"Stop whining, it doesn't look that bad."
The wind blew through their hair as they waiting in South London for the Scotsman Alistair Crow to pick them up. From where they where sitting, the brothers could peer right onto the front entrance of Bethlam Royal Hospital.
The asylum was thrown into a spin after news spread that one of their maximum-security patients had escaped. From what Dean had heard, it was the first time in living memory it had ever successfully happened. And although Doctor Steinhardt, the strange doctor that played seventies rock on his lunch break, or his part in it wouldn't be remembered, he still felt kind of proud for setting a record.
The London coppers were called in and the city was scoured from top to bottom. Dean also knew that out there somewhere would be Wandell and Hendrickson and whatever little informants were working for them. He still didn't know quite what to make of the good Captain; she seemed a pretty gutsy gal and he might have even grown to like her if it wasn't for the, you know, the whole hunt-and-kill aspect.
Sam had shaved and cut back his shaggy hair, but with his pointed chin and soulful eyes, he was still too obvious. His big brother realised that drastic measures would need to be taken.
So, amidst much complaining, he dyed Sam's hair blonde.
"Methinks thou dost protest too much."
His little brother just glared. "I hate you."
"I know. You remind me frequently." He took a bite from his sandwich. "It'll grow out in a few weeks. You're such a girl."
"I'm such a girl? What would you do if I messed with your conditioner?"
"You think to threaten me through the use of hair care products? I laugh at your puny attempt. I could have left your scrawny ass behind, drugged all the way to happy land, you know."
It was an empty comeback. There was an unspoken pact that had been made when they were still children. Neither brother would ever leave the other behind.
Through the years and the anguish, the pain and the mind-numbing, pant-wetting adventures, that bond was what kept them going. The knowledge that there was always going to be someone beside them to lean on when they needed to. The knowledge that if they slowed down and stopped, someone would prod them in the back and tell them to get a move on.
Okay, uncomfortable chic flick moment over now.
"Hey, isn't that your Emily?"
"She isn't my Emily. She was the doctor that was treating me and who just happened to-"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Looks like she's leaving."
The two watched her load boxes into her car. Sam stood.
"Sammy, you may have gone for the bleached surfer-dude look, but if you poke your head out just for the hell of it, someone's bound to recognise you."
"She can't just leave her job because of me."
"Well, you did vamoose when you were on her watch."
Sam pulled on his jacket. Walked down the cobbles toward her. "Dude! People get fired all the time!" Dean shouted out behind him. "It's no big deal, just another part of the great circle of life!"
Emily Killarney looked up as she heard the sound of approaching footsteps. A tall man was standing before her, blonde and slightly daggy. "Hi, Emily." He said, and she looked up into his eyes. Deep, haunted eyes.
"Oh. It's you again." She sounded so utterly unsurprised and unimpressed that it was almost unnerving. But her body language said something different. Get away from me or I'll scream.
"They fired you."
"Does it matter?" She loaded another box into the car and slammed the trunk.
"But – but they can't do that."
"Actually, they can." She said. "You disappeared during my supervision. That itself is grounds for dismissal, let alone…" Let alone what really happened… "I didn't get fired."
"That's good, isn't it? Then why-?"
"I just couldn't... In four hours I saw something most people couldn't possibly imagine. You. And him. And that Captain Wandell. That was a… a demon. A real one, and I saw it. I'm a psyche doctor; can you guess how many people I treat that tell me that they see demons? "
They both were silent.
Sam heard Dean come up the path behind them. Doctor Killarney cast him a strange look, as if she was still having trouble processing the fact that over several weeks Dean had somehow built up an alter ego under her nose.
"I could stay. I should stay, since I have all my qualifications. But… but the next patient that tells me about the voices in their head…"
"You're going to wonder if they're telling the truth." Dean said gravely.
She looked at him dead-on. "Sometimes it's better not knowing."
"Sometimes it is." He challenged.
"No. These people, these people you see all around you everyday, the ones that ignore you as you walk past, the only way they make it through the day is by carefully not knowing what's in the darkness, what's outside, what lives next door. Because if they really, really thought about it, none of them could handle it. The truth can set you free, but it can also eat you away from the inside."
"Tell me about it." Sam said softly.
"This is your world." Emily said. "Not mine. That sort of thing scars you for life, and for you to stand up and tell all those creatures no means you're a stronger person than I am. Than we are."
"I'm sorry."
She opened the driver's side door. Smiled wanly at Sam. "When I was twenty-five, I'd thought I'd seen it all. No matter how twisted it turned out to be, I'm glad I was proven wrong." She slammed the door. "Now hit the road before my traumatisation means nothing."
The brothers watched from a distance as Emily Killarney drove away.
"I guess she wasn't that bad." Dean said. "I mean, for a doctor and all."
"Yeah." Sam agreed. "Not bad at all."
"Yeah." Dean paused. "So."
"So."
"So… how was it like in the nut-house?"
"Actually," Sam pondered his answer, running his fingers through his newly platinum locks. "Actually, it was pretty relaxing. No physical exertion, no knife fights, no explosions. It was pretty tame. Apart from, you know, the badass demon and all. But it still felt like something was missing, though."
"No one tried to kill you?"
Sam nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."
"It's how you know we care." His brother said. "Also including the medically-approved drugs and three square meals a day."
"Yeah. And on the upside, if Hendrickson and Wandell do catch me, I have the records to plead insanity."
"Cool. Hey, what do you think of Captain Wonder Woman anyway?" Turning away, Dean kicked at a pebble and watched it bounce down the sidewalk. "I'm still having trouble digesting the fact that she let us go."
"Even after what I did to her father."
Dean rolled his eyes heavenward. "Oh, for crying out loud. The dude's dead. You were possessed. Bottom line is that it's not your fault. Um, strictly, strictly speaking. We do not need anymore angst than we already have."
"Dean, I killed Steve Wandell. You saw it. Somehow she saw it too."
"So what? She waited long enough make a play for revenge, didn't she?"
"Dad waited twenty three years before he got revenge on the thing that killed Mom."
"Irrelevant." Dean waved his hand in a dismissive gesture at the two walked back down the road to the park. "Dad was hunting a demon. No offence, but Mustang Sally is only hunting you."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you should have seen her and Hendrickson together. Half the time she was flipping him off and the other half she was grooving to her own beat."
"So what?" Sam was starting to get annoyed now.
"Little Miss Commando, with all new Holy water blasters? Treating a demonic onslaught like another day at the office? And I don't suppose you noticed the Colt neatly tucked into her trousers?"
"Dude, you really checked her out."
"Sure, I checked her out before. When I found out who she really was I checked her out even more. You would not believe the mojo she carries with her. I don't know why Hendrickson hasn't got suspicious yet."
"Maybe she hasn't told him." Sam said. Then- "Wait. You broke into her room?"
"Relax. I didn't leave anything behind."
"If she's as prepared as you're implying, you didn't need to! What amazes me is why she didn't report that you were here too!"
"Indeed. Makes you wonder, yes?"
And indeed, it did make Sam wonder. "Oh, God."
"This isn't as cut-and-dried as we thought. She's up to something. We gotta find out what." Dean rubbed his chin, his eyes thoughtful. Sam read him at once.
"Oh, no. No. You are not going to the FBI."
"I'm not going to march up the steps and give myself up. Undercover. Deep undercover."
"Dude, a real undercover op is not about getting dressed up for half an hour to fool some dumb girl behind the counter. It's weeks, maybe months or years, to build up a repertoire and a reputation. To know completely how everything runs. And if your mask slips even once, they'll crucify you alive."
"Sounds exciting." Dean said.
"Dean-" Sam sighed. There was no point to trying to talk him out of anything once the idea was in his head. Maybe if I leave it alone, he'll forget about it.
"Hey, Sam?"
"What now?"
"We'll be home for Christmas."
"I see what's happening."
"You're in Queens. There's no possible way you could see what's happening."
"Ah, so droll." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "And with one foul swoop, the Winchester boys have claimed yet another casualty, with their big, wide, innocent eyes and boyish charm."
"I was outnumbered. Three demons, possibly more. And I like living, so there was no contest."
"You still let them go. Even after the exorcism. What I don't get is why. I know you. I know the people you're after don't just disappear. You're looking at them right now, aren't you, you sly dog?"
Sally Wandell ignored the uncannily accurate observation from someone halfway around the world. She looked away from the park, away from the two tall men waiting for their ride to arrive.
"If I'd have made a move while Sam Winchester was down, I'd be no better than he was. And there's no way I can go for them now without any cover, and too many witnesses about."
"Ah, a moral dilemma."
"I'm surprised you even know what that means."
The throaty laugh was tinny over the mobile's receiver. "And of course you're the saint that could do no wrong. How dirty are your hands, Sal? How many have met their end through you? No wonder so many of your kind prefer the darkness, creeping among the shadows."
Sally smiled patiently. "I wouldn't be so rude, if I were you. Especially when this is a business call."
"So Miss Morality has finally sunk down to my level. Congratulations and welcome to the sisterhood. What do you want? The Seal of Solomon? A page of the Voynich Manuscript?"
"Nothing as mundane. I want to hire you."
There was stunned silence on the end of the line for several seconds. Then the other woman was back, her usual haughty, unruffled self. "Is the line clean?" She demanded crisply.
"Don't you think I'd know by now if I'd been tapped? The FBI has only managed to isolate the home number, and that was a while back. Good old Dad and his satellite bouncing. There's no point doing anything about it."
"Let 'em think they've got one over you." She agreed. "Alright, grasshopper, you should know I charge by the day. Plus expenses and danger money for any unforseen additional risks I may be forced to take. Oh, and I'm a thief. Not a murderer. If you expect me to do your dirty work, I'll come back and snap your neck."
Sally decided not to point out the flaws in that statement. "Duly noted and dealt with. Figure out where and what account you want the cash to go to." She watched as the Winchesters rose and walked across the street to a dark green vehicle that had crawled into a park in front of the butcher's.
Something big is going down. And you two are at the centre of it.
"Animal, vegetable, or mineral?"
"His name is Henry Colt." She said.
"Sorry, darl. I don't do people."
"Is that because you're afraid of getting your butt kicked?" Sally asked coolly. "Let's see, I'll throw in an extra fifty grand. On top."
"Is Monday early enough for you?" She asked. Sally knew she had fallen for the lure of the incentive. "And just so you don't start thinking you've got preferential treatment, you better remember that this isn't the first job I've run for a hunter before. I know how you guys operate. And if you try to weasel out, I'll track you down."
Bela laughed again before hanging up.
'Stand my ground, I won't give in
No more denying, I've got to face it
Won't close my eyes and hide the truth inside
If I don't make it, someone else will
Stand my ground'
AN:
I don't own Supernatural or anything associated. Alistair Crow, Emily Killarney and Sally Wandell are my creations.
The lyrics of Stand my Ground belong to Within Temptation and anyone associated.
Kelley Armstrong was the author that linked the demon Dantalion to being trapped in Glamis Castle in her book Haunted.
In the Ars Goetia, part of the Lesser Key of Solomon, Dantalion (the demon that possesses Sam) is referred to as the 71st of the 72 demons Solomon summoned and imprisoned. 'His office is to teach all Arts and Sciences unto any', and in other texts, he often hasn't been included.
The Monster of Glamis was supposedly the malformed first son of an Earl. There are many versions, including how he was supposed to have lived for hundreds of years and have inhuman strength, and one story where he was bricked up in the walls.
The ghost Dean met was Earl Beardie, who challenged the Devil to a game of dice on the Sabbath and lost his soul. They say you can hear the rolling of dice and the sound of someone swearing. In an alternate version it was a game of cards.
The ghost Sam met is yet to be identified. She wanders the Castle crying, pulling at her scarred face. She's often seen at one of the highest towers.
The two things that Bela mentioned:
The Seal of Solomon was the amulet used to bind the demons Solomon summoned so they could not leave his service.
The Voynich Manuscript is yet to be deciphered, but is believed to be a 15th century Grimorie.