I do not own Supernatural.
The song lyrics used in this chapter are from 'Rest Your Love On Me' - Conway Twitty.
I just started typing and this is what happened, enjoy!
The coroner gave the Winchester's a quick run over of the body. "Male, late twenties, he's the third one this week." He said, pulling back the sheet, the headless body was a sight to see. "Where's his head?" Sam asked.
"He's just like the other two stiffs." The coroner explained, he handed a fresh printed copy of the murders to Sam. He immediately began to flip through the case file. "Bodies dumped in the bank of Second Creek. The town sheriff took an entire team down there, but still, they can't locate the heads." Then he said, "It's strange, Agents. I mean, these aren't regular cases of decapitation." Dean's face scrunched in speculation. "What are you saying?"
The coroner looked over his shoulder, as if not to be caught being overheard. "Look here." He pointed a gloved finger to the mutilated flesh stump. "In a regular decapitation, its clean cut, usually a straight hack right through." He motioned around the neck at the protruding bone disk and loose flabs of stringy flesh that tinseled the stub. "This – his brainstem is still intact. It looks like his head was ripped right off of his shoulders, instead of being cut." He shut his mouth then, his complexion paling.
"Thank you for your time." Dean said, he noticed that the guy looked like he was going to blow chunks. He took a business card out of his pocket, handing it to the guy. "Give me a call if you can think of anything else." The guy nod stiffly, then pulled the sheet back over the body, he slid the corpse back into the cooler.
On the drive back up the mountain to the motel, Sam shared what Kris had told him with Dean. The eldest brother looked at him with a sickened expression. "But Kris made the deal, not Beth, so is it even legit?" Dean asked. He, much like Sam, was trying to cross every T and dot all the I's. "Yeah, I asked myself the same thing. Kris was pretty shaken up when she told me, said Crowley took a special interest in her deal."
Dean scuffed, "Sounds like Crowley." he was suddenly very irritated. "So Kris destroyed Beth's only chance of a normal life…for strippers?" The whole thing sounded like a sick joke, and Dean felt for Beth even more. His main goal in the hunting business was to save people from this kind of evil crap so they wouldn't end up in a life of chasing down Hell. Humanity was so ignorant and fragile, and he would go to his death – again - saving as many as he could from suffering the same hand of fate, or – whatever; that he'd been dealt. "She was an ignorant and scared kid, Dean. Kris is sorry for what she done."
"No amount of sorry will help Beth, Sammie, her sister ruined her life before she could even start it." Then Dean decided that it was time for a change in topic. "How you doin', Sammy?" "I'm good." He insisted, but Dean caught him squeezing his stitches. Deans cellphone rang then;
"What's up, Bobby?"
"Yeah, okay…Gotchya, message me the address."
They fell into silence as Dean drove back to the motel, letting it all sink in. Beth was pretty much cursed to hell because of her sisters stupidity. He had crossed paths with many women on the road so far, they were nothing but a quick beauty booty call. Sure, Dean was almost certain that all those chicks he hooked up with were good ladies, he never got long enough to stick around and let anything bloom into a white picket fence. In the junkyard when Beth had taken off her shirt so comfortably in front of him, in that ogling moment, Dean had seen the white fence. It wasn't that light in the tunnel, which he still didn't understand to save his life, no, the white fence he seen was much better than that. As they climbed the steps to their room, Sam said. "Dean, we have to help them out." Dean tried to mask himself to seem irritated, while deep down the lessons he learned from John crawled their way into his heart. "We will fix this." Needing to see Beth, he made a move to open the door, and then Sam stopped him. "Dean…" Sam scratched his ear, visibly uncomfortable.
"What?"
"Don't do anything stupid."
Dean was confused for a moment, then realization hit him like a brick to the gut.
"Whoa whoa – little brother, are you cock blocking me?" Dean asked in outrage.
Sam rolled his eyes, "Just keep it in your pants." they walked into the room, "We have work to do." he said. "Hey guys." Kris stood in front of a wall of papers from the case, "Find anything down yonder?" she asked, a marker in her hand as she made pinpoints on a blueprint map of the mountain. Sam began to hang the documents he'd got from the coroner, "All three of the vic's had their head's ripped off with bare hands after 3 a.m."
Kris took note of it, "We have a hunt time!" she was being delightfully enthusiastic. Dean's eyes scanned the room around as he slid off his blazer. "What happened to Beth?" He asked.
Kristina didn't turn away from the wall, "She went over yonder t'u that there drankin bar next'ore." she drawled out, a pathetic attempt at a southern accent. Sam laughed, and Kris' soft giggles followed.
Dean grimaced in disgust. "Get a room." He didn't wait on a comeback as he slid out of the door.
Maybe you don't know me any more than I know you
And I wouldn't blame you if you walked away
I've been watching you all evening with those teardrops in your eyes
And it touches me much more that I can say
The bar was tiny, and business was at a slow crawl, the place was dead. It had a karaoke stage to the left, half a dozen sitting booths to the right, and one single pool table sat center room. Dean found her sitting at the bar alone, with three shot glasses already turned over and empty at her side, the bartender filled her up another. He strolled passed the pool table and took the stool next to hers. "Dean." She acknowledged him, but didn't turn to face him. The bartender, a grizzly country man, nod his head in his direction. "I'll have what she's havin'." Dean requested.
You know I hate to think that someone
Could have hurt someone like you
And if I was him I'd be right by your side
The bartender turned around and reached for the top shelf, "I thought I told you to stay away from this place." Dean whispered as he leaned in close enough he could smell the bourbon on her breath.
Lay your troubles on my shoulder
Put your worries in my pocket
Rest your love on me a while
"Here ya are, Sir."
"Thanks."
Dean tossed back the first shot, it burned the worst, he chased it with shot number two.
"You ain't my daddy." Beth said back to him, her voice hollowed out in light drunkenness. She was still gazing straight ahead. He chuckled, then shook his head. "No, but Bobby is, and he told you not to be drinking while on the job." The twin youngsters were the brothers' responsibility while out and about. Bobby found them a case in their Nans hometown on the purpose of not having to face them yet. Another stinkin' diversion. Bobby made his rules loud and clear to Dean. Finally, Beth turned her head a notch in his direction. "Bobby Singer is a damn coward."
Dean took the third shot to keep from biting back at her for insulting the man that had pretty much raised him, "You don't know Bobby." he said instead, then he waved over the bartender again. "Hey buddy, how about another round here for me and the Mrs.?" Beth ignored the fake title, in fact, she went back to ignoring him again completely. He was already driving himself crazy, because Sam was tripping out on Hells Bells – because of Cas. Dean figured that if you couldn't beat 'em, join 'em. Their glasses were filled, and the two hunters drank in silence.
A half dozen people had shuffled into the bar by the time they had started round seven. A man in cowboy boots and hat took the stool on the opposite side of Beth, with a handsome grin he asked her for a dance. "Nuh thinks, cowboy." She kindly declined, her tone a drunken slur. Dean glared up at the guy, "Ahem…" he cleared his throat. The cowboys eyes flickered over to Dean's with annoyance, then he looked back at Beth, grinning. "I beg your pardon, Miss, can I at least buy ya a drink?" Finally, Dean exploded. "She said no!" "Don't!" Beth leaped to shield Dean. The sound of fist against flesh hung in the air over top of the music as the cowboy struck her while aiming for him.
Beth staggered back into Dean's chest, he quickly rebalanced and turned her to face him. Her hand covered her nose, "Beth!" he pushed her hand away from her face, blood flooded from her nostrils onto her lips and dribbled down her chin. "Miss! I am so very sor-" A deep growl ripped through Dean's chest, "You bet your sweet candy ass you are!" he was seeing red. He didn't even think about it, he lunged at the cowboy.
They tottered back to the motel room shortly after, their beaten and bloody faces didn't catch attention immediately upon entrance when they walked in on a heavy make-out session. "Guys!" Sam yelped as he and Kris sprang apart. Dean gave his brother a round of applause, "That's my boy!" he flashed a grin like a pleased father. Sam quickly began to sputter, "We uh – that uhh…"
Dean raised a brow, "You call that working, Sammy?" he questioned, a toothy grin lighting his face.
Kris giggled, red faced, she hugged Sam around the waist, and Beth raised up busted knuckles to the Heavens. "The lip virgin is no more!" She grinned, a gleam in her eyes as she continued to tease her sister, "To think, all the years you made yourself out to be the good twin." It was almost amusing to Beth. The fact that not two hours before she'd been antagonized about having some phantom crush on the eldest brother, and to walk in on Queen Prude getting hot and heavy with the Jolly Green Giant. It was something Beth would never let Kris live down, ever. Kris began to fluster again, "Zip it. What happened to y'all?" she reluctantly let go of Sam, and went to find the first-aid.
Kris took in the slap happy smile that was plastered on her sisters face as she cleaned the blood from her swollen fist, "Another bar fight, Beth?" she asked her, already knowing the answer. Beth rolled over onto her back, her side pressed into Deans, whom took it as an opportunity to grab her into a cuddle. If she'd been sober, she would have made an escape from him, but they could only get one room, and it seemed that Kris had taken her pick in staying in Sam's bed. So she welcomed his touch. "It's on the list, Kris." Beth reminded her behind a yawn, sleep pulled at her, the heavy drinking mixed in with the adrenaline of fight excitement was enough to exhaust her to the point of sleep. "What list?" Dean grumbled, he was still pretty drunk himself, but Beth had done lulled out into a drunken stupor
At a quarter till three in the morning, Dean packed an unconscious Beth out into the passenger side of the cutty, he decided to let her sleep until they got to their hunting ground. He glanced at her as he drove behind Bobby's truck. Her face was smoothed over in total relaxation for the first time since he met her, it made his heart swell to see the poor girl finally rest, so when they reached their spot, he was reluctant to wake her.
He gave her shoulder a gentle shake, "Beth…" he whispered. She gave a grunted response, then tried to shrug him off in a half conscious stupor. "Five more minutes." She mumbled. Dean checked the area that surrounded the Ned sign. There seemed to be no sign of their monster, so he checked his watch before he stepped outside the car. He would let her have the five minutes.
As he opened up the trunk to gear up, there was a loud crash of glass being busted, and a scream ripped through the silence of the night air. Dean wheeled around from the back of the car, gun drawn, and found the passenger side of the cutty empty and decorated in broken glass. "Beth!" The other two sprang out of the truck, they stood next to him with looks of concern. "Dammit!" Dean swore. Kris' flashlight shined on the busted window. "Look!" She squatted down by the door, and touched her finger to a darkened streak that darkened the Candy Apple paint, in the light they all immediately recognized it to be blood. Her flashlight followed the direction of the glass, more splotches of blood mingled in its wake. Another loud scream echoed from the mountain, Kris took off uphill, running into the thick of the trees. "BETH!"
"Kris, no!" Sam shouted after her, but she was already gone.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean huffed.
The two brothers followed her trail.
Beth groggily pulled her eyes open, her head spun in circles, the smell of the dark cellar almost made her vomit. She tried to move, but found herself restrained to a chair. She clenched her eyes shut, then opened them again, she tried like Hell to register what had happened. Last she remembered she was down at the bar with Dean, tossing back shots so fast that alcohol poison was a given. She tried her damndest to focus in on where she was. It was too dark, save for a single lightbulb that hung over top of her head.
As she took in her surroundings it didn't take her long to spot the dimly lit display of heads showcased in shadow boxes, each one sat upon a silver platter. Her breath caught. There were at least a dozen of them, most were rotted and severely dehydrated, the others had to of been fresh kills, only just starting to turn a ghastly shade of grey. There was one lone bare platter at the center of the display. Finally, it dawned on her that she had been abducted by Headless Ned, and she began to frantically pull against her restrains, giving herself a nasty case of rope burn.
Something shifted in the darkness, and Beth abruptly stopped moving, ears sharp. "Ned?" she peeped. Oh shit, she thought, I can't die like this. The ropes around her wrist had turned her raw, she could feel the warmth of blood begin to trickle down her hands as she fought harder. She wheeled her head around, and came face to face with Ned. He stood about six foot tall, one of the decayed heads was stitched onto his body. She did not scream at the revolting sight, it got stuck in her throat as he grabbed her by the head and began to pull.
"Remember, we have to find his head and burn it." Sam told them, his arm reached out to steady Kris as she walked infront of them. At the clearing, they circled in on what they believed to be Ned's torture shack, which was the abandoned mechanic shop halfway up the mountain. Drenched in sweat and covered in dirt from the travel up the trippy slope, the three hunters quietly investigated outside of the garage for an entrance. The place was locked up tight. "Over here!" Kris hissed from the darkness. The Winchester brothers tailed over to where she stood, shining her flashlight through a busted basement window, Dean kicked it the rest of the way in and slipped in.
Sam turned and gave Kris an apprehensive look, "Listen, this is dangerous, I think it's best if you stayed ba-" he was cut short.
"That monster is in there trying to rip my sisters head off and wear it as a tea cap!" she snarled, then shoved her palms against his chest in an attempt to move him out of her way, he didn't budge.
Suddenly they heard a scream, and Kris was through the window in a nanosecond. "Be-" her shout was cut off when Sam's hand clasped over her mouth. "Shhh." He hissed as Dean made haste walking around the basement, looking for any clue that would lead them to Beth and the Ned Head.
Dean came to a staircase that would lead them straight into the garage connection of the old dump. He looked at Sam and gave him a hand signal that this was the way they needed to go. He twisted the doorknob when he reached the top, finding it to be locked. The loudest scream thus far ripped through from the other side of the door, and a pained sob followed it. In an instant, Dean kicked the door open and rushed in.
"Hey!"
The boom of the shotgun fired off in the enclosed garage and Ned staggered back from Beth. Sam charged at the monster, his enormous frame took Ned down to the ground without struggle. "Oh my God, I thought I was a dead tom turkey!" Beth gasped out as Dean and Kris made quick to cut her free. Dean chuckled at her, "Not on my watch, sweetheart." he said with a wink, then helped her up to her feet.
"Alittle…help…" Sam gasped out, his windpipe restricted. Kris snapped around, Ned had Sam against the wall by his neck, "Sam!" she forgot all about her sister and took a flying monkey jump onto Ned's back, grabbing him by the hair of the head that was not his. Ned spun around, taking Kris on a violent bull ride as she used all the strength her small body could muster, to try and rip the bastards head off. "I seen you when I was nine, you dirty goddam rat, but your ass is mine now!" Kris actually laughed. Sam, Dean, and Beth all watched the scene unfold. They had all known from hunting experience – this kill was personal. So they stayed back, exchanging glances.
There was a sound of stitches busting, ripping – as Kris drove her hunting blade through the opened wound, and then blood began to spray, it coated her face as she viciously dove into the monster; and Kris continued to twist and yank in violent red rage, using her knife to unstitch his head, until the body of old Ned with no head fell to the floor in a crumble. "I got his head!" Kris panted, holding it up from the floor. Sam rolled over from his spot from against the wall, "Are you alright?" his eyes quickly did a look over on her person. She grinned, then grabbed Sam by the front of the shirt, pulling him down to peck his lips, "I got him!" she yelped, waving the head around like a trophy. She smiled up at him as he helped her up, "Now let's burn this bitch!" she said in excitement as she grabbed Ned's twitching ankles and began to drag him toward the basement. "Y'all grab the rest of those heads!"
In Curtis the Cutty, Beth butterfly stitched with pieces of tape as Dean silently drove them back to the motel. "Sorry I didn't get there sooner." Dean muttered as he pulled to a park, he took in every bloody laceration around her neck. He was brooding. Beth couldn't hold back her smile, the adrenaline chorused through her, taking on vicious hunts like Ned always made her happy. "You got there before my head got ripped off, that's all that matters." She offered back, stepping out of her car, she walked toward the trunk. Dean followed behind her and was smacked with a sheet of plastic wrap. "Be a gentleman, and fix my window, will ya?" she asked, Beth shot him a wink and turned to make way back to the motel. Then she stopped, "Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"You're a good person, an even better hunter, so stop telling yourself otherwise."
"What are y-"
"Drop it, Winchester, I can see it in your face."
With that said, she went into the motel and left Dean to think while he band-aided her car.
The next morning was a rough one. Beth woke up cuddled into Dean's chest, at first she simply laid there and savored the brief moment of normality. Then the aches and pains began to flare up, and she reluctantly got up, grabbing her backpack, she ducked into the bathroom. They had ganked the bitch and now it was hi-ho hi-ho – back to Bobby's she was going to go. She took a quick shower, doing a rinse-lather-repeat. Eventually the weekends worth of dry blood ran down the drain.
The weather was nice, so she slipped into a rarely worn sleeveless peach sundress with a three inch ruffly skirt that would fan out if she happened to feel like doing the twist, and her beat up brown cowboy boots. Her long mane of hair was contained in a towel as she sat on the closed toilet seat and rummaged through her bag. She dug out first-aid supplies to bandage her freshly cleaned battle scars, but first she needed a fix. So she pulled out the bottle of Vicodin and dumped three of them into her hand. One went into the tiny breast pocket of her sundress, for later use, she crunched the other two on the porcelain countertop with the butt of her lighter. There was a sudden knock at the bathroom door.
"Ay! I gotta pee!" It was Dean.
"I'm powdering my nose, give me a minute!" Beth hollered back, she began to break the painkillers off into lines with one of her fake ID's.
"Now!" he barked, then rattled the doorknob to try and get in.
Beth quickly stuck half of a hollow bic pen into her nostril and snooted one line up. Her sinus cavity burned, her eye watered, and just as she bent down to snort up the other two lines, Dean picked the lock and burst into the bathroom. He glanced at the line of drugs on the counter, asked, "Powdering your nose, huh?" and pulled her away from the toilet. While he relieved his bladder, she finished off the last of the pills and cleaned the mess. Dean watched her as she tilted her head back and made loud snorting sounds, she itched her nose viciously.
"I'm only gonna ask you one time, Beth, what are you doing?"
"I'm in pain, Dean, in the last few days- I've been shot, had a bar brawl, and a dead geezer tried to put my head on a silver platter." She sighed, then tossed the towel from her hair. Dean done a double take as her curly black hair fell down the whole length of her back, the damp ends stuck out and trickled to her hips. She looked like a gothic Medusa. "Whoa!" In their short acquaintance she'd never taken her hair out of the claw clip. "What?" Beth asked, she re-clipped her hair from her face and picked up the gauzes.
Dean glanced and took notice of the bottle of pills, in one quick swipe he yanked them up. He looked inside the bottle and over a third of the monstrous prescription was gone. "Are you in pain, or are you a junkie?" Dean demanded to know. Beth looked at the bottle in his hand, then made a move to snatch it back. He was quick to maneuver around, and held the bottle up high into the air, out of her reach.
Beth began to jump, her shortness being a disadvantage. Dean smirked as her cute little girl sundress fanned upward with every jump, giving him a clear look-see at her lacy peach colored boy shorts. "Give them back." She snapped. He chuckled, said, "Consider this step two in your sobriety program. Pack your stuff. Bobby's sending us over to a guy named Frank that owes him one." then he gave a smirk. "Hey Beth?" With fire in her eyes she glared up at him, "What!" she hissed. "Nice panties." He had a delighted gleam in his eyes and left the small bathroom with her bottle of painkillers in hand.
Beth let out an angry growl, "Dean Winchester!" she seethed, hot on his heels.
"Oh no…" Beth moped. She was grimacing down at the band on her finger, then glared over at the one to match that Dean wore.
"You keep saying that, you okay, Mrs. Smith?" Dean asked, a sly smile at the corner of his mouth. "I thought diamonds were a girls best friend."
"I hate Frank." She grumbled, twisting the wedding ring around, watching it gleam in the sunlight as they drove back to Bobby's. "He is a grade A nutcase." Dean nod in agreement, "But, as always, Bobby is saving our asses." he said. Beth huffed in annoyance, "When these cockroach bastards are dead, and I can leave again, I'm burning this shit." she threw her fake ID into the floorboard, crossed her arms over herself and settled back into her seat, going silent again. He tried to lighten the mood, even through gritted teeth. "That's not how this job works. You still have a lot to learn, Singer." He told her, "Once you're in it, you're in it." he turned his head to look at her. "Sweetheart, you're riding shotgun into this Heaven and Hell rodeo."
"Heaven and Hell rodeo…" She scoffed under her breath, then turned a mean eye toward him. "You think I don't know who you are, Winchester?" she snarled off. "No, you don't." He dropped the little playful couple act and cut his emotions off in an instant. "I know that most anyone that comes into contact with you meets death soon after." That hit the last nerve with him, and he pulled the car over to the side of the road. "Get out."
"This is my ca-"
"OUT!" he barked.
Once she got her keys back at Singers Auto, Beth got behind her wheels and softly clipped Dean when he walked into her line of fire, her rage had hindered him in a leg cast. In the passing days, Dean and Beth didn't speak a word to each other. Jody Mills sensed the tension between them one day when she came by to help clean up and make dinner. After Bobby saved her life from Dr. Leviathan, she owed him – at least some home cooked meals, it was the least she could do to repay.
"Alright children." Jody said, she tossed a beer to the each of them as they lounged out in the library. Dean was watching Spanish soaps as Beth sat by the fireplace chain smoking. "Start talking."
Dean cracked the top off of his bottle, "That monster broke my friggin leg!" he took a swig of his beer, looking over at Beth with hard eyes.
"He threw me out on the side of the road!"
"She asked for it!"
"He stole my car!"
"So you ran me down?"
"You asked for it!" Beth mocked. "Besides, you just got a little tap on the ass!"
"Shut your pie-hole, I'm calling Sam."
Jody looked between them with wide eyes, "Okay, well, that's a start." she paced the floor between them, giving them a mom lecture that neither one of them wanted to hear. There was a sudden scream from the basement followed by heavy footsteps. They blinked in shock as Bobby burst into the room and grabbed Jody by the face, planting a big wet one on her.
"What did you clean the floors with?" Bobby asked in a rush.
Jody looked puzzled in thought, "Borax?" she said slowly.
"I told you they were cockroaches!" Beth spoke up.
Bobby turned on her, he glared at the cigarette between her lips. Let it be known that Beth Singer was not exactly his star child, since she'd made her presence known, Bobby had developed a real pain in his ass. He could put up with the melodramatic mood swings, but a line had to be drawn with the drug abuse and attempted murder – It took her hitting the boy with her car for Bobby to realize that. He knew that he was to blame in part of the darkness inside her, still, he exploded at the girl. "I thought I told you not to be smoking!" He staked away from the Sheriff and snatched the cancer stick out of Beth's mouth, "Just like your binge drinking, and frying your membranes abusing my medication, along with that smart ass mouth of yours – Starting today, you're in Bobby Singer Boot Camp." He finished his tyrant in a low hiss, he used the side of his foot to kick an entire fresh pack of Marlboro into the fire.
Beth gaped up at him in awe, then she began to laugh. "Bobby Singer boot camp?" she asked, it sounded like a dumb joke to her. Dean shot a smug remark, no longer on the phone with Sam and Kris.
"You're five foot tall standing in six feet of shit. Prepare to meet your maker, bitch."
Bobby snagged her by the elbow and jerked her up into standing position. "Laugh while everything is still a big joke to you, daughter dearest, because things aint gonna be so funny anymore." he said sternly, leading her toward the basement. As they passed through the kitchen he picked up the bucket of cleaning chemicals and slapped them into her arms, causing it to back splash onto her shirt. "Hey!" she protested, trying to break free of Bobby's grip, but his hold was iron locked.
Chet was a real sawed off asshole as Bobby gave Beth a lesson in all things dark side. "We can't be killed, you incompetent chew toys." he snarled. "You shut your mouth." Beth filled a syringe with the contents of the bucket and slowly approached him. "This,' she waved the needle around in his face, hovered over him ' ,is gonna make you start talking." she went to stick him and he revolted back. "No!"
"Talk!"
Chet laughed in her face, and then before their eyes he morphed into Bobby.
"What the Hell…"
There was heavy footsteps behind them, they turned around and watched Dean hobble down the steps. He had beers in hand. When he approached them, he looked at monster Bobby chained to the chair. "Now that's weird." he commented, then pulled himself up a seat. "Anything?" he asked them.
"Oh, there's something in here – oh wow!" Chet spoke up in Bobby's grizzly voice, then he began to cackle. "Bobby boy here knew all along about his little offspring's." he said, now inside Bobby's memories. Beth looked at him quizzically, she lowered the syringe away from him. "Keep talking." She demanded. "Don't listen to him, he's lying." Bobby muttered, going pale. With raised brows, Dean lounged back in his seat and drank. Chet laughed, "I don't have to lie. It's all up here now." He turned his eyes over to look Beth in the face. "Awe, he was even there to see you and your stupid sister take your first steps together." he flashed a wicked toothy grin that didn't match any of Bobby's personal expression.
Beth splashed a shooting stream of borax right into Chet's face, his flesh began to disintegrate and he howled. "If I can't kill you, I can sure as Hell torture you." She laughed manically, "That's fair enough game for me. How about from the inside out, huh?" Then the syringe was plunged into Chet's neck, Beth emptied it. "Stop! Stop!" She stepped back, an evil gleam in her eyes and that sick smile once again popping up at the corners of her mouth. "Talk!"
"Dean, get her out of here!" Bobby suddenly barked.
Dean got up, "Alright, come on Beth." he grabbed her around the waist and without much effort began to pull her up the steps with him, she didn't put up a fight this time. Chet the Bobby yelled behind them as they opened the basement door. "He forgot about you, sweetheart, and spent his time raising Sam and Dean inste-" Chet was silenced as Bobby swung a machete through his neck.
Beth slammed the basement door shut, then she began to send her fist into the closest wall. She got in three punches when Dean caught her around the wrist. "Hey, control yourself!" Beth tried to rip free of him, tears glazed in her eyes, but he pulled her into him and hugged her tight. "Beth, come on now, I know exactly how it is to have a father that could be nominated for a Most Dick Moves Ever award." she sniffled a small laugh and tried to pull back from him, but his arms remained locked in place. "Listen to me. Bobby is trying, you gotta give him that." Dean told her. He motioned his head toward the basement. "Down there – you were taking it out on Bobby, you lost control."
"You're only sticking up for him because he was there for you." Beth countered sadly, she poked him in the chest, finally managing to rip free of his grasp. "Thanks for all the fun, but I'm out of here." She went toward the door, then Dean caught her by the elbow. "You can't go off by yourself while there's a freakin Purgatory Purge going on out there." Beth gritted her teeth. "Let me go, Dean."
"I can't, you see, im a gimp now because of you, and the least you could do is help walk a fella over to the couch." She rolled her eyes but helped him to the couch, then as she moved to turn away from him, cold metal wrapped around her wrist.
"Really?"
Dean smirked and yanked her down to sit next to him by their connected cuffs. "Sit." Dean said, "Let's chat." Beth sighed. "Well, when a woman begins to menstruate, the walls of her -" "Shut up!" Dean grimaced in disgust. "Nice chat." Beth smirked. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then slowly said, "Tell me about Crowley." Her smirk vanished, and her eyes looked up at him in shock, "How do you know about that?" she asked. He shrugged, "Your sister Kris loves to sell you out. She told Sam on our way to Kentucky." She took breaths, in her nose and out her mouth. "Dean…I don't want to talk about it."
"Not talking about it is the most effective way to be killed in this line of work." Bobby piped in. Dean and Beth turned their heads as the old man slugged into the room with a beer, he took a seat next to Beth. Beth's face twisted, "What am I supposed to say?" she asked rhetorically harsh. "It was the only way I could save her." She went silent for a moment, then with a thick voice, she said. "I can't sell my soul for a deal breaker because when the time comes I have to use it to save Kris, she's the only family I got." Finally she broke, and hid her face in Dean's shoulder so nobody could see her tears.
Bobby looked at Dean in confusion. "Mind filling me in on the Crowley crap?"
"Kris sold Beth's first born in exchange for strippers."
Beth looked up at him so fast, her neck almost snapped. "Strippers? What? No." she shook her head, brows furrowed. "Is that what she told you?" she let out a sniffled chuckle. Dean's confusion deepened. "She lied to Sam?" Beth nod, then she turned to look at Bobby. "She summoned up Crowley and sold her soul under the condition that one day we'd find you." Bobby looked like he was smacked across the face. "Why would she do that? What about your demon baby thing?" Bobby asked as he tried to wrap that doozy around his head. "And I thought my brother was crazy…" Dean mulled to himself.
Beth made a move to stretch her arms, then realized Dean was connected to one. "Could you…" she waved their joined hands around. "Yeah, keep talking." Beth took a deep breath. "Kris preformed the ritual while I went down to steal a bottle of booze – '
Beth had to be quiet, if their step-dad caught her breaking into the liquor cabinet one more time, surely there would be Hell to pay. With ease she picked open the lock and took out the best bottle of scotch that the low life, sorry excuse of a man had. She opened the bottle and took a gulping swig, relishing the flavor. As she tip-toed back up the steps she thought again of her real father. He was out there somewhere in the world fighting evil, a real hero. He and her mother had hunted together for a short while, but then he had to leave again, mom said something about a man named John Winchester needing help finding a yellow eyed demon that had killed the man's wife. Bobby Singer was the best of the best when it came to tracking evil and sending it back to Hell, and Beth wanted to be just like him. She herself had three kills under her belt before she turned fifteen, deep down, she knew her dad would be proud.
But first, she and Kris needed to track down Bobby. When she stepped back into the basement, Kris was face to face with a handsome, well dressed fella standing in the middle of a Devils Trap. "Good, it worked." said Beth. She strolled passed them and poured scotch into three glasses. She picked them up and took a stand next to Kris, then she handed her sister a glass. "I assume you lasses summoned me up to strike a deal." Crowley said, and accepted the glass from Beth. "That's right, Crowley, we need help finding our real father. Bobby Singer." Crowley pulled the glass away from his mouth and hummed in delight. "Mmm! This is excellent scotch, darling, do you mind?" he tilted his empty glass toward Beth, and she refilled it for him.
"Can you help us find our dad or not?" Kris asked.
"Of course I can." He said, "But it'll cost you more than this scotch." He took another drink, looking between the twins. Beth opened her mouth to talk, but Kris had beat her to the punch. "Fine." She said.
Crowley snapped his fingers. "Done."
"Kris!" Beth protested.
"Awe, look at you, trying to save your dear sisters soul from an eternity in Hell." He smirked. "Don't worry, my darling Bethers, I'll take good care of her when my Hell Hounds come to collect."
Kris emptied her glass, an attempt to calm her crawling nerves. "How long?" she asked.
Crowley strolled around the Devils Trap and held his glass out for another drink, he began to talk again once Beth filled it back. "Deals are ten years, no more, no less." His eyes darted between the twins from behind the glass, an underlying gleam shown through them. "But – you girls have managed to hit my sweet spot with this scotch." Beth laughed without humor. "You? A sweet spot? – Please." she rolled her eyes. Crowley laughed, "Alright, you caught me." and then his composure turned to one of complete business. "You see, as you girls are twins, your souls are bound together." The sisters shared a look. "How else do you explain the telepathy thing?" Beth poured herself more scotch and drank it down quickly. "What's the deal?"
Crowley flashed them a wicked grin. "I will find Bobby Singer for Kris' soul," he turned and looked at Beth with that same gleam reappearing in his eyes. "As for yours, Beth…Well, I can sense a strong darkness radiating from it."
Beth filled her cup again, "What do you mean?" she was going to need more scotch.
Crowley held his glass out for another refill, "I need to turn up the heat in Hell, and the corrupted soul inside of you Beth, well, it's very powerful." he explained, "That step father of yours that likes you as his favorite punching bag won't last very much longer, Beth, it's only a matter of time before you kill him in cold blood." Beth opened her mouth to protest, but Crowley held up his hand to stop her. "I know this, and you know it, too."
She did not argue his case, because she knew he was right.
Crowley continued. "Every King needs a Queen."
"Queen of Hell?" Beth asked, unbelieving.
"I very much like the evil rolling around in that pretty head of yours, Beth. It's the best bargain you will ever hear me make, you should take it, because your soul is mine anyways."
Beth thought about it hard, then she looked at her little sister. Maybe if she did take on the position as Queen of Hell, then just maybe she could save Kris' soul.
"Deal." She finally said.
Crowley grinned, "Fantastic!" he finished his scotch and handed back over the glass. "I'll be seeing you around, Beth." He snapped his fingers and vanished.
Suddenly something happened inside of Beth, it made her double over, "Ohh!" she clutched at her pelvic area, biting back another yelp of pain. It was like the worst period cramp ever, she felt like she was being sawed apart from the inside out. "Beth!" Kris grabbed hold of her and tried to help her steady her back on her feet. Beth shoved her away, and a warmth spread out through her underwear and down her thighs. She looked down and gasped as an alarming amount of blood flooded her pants and began to form a puddle at her feet.
' , We were 15 then, and just like he said – I killed my stepdad when I came to visit mom for our 23rd birthday. That was a week ago, and I've been hearing Crowley in my head since I pulled that trigger." She looked between Dean and Bobby, both stuck in silence from her story.
Dean was the first to snap out of it, "What about your mom? Kris told Sam that Crowley sent demons to possess and kill them that night." Beth looked to him with sarcasm. "You mean that night we sold our souls for lap dances?" she tried to bite back a laugh. "Kris can't lie worth a shit.' she said, ',but we needed some kind of cover story to tell if she began to crack." Beth sighed deeply, then buried her face in her hands. "She has two more years left, of course she's starting to crack up."
Bobby managed to grasp what she'd told them, "Lucille…" was all he said. Beth smiled at him, but her eyes were sad. "Who?" Dean piped in. "Mom is in a heavily warded safe house taking care of Baby Bobby while I try and figure out a way to clean up this whole stink of a mess."
"Baby Bobby?" Dean asked, a confused brow raising.
The first real smile appeared on Beth's face, "Robert Steven Singer the Second. My son, he's almost eight." she said, "Angels have been trying to kill him since the day he was born for being an abomination." Beth let the word roll off of her tongue like it was sour. "I thought I was going to bleed out after the deal with Crowley, turns out that agreeing to become the Queen of Hell came with liability insurance, and I had a baby nine months later."
The couch gave in next to them and they turned to find that Bobby had fainted once again.
They stood together, Dean used Beth as a crutch, "Does he do this often?" Beth asked.
"Only when he goes into shock." said Dean.
Well, that escalated quickly.