Monster in the Mirror 6/?
Chapter 6
With one of them out for the count and two with most likely mild concussions there was not much they could do at the moment than to sleep it off. Not that they had any idea where to look for the shifter anyhow, he wouldn't come back to his house and what he looked like at the moment they could only guess.
Their only lead was the house and Victor offered to do the research he could do online while the others rest and tomorrow they would do the legwork. No wandering off alone was the motto of the day. As if going in pairs had worked out that well in the past.
With a cup of coffee and a sigh Victor turned his laptop on while Gerry went to bed and was asleep seconds later. The shifter must had hit her hard on the head but she didn't complain.
In the next room Dean would have to deal with similar injuries but Victor doubted that he would sleep as deeply as Gerry. Not with an injured Sam right next to him.
How it was like to get the shit kicked out of you by something wearing a face you'd trust with your life, Victor had no idea. And for sure he didn't want to know how it felt like to wake up after that with said face hovering right over you. But Sam didn't seem afraid of Dean, as far as Victor could tell.
Using some of the tricks Sam had shown him Victor found out that the house the shifter apparently had lived in belonged to a John Smith. Could a name be fake more obviously? Victor shook his head in amusement. He would never say a word about the Winchesters' aliases again.
John Smith had bought the house five years ago, right before the first couple Gerry had found got into a major marital quarrel.
"Disguising as the partner, sleeping with the girl and then taking them to the cleaner's." Victor muttered under his breath, he didn't want to wake Gerry. "Sick fucker."
Victor didn't find more information and frustrated he shut the laptop. With nothing left to do he turned in early. To his surprise he slept like a baby most of the night.
He didn't dream of Foster or the vampires which was nice but when Victor woke up in the morning he had the disturbing picture of a muzzle in his mind. In his dream it had even looked bigger, ready to swallow him whole.
Covered in cold sweat Victor sat for a moment breathing hard. Morning twilight lightened the room but it would still be at least an hour before the sun was up. However, Victor doubted he could go back to sleep.
In the next bed Gerry was snoring softly and Victor slipped silently in the bathroom without disturbing her.
Brushing his teeth Victor wondered what he should do till the others woke up. Considering they were more or less injured he decided to do something nice and get breakfast.
Going out alone wasn't the brightest idea, he knew that, but he figured a quick run to the diner would be rather safe. So Victor left a note and grabbed the motel key.
The diner was close enough so he didn't have to take one of the cars - as if the Impala was even an option - and Victor enjoyed the walk in the cool morning air. Hands deep in his pockets he breathed off the tension in his body. Yesterday hadn't been one of his best and the unsettling dream still lingered in his mind.
This early in the morning the diner was nearly empty. Just one sleepy looking customer who tried to fight off the tiredness with coffee with questionable success.
Victor placed his order and then took a seat with a cup of coffee for himself while he waited for the food.
"Feeding a company?" The waitress behind the counter asked.
"Just two growing men, myself and a grumpy old woman." Victor replied with a curl of his lips and a look over his shoulder to make sure that Gerry hadn't decided to materialize right behind him.
"You are staying at the motel." She nodded to herself and filled up his cup. "Family?"
She kept her questions short but not impolite.
"No, no." Victor answered quickly. "We work together."
Just the thought of calling the Winchesters or Gerry family was amusing. Not that the Winchesters would let anybody wiggle his way into their relationship. Maybe Bobby could be considered as family but the rest of the world? Not so much.
With a "thank you" Victor got the three brown paper bags in one hand and balanced the tray with the coffee in the other and he really hoped that he won't spill everything on his way back.
Back at the motel he knocked at the door of the Winchesters' room and was greeted with a not really awake Dean in his sleep wear and bed-hair and one hand behind his back.
"I got breakfast." Victor hold up his treasure and he could practically see how the smell of the coffee put some life in the other man.
"You know this time actually counts as night, don't you?" Dean muttered but stepped aside and motioned for him to put the stuff on the table. When he turned back to Dean the gun wasn't any longer hidden behind his back and in the other hand he hold his phone.
"Smile." Dean said and then nodded satisfied and put the gun back under his pillow.
"How is Sam?" Victor asked. Sam was still asleep in the other bed and if he had moved over night he couldn't tell.
"He's fine." Dean insisted with his arms crossed over his chest and if his next step put him between Victor and his defenseless brother, it was purely accidental, right? Victor decided to not point that out.
"I'll get Gerry." Victor backed off.
"You know you are lucky that we know it's a shifter, right?" Gerry asked and put her phone away. "The camera test wouldn't work with most of the other sons of bitches out there."
She hadn't been pleased that he went out for breakfast on his own.
"I wouldn't mind cutting you with a silver knife every time you pull such a stupid stunt." She muttered and tried to comb her hair with her fingers. She looked like a grown up Curly Sue but Victor didn't dare to say that.
"Let me out of your kinky fantasies." He said instead and nodded towards the bathroom. "Why don't you get ready before Dean can eat it all by himself?"
Even Sam joined them for breakfast but by the way he hunched down on his chair he wasn't up for anything today. After a night's sleep Dean and Gerry were as good as new or so they pretended to be and the conversation quickly turned on the case.
"The house belongs to a John Smith." Victor told them around a mouth full of scrambled eggs. "Bought it right before this all started."
"That's not exactly helpful." Dean said but never let his eyes off his brother. Which was probably good because Sam looked like he was about to collapse face first into his pancakes. Pancakes he hadn't eaten more than a bite or two of.
"We have a name." Gerry pointed out. "An obvious fake name, but it's a name. We can start from there." She gave Victor an encouraging smile. While the others had slept he had found a lead, that wasn't that bad, wasn't it? Maybe he wasn't a complete failure after all or so he hoped.
"We have to find out more about this John Smith." Sam said his first words of the day. His voice was rough and when he swallowed he winced in pain. Judging by the marks on his throat it had to hurt. Victor couldn't recall it but at some point the fake Dean must have strangled him.
Sam's face was swollen and in full color by now and his left eye refused to open more than half way. And that were only the injuries Victor could see. The way Sam moved he was sore all over, maybe had some bruised rips.
Despite all the damage done to him by something wearing his brother's face Sam didn't even flinch when Dean used a napkin on his mouth where his fat lip couldn't keep all the coffee in.
Sam tried to bat the offending thing away, though, but his movement was way too slow.
"Dean." He whined but finally let his brother clean him up like he was a little child again. In Victor's opinion Sam should consider himself lucky that Dean didn't use spit to do it.
After that Dean brought his brother some pills and a glass of water which Sam accepted without complain. At Victor's side Gerry snickered.
"What?" Victor hissed.
"Can you believe they are bad-ass hunters?" She whispered back in a low voice obviously trying to keep the conversation between the two of them and obviously failing.
"We are awesome." Dean insisted and Sam sat up straighter to shrug off the vulnerable look. "Okay, Sammy. Back to bed."
"What? No." Sam stared at his brother in disbelieve. "I'm coming with you."
"Dude, we are three people." Dean tried to reason with him. "No need for you to drag your sorry ass out there to sit for hours in a stinky library."
"Dean's right." Gerry entered the conversation. "You should sit out the research part so you are back with us when we get this sucker."
Sam thought about that but the decision was taken away from him when Dean manhandled him back to bed and tucked him in. It was telling how easy Dean could do that.
"Stop sulking." Dean gave him a playful pat on the head. "Look I even turn the TV on for you."
The TV flickered to life and Sam flipped his brother off. Ignoring that Dean zapped through the channels and stopped at a local station with the news.
A female reporter stood in front of what looked like a gas station with flashing lights and people in uniform all around her.
"What at first started as a robbery quickly turned out into a massacre." The reporter said in that uninterested cold tone of her profession. "The owner, an employee and a customer were first shot and then brutally slaughtered with a knife. The police is looking for this man." A picture clearly taken from a security camera showed a man pointing a gun at the cashier with a woman - presumably the afore mentioned customer - standing next by. The third victim wasn't in the scene. "The suspect is an Afro-American in his late thirties to early forties. He is bald and wears a beard. The suspect is considered as armed and highly dangerous. Please contact the police in case you have any information about this man."
They showed a close-up of the man. The angle wasn't that good but Victor would recognize his own face everywhere.
He stared at the screen and tried to make sense out of what he was seeing. Every sound was sucked out of the room and he wasn't sure if he was even breathing. This couldn't be. This wasn't happening. That wasn't him. He hadn't done this. Black spots crept into his vision and he reminded himself to take a breath. His chest was too tight but he gulped in a mouthful of air, anyway.
"I didn't …" He had no idea what he wanted to say. That wasn't him, they would believe him, right? That had been the shifter, it had to be.
Slowly Victor looked around to find the others still glued to the TV where the reporter kept talking. It was all muffled and Victor didn't understand a word she was saying.
"I didn't." He repeated.
continue to chapter 7
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