When the Night Fades Away (Sam Winchester/Will Graham; R) 2/3
chapter 1
Will woke to a stranger peering down at him. She was wearing a riding cap-full riding gear, he realized as he sat up.
“Hey there,” she said, smirking. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” Will asked, reflexively. Sam stirred beside him, and sat up, sharply alert, muscles tense. Will put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, hoping it would be reassuring. Whoever this was, they weren’t a threat. Will could smell it, hear it in her steady heartbeat. She was perfectly calm.
“Margot Verger. You’re in my stables.” Her smirk grew into a smile. “Looks like you could use a shower.”
“You don’t even know who we are, and you’re inviting us to take showers?” Will asked. It was as much a statement as a question. If she did know who they were, she might turn them both in.
“No clue. But you’re pack. They trust you.” She nodded her heads at the dogs. “And they’re great judges of character.”
Will didn’t tell her they were his dogs but they did a terrible job keeping that fact secret, particularly Winston who thumped his tail happily against Will’s leg the entire walk across the grounds.
#
After giving them both a chance to shower, and sets of clean clothing that fit Will fairly well but were too tight on Sam, Margot had shown them to a smaller dining room, relatively speaking, with fourteen foot high ceilings and window walls that overlooked the sprawling acres of the Verger estate. The sun had just started to rise, casting a warm pink glow across the fields.
“More tea?” Margot asked, eyeing Will’s empty cup. Sam had barely touched his.
“No, thank you, I’m uh…” Will looked up at her, considered whether she’d maybe called the cops on them after all and dismissed it instantly. She hadn’t. Either because she didn’t fear them or because she didn’t want police attention. Both scenarios carried implications. “This isn’t really a typical response to finding strangers on your property.”
“Well, I’m not typical,” she smiled, hints of dimples showing on her cheeks. “Neither are you two.”
Sam’s expression flickered for an instant, from tired but carefully neutral to suspicious. Will knew him well enough at this point to read those tiny little shifts in his eyes and the curves of his mouth. “Why are you helping us?” Will asked.
“Because Margot’s a good person,” another voice said from just outside the kitchen. Alana’s voice, Will realized, his belly tightening. He hadn’t seen Alana since his trial; old shame ran hot up his cheeks, settling in the tips of his ears. He looked down at his empty teacup, avoiding her eyes.
“Will,” she said, coming closer. She stood next to him silently, waiting for him to look up at her before putting her hand gently on his. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Okay is all relative,” he said.
“True. Who’s your friend?” she asked.
“Sam,” he said, holding out his hand in greeting.
“Alana Bloom.” She shook his hand, and gave him a quick once-over. Her mouth pursed slightly, brow furrowing just for a moment before she chased it away. Will recognized the look. She knew Sam was in pain, but didn’t know why yet. Sooner or later she’d figure it out.
“So, this is the infamous Will Graham,” Margot said, pouring herself a cup. “I heard all about you.”
Will smiled stiffly. “Hopefully there was some good involved.”
“Plenty. And you?” Margot turned her attention to Sam. “What’s your deal?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Aren’t we all?” She raised her chin, nostrils flaring as she scented the air. “You look human, but you smell like something more. When I found you, both of you were covered in blood that wasn't your own."
Sam ground his teeth, but didn’t answer.
“You’re a hunter.” Margot raised one perfect eyebrow. “I know all about hunters and how they think they’re ridding the world of evil.”
“Maybe we should leave,” Will said.
"Don’t worry," Margot continued. "I have no intention of calling the police. I want to help you, but we need to get something out of the way first." She turned her gaze on Will. "You ran to the stables on all fours, while sporting a spectacular pair of antlers. Alana didn’t mention anything like that when she talked about you."
"It’s...a fairly new condition," Will said.
"Security cameras?" Sam asked.
"Of course. But don't worry, nobody else has seen the footage. I took care of that."
"Margot-" Will chewed on his lip. "Alana-thanks for your help, and for not turning us in. But we really don't want to be a burden. We'll just be on our way."
“Don’t be ridiculous. Where else are you going to find people who really understand?” Margot asked, smiling wide, teeth bared, and growing sharper. She held her hand up, like she was checking her nails, and as she did, they lengthened and sharpened, growing darker and thicker until she had five dagger sharp claws. “I mean really understand.”
Shocked, Will looked from Margot to Alana, who seemed completely unfazed. She knew.
Alana chuckled. “Turns out this world is a lot weirder than I ever thought possible.”
Will scoffed. “You’re telling me.”
“What were you running from?” Margot asked, fully human-looking again.
“A...uh. A Horseman of the Apocalypse,” Will said.
“Famine,” Sam added, clasping his hands in front of him on the table. He’d relaxed minutely, but was still guarded.
“Is that Famine’s class ring?” Will asked, nodding at Sam’s fingers.
Sam flexed his knuckles, and a glint of light caught the polished black stone set in metal. He curved his other hand almost protectively around the ring. “Yeah.”
Will cocked an eyebrow. “Did he give it to you?”
Sam shook his head. “No. I uh-killed him, I think. Or stopped him. I don’t think these guys can actually be killed.”
“By yourself?” Will’s brow furrowed. “The last thing I remember before I changed...there were demons. Did you-“
Sam chewed on his lip before answering, “I had to.”
“I see.” Will rubbed his hands over the knees of his pants. “And...how are you holding up?”
“I think the ring is helping, somehow.” Sam looked at Will with guilt and shame banked behind his hazel eyes. “I can keep it at bay.”
“Huh. Shouldn’t it do the opposite?”
“You’d think so.”
“What happens if you take it off?”
Sam’s jaw twitched. “Nothing good.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Will said, and he nearly sounded convincing.
“Clearly you two could use some help,” Margot said.
“No,” Sam said, “Thank you, but what we're fighting-these aren’t just monsters. They can level cities just by walking through them.”
“If you’re about to tell us it’s not safe for us, don’t bother,” Margot said. “If the world’s in danger of ending, I intend to fight for it.” She took Alana’s Hand and squeezed it affectionately.
“Trust me on this, Will,” Alana said. “Whatever it is, no matter how bad-how insurmountable it is. Margot can help.”
“It’s the end of the world,” Sam said.
“Then let’s stop it from ending.” Margot said. “Two shapeshifters and-” she gestured at Sam, “I’m not sure what you can do yet, but apparently you kill demons. We can keep the world from ending.”
“I can’t control what I do,” Will said. “It just happens, like an instinct, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Well, there’s definitely something we can do about that.” Margot winked at him. “Come on, let’s get to know each other better.”
Will was taken aback for a second but then realized she was right. Whoever she was, she could clearly control her own transformations easily. And more importantly, Alana trusted her. He stood, nodding. “Okay.”
“Wait a minute,” Sam said, reaching instinctively for Will’s arm as he passed.
“It’s okay, Sam. Alana is somebody we can trust, and she trusts Margot.” He looked at Sam a moment longer, cupping his shoulder. “Or wait. Will you be okay?”
Sam flinched, almost imperceptibly. “I’ll be fine.” He covered Will’s hand with his own and pulled it off gently, giving it a soft squeeze. “Go.”
Will have him what he hoped was an encouraging smile and trailed after Margot, exiting through the highly arched hallway.
#
They stood there, side by side, listening to the grunting and squealing of the pigs below. Margot had decided a tour of the pens was in order. Will found himself fascinated by their constant movement, the undercurrent of agitation that hung all around them.
Margot slipped off her jacket and hung it on a nearby hook. As she lowered her arm, Will saw a raised pink scar coming down from her shoulder, hidden only partially by her short-sleeved blouse. The scar was wide and jagged, and had the look of torn flesh to it. “Were you attacked?” he asked, before considering how obvious the answer was.
“Yes, but not by a werewolf.” She pulled her sleeve back further showing more of the scar. “My brother was a monster,” Margot said, letting the blouse fall back into place. “Not like us, not a shifter, or a vampire or anything. Just a sadistic piece of human trash.” She nodded down at the pen below them. “He hated the business part of the family business, but he loved the pigs. He loved how they’d turn on each other when pushed, he loved branding them, said their screams sounded like people.” She took a breath and straightened, manicured finger-tips curling over the railing. “Mason used to say that I screamed just like them.”
Will looked at her. She seemed calm and collected, but there was a pain-riddled weight to those words.
“He branded me, he cut me, he-“ she looked away. “He took from me, over and over until I was less than him. Less than a person.”
The herd below them had grown quieter. They were moving towards the back of the pen, snuffling at the air.
“The first time I shifted was after he-” Margot cut herself off, started again. “I was on the floor, where he’d left me, and I couldn’t even get myself to stand up. There was this awful buzzing quiet in my head. Like my eardrums had been blown out. I wasn’t angry anymore or afraid, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I’d died. And then when I stood up and saw the blood dripping down my legs I felt myself coming back to life.” She held her hand out to Will, and as he watched her fingers lengthened and widened, bones shifting wider apart. Her nails darkened and grew outward, curving into razor-sharp claws. “Reborn.”
Will’s heart sped as he felt his own insides shifting. A bead of sweat formed on his brow, and he wiped at it absently, unable to take his eyes off of Margot’s, which had gone the color of cornflowers.
“I didn’t understand what was happening, but the first time I howled, the first time I ran across my land on all fours, the first time I hunted with my teeth instead of on horseback, it felt right, it was like I’d finally found a missing part of myself.”
“What happened to Mason?” Will asked. “Did you...did you hunt him?”
“Yes.” Margot smiled. “I tore out his heart and ate it, and I fed the rest of him to his pigs.”
The bone-deep satisfaction in her voice was so clear it felt like his own. He imagined doing the same to Hannibal, found that no, if anyone tore him apart it would have to be himself, his own hands and teeth. “Show me,” he said. “I need to learn how to control this.”
Margot nodded. “It’s not that complicated. All you have to accept is that what’s inside you is you. Not an other you, not a mindless beast, just you. With all your needs and hungers and none of your fears or hang-ups.” She smiled at him, over-wide and as Will watched, her teeth sharpened, and her jaw changed, reaching forward, becoming more elongated as her skin began to sprout fur.
Sweating, Will instinctively pushed back the impulse inside of him, realized what he was doing and stopped himself. Pushing it in had done far more harm than good. With a deep, slow exhale he opened his eyes, and let go.
##
Beverly swallowed down the taste of bile at the back of her throat as she opened the next freezer, and the next. Hannibal had three oversized freezers full of meat. Will had been right all along, and the extent of his atrocities was so much greater than they’d thought. If these were only trophies, then the sheer volume of his victims was much, much larger. They’d been wrong, they’d been so wrong.
Only then did Beverly remember to take photos. Evidence, she needed evidence of this horror. Her heart thudded in her chest. If she thought she could get away with it, she’d grab one of the sealed ziploc bags filled with-
“He’s upstairs,” a voice said. A familiar one, but one that felt out of place.
Beverly spun towards the voice, for the moment completely disoriented. It has been jarring enough to discover what Hannibal had done, what he was. What Will had known he was, and the rest of them had been unwilling to see. From the shadows at the other side of the basement, a figure stepped into the light. “Mrs. Crawford?”
“In a few seconds, he’ll open the door. He’ll know someone entered his home and he’ll come down here.”
“Bella?” Beverly repeated, the sense of dread in her gut growing stronger. The woman across from her looked like Bella, but her smile was a stranger’s and her voice had an odd echoing lilt to it, like the distant tolling of bells.
“But don’t be afraid. He will not find you.” Bella’s un-Bella-like smile widened. “You’ll be far away. Delivering a message.”
“A message,” Beverly repeated. “Yes. We have to tell Jack. We have to tell him Will was right, Hannibal is the killer we’ve been looking for. He’s the Ripper.“
“This thing called Hannibal is currently being inhabited by my brother.”
“Your brother?” Beverly’s confusion grew to new heights. Bella didn’t have any siblings, as far as she knew.
“My brother, Lucifer.”
“Lucifer?” That sense of dread in her gut made it impossible to laugh off the declaration, no matter how ludicrous. “As in the devil?”
Bella’s smile vanished. “Your name for him, not ours,” she said, voice ice-cold. “He will return here, and when he finds you, he will erase you from existence. Your brief flicker of life will end.”
Beverly felt rigid with fear. She would’ve been angry about it if she wasn’t so full to the brim with terror. “How do I get out?”
As though she herself had no cause for alarm, Bella continued, smiling beatifically. “Tell Sam Winchester that Michael has found a vessel.” She reached her hand out slowly, and Beverly fought the urge to shrink away. Though she still looked like the lovely woman Beverly had known for years, there was something unmistakably different about Bella; something unearthly and immensely powerful. When her fingers brushed gracefully against Beverly’s forehead, they left trails of storms in their wake-storms of purifying vengeance that siphoned her up like an ant into a hurricane, and carried her away.
##
Sam twisted the ring on his finger, turning it a centimeter counterclockwise and clockwise, back and forth; the skin beneath was turning red from the friction. He could still feel his insides churning and that bone-deep ravenous ache, but it was all muted through multiple layers of sound-proof opaque glass. When he pulled the ring up-just over the edge of his knuckle, no further, the layers thinned, and the pain became clearer, stabbing at his gut, fire in his veins.
“If I’d met you a year ago, this would’ve been a much easier diagnosis,” Alana said, disrupting Sam’s swirling thoughts.
The leather creaked under Sam as he shoved the ring back down and shifted in his seat. “How’s that?” he asked, looking up at the psychologist across from him. His eyes were drawn back to the massive bookshelves behind her, twenty shelves high-polished dark pine, with rolling ladders to reach the highest tiers. He’d spent the first few minutes in this room scanning the shelves, trying not to drool so obviously. Margot had obscure long out-of-print volumes on werewolves he’d only seen referenced in other well-known texts, including four framed hand-inked pages from the 1600s, preserved in a climate-controlled display box.
Alana cleared her throat. “A year ago I would have known, without doubt, that everything you’ve told me so far-about you having demon blood, about Lucifer and the end of days-I would have known that you were experiencing a pronounced religious psychosis.”
Sam smiled ruefully. “I wish that were true.”
Alana raised an eyebrow. “You’d prefer psychosis?”
“Of course. If it was all just in my head, then all the people-all the thousands of people-that Lucifer and the Horsemen have killed would still be alive.”
“What they’ve done is your fault?”
“Lucifer is free because of me. The Apocalypse started because of me.”
Alana nodded thoughtfully. “When I first met Margot, her brother was still alive. Mason was a monster. Not the kind with fangs or fur. He was human. But he was the most inhuman, cruel person I’ve ever met.”
Sam couldn’t help but ask, “You've met Hannibal, right?”
Alana smiled bitterly at him. “Hannibal is a monster, but he’s not cruel for cruelty’s sake. Mason was a sadist. In my book, that makes him worse.” Her smile faded completely. "And his favorite person to torment was Margot.” Alana’s eyes had gone hard as steel. “If she hadn’t killed him, I would have.”
“I’m sorry for what happened to Margot, and what the two of you went through, I really am. But why are you telling me this?”
“Because there’s evil in this world, and often, that evil is adept at manipulation. You were manipulated by someone who many believe is the original manipulator. You did what you thought was right, and inadvertently made things worse. That doesn’t make you evil.”
Sam huffed bitterly. “I’ve had demon blood in me since I was a baby.”
“You going to tell me how that’s your fault, too?”
“No, but it means that I’m…” Sam averted his eyes, looking down at the veins in his hands. “I’m tainted.”
Alana cocked an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a load of crap. Our blood doesn’t dictate our actions. If you claim it does then you’re just looking for an excuse.”
Sam let out a slow breath, clasping his hands together, still compelled to keep arguing. “Because of the blood, I have these...powers. And I convinced myself that I could use them for good.”
“Did you?”
“Convince myself?”
“Use them for good?”
“Yeah.” Sam chewed on his lip. “At first, anyway. I saved people. Exorcised demons, without killing the hosts.”
“And that felt good-doing good, saving them?”
Sam nodded.
“That doesn’t sound even remotely evil to me.”
“I had to drink more blood to do it.”
“Demon blood. From the people you saved?”
“No, from one demon. Her body-the one she possessed, the woman it belonged to had already died...there was no other soul in there, just her.”
Alana’s eyebrows crept up, just a hair.
“The angels told me to stop.”
“There are angels, too?”
Sam nodded.
“You’ve met them?”
“Some. Two of them threatened to kill me.”
Alana shook her head. “I’d say you should write a book, if the world wasn’t crumbling around us.”
Sam’s jaw twitched. “It’s crumbling because of me. I freed Lucifer. I didn’t mean to, but I did.”
“So the angels should’ve killed you?”
Sam scoffed. “They were never going to. They wanted me to-“ he combed his fingers through his hair. “Fulfill my destiny. They wanted this.” He gestured to the windows.
“Wow. The angels sound like dicks.”
“They really are.”
Alana watched him for a beat. “Power in and of itself isn’t evil. It has the ability to corrupt, but if you still see what you did as wrong, if you want to help set things right, then you’re not evil.”
“I want to set things right. I’m just not sure I can trust myself anymore. Every time I think I’m doing the right thing, I make it worse.”
“I’d say you tried to do the right thing despite being manipulated every step of the way. Quite frankly, I’m impressed you didn’t try to kill the angels.”
“Day’s still young.” Sam said with a smirk.
“Let’s talk about how to set things right,” Alana said. And her smile seemed genuine enough.
This stranger barely knew him, but despite knowing about the darkest sides of him, she trusted him enough to be alone in a room with him. Sam’s chest clenched as a wave of gratefulness washed through him, leaving him shaky. He wiped surreptitiously at his tearing eyes, and suppressed a sniffle. “Okay, um...we have to figure out how to get Lucifer back in his cage.”
##
The grass felt soft beneath Will’s hooves as he flew across the acres of land beside Margot. He’d kept pace with her the last few miles, reveling in how easily the speed came to him now. Something about shifting by choice had made the entire experience far less of a struggle-like he’d unlocked a whole different side to what he could do.
Margot pushed ahead, her sleek dark grey form disappearing between the pine trees lining the open fields. He followed her in, slowing just enough to navigate between the trees as the scent of pine and tree flooded his senses. It was thrilling to run without the panicked feel of being pursued and he felt himself picking up speed just because he could.
Ahead of him, Margot let out a sharp warning bark and came skidding to a halt. Will slowed behind her just in time to see the air shimmer, undulating as with intense heat for a moment. When it stilled again, Beverly Katz was standing in front of them. She saw Margot and gasped and then let out a quiet “what the fuck” when Margot shifted back into human form.
“Sorry, about the nudity,” Margot said by way of greeting. She nodded to Will expectantly.
He hesitated for a moment. Beverly was his friend and had been his colleague, but on the other hand, she’d just appeared out of thin air, so maybe nudity wasn’t as big of a deal in the greater scheme of things. He pawed at the earth with his hoof, trying to steady himself enough to shift back. It didn’t come quite as easily, the transformation coming in short bursts-bones shortening, the antlers sticking as they slid back inside of him. He tried to ignore Beverly’s muttered curses, though she now sounded more fascinated than terrified.
Still breathing heavily, Will rolled his shoulders back as the last of his fur and feathers retracted. He forced as much of a smile as he could manage and waved weakly to Beverly. “Hi.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Beverly said.
#
Footsteps sounded down the hall, pulling Sam out of his Apocalypse-101 lesson with Alana. Margot entered the room with Will and a woman.
“All kinds of surprise guests today. This one appeared out of thin air,” Margot said.
“Beverly?” Alana looked nearly as shocked as the newcomer. “What are you--”
“I’m sorry, it’s been a really long day--” Beverly said, holding up her hands, “morning. Whatever.”
“Need a drink?” Margot asked.
“Oh god, yes.”
“Never too early for mimosas,” Margot said walking back out of the room.
#
“Okay, so, let me repeat this back to make sure I heard you all correctly,” Beverly said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You turn into a feathered deer,” she pointed at Will; “you’re a werewolf,” she pointed at Margot, and then to Sam, “and you’ve got demon blood.”
“That’s the short version,” Alana said. “Want to tell us how you learned to teleport?”
“I didn’t,” Beverly downed the rest of her mimosa. “I was at Hannibal’s-“
Will nearly jumped out of his seat. “Hannibal’s-was he there?”
“No. But…” Beverly shook her head. “You were right, Will. He is the Ripper. I found freezers full of-“ she cut herself off and then kept going. “Cuts of his victims. I was going to take pictures, and then Bella Crawford appears out of nowhere.”
“Kind of like you did?” Margot asked.
Beverly nodded absently. “And she says Hannibal’s coming and I need to leave.” She looked up at Sam. “She said to tell you Michael has found his vessel.”
Sam felt the blood drain from his face. “Michael. Did she-did she say who Michael’s vessel was?”
Beverly shook her head. “Sorry. That’s all she said, and then I was out there in the field staring at a wolf and a deer who both turned into people-one of whom is my friend.”
“I’m sorry-I have to make a call,” Sam said, grabbing for his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Will asked, watching him with concern.
Sam swallowed. “Michael’s after Dean for the same reason Lucifer is after me.” Sam shoved aside his last bit of hesitation and made the call. He got Dean’s voicemail, but after the beep, couldn’t find the words. He pressed ‘end call’ instead, pushing the top edge of the phone against his head in frustration.
“I don’t think she meant Dean,” Will said from the door.
Sam turned to him, brow furrowing. “Why not?”
“From what I remember you telling me, angels can teleport other people, right?”
“Yeah…” Sam nodded, as it dawned on him what Will was getting at. “You think Michael possessed Bella Crawford.”
“It fits.”
“Then Bella’s in danger. She won’t be able to hold Michael for long.”
“So we have to get things moving.” Will glanced down at Sam’s hand. “You have Famine’s ring, we still need the other three.”
“Dean has War’s,” Sam said, “And Bobby said he had a lead on Pestilence, so--”
“We need Death’s.” Will let out an exasperated huff. “Easy, right?”
“Want to fill the rest of us in?” Margot said, entering the library.
#
“Angels can just possess people?” Beverly asked.
Sam nodded. “The only difference between angelic possession and demonic possession is that angels ask first.” He took a bite of his salad. “That and, angels are more likely to cause the vessel-the person they’re possessing-to explode.”
“Good to know.” Alana frowned. “We have to help Bella.”
“Why would she have agreed in the first place?” Margot asked.
“Bella’s got stage four lung cancer,” Beverly said. “Maybe Michael offered to heal her.”
“Very likely,” Sam said. “But she has to survive first if he’s going to heal her.”
“We need a plan,” Will said, nodding to himself. “Any chance we can come up with one that Lucifer won’t see coming?”
“Maybe, but only until he gets close to us,” Sam said. “Angels can read minds.”
“Well, then we’ve gotta think of something and forget about it,” Beverly said. “I know some drugs that could help with that.”
Sam stared at her, eyebrow cocked.
“I work in a crime lab. We know all kinds of things,” Beverly said, and gave him a wink.
#
“That’s not gonna work either,” Will said, finishing the last of the beer Margot had given him.
“I don’t think we have any other ideas.” Sam sighed, scratching absently behind Winston’s ears. Winston had taken a liking to him, resting his head on Sam’s thigh. Three other dogs were curled up around Will, and the warmth of all of them was calming Sam a lot. Which was good, because he had every reason to feel distinctly uncalm, right about now.
"I'm telling you," Beverly said, setting her empty bottle on the step by her feet. "We need to come up with a plan, but make it so nobody knows all the pieces, otherwise these guys'll be able to read our minds and stop us before we execute it, right?"
Sam looked out at the field, and the sky behind it, the last rays of the setting sun turning the sky burnt orange. It looked a little too much like fire for his liking. "It's a good idea, but we already know too much. We know about the rings, and if we can get all four of them together then that'll be on our minds, regardless of how we split up the tasks."
"Is there a way to keep them out of our heads?"
"Angels?" Sam sighed. "It's not easy. I have something to keep Lucifer from finding me, but if we're going to take him down, then nothing'll stop him from getting in my head."
"Let's sleep on it," Alana said, nudging Margot's shoulder. "World'll still be ending in the morning, right?"
Will laughed dryly. "That's the spirit." But he stood up and stretched, and held his hand down to Sam. "Shall we?"
Sam smiled at him and pushed himself to his feet, grabbing Will's hand as he stood. "Good night," he said, giving a wave to the women. He paused for a moment, considering the three of them. Alana and Beverly knew Will, but none of the three had known Sam prior to today. They knew what he was capable of, at least some of it, and they knew what Will could do. But they'd still agreed to help-even to help stop the apocalypse. Sam felt a pulse of gratitude at their generosity and bravery. "Thank you, for everything," he said, nodding to all of them, ending with Margot.
Margot held up her wine glass in a toast. "Here's to another weird day, tomorrow."
##
on to chapter 3
Will woke to a stranger peering down at him. She was wearing a riding cap-full riding gear, he realized as he sat up.
“Hey there,” she said, smirking. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” Will asked, reflexively. Sam stirred beside him, and sat up, sharply alert, muscles tense. Will put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, hoping it would be reassuring. Whoever this was, they weren’t a threat. Will could smell it, hear it in her steady heartbeat. She was perfectly calm.
“Margot Verger. You’re in my stables.” Her smirk grew into a smile. “Looks like you could use a shower.”
“You don’t even know who we are, and you’re inviting us to take showers?” Will asked. It was as much a statement as a question. If she did know who they were, she might turn them both in.
“No clue. But you’re pack. They trust you.” She nodded her heads at the dogs. “And they’re great judges of character.”
Will didn’t tell her they were his dogs but they did a terrible job keeping that fact secret, particularly Winston who thumped his tail happily against Will’s leg the entire walk across the grounds.
#
After giving them both a chance to shower, and sets of clean clothing that fit Will fairly well but were too tight on Sam, Margot had shown them to a smaller dining room, relatively speaking, with fourteen foot high ceilings and window walls that overlooked the sprawling acres of the Verger estate. The sun had just started to rise, casting a warm pink glow across the fields.
“More tea?” Margot asked, eyeing Will’s empty cup. Sam had barely touched his.
“No, thank you, I’m uh…” Will looked up at her, considered whether she’d maybe called the cops on them after all and dismissed it instantly. She hadn’t. Either because she didn’t fear them or because she didn’t want police attention. Both scenarios carried implications. “This isn’t really a typical response to finding strangers on your property.”
“Well, I’m not typical,” she smiled, hints of dimples showing on her cheeks. “Neither are you two.”
Sam’s expression flickered for an instant, from tired but carefully neutral to suspicious. Will knew him well enough at this point to read those tiny little shifts in his eyes and the curves of his mouth. “Why are you helping us?” Will asked.
“Because Margot’s a good person,” another voice said from just outside the kitchen. Alana’s voice, Will realized, his belly tightening. He hadn’t seen Alana since his trial; old shame ran hot up his cheeks, settling in the tips of his ears. He looked down at his empty teacup, avoiding her eyes.
“Will,” she said, coming closer. She stood next to him silently, waiting for him to look up at her before putting her hand gently on his. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Okay is all relative,” he said.
“True. Who’s your friend?” she asked.
“Sam,” he said, holding out his hand in greeting.
“Alana Bloom.” She shook his hand, and gave him a quick once-over. Her mouth pursed slightly, brow furrowing just for a moment before she chased it away. Will recognized the look. She knew Sam was in pain, but didn’t know why yet. Sooner or later she’d figure it out.
“So, this is the infamous Will Graham,” Margot said, pouring herself a cup. “I heard all about you.”
Will smiled stiffly. “Hopefully there was some good involved.”
“Plenty. And you?” Margot turned her attention to Sam. “What’s your deal?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Aren’t we all?” She raised her chin, nostrils flaring as she scented the air. “You look human, but you smell like something more. When I found you, both of you were covered in blood that wasn't your own."
Sam ground his teeth, but didn’t answer.
“You’re a hunter.” Margot raised one perfect eyebrow. “I know all about hunters and how they think they’re ridding the world of evil.”
“Maybe we should leave,” Will said.
"Don’t worry," Margot continued. "I have no intention of calling the police. I want to help you, but we need to get something out of the way first." She turned her gaze on Will. "You ran to the stables on all fours, while sporting a spectacular pair of antlers. Alana didn’t mention anything like that when she talked about you."
"It’s...a fairly new condition," Will said.
"Security cameras?" Sam asked.
"Of course. But don't worry, nobody else has seen the footage. I took care of that."
"Margot-" Will chewed on his lip. "Alana-thanks for your help, and for not turning us in. But we really don't want to be a burden. We'll just be on our way."
“Don’t be ridiculous. Where else are you going to find people who really understand?” Margot asked, smiling wide, teeth bared, and growing sharper. She held her hand up, like she was checking her nails, and as she did, they lengthened and sharpened, growing darker and thicker until she had five dagger sharp claws. “I mean really understand.”
Shocked, Will looked from Margot to Alana, who seemed completely unfazed. She knew.
Alana chuckled. “Turns out this world is a lot weirder than I ever thought possible.”
Will scoffed. “You’re telling me.”
“What were you running from?” Margot asked, fully human-looking again.
“A...uh. A Horseman of the Apocalypse,” Will said.
“Famine,” Sam added, clasping his hands in front of him on the table. He’d relaxed minutely, but was still guarded.
“Is that Famine’s class ring?” Will asked, nodding at Sam’s fingers.
Sam flexed his knuckles, and a glint of light caught the polished black stone set in metal. He curved his other hand almost protectively around the ring. “Yeah.”
Will cocked an eyebrow. “Did he give it to you?”
Sam shook his head. “No. I uh-killed him, I think. Or stopped him. I don’t think these guys can actually be killed.”
“By yourself?” Will’s brow furrowed. “The last thing I remember before I changed...there were demons. Did you-“
Sam chewed on his lip before answering, “I had to.”
“I see.” Will rubbed his hands over the knees of his pants. “And...how are you holding up?”
“I think the ring is helping, somehow.” Sam looked at Will with guilt and shame banked behind his hazel eyes. “I can keep it at bay.”
“Huh. Shouldn’t it do the opposite?”
“You’d think so.”
“What happens if you take it off?”
Sam’s jaw twitched. “Nothing good.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Will said, and he nearly sounded convincing.
“Clearly you two could use some help,” Margot said.
“No,” Sam said, “Thank you, but what we're fighting-these aren’t just monsters. They can level cities just by walking through them.”
“If you’re about to tell us it’s not safe for us, don’t bother,” Margot said. “If the world’s in danger of ending, I intend to fight for it.” She took Alana’s Hand and squeezed it affectionately.
“Trust me on this, Will,” Alana said. “Whatever it is, no matter how bad-how insurmountable it is. Margot can help.”
“It’s the end of the world,” Sam said.
“Then let’s stop it from ending.” Margot said. “Two shapeshifters and-” she gestured at Sam, “I’m not sure what you can do yet, but apparently you kill demons. We can keep the world from ending.”
“I can’t control what I do,” Will said. “It just happens, like an instinct, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Well, there’s definitely something we can do about that.” Margot winked at him. “Come on, let’s get to know each other better.”
Will was taken aback for a second but then realized she was right. Whoever she was, she could clearly control her own transformations easily. And more importantly, Alana trusted her. He stood, nodding. “Okay.”
“Wait a minute,” Sam said, reaching instinctively for Will’s arm as he passed.
“It’s okay, Sam. Alana is somebody we can trust, and she trusts Margot.” He looked at Sam a moment longer, cupping his shoulder. “Or wait. Will you be okay?”
Sam flinched, almost imperceptibly. “I’ll be fine.” He covered Will’s hand with his own and pulled it off gently, giving it a soft squeeze. “Go.”
Will have him what he hoped was an encouraging smile and trailed after Margot, exiting through the highly arched hallway.
#
They stood there, side by side, listening to the grunting and squealing of the pigs below. Margot had decided a tour of the pens was in order. Will found himself fascinated by their constant movement, the undercurrent of agitation that hung all around them.
Margot slipped off her jacket and hung it on a nearby hook. As she lowered her arm, Will saw a raised pink scar coming down from her shoulder, hidden only partially by her short-sleeved blouse. The scar was wide and jagged, and had the look of torn flesh to it. “Were you attacked?” he asked, before considering how obvious the answer was.
“Yes, but not by a werewolf.” She pulled her sleeve back further showing more of the scar. “My brother was a monster,” Margot said, letting the blouse fall back into place. “Not like us, not a shifter, or a vampire or anything. Just a sadistic piece of human trash.” She nodded down at the pen below them. “He hated the business part of the family business, but he loved the pigs. He loved how they’d turn on each other when pushed, he loved branding them, said their screams sounded like people.” She took a breath and straightened, manicured finger-tips curling over the railing. “Mason used to say that I screamed just like them.”
Will looked at her. She seemed calm and collected, but there was a pain-riddled weight to those words.
“He branded me, he cut me, he-“ she looked away. “He took from me, over and over until I was less than him. Less than a person.”
The herd below them had grown quieter. They were moving towards the back of the pen, snuffling at the air.
“The first time I shifted was after he-” Margot cut herself off, started again. “I was on the floor, where he’d left me, and I couldn’t even get myself to stand up. There was this awful buzzing quiet in my head. Like my eardrums had been blown out. I wasn’t angry anymore or afraid, I couldn’t feel anything. It was like I’d died. And then when I stood up and saw the blood dripping down my legs I felt myself coming back to life.” She held her hand out to Will, and as he watched her fingers lengthened and widened, bones shifting wider apart. Her nails darkened and grew outward, curving into razor-sharp claws. “Reborn.”
Will’s heart sped as he felt his own insides shifting. A bead of sweat formed on his brow, and he wiped at it absently, unable to take his eyes off of Margot’s, which had gone the color of cornflowers.
“I didn’t understand what was happening, but the first time I howled, the first time I ran across my land on all fours, the first time I hunted with my teeth instead of on horseback, it felt right, it was like I’d finally found a missing part of myself.”
“What happened to Mason?” Will asked. “Did you...did you hunt him?”
“Yes.” Margot smiled. “I tore out his heart and ate it, and I fed the rest of him to his pigs.”
The bone-deep satisfaction in her voice was so clear it felt like his own. He imagined doing the same to Hannibal, found that no, if anyone tore him apart it would have to be himself, his own hands and teeth. “Show me,” he said. “I need to learn how to control this.”
Margot nodded. “It’s not that complicated. All you have to accept is that what’s inside you is you. Not an other you, not a mindless beast, just you. With all your needs and hungers and none of your fears or hang-ups.” She smiled at him, over-wide and as Will watched, her teeth sharpened, and her jaw changed, reaching forward, becoming more elongated as her skin began to sprout fur.
Sweating, Will instinctively pushed back the impulse inside of him, realized what he was doing and stopped himself. Pushing it in had done far more harm than good. With a deep, slow exhale he opened his eyes, and let go.
##
Beverly swallowed down the taste of bile at the back of her throat as she opened the next freezer, and the next. Hannibal had three oversized freezers full of meat. Will had been right all along, and the extent of his atrocities was so much greater than they’d thought. If these were only trophies, then the sheer volume of his victims was much, much larger. They’d been wrong, they’d been so wrong.
Only then did Beverly remember to take photos. Evidence, she needed evidence of this horror. Her heart thudded in her chest. If she thought she could get away with it, she’d grab one of the sealed ziploc bags filled with-
“He’s upstairs,” a voice said. A familiar one, but one that felt out of place.
Beverly spun towards the voice, for the moment completely disoriented. It has been jarring enough to discover what Hannibal had done, what he was. What Will had known he was, and the rest of them had been unwilling to see. From the shadows at the other side of the basement, a figure stepped into the light. “Mrs. Crawford?”
“In a few seconds, he’ll open the door. He’ll know someone entered his home and he’ll come down here.”
“Bella?” Beverly repeated, the sense of dread in her gut growing stronger. The woman across from her looked like Bella, but her smile was a stranger’s and her voice had an odd echoing lilt to it, like the distant tolling of bells.
“But don’t be afraid. He will not find you.” Bella’s un-Bella-like smile widened. “You’ll be far away. Delivering a message.”
“A message,” Beverly repeated. “Yes. We have to tell Jack. We have to tell him Will was right, Hannibal is the killer we’ve been looking for. He’s the Ripper.“
“This thing called Hannibal is currently being inhabited by my brother.”
“Your brother?” Beverly’s confusion grew to new heights. Bella didn’t have any siblings, as far as she knew.
“My brother, Lucifer.”
“Lucifer?” That sense of dread in her gut made it impossible to laugh off the declaration, no matter how ludicrous. “As in the devil?”
Bella’s smile vanished. “Your name for him, not ours,” she said, voice ice-cold. “He will return here, and when he finds you, he will erase you from existence. Your brief flicker of life will end.”
Beverly felt rigid with fear. She would’ve been angry about it if she wasn’t so full to the brim with terror. “How do I get out?”
As though she herself had no cause for alarm, Bella continued, smiling beatifically. “Tell Sam Winchester that Michael has found a vessel.” She reached her hand out slowly, and Beverly fought the urge to shrink away. Though she still looked like the lovely woman Beverly had known for years, there was something unmistakably different about Bella; something unearthly and immensely powerful. When her fingers brushed gracefully against Beverly’s forehead, they left trails of storms in their wake-storms of purifying vengeance that siphoned her up like an ant into a hurricane, and carried her away.
##
Sam twisted the ring on his finger, turning it a centimeter counterclockwise and clockwise, back and forth; the skin beneath was turning red from the friction. He could still feel his insides churning and that bone-deep ravenous ache, but it was all muted through multiple layers of sound-proof opaque glass. When he pulled the ring up-just over the edge of his knuckle, no further, the layers thinned, and the pain became clearer, stabbing at his gut, fire in his veins.
“If I’d met you a year ago, this would’ve been a much easier diagnosis,” Alana said, disrupting Sam’s swirling thoughts.
The leather creaked under Sam as he shoved the ring back down and shifted in his seat. “How’s that?” he asked, looking up at the psychologist across from him. His eyes were drawn back to the massive bookshelves behind her, twenty shelves high-polished dark pine, with rolling ladders to reach the highest tiers. He’d spent the first few minutes in this room scanning the shelves, trying not to drool so obviously. Margot had obscure long out-of-print volumes on werewolves he’d only seen referenced in other well-known texts, including four framed hand-inked pages from the 1600s, preserved in a climate-controlled display box.
Alana cleared her throat. “A year ago I would have known, without doubt, that everything you’ve told me so far-about you having demon blood, about Lucifer and the end of days-I would have known that you were experiencing a pronounced religious psychosis.”
Sam smiled ruefully. “I wish that were true.”
Alana raised an eyebrow. “You’d prefer psychosis?”
“Of course. If it was all just in my head, then all the people-all the thousands of people-that Lucifer and the Horsemen have killed would still be alive.”
“What they’ve done is your fault?”
“Lucifer is free because of me. The Apocalypse started because of me.”
Alana nodded thoughtfully. “When I first met Margot, her brother was still alive. Mason was a monster. Not the kind with fangs or fur. He was human. But he was the most inhuman, cruel person I’ve ever met.”
Sam couldn’t help but ask, “You've met Hannibal, right?”
Alana smiled bitterly at him. “Hannibal is a monster, but he’s not cruel for cruelty’s sake. Mason was a sadist. In my book, that makes him worse.” Her smile faded completely. "And his favorite person to torment was Margot.” Alana’s eyes had gone hard as steel. “If she hadn’t killed him, I would have.”
“I’m sorry for what happened to Margot, and what the two of you went through, I really am. But why are you telling me this?”
“Because there’s evil in this world, and often, that evil is adept at manipulation. You were manipulated by someone who many believe is the original manipulator. You did what you thought was right, and inadvertently made things worse. That doesn’t make you evil.”
Sam huffed bitterly. “I’ve had demon blood in me since I was a baby.”
“You going to tell me how that’s your fault, too?”
“No, but it means that I’m…” Sam averted his eyes, looking down at the veins in his hands. “I’m tainted.”
Alana cocked an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a load of crap. Our blood doesn’t dictate our actions. If you claim it does then you’re just looking for an excuse.”
Sam let out a slow breath, clasping his hands together, still compelled to keep arguing. “Because of the blood, I have these...powers. And I convinced myself that I could use them for good.”
“Did you?”
“Convince myself?”
“Use them for good?”
“Yeah.” Sam chewed on his lip. “At first, anyway. I saved people. Exorcised demons, without killing the hosts.”
“And that felt good-doing good, saving them?”
Sam nodded.
“That doesn’t sound even remotely evil to me.”
“I had to drink more blood to do it.”
“Demon blood. From the people you saved?”
“No, from one demon. Her body-the one she possessed, the woman it belonged to had already died...there was no other soul in there, just her.”
Alana’s eyebrows crept up, just a hair.
“The angels told me to stop.”
“There are angels, too?”
Sam nodded.
“You’ve met them?”
“Some. Two of them threatened to kill me.”
Alana shook her head. “I’d say you should write a book, if the world wasn’t crumbling around us.”
Sam’s jaw twitched. “It’s crumbling because of me. I freed Lucifer. I didn’t mean to, but I did.”
“So the angels should’ve killed you?”
Sam scoffed. “They were never going to. They wanted me to-“ he combed his fingers through his hair. “Fulfill my destiny. They wanted this.” He gestured to the windows.
“Wow. The angels sound like dicks.”
“They really are.”
Alana watched him for a beat. “Power in and of itself isn’t evil. It has the ability to corrupt, but if you still see what you did as wrong, if you want to help set things right, then you’re not evil.”
“I want to set things right. I’m just not sure I can trust myself anymore. Every time I think I’m doing the right thing, I make it worse.”
“I’d say you tried to do the right thing despite being manipulated every step of the way. Quite frankly, I’m impressed you didn’t try to kill the angels.”
“Day’s still young.” Sam said with a smirk.
“Let’s talk about how to set things right,” Alana said. And her smile seemed genuine enough.
This stranger barely knew him, but despite knowing about the darkest sides of him, she trusted him enough to be alone in a room with him. Sam’s chest clenched as a wave of gratefulness washed through him, leaving him shaky. He wiped surreptitiously at his tearing eyes, and suppressed a sniffle. “Okay, um...we have to figure out how to get Lucifer back in his cage.”
##
The grass felt soft beneath Will’s hooves as he flew across the acres of land beside Margot. He’d kept pace with her the last few miles, reveling in how easily the speed came to him now. Something about shifting by choice had made the entire experience far less of a struggle-like he’d unlocked a whole different side to what he could do.
Margot pushed ahead, her sleek dark grey form disappearing between the pine trees lining the open fields. He followed her in, slowing just enough to navigate between the trees as the scent of pine and tree flooded his senses. It was thrilling to run without the panicked feel of being pursued and he felt himself picking up speed just because he could.
Ahead of him, Margot let out a sharp warning bark and came skidding to a halt. Will slowed behind her just in time to see the air shimmer, undulating as with intense heat for a moment. When it stilled again, Beverly Katz was standing in front of them. She saw Margot and gasped and then let out a quiet “what the fuck” when Margot shifted back into human form.
“Sorry, about the nudity,” Margot said by way of greeting. She nodded to Will expectantly.
He hesitated for a moment. Beverly was his friend and had been his colleague, but on the other hand, she’d just appeared out of thin air, so maybe nudity wasn’t as big of a deal in the greater scheme of things. He pawed at the earth with his hoof, trying to steady himself enough to shift back. It didn’t come quite as easily, the transformation coming in short bursts-bones shortening, the antlers sticking as they slid back inside of him. He tried to ignore Beverly’s muttered curses, though she now sounded more fascinated than terrified.
Still breathing heavily, Will rolled his shoulders back as the last of his fur and feathers retracted. He forced as much of a smile as he could manage and waved weakly to Beverly. “Hi.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Beverly said.
#
Footsteps sounded down the hall, pulling Sam out of his Apocalypse-101 lesson with Alana. Margot entered the room with Will and a woman.
“All kinds of surprise guests today. This one appeared out of thin air,” Margot said.
“Beverly?” Alana looked nearly as shocked as the newcomer. “What are you--”
“I’m sorry, it’s been a really long day--” Beverly said, holding up her hands, “morning. Whatever.”
“Need a drink?” Margot asked.
“Oh god, yes.”
“Never too early for mimosas,” Margot said walking back out of the room.
#
“Okay, so, let me repeat this back to make sure I heard you all correctly,” Beverly said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You turn into a feathered deer,” she pointed at Will; “you’re a werewolf,” she pointed at Margot, and then to Sam, “and you’ve got demon blood.”
“That’s the short version,” Alana said. “Want to tell us how you learned to teleport?”
“I didn’t,” Beverly downed the rest of her mimosa. “I was at Hannibal’s-“
Will nearly jumped out of his seat. “Hannibal’s-was he there?”
“No. But…” Beverly shook her head. “You were right, Will. He is the Ripper. I found freezers full of-“ she cut herself off and then kept going. “Cuts of his victims. I was going to take pictures, and then Bella Crawford appears out of nowhere.”
“Kind of like you did?” Margot asked.
Beverly nodded absently. “And she says Hannibal’s coming and I need to leave.” She looked up at Sam. “She said to tell you Michael has found his vessel.”
Sam felt the blood drain from his face. “Michael. Did she-did she say who Michael’s vessel was?”
Beverly shook her head. “Sorry. That’s all she said, and then I was out there in the field staring at a wolf and a deer who both turned into people-one of whom is my friend.”
“I’m sorry-I have to make a call,” Sam said, grabbing for his phone.
“What’s wrong?” Will asked, watching him with concern.
Sam swallowed. “Michael’s after Dean for the same reason Lucifer is after me.” Sam shoved aside his last bit of hesitation and made the call. He got Dean’s voicemail, but after the beep, couldn’t find the words. He pressed ‘end call’ instead, pushing the top edge of the phone against his head in frustration.
“I don’t think she meant Dean,” Will said from the door.
Sam turned to him, brow furrowing. “Why not?”
“From what I remember you telling me, angels can teleport other people, right?”
“Yeah…” Sam nodded, as it dawned on him what Will was getting at. “You think Michael possessed Bella Crawford.”
“It fits.”
“Then Bella’s in danger. She won’t be able to hold Michael for long.”
“So we have to get things moving.” Will glanced down at Sam’s hand. “You have Famine’s ring, we still need the other three.”
“Dean has War’s,” Sam said, “And Bobby said he had a lead on Pestilence, so--”
“We need Death’s.” Will let out an exasperated huff. “Easy, right?”
“Want to fill the rest of us in?” Margot said, entering the library.
#
“Angels can just possess people?” Beverly asked.
Sam nodded. “The only difference between angelic possession and demonic possession is that angels ask first.” He took a bite of his salad. “That and, angels are more likely to cause the vessel-the person they’re possessing-to explode.”
“Good to know.” Alana frowned. “We have to help Bella.”
“Why would she have agreed in the first place?” Margot asked.
“Bella’s got stage four lung cancer,” Beverly said. “Maybe Michael offered to heal her.”
“Very likely,” Sam said. “But she has to survive first if he’s going to heal her.”
“We need a plan,” Will said, nodding to himself. “Any chance we can come up with one that Lucifer won’t see coming?”
“Maybe, but only until he gets close to us,” Sam said. “Angels can read minds.”
“Well, then we’ve gotta think of something and forget about it,” Beverly said. “I know some drugs that could help with that.”
Sam stared at her, eyebrow cocked.
“I work in a crime lab. We know all kinds of things,” Beverly said, and gave him a wink.
#
“That’s not gonna work either,” Will said, finishing the last of the beer Margot had given him.
“I don’t think we have any other ideas.” Sam sighed, scratching absently behind Winston’s ears. Winston had taken a liking to him, resting his head on Sam’s thigh. Three other dogs were curled up around Will, and the warmth of all of them was calming Sam a lot. Which was good, because he had every reason to feel distinctly uncalm, right about now.
"I'm telling you," Beverly said, setting her empty bottle on the step by her feet. "We need to come up with a plan, but make it so nobody knows all the pieces, otherwise these guys'll be able to read our minds and stop us before we execute it, right?"
Sam looked out at the field, and the sky behind it, the last rays of the setting sun turning the sky burnt orange. It looked a little too much like fire for his liking. "It's a good idea, but we already know too much. We know about the rings, and if we can get all four of them together then that'll be on our minds, regardless of how we split up the tasks."
"Is there a way to keep them out of our heads?"
"Angels?" Sam sighed. "It's not easy. I have something to keep Lucifer from finding me, but if we're going to take him down, then nothing'll stop him from getting in my head."
"Let's sleep on it," Alana said, nudging Margot's shoulder. "World'll still be ending in the morning, right?"
Will laughed dryly. "That's the spirit." But he stood up and stretched, and held his hand down to Sam. "Shall we?"
Sam smiled at him and pushed himself to his feet, grabbing Will's hand as he stood. "Good night," he said, giving a wave to the women. He paused for a moment, considering the three of them. Alana and Beverly knew Will, but none of the three had known Sam prior to today. They knew what he was capable of, at least some of it, and they knew what Will could do. But they'd still agreed to help-even to help stop the apocalypse. Sam felt a pulse of gratitude at their generosity and bravery. "Thank you, for everything," he said, nodding to all of them, ending with Margot.
Margot held up her wine glass in a toast. "Here's to another weird day, tomorrow."
##
on to chapter 3