Mistakes and Monsters Chapter Four.

[lickerdysplit]

Thanks be to lilaeth, I have worked out how to do cuts. Ahem. (Yes, it was about time).


Sam had finished reciting the incantation and had helped Dean keep the girl on the bed. She was thrashing wildly by then, still apparently unconscious. She had flailed around so much she had bruised her face on the night-stand, and caught Dean in the mouth with her arm. They ended up both kneeling on her, hard, Dean on her arms and Sam on her legs, to keep her from hurting herself.

Eventually, the thrashing stopped, and Sam eased himself up off the bed.

He checked Claire’s breathing, and said, “Hey, we’re done.”

“Yeah?” Dean stood up cautiously.

They stood there for a short while, just to be safe.

Claire’s breathing was regular and deep. Her face was peaceful. Both brothers heaved a sigh of relief.

“Man,” Dean said, touching a fist to his bleeding lip. “Is that it? It’s out of her for good?”

“According to the stories,” Sam said, sitting down on the chair barring the bathroom door.

“So we just gotta find the nest and kill it, then?”

“Yeah,” Sam said tiredly, “and the nest could be anywhere. And would take us days to find even if we weren’t being chased by every law enforcement agency known to man.”

Dean thought about this.

“The nest,” he said eventually, “it’s going to be somewhere close, right? They work back towards the nest. So we’re going east from town.”

Sam saw where he was going. “This motel is east from town.”

“There is a handy patch of woods just across the highway. Can’t hurt to have a look.”

Sam heaved himself up.

“Okay. And then we’re going.”

“No argument from me,” Dean said.

Something primal.

Agent Reid drove the sedan, with Agent Hendrickson riding shotgun and Chief Byrne smoking again in the back. Each man felt in his bones that this was a good lead.

“Agent Reid,” Byrne said, catching his eye in the rear view mirror, “How is it that these two aren’t higher up on the list? The list you fellas run?”

Reid wrinkled his upper lip for a time.

“The list is hard to get into. Very exclusive club.”

“So bank robbery, kidnapping, serial murder… these things don’t qualify you anymore?”

Reid shook his head.

Byrne looked out of his window. “Man. Times do change.”

“This latest set, though, that might do it for them. Men who kill women are dime a dozen. Men who kill children, now, that’s a different story. With them being brothers…some people are getting very interested in the whole thing. If we can tie them to this, solidly…”

Reid looked across at Hendrickson.

“We can chase them for real.” Hendrickson twisted in his seat.

“What have you been doing up ‘til now?”

“We’ve been limited. Just me and him.” Reid shrugged.

Byrne thought about this.

“And now there’s four of you.”

Reid dipped his head and said, “Yup. Higher profile case this time.”

“More pressure on you, though, right?” The sedan passed out of the town limits and headed out into the country. The darkness descended, with only stars to light the sky.

“Ah, pressure,”’ said Reid dismissively.

“We love pressure,” Hendrickson chimed in.

“Who doesn’t?” The Chief pursed his lips. “You two got families? Wives?”

Both the agents shook their heads; no.

“Better.” The Chief stretched his arms out wide. “Better like that.”

They all watched the dim shapes of trees appear and disappear by the side of the road. Agent Reid started to hum.

“Agent Lee,” the Chief said presently. “What is it that he does?”

“The same as Agent Weiss.” Reid caught the Chief’s eye in the mirror again. “He just doesn’t like talking in front of people.”

“Kind of a handicap for an FBI agent, ain’t it?”

Hendrickson grinned. “Don’t let him fool you, Chief,” he said, “both those shrinks are great at what they do. They play this game with each other.”

“Hmm.” The Chief seemed to have something on his mind.

The FBI guys just waited.

“Is the Bureau expecting you four to be on TV?”

“Why do you ask, Chief?” Hendrickson asked, mock-innocently.

“Weeeeellll,” said Chief Byrne, drawing the word out, “seems to me that you all are remarkably varied, ethnicity-wise. Seems maybe the Bureau might be using this case as a public relations opportunity. ‘See how we represent all facets of our society.’ That type of thing.”

“Look, we have women!” Reid said.

“And, golly, people who aren’t white!” mugged Hendrickson

“Uh-huh.”

“The Bureau would never do that, Chief,” Hendrickson said.

“Not our Bureau. Our Bureau is colour-blind.”

“Glad we cleared that up then.”

They all burst out laughing.

They were still chuckling when they pulled up to the motel office and bailed out of the car. Agent Reid went and badged the clerk, while Byrne and Hendrickson took the time to scout around. The clerk looked at the photos Reid showed him. The men standing outside could see how vigorously he nodded; Reid turned to them and mouthed the number ‘17’ through the glass. Hendrickson and Byrne were off before he had a chance to get out of the office. Reid motioned that he was going around back, and disappeared. Hendrickson banged hard on the door of No. 17 and Byrne stood by, weapon drawn and ready.

Hendrickson kicked the door once and the cheap wood splintered inwards. Byrne ducked in and Hendrickson followed, going to the left. Both of them clocked the girl on the bed, the disarray in the room, the door wedged under the bathroom door handle. Hendrickson worked towards the chair while Byrne covered him. Hendrickson swung the door open to find Marie, intact, waiting patiently for them to come inside.

“They’re gone,” she said, as they took in the scene, “they went across to the woods for something. I couldn’t hear what they were saying. They’ve gone to the woods.”

“You okay here?” Hendrickson said to Byrne.

“I’ll call this in,” said the Chief. “You get after them.”

Hendrickson bolted out of the room.

As he approached the road, he thought he saw a familiar shape ahead of him.

“Dammit, Reid,” he hissed, and ran faster.

*

Sam and Dean were standing in the ruins of an old hunting shack, in what was left of the creature’s nest, and slightly in what was left of the creature, in Dean’s case.

“Ah, God, that is disgusting,” Dean groaned, shaking his foot and moving to the right.

Sam produced some lighter fluid and a book of matches. Dean rummaged in his pocket for the salt. Sam set fire to the remains on the floor, and Dean prepared to use the salt. Just before he did, the light from the flames illuminated something previously hidden by the gloom.

“Oh, no,” Sam said.

“Oh no what?” Dean asked, and then followed Sam’s gaze.

In the corner of the ruined room, Dean’s eyes lighted on a blanket, with some all-too-identifiable shapes underneath it.

“Oh, man,” Dean said.

As one man, the brothers walked slowly towards the heap in the corner. Dean crouched down and tweaked one corner of the blanket aside, revealing what they both dreaded and expected to see - the face of a child, pale and still.

“I count three,” Dean managed to say.

“Yeah.”

“Means there’s another nest.”

Sam felt his heart drop. “And another one of these god-awful things.”

And then, above the crackle of the flames, they heard the cold metal noise of a gun being cocked.

“FBI. Stay where you are.”

The brothers twisted around to see Agent Reid pointing his gun at them, disgust and horror etched onto his face.

“Hey, listen,” Dean began.

“Shut your mouth,” Reid told him. “Hands behind your heads, now.”

The brothers complied, slowly.

“Any ideas?” Sam mumbled.

“One, but you’re not going to like it.”

“When do I ever like your ideas?”

Taking this as approval, Dean said to Agent Reid, “What’s the matter? Never seen it before?”

“Dean,” Sam warned.

“Seen what?” Agent Reid trained his gun on Dean.

“Beauty,” Dean said simply.

“What?”

“Don’t you think they’re beautiful?” Dean’s voice had gone flat and icy.

“Stop talking right now,” Reid told him sharply.

It was at this moment that Sam would have gone for the bag of weapons that they had, just out of reach. It was at this moment, too, that Agent Hendrickson, having heard every word exchanged between Agent Reid and the brothers, would have rounded the corner and covered the brothers from behind. However, it was at this exact moment that the thing, the creature whose nest it was, sat up and screamed. Agent Reid’s eyes fairly popped out of his head.

“She’s still alive?!” he gasped, and made to help the thing.

“No!” Sam lunged for the agent while Dean went for his salt, but they were both too slow. The thing got its claws into Agent Reid and tore into his throat. Dean threw all of his salt at the burning monster and it screamed again, for the last time, staggering towards the second entrance and collapsing there, where it effectively blinded Agent Hendrickson. He winced sharply and wheeled away.

In the ruined cabin, Sam pulled Agent Reid away from the monster, trying desperately to halt the flow of blood with his hands. Blood coursed between his fingers and spilled down his arms. Dean skirted round the blazing creature and helped to lay the agent down on the ground.

“Wh-?” Reid spluttered.

“Don’t talk. Don’t talk.” Dean bundled his shirt into a ball and pressed it to Reid’s neck.

“Who…”

“Shh,” Sam said.

The brothers exchanged a look. The thing had done too much damage.

Agent Reid looked puzzled.

“Why…you…help?” he asked, indistinctly.

Dean looked steadily into Reid’s eyes. “It’s what we do.”

Reid whispered something else that they couldn’t hear.

“What?” Sam asked softly.

“Won’t believe.” Reid began to shake.

“Don’t matter,” Dean said. “Lie still.”

And with that, the shaking stopped. Agent Reid died there on the dirt floor, with Sam and Dean still trying to save him.

Dean stood up first, shaking Sam’s arm.

“Come on, Sammy. We gotta go.”

Sam looked up at his brother, bloodstained and panicky.

“We can’t just leave them here…”

At this Agent Hendrickson came into view, and saw precisely what was in front of him. A shrine to dead children. A blazing corpse. His partner, dead. And the Winchester brothers, soaked in blood and sweat, in the middle of it all.

Hendrickson roared something primal, gun hand wavering not an inch.

Dean feinted left and then dropped to the floor, as the gun fired somewhere to his right.

Sam said, “Sorry,” and threw the rest of the lighter fluid in the direction of the smouldering monster, ducking as he did so.

The container exploded. Agent Hendrickson grunted as the blast flung him into a wall.

Sam scrabbled to his feet, pulling Dean with him.

“Let’s go. Let’s go, Dean. Now.”

Dean gestured hopelessly at the mess they were leaving. “He heard what I said. He’s going to think…”

“They already think it, Dean.” Sam tugged harder at Dean’s arm. “Let’s go!”

Dean looked around at the horrific scene one more time. He darted to the blanket and covered the child’s face. Agent Reid’s eyes were staring, unseeing, up at the North Star.

Agent Hendrickson was already stirring.

They went.