(no subject)
Title: Time is Tight Part One: What Lies Behind 1/9
Author: Mich
Rating: PG-13 - R for violence
Genre: AU, gen
Spoilers: up through episode 1.20 Dead Man's Blood
Summary: From John's POV. In the midst of the hunt for the Colt, John Winchester has to decide how far to trust Delphinar's daughter now that the yellow-eyed demon is in his sights.
1
“A neromancer. A damn neromancer.”
It was clear enough who Jayme was and moreover, who her mother was. It might have been Delphinar’s plan all along; he wouldn’t have put it past her. She, like most of her people, was extremely adept at playing her cards close to her vest. All that time had passed, he thought that tie was cut. But Delphinar had been watching him, he could bet. Keeping an eye on them from afar. He’d allowed it, because you could never tell when a friend like her could come in handy.
And yet he resisted. It was too easy to yield to the temptation, too easy to be seduced by the power they promised. He’d done his research with them as well, just like he’d learned to do with everything, finding out everything he could about these beings who, if Delphinar had told him the truth, had been on Earth before the raising of the pyramids in Egypt. A few of the older hunters knew them, or at least knew of them, mostly rumors and sightings that yielded very little insight.
Certainly no substitute for meeting one yourself.
“You look like a man who’s on a mission.” A simple enough greeting, enough to draw John Winchester’s attention away from his maze of notes and to the voice, belonging to a middle-aged woman whose library-issued nametag identified her as D. Phina. She was pleasant-looking, with a face that seemed capable of both kindness and sternness, with large green eyes behind small-framed spectacles.
“You should know better than to interrupt a man on a mission,” he shot back mildly, grateful for the chance to let his eyes rest even as his inner voice yelled at him to dismiss her so he could get back to it before more people died.
“Then lucky for me I’m here on official business,” she replied, handing him a small, leather-bound book that despite its age had obviously never been put on the re-binding cart. “I’m told you were unable to locate this earlier and I thought I’d take a stab at it. Found it three rows down from its home.”
“Thank you,” he said, rising to take it. “I’ve been floundering without this. How did you find it?”
“I sniffed it out. I have a knack for it, which is why they made me the big cheese around here.”
“I’m grateful. I should be done with this in an hour.”
“Take all the time you need. Somehow I doubt that crowds of people will be lining up to read about this town’s obscure history of mysterious deaths.”
John’s alarm bells went off. “Thank you . . . uh?”
“Del.”
He noticed the way her eyes passed over his notes and his journal, which was open on the table. It was brief and she was standing a little too far away to reasonably make anything out, but he got the uncomfortable sensation that she was able to read it all.
“John,” he introduced himself.
“Pleased to meet you. Is there anything else you require? Silver bullets, perhaps?”
John’s hand flashed out and wrapped around her wrist as he stood to face her and hissed, “What the hell are you?”
“Merely someone observant enough to notice a patron doing research on strange deaths, werewolves, and smart enough to put two and two together, based on recent events.” She glanced down at John’s hand as if mildly surprised to see it there.
“And in the know enough to know about silver bullets.”
“Oh come now. Anyone who’s been to a Lon Chaney movie knows about silver bullets.”
“But you’re taking it seriously. As seriously as I am. You know what I am.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do I? And just what is that?”
His hand tightened. “Don’t play games with me, lady.”
“I’m nothing you need fear. That is, provided you let go of me.”
“I’ll need a better answer than-” Suddenly John’s eyes widened and he stepped back, releasing her as a boy with straw hair came in and looked up at him sadly before taking the backpack off his chair and then heading back toward the children’s area.
Del’s eyes followed him, and when she looked back he knew instantly that she was a parent as well. “If you insist. But not here, and not now.” Her gaze moved to the clock on the wall. “We close at nine. If you can meet me then, you’ll have your answer.”
He had gone back, despite his better judgment. There was something strange about her, something not-human, something beyond the range of normal, but at the same time he felt no threat. Going back to the library that night with Sam and Dean in the car had not been his first choice, but he didn’t want to leave them alone. He’d done it before, for brief periods, but it always put a prickle of fear in his spine. He knew he’d have to get them to safety once the time came to bring down the werewolf, but for now he wasn’t letting them out of his sight.
He’d learned a lot in the nearly two years since Mary’s death. There was always something new, always new details to add to the pages in the leather journal that still had the sheen of newness on it. This was an entirely new and terrible world and he didn’t have much time to master its secrets. There were precious few allies out there but he’d made some, especially Pastor Jim, who was always willing to take care of his boys when he needed to be on a job for more than a day or two.
Despite the clandestine rendezvous, the night had been anticlimatic in one sense; she didn’t reveal herself to be a werewolf, which he hadn’t been expecting in the first place. What she had revealed was as far from expected as you could get.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. Sam was asleep in his car seat; Dean, who had just recently refused to occupy a car seat any longer, was nestled in the makeshift seat of pillows and blanket that John had rigged up to ensure he wouldn’t slide all over the seat, but that saved Dean from the indignity of looking like a baby. He was also asleep, his head resting on the edge of Sam’s car seat.
Del was waiting by the library’s side entrance. The building was dark, the outside parking lot lights keeping her well-illuminated. He got out, making sure to pull his coat over the gun tucked into his jeans. No sense taking chances.
“I didn’t expect you to come,” she said.
“You talk as if I had a choice.”
“True. And you did come.” Her eyes moved, imperceptably, but he got the feeling that she was taking in much more than a simple glance. “I want to know why you’re looking for werewolves in this town because I have reason to believe you’re putting yourself-and your offspring-in danger.”
He hadn’t expected that much honesty in one go. “I’ve been investigating werewolves, yes. If there is one here, I’m gonna put it down.”
“Good. We know where we stand. I don’t know who you are but you aren’t like most humans.”
He blinked. Just once. “Humans.”
“Yes, you heard me.” She didn’t quite meet his gaze.
“What are you?”
“First let me ask you a question. Do you believe that someone who is not human is automatically evil?”
Chapter Two
Author: Mich
Rating: PG-13 - R for violence
Genre: AU, gen
Spoilers: up through episode 1.20 Dead Man's Blood
Summary: From John's POV. In the midst of the hunt for the Colt, John Winchester has to decide how far to trust Delphinar's daughter now that the yellow-eyed demon is in his sights.
1
“A neromancer. A damn neromancer.”
It was clear enough who Jayme was and moreover, who her mother was. It might have been Delphinar’s plan all along; he wouldn’t have put it past her. She, like most of her people, was extremely adept at playing her cards close to her vest. All that time had passed, he thought that tie was cut. But Delphinar had been watching him, he could bet. Keeping an eye on them from afar. He’d allowed it, because you could never tell when a friend like her could come in handy.
And yet he resisted. It was too easy to yield to the temptation, too easy to be seduced by the power they promised. He’d done his research with them as well, just like he’d learned to do with everything, finding out everything he could about these beings who, if Delphinar had told him the truth, had been on Earth before the raising of the pyramids in Egypt. A few of the older hunters knew them, or at least knew of them, mostly rumors and sightings that yielded very little insight.
Certainly no substitute for meeting one yourself.
“You look like a man who’s on a mission.” A simple enough greeting, enough to draw John Winchester’s attention away from his maze of notes and to the voice, belonging to a middle-aged woman whose library-issued nametag identified her as D. Phina. She was pleasant-looking, with a face that seemed capable of both kindness and sternness, with large green eyes behind small-framed spectacles.
“You should know better than to interrupt a man on a mission,” he shot back mildly, grateful for the chance to let his eyes rest even as his inner voice yelled at him to dismiss her so he could get back to it before more people died.
“Then lucky for me I’m here on official business,” she replied, handing him a small, leather-bound book that despite its age had obviously never been put on the re-binding cart. “I’m told you were unable to locate this earlier and I thought I’d take a stab at it. Found it three rows down from its home.”
“Thank you,” he said, rising to take it. “I’ve been floundering without this. How did you find it?”
“I sniffed it out. I have a knack for it, which is why they made me the big cheese around here.”
“I’m grateful. I should be done with this in an hour.”
“Take all the time you need. Somehow I doubt that crowds of people will be lining up to read about this town’s obscure history of mysterious deaths.”
John’s alarm bells went off. “Thank you . . . uh?”
“Del.”
He noticed the way her eyes passed over his notes and his journal, which was open on the table. It was brief and she was standing a little too far away to reasonably make anything out, but he got the uncomfortable sensation that she was able to read it all.
“John,” he introduced himself.
“Pleased to meet you. Is there anything else you require? Silver bullets, perhaps?”
John’s hand flashed out and wrapped around her wrist as he stood to face her and hissed, “What the hell are you?”
“Merely someone observant enough to notice a patron doing research on strange deaths, werewolves, and smart enough to put two and two together, based on recent events.” She glanced down at John’s hand as if mildly surprised to see it there.
“And in the know enough to know about silver bullets.”
“Oh come now. Anyone who’s been to a Lon Chaney movie knows about silver bullets.”
“But you’re taking it seriously. As seriously as I am. You know what I am.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Do I? And just what is that?”
His hand tightened. “Don’t play games with me, lady.”
“I’m nothing you need fear. That is, provided you let go of me.”
“I’ll need a better answer than-” Suddenly John’s eyes widened and he stepped back, releasing her as a boy with straw hair came in and looked up at him sadly before taking the backpack off his chair and then heading back toward the children’s area.
Del’s eyes followed him, and when she looked back he knew instantly that she was a parent as well. “If you insist. But not here, and not now.” Her gaze moved to the clock on the wall. “We close at nine. If you can meet me then, you’ll have your answer.”
He had gone back, despite his better judgment. There was something strange about her, something not-human, something beyond the range of normal, but at the same time he felt no threat. Going back to the library that night with Sam and Dean in the car had not been his first choice, but he didn’t want to leave them alone. He’d done it before, for brief periods, but it always put a prickle of fear in his spine. He knew he’d have to get them to safety once the time came to bring down the werewolf, but for now he wasn’t letting them out of his sight.
He’d learned a lot in the nearly two years since Mary’s death. There was always something new, always new details to add to the pages in the leather journal that still had the sheen of newness on it. This was an entirely new and terrible world and he didn’t have much time to master its secrets. There were precious few allies out there but he’d made some, especially Pastor Jim, who was always willing to take care of his boys when he needed to be on a job for more than a day or two.
Despite the clandestine rendezvous, the night had been anticlimatic in one sense; she didn’t reveal herself to be a werewolf, which he hadn’t been expecting in the first place. What she had revealed was as far from expected as you could get.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. Sam was asleep in his car seat; Dean, who had just recently refused to occupy a car seat any longer, was nestled in the makeshift seat of pillows and blanket that John had rigged up to ensure he wouldn’t slide all over the seat, but that saved Dean from the indignity of looking like a baby. He was also asleep, his head resting on the edge of Sam’s car seat.
Del was waiting by the library’s side entrance. The building was dark, the outside parking lot lights keeping her well-illuminated. He got out, making sure to pull his coat over the gun tucked into his jeans. No sense taking chances.
“I didn’t expect you to come,” she said.
“You talk as if I had a choice.”
“True. And you did come.” Her eyes moved, imperceptably, but he got the feeling that she was taking in much more than a simple glance. “I want to know why you’re looking for werewolves in this town because I have reason to believe you’re putting yourself-and your offspring-in danger.”
He hadn’t expected that much honesty in one go. “I’ve been investigating werewolves, yes. If there is one here, I’m gonna put it down.”
“Good. We know where we stand. I don’t know who you are but you aren’t like most humans.”
He blinked. Just once. “Humans.”
“Yes, you heard me.” She didn’t quite meet his gaze.
“What are you?”
“First let me ask you a question. Do you believe that someone who is not human is automatically evil?”
Chapter Two