The next morning,
Hightop Motel,
Little Rock, ARKANSAS.
Dean's eyes strained open. He ran his tongue around his mouth as his hand reached up and massaged his brow. He squinted into the bright mid-morning light and grunted as he cleared his throat and eased himself up onto one elbow. The night's storm had abated and the sun now had dominance in the sky, streaming through the opened drapes at the windows.
Sam glanced at him, from down turned eyes, cautiously and secretly, observing him. He watched as Dean scowled with the odd, foul, day-after taste of alcohol in his mouth and fought the lingering drowsiness. Dean continued to blink into the intense sunlight.
Sam resumed tapping away at his laptop, with a determined frown on his brow. Bobby was engrossed in cleaning his weapons. He gave Dean a brief glance over the top of the now gleaming Colt.
"Good morning." Bobby cast him a tentative greeting. At least when Dean slept he was the same old Dean Winchester, and it was easy for the weathered old hunter to forgive him his tirade of the night before.
"Good, my ass!" Dean frowned angrily.
'So much for the old Dean' Bobby sighed to himself, wondering how, in the world, he had let Sam talk him into staying.
"Any chance you could quit being such an asshole today?" Sam retorted without so much as taking his eyes of his laptop. "Cause if you're gonna start up with all your shit again, so help me, I'll…"
"You'll what?" Dean snapped back angrily as he frowned at Sam with an intense resentment. Sam glared back at Dean this time, with 'serious' written all over his face. He maintained his fierce look with a steadfast determination. Eventually Dean smirked slightly: Sam wasn't about to give in.
"Fine." Dean surrendered, running his hand through his 'bed-hair'. "What's that?" He queried as he staggered to his feet. He was clad in little more than his bandages, and the last, lingering vestiges of his bruises and grazes, wearing nothing but his boxers. Sam tried unsuccessfully to look away, amazed at how well Dean's wounds had healed. He found it hard to suppress a smirk when he locked eyes with his irritated brother, however Dean glared back at Sam's audacity with eyes blazing green with ire.
"Some stuff goin' on around here…" Sam replied glancing away, a little more somber as he contemplated the possible job. After his discussions with Bobby, the previous night, it hadn't taken Sam long to find something, their kind of unusual, to spark his interest. In fact, signs had been staring them all in the face since they'd arrived at Little Rock. Aside from accessing the Internet, Sam had a number of local newspapers strewn across the table. "Demon kinda stuff."
"Demon?" Dean queried Sam, his face dropped into a scowl and he seemed openly nervous. His cautious gaze flicked from Sam to Bobby and back, in agitated suspicion. Bobby paused as he checked the chamber of the Colt, to gaze at the anxious hunter. Dean noticeably startled at the soft click as Bobby snapped the pistol back into configuration.
"Yeah… I think there's a demon here… right now!" Sam stated bluntly as he bore a determined gaze at Dean, looking to assess his readiness for a job.
"Oh." Dean gulped anxiously, his muscles tensed noticeably and he stepped back towards the wall, his eyes fixed on Bobby, and the demon killing weapon in his hands.
Both Sam and Bobby noticed the look of trepidation flash across Dean's face. Sam glanced up at Bobby with perplexity, concerned by the elder Winchester's sudden panic. However Bobby ignored the younger Winchester's inquisition, he was too preoccupied by Dean's terrified glare. Dean's pale expression was anxious and apprehensive and Sam realized his brother was majorly spooked. Bobby feared, maybe, it was too soon: That a hunt wasn't what Dean needed after all. Just maybe he needed the opposite, to get away from the things that went 'bump in the night' altogether…
"Sam's just been messin' about, Dean." Bobby reassured as he put the Colt back into his weapons' duffel. "Ain't probably anything."
"Yeah…" Sam added. "Don't really know just yet."
Dean appeared to calm. He retrieved a pair of jeans from his bag and pulled them on before hobbling hesitantly across the room to Sam's side. "What demon?" He asked, swallowing nervously, easing himself into a chair by Sam's side, with a clear look of apprehension.
Sam glanced at Bobby for an indication on how to proceed. The seasoned hunter was just as baffled as Sam as to what to do. Eventually Bobby raised his eyebrow and nodded for Sam to reveal the possible gig to him.
"Well I'm not 100 percent it's actually a demon, yet." Sam muttered cautiously. "There have been a few strange deaths…"
Dean leaned forward, focused on Sam's laptop, as he took in the information. He seemed fascinated by the facts splashed across the screen. The news report, titled 'The Torch claims another victim', although a couple of days old, spoke about the death of a young man, the third victim in similar circumstances. The man, in his early twenties had, like the previous two, been burned to death. The bodies had all been found in unoccupied warehouses, in the south side of the city, in the mostly abandoned suburb of Drawly.
"What makes you…?" Dean began to query, when Sam cut him short.
"Yeah, I know, could just be a psycho, serial killer… police are, of course, stumped." Sam pre-empted Dean's usual cynicism.
"But you think it's a demon?" Dean's eyebrows arched in utter disbelief.
"Pretty sure." Sam shrugged his shoulders imploring confidence in his assumptions. "There was also that flock of pigeons that dropped outta the sky a week ago… stone, cold dead! And that freakish electrical storm just last night... plus there's some Internet gossip that mentions some possibly satanically-linked symbols at the crime scene. So I'm pretty sure it's some type of our kinda freaky…"
"This is seriously how you track down demons?" Dean queried.
"Dude…" Sam beseeched. "We've looked into less."
"Could there be any less?" Dean demanded.
Sam gave a convincing injured look. "Well… I thought I might go check things out. I've got the address of where they found the last body." Sam said, hoping Dean would want to come along of his own will. Sam figured he should at least be well enough for a bit of investigating… "You up for it?"
"If it gets us outta this room…" Dean replied. "This I gotta see."
oooOOOooo
The abandoned warehouse mimicked a number in the area. The entire industrial estate had long since passed its 'use by date'. Many warehouses and factories were in disrepair; their only value lay in the land prices in the area. And judging by the number of vacant buildings, with real estate 'For Sale' or 'For Lease' signs plastered in front, it wasn't an area that was all that high in demand.
Their trip over had been in near silence. Dean hadn't even objected to Sam's choice of radio stations. Instead he seemed intrigued by Sam's driving skills, absorbing every move Sam made with a studious gaze. It unnerved Sam a little, to have Dean examine his driving abilities with such intensity, but then Dean had never been comfortable unless he was in the driver's seat. Sam suspected Dean's wounds were paining him more than he had let on, because usually the only injury that prevented Dean from driving was complete unconsciousness!
Sam parked the Impala in a side street, away from any curious eyes, although he doubted, aside from the rodent population and dozens of stray cats in the area, nobody ventured that way very often. Aside from the startled Realtor, that was, whose task it had been to try and offload the building to some unsuspecting schmuck of course, and was instead greeted by the gory murder scene. Sam speculated that finding a potential buyer, now, might take a lot longer than they had anticipated.
The warehouse was gloomy, what with all the windows blackened over with years of grime and pollution. The depot was vacant, and devoid of any furniture or equipment, or the like. The Winchesters made their way from office to office in search of the crime scene. As they passed through a corridor, Sam paused. He reached down and ran his fingers through a heavy coating of dust upon the tiled floor. He rubbed the grimy grey-ochre substance between his fingers and eventually lifted his fingers to his nose and smelt it.
"What is it?" Dean began to question. Sam's eyes darted to Dean with surprise.
"Sulfur… what else?" He glared at him. What did he expect? Sam wondered.
"So… demon then?" Dean queried.
"Well… yeah." He replied. Again with the stupid question? Sam frowned to himself as he wondered if Dean was really up for this! Obviously it was a demon! He had to remind himself that his brother was still on the mend…
Sam moved forwards, towards a door he hoped led to the crime scene.
The door revealed what was once a factory floor of sorts. It was as bare as the rest of the building, the only evidence of the factory ever having been used were the huge bolts protruding from the concrete floor where machinery had once been fixed. Dean made his way into the center of the vast empty room. Glaringly bright, yellow police tape, secured to a group of concrete support pylons, running in three rows down the center of the vast expanse, marked the spot better than any 'X' could have.
One of the concrete support pylons had been scorched black by an intense fire. A stark, untouched silhouette of the victim remained splayed against the column, as a shadowy reminder of the victim's final seconds of life. An intricate symbol was drawn just in front of that again on the concrete floor.
"And, I think that pretty much confirms my suspicions…" Sam muttered as he studied the sigil painted across the floor, in what was most likely blood. "I'd say it's a demon!" He muttered as he examined the unfamiliar demonic trademark. "Or some weird-assed Satanic cult…"
Dean ran his hand over the pylon, almost mesmerized by the hazy silhouette. He studied the sallow dust that now coated his fingers. More sulfur, only much heavier this time, covering the pylon itself, right where the victim would have sat. Even the dried blood on the floor beneath was intermingled with the yellow dust.
"Yeah…" Dean agreed, his voice echoing through the room, although he showed no great interest in examining the sigil, up close, for himself. He eyed the vast, cold and damp room suspiciously.
"Can't say as I recognize it." Sam remarked as he tilted his head in examination of the gory signature with an intense scowl on his brow. "I don't even know if the sigil's legit!" Sam added. "Maybe you should get a photo of it, so we can check out if it's valid."
"A what?" Dean replied, dumbfounded.
"A photo… on your cell." Sam replied. He glanced at Dean and picked up on the fact that the elder Winchester seemed edgy. "Here, give me your phone." He prompted as he strode towards his tentative brother. "I'll do it."
Dean searched his pockets until he found his cell phone and then passed it to Sam.
"I really gotta get another phone." Sam muttered to himself as he skirted the large sigil. He took a number of photos of the scorched pylon, the sigil and the large pool of blood. Dean observed him with an inquisitive gaze.
oooOOOooo
Sam explained their findings to Bobby after dinner that night. Bobby frowned as he studied the photos of the sigil on Dean's phone with equal ignorance.
"Sorry Sam, can't say as I have any idea..." Bobby admitted, although the phone's mediocre resolution and picture quality, the gloomy warehouse and the angle of the shot didn't make for an easy identification.
"You think maybe it's just a hoax, maybe it really is some psycho, satanic killer?" Sam sighed.
"I thought you said you found sulfur as well." Bobby replied.
"Yeah, we did." Sam admitted. "I guess we'd better check it out then."
"Hasn't exactly left any clues at to where he's gone though." Dean remarked.
"No…" Sam sighed. "And he doesn't apparently make any encore visits either. At least not to the scene of the crime… But, he seems to keep within the old warehouse district, in Drawly. Could be where he's hiding out. We could probably start searching each building…"
"Whoa… Just slow down." Bobby warned. "First we really gotta get a handle on just what this demon is." Bobby warned. "We've at least got this sigil to investigate. I think we've all learnt the hard way what happens when we jump in half cocked!" He glared at the brothers with an upturned eyebrow, in a blatantly accusing manner.
Sam cowered slightly and nodded with acknowledgement. They'd suffered, quite literally, on numerous occasions when they'd been caught unawares and unprepared. Sam glanced at Dean; usually the first one in the line of fire, he'd certainly suffered for their ignorance, and he was no where near 100 percent yet, certainly not up to battling another demon.
"I'm thinking we'll have to hit the library then." Sam smirked.
"The what?" Dean piped up, not looking overly enthusiastic. He'd stayed almost completely out of their discussions; however, as he had become accustomed to doing lately, he had listened intently to every word.
oooOOOooo
"I'm gonna head out and get something to eat…" Dean grumbled after glaring at the enthusiastic research buffs do their stuff. They'd been at the library for over three hours, and even though closing time was drawing near, he'd become extremely impatient. Sam wasn't quite sure why Dean had decided to go with them; he certainly hadn't opened a book, or switched on a computer. He'd amused himself for a while when a group of three young women had piled in for what ever reason, however their stay was short lived and so was his entertainment. Dean may have studied Sam's every move, every book and every web site, over his shoulder, however he had yet to make any constructive move to assist in the research.
"This'd go a lot faster if you'd give us a hand!" Sam snapped at him with irritation.
"I got a fair idea already." Dean sniggered at Sam with a level, unwavering glower of smugness. "You ain't gonna find the answer in a book! This demon's thousands of years old. You're just wasting time…"
Sam glared at him as he wondered if Dean's arrogant, asshole alter ego was making another appearance. He wasn't quite himself yet, hadn't been since he'd survived the Crossroad Demon's deal. He was still very much Hr. Hyde, although Dean had managed, for the most part to keep his egotistical, short-tempered, new-self under check. However, he had his moments when his snide, condescending remarks and egotistical, haughty attitude would needle itself under Sam's skin like a malicious, flesh-eating parasite. And with the wicked glimmer in Dean's conceited, confident smirk, Sam could feel another infestation moment coming.
"What?" Sam demanded angrily.
Bobby could feel the thick, choking haze of irritation descend upon them. He knew he had to intercede quickly, if he didn't, he'd end up the sacrificial lamb in the middle of their head clashing. It was far better if he jumped in, head first, as arbitrator.
"Honestly Sam, Dean might be right." Bobby sighed. Not that he wanted to intentionally side with Dean, in fact, if he could find grounds for it, he'd obstinately object Dean's point 'til the cows came home. But, Dean was indisputably right. Bobby had found dozens of demons and sigils that almost fit the bill, and yet no one was a definite contender. In reality he'd found nothing! "You actually find anything yet?" He queried Sam.
Sam was still on the verge of fuming. He begrudgingly shook his head. "No, not really." He refused to gaze at his brother.
"Dean?" Bobby queried, eager to hear what he may have to say.
"It's old…" Dean replied. "Pre-dates Christ even… used to like to… play… in Jordan, Egypt, Palestine…"
"Huh? Palestine?" Sam grunted.
"Palestine… it's now Israel…" Dean clarified, smirking condescendingly.
"Yeah, I know." Sam grunted back. "Birthplace of Christ."
"Only he's Pre-Christ! It's the Sigil of Devorel." He stated. "Or, more precisely, Devoratus."
"Who?" Sam's eyes flashed at Dean in query. "Who's De-vor-atus?" He snarked with disbelieving irritation. He could hardly swallow Dean's haughty proclamation as fact, not when he hadn't even glanced at a book or a computer…
Sam's fingers tapped away furiously on his laptop, searching for the names Dean had mentioned. He tried a number of spelling variations until he finally found a combination that provided a link. His face revealed his shock at finding a brief reference made to a demon venerated as Devoratus, on an obscure web site Sam had never seen before. Even more confounding, was that a photo of his sigil bore a startling resemblance to the one found at the warehouse.
"Yeah… ok. It could be this... Devoratus." He conceded, still not sure if he could trust the information given on the unproven, unsubstantiated web site. As far as Sam was concerned the site read more like a wannabe demonic 'My Space' than anything resembling authentic facts. Even so, he could see how Dean could be duped by the site, if this was in fact where he had gleaned his information from.
"What does it say?" Bobby urged Sam.
"Honestly, I think its all B.S.!" Sam objected. "It's gotta be some kind of hoax..."
"I'd still be interested in what it says." Bobby urged. "Better'n the nothin' we already got!"
"Fine..." Sam begrudgingly read the small amount of information mentioned on the obscure web site. "He's a Demon of Domination and Fire, a Duke of Devils; Also known as Devorel, or The Devourer. He can conjure and control the very fires of Hell. He feeds on his own kind. Seriously Bobby, it has a freaking post script here - Devoratus's motto or something! 'Daemon cavere meus ignis' I mean 'Demons beware my fire'?" Sam demanded.
"That sigil sure looks real enough!" Bobby pointed at the grainy, black and white photo displayed with the information. "Got anything on that?"
The only reference made to the photograph was the name 'Iactar'. When Sam searched the reference he found it was an ancient Jordanian city, the ruins of which had recently been uncovered. As he scrolled through the site he came across a much clearer photo of the sigil.
"Evidentially this sigil was found at an archaeological dig, a few years ago, in Iactar; it's the ruins of some long buried city in Jordan." Sam revealed. "It doesn't mention Devoratus at all though. Just that the sigil was found carved into the floor, at the base of a huge marble statue, of what looks like..." Sam paused and studied the photograph, "... a demon devouring a devil. It's believed it was a sacrificial chamber of some sort… what with the discovery of hundreds of human remains, all cremated, in the adjoining chamber... But then, the whole city is presumed to have been leveled by fire... leading some to speculate it could even be the site of Sodom or Gomorrah... Anyway, the whole place was incinerated, abandoned and buried by the desert thousands of years ago. Probably why the details are a bit sketchy… or nonexistent!" He added in his own defense.
"Wow, well that seems real enough." Bobby mused, referring to the archaeological web site.
"Yeah, so the sigil is legit, doesn't mean Devoratus is." Sam challenged.
"Oh, he's real. Actually, I think you'll find he's a power-hungry, devious 'soul digger'." Dean leaned back in his chair and smirked with confident smugness.
"A soul-digger?" Bobby queried.
"Hell's currency." Dean scowled. "And… Devoratus is probably exterminating his competition, now he's Top-side."
"And you even know this, how?" Sam demanded.
Dean was momentarily stunned into silence. He was obviously in thought for an appropriate response. "He's a fire demon Sam…" He eventually explained.
Sam's tense shoulders relaxed and his face softened, slightly. Of course he'd know; he'd know everything there was to know about every conceivable Fire Demon! With their life long search for Azazel; the demon who had killed their mother, with fire, it was only logical Dean would have scoured every remote link. For they did not learn Azazel's identity until after Dean had killed him. Fire was the one thing they knew he used, quite effectively, to execute his desires.
"Oh…" Sam backed down marginally: Too stunned by Dean's astute observations to consider a rebuttal or a dispute.
"Exactly, Samuel." Dean replied as he stood up, preparing to leave.
"Ok, but wait… Just where are you getting this info from?" Sam challenged the whole fanciful notion again. There was hardly enough information on the Internet to glean such an in-depth assumption.
Dean paused before replying, either as he contemplated a response or simply for effect.
"I have been doing this for a while, Samuel." Dean snapped back. He had taken to referring to Sam as Samuel every time he became irritated. And it served as a perfect shove for Sam in the same emotional direction. "I have my sources…"
"Yeah, but…" Sam wasn't given the opportunity to continue.
"Sam." Bobby interceded. "Dean seems to be pretty spot on so far. Let him finish." Bobby nodded to Dean, urging him to continue. "Just what exactly do you mean he's exterminating his competition?"
"Other demons." Dean replied. "It's what he does. This way he gets two birds… A human soul, and a demon to devour, not to mention the race is on to seize the crown now that Azazel is… well dead. And trust me Devoratus doesn't like to bow to any demon. He wants the title!"
"He's devouring demons?" Sam was still skeptical, trying to process the information.
"I think you'll find all the victims were possessed." Dean replied as he grabbed his jacket from the back of his seat and turned away. "And their hearts would have been cut out."
"So if you already knew this, why didn't you just say so?" Sam demanded angrily, even he had better things to do with his time than sitting in a stuffy library with his nose buried in a pile of dusty books!
"Just wanted to see if you could work it out for yourself…" Dean muttered. "Which you obviously couldn't…" He swaggered away with a triumphant smirk plastered to his face.
Sam suddenly became aware that Dean had spent a lot of time lately, studying him, sizing him up and assessing his assumptions. And at other times it was almost as if Dean was trying to teach him the finer points… It worried Sam that maybe Dean was still in the mind set that he was going to leave him.
"If he's exterminating demons maybe we should just let him at it?" Sam muttered.
"It'd be nice, but we gotta remember the real victims are all human." Bobby replied.
"Yeah, of course." Sam nodded.
Sam and Bobby had to hastily pack their research and belongings up in order to catch him before he disappeared into the busy main street. Sam was too rushed to allow his irritation to fester, and too dumbstruck by Dean's insightfulness to really allow it to take hold. They had larger, purely demonic problems on their hands…
oooOOOooo
The night brought another fierce storm. When Sam returned from his reconnaissance task, a chilly wind fought its way into the room before he could fight to close their motel room door behind him. Little Rock was being ravaged by severe electrical storms once more.
"Ok, I got the reports." Sam informed them as he shook his soggy mane and patted the rain from his suit sleeves. "Thankfully the graveyard shift has a way of employing the half-wits."
Bobby eagerly grabbed the slightly damp file of papers from Sam's grasp and laid them out on the small dining table in their room. Dean leaned forward and ran his eye over the coroner's reports, and numerous crime scene photos.
"So, no problems then?" Bobby queried Sam.
"Didn't even have to flash my badge." Sam replied with a prizewinning smile as he removed his suit coat and joined Bobby and Dean at the table. The wanna-be coroner at the morgue had been extremely gullible and more than helpful.
"I think you're right Dean." Bobby complimented as he read the coroner's reports on the first victim, Sandeep Kalill, an eighteen year old apprenticed mechanic. "Unusually high, and unexplained, sulfur levels in his system. Same with victim number two, Dianna Papolous, just twenty…"
"That's not the only thing in common." Sam added as he studied the crime scene photos. "Same sigil."
"Wow…" Bobby sighed as he ran his hand over his stubbled chin in dismay. "So this is the last one… at the warehouse you looked at… Ayden Keller… and same thing… high levels of sulfur present in the system. Definitely sounds like a possession."
Bobby examined the photo Sam passed to him. "It's all the same sigil." Sam explained as Bobby scrutinized the image. The charred remains of Ayden Keller lay sprawled in the center of the sigil. "In what? You think it might be blood?"
"Yeah, according to this report it was Keller's own blood." Bobby replied.
"Yeah?" Sam muttered. "But why is he cutting their hearts out, and then cremating them?" He queried Dean, the apparent expert.
"I think you'll find his sigil traps the demon within, so that he can cut out the heart… during cremation, before the victim dies." Dean clarified.
"What?" Sam exclaimed in awe.
Bobby hesitated to concur, before he could read the coroner's report. "Coroner seems to think the same thing. The hearts were cut out whilst the victim was still alive."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked. "Why?"
"It's how he collects his souls." Dean replied.
"The souls?" Sam queried. "And their hearts?"
"You never hear the expression 'heart and soul'?" Dean shrugged. "He probably eats it, to devour the soul totally."
"What?" Sam exclaimed with a clear look of revulsion.
"And the cremation?" Bobby queried, more than a little put off by the thought of the demon eating a human heart.
"It's how he consumes the demon within…" Dean replied. "He has to burn everything else away, with the fires of Hell, to reach the demon soul beneath… pretty much simultaneously… before either demon or human soul can escape."
"So he's collecting souls?" Sam queried again, his doubt plain to see.
"It's what he does Samuel… even you said so… Devoratus consumes his own kind!" Dean was becoming irritated. "And when did you ever meet a demon that didn't want to lay its hands on some quality human souls?"
"And just where, the hell, did you dig up this information?" Sam demanded again, as his disbelief escalated.
Dean glared at his cynical brother with measured animosity. Sam remained defiantly dubious. "Look, you have your sources, I have mine!" He snapped angrily as he left the table and grabbed himself a beer out of the fridge. "What's wrong? You have the proof in front of you, and you still don't believe me?"
"Yeah well, Dean, you never…" Sam began to retaliate; however Bobby caught his arm and urged him to cease fire.
Dean didn't grace Sam with a rebuttal. He simply planted himself on the couch and switched the television on; quickly flicking it through a number of channels.
Sam had to concede submission, although, he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy with Dean's sudden knowledge. How much more half-cocked could they get if they had this theory all wrong?
oooOOOooo
Ayden Keller's Parent's Home.
Little Rock, ARKANSAS.
Bobby was cautious about pushing Dean too hard. So against Dean's insistence that he was perfectly ok, Bobby had Sam draw out their investigations over a few days. Sam was still speculative over the information Dean had given, and secretly he wanted time to double check his conclusions. Not that he found anything else, to either dispute or support Dean's information. However when he informed Bobby he was heading out to question Ayden Keller's parents, Dean insisted on going too.
The low, gravelly rumble of the Impala turned more than just a few heads. With the suburban driveways lined with flashy late model cars, the Chevy was distinctly out of place.
"Keep you eyes peeled for number 52." Sam urged as they drove down the narrow street towards Ayden Keller's parents' house, listed as his next of kin.
"There…" Dean replied as they slowed down in front of a quaint red-brick, double story house. Peace returned to the street once Sam cut the engine, however eyes remained fixed on the sleek black silhouette of the Impala.
Dean's gaze turned to puzzlement as Sam reached across him and popped the glove compartment open. He pulled out a small cigar box from its depths and rummaged through the cards and wallets within. After a careful search he smiled contently as he passed Dean a black leather I.D. wallet. Dean flipped it open and studied the contents.
"Agent Book?" Dean queried. "What's this?" He asked as he turned the FBI badge around in his grasp.
"Your I.D. Dean…" Sam quaffed. "You don't expect them to talk to us otherwise, do you?" Sam speculated that he was dragging Dean into something he really wasn't ready for. "Are you sure you're up for this?"
"Yeah… why shouldn't I be?" Dean seemed confused to say the least. His scowling green eyes revealed his bewilderment as his gaze practically bore a hole through the badge.
"Seriously, if you'd rather wait in the car…" Sam offered.
"What?" Dean's stare moved to Sam. "No." He muttered unconvincingly. Sam had actually dressed him in a suit for the occasion so it would be a pity not to play on.
"Ok… Good. I'm Special Agent Williams… remember?" Sam queried as he got out of the car. It was Dean, after all, who had forged the badges in the first place. However, judging by Dean's blank expression, he didn't seem to recall the details. "Just let me do all the talking then, ok?"
"Ok." Dean replied as he eased himself out of the car. He didn't seem any closer to convincing Sam of his readiness. With yet another loss of recollection, as far as Sam was concerned, Dean had definitely had his memory scrambled! Even so, Sam was still impressed by his, possibly, instinctual ability to assume some kind of persona for the task. As he emerged from the car Dean straightened his tie, ensuring it hung correctly and patted the suit lapels down with a meticulous precision. He actually seemed comfortable in the suit for a change. Dean had already chosen to abandon the cane, along with the sling for his arm; it would have been a pity to detract from the pleasing lines of the well tailored ensemble of the suit. He swaggered towards the house with an almost normal, confident gait.
As the brothers alighted the vehicle curious eyes followed the passage of the two neatly dressed men, both in dark suits and ties, as they walked towards the front door of number 52. It was Ayden Keller's home and all in the street and surrounding neighborhood knew of the man's murder.
An older man answered the door. He peered at the brothers through a mere crack in the door. "What?" He exclaimed bluntly.
"Mr. Keller?" Sam queried.
"What do you want?" He demanded gruffly.
"Sorry to disturb you, I'm Agent Williams; this is my partner Agent Book, FBI." Sam introduced as he flashed his badge. Dean mimicked Sam's deception and proceeded to do the same, however his flip of the wallet sleeve and the revealing of his badge was noticeably stilted and awkward.
"FBI?" Mr. Keller exclaimed with a tentative smile. "You find who killed my boy?" He queried with a vengeful hope.
"No, Mr. Keller, I'm sorry, we haven't." Sam stammered. "We've just come to ask you a few questions…"
"What?" Peter Keller queried defensively. "Again? Why? What else can we possibly tell you?" He wasn't apparently in the mood for any more questions. He wanted answers. "Didn't those other two ask enough?"
Peter Keller glared at the two young men at his door, and scrutinized them intensely, taking note of Dean's slightly hunched stance and the still visible gash across his brow. Something about Dean's appearance unnerved the man and he maintained his speculative glare. The other, Williams, seemed so young and fresh faced: As far as Peter Keller was concerned his son's murder had suddenly been left to a rookie and damaged goods. The FBI certainly didn't seem to be taking things seriously any more. He could only ponder that the other, more seasoned agents, who had already questioned him, had seemed so much more professional in their attitude and approach. He wondered what had happened to them.
Sam was momentarily stumped. Of course the FBI had already gotten involved!
"We're here to investigate a possible connection to another case." He replied coolly, having attained his hunter's mojo again. His face remained blank and devoid of any expression. "We've been working a case in Mississippi; a few murders last year..." Sam elaborated, hoping it was enough to entice Mr. Keller, whilst giving him the opportunity to question him further. "We were hoping to find out if there could be a connection."
Peter's attentions returned to Sam. More murders? He suddenly wondered too, if there was any connection, and why the FBI hadn't already investigated it. Maybe he could spare them a few minutes after all, seeing as they had some other, additional knowledge and theories… He had to. He'd do anything to find out who'd so savagely killed his only son.
He nodded tentatively as he opened the door for them to enter. Mrs. Keller stood some feet behind him, half way up the hall. Judging by her hap-hazard appearance she was in total devastation at the loss of their son.
"What, more suits?" A younger woman demanded from the top of the stairs.
"They're just here to ask a few more questions, Monie." Peter replied as he motioned to the Winchesters to enter the front sitting room.
"You got his shoe size, favorite food and damned blood type already, what more can you possibly need to know?" She demanded.
"Simone!" Mrs. Keller snapped hoarsely. "Please, this is so, so hard as it is, please, behave yourself."
"We were just wondering if you could shed some light on Ayden's movements recently." Sam began once they were seated; fishing for their kind of evidence was always precariously difficult. They were already reasonably confident Ayden had been possessed, what they really needed to know was how, or where and when he may have come in contact with Devoratus.
"They'd be the same movements we already told your mob, would they?" Peter snapped angrily.
"Well, yes." Sam admitted. "I'd like to hear it from you, and have the opportunity to perhaps delve into it further." He justified.
"Oh…" Mr. Keller seemed appeased. "Like Joan and I said already, we really hadn't seen much of him: He's been studying a lot… Ayden was studying Modern Literature over at John Grand's. When he wasn't studying, he and… Elise had been seeing a fair bit of each other." His face gave a disapproving scowl at the girl's mention.
"I'd say!" Simone spat out.
Simone fit the pissed off, rebellious teenager image to a T. Obviously a natural blond, she had dyed her hair almost jet black. Her clothes were a disheveled Goth-like, street-fashion, and her make-up heavy and bold. The only indication that she had any sorrow for her brother's death was a strained red haze to her eyes, like she'd spent hours crying. Most probably in secret, Sam presumed.
"And Elise is?" Sam probed.
"Elise is… was… Ayden's girlfriend." Joan replied, passing him a nearby photo of the couple, in much happier times. Elise was a plain, but pleasant looking girl, with neat, light brown hair and hazel eyes. She seemed a little on the shy side if her timid smile and down-cast eyes were any reflection.
"The heartless slut!" Simone declared.
Sam was snapped out of his observations. "Huh?"
"Monie!" Joan snapped abruptly, noticeably embarrassed. "Now's not the time." She leaned towards Sam and whispered softly to him. "Simone and Elise have had a few issues lately."
Sam let the comment slide, for the time being. However several questions and answers later, the Winchester brothers had ascertained no further information, to that which they had already gleaned from the coroner's reports, newspaper articles and Internet gossip. Drawing information out of Ayden's cocooned parents was about as successful as pulling teeth from a duck. If they suspected anything was up with their son, they gave him no indications.
"So…" Mr. Keller queried hesitantly when Sam's line of questions had dried up. "Is it the same?"
"The same?" Sam queried briefly.
"As the murders… in Mississippi?" He clarified.
"In Mississippi?" Sam faltered. "Oh… maybe… Similar, but I'm not sure just yet." Sam couldn't bring himself to get their hopes up. "We still have a lot of ground work to cover."
Peter and Joan's faces dropped. They needed just the smallest tendrils of hope that their son's murder would be avenged…
"I promise we'll do everything in our power to find who did this." He consoled.
Shortly there after, the Winchesters thanked the Kellers for their assistance, although they came away none the wiser as to how to find Devoratus. Sam asked Simone to see them out.
"Is there anything else we should know?" Sam queried her as they were leaving. They paused on the porch, and she gazed out across the street. "About Ayden?"
"I dunno." Simone shrugged her shoulders, as her deep blue eyes scrutinized the timber decking of the porch floor. "He's just… 'was'… just my stupid brother. Stupid dumb-ass got himself killed. What else do you need to know?"
Dean gave a soft 'humph' at her blunt statement. Sam gave him a slight glare, wondering if the same thoughts had passed through Dean's mind after Jake had wielded him a fatal knife stab, so long ago at Cold Oak.
Dean glared at the girl, scrutinizing her with such concentration Sam could have sworn he was spying right into her soul. She squirmed uncomfortably by Sam's side with the intense examination.
"Give me a second alone with her, would you Dean?" Sam whispered to him. Sam motioned for Dean to return to the Impala, passing him the keys.
Sam and Simone's gaze followed him as he hobbled, only slightly, down the few steps to the garden path.
"Doesn't say much, does he?" Simone reflected quietly.
"No." Sam replied, Dean had been a lot quieter than normal. But at least he wasn't sticking his foot in it, like usual, with some insensitive remark, or obviously stupid question…
"Don't you find it a bit creepy?" She queried.
"What?" Sam pondered her question.
"The way he just stares?" She clarified.
"Oh? Does he?" Sam hadn't taken note of Dean's actions; he'd been too busy scrutinizing the Kellers for answers. He studied Dean momentarily, as he sat impatiently in the car, staring back at them…
Sam's gaze eventually moved to Simone's profile as she leaned on the brick balustrade on her elbows. Her short cropped, badly dyed, black hair hung in limp tendrils about her pale face. She had a number of earrings, including one through her nose and another through her eyebrow and a deep purple wisp of color peeked out from beneath her shirt collar, a tattoo of some sort. There was anger and frustration in the way she pursed her mouth shut, fearful of letting her deepest emotions loose. Sam recognized the look. She was angry at her brother for being dead, for leaving her alone in the world, even though it was, in no way, his fault. Sam understood the sentiment.
Definitely the rebellious sibling.Sam mused to himself. "I take it you and Ayden didn't get along?" He baited.
She shrugged her shoulders again, as she turned to face him. "Naa… He was alright I suppose. Always thought he could run my life though… like he was my bloody keeper!"
Sam smirked to himself, turning slightly so that she could catch his expression of familiarity. Ayden obviously hadn't been as vigilant as Dean was, because Dean would have kicked his ass all the way into Sunday if he'd ever dared to dress all Goth-like, or get tattooed, or pierced…
"I know what you mean." Sam consoled. "I've got an older brother myself."
She smiled briefly in recognition, her defenses lowered slightly. Sam had always had a knack for infiltrating peoples' defenses, gaining their trust with a simple smile and a solemn gaze. She melted to his charm…
"Why would anyone do that to him?" She whispered. "Why?"
"I don't know." Sam replied. "There are some real monsters out there." In that respect he wasn't lying.
She nodded again.
"You know something though, don't you? That might help?" He probed. He figured she was still there with him for a reason; she had only needed to see them to the door. But there was something, Sam sensed, that she was hesitantly compelled to reveal. "About Ayden?"
She gulped nervously, and chewed on her lip before answering. She nodded ever so slightly before she whispered in response. "I think something must have happened, 'cause he wasn't…" She stammered. "He wasn't Ayde anymore. It was like he was a stranger." She admitted.
Sam nodded and thought silently to himself. 'Demon possession will do that to you.'
"When did he change?" Sam queried.
"About a month ago." Simone replied as she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. Her black-lacquered finger nails were chipped and neglected, bitten almost to the bone. Her gaze remained glued to her black, polished army boots. A single tear rolled down her pale cheek and dripped to the floor.
"Do you know what happen?" Sam continued.
She shrugged again, glancing away as she wiped the moisture away. "No… I don't know. He and Elise, they just both changed…"
"Elise too?" Sam probed.
"Yeah!" Simone nodded. "And if anyone's been acting really weird lately, it's her! If you told me that she… that she… did it… I'd probably believe you!"
"You think Elise killed Ayden?" Sam queried eagerly.
"The way she's been acting lately, she could have." Simone sighed, her shoulders dropping in defeat. "But no… She and Ayden were all over each other like a rash! They were so into each other they really were joined at the hips… if ya know what I mean; day and night, any chance they got!" She peered at Sam briefly as she tilted her head slightly and asked, "you do know what I mean, right?"
"Umm, yeah." Sam nodded. "Joined at the hips… and this makes you think she could kill him, why?"
"Look, no, I don't think she could…" Simone admitted, realizing she'd implicated Elise through spite, when she hadn't actually intended to. "She wouldn't kill him… well not the way… whoever did it, was a real sick bastard…"
"So Elise wasn't a sick bastard?" Sam probed with a hint of humor. She smiled briefly at his jibe.
"No…" She admitted, rolling her eyes as if Sam had literally twisted her arm into revealing her secrets. "Maybe a little… But she went weird… really weird. I mean way weirder than Ayde. She used to be such a self confessed, goody-two-shoes, 100 percent prissy… the whole 'no sex before marriage' stuff, didn't drink, didn't do anything! How Ayden could ever dig her, I'll never figure out. But then a few weeks ago, bang! And then more banging, and then some more…"
"Yeah… I got the whole sex bit." Sam replied.
"Try sexual revolution!" Simone scoffed.
"Yeah, ok. But I think you've lost me here." He admitted. "You do, or you don't, think Elise had anything to do with what happened to Ayden?"
"No, I'm sure she didn't…" Simone replied, regretting her earlier insinuation. "It's just that Elise used to be all lovey-dovey, you know, really nice in a reallysickening kinda way. We used to… well we kinda got along… she never judged me, or dissed me. She was always really nice to me… really decent and respectful; even though I'm sure she didn't condone anything about me... A few weeks ago she went all weird. Went all bitch and nasty like; like she had a split personality or somethin'. We didn't see much of them after that, except when mom and dad were out and they, you know… And Ayden sure seemed to dig the new slutty, whore-like Elise."
"But they never mentioned what may have happened?" Sam queried.
"No. I tried to ask Ayden, but he just… he ignored me. She wouldn't talk to me. Not anymore!" Simone spat with animosity. "She snubbed me right off! Even shut mom and dad out… I can't believe they asked her to speak at the funeral!"
"Why?" Sam asked with curiosity.
"Cause of… after what happened to Ayden… she didn't even… not one word… didn't even cry." Simone snarled. "She couldn't care less. I heard she was out at Maxi's, of all places, a couple of nights ago, sleazing on any bloke she could get her hands on."
"So you don't know what happened a few weeks ago?" Sam probed. "To make them change?"
She shook her head. "Who knows? It was like they had flipped a switch … They went out to 'La Spot Café' like they used to do most Saturday nights; you know, to chat and talk and… chat I suppose, cause they never did anything else. Only… something must have happened, they musta got themselves into some kinda shit!" Simone replied.
"Shit?" Sam queried.
"Look, I really don't know what, but don't get me wrong… I do know, it wasn't drugs or anything, I swear! Ayden would never do that kinda thing… and trust me the old Elise would never, ever… I don't think she ever even stood close enough to a smoker to inhale passively! But, I dunno what happened, but the next day they were both acting all weird: Like they were someone else altogether. They both turned nasty like. He and Elise just seemed to be so different. And it was like nobody else mattered anymore, but them."
"Hmm." Sam contemplated, the scenario sounded kind of like Dean… But, obviously in this case a demon was involved somehow. He wondered if Elise could possibly be possessed by Devoratus himself. "Do you know where I can find Elise?"
"I suppose…" Simone replied. "Elise Dodd… She's studying Art History over at John Grand's, she lives just a few blocks away… Apartment 2B, 125 East Grand Boulevard. She shares with a few girls from college."
oooOOOooo
I apologize for the length of this fic, it kind of got away from me. The demon chase was initially intended only as a brief backdrop for what was happening to Dean. But then it grew a life of its own, with a story to be told… So please persist, there really is a much greater story that is lurking in the darkest shadows, as yet to be told. Already tendrils of evil are entangling the unsuspecting hunters! I've laid a few clues, I wonder if anyone has picked up on them as yet?
Please Read and Review, I'd love to know if anyone has persisted this far, and what you may think.