10x00 - Dreaming from the Waist - Part Two: Dream Machine
Episode number: 10x01 of Season 10 Fan Fiction (S10FF)
Title: Dreaming from the Waist
Subtitle: Dream Machine
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word count: 1,961
Rating: R
Warnings: language, violence, nightmares, sexual scenarios
Dean couldn't breath. His throat tightened. His body felt weak, and was all he could do to stagger forward.
A familiar voice echoed over and over again, "You're both too busy enjoying domestic bliss to really invest yourselves in your jobs, otherwise you wouldn't have your heads so far up your asses."
"Dean!" a loud, gruff voice yelled. "Dean!"
His emerald eyes snapped open to see Castiel leaning over him.
"You were thrashing violently," the angel said simply. "And then you stopped breathing. I thought it best to wake you."
"Right, thanks," Dean said hoarsely as he sat up straight. The waistband of his pants pulled tightly on his hips. "What the hell? Cas, why - I'm wearing pants."
"Was that a question?" Castiel asked, his sincerity annoyingly hitting Dean's ear.
"Yeah, why the hell am I wearing my jeans in bed?"
"You fell asleep in them," Cas replied. "Should I have disrobed you while you slept?"
Dean shook his head. The memories gradually came back to him. He had been working on a case in the War Room, and then -
"So, you carried me to bed, but dropped me in with my cloths on?"
"Yes."
"Right, well, thanks," Dean said. "What time is it?"
"Two in the morning. Are you all right? You did stop breathing."
"Getting old," Dean replied. "Probably sleep apnea or whatever. I'm starving."
"You should sleep," Cas said. "You haven't slept more than three hours in the past two weeks."
"Two weeks? Try thirty years," Dean said as he stumbled out of bed to the kitchen.
Sam Winchester was wide awake. He had fallen asleep before Dodge, but for some reason his body woke up at five in the morning and refused to allow him any more rest.
So he decided to watch Dodge sleep. Something about it made him feel both elated and just a little old. He hadn't expected this moment, this relationship.
Dean had accused him more than once of chasing up Amazon leads just to spend time with his girlfriend. And he wasn't entirely off. The first few possible attacks were gang-related assaults, nothing supernatural about them, yet Sam lingered on the east coast, ducking and hiding from any other federal agents Dodge came into contact with.
But now? These last three bodies were all definitely supernatural. Maybe they weren't dropped by Amazons, but it could be a family of shifters or something just as nasty. And as of the third body found last night, the FBI was now labeling the case a serial murder case, which meant it would be under a lot of scrutiny.
Sam really should head back to the bunker to dig up intel on the Amazons the old fashion way. He had already been pronounced legally dead at least twice, and before both times he was at the top of America's Most Wanted. Any sighting of him and Dodge together could destroy her career and land him in a federal jail cell.
Spending time with Dodge in the field was amazing. She had good instincts and training, which matched her squarely with Dean, but she didn't force Sam to listen to the same cassette tapes. She even listened to NPR. But the risk just kept going up, and not just from the criminal justice system.
Dodge rolled over, and Sam couldn't stop staring.
He felt guilty and happy at the same time.
Dodge's cell phone rang, and she flinched but didn't wake. He leaned over her and grabbed it from the bedside table.
"It's work," he said to her. "Dodge, wake up. You've got a call."
It took several minutes to wake her, by which time the phone had stopped ringing and her inbox had accrued multiple messages.
"Got another body," she said tersely after she listened to her messages. "And we've got something else this time."
"Missing heart?" Sam asked.
"A witness."
"That's just as good."
"Sam," Dodge said as she got out of bed, "you know what that means."
"That we should head out now," he replied.
"You can't be there when I question the witness," she said. "I won't be the only fed there."
"All right," Sam replied. "Then I'll head to the morgue, check out the body."
"That's not a good idea," she said. "Not with - "
"Dodge, I can pass for a lab guy," Sam replied. "I could probably pass for forensics if I really wanted to."
"My bosses are gonna want my partner to join me on this one," she said. "Now that it's definitely serial and not just a case I'm looking into."
"I get it," Sam said harshly. "But I'm not stranding you out here with whatever monster is pulverizing people to death."
"Sam, I've done this before."
"Have you?"
She took a few moments before turning around, button up her shirt. "Yes, Sam, I have. I can take care of myself. What I can't do is have someone identifying you."
"I'm going with you," he said simply. "Done and done."
"We can't keep doing this," she said. "We've gotta figure out something else."
Sam bit his lip and busied himself with dressing. He didn't want to consider the alternatives; everything he could think of meant an end for him and Dodge.
Dean continued to track Sam's case with a map of New Jersey and several pins; that was unremarkable.
The thing that surprised Castiel was that the hunter had started a new case board with a map of the USA. He had already added dozens of pins, spiraling out from Rawlins, Wyoming.
"I thought you wanted something to eat," the angel said as he joined Dean.
"Yeah, and then I got an idea and started this," Dean replied.
"Supernatural events?" Cas asked, indicating the tags.
"Uh, no. We haven't really figured out what happened in Rawlin. A lot of bad went down there, with the entire town turned and Lucifer and Jesse blowing things up."
"And Therion," Castiel added. "Among others."
"I know you and Sam spent a lot of time looking for me," Dean said. "And I am grateful. But if Jesse's still alive, we should - "
"He's not," Cas said quietly. "Neither is Lucifer."
"Then we should still figure out what happened," Dean said. "We owe him that much."
"You think knowing the outcome of the battle will make you feel less guilty over Jesse's death?"
"I don't feel guilty," Dean snapped.
"Are you certain?"
Several minutes of silence passed before Dean spoke again. "We've been dropping the ball. Missing cases."
"You were held captive - "
Dean interrupted him. "Before that."
Cas tilted his head in confusion.
"Before the Amazons grabbed me from Rawlin," Dean continued. "We didn't even know what the hell was going on."
"The forces at work were insidious," Cas said.
"This is what we do, Cas!" Dean yelled. "We spot crap like this and we stop it. The whole monster-versus-demon thing with the witch-on-witch action was just some kind of cover for demon/monster hybridization. For all we know, they're massing up an army."
Castiel considered his words for a few moments. "I don't understand what you just said. But I know what you mean." The angel put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We survived. That's more than anyone else. And we will figure it out."
Dean bit into his cheek. He didn't want someone to kiss and make it better; he wanted to know what they were up against.
"I don't want to be caught with my pants down again, Cas," Dean said.
"Normally you don't mind," the angel replied.
"It's an expression, Cas," Dean said. He turned to meet Cas's eye and saw a smile playing on the angel's face.
"I understand. So, where do we begin?"
Jamie always enjoyed working in the morgue. Her recent transfer to New Jersey, however, had made her question if she should remain in the field. In the past two weeks she had examined the victims of more violent crimes than she had for the past year at her previous post.
"Excuse me, are you Dr. Devon?" someone said as he entered the room.
Jamie's questions melted away at the sight of the bespectacled technician waiting at the door. He was very tall with long hair and striking eyes. Something about him made Jamie feel at ease, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Uh, yes, I am," she replied. "Call me Jamie."
"I'm Mathis, Mathis Quinn," the man said. "I'm working on the bludgeoning case. The serial one."
Sam chose a new alias for his cover as a forensics technician. He wondered why he hadn't bothered with such a position previously, as no one questioned the latex gloves or the general air of social awkwardness that allowed him to duck cameras.
Dr. Jamie Devon showed Sam the three bodies before heading back to her office with a slightly tired look. He hadn't realized, before her wary goodbye, that she had been hitting on him.
Sam made a mental note to make his next alias as forensic lab tech married.
The first two bodies had already been autopsied, but the third had just been brought in. According to the file, the latest victim was identified as Frans McConner.
The knuckles on McConner's hands were raw and bloody, but not from torture or beating. He had used his fists to defend himself, and from the looks of his knuckles, he had experience, some kind of conditioning, long before he was attacked.
Sam checked the legs; McConner's shins bore similar indications. He must've had some training in the martial arts at some point. Sam checked the other two victims and discovered they, too, had fought back viciously.
Neither of the previous reports mentioned anything about the victims having anything above standard defensive wounds, but there was a note on the third case file that caught Sam's eye: additional analysis will be provided by Dr. Maureen Rawlings, forensic anthropologist.
He took down her information. Maybe she would have more insights into these three men.
Dodge spotted Sam as soon as he came out of the morgue. She sent him a text: MEET ME AT THE ROOM, ASAP.
It took her about twenty minutes to get to their motel room, but his trip took longer. She waited for him, unsure if she should call or text again.
"Sorry," he said as he stepped into the room. "I thought I was being followed, so I had to park in another lot."
"Were you?"
"What?"
"Followed?"
"No," Sam said simply.
"What did you find at the morgue?" she asked.
"Not much," he replied. "The bodies have no trace evidence. No EMF, no sulfur, no nothing to suggest anything at all."
"You mean, there was no DNA on this body?"
"They hadn't processed any of that yet," Sam replied. "I bet there will be DNA, but nothing that can get us anywhere."
"Well, then, you're gonna wanna hear this," she said. "I spoke to that witness that was there when McConner's body dropped."
"How did that go?"
"Her name is Asmita Banuelos. She told me that she saw this man running from multiple assailants before he was cornered and beaten down by at least five individuals."
"Did she describe them?" Sam asked.
"Not really. She said they could've been women, but all she really saw was that they weren't as tall as he was."
"The man was six foot four," he replied. "Pretty much everyone is shorter than he is."
"Yeah, but she called it in," Dodge said. "Which gives us a location of the assailants, a time frame, and plenty of opportunities for us to catch their faces on security footage."
She waved her arm over to a large box with assorted media for video: memory stick, hard drive, even a few DVDs.
"So, should I get popcorn?" Sam asked.
"Not too much," she replied. "I can only stay until Marie gets here, which should be today."
"Your FBI partner?" Sam asked.
"When she's here, I've got to play by the book. That means staying the motel the FBI booked for me, all that jazz."
Sam bit his tongue and nodded. "Right, your turf. Where do we start?"
<<< Previous Part:
Part One: Shooting Dice
Next Part: >>>
Part Three: Thumbed Pages
Primary Post: 10x00 Dreaming from the Waist
Primary Post: Season 10 Fan Fiction
Title: Dreaming from the Waist
Subtitle: Dream Machine
Author: dracox-serdriel
Word count: 1,961
Rating: R
Warnings: language, violence, nightmares, sexual scenarios
Dean couldn't breath. His throat tightened. His body felt weak, and was all he could do to stagger forward.
A familiar voice echoed over and over again, "You're both too busy enjoying domestic bliss to really invest yourselves in your jobs, otherwise you wouldn't have your heads so far up your asses."
"Dean!" a loud, gruff voice yelled. "Dean!"
His emerald eyes snapped open to see Castiel leaning over him.
"You were thrashing violently," the angel said simply. "And then you stopped breathing. I thought it best to wake you."
"Right, thanks," Dean said hoarsely as he sat up straight. The waistband of his pants pulled tightly on his hips. "What the hell? Cas, why - I'm wearing pants."
"Was that a question?" Castiel asked, his sincerity annoyingly hitting Dean's ear.
"Yeah, why the hell am I wearing my jeans in bed?"
"You fell asleep in them," Cas replied. "Should I have disrobed you while you slept?"
Dean shook his head. The memories gradually came back to him. He had been working on a case in the War Room, and then -
"So, you carried me to bed, but dropped me in with my cloths on?"
"Yes."
"Right, well, thanks," Dean said. "What time is it?"
"Two in the morning. Are you all right? You did stop breathing."
"Getting old," Dean replied. "Probably sleep apnea or whatever. I'm starving."
"You should sleep," Cas said. "You haven't slept more than three hours in the past two weeks."
"Two weeks? Try thirty years," Dean said as he stumbled out of bed to the kitchen.
Sam Winchester was wide awake. He had fallen asleep before Dodge, but for some reason his body woke up at five in the morning and refused to allow him any more rest.
So he decided to watch Dodge sleep. Something about it made him feel both elated and just a little old. He hadn't expected this moment, this relationship.
Dean had accused him more than once of chasing up Amazon leads just to spend time with his girlfriend. And he wasn't entirely off. The first few possible attacks were gang-related assaults, nothing supernatural about them, yet Sam lingered on the east coast, ducking and hiding from any other federal agents Dodge came into contact with.
But now? These last three bodies were all definitely supernatural. Maybe they weren't dropped by Amazons, but it could be a family of shifters or something just as nasty. And as of the third body found last night, the FBI was now labeling the case a serial murder case, which meant it would be under a lot of scrutiny.
Sam really should head back to the bunker to dig up intel on the Amazons the old fashion way. He had already been pronounced legally dead at least twice, and before both times he was at the top of America's Most Wanted. Any sighting of him and Dodge together could destroy her career and land him in a federal jail cell.
Spending time with Dodge in the field was amazing. She had good instincts and training, which matched her squarely with Dean, but she didn't force Sam to listen to the same cassette tapes. She even listened to NPR. But the risk just kept going up, and not just from the criminal justice system.
Dodge rolled over, and Sam couldn't stop staring.
He felt guilty and happy at the same time.
Dodge's cell phone rang, and she flinched but didn't wake. He leaned over her and grabbed it from the bedside table.
"It's work," he said to her. "Dodge, wake up. You've got a call."
It took several minutes to wake her, by which time the phone had stopped ringing and her inbox had accrued multiple messages.
"Got another body," she said tersely after she listened to her messages. "And we've got something else this time."
"Missing heart?" Sam asked.
"A witness."
"That's just as good."
"Sam," Dodge said as she got out of bed, "you know what that means."
"That we should head out now," he replied.
"You can't be there when I question the witness," she said. "I won't be the only fed there."
"All right," Sam replied. "Then I'll head to the morgue, check out the body."
"That's not a good idea," she said. "Not with - "
"Dodge, I can pass for a lab guy," Sam replied. "I could probably pass for forensics if I really wanted to."
"My bosses are gonna want my partner to join me on this one," she said. "Now that it's definitely serial and not just a case I'm looking into."
"I get it," Sam said harshly. "But I'm not stranding you out here with whatever monster is pulverizing people to death."
"Sam, I've done this before."
"Have you?"
She took a few moments before turning around, button up her shirt. "Yes, Sam, I have. I can take care of myself. What I can't do is have someone identifying you."
"I'm going with you," he said simply. "Done and done."
"We can't keep doing this," she said. "We've gotta figure out something else."
Sam bit his lip and busied himself with dressing. He didn't want to consider the alternatives; everything he could think of meant an end for him and Dodge.
Dean continued to track Sam's case with a map of New Jersey and several pins; that was unremarkable.
The thing that surprised Castiel was that the hunter had started a new case board with a map of the USA. He had already added dozens of pins, spiraling out from Rawlins, Wyoming.
"I thought you wanted something to eat," the angel said as he joined Dean.
"Yeah, and then I got an idea and started this," Dean replied.
"Supernatural events?" Cas asked, indicating the tags.
"Uh, no. We haven't really figured out what happened in Rawlin. A lot of bad went down there, with the entire town turned and Lucifer and Jesse blowing things up."
"And Therion," Castiel added. "Among others."
"I know you and Sam spent a lot of time looking for me," Dean said. "And I am grateful. But if Jesse's still alive, we should - "
"He's not," Cas said quietly. "Neither is Lucifer."
"Then we should still figure out what happened," Dean said. "We owe him that much."
"You think knowing the outcome of the battle will make you feel less guilty over Jesse's death?"
"I don't feel guilty," Dean snapped.
"Are you certain?"
Several minutes of silence passed before Dean spoke again. "We've been dropping the ball. Missing cases."
"You were held captive - "
Dean interrupted him. "Before that."
Cas tilted his head in confusion.
"Before the Amazons grabbed me from Rawlin," Dean continued. "We didn't even know what the hell was going on."
"The forces at work were insidious," Cas said.
"This is what we do, Cas!" Dean yelled. "We spot crap like this and we stop it. The whole monster-versus-demon thing with the witch-on-witch action was just some kind of cover for demon/monster hybridization. For all we know, they're massing up an army."
Castiel considered his words for a few moments. "I don't understand what you just said. But I know what you mean." The angel put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "We survived. That's more than anyone else. And we will figure it out."
Dean bit into his cheek. He didn't want someone to kiss and make it better; he wanted to know what they were up against.
"I don't want to be caught with my pants down again, Cas," Dean said.
"Normally you don't mind," the angel replied.
"It's an expression, Cas," Dean said. He turned to meet Cas's eye and saw a smile playing on the angel's face.
"I understand. So, where do we begin?"
Jamie always enjoyed working in the morgue. Her recent transfer to New Jersey, however, had made her question if she should remain in the field. In the past two weeks she had examined the victims of more violent crimes than she had for the past year at her previous post.
"Excuse me, are you Dr. Devon?" someone said as he entered the room.
Jamie's questions melted away at the sight of the bespectacled technician waiting at the door. He was very tall with long hair and striking eyes. Something about him made Jamie feel at ease, but she couldn't quite place it.
"Uh, yes, I am," she replied. "Call me Jamie."
"I'm Mathis, Mathis Quinn," the man said. "I'm working on the bludgeoning case. The serial one."
Sam chose a new alias for his cover as a forensics technician. He wondered why he hadn't bothered with such a position previously, as no one questioned the latex gloves or the general air of social awkwardness that allowed him to duck cameras.
Dr. Jamie Devon showed Sam the three bodies before heading back to her office with a slightly tired look. He hadn't realized, before her wary goodbye, that she had been hitting on him.
Sam made a mental note to make his next alias as forensic lab tech married.
The first two bodies had already been autopsied, but the third had just been brought in. According to the file, the latest victim was identified as Frans McConner.
The knuckles on McConner's hands were raw and bloody, but not from torture or beating. He had used his fists to defend himself, and from the looks of his knuckles, he had experience, some kind of conditioning, long before he was attacked.
Sam checked the legs; McConner's shins bore similar indications. He must've had some training in the martial arts at some point. Sam checked the other two victims and discovered they, too, had fought back viciously.
Neither of the previous reports mentioned anything about the victims having anything above standard defensive wounds, but there was a note on the third case file that caught Sam's eye: additional analysis will be provided by Dr. Maureen Rawlings, forensic anthropologist.
He took down her information. Maybe she would have more insights into these three men.
Dodge spotted Sam as soon as he came out of the morgue. She sent him a text: MEET ME AT THE ROOM, ASAP.
It took her about twenty minutes to get to their motel room, but his trip took longer. She waited for him, unsure if she should call or text again.
"Sorry," he said as he stepped into the room. "I thought I was being followed, so I had to park in another lot."
"Were you?"
"What?"
"Followed?"
"No," Sam said simply.
"What did you find at the morgue?" she asked.
"Not much," he replied. "The bodies have no trace evidence. No EMF, no sulfur, no nothing to suggest anything at all."
"You mean, there was no DNA on this body?"
"They hadn't processed any of that yet," Sam replied. "I bet there will be DNA, but nothing that can get us anywhere."
"Well, then, you're gonna wanna hear this," she said. "I spoke to that witness that was there when McConner's body dropped."
"How did that go?"
"Her name is Asmita Banuelos. She told me that she saw this man running from multiple assailants before he was cornered and beaten down by at least five individuals."
"Did she describe them?" Sam asked.
"Not really. She said they could've been women, but all she really saw was that they weren't as tall as he was."
"The man was six foot four," he replied. "Pretty much everyone is shorter than he is."
"Yeah, but she called it in," Dodge said. "Which gives us a location of the assailants, a time frame, and plenty of opportunities for us to catch their faces on security footage."
She waved her arm over to a large box with assorted media for video: memory stick, hard drive, even a few DVDs.
"So, should I get popcorn?" Sam asked.
"Not too much," she replied. "I can only stay until Marie gets here, which should be today."
"Your FBI partner?" Sam asked.
"When she's here, I've got to play by the book. That means staying the motel the FBI booked for me, all that jazz."
Sam bit his tongue and nodded. "Right, your turf. Where do we start?"
<<< Previous Part:
Part One: Shooting Dice
Next Part: >>>
Part Three: Thumbed Pages
Primary Post: 10x00 Dreaming from the Waist
Primary Post: Season 10 Fan Fiction