09x19 - Inject the Venom - Part Three: Scratch like a Cat
Episode number: 09x19 of Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)
Title: Inject the Venom
Subtitle: Scratch like a Cat
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word Count: 3,115
Rating: R
Warnings: language, violence, undead
Castiel kept watch over the war room. Dodge and Kevin both sat, heads down, asleep over whatever books or papers they'd been reading. The angel wasn't certain when they fell asleep, but he imagined they had because of exhaustion. Both of them had worked continuously for the past day or so. There was something very peaceful, quieting to Cas, in this moment. He used to watch over Sam and Dean as they slept in odd motel rooms or at Bobby Singer's old house, and he discovered that acting as a sentry for sleeping warriors cleared his mind of clutter.
Still, he realized the scenario was odd. Two individuals asleep, side-by-side at a table.
Dodge shook, as if a sudden cold cascaded down her spine. Her body trembled, and her eyes fluttered open, white and gray. She was having a vision.
In the time Cas's attention fell upon Dodge, Kevin began to shake. His response was more elegant, but nonetheless, he seemed to be having a seizure. The angel couldn't interfere, but watching them both tremor out of control became unsettling.
Briefly, he stood between them and tried to enter their dreams, but the way was shut.
After a few feverish moments, they both awoke, alert. Cas saw that Dodge's body temperature was abnormally high and her pain level was very high, so the angel touched her shoulder and healed her.
"What the hell was that?" Kevin blurted, confusion ripe in his eyes.
"I believe you both just had a vision," Cas said mildly.
"You can say that again," Dodge remarked. "You okay?" she asked Kevin.
"Yeah, that's what they're like?" Kevin asked.
"That one was particularly bad..."
"Still," Kevin replied. He turned to Cas, "Please tell me that won't be happening all the time."
"I don't know," the angel replied. "What did you see?"
"Uhm, I can't - I don't know," Dodge said lamely.
Smyrna, Delaware. Elizabeth unlocked the front door and walked in on autopilot. Her day at the office had felt like three shifts rolled into one, and she needed something to eat.
"Hey sweetie," she said to her boyfriend Goren.
"Liz, how was your day?" Goren asked.
"Long. You?"
"It was okay," he replied.
Elizabeth dropped onto the couch and flipped on the television. She turned to put her feet up only to find the entire living room out of sorts. The coffee table had files spread over it. Every drawer was open, and even the trash had been tipped over.
"Goren!" she yelled. "What did you do to the living room?"
"Nothing," he replied from the dining room.
"Nothing my ass!" she said. "Get in here!"
She didn't look at him as he dragged his feet into the room. Goren had a habit of leaving a mess, but this was too much.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked, finally pivoting to meet his eye.
It wasn't Goren. The man, whoever he was, was haggard, faint-white, and clearly injured.
"Who are you?" she asked. "How did you get in here? Are you alright?"
Her question was answered when Goren raced into the room, pursued by another pasty-white, disheveled assailant. His face was pure terror, and a large welt on his arm showed he had already fended off an attack.
"Run! Lizzy! Run!"
His warning reminded her to move, and she ducked a swinging baseball bat just in time. The attack came from a third assailant. She spun onto her side and delivered a knee-shattering sidekick to the bat-wielding maniac. She scrambled for the weapon, just in case, only to find the man wasn't stopped by a broken joint. He struggled, forcing her to jab and strike until he finally stopped moving all together.
Her hand ached, and she could hear Goren struggling with the other two. She wanted to help him, but something was making her bleed. It was a small, black stone. It had fallen from her attacker when she hit him. She palmed it and stood up to address the others -
"Run!" Goren repeated. "Go, run! Lizzy! Go get help!"
She could see it in his eyes. He was losing the fight, and he wasn't going to make it out of here.
"Goren - "
One of men charged at her, and with a sickening CRACK! she whirled the bat at him.
"Go! I mean it!" he bellowed.
Elizabeth ran from her own house out the back door, over the fence, and to the neighbor's door.
Dean and Sam parked the Impala. Aaron drove a large black sedan that looked more like an FBI-issue vehicle, but they agreed he should keep it to hide the golem in the back seat. Lambstone was already there, speaking with Elizabeth, so Aaron waited in his car.
"Gentlemen," Lambstone said to the brothers, "this is Elizabeth Mills. Ms. Mills, these are - "
"Agent Page," Dean said.
"Agent Hoffer," Sam said.
"Hi," she replied meekly.
"I've already questioned her, and I'm going to speak with the neighbor who called it in."
"We'll make this quick," Dean said.
"We understand that your boyfriend died in the assault?" Sam asked.
"Yes, Goren. Goren Timmons."
Dean asked, "Did he live here with you?"
She nodded.
"You were attacked, too. Did you get the impression that the people attacking you were targeting you personally?"
"No, I didn't," she replied weakly.
"What about Goren?" Dean asked.
"Maybe. I mean, one of them tried to hit me with a baseball bat, the other two both - they both - " she couldn't finish her sentence.
"Was there anything unusual about them?" Sam asked.
"Unusual?"
"Did they seem ill? Or in a trance? Did they say anything strange?" Sam asked.
"Or did anything else happen today, before the attack, that you remember being off?" Dean asked. He could tell she was under duress, so he added. "Ms. Mills, uh, Elizabeth. In cases like this, even the smallest detail can help us. So anything you can think of, even if it doesn't seem important."
She swallowed hard. "The one who attacked me, I broke his knee, and he kept fighting. I mean, beyond what a person should be able to do. It might've been drugs or something, but I had to hit him a lot. And, uh, when I came home, the living room was a mess. I thought Goren had been working and not cleaned up, but he didn't - he, uh, I don't think he did it. Earlier today, I thought someone was trying to peek into the windows - "
"When was that?" Dean asked.
"Uh, around nine a.m. Usually, I'm at work by then, but I had a later morning. I figured it was just one of the neighborhood kids, but I didn't really get a good look."
"You said you had to use a lot of force to subdue one of the victims," Sam said. "Was there anything else about him that struck you as odd?"
She shifted her weight from one foot to another, but she didn't respond.
"Look, Elizabeth," Dean said, "we were called in because the other body found in your house, one Zachary Osterweil, was pronounced dead and autopsied yesterday. So, no matter how crazy whatever you saw, or smelled, or felt, trust me, we're ready for it."
"Already autopsied?" she asked.
"That's right," Sam said.
"So you're willing to accept that the man who attacked me was dead when he did so?" she asked.
"Obviously, he was animated somehow," Sam said. "But, yes, his body was already dead."
Elizabeth produced the small, black stone from her pocket. It was wrapped in a delicate, silk cloth. "This fell off of him when we were fighting. For some reason, when I wrapped it in my blessing cloth, he stopped."
"Blessing cloth?" Dean asked. "Is that a Shinto - "
"No," she cut him off. "It's - related to witchcraft."
"Spell craft?" Sam asked. "What kind?"
"Goren did a lot with healing and protection spells," she said. "And a lot of people thought he was crazy, but, I didn't. So he'd make me talismans and stuff like this."
"Can I see it?" Sam asked.
She handed him the stone and cloth. Sam took his time inspecting it.
"You didn't mention this to the detective, did you?" Dean asked.
"Goren was a good man, but plenty of people will think he was crazy, into the occult or something, if they knew about all his interest in the other-worldly. I don't want that. Please don't - "
"Trust me, we can keep a secret," Dean said. "You have anything, Agent Hoffer?"
"It seems to be similar to a spell box," Sam said. "When Goren gave this to you, what did he say about it?"
"Just that if I ever was worried about opening a door or picking something up. You know, if the handle might be hot, or if there might be something contagious on it, that I could use this to touch it safely."
"Huh," Sam said. "Pretty good work. Better than Bobby, even."
"Who's Bobby?" she asked.
"Uh, a guy who was an expert in weird and weird management," Dean replied. "Thank you for telling us about this. Can we keep it?"
"Uh, I guess."
"We're very sorry about your boyfriend," Sam said. "Agent Page," he added to Dean.
"Thank you, Elizabeth."
Dean grabbed the items from Sam's hand. "Let me show this to Aaron and the mud man. You check out the scene."
"Sounds good," Sam said, veering off toward the front door.
As soon as he entered the front door, the EMF reader went haywire. It spiked in the living room, forcing Sam to turn it off as to not attract attention.
"Damn," Sam whispered as he caught sight of the room.
Goren Timmons's body was beaten, just as Esther Cassirer's, well beyond dead. Blood covered the couch, the coffee table, the walls. Trash and papers littered the room. Elizabeth seemed convinced that Goren hadn't made the mess, so maybe the undead companions had been searching for something.
"Did you get anything out of the girlfriend?" Lambstone asked.
"Apparently, this guy was hard to drop. She said she broke his knee," Sam said. "And he continued to attack."
"Huh," Lambstone said, hovering over the body apart from Goren. "This guy has been dead for days."
Sam took a hard look at the man. The autopsy staples from the Y-incisions had ripped away, and his skin hanged on him awkwardly, as if it wasn't really his. Sam stooped down to examine some dark black goo on the ground. He took a sample of it with a cotton swab -
"You got something?" Lambstone asked.
"I dunno," Sam replied. "Just something that isn't blood."
"Maybe it's bile?"
"Maybe," Sam said. "Forensics should check it out. In the meantime, does it look like someone was digging around for something?"
"You mean before the attack?"
"Yeah."
Lambstone's eyes took the scene in. "Actually, now that you mention it, the place does look more tossed than trashed."
"Do we know anything about Goren Timmons?"
Lambstone shook his head. "He worked as a personal trainer. Lived here for two years. The prelim checked him out. Nothing fishy, yet."
"Let me know if you find anything, I'll see if we can dig anything up."
"You seem unsurprised," Lambstone said.
Sam tilted his head. Part of him wanted to laugh; he must be the spitting image of Castiel.
"I mean, a really, really dead guy here is on the ground. Some woman proficient at the martial arts claimed he attacked her, along with two others we can't find, and you're just, fine about it."
"You think she had something to do with this?"
"I think that makes more sense than the Zombie Apocalypse."
Sam shook his head. "I'm betting you'll find finger prints for Wolfson and Cassirer, the two other dead/undead guys, on top of other evidence." Sam sensed Lambstone's skepticism, so he added, "Just a feeling, of course. Also, if I was going to make a cover story for a murder, it wouldn't involved zombies."
Lambstone laughed. "The coroner wants to take the bodies, so are you done here?"
"Yeah," Sam said. "You're putting the bodies under twenty-four hour surveillance, right? Giving the coroner two armed guards?"
"Seriously?" Lambstone said.
"The last coroner is still in the hospital," Sam said. "Along with his assistant. And with any luck, after the autopsy, someone will try to body snatch this one again, and we'll catch him red-handed."
Lambstone watched as Sam left, and his curiosity pitched. Carrying an EMF reader might be normal on a case involving electronics, but as far as he could tell, there was no indication of that. Maybe the undead, reanimated bodies were controlled with some kind of proprietary or secret-government technology. Either way, he didn't like their secrecy, and he knew something odd was going on.
The detective would just have to follow them.
The Winchesters stopped at a diner a few miles away, and Aaron and his golem joined them.
"What did you find?" Aaron said. "Besides the stone."
"I think this could be a ghost thing," Sam said, casually sliding the cotton swab over to him. "Ectoplasm near the body."
"Ghosts?" Dean said. "I liked it better when this was zombies."
"That actually makes sense," Aaron replied. "I mean, with the stone."
"The boy is right," Adam the golem pronounced.
"So, what's this stone?" Sam asked.
"The symbol on it - it's a Was scepter. It's a symbol of power, control, and in this case, it allows a sorcerer to claim a body for a ghost. You can burn the ghost's remains, and it doesn't matter. It's like the host body becomes the ghost's new tie to earth. I mean, until the stone is removed from the body and stopped by other spell work," Aaron explained.
"How do you know all this?" Sam asked.
"I've been teaching myself from my grandfather's journals, and the notes from the other members. They've dealt with this kind of necromancer before."
"You think this is the Thule Society?" Dean asked.
"I'm not sure, but I do know that spirits that have someone casting this kind of spell work for them are immune to things like salt rounds, fire, iron - pretty much everything," Aaron said. "The only way to banish them is to find the necromancer and, well, you know."
"Awesome."
Sam let out a huff that might've been a laugh. "Twenty bucks says Elizabeth Mills knows more than she told us. She just happened to grab a necromancer's stone in something that could contain its power?" Sam indulged in shaking his head. "Lambstone was right."
"Goren Timmons," Aaron began, "he was on my radar."
"Why?"
"He is big in certain circles. Mostly in herbal spell craft, but he also trafficked in unusual objects, like this silk cloth his girlfriend had," Aaron said. "I was planning on contacting him. I feel like this sorcerer is pulling names out of my head."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"I mean, the other three people, I contacted in the last week. But I hadn't approached Timmons yet - "
Sam slid a pad of paper across the table. "Write down the other names."
"Uh - okay - "
As if piecing together a plan he had all along, Sam continued, "Dean and I can check out the other names. Now we know what we're looking for, we should be able to push ahead. You and Adam here should follow Elizabeth."
Aaron balked. "Wait, no, this is my fight - "
"A Prophet of the Lord sent us here," Sam cut him off. "I believe that officially makes it our fight, too. And for all we know, Elizabeth might've been the primary target of the last attack, so we can't just leave her in protective custody with the police. They can't help her, not like you can. And she knows Dean and I as Feds. You can talk to her as someone in the loop with what her boyfriend did."
Aaron could tell Sam was appealing to his ego, but it still worked. "Okay, Adam and I will take point on that. Enjoy your dinner."
Lambstone watched as the two men exited the diner, leaving the two FBI Agents inside. He debated if he should stay and follow the Feds or tail the strangers getting into a black sedan.
A ball of pure, white light interrupted his thoughts as it touched down nearby. As if his surroundings became imperceptible, Detective Lambstone sat alone in his car, adrift somewhere in the wide universe.
"Seth Andrew Lambstone," the white light said.
"What? What are you?" he asked.
The light evaporated, and in its place stood a beautiful man with shaggy blond hair and a gruff disposition. "I am an angel," he said. "An angel that was once human, like you. Call me Harvelle."
Lambstone laughed. "Right, an angel."
The man put his hand on Lambstone's shoulder, and he felt his collarbone shift.
"Six years ago you suffered a broken collar bone from a mallet," Harvelle said. "You didn't get appropriate medical care for it, because you were protecting someone. You knew if you reported her for the attack, she would end up dead on the street. So you lied and said it was an accident, and the insurance wouldn't cover treatment for it. Now that woman works as a councilor, and you have had chronic pain as a cost."
"How did you - "
"Know about this? Or heal your collarbone and remove the scar tissue from the area?" Harvelle asked.
"What? What did you do to me?"
"I healed you. There's no reason for you to hurt for saving an innocent," Harvelle replied. "Like I said, I'm an angel."
"Why should I believe you?"
"You've believed in angels from a child, why stop now?"
"And why is an angel visiting me?"
"Because you are important, and getting off the path."
"What's that suppose to mean?"
"These two FBI Agents you're following? They'll lead you to your death."
"Is that a threat?"
"No, just the truth. They will stop the killer. They are very good at what they do. There is no reason for you to die."
"You expect me to just drop this for a guy with a few magic tricks up his sleeve?" Lambstone asked.
"No. I just ask that you return to your job, police work, and don't tail the agents. All your instincts agree with me - this is unnecessarily dangerous or you, and not for the right reasons."
"I'm having a stroke or something."
"Then go to the hospital. Just leave these two men be."
Harvelle vanished. The Impala, and the two FBI Agents, were gone.
"Damn it!" Lambstone cursed.
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Part Four: Never Give What You Can't Take Back
Primary Post: 09x19 Inject the Venom
Primary Post: Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)
Title: Inject the Venom
Subtitle: Scratch like a Cat
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word Count: 3,115
Rating: R
Warnings: language, violence, undead
Castiel kept watch over the war room. Dodge and Kevin both sat, heads down, asleep over whatever books or papers they'd been reading. The angel wasn't certain when they fell asleep, but he imagined they had because of exhaustion. Both of them had worked continuously for the past day or so. There was something very peaceful, quieting to Cas, in this moment. He used to watch over Sam and Dean as they slept in odd motel rooms or at Bobby Singer's old house, and he discovered that acting as a sentry for sleeping warriors cleared his mind of clutter.
Still, he realized the scenario was odd. Two individuals asleep, side-by-side at a table.
Dodge shook, as if a sudden cold cascaded down her spine. Her body trembled, and her eyes fluttered open, white and gray. She was having a vision.
In the time Cas's attention fell upon Dodge, Kevin began to shake. His response was more elegant, but nonetheless, he seemed to be having a seizure. The angel couldn't interfere, but watching them both tremor out of control became unsettling.
Briefly, he stood between them and tried to enter their dreams, but the way was shut.
After a few feverish moments, they both awoke, alert. Cas saw that Dodge's body temperature was abnormally high and her pain level was very high, so the angel touched her shoulder and healed her.
"What the hell was that?" Kevin blurted, confusion ripe in his eyes.
"I believe you both just had a vision," Cas said mildly.
"You can say that again," Dodge remarked. "You okay?" she asked Kevin.
"Yeah, that's what they're like?" Kevin asked.
"That one was particularly bad..."
"Still," Kevin replied. He turned to Cas, "Please tell me that won't be happening all the time."
"I don't know," the angel replied. "What did you see?"
"Uhm, I can't - I don't know," Dodge said lamely.
Smyrna, Delaware. Elizabeth unlocked the front door and walked in on autopilot. Her day at the office had felt like three shifts rolled into one, and she needed something to eat.
"Hey sweetie," she said to her boyfriend Goren.
"Liz, how was your day?" Goren asked.
"Long. You?"
"It was okay," he replied.
Elizabeth dropped onto the couch and flipped on the television. She turned to put her feet up only to find the entire living room out of sorts. The coffee table had files spread over it. Every drawer was open, and even the trash had been tipped over.
"Goren!" she yelled. "What did you do to the living room?"
"Nothing," he replied from the dining room.
"Nothing my ass!" she said. "Get in here!"
She didn't look at him as he dragged his feet into the room. Goren had a habit of leaving a mess, but this was too much.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" she asked, finally pivoting to meet his eye.
It wasn't Goren. The man, whoever he was, was haggard, faint-white, and clearly injured.
"Who are you?" she asked. "How did you get in here? Are you alright?"
Her question was answered when Goren raced into the room, pursued by another pasty-white, disheveled assailant. His face was pure terror, and a large welt on his arm showed he had already fended off an attack.
"Run! Lizzy! Run!"
His warning reminded her to move, and she ducked a swinging baseball bat just in time. The attack came from a third assailant. She spun onto her side and delivered a knee-shattering sidekick to the bat-wielding maniac. She scrambled for the weapon, just in case, only to find the man wasn't stopped by a broken joint. He struggled, forcing her to jab and strike until he finally stopped moving all together.
Her hand ached, and she could hear Goren struggling with the other two. She wanted to help him, but something was making her bleed. It was a small, black stone. It had fallen from her attacker when she hit him. She palmed it and stood up to address the others -
"Run!" Goren repeated. "Go, run! Lizzy! Go get help!"
She could see it in his eyes. He was losing the fight, and he wasn't going to make it out of here.
"Goren - "
One of men charged at her, and with a sickening CRACK! she whirled the bat at him.
"Go! I mean it!" he bellowed.
Elizabeth ran from her own house out the back door, over the fence, and to the neighbor's door.
Dean and Sam parked the Impala. Aaron drove a large black sedan that looked more like an FBI-issue vehicle, but they agreed he should keep it to hide the golem in the back seat. Lambstone was already there, speaking with Elizabeth, so Aaron waited in his car.
"Gentlemen," Lambstone said to the brothers, "this is Elizabeth Mills. Ms. Mills, these are - "
"Agent Page," Dean said.
"Agent Hoffer," Sam said.
"Hi," she replied meekly.
"I've already questioned her, and I'm going to speak with the neighbor who called it in."
"We'll make this quick," Dean said.
"We understand that your boyfriend died in the assault?" Sam asked.
"Yes, Goren. Goren Timmons."
Dean asked, "Did he live here with you?"
She nodded.
"You were attacked, too. Did you get the impression that the people attacking you were targeting you personally?"
"No, I didn't," she replied weakly.
"What about Goren?" Dean asked.
"Maybe. I mean, one of them tried to hit me with a baseball bat, the other two both - they both - " she couldn't finish her sentence.
"Was there anything unusual about them?" Sam asked.
"Unusual?"
"Did they seem ill? Or in a trance? Did they say anything strange?" Sam asked.
"Or did anything else happen today, before the attack, that you remember being off?" Dean asked. He could tell she was under duress, so he added. "Ms. Mills, uh, Elizabeth. In cases like this, even the smallest detail can help us. So anything you can think of, even if it doesn't seem important."
She swallowed hard. "The one who attacked me, I broke his knee, and he kept fighting. I mean, beyond what a person should be able to do. It might've been drugs or something, but I had to hit him a lot. And, uh, when I came home, the living room was a mess. I thought Goren had been working and not cleaned up, but he didn't - he, uh, I don't think he did it. Earlier today, I thought someone was trying to peek into the windows - "
"When was that?" Dean asked.
"Uh, around nine a.m. Usually, I'm at work by then, but I had a later morning. I figured it was just one of the neighborhood kids, but I didn't really get a good look."
"You said you had to use a lot of force to subdue one of the victims," Sam said. "Was there anything else about him that struck you as odd?"
She shifted her weight from one foot to another, but she didn't respond.
"Look, Elizabeth," Dean said, "we were called in because the other body found in your house, one Zachary Osterweil, was pronounced dead and autopsied yesterday. So, no matter how crazy whatever you saw, or smelled, or felt, trust me, we're ready for it."
"Already autopsied?" she asked.
"That's right," Sam said.
"So you're willing to accept that the man who attacked me was dead when he did so?" she asked.
"Obviously, he was animated somehow," Sam said. "But, yes, his body was already dead."
Elizabeth produced the small, black stone from her pocket. It was wrapped in a delicate, silk cloth. "This fell off of him when we were fighting. For some reason, when I wrapped it in my blessing cloth, he stopped."
"Blessing cloth?" Dean asked. "Is that a Shinto - "
"No," she cut him off. "It's - related to witchcraft."
"Spell craft?" Sam asked. "What kind?"
"Goren did a lot with healing and protection spells," she said. "And a lot of people thought he was crazy, but, I didn't. So he'd make me talismans and stuff like this."
"Can I see it?" Sam asked.
She handed him the stone and cloth. Sam took his time inspecting it.
"You didn't mention this to the detective, did you?" Dean asked.
"Goren was a good man, but plenty of people will think he was crazy, into the occult or something, if they knew about all his interest in the other-worldly. I don't want that. Please don't - "
"Trust me, we can keep a secret," Dean said. "You have anything, Agent Hoffer?"
"It seems to be similar to a spell box," Sam said. "When Goren gave this to you, what did he say about it?"
"Just that if I ever was worried about opening a door or picking something up. You know, if the handle might be hot, or if there might be something contagious on it, that I could use this to touch it safely."
"Huh," Sam said. "Pretty good work. Better than Bobby, even."
"Who's Bobby?" she asked.
"Uh, a guy who was an expert in weird and weird management," Dean replied. "Thank you for telling us about this. Can we keep it?"
"Uh, I guess."
"We're very sorry about your boyfriend," Sam said. "Agent Page," he added to Dean.
"Thank you, Elizabeth."
Dean grabbed the items from Sam's hand. "Let me show this to Aaron and the mud man. You check out the scene."
"Sounds good," Sam said, veering off toward the front door.
As soon as he entered the front door, the EMF reader went haywire. It spiked in the living room, forcing Sam to turn it off as to not attract attention.
"Damn," Sam whispered as he caught sight of the room.
Goren Timmons's body was beaten, just as Esther Cassirer's, well beyond dead. Blood covered the couch, the coffee table, the walls. Trash and papers littered the room. Elizabeth seemed convinced that Goren hadn't made the mess, so maybe the undead companions had been searching for something.
"Did you get anything out of the girlfriend?" Lambstone asked.
"Apparently, this guy was hard to drop. She said she broke his knee," Sam said. "And he continued to attack."
"Huh," Lambstone said, hovering over the body apart from Goren. "This guy has been dead for days."
Sam took a hard look at the man. The autopsy staples from the Y-incisions had ripped away, and his skin hanged on him awkwardly, as if it wasn't really his. Sam stooped down to examine some dark black goo on the ground. He took a sample of it with a cotton swab -
"You got something?" Lambstone asked.
"I dunno," Sam replied. "Just something that isn't blood."
"Maybe it's bile?"
"Maybe," Sam said. "Forensics should check it out. In the meantime, does it look like someone was digging around for something?"
"You mean before the attack?"
"Yeah."
Lambstone's eyes took the scene in. "Actually, now that you mention it, the place does look more tossed than trashed."
"Do we know anything about Goren Timmons?"
Lambstone shook his head. "He worked as a personal trainer. Lived here for two years. The prelim checked him out. Nothing fishy, yet."
"Let me know if you find anything, I'll see if we can dig anything up."
"You seem unsurprised," Lambstone said.
Sam tilted his head. Part of him wanted to laugh; he must be the spitting image of Castiel.
"I mean, a really, really dead guy here is on the ground. Some woman proficient at the martial arts claimed he attacked her, along with two others we can't find, and you're just, fine about it."
"You think she had something to do with this?"
"I think that makes more sense than the Zombie Apocalypse."
Sam shook his head. "I'm betting you'll find finger prints for Wolfson and Cassirer, the two other dead/undead guys, on top of other evidence." Sam sensed Lambstone's skepticism, so he added, "Just a feeling, of course. Also, if I was going to make a cover story for a murder, it wouldn't involved zombies."
Lambstone laughed. "The coroner wants to take the bodies, so are you done here?"
"Yeah," Sam said. "You're putting the bodies under twenty-four hour surveillance, right? Giving the coroner two armed guards?"
"Seriously?" Lambstone said.
"The last coroner is still in the hospital," Sam said. "Along with his assistant. And with any luck, after the autopsy, someone will try to body snatch this one again, and we'll catch him red-handed."
Lambstone watched as Sam left, and his curiosity pitched. Carrying an EMF reader might be normal on a case involving electronics, but as far as he could tell, there was no indication of that. Maybe the undead, reanimated bodies were controlled with some kind of proprietary or secret-government technology. Either way, he didn't like their secrecy, and he knew something odd was going on.
The detective would just have to follow them.
The Winchesters stopped at a diner a few miles away, and Aaron and his golem joined them.
"What did you find?" Aaron said. "Besides the stone."
"I think this could be a ghost thing," Sam said, casually sliding the cotton swab over to him. "Ectoplasm near the body."
"Ghosts?" Dean said. "I liked it better when this was zombies."
"That actually makes sense," Aaron replied. "I mean, with the stone."
"The boy is right," Adam the golem pronounced.
"So, what's this stone?" Sam asked.
"The symbol on it - it's a Was scepter. It's a symbol of power, control, and in this case, it allows a sorcerer to claim a body for a ghost. You can burn the ghost's remains, and it doesn't matter. It's like the host body becomes the ghost's new tie to earth. I mean, until the stone is removed from the body and stopped by other spell work," Aaron explained.
"How do you know all this?" Sam asked.
"I've been teaching myself from my grandfather's journals, and the notes from the other members. They've dealt with this kind of necromancer before."
"You think this is the Thule Society?" Dean asked.
"I'm not sure, but I do know that spirits that have someone casting this kind of spell work for them are immune to things like salt rounds, fire, iron - pretty much everything," Aaron said. "The only way to banish them is to find the necromancer and, well, you know."
"Awesome."
Sam let out a huff that might've been a laugh. "Twenty bucks says Elizabeth Mills knows more than she told us. She just happened to grab a necromancer's stone in something that could contain its power?" Sam indulged in shaking his head. "Lambstone was right."
"Goren Timmons," Aaron began, "he was on my radar."
"Why?"
"He is big in certain circles. Mostly in herbal spell craft, but he also trafficked in unusual objects, like this silk cloth his girlfriend had," Aaron said. "I was planning on contacting him. I feel like this sorcerer is pulling names out of my head."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"I mean, the other three people, I contacted in the last week. But I hadn't approached Timmons yet - "
Sam slid a pad of paper across the table. "Write down the other names."
"Uh - okay - "
As if piecing together a plan he had all along, Sam continued, "Dean and I can check out the other names. Now we know what we're looking for, we should be able to push ahead. You and Adam here should follow Elizabeth."
Aaron balked. "Wait, no, this is my fight - "
"A Prophet of the Lord sent us here," Sam cut him off. "I believe that officially makes it our fight, too. And for all we know, Elizabeth might've been the primary target of the last attack, so we can't just leave her in protective custody with the police. They can't help her, not like you can. And she knows Dean and I as Feds. You can talk to her as someone in the loop with what her boyfriend did."
Aaron could tell Sam was appealing to his ego, but it still worked. "Okay, Adam and I will take point on that. Enjoy your dinner."
Lambstone watched as the two men exited the diner, leaving the two FBI Agents inside. He debated if he should stay and follow the Feds or tail the strangers getting into a black sedan.
A ball of pure, white light interrupted his thoughts as it touched down nearby. As if his surroundings became imperceptible, Detective Lambstone sat alone in his car, adrift somewhere in the wide universe.
"Seth Andrew Lambstone," the white light said.
"What? What are you?" he asked.
The light evaporated, and in its place stood a beautiful man with shaggy blond hair and a gruff disposition. "I am an angel," he said. "An angel that was once human, like you. Call me Harvelle."
Lambstone laughed. "Right, an angel."
The man put his hand on Lambstone's shoulder, and he felt his collarbone shift.
"Six years ago you suffered a broken collar bone from a mallet," Harvelle said. "You didn't get appropriate medical care for it, because you were protecting someone. You knew if you reported her for the attack, she would end up dead on the street. So you lied and said it was an accident, and the insurance wouldn't cover treatment for it. Now that woman works as a councilor, and you have had chronic pain as a cost."
"How did you - "
"Know about this? Or heal your collarbone and remove the scar tissue from the area?" Harvelle asked.
"What? What did you do to me?"
"I healed you. There's no reason for you to hurt for saving an innocent," Harvelle replied. "Like I said, I'm an angel."
"Why should I believe you?"
"You've believed in angels from a child, why stop now?"
"And why is an angel visiting me?"
"Because you are important, and getting off the path."
"What's that suppose to mean?"
"These two FBI Agents you're following? They'll lead you to your death."
"Is that a threat?"
"No, just the truth. They will stop the killer. They are very good at what they do. There is no reason for you to die."
"You expect me to just drop this for a guy with a few magic tricks up his sleeve?" Lambstone asked.
"No. I just ask that you return to your job, police work, and don't tail the agents. All your instincts agree with me - this is unnecessarily dangerous or you, and not for the right reasons."
"I'm having a stroke or something."
"Then go to the hospital. Just leave these two men be."
Harvelle vanished. The Impala, and the two FBI Agents, were gone.
"Damn it!" Lambstone cursed.
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Primary Post: 09x19 Inject the Venom
Primary Post: Season 9 Fan Fiction (S9FF)