Chapter 15 – said the spider to the fly
Friday morning
Things were different.
Things were different, and Gabriel didn't know why. He could feel Dean asleep inside him, but Dean felt stronger somehow. Not as weak. Gabriel remembered bright blue eyes and dark curly hair, but there hadn't been anyone in the room with him last night, had there?
"Sleep, Gabriel. You are not the one I need."
Gabriel sat with his back jammed into the corner, and he didn't react when the door slot was pulled open. He glanced at the opening.
…eyes in the walls…
He recognized that fat prick Weddington. Beck was out there too. The third person was a woman with red hair. He could see her face, but he couldn't see much else.
For a moment or two Gabriel couldn't identify what he was feeling. His hands tightened around his knees. He never did put a name to the emotion, but what he was feeling was rage. Rage that was dulled by the drugs inside him, but a killing rage all the same.
I want to kill you, Gabriel thought as he stared at her, intense and unblinking. Want to put my hands around your throat and squeeze until you turn blue and die, bitch.
He was tired. Sick and tired, and it was all too much. Gabriel wanted his pills. Wanted, needed, there wasn't much difference anymore. He wanted Beck to touch him, to take him, and make him forget about all of this. He wanted to forget that Dean was inside him.
He wanted all that, but in life people rarely get what they want.
"Can I speak to him?" Deputy Katherine Hudak used her most official voice. Wearing her uniform and driving up first thing in the morning was the best thing, the only thing to do in this situation.
Dr. Weddington shook his head. "I wouldn't advise it."
"Why not?"
The good doctor pushed his glasses further back on his nose and huffed. Katherine knew the tone behind it: Stupid civilians. None of you understand what we're dealing with here. "John Doe 317 has an alter named Dean. That fits with what you told us about him. This…Dean…is violent and dangerous."
"Really? He's on his meds, isn't he?"
She could tell by the way slight sneer on Beck's face that working for him would have been pure hell. He obviously disliked women with authority. Probably women period. The uniform and the gun on her hip didn't change any of that. Beck shrugged. "Yes, he is. But that hasn't stopped Dean from emerging. He's destroyed property and attacked my men. I can show you that mess he made of his cell in Ward C if you like."
"I'd still like to talk to him," Katherine said firmly. Maybe the uniform would do the trick…
"No, ma'm." Weddington said politely. "Unless you have a court order, our concern for your safety and the safety of everyone here overrules any informal request you might make."
"I see." Katherine leaned down, and as she stared into the cell the man inside turned his head to stare right back at her.
He looked dangerous. Feral, somehow, despite the padded room around him, the white patients' scrubs he wore, and the slightly glazed look in those dark green eyes.
Hudak was hardly aware of it, but her right hand settled on the butt of her gun.
Beck caught the motion. So did Weddington.
"All right." Katherine blinked as she straightened up. "Thank you for your time, gentlemen. I'll relay the news to his family."
Weddington nodded. "Mr. Beck will see you out."
Hudak nodded and followed Beck out. She had Agent Matthews' cell phone number. Calling him would be the next step.
Five minutes later, Hudak pulled out of the visitor's parking lot and jerked her cruiser to a halt. She sat behind the wheel and stared at the man in the crosswalk in front of her.
FBI Agent David Matthews was dressed in a tan jacket, blue jeans and a grey v necked shirt.
Four years later, and he still looked young and wounded. He stood in front of the car, and the look on his face was just like a deer in the headlights. The look that flickered in his eyes was something dark and somehow desperate.
Please, that look said. Please…
Katherine didn't know exactly what that silent plea was for, but she thought she understood. She looked him right in the eyes and nodded.
Matthews looked relieved. Those eyes of his glistened, with tears, perhaps, and when he nodded at her his lips curved upwards in a slight smile.
Katherine nodded back. It's all right, she thought at him. Go.
She waited until he walked across, disappeared into the main building. Hudak even sat there patiently as some of the nurses passed too.
As she turned onto the road in front of the hospital she pulled over to the shoulder and sat there. Her vision clouded up. She knew she was crying, could feel the tears rolling down her face, and none of that mattered. She didn't know how long she sat there, staring up at Riley's picture taped to the sun visor. Time didn't matter. Not any more.
Truth to tell she stayed by the side of the road for an hour. That was time enough for everyone concerned in the matter of Dean Winchester and Gabriel Bender to take their places. God works in mysterious ways, Missouri Moseley had said. John Winchester understood, or at least he thought he did. Missouri didn't mention that the ways are not necessarily good or fair.
Sometimes what happens can only be described as a clusterfuck.
All Katherine could think about was Riley, gone missing all these years. It was good to see that Dean's family would at least know where he was. It was the not knowing that killed a person.
Hudak was wrong about that, too.
The truck rumbled past her on the highway, and the growl of the engine made Katherine's eyes widen.
She remembered.
Remembered something from the missing persons' reports…some of the people she'd interviewed stated they had heard something making a loud growling sound.
Maybe it was nothing. Hudak watched as the truck continued down the road, and then she pulled out and followed it from a safe distance.
"Okay," McCandless whimpered softly. "This is it. Nobody ever comes out this way. Everyone uses the front." Her arms and legs shook. She sat in the truck, wedged in between the two men, and she stared at the back gate to Sweetbriar, and all she could think of was she never thought she'd ever see that place again.
"Oh please, oh Christ, please let me go. Please…"
The slightly smaller hillbilly slapped her upside the head. "Not until Pa gets here. Now shut the hell up, bitch."
They filled out paperwork, including the I-9s and the tax forms. It was a done deal, apparently, and all this was just paper for the personnel folder. The employment application was so brief it was ridiculous: one sheet, and the back of the form was blank.
After ten minutes the orderly grinned at them brightly. "Gonna give you boys the grand tour. Follow me, gents."
"Where's Beck?" Sam rumbled.
The dude laughed. He was tall, solidly built, with a white crew cut. "Oh, our fearless leader is around. He's the last stop on the tour. Said for me to give you the VIP treatment."
They started out in Ward D. The patients there were not heavily sedated. Voluntary commitments, Sam thought. They sat in the sun room, played checkers and watched television. Each one had their own separate rooms. It seemed nice enough, but a cage was still a cage, after all.
Sam knew in his gut that Dean was not in this ward.
It didn't seem right. Two trucks at the back gate. They hadn't gotten turned around, and these folks didn't seem to be lost. Katherine was careful enough to close the door to the cruiser softly. She could hear men's voices just beyond the trees and the brush, and what sounded like a woman's voice.
Hudak crouched down lower as walked up to the bushes.
She saw the girl a second or so later.
She was a visitor. Had to be. She was clean enough, with her long brown combed hair and that bright yellow dress. Maybe she'd wandered away from the main building.
Hudak pulled her hand away from her gun. It was a mistake.
The blade that flashed through the air was a silvery blur. She barely felt it as her carotid artery was slashed wide open. Katherine Hudak staggered forward a few more feet, then her knees buckled and she collapsed. Her blood gushed out onto the ground, collected around her body like the running water of a small stream.
Missy Bender stepped back. She'd lost interest. And besides, she hated cops, even lady ones.
Katherine blinked slowly. The world drew away from her one final time, but even so something gently brushed against her forehead.
She looked up at the man who knelt beside her, and she managed to smile.
Dying wasn't so bad, then.
"Riley," Katherine breathed.
Riley Hudak smiled. "Hi, Sis. Time to come home now."
Ward C was more of the same. The air seemed peaceful enough. Sam and John's escort didn't say much, not until they walked into Ward B.
"Right now you're just about scrapping the bottom of the barrel, gentlemen," Crew Cut chortled. "There's some real nut jobs in here. You ain't seen nothing yet. We need to really keep these in here in line. You gotta keep your foot on the back of their necks at all time."
"I hear you," John drawled. "A little ass kicking never hurt anybody."
Jerry pulled out his knife and slipped it between the large woman's ribs. She looked surprised as she stared down at herself. Her lower half and both legs were slimed with blood.
Pa growled. "Quit playin' with that bitch, will you?"
Jerry pushed the knife in again, deeper. He pulled it out as she slumped to the ground. He wiped the blade on her pants leg, looked up at Pa, and nodded. Dead was dead, all right.
Pa glared at Lee and Jerry. "Get the guns and the duffels. If we have to kill every damn body in this place, we will."
Crew Cut grinned even wider.
Sam hated what came out of his mouth next. "How many freaks you got in this ward?"
Whitey shrugged. "Twenty five. Same as Ward A. That's the greater snake pit. B is the lesser. Now you got some real prizes in there, lemme tell ya. 'Course if you bang 'em up a little too much, we got a hospital. Show you that one later."
Sam saw Dean everywhere, in every cell. His mind jittered from one scenario after another. He saw Dean pale and quiet, sitting in the corner of a padded room, knocking the back of his head against the padded walls, keeping time with his heartbeat. He saw Dean lying drug dazed in a cell somewhere, his body wrapped neatly, firmly inside a straightjacket, his wide green eyes blank and unfocused, staring at something only he could see. Better living through chemistry? Sam didn't think so/
John played the macho man to the hilt, and Sam hated him for it. He kept his rage to himself, because it wouldn't do for Elroy McGillicuddy and Sam Wesson to give it away that they knew each other.
The worst part was not knowing. Sam saw empty cells, and as they walked through he could tell John was thinking the same thing: Where the hell is Dean?
Twenty minutes later Crew Cut walked over to an exit door. "Final stop, fellas." He held the door open wide. There was nothing but trees and grass out there. Crew Cut pointed one beefy arm at the top of the hill. "There's a small pond just beyond that rise. You walk straight up there, and you can't miss it. The boss is up there, and he wants to show you something really special."
Abraham Bender crept up behind the brush, smoothly as if he'd hunted here all his life. Being here was a lot like home. He could imagine stalking someone through these trees.
There was a pond over there, right in the clearing past the trees, just below the top of the hill. Abraham stared at the two men who stood together, waist deep in the water.
Thank you Lord, Abraham thought. Thank you for bringing him back to us.
"Gabriel," Missy moaned quietly.
They didn't say very much on the way up. Each man was alone inside their heads with their own thoughts of guilt and regret. That wasn't much use to Dean, and John and Sam certainly knew that.
"He's here, Sam," John rumbled softly. "We'll find him." They crested the top of the hill and looked down at the pond.
Everything stopped. Sam couldn't remember whether he breathed or not. He must have. He couldn't think. All he could do was stare at the scene in front of him, frozen in shock.
Nathan Beck stood in the middle of the pond. He was bare-chested, and so was the man who stood next to him.
John and Sam watched as the two men kissed, deeply, slowly.
Beck's made Dean his pet, Meg gloated in Sam's memory.
Beck carded that shoulder length sandy blond hair with his fingers, ran his fingers down that broad back. Mine, that gesture said. All mine.
Sam couldn't look away. He couldn't pretend. He was pretty sure that the look of pure shock on John's face mirrored his own.
Oh, wait until you see him. Wish I could hang around for that one…
It was one thing to hear about this. Quite another to actually see it.
"Dean," Sam whispered.
The man with the sandy blond hair turned and stared at Sam. There was no hint of recognition in those wide green eyes.
Okay guys, that's it for this week. If Real Life permits I'll post another chapter on Tuesday. If not, I will post on Monday and Friday the week after Christmas. Thank you all for your support, and have a safe and Merry Christmas!
