Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable in the following story. The characters that you don't recognize are figments of my imagination and still I claim no ownership. Supernatural belongs to the WB, the CW and all. I referenced the DaVinci Code and aside from being an enjoyable read & owning a copy of the book I don't own that either. That belongs to Dan Brown. I haven't made a profit on this story so please don't sue. I don't own anything anyway so there's nothing to gain from it.
Chapter 4
Matt closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket. That girl always had the worst timing. He forcibly reopened his newspaper and leaned back on the park bench glancing around the surrounding area every few moments.
His contact was late. Very late. Patric was a demon and not one that Matt liked to call on.
There were many parks around his apartment complex that he could've chosen but he'd driven for forty-five minutes to get here. Three hours later he was sitting on an uncomfortable park bench with a crinkly newspaper he'd read several times over.
Sighing heavily he forced himself to keep on alert because his contact was a fae or faerie.
Today's folklore painted faeries as small pixie like figures with gauze like wings much like Tinkerbell in Peter Pan. In reality they were nothing like that. They were either short troll like figures or tall angelic like human figures. In this case Patric was an angelic looking human. Matt knew he'd have to watch his step. His contact had never steered him wrong, he just couldn't bring himself to trust him after everything that had happened. But more than that faeries were known for their mischief and malice. He knew that Patric was more of the practical joke player but still it never hurt to be vigilant. Reaching into his pocket he fingered the pieces of iron and St. Johns wort. They were his only protection against Patric's kind.
A tall young man walked up to the park bench and sat down.
"You're late," Matt said.
"What can I say? Traffic is incredibly dense in your city," the man said off handidly.
"Said the man who has the capability to fly and see the future," Matt said dryly.
Patric chuckled lightly. "Hey it's your time you're wasting. So let's get down to it. Word is you're looking for a healer."
"Believe it or not yeah," Matt said.
"Oh I believe you," Patric said turning his head to glance at him. "You, John Winchester, his sons, Caleb, Jim and your Serena are all beyond crazy. Any and all rumours are believed when it comes to your happy club."
Matt snorted. "And you already know whether or not I'm going to be successful or not but won't share."
"Correct. Give you crazy humans that kind of information and you'd just get dead. Now who's sick? I know for a fact it's not Serena. She's been having way too much fun."
Matt gave him a hard glare. "Leave her out of this. In fact keep your freak show clan away from her. And how is it that psychic boy doesn't know who's sick?"
Patric's smile grew. "You are spending far too much time with that child of yours. And psychic boy can't see everything. If I totally opened myself up I'd fry my superior brain from overload. You know that."
Matt sighed. "No one's sick. We're just looking."
"I know you're lying. Never lie to the psychic boy," Patric said with a smirk. "Who's life is in danger Matt?"
"Well actually there's a patient of Joshua's. She was seriously ill and suddenly she was cured," Matt said.
Patric scanned the park around. "Side effects from a faith healer? Or maybe that whatever she's done is temporary?"
Matt simply nodded.
"Your Joshua always was a worrier," Patric said.
"What do you know Patric?" Matt asked.
"Honestly I don't know much. What I can tell you is Ford City, Nebraska. There's been some talk in the darker side of the community that some of the more malicious attacks have been reversed. But as close as we can figure is that it's coming out of Ford City, Nebraska. There's something happening there Matt but the ones that have ventured there have come back perplexed and silent about the entire matter."
Matt snorted. "You expect me to believe that?"
"No but it's the truth," Patric said. "Look we've known each other since you were a child which is long enough that you don't need the cold iron and St. Johns wort that's in your pocket. I wish you could trust me but I also know you blame us for the deaths of Serena's parents. Let me say it again. If it came from my people I couldn't find the culprit and it sure as Hell wasn't me."
"There were signs," Matt said heatedly.
"I know that's what you believe and I will keep telling you the truth. Maybe one day you will hear me. It wasn't us," Patric said and sighed. "That aside you need to go to Ford City Nebraska. The answers you are looking for are there."
"We'll see," Matt said guardedly.
Patric nodded. "Don't tarry there for long. You will be missed on the home front."
"What the Hell is that supposed to mean!" Matt demanded.
"It means what it means," Patric said with a shrug and a cryptic smile. "When the cat's away the mouse will play. A pleasure as always old friend."
Matt was about to ground out a comeback but Patric had already gotten up and was swiftly walking away.
"Faeries!" Matt growled exasperated.
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Four days later Joshua sat at the local coffee house and sipped a vanilla latté. He'd been here for over an hour and was on his second latté. There was no sign of his contact, but in truth he didn't really mind. It was a beautiful day out, barely a cloud in the sky and a light breeze kept him cool as he sat at an outside table reading the Da Vinci Code. This place was a lot better than a back alley or bar.
He put down the book and let his mind wander a bit back to the young horse he'd been treating. It had been wonderful this morning to release her out into a small field and watch after a moment's hesitation to see the horse gallop out into the field. Running this way and that way, finally able to get back out into the fresh outdoors. That was why he did this, no one seemed to get it, but there was a feeling of relief and pride as an animal he'd helped was able to run around again. She still had a long way to go, but she would be completely healed and that's all that mattered.
Joshua looked up as his contact slipped into seat across from him.
"Hello Jill," he said. "You're late."
"I'm here," she said with a shrug. "You know what working emerg can be like."
"Yeah," he said.
"You must really want this cause you're still here," she said.
"What can I say," he said nonchalantly. "They make the best lattés in town."
Jill smiled slightly. "Heard you were looking for a healer."
"That's right," Joshua said.
She nodded. "I may have a candidate for you."
"Go on," Joshua said when she was quiet.
"Look Joshua before I tell you this, you need to know that this is all hear say. I don't have any firm confirmations but after your help last month with Derby, well I couldn't not say anything," she said hesitantly.
"How is the cow doing?" Joshua asked.
"She's fine now," she said.
"So tell me what you know," Joshua said softly bringing them back on track.
Jill took a deep breath and stared down at her hands. Joshua waited patiently while the woman collected her thoughts.
"There's this web site, a billboard, that I lurk on. They have great tips on all things cattle and you know how me and Nate need all the help we can get with those animals," she said softly.
Joshua nodded The couple were new to cattle ranching and he'd helped them find some help for the farm.
"You and your husband do just fine. What was on the site?" Joshua prompted and smiled slightly as the woman shifted uncomfortably. "Whatever it is, no matter how odd or strange it may seem, just tell me. Whatever it is Jill, it won't surprise me."
Jill looked up from her hands and looked at Joshua. "Ok, but it's really strange. The poster said that her husband had been sick for well over a year with cancer. He got in touch with this surgeon and he came to their farm. He just showed up with no instruments or anything."
Jill paused and looked around at the other patrons of the coffee bar. She leaned slightly over the table towards the vet and waited for him to lean in as well before continuing.
"The poster said that the man had her sick husband lie down on their bed without a shirt on. Then he closed his eyes and looked like he was meditating or something. Then without making an incision he reached into her husband's chest. There was blood everywhere. It was on her husband, the doctor and all over the bed. Then he pulled out bloody soft tissue out of his body. The surgeon said it was the tumour and her husband was healed," she said just above a whisper then leaned back in her chair.
Joshua leaned back and was thoughtful for a moment. He took a sip of his coffee as he digested what he had just heard.
"You don't believe what she posted?" Jill asked.
Joshua sighed. "It's hard to say. What you've just described sounds like a psychic surgeon."
"A what?" she asked.
"A psychic surgeon. They are a type of shaman from the Philippines. This type of surgery has been debunked for years although there are many who strongly believe in them. The surgeon makes the person believe that they are removing a tumour. They basically roll the skin a bit and then reach into the folded skin. It looks real and makes the person feel like his hand is going into the body."
"So where does the blood come from then if he's not really doing anything?" She asked.
"Well there is usually a hidden bag either on the surgeon's person somewhere or nearby under the table where they can retrieve it. The bag usually contains things like rodent or chicken innards. They seemingly pull it out of the diseased body. If they want to make it look like there's blood they have a small bag of animal blood that they can squeeze to make it look like the body's bleeding. Basically what is comes down to is sight of hand. Now I'm not saying that the possibility of this working is non-existent. They say the power of belief can do many miraculous things. But the studies that I have read all point to this as being no more than slight of hand. It is not a conductive way to be healed," Joshua said.
"But the man improved," Jill said frowning.
Joshua shook his head slightly. "I don't dispute that. The mind is a very powerful device. If he believed strongly enough he may have been healed and the surgeon was the catalyst to the belief. All I'm saying is that what I've read on the subject states that it doesn't work. The physical act is a magic trick. But if the person believes that he's been healed he might be ok. I am not an expert on the subject."
Jill smiled slightly. "Well they sure seem to believe it was real but I guess it really doesn't help you out, does it?"
"No actually it may have. I'd considered other things like the laying of hands, reiki, homeopathy or some such things. But I didn't think specifically about this. Do you have the address for the web site? I'd like to read the rendition first hand," Joshua said.
"Oh sure," Jill said and wrote it down on a napkin for him.
"Thanks," he said looking at the writing on the paper.
"Sure. Joshua whatever it is you're looking for I hope you find it," Jill said quietly as she stood up.
He looked up at her. "Yeah me too."
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Next chapter tomorrow.