awesome.
(Also: I feel like a total ff nub…I just now noticed that you can individually reply to reviews. Now that I know this, I'll make it a point to reply to any of the questions you guys ask me. I wasn't ignoring you, I swear!)