Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' is the property of Warner Brothers, the CW, and other associated parties. I claim no ownership of the franchise, characters or settings, nor am I affiliated with the above parties in any way. The following is a fan-work, written for my amusement, and not for material or monetary gain. Please support the official releases. (I don't own this).
Oh my God, Wimbledon was amaaaaaazing. Do you have any idea how much I cried when Andy Murray won? DO YOU? Djokovic put up a great game and it was so close, but damn, I'm so happy Murray won! I never thought I'd see Britain win Wimbledon in my lifetime but it finally happened! Now all I need is for England to win the world cup before I die- (that needs a miracle to happen- they have a hell of a lot of work to do before they get there). Oh man, oh man, I wrote this whole chapter on the high from the tennis on Sunday.
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Coalescence
By Payce D. Elui
Chapter 6: Skulking
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||Tuesday April 14 2009: 11:02
||Somewhere in Iowa
"Hey, hurry it up in there, Cinderella- we got a case," Dean called. He was sat at the small table in the latest motel they'd crashed at, Sam's laptop open in front of him.
"Yeah? Where?" Sam walked out of the bathroom, settling on the end of the bed. He grabbed the duffel bag at his feet and lifted it onto the bed, beginning to fill it with whatever belongings of his that had made it out during the course of their stay.
"Check this." Dean cleared his throat. "Jennifer Tanner, stabbed a total of- 11 times a few days ago on a trail in the Muir Woods."
"Grisly." Sam looked up. "What else?"
Dean leaned back in his chair. "What, that's not enough?"
"What? No- no." Sam looked confused. "You know- what's the pattern? Or are we going off of a one off? What are we after?"
"Angry spirit, maybe?" Dean shrugged, "Not too far from here- should be worth checking out."
That was a non-answer. Sam quirked his brow, crossing the room in three easy strides and turned the laptop around so he could see the screen. "Muir Woods... Part of the campus of the University of Wis... Wisconsin?" He shot a look at Dean, who squirmed. "Really, Dean? You sure you're not... reaching... here?" The words were hesitant- Sam knew better than anyone how well Dean coped with emotions being brought up. Adam wasn't a subject they bought up much at all.
Dean looked affronted. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing... nothing," Sam muttered. "You were saying?"
"Yeah, here- look." He pulled up a few other web pages, shoving the laptop in Sam's direction once again. "Look. Tianna James, Mark Bowman, Joanna Cameron, April '98- death by multiple stab wounds and found in the Muir Woods. Edith Pelham and Joshua Cross, April '87, death by multiple stab wounds, again in the same place... It carries on like that, one or more deaths between the twelfth and nineteenth of April, every six, eleven, eleven years, all the way back to like- 1931, like its cycling or something. Gotta admit that's weird."
Sam looked impressed. "You're right. That- that is weird."
"Right?"
"Uh- yeah." Sam pulled out his phone. "So I guess I'll call Adam and let him know we're on our way to deal with it-"
"No," said Dean loudly. "Don't call him."
Sam looked at his brother in confusion. "What? Why not? We should check in on him anyway, it's been over a month, man."
"It doesn't matter. Kid probably doesn't even know it's our kinda thing. We don't need to talk to him to check in on him, Sam."
"No- Dean-"
"Sam- the further away from us he is, the better, all right? You heard him for yourself- he didn't want anything to do with us- he wanted to finish school. If that's what he wants, we respect it. We are not going to make the same mistake as dad did with this kid, got it?"
Sam glared at him.
"What- you have a problem with that?" Dean asked.
He did. But he backed down. "No. No," Sam muttered, looking away.
"Good. Pack up, let's go."
† † †
||Wednesday April 15 2009
Adam peeled the bandages from his skin. The lacerations were now nearly completely healed, and what remained amounted to a number of ugly scars, the skin uneven and even puckered unpleasantly in places. He grimaced, pulling the shirt over his head and slipping his arms through it. Once ready, he grabbed a notebook and strode out of the single-room.
He didn't have a lecture until two. Mythology had an earlier start-up, though, and he didn't want to miss that. There was just enough time to grab breakfast.
† † †
The Impala crept into a parking space a good six blocks from the university.
Sam shot Dean a bemused look. "You're kidding, right?"
"What? Kid knows what the car looks like. You got covers planned?"
"Uh- yeah," Sam nodded, pulling out some papers from the glove box. "Grief counselors."
"... Heh heh, nice one. Really though, what are the covers?"
"What? No- I'm being serious," Sam said, looking amused. "It gives us an excuse to be on campus- let's us check up on how Adam's doing through his friends- plus, the vic has friends we could talk to. You were right about the pattern being a weird one- might be a good idea to check off the list of monsters before we head right in for it."
Dean frowned. "You know, when I said we could check in on Adam without talking to him, I meant- you know, breaking into his room, tailing him for a while- not.. Stalking his friends. That's creepy, Sammy-boy."
Sam snorted. "Right, because what you're proposing is so much less creepy."
Dean rolled his eyes. "How do you even know who the kid hangs out with?"
Sam smiled an enigmatic smile. "I have my ways..."
"...Right. 'Course you do." Dean sighed and got out of the car.
Time to get to work.
† † †
His eyes were fixed on the last words he'd written in the notebook. He felt cold, and his fingers reached for the ring that encircled his finger, twisting it round and round and round. The weight was a comforting one.
Someone had been murdered on campus. There'd been rumours, of course- the day before, with police sweeping in and cordoning off large portions of the woods, rumours were bound to fly. But no-one knew exactly what had happened.
And now they did. The Muir woods were situated just behind his old halls... That was rather unsettling.
There was a choked off sob from somewhere in front of him as the silence of the lecture hall was broken for the first time after the news.
"Yes, I'm sure this will come as a shock to many of you," the professor said steadily. "Nonetheless, the authorities are looking into it- if you do have any information, I'm sure they'd love to hear it."
Murder on campus. And to think he'd come away from home to escape the death. His face sunk into his hands.
† † †
She was hot. Dean smiled just a little wider, sizing the woman up. Red hair that tickled the tops of her shoulders, freckles over lightly tanned skin, and big brown eyes- she was... Hot. A little too young for him, though. The man next to her, Dean's height, with dark brown hair and more narrowed eyes, shifted in discomfort.
"Are we in trouble, or...?"
Oh, it was definitely a good idea to dress sharp for this expedition.
"Oh, no," Sam assured with a small smile. "Max Gregory and... Imogen George, right?"
"Can- can we help you?" Imogen asked warily.
"I'm David Webber, this is my partner Matthew Wilson- we're here on behalf of Adam Milligan? We're his grief counselors."
The Winchesters pulled out some identification- false, of course. It should probably have been worrying that so few people knew how to really spot an official, but it made their job easier. The papers seemed to alleviate any fears the two students had left- they relaxed almost immediately.
"Kinda dressed a bit fancy for grief counselors, aren't you?" Max mumbled. Dean caught his eye with a stern look and the kid blanched, straightening. Damn if Dean couldn't be intimidating sometimes. Sam bit back a smirk. Dean was not so restrained.
"Adam's finally getting some counseling?" Imogen asked. She sounded extremely relieved. "Good. I'm glad- he needed to talk to someone, if not us."
Sam frowned at that, storing the information away for discussion later. "No," he said, "no, we had one meeting when he arrived back at university-" that much Sam knew from Adam's file. "He made reference to yourself and some of your friends- it's how we knew about you- but he didn't want to go through with sessions, so we let him be. We thought it would be good idea to follow up with his friends a little later anyway, just to see how he was doing- we all want what's best for Adam, after all."
"Yes we do," Dean piped in, perhaps a tad too cheerily, and Sam threw him a quick look of disapproval. He herded them over to one of the benches nearby, under the shade of some trees.
"So, you're his girlfriend, yes?" Sam asked Imogen, leaning in, expression open. He saw Dean straighten up at that, and a considering look come over his face.
"Uh, we- we're on a break right now, but yes, I am." She looked a little downcast at that, and Sam's brow rose.
"A... break?" he asked.
"Yeah, he- Adam- after what happened, he was- different. And I get it," she added hastily, "-I mean, you can't go back to normal straight off after something like that- we figured it would be better for him to get his head straight first instead of, you know, trying to balance everything with his mom and then a relationship, too. And when he came back from spring break it was like he was a little better- the time alone did him some good, and that's when I figured- you know, a break might help too, so he could concentrate on himself. But now he just... He doesn't really talk to us much. He's by himself most of the time- in the science libraries or his room or something. I mean- he even transferred to a whole different building- and that was without telling Dominic- another friend of his. He doesn't even do mythology and folklore, but he goes to most of the lectures anyway-"
"I'm sorry," Sam interrupted her, "did you say mythology and folklore?" It was hard to keep the incredulity from his tone; Adam had shown nothing but reluctance for what they had taught him- it was why Sam hadn't tried harder to convince him to join them. What the hell was he playing at?
"Y-yeah," Imogon said. "I don't know; it's a bit weird. It doesn't help him with biology or premed at all- but he takes so many notes. Like he's taking it more seriously than he should, I don't know..." She trailed off.
"It's fine." Sam nodded and gave the woman a reassuring smile. "Please-continue"
"There's not much more to say- it's just... when he's sitting with us, it's like... He's not really there? And I don't know how to help him."
She sounded frustrated, but she wasn't finished yet.
"I thought having a little time to himself would be good for him- but I don't think it is, and now I'm trying to fix it- I invite him out as much as I can, we all do, but most of the time he says no and I don't know what else to do. I don't know how to help him after something like that, and he doesn't talk to anyone about it."
"Well yeah," Max cut in, "but you read the papers- everyone knows what happened. Shit, man, they said that him and his mom were held in like- some torture coffin or something- it's not something you'd wanna talk about-"
"It doesn't mean that he shouldn't!" Imogen snapped. "You've seen how he is. He's angry."
The Winchesters eyed the two in front of them. Clearly the argument between them was one that they'd gone through a few times. Sam empathised- knew just how difficult it had been to get Adam to talk. The smartass that peeked out at times, the reluctance to talk about what had happened to him- maybe his circumstances had shaped some of it, but part of it had to be inborn. It reminded him of Dean in too many ways to not have been. Speaking of which...
A quick glance out of the corner of his eye at Dean showed the oldest Winchester wearing a stoic mask, any good humour on his face having melted from it during Imogen's rambling speech. The hand of his that was settled in his lap was flexing ever so slightly, the only visible sign of anxiousness his brother was putting out. Not that Sam blamed him- he wasn't exactly thrilled at what he was hearing himself. He hadn't expected sunshine and rainbows, but he hadn't expected this either. He hoped Adam would be smart with whatever he was doing.
For now, they had what they wanted from the two sitting in front of them. Sam cleared his throat, breaking Imogen and Max from their argument. They started, as if they'd forgotten they were privy to an audience.
"Right, thanks for your time. We'd appreciate if this was kept between the four of us? We'll be working with the university-" lie "-but we don't want Adam feeling cornered, I'm sure you understand?"
"Yeah, yeah, man, we get it," Max nodded. "Thanks, by the way. I didn't know UW did anything like this- it's awesome."
"Just... help him? Please?" Imogen asked quietly. "And is there anything you think we should be doing? To help, I mean. It's like everything we try to do just pushes him... Further away. I hate it."
"Keep up with what you're doing," Dean replied shortly. He looked antsy, and his mood had clearly turned for the worse- the two students looked suddenly weary at the change in demeanour.
"What my partner means," Sam said loudly, trying to keep the air for decorum and professionalism intact, "is that the best thing you can do is keep trying to involve him. Bring him into some of your interests if he doesn't want to share his? Being alone can help when someone is grieving, but sometimes all it does is give someone time with enough feelings to drown themselves in." Death was an abject reality, a life that the Winchesters breathed and knew all too well. God, the time with the Mystery Spot and that year after Dean went to hell- if anyone knew what they were talking about when it came to death, Sam did. "Don't force him into anything, but don't exclude him either." He gave them a faint smile. "I realise it can be difficult to find a balance, but I have faith you'll be able to do it."
Another lie. What Adam needed was his family. Maybe Dean would see it now. They should never have left him alone.
"I can do that," Max said. "Definitely some books I found he might be interested in."
"Ok," said Imogen, eyes fixed on the bench even as Sam and Dean got to their feet. "Thanks. For talking to us about this."
"It's our job, Ms. George." He handed her a dud card, quickly making the decision to scribble his own personal number at the bottom of it.
"If you have any more concerns..."
Imogen looked up. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."
† † †
"Adam!"
Adam blinked, looking around for whoever was calling him. Imogen made her way over and Adam gave her a small, practiced smile. If it looked as fake as it felt, Imogen took no notice of it.
"What is it?"
"You're coming out with us tonight."
He withheld a groan. With the news on Jenny's apparent murder, he really wasn't in the mood for this at all.
"Imogen-"
"No, Adam, I'm not taking no for an answer this time. I know I said you needed time to yourself, but you're taking it too far. You can't just stop seeing us all together. Come with us. Please?" She was pleading with him, and Adam frowned.
"Look, I dunno, 'Gen-"
"Adam, we never see you anymore..." She looked upset.
"...Where are we even going?" Adam sighed, relenting, and Imogen brightened.
"Fun fair set up by the lake," she said, slipping her arm through his. "Thanks, Adam."
"Eh."
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"All right, seriously, how are you doing that?" Dean bit out after they'd talked to Adam's old roommate, Dominic.
"Doing what?"
Dean pointed behind them at Dominic, who was walking away. "That."
"What- talking?"
"No! How do you know who to talk to? Who his friends are? Last I checked, the two of you weren't exactly buddy-buddy. No way Adam would have told you that much." Dean looked vexed- maybe sounded even a little unsure of himself- no way it was jealousy, it couldn't be.
Sam held up his phone.
Dean narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"Gimme a second." Dean watched as Sam fiddled with the thing for a few seconds before passing it over. He glared at the screen.
"No way."
Sam smirked.
"Facebook? Adam has Facebook?" The expression on Dean's face was priceless. He looked like he was sucking on a particularly bitter lemon. Sam laughed.
"Yeah, yeah he does. Wasn't too hard to figure out who to talk to once I tracked him down there. So, no- no magic, no heart to hearts, just technology, Dean. I could tell you his favourite foods, bands, people, if you like. Take your pick."
"Don't tell me you're on there too?" Dean sounded almost like he was pleading and Sam laughed even harder.
"No, no I'm not. Probably would have been harder to find anything if he had higher privacy settings- but he doesn't. Lucky for us, right?" It certainly made assuming their roles a lot easier. The information was there, ripe for the taking.
"Yeah, and any other nutjob that wants to stalk him," Dean retorted. "You're scaring me, Sammy."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Hey, you wanted to do this your way."
Dean handed the phone back to his brother and shuddered. "I feel dirty."
Sam laughed.
"What are you thinking, anyway?"
"Hm?"
"About Adam," Dean added awkwardly. "What his friends are saying?"
"Oh. I dunno." Sam shrugged. "The mythology classes are a bit weird, but- I don't know, everything else seems... Normal? He's gotta still be grieving- what he went though was, uh... brutal. Gonna be hard to get over. Maybe the classes are how he's dealing with it?" That was what Dean wanted to hear, wasn't it? He'd made the call to leave, after all.
"Yeah. Maybe." He didn't sound convinced.
Good.
Sam knew his brother- his oldest brother- better than anyone else. If Dean was going to change his mind, he'd have to see the ramifications of his decisions with his own eyes. Callus, maybe, but it was how Dean worked.
"His friends," Dean said, the words halting as if they were struggling to part from his lips, "they were pretty worried about him."
"Yeah. Yeah, they were, Dean. He sounds like he's in a funk. It's not... easy. Come on- you know what it's like. Mom. Dad." Sam shrugged helplessly. "His mom was all the real family he had." Except now he had brothers. "We had each other after mom- or you had me. We had each other after dad."
"It was better for him. He didn't want in anyway." And now Dean was trying to convince himself.
"You know- when you were in the pit- I had no-one," Sam commented, voice low. "No... family, anyway. It was hard."
Sam had known what it was to experience grief without anyone else. Dean had died at the Mystery Spot and Sam had been alone. Dean had spent a year in hell and Sam had been alone. They'd abandoned Adam to the same fate consciously. It would never sit right with him.
"Adam- he should have had us, too, Dean."
Dean said nothing.
† † †
Max: you coming then?
Adam: to the fair yeah
Adam: imogen
Max: hahahahaha
Max: still whipped?
Adam: Bite me
Max: hahahaha
† † †
Sam and Dean kept a brisk pace as they rounded a corner, coming up to a big white building. Dean surveyed the area as they strode forward- no sign of Adam anywhere. They'd done a marvellous job of avoiding him so far.
"You sure he won't be here?"
"Yeah." Sam waved a few pieces of paper in Dean's direction. "His attendance record and timetable- he hasn't missed a single lecture since being back- and he's got one scheduled for right now. He shouldn't be there."
Dean didn't look convinced but nodded along anyways and the two made their way into the building, seamlessly passing by various students and getting no more than a second glance until they made it to the right floor.
"This one, right?" Dean inclined his head in the direction of the door, and Sam nodded. Testing the handle, they were unsurprised that it didn't budge; the door was locked. Dean eyed the surroundings quickly before crouching down and fiddling with the lock with his pick. Less than a minute later the door clicked open and Sam and Dean slipped inside, shutting it behind them.
It was a box of a room, really; Dean eyed it with distaste. It was sparsely decorated, with an unmade bed, a desk with some scraps laying atop it, and a single wardrobe with a few half-open drawers at the bottom. There was a suitcase and a few duffel bags lying at the foot of the bed, a window above the bed at the far side of the room, and Dean strode across the room, reaching for the sill. Salt.
"The hell?"
"What?" Sam was leaning over the desk, examining the papers strewn across the surface.
"Salt."
"Yeah, there's some by the door, too," Sam said distractedly. He held one of the papers up. "Devil's trap."
"What the hell, Sam?" He moved to the wardrobe.
"Wait- what are you doing?" Sam narrowed his eyes.
"What did you think we were here for, Sam, sightseeing? Get looking."
"For what?" Sam drew back.
"Anything," Dean bit out. He opened the wardrobe, hiding from view. Sam knew better than to argue with him when he sounded like that.
Sam shrugged off any ill feelings about the blatant invasion of Adam's privacy and moved to the drawers in the desk, pawing through them as quickly and non-obtrusively as he could. Invading his Facebook was one thing- his physical privacy- his belongings, was another. Though he supposed privacy was a non-issue in his family- there was none of it, not really. Sam and Dean had invaded nearly every aspect of one another's lives- he supposed that with this, Adam was no different.
Dean was making a quick job of the wardrobe and Sam focussed on the job at hand until a sudden sound of disgust drew his attention. He glanced over at Dean questioningly, and the oldest Winchester pulled out a gun from one of the drawers at the base of the wardrobe.
"I told him to hide this properly." He looked irritated. "The wardrobe?" He scoffed. "Kid has a lot to learn." He placed the gun back in its place, pushing the drawer back to its original half-open position. Dean stepped back striding over to the bed and beginning to feel under the mattress.
Sam raised an eyebrow at the. Practiced motions. "You do this a lot?"
"What?" Dean grunted, carefully hefting the mattress up to peer beneath it. "No."
"So you didn't do this to me when I was at Stanford?"
Dean snorted. "Nah. Dad trained you - you would have seen me coming, Sammy." There was a bitterness in that, and Dean dropped the mattress back down and moved over to bags at the foot of the bed. Sam swallowed, turning back to the desk.
They'd found salt, a gun, and devil's trap doodles so far.
Sam pulled a small refillable notebook embossed in red leather from the bottom drawer in the desk. He fingered through it, letting out a low whistle.
"What?" Dean came up behind him.
Sam handed it over and Dean snatched it, flicking through it.
He saw Dean's expression darken, a figurative storm cloud appear over his head.
Notes. Annotations. References. Lots of them. On what Sam and Dean had taught him and then some. Information that they hadn't given him, protective symbols that they hadn't seen before, lore on creatures that he shouldn't have heard of or been looking into. He knew Adam had been taking lectures on mythology and folklore, but it was clear this was something beyond even that.
That wasn't to say there weren't inaccuracies- that some of the information wasn't completely wrong. The page on vampires was rife with mistakes- ('stabbing in the heart with a wooden stake? Too Hollywood?'). But it was there, written in a spindly but readable scrawl in an array of black, blue, red and green ink. Information that Sam and Dean had given him was highlighted in bright yellow, and at the back there was even an appendices.
Adam had really gone to town on this thing.
Dean's jaw was set tight. He wasn't happy. "Think he knows about the case here?" he finally asked.
"I didn't find anything to do with that."
"No guarantees, though."
"Adam's smart, Dean- we did tell him to call us if anything came up," Sam reasoned.
"Yeah, he said he wanted to come back and finish school, too. Didn't wanna get involved in this. What the hell is this, then?" He voice raised a notch and he thrust the notebook back at Sam.
"I did tell you," Sam said quietly.
"Shut up, Sam." He turned, carding his fingers through his hair in frustration. He looked like he wanted to hit something.
"The sooner we finish the case, the better." He turned, eyeing the bed and the bags he'd been rifling through. "Put it back," he said, nodding towards the notebook. "Let's get outta here, come on."
† † †
Imogen: Hey, Adam- I forgot to tell you- we're meeting at half 8 by E/W halls? You're winning me something today- bring your A-game!
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Sam had disappeared somewhere- said he was going back to the car, but Dean wasn't done yet. No-one had given him a second glance as he'd entered the library for sciences, and that was where he'd finally caught a glimpse of Adam sitting at a table, surrounded by books. There was a look of concentration on his face as he leafed through one in front of him, and Dean watched as he fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck before he suddenly glanced up, looking around.
Dean leaned back behind the bookshelf he'd been hiding behind. He hadn't been seen; another glance at Adam showed him with his nose back in his books as it should have been.
This was how you saw how someone was really doing- the way they behaved when they were by themselves and didn't know they were being watched. It was a level of creepy, sure, but Dean could see. He could see the eye bags, the hair that didn't look like it had been brushed, the clothes that were a little more rumpled than they should have been. It was little consolation that at the very least, Adam hadn't lost too much weight.
Dean stepped completely back behind the bookcase and closed his eyes, letting out a little sigh. He wondered if they'd done the right thing in leaving Adam alone. Maybe Sam had been right, but...
It was too dangerous, damnit. Any other time- any other time, and sure, but now? On the cusp of the apocalypse?
Adam... was family. But he was also complication, and didn't Dean hate himself for thinking of him in that way.
Sam, Castiel, Zachariah- hell, even God, apparently, thought Dean was the one to back to stop the apocalypse, but how could he do that if Adam, dorky, young Adam- really as defenceless as a damn toothless baby when it came right down to it- was in the line of fire?
He couldn't. He wouldn't.
The only thing for Adam in the life was misery and death. It was too late for him, too late for Sam- but Adam, Adam could be safe. Adam could be normal.
He swallowed his doubts, peering round the bookcase one last time.
Adam was gone.
Dean felt the hairs at the base of his neck give an unpleasant prickle and he bit back a groan. That sneaky sonofabitch.
He turned around, fixing a smirk to his face. It was strained but no-one would know the difference.
"Adam."
"Dean." Adam didn't look at all pleased to see him
† † †
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Eeh, I know its a few hours late again, but I'm trying. Be warned, though, while I'll try and keep the update rate to once a week, my life is getting a lot busier now, so the updates may slow down a bit after next week. Don't worry- it's not because I'm losing interest or anything- guys, I have this planned out for at least to the end of series 5 so far, never fear. Plus, the fact that I can write these chapters on my phone and just email them to myself makes things so much more easier- I can write on the go and not have to waste time rewriting everything once I'm done! For now, hopefully I'll see you all this time next week!~