Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
I'm skipping No Exit and The Usual Suspects, they're not really important to the storyline.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Garideth- Yeah, I hate him too! But Ava? Don't even get me started on her….
ccgnme- Cas is mega-awesome!
blue daisies- Aw, thank you! Actually, Odette's secret will be revealed in 2.17. Heart, that is! Yeah, I just picked them up along the way, I love learning new stuff!
XKaterinaNightingaleX- :) Thanks!
Chapter name borrowed from Nazareth.
CHAPTER ELEVEN- HAIR OF THE DOG
We sat at the diner unobtrusively, trying to remain inconspicuous.
The waitress took our order, flirting with Castiel.
I felt a flash of irritation.
"So much for our low profile," Sam grunted, closing his laptop.
"You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database."
Dean grinned.
"Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something."
Sam glared at him.
"Dean, it's not funny. Makes the job harder, we've gotta be more careful now."
"Well," Dean kicked back in his chair. "What do they got on you?"
"I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet," Sam muttered.
Dean's eyes widened mischievously.
"No accessory? Nothing?"
"Shut up."
Dean lunged for the laptop, reading with barely concealed glee.
"Hey, even the kid's got a count! You're the only one who hasn't!"
Sam growled.
Dean smirked.
"You're jealous!"
Sam snatched the laptop back.
"No, I'm not!"
Castiel looked at us perplexedly.
"I don't understand. How is it a matter of pride for you to be known as a notorious criminal?"
Dean thought about it for a minute.
"It just is, okay?"
"All right," Dean looked at Sam. "What do you got on the case there, you innocent, harmless young man, you?"
Sam shut his computer again, annoyed.
I handed him the research.
"Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed."
"Hmm," Dean snorted. "Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. Classy. When did he call animal control?"
"Two days earlier," I supplied.
"Did he actually say Black Dog?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded.
"A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up, and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive."
Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Do you think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?"
"Maybe," Sam shrugged.
"What's the lore on it?"
"It's all pretty vague," I passed Dean the pages.
"I mean, there are spectral black dogs all over the world, but…. some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. Whatever they are, they're big and nasty."
Dean glanced at me.
"All right, Bambi."
I sighed, this was humiliating, but….
I'd never admit it, but I was secretly pleased.
Even Sam had taken to calling me Bambi.
I figured it was only fair, since I'd been calling him Sammy.
"Yeah, I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg, look at that one, huh?"
Dean held up a picture and smirked.
It slipped slightly as Castiel shot him a disapproving look.
"What? They could."
~Supernatural~
The room was posh and well-lit, and I hung back with Castiel as Dean and Sam continued their questioning.
"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?"
"That's right," The man nodded. "Now one more time, this is for….?"
"A tribute to Mr. Boyden," Dean rubbed his head.
"Architectural Digest."
The man laughed.
"This funny to you?"
"No… it…. It's just, a tribute," He said bitterly.
"Yeah. See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and my family behind…. well, he gets another tribute."
"Right." Sam coughed awkwardly. "Any idea why he'd do such a thing?"
"I, I have no clue," The man shook his head.
"I mean, he lived a charmed life."
"How so?"
"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I…. and it wasn't always that way, either."
"No?" Dean crossed his arms.
"You wanna know the truth? There was a time when he couldn't design a pup tent. Hell, ten years ago, he's working as a bartender in a place called Lloyd's. A complete dive."
Castiel shifted, narrowing his eyes.
"Right." Sam leant against the kitchen counter. "So what changed?"
"You got me," The man chewed his lip. "But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing…. he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen, it was like the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart…"
He broke off abruptly.
"What?"
"It's funny. True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they?"
~Supernatural~
We approached another white suburban door and knocked.
"I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbor's yard…"
Dean didn't need to finish.
The door opened and a young woman stared at us warily.
"Afternoon, ma'am," Dean pulled out his ID.
"Uh, Animal Control."
"Oh, someone already came yesterday," The woman smiled.
"Oh, we're just following up," Sam lied easily.
"We're looking for a Dr. Sylvia Pearlman?"
She let us in, glancing curiously at the silent angel.
"The doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago."
"Okay. And you are…" Sam trailed off.
"I'm Ms. Pearlman's maid."
Dean waited expectantly.
"So where did the doctor go?"
"I'm not sure," She shrugged. "She just packed and went, she didn't say where. That stray dog, did you find it?"
"Oh, not yet," Sam shifted. "You know, you didn't happen to see the dog yourself, did you?"
"Well, no. I never even heard it."
Castiel surprised me by reaching up and taking a photograph off the wall.
"I was almost starting to think she was imagining things, but the doctor's not like that…."
"Hey," Dean added.
"You know, I read she was, uh, chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty two, forty three? That's pretty young for the job."
"Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position….ten years ago?"
"Huh."
"Huh," Sam echoed Dean. "An overnight success. Ten years ago."
Castiel held up the photo, flipping it over so we could see the writing at the back.
Lloyd's Bar.
~Supernatural~
Castiel appeared in the car, making Dean curse violently.
"Feathers, how many times have I told you-"
Castiel ignored him.
He gestured outside at the bar.
"These people. They're making deals."
Castiel pointed at the crossroads.
"Look."
The yellow flowers planted by the side caught my attention.
He noticed my gaze.
"Those are yarrow flowers. Used for rituals. Summoning rituals."
Castiel disappeared out into the center of the crossroads, crouching to the ground.
We followed him hesitantly.
He dug into the hard soil, hitting something solid.
He stopped, pulling out an old rusted box.
Castiel opened it, showing several small bones and a stoppered jar.
"Graveyard dirt. And a black cat bone. This is hoodoo. It's used to summon a demon."
Sam huffed, stepping back from Castiel.
"They're seeing dogs, all right. But not black dogs. Hellhounds."
~Supernatural~
Sam and Dean had gone to look for more people who'd been regulars at the bar.
Dean had given me a calculating look before he'd left, almost as if he knew what I was planning.
Of course, hiding what I was trying to do from an angel was utterly futile.
Castiel stopped me before I'd even crossed the door.
"You're not going anywhere."
He picked me up unceremoniously by the scruff of my neck as I would a truant kitten, dumping me on the bed.
He leant against the door.
"Why do you want to make a deal?"
I couldn't control the tears any longer.
"I'm falling apart without them, Castiel. I'm nothing. I don't belong. Not here, not in Maine, not anywhere. Dean can't stand me. What else can I do but this?"
Castiel surprised me by sitting down on the bed.
"You're wrong. You have people who care. You have Sam."
I laughed bitterly.
Castiel fixed me with his unrelenting gaze.
"And I won't let you do this."