Skin
"Alright, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." Dean continued rambling on his plans for the drive. He exited the car to go and get the gas pump going. He looked at me struggling to fill up the bike I'd finally picked up from Bobby's. "Need help with that, sweetheart?"
"I'm doing just fine." I forced the nozzle in. time to wait. Ignoring Dean's ramblings on where to go next, I glanced into what Sam was doing.
"I need a Palm Pilot." I marveled at the first remotely functioning cell phone in Sam's hands. Sam lowered it down enough for me to watch him go over his emails with a stylus. "Wow, you have quite a few friends." I opened the door to the Impala and got into the driver's side.
Sam chuckled. "I know. It's quite handy." he passed it to me. "You wanna try it out?"
I nodded and held the thick bulky device in my hands. "Ancient cell phones suck."
Sam frowned. "This is the latest model–"
"Hush. This," I passed him my iPhone. "Is real technology."
"Can't argue with that…" Sam tapped the screen, watching the wallpapers change with each touch. I watched him unlock the phone and swipe in between the pages.
"Delete anything and you're dead." It had pictures of my family, and songs and videos that I couldn't live without.
"Sam wears women's underwear. Sharon has a dick."
"Shut up, Dean." Sam and I chimed together and buried our noses in each other's devices.
The response speed of the thing sucked. But it had a calendar and an email app. Man, I seriously needed to buy it. "We should get one of these, Dean. Also, we've been listening. We're just kinda busy."
"Busy doing what?" Dean scoffed.
"Sam has a bunch of emails." I blinked at the huge thread of emails between him and Jessica. "You wanna read this in private?"
He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, but you can read this one." He handed me my phone back and used his stylus to click on a certain email from Rebecca Warren.
"Women?" I teased. "What happened to Jessica?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Rebecca is just a friend."
"Is she hot?" Dean poked his head in through the window.
Sam and I ignored the comment. "I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."
Dean shook his head. "Dude, what kind of people are you hangin' out with?"
"No, man, I know Zack. He's no killer." Sam sighed. "Something's wrong." I knew this case. It was the Skinwalker episode where Dean legally died for the first time.
"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you."
"Dean, that was low." I glared at him.
"They're in St. Louis. We're goin'." Sam put the Palm Pilot away.
Dean chuckled as he put away the gas pump. "Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem." He moved on to do the same for mine. What a gentleman.
"It is our problem. They're my friends." Sam glared.
"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam." Dean groaned.
"You would do the same if you had friends." I pushed the door open and headed back to my bike.
He shrugged. "Like you have any real friends." Well he didn't have to say it like that. He sighed. "Fine, let's go."
Having my own ride was paradise. And MP3 players with their insane battery life kept me alive for the whole duration. Wearing a helmet was a pain and I had to wear a pair of leggings to keep my legs from getting frostbite, but the freedom was worth it.
Five hours later, the Impala finally parked in front of a house. I slid my bike in between it and the sidewalk and shook my hair out of the helmet.
Dean and Sam got out of the car, and I swung my leg over the bike. "This it?" I glanced at the small cozy house.
"That's her address." Sam checked once more before walking up to the front door.
A pretty cute girl opened the door with a huge smile. "Oh my God, Sam!"
"Well, if it isn't little Becky." Sam wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap." She laughed and pulled away.
"I got your email." Sam said in a little more serious tone.
"I didn't think that you would come here." She gave a small smile. "Who're they?"
"Dean." Dean stepped forward for a handshake. "Older brother."
"Sharon." It was my turn. "Sister in law."
"Hi." Rebecca smiled.
"Hi." How in the world did you talk to people?
"We're here to help. Whatever we can do." Sam provided. Thank God for a smart, sociable person.
"Come in." Rebecca invited us in with a smile.
I walked into the house. It smelled fresh. There was a scent diffuser in the corner of the room. I should buy one for those musty motel rooms. I held back a sigh. My shopping list was forever growing.
"Nice place." Dean commented.
"It's my parents'. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free." Rebecca explained. Sam followed her into the kitchen to get snacks.
I took it upon myself to explore the homeliness of the small home. Dean followed me around as I examined the decorations. There was a time when I'd thought I could build a home in this world with bright wallpaper and fragile vases filled with fresh flowers. Have a leather couch, with a giant TV in the corner. Pictures of myself and my friends, and my found family framed all over the walls that would be littered with posters of bands and homemade artwork.
"You okay?"
I ripped my eyes away from the frame on the coffee table of the happy family of four and nodded to Dean. That picture felt like a haunting. It reminded me too much of the life I'd left behind.
"We got beer." Rebecca walked into the living room with four bottles.
"Oh, uh, Sharon doesn't drink." Sam piped.
"I can take her share." Dean offered. I hit his foot with mine.
"Oh," Rebecca looked at me awkwardly. "Um, could I get you something else?"
"Water is fine."
She handed me a plastic water bottle on the table. It was still sealed.
"So, tell us what happened." Sam said as we all sat down.
Rebecca took a swig. "Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing." Despite the alcohol, she started crying. "So, he called 911, and the police— they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time." She cleared her throat. "The police— they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight."
"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack's house." Sam offered.
"We could." Dean nodded in agreement.
"Why? I mean what could you do?" Rebecca looked at us with despair.
"Well, me, not much." Sam pointed to Dean. "But Dean's a cop." Good one, Sam.
Dean laughed to hide his surprise. "Detective, actually."
"Really?" Rebecca started looking hopeful. "Where?"
"Bisbee, Arizona." Dean looked proud of his fake identity. "I'm off duty right now." I stiffened when his hand landed across my shoulder. "Long deserved vacation."
"You guys, it's so nice to offer." Rebecca looked hesitant. "But I just— I don't know."
"Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent." Sam tried to nudge Rebecca to look up.
"Okay," Rebecca nodded. "I'm gonna go get the keys."
Dean removed his hand from my shoulder and leaned forward on his knees to fight with Sammy again. "Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shot with your friends."
"Look, Zack and Becky need our help." Sam tried to reason.
"I just don't think this is our kind of problem."
"Then why did you willingly agree with the lie?" I pointed out.
"Oh, come on."
"Besides, two places at once?" Sam continued his case. "We've looked into less."
Dean sighed and leaned back. He had nothing to say to that.
"Sammy wins again."
Rebecca looked to Dean. "You're sure this is okay?"
"Yeah. I'm an officer of the law." Fake officer of the law.
Rebecca unlocked the door and we all filed in. I ducked under the police tape, and it was like a whole other world compared to the freshly mowed lawn outside with flowers just starting to bloom. Inside there was blood splattered on everything. Furniture, walls… nothing had been spared.
Sam paused before walking inside. "Bec, you wanna wait outside?"
"No. I wanna help."
"Tell us what the police said."
"Well, there's no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The Lawyers– they're already talking about plea bargain." She broke into tears again. "Oh God…"
Sam grabbed her shoulders to ground her. "Look, Bec, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?"
She shook her head, but after a moment she seemed to remember something. "Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes– Zack's clothes. The police– they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed."
I jumped when a loud barking started out of nowhere. I lifted the blinds to see where the sound was coming from. "You know, that used to be the sweetest dog." Rebecca said from next to me.
"What happened?" Dean joined us at the window.
"He just changed."
"Do you remember when he changed?"
"I guess around the time of the murder." Dean's eyes clouded in thought as he walked away from the window.
"What's going on?" Rebecca shuddered. She looked to me for comfort. Now, I was the worst at giving comfort. But I offered her a supportive smile anyway. "He was the sweetest brother. You know– we used to argue all the time, and we would throw pillows at each other, but this… he would never do something like this." I could sympathise with her. I was the same with my own brother.
"I'm really sorry." I told her. "We're gonna do our best."
She sniffled a little more and mouthed 'thank you'. We stood by the window for a little bit. "Do you see this kind of thing a lot?" She asked suddenly.
"Huh?" I was confused.
"Like– you seem so calm around all of this. Is it because Dean is a cop?"
I lied. "Well, Dean tells me a lot of stories. And I can kind of visualise it enough. He gets very descriptive."
She nodded. "Must be nice to have nerves of steel." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'm just a shaking leaf in all of this." she laughed dryly.
"Hey, Rebecca. That's normal." I tried to calm her down. "It's okay to panic around this stuff. No one here blames you for that. But you're doing your best to help. And that's what matters. You just have to try and stay strong, okay?"
She pressed her lips tightly. "Okay."
Dean came sauntering over. "So, the tape. The security footage– you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, 'cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction."
Rebecca gave us a sheepish grin. "I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop." Dean and Sam gave her an impressed look. "I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."
"Awesome." Dean whispered under his breath.
The four of us were huddled at Rebecca's computer at her parents' house, watching the tape play.
"Here he comes." Rebecca pointed to a figure on the security footage.
"22:04, that's just after ten." Dean read the timestamp. "You said, time of death was about 10:30."
"Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert." Rebecca threw her hands in defeat. "He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with." There was a flash of light in Zack's eyes, or rather the skinwalker, on the footage.
"Do you think I could have another water?" I asked Rebecca.
Sam seemed to catch on. "A couple of beers too, please."
"Oh, sure." Rebecca went to stand up.
"And maybe some sandwiches?" Dean added.
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "What do you think this is, Hooters?" But she gave a laugh and walked away into the kitchen.
"So, what is it?" Dean asked me and Sam.
"Look." Sam replayed the footage. "His eyes."
Dean leaned in closer. "Well, maybe it's just a camera flare."
"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen." Sam refuted. "You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul."
"Right." Dean hummed in thought.
"Remember that dog that was freakin' out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack's, something that looks like him but isn't him."
"Like a Doppelganger."
"Yeah. It'd sure explain how he was two places at once."
"5:00 AM is a little too early." I rubbed my eyes. I'd been dragged out of bed at 5:00 AM, and what for?
"Come on, Sharon." Sam said.
I groaned and rolled out of the car.
"Alright, so what are we doin' here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean sighed.
"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer goin' in, but not comin' out."
"So, he came out the back door?" Dean tapped my shoulder to keep me awake.
"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue."
"'Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside."
"So why at 5:30 AM are we here?" I yawned. God, I was sleepy. I hated this. I'd only gotten 4 hours and I was not at a functioning level yet.
I was too sleepy to follow Sam as he looked up at telephone poles. I took a seat on Baby's hood.
"Blood. Somebody came this way."
"Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here." Dean remarked.
"Ah!" I squeaked when a bunch of colorful lights and loud sirens blinded me and deafened me.
"Let's go check it out." Sam ushered me into the car.
"Maybe someone fell off their bed or something." I groaned. Were we seriously doing this this early? I needed my beauty sleep.
As it turned out, no. It wasn't someone falling off their bed. It was someone being arrested for another murder.
I watched Dean get out of the car and start questioning people. "What happened?"
"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her." someone from the crowd answered.
"I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy." someone else said.
I watched as the man got shoved into the police car and taken away in handcuffs. Was he even the one that killed his wife? Hah! Of course not. It was a skinwalker.
"Feeling more awake?" Sam cracked a smile when I stood on my tippy toes to peer over the edge of the other garbage can.
"Kind of." I held back a yawn.
"Hey." Dean had gotten back from taking a tour of the front and backyard. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"
"Yeah." Sam looked almost happy to have gotten it right.
"Definitely our kind of problem."
"What'd you find out?"
"Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene. Heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."
"So, he was two places at once."
"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house. Police think he's a nutjob."
"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way."
"Could be the Same thing doin' it, too."
"Shapeshifter?"
Dean shrugged.
"Something that can make itself look like anyone?"
"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."
"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifter prowlin' the neighborhood."
"Let me ask you this– in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" What? Skinwalkers can fly? Since when? Or was this something that the TV show had missed?
"Not that I know of."
"I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way." Sam pointed in a direction.
"Just like your friend's house."
"Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared."
Oh, so it wasn't about flying. It was about disappearing. Wasn't the skinwalker hiding in the sewage pipes?
"Well, there's another way to go." Dean said. I looked down on where I was standing. A manhole cover. I hopped off the thing. "Down."
I officially hated manholes. I held the flashlight with a couple of fingers as I slowly made my way down the manhole. I could feel my hands chafing at the roughness of the rusty metal rungs and my shoes kept threatening to slip off the stupid rungs that were damp with moisture from all the pipes running through the tunnels.
Manholes sucked. I'd heard so many horror stories of workers forgetting to close manholes or the cities opening them during floods and then people falling inside or drowning to their deaths inside them. And man, they stank. Like, dude, even if there were rats living inside these things, why the hell did it stink so bad? I finally understood my mom's relentless nagging to open up the window to let in fresh air and sunlight.
I leapt off the final rung. Finally. And as much as I wanted to take a deep breath after climbing 20 feet underground I chose not to. The stench was overbearing even for my terrible olfactory senses.
"I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around." Sam commented.
"I think you're right. Look at this." Dean pointed to a pile of skin and blood on one of the pipes.
"Ewww." I cringed away in disgust. "My friend called that lasagna."
"Your friend?" Sam looked confused.
"Who?" Dean demanded.
"Uh." How was I going to tell them that this was a comment of a friend who lived in the other world and watched the first season after I screamed about the show? "He sent me a picture of it. Looked like lasagna. I had to agree."
"Oh," Sam realised. "From your world. Where this is a TV show."
"They showed you all that?" Dean nodded in amusement. "Are they even allowed to show such things?"
"There's nothing my friends and I didn't watch or know about by the time we were adults." I couldn't help but smile at the memories. "We couldn't exactly tell our parents though. So we would pretend like the TV was buffering when they walked in. Or switch tabs." Dean walked a little ahead of us.
"How did you pretend that the TV is buffering?" Sam fell in step beside me.
"We had streaming services. You could watch whatever show you wanted whenever you wanted."
"Huh. And you guys watched them on your laptop?"
"We connected the laptop to the TV."
"Wow."
"There's more lasagna here." Dean called a ways down the tunnel.
Great. So it was just going to be called lasagna now?
"Is this from his victims, then?" Sam got closer to the next sample.
"You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape– maybe it sheds."
"That is sick." Sam and I nodded in agreement.
"Well, now that we know it's a shapeshifter." Dean turned back around. "Let's go get our weapons and kill this son of a bitch."
"Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it." Dean handed me a round of silver bullets.
"Silver bullet to the heart." Sam accepted his set.
I unloaded the iron round in my handgun and replaced it with the silver.
"That's right." Dean loaded up his own gun.
Sam's cell phone rang. "This is Sam… We're near Zack's, we're just checkin' some things out… What are you talkin' about?… Why would you do that? … Bec–"
Dean and I watched with concern as his face fell and he retreated away from us. Poor baby.
"I-i'm sorry, but–" He clenched his jaw and lowered the phone from his ear.
"Sam, I'm sorry." I slowly walked up to him.
"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just– it'd be easier if–"
"If I was like you two." Sam looked down at his shoes.
"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people." Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder. "But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig– it ain't without perks."
Sam eyed the gun in his hands and then the ones tucked into mine and Dean's jeans. He let out a long breath and straightened up. "Let's go."
As I was halfway down the manhole, I suddenly remembered. Rebecca. Wasn't she attacked in her home by Dean? Well, not Dean, but the shapeshifter in Dean's skin? And then the thing became Rebecca to attack Sammy. Wow. What a mess. But maybe I could solve that mess.
"I need to get back up." I called out to Sam who was above me on the rungs.
"What? Why?" Dean said from down below.
"Because. There's something I need to do!"
Save Rebecca from getting hurt and making sure that she knew that Sam and Dean were really here to help her.
"You wanna go alone?" Sam said from atop.
"Well– yeah. I mean I'll be fine." I jumped off the last rung and let Sam finish the climb down so I could get back up.
"Seriously?" Dean reached out to grab my hand. "You wanna take on a shapeshifter alone?"
"Well, silver bullet to the heart." I smiled and waved the gun in front of him. "I'll be okay." I sure as hell hoped so. "I'll be up in the city, making sure it doesn't hurt anyone else."
Dean stared at me for a moment before nodding. "Fine, but do what you have to do to stay alive. And pick up your phone when we call you."
"I know."
"If you don't pick up, we'll come looking for you." Sam added. "Stay safe,"
"I will." I started climbing back out.
I sat on my bike in front of Rebecca's door and debated. 'To go in or not to go in, that is the question'. My question was answered though when Rebecca swung the door open with her lips pressed together in a line. "Why are you here?"
"To help you." I answered.
"Oh, by messing up Zack's case even more?"
The people around us were starting to take note of the yelling match. I took the keys off my bike and slowly walked closer to Rebecca.
"Stay back." Rebecca took a step back, covering herself with the door.
"I'm putting down my gun." I raised my hands to show her I meant no harm.
She watched with wide eyes. "What?"
I lifted my jacket to show her where it rested in my jeans. "I'm putting it down." I slowly got the gun out and dropped it on the cement pathway. "There. I just wanna talk."
She nodded and reached for the gun. "I'm gonna put this far away."
"That's fine by me."
A few minutes later, I had been allowed to sit on the couch on the condition that the gun would be kept in the opposite corner of the room. I fiddled with the silver ring on my finger. It wasn't a weapon by any means, but I could use it to identify whether the person that arrived at her door was really one of the brothers or the skinwalker.
"Okay, I'm gonna need you to stay very calm." I started.
She nodded her head slowly. "What is it?"
"We think that–"
"'We' as in you, Dean, and Sam?"
"Yes."
"And why should I trust you? You three lied about his profession."
"Yes, and I'm sorry for that. It was the only way we would have been allowed to see the scene and get the footage to determine what we were dealing with."
"What do you mean?"
"We think it's a shapeshifter."
"Shapeshifter?" Rebecca paused for a moment before bursting into laughter. "What an awesome joke. You can take your leave now."
"No, I'm serious." I looked her dead in the eye. Realisation seemed to dawn on her but she refused to believe it. "This is what we do. We hunt monsters of all kinds. It's kind of the family business."
"Family business… Does that mean that Sam too…?"
I nodded. "Yeah, Sam too."
"I don't believe this."
"Your brother was at two places at once. You can't tell me you actually think that your brother did that and that you were too buzzed to realise he left at 10:00 and not midnight."
She swallowed dryly. "I know it wasn't him. But how do I know you're telling the truth?"
"The security cam footage. There was a light in his eyes."
"The police said it was a camera flare."
"Camera flares don't look like that. I can show you."
For the next few minutes, I educated her on the topic of camera flares. She was a fast learner. Her jaw was slack when she saw the footage of 'Zack' walking into his house again. "You're right. It's not the same. But- but how did the police not–"
"Because police don't exactly go looking for shapeshifting criminals. We do. Pure silver. It burns shapeshifters. That gun, it's loaded with silver bullets. Bullet to the heart and the shifter is dead."
My phone suddenly rang. "One sec, I should get that–"
Suddenly the phone was knocked out of my hands. "What–" I turned around to look at Rebecca. She had stood up and was leaning across the table. "What's wrong…?" Had I threatened her somehow? "I'm not going to hurt you." I extended my hands to her as a peace offering. My phone was still ringing. "See? I have nothing on me." She grabbed my left wrist and twisted.
I screamed and a resounding crack echoed through the room. It was definitely broken. So why was Rebecca also yelping in pain? I looked down at the hand that had been holding me and realised that the skin had been burned off of Rebecca. My silver ring. It had burned her. I looked up to see her snarling. Shit. That wasn't Rebecca. That was the shapeshifter.
I raced for the living room where 'Rebecca' had kept my gun with silver bullets.
But obviously the shapeshifter was faster. It grabbed onto my legs and tore through my flesh. Fucking hell. I bit my lip to keep the screams inside and tried to force my legs out of its grip. God, it hurt. It hurt so bad.
I fixed my eyes on a chair within sight. Could I move that thing and get the creature to let go?
"AH!" I couldn't help but shriek when I felt teeth sinking into my calf muscles.
Okay, okay, only one way to find out.
Chair falls over. Hits shapeshifter on the head. Shapeshifter lets go.
My head hurt as the chair did rock from side to side. The world was starting to spin, but I replayed the scene of the chair falling over and over again.
And then suddenly the creature let go.
Time to run. I scrambled onto my feet and ran. I shoved as many things as I could to create obstacles between me and the shapeshifter. Chairs, tables, couches, vases? Anything and everything would slow the thing down. I managed to make it to the living room and grabbed my gun.
But I was too weak to fight it. Blood was trickling down my legs and I felt weak. And I could taste the blood trickling down from my nose to my mouth. I bolted for the door, only to be caught by the creature again.
It spun me around and slammed me against the door to the house and breathed down my neck. Ew. Its breath was hot and wet. And it stank. It stank like the graves we dug up. It stank like dead people.
"I kinda like you." it spoke.
I forced my face away from it. What could I do to get it off of me? It took too much concentration to even stay awake right now. I wondered if I was dizzy from the blood loss or the use of my powers. Where was the stupid angel when I needed him?
Breathing was difficult, and my eyes were foggy. The creature was giving some speech on acceptance or something. I trained my eyes on the family photo I'd been looking at.
In, two, three. Out, two, three. In, two, three. Out, two, three. In, two, three. Out, two, three. In, two, three. Out–
My head was jerked so that I was looking into angry brown eyes with flashes of silver. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" the thing snarled.
But with the sudden movement of my head, what little vision I had left, faded.
When I woke up, I was tied to a chair in the sewer. There was blood all over my legs, and I could feel it dried and caked up on my face. Were my legs still bleeding? Considering how dry they were, I doubted so. This sucked. This sucked so bad.
"Did he get you too?" I heard Rebecca's whisper. I looked to my side and saw her tied up in ropes in a chair, just like me. "Oh my God, there's so much blood." she gasped.
I didn't have the strength to nod or say 'yeah'. I settled for wiggling my fingers instead. Pain shot through my arm. Oh, right. I had a broken left wrist. I chose to focus my energy on moving my right hand instead. I felt around the ropes to gauge any weakness in the tying. My ring was still on, and the ropes around my left hand felt lighter. The shapeshifter was probably avoiding the silver ring like the plague. Good.
As I worked the ropes slowly, I could vaguely hear Rebecca mumble and cry out apology after apology. God, could people shut up for just one second? Hah, like I had any right to do that. I rambled when I was exhausted too. Or at least I used to. With all the burdens everyone around me carried and the limits on what I could say, I'd long since learned to stick to internal monologues. Eight years of practiced internal monologuing and I still wanted to say everything out loud. I thought I would be used to it, but I still wanted them to know me, hear me, understand my pain. But I couldn't. My life was great.
With another tug, the ropes felt infinitely looser. I felt them releasing my hands and I threw my head back in a moment of relief. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the glint of my gun. Thank God. The shapeshifter was an idiot. Or rather, a narcissist. It really thought I couldn't undo my bindings. I almost wanted to laugh. Its own pride was its shortcoming. But so was mine.
"Are you mad at me…?" whimpered Rebecca.
I rolled my head to her and mouthed 'no'. I grit my teeth and stood up. Pain shot through my whole body and I lost my balance. I quickly reached for the chair to hold myself up but hissed when my left wrist made contact with the wood. Curse getting hurt.
"Sorry," I clenched my eyes shut to regain my bearings. "Kinda hurts." The world stopped spinning as much and I made my way towards Rebecca. I pressed my ring against her hands.
She jumped. I stiffened. "That's cold." she gave a small laugh. Right, her skin didn't burn either. "What's going on?"
"Shapeshifter." I told her. The ropes fell away from her hands.
She nodded. "I wouldn't have believed you, but– that thing turned into me– and then it turned into you– I watched it change shapes. So– I believe you." She gave me an apologetic look. "I'm assuming Sam told you what I said over the phone." I hummed in response. "I'm sorry for saying all those things." She looked dejected.
I made my way to the corner of the room we were in and grabbed my gun. It was still loaded. Stupid stupid monsters. "It's fine." I grabbed her hand and started pulling her out of the tunnel. "We're underground. So we gotta get out." I didn't have my phone on me either. What a pain. I looked at my floppy wrist. "You might wanna get out first. Push the manhole open. It'll take some strength."
"What about you?"
I looked at my wrist. Her eyes fell on it too and her mouth formed an 'O'. "Sh-should I go get help?"
"It could have transformed again. I don't want you to take the risk. But. It's weak to silver. If you can find anything that's pure silver, then you should use it. Silver will burn its skin, but it won't kill it unless you can get the silver to its heart."
I stared at my gun. Should I give it to her? What if the creature came back? Maybe going out with her was the best option. It would hurt like hell, but I could defend us both that way. I didn't even have anything to tie and stabilize my wrist, and no strength to rip my shirt or pants to make a makeshift splint.
"Never mind. I'm coming too." I took the lead. I grit my teeth and started the climb back out. I kept my gun in the back pocket of my jeans and used my elbow to grip onto the rungs instead.
'Slow and steady wins the race.' I loved that quote.
I wedged my foot into the gap between the cement wall of the shaft and the rung and pushed with my right arm on the manhole cover. It wouldn't budge. I was much weaker than the boys who had been removing them for the duration of this case.
Curses.
"Are we good?" Rebecca called from below me.
"We will be." I told her.
Change of tactics. I unlodged my foot and settled it a little closer to the cover and shoved with my shoulders instead. I felt it budge a little. Good. With a few more shoves than I would have liked, I managed to slip the cover off a tiny bit. I pressed my lips together. I could do this. With a final grunt, I had made enough of an opening for me to wiggle out.
Rebecca came out soon after and collapsed onto the road next to me. "We're alive."
"Yeah," I stood up and started looking for a telephone I could use. I spotted a pay phone a few feet away. "I need to call Dean and Sam."
"I have a few quarters." Rebecca offered me a few coins from the bottom of her jean pockets.
"Thanks." I punched in Dean's number. It took a few rings, but he finally picked up.
"Hello?" came Dean's voice. It sounded like he was running around. But was it really him? "Hellooo?" he drawled. "Who is it?"
I looked at Rebecca still standing outside the booth. I would have to take my chances. "Dean?"
"Sharon." I could hear him stop.
"Sharon?" I could hear Sam's faint voice from the other side. Okay, so either one of them was bad or none of them were. I would be safe. "Where are you?"
"A payphone by a Gas-n-Sip. I… I dunno the address. The place is closed too. I don't know if it's been abandoned or just closed for the night."
"It's okay, sweetheart. We'll be right there."
I hung up and stepped outside the booth. Rebecca had crouched down and curled into a ball on the sidewalk. "They're coming."
"What if it's one of them?" she shook.
"Won't be." I showed her my ring. "This thing. Is pure silver. If Dean's wearing it, then we're good."
"What if he's wearing something that just looks like it?"
"Then I'll make him take it off and show me the inside." I slipped off the silver band and showed her the inside of it. "Mine has his name carved into it." 'Dean Winchester' in beautiful loopy cursive. His full name. 'So you don't forget who belongs to you.' he'd said. "He learned cursive just for this." I couldn't help but smile. "And it's gonna take a damn long time to carve it in too. I doubt the shapeshifter has time for that." I put the ring back into its place.
Rebecca swallowed. "Okay, then."
When the Impala pulled up, I had my gun ready and aimed at the brothers. "Dean, take off your ring." I demanded.
Dean too took aim in my direction. "You too." he demanded. We both held our guns in our right hand and wiggled off the silver bands. I winced with every motion as it hurt my wrist even more. "Show me the inside."
"Yours first."
"No you."
"No you."
Great. We were getting nowhere.
"Okay, how about we just give them to each other."
"Put the gun down first."
"Okay." We slowly lowered the guns. I kept my eyes on him the whole time. What if he jumped me? We exchanged rings. I lifted the ring up to eye level so I could see Dean even while reading the carving inside. Dean did the same. 'Sharon Winchester' was carved in neat cursive.
"Dean," I relaxed. I picked up my gun and tucked it into my pocket.
"Sharon," he eyed me up and down with worry. "You're hurt."
"Yeah." I was a mess. Covered in blood. Even then, he pulled me against his chest. "You might need stitches."
"I know. My wrist is broken for sure." Dean pulled away and dove into the backseat to get out the first aid kit that resided in a rusty lead box. "I'm gonna set the bone. Okay? Hold on." He started wrapping my wrist tightly. I clenched my teeth to not scream in pain every time he moved it. How had my teeth not shattered yet?
"So we're all clean?" Sam asked.
Rebecca burst into tears when she heard Sam speak. "Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry." she sobbed. "I had no idea."
"Hey, hey, it's alright." Sam rubbed her arms up and down.
"Wait, so where's the shifter now?" Dean suddenly stiffened.
"It was Sharon the last time I saw it." Rebecca answered.
"Great, so we get to kill me?" I shuddered. Hang on, if it was me right now, then– I felt in my pockets. "My keys." I looked at Dean.
"He took your bike." Sam realised. "I'll run the plates." he slid into the passenger seat and started banging away on the keyboard.
"Let's get you patched up." Dean sat me down in the backseat with my legs hanging out the open door. He sat down on the sidewalk and started cutting my jeans to get to my wounds. I gripped his shoulders as the alcohol he used as disinfectant stung every bit of open skin I had. He then started on the stitches. It hurt so bad. Every nerve was on fire. I took in shaky breaths as I watched that god awful needle move in and out of my skin. I couldn't watch. He let me hold onto him, whispering little compliments to remind me he was there.
By the time he was done stitching me up, I had flopped back on the seats with sweat soaked clothes.
"Traffic violation a few streets away." Sam informed. "So it's out of Rebecca's at least. We can drop her off–"
"No, I'm coming with." Rebecca cut in. "I want to see this thing that did this to my brother."
"But Rebecca, this thing, it's dangerous."
"I know."
"We're running out of time. Let's get that thing before it turns Sharon into a killer." Dean helped me sit up. "Sam, you drive. I'll keep an eye on her."
"Is she okay?"
"I'm fine." I swatted Dean away. "Hurts like hell, but I'll live."
"If you say so," Dean threw me another pair of jeans and a new top. "Help her into that would you?"
Rebecca replaced him and helped me slip into my fresh clothes. "You look better." She pushed back my messy hair to reveal my face. "Can I wipe that blood off you?" I nodded. Her hands shook as she got the last bit of blood off my face.
"I look awful."
"You look fine." Everyone in the car chimed. Sure, whatever.
With some rock song on blast, we sped down till we found my bike parked in front of another small house. I handed Rebecca a gun loaded with silver and a home camera. "You see something that resembles a camera flare through this, you shoot."
"It's inside." Dean got out of the car as did Sam. Rebecca and I did the same. I was exhausted but I wasn't going to let me be on the FBI Watchlist either.
"Sam with Rebecca." Dean instructed. "Sharon with me."
We all nodded.
"More lasagna." Sam muttered.
"Lasagna?" Rebecca crinkled her nose at the sight. "How's that– Oh it sure looks like it." she gagged. "Now I can't eat."
"That makes two of us." Sam chuckled.
"We'll take downstairs." Dean told them. And so we all split up. I stuck close to Dean with my finger on the trigger. Dean held up my iPhone and scanned the room.
Dean's phone buzzed in his pocket and he held it up to his ear. "What is it?"
"We have a dead woman in the bedroom."
"Dead man in the living room too." Dean stepped aside to let me see.
Reality hit me like a truck when I spotted him. "This wasn't supposed to happen."
"What?" Dean turned around. "What do you mean?"
"No one else was supposed to die." I caused this. I caused an innocent couple to die.
"You couldn't have known this was gonna happen." Dean said gently. "It's not like you can predict the future."
I shouldn't have tried to change the story. This was all my fault.
"Let's keep looking." Dean placed a hand on my back and guided me past the corpse. We made our way to the kitchen. And there it was. The shapeshifter was doubled over on the floor in the form of a naked man. Specifically the naked form of the man in the living room.
Dean took aim and shot the creature. It screamed as the silver bullet burned into its body. It turned around with a snarl and I took a shot too, but I just missed its heart. Taking aim with one hand was harder than I thought. Sam and Rebecca came rushing down.
"What's wrong? Is it dead?!" Rebecca cried.
Dean shot one more time, this time right in the heart, and the creature fell dead. But I had a bad feeling about this. I made my way over to the dead creature. And looked at what it had been hunched over. A little girl. Half her body had been ripped away. I felt sick. She couldn't have been a day older than five. I stumbled back and tripped over the shapeshifter.
No. This couldn't be happening. How. I was trying to save people. How had I ended up being the one to cause their deaths. I could hear Dean rushing next to me and holding me up. "Breathe," he repeated. Over and over again. But I couldn't. I'd just killed a little girl. I'd just become the reason for an innocent family's death. This was all my fault. All my fault.
Someone was screaming and crying. And it sounded like myself.
"You sure you wanna drive on your own?" Dean leaned against my Kawasaki as I scrubbed the inside of my helmet. Disgusting shape shifter skin cells were all over it. "If you want, Sam or I can drive it and you can relax in the Impala."
"No." I kept scrubbing.
"It wasn't your fault."
"It was." I fixed him with a stare. "I caused the kid's death. The family's death. No one was supposed to die in this case. Other than the shape shifter."
"You couldn't have known you would change so many things. And everyone is bound to make different decisions, you know? Different times, different decisions. Hey, it's fifty-fifty if I want chocolate or strawberry syrup on my waffles."
"This isn't as simple as wanting syrup on waffles." I lifted my helmet to the sun. Its black coat sparkled.
"We can get you a Palm Pilot."
"Don't want it."
"Hey," Dean stepped closer. He tried to put an arm around my waist.
"No," I chewed the inside of my mouth to keep myself from crying. "Let's just go."
"Sammy's still bye to Bec."
"Then– get Baby started up– or something." I fumbled for my keys in my jacket. "I'm gonna go fill her up. The thing used up what little I had left."
"I'll come with."
"No," I wanted to cry.
"You shouldn't be alone."
"I can." I shrugged off his attempts at pulling me close. "And I will."
"No, no." he pinned my arms to my side and pulled me against him. "No baby." he kissed the top of my head. "I'm not letting you go till you realise this ain't your fault."
I felt my breath grow shakier and shakier. I couldn't break down. Not like this. Not in front of him. I wasn't weak.
"You can cry." He ran his fingers through my hair. "I won't think any less of you."
I let my bottom lip go from between my teeth and sagged against him. I hid my face in his chest and sobbed. "I'm sorry,"
"I know." he whispered. "It wasn't your fault. But I know you're sorry." he held me tighter. "That little girl knows that too, you know. We'll just have to be faster next time. So, don't blame yourself."
"I didn't mean to–"
"Shh, I know. I know. It's okay. We'll save the next one."
"P-promise?" I looked up into his beautiful green eyes.
"Promise." He sealed it with a soft kiss.