Disclaimer: All the usual jazz, I own nothing.
A/N: To LilyBolt, and WinchesterBabe1234, Thanks for all your support and reviews it means the world to me. Hope this chapter satisfies just as much! To anyone and everyone viewing this thank you and please feel free to review. Constructive criticism welcome, just try not to be too mean. :)
A/N 2: Special thanks to DeansBabyBird, if not for you this chapter would have been a hot mess! Thank you so much for your services!
Chapter 4: Q and A With the Djinn of Destiny
I follow Sheridan Rose up the stairs and when we come to the landing, I pause, acting winded but really I'm just being a typical hunter trying to suss out if there is any danger (and quite possibly being nosy too). I look down the hallways and note that every door to every room is closed tightly against prying eyes. I listen intently for any sound that will give me a clue as to what's going on behind the thin barriers but all I'm greeted with is an unnatural silence.
I'm aware of the feeling of being watched and when I turn, I see Sheridan eying me astutely. "You won't be able to hear anything." she states.
"Let me guess, a spell?" there is a slight edge of sarcasm that I can't quite keep out of my voice and I can't say I'm surprised when she confirms my comment.
"Good guess. It goes along with the whole anonymity thing."
"Has it always been like this? All spells, all the time?" I query as she pulls me forward toward the attic.
"Mostly, although the silence spell in the hallway only came into effect after an incident that happened about a year and a half ago."
"Oh? I'm sensing a story here. Is it one you're able to tell?" I can't hide the fact that I'm intrigued even though I'm sure she won't tell me anything, not with their strict client confidentiality policy, so I'm surprised when she pauses at the foot of the attic stairs and starts talking.
"I don't recall what package they came in for and I couldn't tell you that anyway, but it was a husband and wife. After their consultation, they were put into separate scenarios,which, I didn't know was possible at the time since I'd only been working for Madam Hecate for about a year and was still learning the ropes.
"Anyway, the couple was separated and apparently the wife was..." She suddenly blushes and my curiosity ratchets up a notch. "overwhelmed by what was going on in her room and was moaning and screaming." Sheridan pauses, looking at me and I nod, now understanding that the wife had been partaking in some extramarital activities. Loudly and passionately partaking.
"Huh!" I huff, slightly amused.
"Yeah, so her husband was only one door over and evidently not enjoying his session as much as she was. I happened to be between clients at the moment and, lucky me, had a birds eye view for what happened next. Trust me, it wasn't pretty!" She begins to giggle almost uncontrollably.
"Well don't leave me in suspense, woman! What happened next?" I prompt her, not bothering to hide the fact that I'm unbearably curious now.
"C'mon. I'll tell you the rest when we get to my room." She urges me up the last flight of stairs and propels me gently through the middle of the three doors that lead off the narrow landing.
Momentarily distracted from the tale she was telling, I look around the sparsely furnished room. The walls are painted in an electric blue that reminds me of the color I know her eyes will turn when she sends me to my dream world. The full sized bed has a plump comforter in the same shade of blue as the walls. Off to the left of the bed is a chest of drawers with a connecting mirror that is littered with pictures of Sheridan, at various ages (although none recent), hugging a gangly brown haired man. I turn to take in more of the room and see that one corner has been turned into a reading nook of sorts, with two overflowing bookshelves flanked on either side by two worn but comfortable looking wing back stuffed armchairs. The only other piece of furniture in the room is an odd shaped recliner-that reminds me of the paper covered vinyl examination tables in doctor's offices- and I wonder if this is where she'll unleash her mojo on me.
Turning back to Sheridan, I prod her to tell me the rest of her story. It's a stalling tactic and I realize, now that I'm so close to having the thing I want most that I'm a little worried. Worried because I know, without a doubt, that I'll succumb to the seductive pull of the dream world again.
Sheridan grabs my hand, breaking me out of my musings, and ushers me over to sit in one of the high backed chairs and takes the one opposite me.
"So, where was I?" she stills, thinking back to her story. Half a minute later, she jerks as if she's been electrocuted and a frenzy of words tumble from her mouth.
"So, I was walking down the hall hearing the, oh so unsubtle, moans and cries of the wife, when one of the doors bursts open and this very large, very hairy, very naked man comes barreling out. He beat on the door, screaming obscenities, and I just stood there dumbly with my mouth hanging open, but honestly, I had no idea what to do!
"Luckily, Madam Hecate showed up and she walked right up to that giant of a man, cool as a cucumber, you know how she is," I nod, smiling because she seems to need some sort of corroboration and because I had seen that almost totally imperturbable facade in action first hand. "Well, she walked right up to him and asked, 'Mr. So-and-so, what seems to be the problem?' and that grizzly bear of a man turned to her and yelled right in her face, 'THIS ISN'T WHAT I PAID FOR! YOU'RE TORTURING MY WIFE IN THERE!' After that, he turned back to the door, hollering his wife's name, her real name mind you, and Madam Hecate said to him, 'Pardon me, Mr. So-and-so, but my business is pleasure and I am an expert in my chosen field. Now, listen closely. Are those the cries of a woman being tortured?'"
I can't seem to help that my mouth falls open in amazement and I say (rather like a gossiping girl would), "No! She really said that to the guy?"
Sheridan nods and continues, "She totally did and I'll admit I thought that burly dude was going to murder her right then and there because he turned toward her, his hands held like this." She demonstrates by holding her hands out like claws in front of her and I can't help but be thoroughly engrossed in the story as well as captivated by her effervescence. Who knew monsters could be so entertaining?
"So, stupid me, I jumped in front of Madam Hecate to defend her but she just patted my shoulder and told me, 'Move aside child. I don't want you hurt by this oaf.' I wasn't sure what to do but one look at her face- she gave me that mom look, you know the one that says 'Don't argue or you'll be in deep trouble, birdsong'-and I did what I was told and moved behind her.
"So what did she do then?" I ask, now needing to know what happened to the hairy, naked husband.
"She looked at him and said, 'Mr. So-and-so, you really don't want to do this. Why don't you just go back to your own session and try to enjoy yourself?' Well, of course, he was having none of that and screamed at her again, 'LIKE HELL I WILL!' Seriously, that guy only had one volume and it was loud!
"Anyway, right as he was just inches from wrapping his hands around her throat, she snapped her fingers and he froze where he stood. It was really comical because it reminded me of a Tom and Jerry cartoon where Tom was frozen in place but his eyeballs still moved. Hairy, naked husband was just like that!"
I couldn't help but chuckle at that as Tom's googly eyeballs had always got Sammy and I giggling when we were growing up. "So, what then?" I prompted enthusiastically.
"Well after she froze him in place, she walked around him- and yes, his eyes followed her until she got out of his line of sight- and knocked on the door the wife was behind. The door didn't immediately open and Madam Hecate had to call out to... The employee, to open the door. When she did..." I burst out laughing.
"So you're telling me that not only was Mrs. McScreamerson getting her groove on with someone other than her husband, that someone was female?" Sheridan nods again and I let out a howl of laughter, "I'll bet you dollars to donuts that good ole hubby had never heard his wife enjoy his attentions like that! Oh, that's awesome!" I chuckle a minute more before I clear my throat and school my features. "Ok, sorry. Go on."
Smiling, she continues, "So when the employee opens the door, Madam Hecate calls to the wife, who comes to the door in nothing but a sheet, and tells her that her session is at an end. The wife wasn't too happy about that and begged to finish. Madam Hecate looked at her and told her, 'Fine, Mrs. So-and-so. I'll make you a deal. You may finish.' and then she looked at the husband with this hilariously disgusted expression on her face and finished by saying, 'However, I'm going to take this husband of yours, dress him, erase this place from his memory and put him in your vehicle. When you are done here, come to my parlor and we will have a little discussion about what happened here today.'
"That little woman jumped up and down like a kid in a candy store and ran back into her room, slamming the door in Madam Hecate's face in the process. I thought she'd be mad, Madam Hecate that is, but she just chuckled."
"Yeah, I get the feeling that she's got one helluva sense of humor." I say thinking of how she'd smiled when I'd flirted with her.
"Very true."
"So what happened to the husband?"
"The employee that had been with the husband brought out all his clothes and Madam Hecate snapped him back into them, thank God, and then she snapped her fingers again and our ghostly bodyguards picked him up and..."
I can't help but interrupt her again, "Come again? You have ghosts for bodyguards?"
"Yep. Can you think of anything better to guard you? I mean, they're incorporeal so they can't get hurt but threaten one of us employees and they can put a real hurtin' on you!"
"Makes sense." I reply in admiration, knowing first hand about ghostly abilities. Madam Hecate truly has this business down to a science. "So, go on. I promise not to interrupt again." she grins and continues.
"So the ghosts pick him up, he's still frozen like a statue of course, and take him to the parlor where Madam Hecate did her thing, I guess. I heard that she erased his memory and put him in the car and then chatted with the wife."
"How'd that go over?" I ask.
"Good, I'm guessing. The wife is still a client and I haven't seen hide nor hair, no pun intended, of the husband since." She smiles at me mischievously and I laugh, a good, deep belly laugh. It feels good to let go even if it's just for a moment. Things have been so tense for me and Sam lately, what with my deal and all, and I find I'm grateful that I can still laugh like this.
"Ahhh. That was one helluva story." I pause when a thought occurs to me and ask, "You won't get into trouble for telling it will you?" (Great! I'm actually worried for a monster! What the hell!)
"No. I kept the client's and employee's information confidential."
"What would happen if you did tell?" I'm genuinely interested to know how the employees handle their side of this confidentiality business.
"Oh, I had Madam Hecate put a tongue binding spell on me so I can't accidentally spill the beans on any client. I'm sure you noticed my pause when I was talking about the employee opening the door for Madam Hecate. That was the spell at work." She tips her head to the side pensively, "Come to think of it though, I think she might put all her employees under that spell but I definitely remember asking specifically for her to perform it on me. I have a tendency to run on incessantly and I didn't want one little slip of the tongue to end in my termination." The way she shudders after saying the word termination makes me think, once again, that death would be the only "termination" from this job.
"So, Mr. Page, what brings you here today?" She asks conversationally and I get the feeling that she's trying to get the show on the road.
So many words flood my mind, I'm here to forget about my demon deal, or Here to forget that my brother died bloody in my arms, or even I'm here to get a quick glimpse of a normal life that I will never have. Instead, I give a generic answer.
"I'm here for a taste of a supernatural lifestyle, what else?" The words sound ridiculous coming from my mouth and I wish I'd just settled on shrugging.
Sheridan seems to sense the false note in my tone with a look that says, C'mon, really? I look away from her face and think about telling her to mind her business and can we just get on with this.
Instead, I blurt out, "It's my dying wish." I immediately close my eyes, silently castigating myself for not just going with the mind your business line. I wonder, errantly, if she's one of those beings with the ability to see that I'm marked, like Madam Hecate. Too late to recant now, so I open my eyes and my gaze focuses on the woman's now stricken features.
"D-dying? Of what?" she asks, her voice quavering.
I stare at her for a moment, hating the look of pity in her eyes and on her face, and refuse to volunteer the information of my deal on the off chance that she can't see that I'm a marked man. "What do you think I'm dying of?"
Her head snaps to attention as if she's hearing some unspoken command. "It's not my place to speculate. I was just making small talk." she replies in a small voice and now it's my turn to pity her. If I'd just told her it was none of her business, we would now be forging ahead with my entertainment. Unfortunately for her, I can't let the matter rest. I have to know what she knows.
"Oh no, you started this conversation. C'mon. One guess." A thought occurs to me and I quickly tack it onto the end of my previous sentence. "Or can you just pluck the answer from my head?"
A look of annoyance passes across her face before she quickly schools her features. I'm a djinn, Mr. Page. I grant wishes, not read minds."
"Fair enough. Still, I'd like to hear your guess." I press and she nods, then sits quietly and studies me as if I'm a puzzle. I decide that she can't see the mark or else she probably would have said something to me already, at least, that's what I'm hoping. I feel something uncoil inside me and tension I was unaware of even having, slowly ebbs from my body. After a couple minutes pass, she finally speaks.
"Cancer?" she asks and her guess sounds better than having to tell about my demon deal so I run with it.
I nod my head and force my features into an appropriately solemn expression, which isn't hard considering. "Good guess." I echo her words from earlier.
Her eyelids drop, breaking eye contact, "I'm sorry. How long?"
"A little under a year." I answer quickly and I feel my throat constrict in panic at actually saying the words aloud. For some reason with this stranger, this monster, my situation seems so much more close and present.
She apologizes again.
"Not your fault." I reply. Not anyone's fault but mine because I couldn't live with my brother being dead. I bite the inside of my cheek hoping to divert my thoughts to the physical pain instead of the mental anguish.
"No, it's not, but I will try to make this experience as pleasant as possible for you." she pauses and looks as though she is gathering her courage, for what I'm not sure but she doesn't leave me in suspense for long.
"Is there.. Is there nothing your doctors can do for you?" Immediately, Sam's face pops into my mind and I know that he is diligently searching for a "cure" to my predicament as Sheridan and I speak.
"Apparently not." Definitely not, unless Sam wants to drop dead but I'll never let that happen.
"Does anyone else know that you're sick? Family? Friends?" I can see her genuine concern for me and I'm surprised and slightly touched by it. I debate telling her that yes, my brother knows, but I decide against it. The less personal this gets (too late!), the better for all of us.
"No. No one. I just got the news myself recently. Which reminds me, this condition of mine won't hurt you, will it? I mean, with you taking my blood?" Once again, it feels strange to worry about hurting a monster, even inadvertently and even though I don't actually have cancer, but I can't seem to stop myself.
"No. Human afflictions and diseases don't affect me. I don't even get colds." She smiles a tiny smile and I understand that she's trying to lighten the mood so I let her.
"Lucky girl. Every person on Earth would envy you that ability." I chuckle and she joins in.
"Before we begin, Mr. Page, I need to go get a couple of things. I'll be right back." I nod at her.
"I'm not going anywhere." I call out to her retreating form as she exits the room.
Once she's shut the door behind her, I stand and move to look out of her solitary window and gaze out over the now manicured lawn. Madam Hecate had said it was just a glamour that made the house look derelict. The lawn I'm looking at now is beautiful and I know that if it looks this good then she had done one hell of a job on that spell because what I had seen upon arrival had been overgrown and dead looking.
I continue to stare out the window letting my mind wander and my thoughts shift to Sam. I bet he's sitting in that motel room, talking to Bobby about my deal or researching ways on his own to get me out of my it. Scratch that, I know he is, stubborn man that he is and it occurs to me suddenly why I didn't want him with me on this "hunt". It's because, for me, this isn't a hunt and was never meant to be a one. It's an escape. I'm not sure when it changed from being a case to being a sort of sick saving grace for me, but I do know that it was before I'd even left Sam back at the shabby motel we were staying in. This was the reason I had to come alone. Sam would never understand. Hell, I barely understand myself, I just know I need this like a man in the dessert craves water.
The door behind me opens, pulling me out of my reverie, and Sheridan enters. I turn and notice the items in her hands. A sterile vacutainer for the blood collection, a pair of wrapped gloves and a couple of alcohol prep pads.
"Mr. Page are you ready to get started?" she asks and I simply nod. "Good. Have a seat in the chair by the window and I'll explain what's going to happen."
"Before we start, do you mind answering a few questions for me?" I inquire.
"I'll answer whatever I can."
"Who's the man in the pictures with you?" She stiffens almost imperceptibly and I'm sure I've, unwittingly, struck a nerve.
"What pictures?" She evades.
"The ones taped to your mirror."
"Oh..." her voice trails off and an uncomfortable silence takes its place.
"Look if you don't want to answer, I don't mind. I'm just curious." I tell her feeling as though I've crossed some forbidden boundary that I'm not supposed to.
"My father. Before he died." Her head is bowed and I feel sympathy well up inside me. I know how she feels having lost my dad only a year ago.
"I'm sorry for your loss." I say sincerely but don't tell her about my dad. Too much personal information has been shared already and I can hardly blame her for not wanting to talk about this with a stranger.
"Thank you." I'm eager to change the subject and clear away the sudden pall that has fallen over the room.
"So, what made you want to work for Madam Hecate?"
Her head slowly raises and she looks at me incredulously.
"What? What'd I say?" I ask, wondering if I had somehow stuck my foot in my mouth again?
"Nothing." she clears her throat and lowers her head again, toying with the packaging of her blood collection paraphernalia . "Ummmm... To answer your question I guess I'd need to give you some background on what it is to be a djinn." I nod, relieved that I haven't blundered so badly that she won't talk at all and wait for her to continue. She motions me over to the weird recliner that I'd been checking out earlier and I sit down and relax into it.
"Do you know anything about djinn?" she asks. I nod slowly, knowing that I'm treading dangerous waters and have to be careful how I answer so that I don't give away my hunter roots.
"I know that you're a genie and that you need blood to survive." My answer sounds innocent to my ears and could have easily been something that I'd gleaned from my dealings with Madam Hecate.
"Yes. This is all true. What you probably don't know is that most djinn live on the outskirts of society. They kidnap people and poison them with their, for lack of a better word, venom. It's this venom that causes a hallucinogenic coma and at the same time, targets the pituitary gland and the hypothalamus which produce endorphins. Endorphins, in addition to being a natural pain killer and giving the victims a sense of well-being, also sweeten the blood. The djinn will keep their victims alive in this comatose state for days while they drain them dry. This is why the victim is, for the most part, happy in their dream."
"Wow!" I comment and am truly surprised at her in-depth explanation. "Is that how you used to live before coming here?"
"No and yes. When I was with... my father, he and I would take a couple of people, trance them up and take only what we needed to survive. Afterwards, we would take them back to where we found them, revive them, which takes awhile to take effect, and leave them with maybe a bit of a hangover but really none the wiser. This was a much simpler system than just killing our victims. We didn't have to worry about body disposal- the guilt that went along with it-or moving from place to place to avoid detection. Most of the time, although there were rare occurrences, our victims and their families never missed them since we only took them for a couple hours. After my dad was killed..." Her voice breaks and I can almost feel the intensity of her sorrow.
"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to upset you." I don't try to hide my genuine sympathy for her loss and she nods, stoically acknowledging my apology as she continues.
"He was murdered by hunters. I managed to escape simply because I was out scouting for our next meal but I was there for the end of it." I tense at her answer. Shit! Shit! Shit! Did Sam and I kill her father? I think back to the face in her pictures. No! My djinn was bald and tatted up and had smelled of death and decay. Plus, the djinn who'd attacked me was draining every drop of blood from his victims. If Sheridan notices my slightly rigid posture she says nothing and I hope that she just attributes it to an intense reaction to her story. I release the breath I hadn't been aware I was holding and relax knowing I was safe.
"I went berserk when I saw them stab him over and over again while he pleaded for his life. I became a killer that night. All the precautions my father and I took over the years to preserve life just flew out the window and I attacked them. I didn't want any part of the men who had killed my father inside me so I didn't drain them. Instead, I beat them to death with a piece of iron pipe and then I took them to an abandoned lot in the middle of nowhere and burned their bodies. I then returned for my father and buried him in a secluded glade that we would hide in when things sometimes got a little hairy.
"After that, I kind of gave into the cravings. It was too hard to hunt down people, take only what I needed and return them to their normal lives. It reminded me of my father and I couldn't handle it alone. So, I became a vigilante of sorts. I hunted in the ghetto, only taking the dregs of humanity. Murders, thieves, drug users and trust me there were plenty of all three, but the killing... I wasn't raised like that, I couldn't separate myself from it and most of the time I just felt awful about hurting people no matter how bad they were. I'd try to hold out against the hunger as long as I could but inevitably I'd get so hungry that I had to hunt." I watch her as she stares down at her clenched hands and in that moment she reminds me of Lenore, the "vegetarian" vampire.
"So, you felt guilt?" my question is almost a statement of fact as I try to figure her out.
"Of course I felt guilt, I still do. Not for those hunters. As far as I'm concerned they got what they deserved. For all the other people I killed? Absolutely. I mean, who wants to be a monster?"She pauses opens her mouth and closes it just as quickly and I wonder what she wants to say.
"I slipped once when I went too long in between kills. I was mad with hunger, ravenous. My judgement was sorely affected and I took and drained a family man. He had two children and was happily married." Her voice chokes to a stop and I tense up thinking of the family who lost their husband and father too soon. There are too many parallels to be drawn between that family and my own so I just shove those thoughts far, far away. I can't hunt her due to my contract with Madam Hecate (not that I have a weapon that would work anyway) and I honestly don't want to hurt her. Right now, I mostly feel sympathy for her. Strange world I'm in now where I can feel bad for a monster.
"I went to his funeral, watched from a distance, in an attempt at some sort of penance but when I saw their misery... Saw what I'd done to that innocent, loving family, I remembered my father and I..." She breaks off again and I hold my tongue as she tries to collect herself.
"Madam Hecate found me holding a knife to my chest about to end my own life and talked me down then explained her business and asked if I wanted a position here. I accepted and have been here ever since. The benefits are good and I take care of my hunger now without killing anyone. It's win-win for me. Of course, I'd be happier if this wasn't my life but we are what we are and we do what we have to."
I nod my agreement at her last statement as I think of Sammy. I'd done what I had to do. I'd saved my little brother. Now, here I am, smack dab in the middle of monster central asking a "humanitarian" djinn to hop me up on some good hallucinogenics so that I can go to my happy place again. A place where my mom and Jess are still alive. A place where Sam gets to continue his education at Stanford. Where I can be with Lisa and raise Ben as my own.
This time around, there would be no sickly looking girl to distract me, no one for me to have to save. No dead, desiccated bodies hanging in the closet indicating that there was something terribly amiss. Most of all, I would not be thinking of the deadline hanging around my neck. This is purely a selfish venture and I'm going to throw myself into it with reckless abandon.
"Are you ready to do this?" Sheridan asks me and I notice that while I've been daydreaming she's been busy readying her equipment for my blood collection.
I nod but feel the urge to find out if she's ok. "Hey, you alright? That was some pretty heavy stuff you just told me. Do you need to, I don't know, take a minute?" she smiles sadly.
"I'm alright now. Truth be told, I think I must have needed to get that off my chest. Thank you for listening and not judging too harshly."
"Sure." That's me, Dean Winchester, monster counselor extraordinaire.
Wow! What the hell is happening to me? I kind of miss when things were black and white. Find a monster and just gank it. Now, monsters have feelings and some of them even seem to have a conscience. What. The. Hell? I can't bring myself to truly care either way right now because I'm minutes away from seeing my family, well, the perfect dream version of them, again.
"Ok, here's what's going to happen. I'll insert the needle to start collecting your pint of blood. Then, I'll put you into a trance. I'm going to set a timer for two hours. When time is up, I'll wake you and then you'll stay here and rest for about thirty minutes after your session. I'll get you a drink while you get your equilibrium back from both the blood loss and the trance. When you're ready to leave, take a pamphlet with you."
"Why do I have to hang around for thirty minutes after my session is done? And what do I need another pamphlet for?" I can't be taking back any evidence that Sam could use to figure out where I've been.
Sheridan smiles indulgently at me as if she can hear my thoughts. "It's a blood donation pamphlet from The Red Cross so that you"ll have an alibi if you need to hide this from anyone. As for lingering thirty extra minutes, it's a safety precaution that Madam Hecate insists upon and that I adhere to wholeheartedly. You don't want to get woozy and wrap your car around a tree do you?"
I shake my head and wonder if I'm ever going to stop being surprised by how well thought out this whole business is. A blood donation pamphlet to explain away the needle mark in my arm. Recuperation time from the trance and the blood loss. "Who knew a witch could be so benevolent?" I chuckle as Sheridan wraps a tourniquet around my bicep.
"I'm not so sure it's benevolence as much as it is good business sense. If clients get injured, word gets out, business goes down hill... You get the picture." Sheridan explains while poking my inner elbow looking for a vein.
"Loud and clear." I look down to see that she has already inserted the the needle, "Man, you're good. You could have been a nurse..." I let the sentence trail off seeing as the next words out of my mouth were going to be "if you weren't a monster." I don't think saying that would go over too well.
"You ready? Time is ticking away." She warns me as she releases the tourniquet from my arm but smiles at my compliment of her skills.
"Let's do this!" I blurt out. Sheridan's eyes suddenly glow blue and the ghostly hallucinogenic tattoo grows up her arm and leaps to life from her hand. I close my eyes as she touches my face in a gentle caress and then, I drift away.
A/N: The phrase "Big trouble, Birdsong" comes from a commercial in the the 80's for Liberty National Bank in Kentucky, which no longer exists. I did not know this till I looked it up. My original point of reference for this comes from having my own mother spout this at me when I was being less than angelic. :)