Chapter 1 to The Mark

"I Was Just Admiring Your Lovely Kitchen, Sir"

Author: Wakingsparrow

Author's Note: To forewarn you, the time frame is going to jump around at first, but I swear it will all come together. Please let me know what you think and thank you for taking time to read!

"No, that's not possible!" A past forty and well manicured man snapped out at Dean, adhering rapidly to skepticism. Florescent beams highlighted the clammy crests of his features as he searched for the nearest escape from his own 'home and gardens' kitchen. He was a dentist, and not one of those cheating sorts that drilled holes in your other teeth during you numbed molar filling as job security. Clean cut. Looked five ways at four way stops. Pulled the thin bones out of fish before cooking them for his family type.

"You…you're…you're a fucking lunatic!" The man yelped wildly. He backed into his stainless steal refrigerator and shakily white knuckled a 5 inch steak knife as far as he could in front of him as if for his life. If Dean didn't have a little Sammy entity in the back of his head shooting him a warning glare, he sure as hell would have laughed dryly. He could probably just pound a fist down on the island or bitch slap the guy's hands and the flimsy silverware would somersault across the floor tile.

Dean's initial disclosure to the man of his situation, which occurred about 3 minutes ago, had run more along the lines of 'well, might as well put it to the dude straight'. Since then he'd determined he should look into better approaches. Breaking anything gently wasn't really his forte, he figured.

"You've been feeling different lately, haven't you? You know some thing is up. Increased paranoia, sweats, nightmares, resentment…" These are probably symptoms he's been feeling…probably.

The hunter advanced faux-leisurely with empty hands held up as if to calm the confrontation. Really, because who helped compose a man out of hysteria better than the stranger who'd been discovered lurking about his home and had just told him the most bizarre thing he'd ever heard. Sure, clearly he'd see reason. "Look, I'm telling you everything will be fine, I can help." It came out about as lamely as it truly sounded in his head. Yeah. Sam was way better at this thing.

"I…I'm going to call the cops, you hear? You just stay back, I'm not afraid to use this!" The near-to-butter knife equivalent quivered comically with each desperate and forceful pronunciation of the words.

Dean sincerely resisted the urge to sigh and wipe a weary hand over his aching temple, but he couldn't fight the movement. You'd think after a lifetime of trying to explaining the craziest sounding things to people, he'd have it down to a tee.

These were the worst damn circumstances imaginable. With him, it had always been sort of a 'cut and dry' state of affairs. You kill people: you're bad. You're a creepy kid that stares at you without blinking for a solid minute: 99.9% chance is you're bad. You can dissipate into smoke or can grow claws and an extra set of pointy teeth at any time ever: you're definitely freakin' bad. Nevertheless, if there was one thing his puppy eyed giant of a brother had educated him on in the last few years, it was that nothing was as it seems initially.

Some complication would inevitably come up where Sam would huff at him and shift his mammoth feet briefly before giving earnest consonances or apologies to the surrounding company. Later he'd chew out his elder, shorter brother in the Impala for being an insensitive or narrow-minded dick. Other times, his younger sibling wouldn't have to say anything at all. It was dead silence that drowned out the hum of the tires against asphalt harmonized with the variable purr of the engine that did it. That was enough to dredge up the neon flashing question…what if what they had done that day had been completely and utterly wrong?

The doctor in front of him this evening didn't quite match Dean's orthodox standards.

This was a family man. The nastiest thing on his record was a few speeding tickets and a bust at some hippie music deal when he was 18. He sent one hundred dollars a month to the library and volunteer occasionally at a nursing home. None of this was his fault. He was an alright guy overall, all men make mistakes.

That thought brought Dean to pause for a moment. Given what he knew at the present, all of this could very well be this man's fault. He was in fact, a good father; Dean had almost envied the whole scene of 'father with older son football time and girl advice', 'father with younger son lessons on how fly a kite or make a killer PB and J'. He'd spied on all of it during recon missions in the Impala and the man he was stalking felt no obligation to hide his life. The dentist grilled out with neighbors. He laid flowers at his dead wife's grave. He folded his clothes neatly and ironed his suits. He watched the eleven o'clock news, had a drink of scotch, and went to bed.

However, it took far more digging to find the dark sides of people than the good. Some of the worst, most foul creatures in the world kept up good appearances. Rumors couldn't confirm that the doctor wasn't exactly innocent, but they were helping the hunter find the puzzle pieces that locked together. If Dean didn't figure out just how off the rails he was, there may be no way to stop a string of events from setting off like a line of firecrackers.

Dean inched closer to the individual who was set to hyperventilate and appeared to be making a serious attempt at dissolving into the fridge. The Winchester was a foot away before the knife had rattled out of the hand of the slighter man.

"Tesner right? William Tesner?"

Dean tipped his head down slightly, leaned against the island to square with him, and left a cushion of space to ease his companion. Determined eyes met alarmed ones, but they gave away that they weren't full of malice…or disbelief. This man had known something was changing, maybe just not what.

"I'm not crazy and neither are you. I need you to trust me… you need to listen right now." Trying to pick the right words wouldn't even cover a friggin' toothpick of it. "If you want to save your two boys from yourself, you have to do exactly as I say."

This was a situation even Dean would agree was smack in the middle of gray.

to be continued...