Three
"You're sure this is where Bobby said the problem was?" Sam Winchester asked from the passenger seat of the Impala, setting down the water he had bought when his older brother Dean had stopped the car for a gas fill up.
"You mean problems plural," Dean explained as he took a sharp right turn leading down a smaller and older road away from the main part of New Orleans. The air was muggy and full of humidity now that the sun had risen above the tree line and Dean had the air conditioning running full blast along with the radio. Sam reached for the button to turn it down so that he could hear Dean. "There have been a number of strange deaths more recently and Bobby just wanted us to check it out that's all."
"I'm surprised Cas didn't alert us first," Sam sighed. "What with all the constant impending doom and all that going on you'd think he'd be on top of anything strange."
"He's got enough to worry about in heaven," Dean said, defending Castiel's absence that even he had to admit was leaving a small void. "They just started to get everything straight up there. Leave earth to us."
"Well I'm gonna book us a motel room then." Sam begun to pull out his cell phone and a local phone directory they'd picked up, or rather stolen off of someone's front door step when they weren't looking. The place had looked abandoned anyway.
"No need," Dean replied with a smile. "Bobby hooked us up. He knows three hunters who all live here. They've got a place we could crash in and he gave me their address."
"Beats bed bugs." Sam said.
"Name one time you got bed bugs." Dean challenged his brother, but before Sam could answer Dean looked over on the side of the road to see a decrepit looking church surrounded by police officers and crime scene tape. Dean motioned to Sam to get their fake IDs out and hand him his as he pulled the Impala off the road and the two exited the vehicle and made their way over to the scene. They flashed their IDs at the cops guarding the scene and luckily they didn't look too hard at them.
"One of your buddies is already here." One of them said and Dean and Sam both gave each other confused looks. Castiel wasn't anywhere to be found and the only other FED looking guy was already talking to one of the cops. Dean had a moment of panic, wondering if the real FEDs were involved, but luckily he had Bobby's fake business card he could slip him and keep them under wraps. Dean and Sam calmly made their way over to the cop and the other FBI agent and flashed their badges before taking in the grotesque scenery before them.
"Agents Wentz and Stump," Dean introduced them. "Looks like another gross scene."
"Well they're never pleasant," the officer answered, not even caring about the fact that the other alleged "FBI" agent was giving the two brothers a death glare. "I suppose y'all know this is fifth so far this week in this parish. Damn near gave everyone in the church a heart attack. Not every day a Father passes out like that and just dies."
"Well wishes to ol' Padre," Dean bowed his head for a moment. "But this looks like an awful lot of blood for just a heart attack or something of that nature."
"It wasn't a heart attack." The third "agent's" thick New Orleans accent bled through his words as his eyes fixated on Sam and Dean. "I was there when it happened and I was just filling good old Officer Miller in on it."
"I see," Sam replied. "And you are?"
"Name's Taylor Lords," he answered. "Private detective, I was enjoying my regular Sunday service when suddenly this dog attacked the Father. Came outta nowhere and disappeared into the swamps of the bayou. Doubt they'll find it, but if they do I'm sure I'll be the first to know."
"Darn right you will," Officer Miller nodded and then looked over at another one of his officers who was waving him over to the steps. "Excuse me gentlemen."
"Fall Out Boy." the man said.
"Excuse me?" Dean asked.
"It's a band," the man said snarkily. "I know damn well you two ain't Pete Wentz and Patrick Stump. The body reeks of EMF, I already scanned it myself. That being said, this is my hunt, stay out of my town."
The man started walking away and eventually disappeared down the road from the direction Sam and Dean had come from. They gave each other a look before thanking the officers for their time and getting back into their car.
"Another hunter," Dean commented. "Doubt he's one of the people Bobby is having us work with. He basically implied he works alone."
"Doubt it," Sam replied and buckled in as Dean took off down the road further. "Besides he went the opposite way into town. These hunters don't live there do they?"
"Nope," Dean shook his head. "They live in some ancient house on the creek nearby."
Moments after Dean got through describing it the house came into view. Just as Bobby as told him it was older and painted white. The shutters were open and so were a few of the windows, curtains blowing in the slight breeze. Glass wind chimes hung on the front porch and made delightful little sounds when they hit against one another. There was a slightly escue birdhouse hanging on an ancient and enormous tree in the front yard and a black 1967 Mustang Fastback sat in the driveway. That caught Dean's eye before anything else and he broke into a smile. Dean put the Impala into park and the brothers got out and were greeted by a girl first.
"You two must be Bobby's friends," she smiled and shook both of their hands. "I'm Delilah Ray. Welcome to the abode. The others should be around here somewhere?"
"I'm here," a guy came down the stairs and extended his paint covered hand. Dean took it first and gave it a firm shake and then Sam did with a smile. "Name's Drew Tanner, Sallie should be around here somewhere?"
"Sallie huh," Dean smirked and chuckled. "Well if she's as hot as you miss."
Delilah smirked in response and started to laugh. Drew was slightly confused, but then another voice spoke up and all heads turned in the direction of the gate leading to the backyard. Another man was closing it behind him.
"Why thank you," LeSalle chuckled. "Sadly though I'm spoken for."
Dean was slightly embarrassed when the third hunter took his hand and shook it. Sam was trying not to laugh.
"I'm LeSalle Parker," he said. "Better known as Sallie sometimes but my partner Drew here."
It didn't take long for the brothers to put two and two together. Sam simply smiled and didn't say anything; Dean on the other hand was more vocal.
"Partner," Dean asked. "As in you two are together?"
"Yep," LeSalle pulled Drew closer and wrapped his arm around him so his hand was resting on Drew's hip before he flashed a smile to the other man. "He's all mine."
Drew's face flushed a bit, but he smiled just the same. LeSalle planted a kiss on his forehead before letting him go and getting back to the brothers.
"You two must be Bobby's favorite hunters," LeSalle smirked. "No surprise there. Based on what he's told me you're like sons to him. It's nice to finally meet ya."
"You've known Bobby for awhile I take it?" Sam inquired.
"He used to hunt with my dad sometimes," LeSalle said, a hint of something else lingered in his voice, but Sam didn't bring it up. "Or he'd babysit me when my dad had a hunt nearby before we'd come back home to good old N'awlins."
"He used to watch us too," Sam smiled and followed LeSalle to the front door. Dean was fascinated by the wind chimes and stared right through them. "When Dean and I were kids."
"They're made of crushed glass bottles," Delilah said, snapping Dean out of his trance and he looked over at her with her hands in her pockets, leaning up against one of the posts on the front porch. "I get artsy in my free time."
"What can I say," Dean shrugged. "I like a girl who knows how to use her hands."
"S'at really your best line," Delilah laughed as she walked past Dean towards the front door. "I've heard better, besides LeSalle wouldn't let you anywhere near me."
Dean smiled to himself and went through the door after her. The front room was even more elegant than the outside architecture wise, but the furniture wasn't quite as dated. To the left of the fireplace in the middle was an older brown pull out couch and to the left were two seats. In the middle was a coffee table with an old car magazine on it that was the year before and that was also clearly hiding a water ring imbedded in the wood from someone's cup of coffee sitting there too long.
"Sorry we didn't have any time to clean up the front room," LeSalle said. "Wasn't my turn to pass the vacuum today?"
"Don't look at me," Drew's voice went up slightly. "Lila here had me painting the whole damn guest room. It'd be usable if she hadn't decided I needed a makeover."
"Oh boo hoo it'll come out of your hair," Delilah replied. "Consider it new blue freckles? Besides if I wasn't here nothing would get done."
"Bottom line," LeSalle interrupted their little session before it got worse. "We have one pull out couch and a spare twin bed in the office. I hope one of you doesn't mind sleeping on the couch?"
"I'll take the couch," Dean offered. "I'm shorter than Gigantor here anyway."
"Gee thanks Dean." Sam gave him a small bitch face and picked up his knapsack before following Delilah to the office. She got some clean sheets and pillow covers out and set them out on the bed for Sam to do as he pleased.
"Don't look to hard at the mess," she commented. "Most of this shit is Salle's. He's yet to clear it out."
"Don't worry about it," Sam offered her a smile and she gave him one in return. "Just as long as you don't take my brother's flirting too seriously."
"I never take a man's words too seriously," Delilah said. "It's his eyes that give it all away."
"Smart girl." Sam smirked.
"I've had to learn over the years." She replied before leaving Sam to do whatever he pleased with his bed. She joined Drew in the kitchen for a round of coffee as LeSalle helped Dean with the pull out couch.
"I suppose y'all have heard about the weird things happening," LeSalle was trying to keep the conversation as hunter happy as possible. The last thing he needed was two random hunters being clued in as to what he really was when his own housemates didn't even know. "Police can't figure it out. I figured we'd hit up the local haunts tonight and try to gain intel. There's more hunters than just all of us, but if things don't our way we can always check things out ourselves."
"I like the way you think," Dean replied. "Plus I'm always down for a few refreshments."
"Dean Winchester," LeSalle laughed and patted him on the back. "I think we're gonna get along fine."
-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-
Night fell and LeSalle parked his car near a local bar that he frequented quite often with his housemates and Dean parked the Impala right behind him. The group made their way towards the front door and when they opened it they were greeted with the usual sights and sounds of a bar. Beer everywhere, sports channel on every television screen, and rock music.
"Who dat? Who dat? Who dat say dey gonna beat them Saints?!" a group of drunken men were cheering on the state football team as the group passed their rowdy table. Dean laughed at their antics as Sam drifted away from the table in hopes that they wouldn't spill their beer on the only long sleeve shirt he had that wasn't part of his FBI getup. LeSalle led the group over to the bar and they all sat down in one long line.
"Ah Salle," the bartender smiled brightly. "What'll it be?"
"Usual for me Pete," LeSalle smiled. "Everyone order what ya want."
They did and when the bartender turned his back LeSalle turned to his companions about to say something before a strong hand took him by the collar and slammed him up against the nearby wall. Drew and Delilah both jumped to their feet and Delilah's glare could kill. Drew stayed back, sort of afraid. Dean and Sam both assessed the situation.
"That's the guy we saw earlier Dean," Sam realized. "At the church."
"Deacon you can't keep your hands off me can you?" LeSalle smirked.
"Oh shut your pretty boy trap." Deacon practically snarled.
Reviews are appreciated!
Translations if needed (Note to everyone I'm using a New Orleans slang website so if any of you are from there and these things are inaccurate/insulting I apologize and please correct me):
N'awlins – Short for New Orleans
The Saints cheer – chant said by New Orleans Saints fans
Front room – living room
Pass the vacuum – to vacuum
More to come soon!