**Hey! Unfortunately, this is another short one. Sorry, but I think the next couple will be longer. If anyone has any ideas for flashbacks or comments on the story please review! I really love this episode! It's one of my all time favorites! Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! You are all really amazing, and the reviews keep me inspired and writing more! Hope you love this chapter as much as I loved writing it!**
Night Shifter
"So what's it like?" The woman asked Dean and I as she came out with the papers we'd requested. "Being an FBI guy?" She specified, her eyes fixed on Dean and completely ignoring my existence. I resisted the urge to take Dean's hand and give her a pointed look. We were on the job, which meant no distractions.
"Well… it's dangerous, you know," Dean started, glancing at me before giving her his full attention. "And the secrets we got to keep - oh, countless secrets," He glanced at me again, giving me a quick wink and a slight grin. I grinned back before turning my attention to the papers in my hands. "But mostly it's dangerous,"
"I so know what you mean," The woman, whose name I'd already forgotten, looked at Dean with wide eyes as I rolled mine.
"I'm going to see help Agent Johnson," I informed Dean brusquely, referring to Sam, who was interrogating the manager a few yards away. If I stayed where I was, I would end up blowing our cover. I crossed the room quickly, ignoring Dean's protests.
"He called me at home," The manager was saying, and I instantly understood he was speaking of the guard who'd died.
"And that's when she took his gun?" Sam prompted the grieving man, who nodded heavily.
"She shot him in the face," He confirmed, not meeting our eyes anymore. "I heard him die over the phone,"
"Do you have any idea what her motive was?" I inquired, and his face twisted into disgust at the question.
"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry and then, what, just dump it somewhere? Just hide it and then go home and commit suicide?" He searched our faces for an answer we didn't have.
"So you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then?" Sam asked, ignoring the man's rhetorical questions.
"The police - they took all the tapes first thing," The manager told us.
"Of course they did," I glanced back at Dean, who'd joined us. "We should get going," He informed us, and we thanked the manager before leaving the bank. We drove for half an hour before we came to the right house. It was the next stop on our list. The home of the only witness. "This is it," Dean announced, parking and getting out. "Freaking cops,"
"They're just doing their job," I reminded him gently, knowing he was pissed off that wherever we went, the police were hovering over us like a looming threat.
"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it," He slammed the door and walked around the hood of the car to stand next to me on the sidewalk. "Talk to me about this bank," He returned the subject to the hunt.
"Milwaukee National Trust - it was hit a month ago. Same M.O. as the jewelry store: inside job, longtime employee, suicide," I informed him, having read the files enough times to know everything about this case by heart.
"Yeah, dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide," Sam added as Dean took in the information.
"And this guy Resnick was the security guard on duty?" Dean checked while we ascended the steps to Resnick's front porch.
"Yeah, he was beaten by the robber. The cops found him unconscious in the morning," I remembered as I knocked on the door. "Mr. Resnick!" I called, impatient for us to get on with this case. Suddenly, a bright, blaring light shined down at us from the corner, making us wince and cover our faces. A short, chubby man with bushy black hair came to the door to get a better look at us. "FBI," I stated, covering my eyes with my cupped hand to get a better look at the man.
"Let me see the badge," Dean, Sam, and I pressed our badges against the glass door, making Ronald squint at them for a moment before looking back at us distrustingly. "I already gave my statement to the police,"
"Yeah, listen, Ronald, um, just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on," Dean explained, which caused the distrust to lift slightly.
"You read it?" He questioned cautiously.
"Sure did," Dean responded with false cheerfulness.
"Come to listen to what I got to say?" He asked, the distrust lifting even more.
"That's why we're here," Dean agreed.
"Well…come on in," Ronald opened the door for us and led us into the house. "See, none of the cops ever called me back, not after I told them what was really going on. They all thought I was crazy," We walked into his living room and stopped short in surprise. Taped to the walls was a collage of newspaper and magazine clippings. "First off, Juan Rallis never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That I guarantee. See, me and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards,"
"So you let him into the bank that night, after hours," Sam's tone was slightly accusing, making me shoot him a sharp glance.
"The thing I let into the bank… wasn't Juan. I mean, it had his face, but it wasn't his face. Every detail was perfect, but too perfect, you know, like if a doll maker made it, like I was talking to a big Juan doll," I raised my eyes skeptically as he finished his statement.
"Juan doll?" I echoed, my voice betraying my doubt.
"Look," Ronald shoved a file at me. "This wasn't the only time this happened, okay? There was this jewelry store, too, and the cops and you guys, you just won't see it," I opened the file to take a look at the pictures and newspaper clippings that were clipped inside. "Both crimes were pulled by the same thing,"
"Which is?" I prompted, glancing up and again raising my eyebrows. In answer, Ronald grabbed a magazine and pointed to the cover picture of a robot that vaguely resembled a man.
"Chinese been working on them for years, and the Russians before that - part man, part machine, like the terminator, but the kind that can change itself, make itself look like other people," Ronald elaborated enthusiastically.
"Like the one from 'T2'," Dean helped him out, making me smile slightly despite Sam's sour look.
"Exactly! See? So not just a robot, more of a - a man-droid," He finished, smiling widely at his work. I had to admit, except for the man-droid thing he was spot on.
"A man-droid?" Sam repeated doubtfully.
"What makes you so sure about this, Ronald?" Dean questioned with a small smile tugging at his lips. Ronald's face broke out into a big grin, and he pointed at Dean excitedly. A minute later, we were seated on the couch as Ronald pushed a tape into his VCR.
"See, I made copies of all the security tapes. I knew once the cops got them, they'd be buried," He explained shortly, grabbing the remote off the top of the television. "Here," He rewinded to the middle of the tape. "Now watch," It began to play, and I could see Juan come into view, seemingly laughing. "Watch. Watch him. Watch. Watch. See, look, there it is!" He froze the tape. My eyes widened, and my muscles tensed as I took in Juan's glowing eyes. Shapeshifter. "He's got the laser eyes! Cops said it was some kind of reflected light, some kind of 'Camera flare'. Okay? Ain't no damn camera flare. They say I'm a post-trauma case. So what? Bank goes and fires me. It don't matter. The man-droid is still out there," He pinned another newspaper article to the wall before turning to face us again. "If the law won't hunt this thing down, I'll do it myself,"
"You see, this thing, i-it kills the real person, makes it looks like a suicide, then it sort of like morphs into that person, cases the job for a while till it knows the take is fat, and then it finds its opening. Now, these robberies they're grouped together, so I figure the man-droid is holed up somewhere in the middle," He pointed in the middle of the red circles he'd drawn on his map. "Underground maybe - I don't know. Maybe that's where it recharges its man-droid batteries" I was impressed to say the least. In fact, I was all for telling him the entire truth right now. He had basically solved the case for us. I mean, he was a little obsessed, but he'd done a damn good job.
"Okay," Sam started, pausing for a moment as Dean and I looked at him. "I want you to listen very carefully," Dean, Sam, and I stood from the couch. "'Cause I'm about to tell you the god's honest truth about all of this," I completely agreed with Sam's decision, except the next words out of his mouth weren't what I thought they were going to be. "There's no such thing as man-droids. There's nothing evil or inhuman going on out there. It's just people. Nothing else. You understand?" I glanced at Sam before Dean and I exchanged glances, surprised at Sam's apathetic harshness.
"The laser eyes," Ronald protested, pointing to his own eyes.
"Just a camera flare, Mr. Resnick. See, I know you don't want to believe this, but your friend, Juan, robbed the bank, and that's it," I watched Ronald's face go from shocked to sad to furious in seconds.
"Get out of my house!" He yelled, pointing to the door. "Now!" He snapped when we made no sign of leaving.
"Sure. First things first," My lips parted but no words came out as Sam took the man's anger calmly. "We need you to remand the tapes you copied. You understand, of course. It's classified evidence of an ongoing investigation" He didn't wait for Ron's reply, and, instead, walked to the TV and ejected the tape himself, collecting them before returning to Dean and I.
The car ride back was spent in silence. Dean and I were still stunned from Sam's lack of empathy for the man. He'd done some pretty great work. Basically solved the case for us. The motel was only a few minutes away, and Dean parked in front of our room. We'd checked in earlier that day, so we had nothing to take into the room except what we'd made Ron 'remand'.
"Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up," Dean finally broke the silence as he opened a can of beer while I blinked away the fatigue, knowing that it would do no good to be tired this early in the night. "When you told that poor son of a bitch to - what was it?"
"Remand," I supplied Dean from where I was sitting at the table. The motel had only had one vacancy, so Dean, Sam, and I were sharing a room with two twin sized beds. "He asked Ron to remand the tapes he'd copied,"
"Yeah," Dean agreed, remembering what Sam had said. "'Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation'? That's messed up," Dean commented as he sat down beside me to look at the maps I'd laid out.
"What are you two, pissed at me or something?" Sam questioned, sounding pretty pissed himself.
"No," Dean glanced at me as he replied for both of us. "I just think it's a little creepy how good of a fed you are," Sam turned back to the TV where he was watching the recordings.
"We could have thrown him a lifeline back there," I added, knowing Dean felt the same. "I mean, he pretty much solved this case for us," Sam scoffed in answer to my suggestion.
"Man-droid?" He pointed out, and I shrugged in acknowledgement of his point.
"Except that," I admitted, focusing on the maps as I continued speaking. "I liked him," I confessed truthfully.
"Yeah, so did I," Dean agreed, pulling the overlapping map up to check the bottom one. "He's not that different from us. People think we're crazy,"
"Yeah except he's not a hunter, guys," With a sudden flash of clarity, I understood why Sam had been so harsh to Ronald. "He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing, he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark and stay alive," I created a small, red dot with sharpie and began tracing the lines of the sewer system with the recent robberies.
"Yeah, I guess," Dean muttered, not sounding that convinced.
"Shapeshifter," Sam scoffed, pausing the TV on Juan and his laser eyes. "Just like back in St. Louis," I stiffened, my hand hesitating as my muscles tightened.
"Same eye flare," I noted tensely, trying to stem the memories of the shapeshifter in St. Louis.
"I hate those freaking things," Dean's voice gained a deadly tone.
"You think I don't?" Sam asked rhetorically.
"One didn't turn into you and… frame you for murder," Dean only paused a second, but it was long enough to know that 'frame you for murder' wasn't what he'd wanted to say. I took his right hand that lay on the table and intertwined my fingers with his, returning to the tracing I'd been doing. I felt Dean press a kiss into my hair.
"Well, look, if this shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri-" Sam started.
"Then Ronald was right," I finished for him, ready to tell them what I'd been doing. "Okay, so the past one liked to live underground. I'm thinking this one does too. All the robberies have been connected by the sewer main layout, right?" I continued, not waiting for Sam and Dean to answer my question. "Well, there's another Sewer lined up on that sewer main. City Bank of Milwaukee," I circled the bank on my map before slipping on my shoes and standing to see Sam had pulled something out of his bag.
"Oh no," Dean groaned as Sam grinned. In his hands, Sammy held a mechanic's outfit. We hadn't worn those since we'd met up with Meg in Chicago.
Thirty minutes later we were heading towards the array of camera feed with the security guard filling us in on what had been happening. We were wearing the mechanics' outfits that Sam had insisted on. Of course, we altered them slightly, so they now said SECURISERVE GUARD SERVICE across the back.
"Well, we haven't had any flags go up on our system yet," The old, short officer was telling us as he led us through the bank.
"No, no, this is a glitch in the overall grid," Dean explained easily, and the guard seemed to accept it. "Just want to make sure the branch monitors are kosher,"
"Better safe than sorry, I guess," The officer commented, shrugging.
"That's the idea," I agreed as the man opened the door for us.
"All righty. You guys need anything else?" He asked us, and I let Sam answer that question as I sat down before the screens.
"Oh, no, no, no. We'll be in and out before you know it. Just a routine check," Sam replied, turning to the man.
"Okeydokey," The man spoke cheerfully, and I heard the door close a moment later.
"I like him. He says 'okeydokey'," Dean commented, laughing slightly as he sat next to me.
"What if he's the shifter," My gaze darkened as Sam spoke.
"Then we follow him home and put a silver bullet through his brain," I answered promptly, causing both boys to glance at me in surprise, but I focused on the screens. I did not like shifters.
"Okay," Dean sighed as he relaxed next to me, getting comfortable. "You got any popcorn?"
A half hour past and we had nothing to show for it. "Well, looks like Mr. Okeydokey's okeydokey," Dean grinned as he zoomed in on the guard's face. No laser eyes. I frowned as the guard began to come towards the room we were in.
"I'll go stall him. You two try to find our guy," I told them, getting up and leaving the room.
-3rd Person-
Mel had been gone for a few minutes, and Sam didn't miss the way Dean's eyes flicked back to her screen every couple of seconds, as if she might disappear. She was walking through the halls with the guard towards the manager, for she'd said there might be a problem with the cameras and had to talk to him privately. They needed to find this thing fast otherwise they'd all be screwed.
"Maybe we jumped the gun on this, Dean," Sam spoke up, breaking the silence. "I mean, we don't even know it's here. Maybe we should just go to the sewers and…" He trailed off as he saw Dean zooming the camera in on Mel, who was helping a woman pick up some papers. He zoomed in closer to bring the camera to focus on Mel's ass. "Dean!" Sam snapped, and Dean made no reply. Sam couldn't fathom how Mel was with someone like that. He… no. He couldn't think like that. Sam shook his head and focused on the case. "Dean, we're supposed to be looking for eyes,"
"I'm getting there," Dean told him, zooming out as Mel stood and handed the papers back to the woman who'd dropped them. Her and the guard continued to the manager, who turned to face them, showing the camera his eyes. Both Dean and Sam jerked upright as they saw his glowing eyes. Dean had his phone out faster than Sam thought possible.
Yes? Dean's muscles relaxed fractionally as she picked up.
"It's the manager," He knew there was no way the shifter would make a move on her in broad daylight in front of everybody, but it didn't stop him from worrying. Images of Mel tied up and bruised with her shirt ripped open flashed through his mind.
Okay, I got him. She glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room.
"We're coming to you," Dean informed her, and she nodded to show she understood. Sam was already walking towards the door, and Dean stood as he spoke the words, but something caught his eye. "Wait,"
"What?" Sam questioned, not sure if Dean was speaking to him or Mel or both.
What? Mel's voice echoed Sam.
"Hello, Ronald," Dean gestured to the screen as he spoke sarcastically. Ronald Resnick was locking the doors from the inside with a chain and lock.
Ronald's here? Mel asked in disbelief. Suddenly, there were gunshots and people screaming from her end of the line. Shit. She swore softly as Ronald shouted in the background.
"Mel?" No response. "Mel!" Dean snapped her name, needing her to answer.
Yeah. I'm here. I'm going to try to reason with him. She whispered softly into the phone. Just get here.
"We're already on our way," Dean promised her as Sam shut the door behind them, worry and unease clawing at his stomach.
-1st Person-
"Get down, dammit!" I turned to find the bank manager, only to see he'd slipped away in the confusion. Great. I had to deal with Ronald and the shifter. I silently cursed Sam for advocating against bringing guns on this trip as I made my way to the middle of the room with the other hostages. "Now there's only one way in or out of here, and I chained it up, so nobody's leaving, you understand?" Everyone around me nodded. "Hey, I know you," I looked up at him, making his eyes widen and his gun train on me. "Your one of the FBI agents!" I lifted myself off the floor slightly. "Stay down!" Ron yelled at me, causing me to drop to my knees again.
"Alright. Just take it easy," I spoke calmly to him.
"Are those other two with you? You're not a fed, are you?" My eyes slid past him to focus on Dean and Sam coming out of the door to the far left. He cocked the gun when I didn't respond. "Answer me!"
"Hey, buddy," Dean and Sam came into view, and Ronald whipped around. "Why don't you just calm down? Just calm down,"
"What? All of you?" He stepped back, directing the gun at them and then at me again. "Get on the floor now or I'll shoot her!" I nodded to Sam and Dean to do as he said. I knew Ronald wouldn't shoot me, but I also knew it was best to let him think he was in control of the situation.
"Okay, we're doing that," Dean agreed, sinking to the floor with Sam at his side. "Just don't shoot anybody, especially us," He gestured to himself, Sam, and me.
"I knew it - as soon as you three left. You're ain't FBI! Who are you?" He glared at me as he yelled the words. "Who are you working for, huh? The men in black?" Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes, and Ron turned the gun to aim at Sam. "You working for the man-droid?"
"We're not working for the man-droid!" Sam yelled in a condescending, annoyed tone.
"You shut up! I ain't talking to you! I don't like you!" Dean gave him an 'I told you so' look while I fixed him with a 'do what he says' look.
"Fair enough," He muttered quietly, taken aback by Ronald's outburst.
"Get over there," He commanded a man who was sitting by the desks with the others. "Frisk them down, make sure they got no weapons. Go!" The man hurried to Sam, who was clean, before going to Dean. Dean threw me a nervous, apologetic look, and I instantly knew he had something on him. The man frisking him pulled a silver knife out of his shoe. It was the same silver knife I'd given him for his birthday last year after the shapeshifter hunt in St. Louis. "And what have we here?"
"I'm not just going to walk in here naked," Dean defended himself against Sam's incredulous look.
"Give that there," Ronald took the knife and pushed it down the shredder despite Dean and my protests. That knife hadn't been cheap. "Her too," Ronald ordered, and the man frisked me down to find a knife hidden in the cuff of my shirt. Sam shot me a look as well, making me give him a defensive shrug. My silver knife followed Dean's down the shredder.
"Listen, Ronald. You don't want to hurt these people, okay? But that will happen if you don't listen to us. You need to let these people go," I tried to reason with him.
"No!" Ronald shouted his response. "I already told you, if nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've got to do it myself!" He pointed the gun at me as he shouted, making me nervous.
"Hey, we believe you! That's why we're here," Dean tried as well.
"You don't believe me! Nobody believes me! How could they?" I furrowed my eyebrows as a thought occurred to me. He thought he was going crazy. That's why he felt he had to do it himself.
"Ronald, come here," Ronald frowned at me as did Sam and Dean.
"W-what?" He asked, the anger now replaced with confusion.
"You're holding the gun, remember? You call the shots. I just need to tell you something," I reasoned calmly, ignoring Sam and Dean's warning glances. Ronald came closer to me hesitantly, pointing the gun at my forehead in case I tried to make a move. I leaned towards him as he moved closer still. "It's the bank manager," I whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
"What?" He questioned confusedly.
"Why do you think we're dressed like this?" I asked, gesturing to myself, Dean, and Sam. "We've been monitoring the cameras, and we saw the bank manager's eyes,"
"His laser eyes?" Ronald whispered, his own eyes widening at the thought.
"Yes," I agreed, nodding. "Look we're running out of time here. We have to find him before he turns into someone else," I urged Ronald to let us go.
"How do I know you're not lying?" He asked, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. I glanced at Sam and Dean for a moment before I rose to my feet slowly. He instantly raised the gun, aiming it at my chest.
"I will shoot you! Get down!" He yelled at me.
"Mel," Both Ronald and I glanced at Dean as he spoke my name, his voice tense with worry. My eyes widened slightly as he raised himself slowly to his feet as well. "Take us," Ronald lowered the gun slightly in confusion as Dean spoke. "Take us as hostages, but she's right; we have to act fast,"
"The longer we just sit around here waiting, the more time he has to change," I agreed with Dean, and Ronald's eyes flicked between us rapidly for a moment before he lowered the gun. "Look, we believe you. You aren't crazy, okay? There is something inside this bank, and we need to find it,"
"All right," He agreed finally, and I let out a breath of relief. "Y-You two come with me, but everyone else gets in the vault!" His voice rose to a yell as he raised the gun and gestured to the innocent people cowering by the desks. Everyone got up and hurried to the vault with Ronald ushering them from behind.
"Come on, move!" He urged as everyone filed into the vault. Sam went in, and Ron stopped me by placing the gun across my chest, making Dean, who was walking behind me, freeze as well. "Then you two lock it up," Dean and I pulled the vault door, pausing before it was shut to look in at the people.
"It's okay, everyone. Just stay cool," I met Sam's gaze as Dean spoke, and he nodded slightly to me. I unzipped the mechanics jumpsuit, revealing my skinny jeans and black tank top with a white flannel over it. I threw the jumpsuit in a heap on the side of the room and gestured for Dean and Ron to follow me. Dean changed as well before following Ron and me to the manager's office. "Check behind the desk," Dean instructed as he and I headed to the manager's private room. We ran back when we heard Ron yell. He was laying in a pile of shed skin. He let out a scream and jerked upright.
"What the hell is that?" Ron demanded us, pointing the gun at the skin as if it were going to attack him at any moment. Dean reached over and turned the lamp to shine on the skin, illuminating it's grotesqueness.
"Great," I muttered sarcastically, kneeling by the goo.
"When it changes forms, it sheds its old skin. So now it could be anybody," Dean explained as Ron touched the skin in fascination.
"So…so weird," Ron mused, and I glanced at him to see him now holding a piece of the flesh. I made a face and swallowed my disgust. "It's robot skin is so lifelike,"
"Okay, Ron. It's not a man-droid," I realized that in the time we'd been together, no one had bothered to tell him that man robots didn't actually exist. "It's called a shapeshifter,"
"Shapeshifter?" Ron repeated as I stood from where I'd been kneeling.
"Yeah," Dean confirmed, turning his attention from the door to Ron. "It's human, more or less. It has human drives, you know, and in this case, it's money. But it generates its own skin. It can shape it to match someone else's features, you know, tall, short or-"
"So i-it kills someone and then takes their place," Ron broke in, putting the pieces together excitedly.
"Kills them - doesn't kill them. I don't think it really matters," Dean began walking around the room hurriedly.
"W-w-what are you doing?" Ron demanded as Dean picked up a silver letter opener from the desk.
"Nice," He commented, glancing at me and nodding to show it was, in fact, all silver.
"You know the old werewolf stories where silver kills them? It came from these creatures. Silver's the only thing we know of that can kill them," I explained as Dean tossed me the opener before turning towards the door. "Come on, Ron!" I called back as we left the room. "Dean…" I trailed off, not quite knowing how to put my feeling into words. I frowned, forcing my hearing to expand beyond the walls of the bank. Shit. "Dean, the police are here,"
"Shit," He swore and opened his mouth to continue when we heard chuckling behind us. "What are you, nuts?" Dean asked him, frowning at the shorter man.
"That's just it," Ron began gleefully, making Dean and I turn to face him. "I'm not nuts. I mean, I was so scared that I was losing my marbles, but this is real. I mean, I-I was right, except for the man-droid thing. Thank you," He gestured to me, and I gave him a small, genuine smile, amused by his excitement at not being insane. I was about to reply when the lights cut out, shrouding us in darkness. I immediately felt Dean's hand feeling for my own, and I moved closer to him, letting him know where I was while pulling out the silver letter opener he'd given me.
"Damn it," He muttered as the emergency lights came on. "No, no, no, no, no,"
"What? What is it?" Ron asked, his voice betraying his fear.
"They cut the electricity," I informed him, glancing back at his confused expression before elaborating. "Basically, they're saying 'hi',"
"Who?" Ron questioned, making me roll my eyes at his naivety.
"Cops," Dean responded as we began to walk again.
"Cops?" Ron echoed in shock, making Dean whirl on him.
"Well, you weren't exactly a smooth criminal about this, Ron. I mean, you didn't even secure the security guard. He probably called them," Dean snapped, getting more irritated by the second.
"Well, I didn't think to-" He began defensively, but I cut him off.
"Hang on, okay? By now they definitely have us surrounded. They cut power to the cameras, so we can't see who the shifter is that way," I reasoned logically, trying to find a way out of this.
"So, it's not looking good for us," Dean finished, turning to go, but suddenly there was a faint clatter, making the three of us freeze. "Did you hear that?" Dean dropped his voice to a whisper, and I nodded, glancing at Ron, who had his gun up and pointed in the direction the noise had come from. We cautiously approached the source of the noise, and I let my hearing drift in front of us to pick up any danger that could be coming our way. We whipped around the corner to find six people cowering with their hands up.
"Come on. Move!" Ron ushered them towards the vault as Dean and I led them. Dean snatched the gun from Ronald, ignoring his protests as he opened the door.
"Oh, my God! You saved us! You saved us!" An annoyingly excited voice came greeted Dean as he swung open the vault.
"Actually, I just found a few more," He told her, turning to face the newcomers. "Come on, everybody. Let's go. Let's go,"
"What are you doing?" The same voice sounded crestfallen as the last of the people made their way into the vault.
"Sam," I stood beside Dean to look at Sam, who looked beyond pissed. "We have to talk to you," I stepped out of the way as Sam walked past us, and Dean shut the door. "It slipped skins again," I told him as we stopped walking and faced each other. "We don't know who it is - or where,"
"Great," Sam muttered sarcastically, glancing at me and then at his hands. "You know, Dean, you are wanted by the police,"
"Yeah," Dean chuckled, but I knew he was covering up how worried he was.
"So even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?" He pointed out what I was already thinking about.
"I'm working on it, alright? One problem at a time," I told him, massaging my temples. "Dean and I should sweep the place. See if we can find any others,"
"Good idea," Dean agreed readily. "Then once we get everyone together we can play a little game of 'find the freak'," Dean joked darkly before holding another silver cutter out to Sam. "So here. I found another one of these for you. Now, stay here,"
"Keep Ronald out of trouble," I added as Sam looked down at the cutter in annoyance. "Help him manage-"
"Help him manage?" Sam repeated my words angrily, looking up to glare at me. "Are both of you insane?" He snapped, and I glanced past him at Ron, who had looked over at Sam's raised voice. Dean flashed him a thumbs up, and Ron nodded, smiling.
"Look, I know this is playing out exactly how we thought it would-" I began.
"Understatement," Sam interrupted, making me give him a pointed look.
"Alright, but if we invite the cops in now Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, the shifter gets away, probably never find it again, okay -" Dean explained, and I knew Sam would agree; we had no other options. Sam just gestured to Ron, making Dean and I look at the man who was pointing his gun upwards and standing by the window.
"Ron!" I hissed at him, causing him to look at me. "Get out of the light," I motioned with my hand to the side while Dean chuckled in amusement.
"Seriously?" Sam snapped at us, and I frowned at him, not understanding why he was being so difficult all of a sudden. We had no other options.
"Yeah, Ron's game plan was a bad plan. It was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now, crazy's the only game in town, okay?" Sam didn't reply, and Dean turned, pulling me with him as he walked away brusquely. We moved silently through the first hallway; Dean held his flashlight while I had the letter opener brandished like a weapon. We ducked as we got to the big windows where light from the street casted an eerie glow on the hallway. I crossed to the opposite wall as I saw an office door. Dean followed me without question, sweeping his flashlight around the room. I grabbed another silver letter opener off the desk; they seemed to be standard in this building. I passed it to Dean, who pocketed it while he gazed at something on the ceiling. I followed his eyes to the corner of a panel that was slightly off. My eyes fell on the coat hanger that sat in the front of the room, and I grabbed, using it to push up the ceiling panel.
"What the…" I muttered as I pressed up the panel and a dull thud ensued. I shoved it more only to be met with resistance, making me frown and jiggle the panel. There was a sliding sound, and suddenly Dean yanked me sideways, causing me to drop the coat hanger. A millisecond later the ceiling gave way and a body crashed to the floor. I took a shaky breath before reaching out to pull the body to lie on its back. The throat was slit. "I'm gonna kill this thing," I stalked out the door with Dean following. We made our way back to where Sam was waiting with Ron, and we pulled him to the side. "It's the tall, dark one," I spoke in a low voice to Sam. "We found his body. the throat was cut,"
"You know what, Ronald?" Sam spoke, starting towards him. "He's right. We got to get this man outside," He past Ron, heading straight for the officer. "Come on. I got you," He tried to comfort the man as he helped him out of the vault.
"Yeah, I'll help you," The shifter offered, but Sam shrugged off his help.
"Oh, I got him. It's cool. Thanks," He assured the shifter before helping the officer out of harm's way. Sam gave Dean and I a look as he past us with the grateful guard.
"Hey, can we talk to you for a second?" Dean asked the shifter, who glanced at me distrustingly before scoffing and shrugging.
"You have the gun, man," He held up his hands as he walked forwards us. "Whatever," He was directly in front of us when it happened. One second he was causally walking and the next he slammed his hand into Dean's gut before shoving his head into the wall and pushing me into the opposite one before sprinting off.
"Stop! Come back here!" Dean yelled as I tore after the creature without stopping to think. Suppressed images of St. Louis bubbled to the surface, blocking out all logic. Ron ran in front off me with his gun at the ready and rounded the corner seconds before I did. He stopped running in the middle of the room, pointing his gun at the retreating creature.
"Mel! Get down!" I was halfway to Ron when I saw the red dot on his back and heard Sam's yell. I stopped short, allowing my legs to go limp and falling to the floor just as a bullet whizzed past my head. Ron wasn't so lucky.
"Mel!" I heard Dean's shout, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from where Ron was standing. The bullet went straight through his heart, barely even slowing until it embedded itself into the wall in front of him. He hung there for a moment before dropping to his knees and finally collapsing onto the floor with a dull thud. I stared at Ron's limp form, knowing that if I'd been one second too late, that would be me. "Mel!" I jumped as a hand grabbed my arm, and I whirled to come face to face with Dean, who had crawled to where I was crouching behind a desk. "Are you okay? Did it hit you?"
"I'm fine," I assured him, glancing back at the body and swallowing hard. "Ron's not,"
"Hey," I glanced up as Sam joined us, his eyes raking over me to check for injuries. My breathing slowly grew steadier, and my hands stopped their shaking. "Here," He unwound the rope the key was on from his hand and passed it to Dean. "Take care of the guard. Mel and I will go after the shifter," Sam took off without waiting for a reply, and I made to follow him when Dean pulled me back.
"Be careful," In answer, I pressed my lips to his softly, knowing he'd been almost as scared as me. I pulled away, pressing my forehead against his for a moment.
"You too. I love you," I whispered, kissing him one more time before pulling myself away from the comfort of his lips to run after Sam. Sam and I walked cautiously towards the first door, and he pointed the flashlight at it while I slowly opened the door, clutching the silver letter opener. The room was empty. I sighed, relaxing and turning away from the door only to jerk back at the sight of the bank workers standing behind me.
"Oh! Oh, god! Please don't hurt us!" The woman in front, whose voice I recalled from the vault, begged us, clutching the woman behind her's hand.
"You can't be back here," I admonished them, a worried feeling growing in my stomach as I thought about who else may have disobeyed the order to stay in the vault. "You could get hurt. Go back to the vault," I sighed again, this time in irritation as the people fled back to the way they'd come. "We need to get back to Dean," I reasoned, heading towards the stairwell with Sam following.
"He should have never been here, you know," I didn't need to ask to know Sam was talking about Ron.
"Sam, he was a grown man. He made his own decisions," I objected, hearing him sigh behind me as we began descending the stairs. "He would have made a good hunter," I reflected briefly. Sam grabbed my arm, stopping my descent.
"Look," I followed his finger to the skin colored blob that lay on the stairs. I snapped open my phone and pressed 1, hearing it ring as I crouched by the goo.
Yeah? Dean answered, and I let out a breath of relief that he was alright.
"He slipped his skin again," I informed him.
What? Dean sounded as annoyed as I felt right now.
"Yeah. The thing shifts a lot faster than the one in St. Louis," I told him as Sam picked up some of the goo on his opener before shaking the thing to rid it of the skin.
God, it's like playing a shell game. It could be anybody again. He complained, clearly exasperated.
"I think most of the employees are probably out of the vault," I added to our long list of things to worry about. This hunt was a mess.
Alright. You and Sam search every inch of this place. I'm gonna go round everybody up. I snapped the phone shut, straightening and turning to Sam.
-3rd Person-
Dean managed to round up what he thought were the last of the people who'd escaped the vault. His mind was on Sam and Mel, who he was constantly worrying about. The last time they'd split up and a shifter was involved, all three ended up captured and almost dead.
"And I thought you were one of the good guys," His focus was snapped into the present when a young woman spoke to him from where she was standing in front of the rest.
"What's your name?" He asked her, suddenly wanting someone to feel hopeful about surviving this. He didn't.
"Why do you care?" She returned his question with a biting retort.
"My name's Dean," He told her honestly.
"Sheri," She responded after a moment of surprised thought.
"Everything's going to be all right," He promised, praying his words were true. "This will all be over soon, okay?" He backed out of the vault, shutting the door behind him. No sooner had he done that then the phone began to ring. After a moment's hesitation, he placed Ron's gun on a nearby table and picked up the phone.
"Yeah," He answered.
This is special agent Victor Hendrickson. The man on the other line sounded brusque and curt.
"Yeah, listen, I'm not really in a negotiating mood right now," Dean spoke in a unconcerned tone.
Good. Me neither. The man interrupted him rudely. It's my job to bring you in - alive's a bonus but not necessary.
"Woah. That's harsh for a federal agent, don't you think?" Dean was taken aback by the man's attitude and tone.
Well, you're not the typical suspect, are you, Dean? Dean's eyes widened at the use of his name. Who the hell was on the other line? I want you, Sam, and Melody out here unarmed, or we come in, and, yes, I know about Melody - Bonnie to your Clyde. Dean couldn't help the faint smile from gracing his lips at the analogy.
"Yeah, well, that part's true, but how'd you even know we were here?" He questioned, looking around for cameras.
Go screw yourself. That's how I knew. Dean's eyes widened slightly at the man's churlish nature. It's become my job to know about you, Dean. I've been looking for you for weeks now. I know about the murder in St. Louis. I know about the Houdini act you pulled in Baltimore. I know about the desecrations and the thefts. I know about your dad.
"You don't know crap about my dad," Dean finally managed to speak around the lump that was forming in his throat.
I know he took Melody in at a young age. Practically adopted her. He was ex-marine, raised his kids on the road, cheap motels, backwood cabins - real paramilitary survivalist type. Agent Hendrickson described his dad perfectly. I just can't get a handle on what type of wacko he was - white supremist, Timmy McVeigh, tomato, tomahto.
"You got no right talking bout my dad like that. He was a hero," Dean defended his dad, hating the flippant way Agent Hendrickson was describing him.
Yeah, right. Sure sounds like it. He spoke sarcastically, making Dean's blood boil in anger. You have one hour to make a decision, or we come through those doors full automatic. There was the click of the receiver, and Dean squeezed his eyes shut, slamming the phone down on the receiver. He needed to find Mel and Sam.
-1st Person-
I walked quietly behind Sam as he paused before jerking open the door quickly, expecting something to come leaping out at him. Nothing happened. We entered the room stealthily, Sam shining his flashlight in every direction before continuing along.
"Hey," I whispered, pointing to the blood on the ground in front of one of the doors in the room. We approached it cautiously before pulling it open and jumping out of the way of the falling body.
"Damn it," Sam hissed angrily while I let out a furious breath, silently vowing that I wouldn't let this thing kill anymore people. Sam shined the light on her face, allowing me to see the woman we'd told to go back to the vault earlier. "Dean?"
"Yeah," I agreed, and we quickly walked back down the stairs to Dean, who was standing with his gun on the table by the landline. "Hey," At my greeting, his head shot up and his eyes fixed on me with a look that let me know something was wrong.
"Hey," He greeted, picking up the gun. "We got a bit of a problem outside,"
"Yeah? Well, we've got a bit of a problem in here, too," I told him, trying to stem the flood of doubtful thoughts trying to consume my mind. He opened the vault door to reveal most of the remaining people.
"Sheri?" Sam called to the shifter.
"We're gonna let you go," Dean took over before Sam could say anything else.
"What? Why me?" She questioned, glancing at the gun in Dean's hand distrustingly.
"As a show of good faith to the feds. Come on," Sheri took a small step back, narrowing her eyes at us before shaking her head.
"Uh… I think I'd rather stay here with the others," Dean stepped fully into the room as she took another step back.
"I'm afraid I'm going to have to insist," Her eyes dropped to the opener in Sam's hands that gleamed in the pale light, and she swallowed hard, her eyes shining with fear. I frowned. The shifter's eyes shouldn't be shining in fear, but I shrugged off the thought. We'd seen the body. We led her to the room with the real Sheri's body, and she looked around in confusion. "I thought you were letting me go," She whimpered as Dean grabbed her, forcing her to stare at the corpse. She freaked. "Oh, God!" She scrambled backwards, trying desperately to get away from the body and screaming all the while.
"What is that? Community theater? Or are you just naturally that good?" Dean asked her as Sam grabbed her by the hair, and I held up the knife, ready to kill the creature.
"This is the last person you kill," I told her darkly, raising the knife.
"No! Oh, god!" She then proceeded to collapse into a motionless heap on the floor. I frowned at her limp body before glancing back at the corpse. Dean leaned the gun on the desk, kneeling down besides the shifter and raising the knife to finish her. I put my hand on his wrist lightly to stop the knife's descent. He froze under my touch, looking up at me questioningly.
"There's no advantage to this plan," I reasoned, glancing back at the corpse. "Faint now and let you kill it? How does that help?" I walked over to the corpse, crouching beside it and narrowing my eyes. Suddenly, there was a massive crash, making my head snap up. I only had a moment to debate what the noise was before I was distracted by the 'corpse''s hand around my neck. I slammed my fist into the shifter's nose, making it grunt in pain. Faintly, I heard Sheri yell in terror. "Get her out!" I snapped, managing to break the creature's grip on my throat. She kneed me in the stomach, sending me flying into Dean. I gasped, trying to regain the breath she'd knocked out of me. Dean helped me up, and we ran after the creature. We walked into what must've been the boiler room and heard a quiet click from the opposite door. I pulled Dean behind a wall as I heard footsteps approaching the room. We pressed ourselves behind a section of the wall that jutted out from the rest, praying the cops wouldn't think to look there.
Dean and I continued on silently, opening doors and looking in every place we could think of for the shifter to be hiding. I heard a creak to my right and spun quickly, earning myself a fist in the face that sent me to the floor. When I looked up, Dean was headbutted the thing twice, making it reel backwards. I scrambled to my feet just as the shifter caught Dean's wrist. Dean took a chunk of her arm off with his hand, making a face at it.
"Gross," His face scrunched disgustedly as he spoke the word. The shifter used his distraction to her advantage and slammed her foot into his groin, making him grunt heavily before she slammed his face into her knee. I grabbed her shoulders and hauled her backwards with all of my strength, sending her sprawling. She leapt up, but I was ready for her this time. I ducked the first blow and caught the second, twisting her arm and spinning her around before pinning her to the wall. She flipped over to face me just in time for me to plunge the silver opener into her heart, causing her to gasp and choke before sliding to the floor.
"You okay?" I questioned Dean, who came to crouch stand beside me. He nodded breathlessly without speaking. Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind us, making us both spin. Dean took a slight step in front of me as we both put our hands up in surrender. Instead of shooting us or handcuffing us, the S.W.A.T. agent threw two sets of uniforms at our feet.
"Get changed," Sam's voice sent waves of relief coursing through my body, and I slid the uniform over my clothes quickly. The three of us made our way through the halls of the bank safely without anyone questioning our motives. None of us spoke as we threw our guns in the backseat, and Sam slid in next to them while I sat in the passenger's seat, ripping off the helmet and pulling the mask up so it only covered the top of my head.
"Shit," It was the only word that summed up the entire night.
"We are so screwed," Dean muttered, adding on to my summary. Dean drove away from the bank as the events of the night replayed on a loop in my mind. The police knew who I was. They knew my face. I glanced at Dean and then in the rearview at Sam. We were lucky this time. Next time we might not be.