Still, 3/?
Title: Still, 3/?
Verse: The Libation Bearers
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: reading_is_in
Characters: Ben/Adam, Bobby.
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All recognized characters from ‘Supernatural’ are property of Eric Kripke/CW. This fan fiction is not for profit.
Summary: Follows Orders of an Elder Time. The year is 2019. Ben is not the only one to know loss and irresolution. A series of strange killings in Colorado will come haunt Adam in unpredictable ways.
Warnings: Major characters...are dead, violence, more angst than you can shake a very angsty stick at.
The Wyoming/Colorado border wasn’t much to see coming south - a sign at the side of the I25 welcomed them to ‘colorful Colorado’, and the tree-bordered scrublands marched on as before. The ground was dry with the unseasonable heat, and some of the touristy small towns they passed through had cacti planted outside the storefronts and signs proclaiming ‘Where the West lives’. Ben felt vaguely out of place, conspicuously urban - perhaps Adam with his alligator sunglasses had had the right idea after all.
Elbert, Elbert County was as small and agricultural a town as Ben had ever visited. Two churches, several shops and some houses covered what wasn’t ranch and farmland. It was only ten in the morning, so they headed straight for the ranch of the latest victim’s family:
“We already spoke to the other officer,” said the bewildered woman at the door. She was middle-aged, red-eyed with crying, dressed in faded jeans and a flowered shirt.
“We know ma’am,” Adam’s tone was gentle, his eyes sympathetic. Even Ben didn’t know how much was an act, and how much real remaining sadness for the shit hunters saw and heard all their lives. “But we’re not Elbert police.” He showed her the forensic detective IDs Bobby had had forged for them. “The department called us in from out of state due to the - particular nature - of the killings.”
“Oh,” said the woman: “Well, I suppose you’d better come in then. Jack? Jack! There are more detectives to see us.”
The usual questions turned up little that hadn’t been in the papers. Simon Walder, aged 16, disappeared on his way back from a friend’s house last Tuesday night, which just happened to have been the full moon. His body turned up in a basement two days later, sans one very vital organ. This was the second crime of its kind in Elbert in two months - the last having been at the last full moon.
“What was Simon like, as a person?” Adam asked.
“What?” asked the mother.
“Well, was he a happy kid? Well adjusted? Lots of friends...any enemies?”
“What do you think you’re implying, son?” the husband glared at Adam. “Simon was a good boy. An A student. He wouldn’t have gotten involved in any-”
“Of course sir,” Ben said, as Adam pretended to write in his notepad. “We just have to cover every possibility. “So there was no-one who might have wanted to, say, extract revenge on your family?” Yeah. He probably could have phrased that more delicately.
“Just what kind of detectives are you?” The woman narrowed her eyes.
“I think it’s time you left,” the man stood up. “We already told the other cop everything we know.”
“One more thing,” Adam raised a hand. “Please, remember we’re only here to help. Did you ever hear of a family known as the Tracers, who used to live here?”
“Rachel Tracer?” the woman’s eyes widened. “My God, I knew it!”
“Knew what?” Ben asked, as the man spoke over him:
“You found her? Is she a suspect? I always said that woman was crazy. Ought to have been locked away before it came to something like this.”
“We’re looking for her,” Adam said. “We’d just like to ask her a few questions.”
“She vanished months ago. Left no sign. But if anybody in Elbert was a Satanist...” the man shook his head. “You find her. You bring her to justice, you hear me?” And grabbed Ben’s arm.
“We’ll do everything we can to bring your son’s killer to justice sir,” Ben said carefully.
They got out of the house.
“Damn,” Ben made a face when they were back on the street. “Thankless job or what.”
“It’s sad,” Adam shrugged. “But you know...it’s the choice you make when you become a hunter. Maybe she had to leave because the townsfolk were getting ready to pitchfork her.”
“So....you want to check out the crime scene? Or the old Tracer place?”
“We could split up,” Adam suggested.
A vague warning hummed in the back of Ben’s mind. Would it be best if he kept tabs on what
happened to Adam here? But apparently he’d already hesitated too long:
“You can take the crime scene,” Adam told him: “I’m not trying to keep you away from the action or anything.”
And if he argued with that, it would be totally out of character, and Adam would guess right away that something was up with him.
“Okay, sure,” Ben said. “Meet you back at the inn afterwards.”
“Got your cell phone?”
“Naturally.”
“See you later.”
Adam glanced around them quickly, making sure no-one was watching. It was heating up towards midday, and the sleepy street was deserted. He leaned in and gave Ben a quick kiss on the mouth, fingers brushing the back of neck and along his jaw lightly.
“We...probably want to keep that on the down low around here,” Ben felt himself grinning.
“Shouldn’t be so sexy then, should you?” Adam teased him.
“I can’t help it, it’s natural.”
When they split up, Ben was smiling.
* * *
The abandoned 6 Grosvenor Place was taped off, with the usual ‘crime scene, do not cross’, et cetera, and a couple of cops were still hanging around the front door, looking hot and uncomfortable. Also nervous: Ben guessed crimes of this calibre weren’t your everyday occurrence in sleepy little Elbert.
“Restricted access,” said the heftier of the two cops to Ben, moving to bar his entrance. Ben produced the ID. The local cop looked impressed for a second, then narrowed his eyes.
“You look awful young for forensics.”
“Thank you,” Ben said politely, a trick he'd learned from Adam: “I do my best. So important to keep fit in this line of work, isn’t it?” He glanced very very quickly down at the cop’s protruding beer belly.
“Who’s your supervisor?” The cop asked, and Ben gave him the number for one of Bobby’s phones. After the requisite call, and Ben gathered, a thorough chewing out by his ‘head of department’, the cop rather sulkily granted Ben access. The basement was likewise cordoned: Ben ducked under the tape, and took in the bloodstained flagstones which had recently held the final remains of one Simon Walder. He scanned briefly for EMF, but the detector sputtered uncomprehendingly, apparently not liking being underground. He approached the chalk outline carefully, taking out a pocket torch and scanning the stones all around for traces of hair, skin, or other remains of either victim of killer -
-“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” said a human voice from behind him, and Ben froze at the unmistakeable sound of a revolver cocking.
Part Four.
Verse: The Libation Bearers
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: reading_is_in
Characters: Ben/Adam, Bobby.
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All recognized characters from ‘Supernatural’ are property of Eric Kripke/CW. This fan fiction is not for profit.
Summary: Follows Orders of an Elder Time. The year is 2019. Ben is not the only one to know loss and irresolution. A series of strange killings in Colorado will come haunt Adam in unpredictable ways.
Warnings: Major characters...are dead, violence, more angst than you can shake a very angsty stick at.
The Wyoming/Colorado border wasn’t much to see coming south - a sign at the side of the I25 welcomed them to ‘colorful Colorado’, and the tree-bordered scrublands marched on as before. The ground was dry with the unseasonable heat, and some of the touristy small towns they passed through had cacti planted outside the storefronts and signs proclaiming ‘Where the West lives’. Ben felt vaguely out of place, conspicuously urban - perhaps Adam with his alligator sunglasses had had the right idea after all.
Elbert, Elbert County was as small and agricultural a town as Ben had ever visited. Two churches, several shops and some houses covered what wasn’t ranch and farmland. It was only ten in the morning, so they headed straight for the ranch of the latest victim’s family:
“We already spoke to the other officer,” said the bewildered woman at the door. She was middle-aged, red-eyed with crying, dressed in faded jeans and a flowered shirt.
“We know ma’am,” Adam’s tone was gentle, his eyes sympathetic. Even Ben didn’t know how much was an act, and how much real remaining sadness for the shit hunters saw and heard all their lives. “But we’re not Elbert police.” He showed her the forensic detective IDs Bobby had had forged for them. “The department called us in from out of state due to the - particular nature - of the killings.”
“Oh,” said the woman: “Well, I suppose you’d better come in then. Jack? Jack! There are more detectives to see us.”
The usual questions turned up little that hadn’t been in the papers. Simon Walder, aged 16, disappeared on his way back from a friend’s house last Tuesday night, which just happened to have been the full moon. His body turned up in a basement two days later, sans one very vital organ. This was the second crime of its kind in Elbert in two months - the last having been at the last full moon.
“What was Simon like, as a person?” Adam asked.
“What?” asked the mother.
“Well, was he a happy kid? Well adjusted? Lots of friends...any enemies?”
“What do you think you’re implying, son?” the husband glared at Adam. “Simon was a good boy. An A student. He wouldn’t have gotten involved in any-”
“Of course sir,” Ben said, as Adam pretended to write in his notepad. “We just have to cover every possibility. “So there was no-one who might have wanted to, say, extract revenge on your family?” Yeah. He probably could have phrased that more delicately.
“Just what kind of detectives are you?” The woman narrowed her eyes.
“I think it’s time you left,” the man stood up. “We already told the other cop everything we know.”
“One more thing,” Adam raised a hand. “Please, remember we’re only here to help. Did you ever hear of a family known as the Tracers, who used to live here?”
“Rachel Tracer?” the woman’s eyes widened. “My God, I knew it!”
“Knew what?” Ben asked, as the man spoke over him:
“You found her? Is she a suspect? I always said that woman was crazy. Ought to have been locked away before it came to something like this.”
“We’re looking for her,” Adam said. “We’d just like to ask her a few questions.”
“She vanished months ago. Left no sign. But if anybody in Elbert was a Satanist...” the man shook his head. “You find her. You bring her to justice, you hear me?” And grabbed Ben’s arm.
“We’ll do everything we can to bring your son’s killer to justice sir,” Ben said carefully.
They got out of the house.
“Damn,” Ben made a face when they were back on the street. “Thankless job or what.”
“It’s sad,” Adam shrugged. “But you know...it’s the choice you make when you become a hunter. Maybe she had to leave because the townsfolk were getting ready to pitchfork her.”
“So....you want to check out the crime scene? Or the old Tracer place?”
“We could split up,” Adam suggested.
A vague warning hummed in the back of Ben’s mind. Would it be best if he kept tabs on what
happened to Adam here? But apparently he’d already hesitated too long:
“You can take the crime scene,” Adam told him: “I’m not trying to keep you away from the action or anything.”
And if he argued with that, it would be totally out of character, and Adam would guess right away that something was up with him.
“Okay, sure,” Ben said. “Meet you back at the inn afterwards.”
“Got your cell phone?”
“Naturally.”
“See you later.”
Adam glanced around them quickly, making sure no-one was watching. It was heating up towards midday, and the sleepy street was deserted. He leaned in and gave Ben a quick kiss on the mouth, fingers brushing the back of neck and along his jaw lightly.
“We...probably want to keep that on the down low around here,” Ben felt himself grinning.
“Shouldn’t be so sexy then, should you?” Adam teased him.
“I can’t help it, it’s natural.”
When they split up, Ben was smiling.
* * *
The abandoned 6 Grosvenor Place was taped off, with the usual ‘crime scene, do not cross’, et cetera, and a couple of cops were still hanging around the front door, looking hot and uncomfortable. Also nervous: Ben guessed crimes of this calibre weren’t your everyday occurrence in sleepy little Elbert.
“Restricted access,” said the heftier of the two cops to Ben, moving to bar his entrance. Ben produced the ID. The local cop looked impressed for a second, then narrowed his eyes.
“You look awful young for forensics.”
“Thank you,” Ben said politely, a trick he'd learned from Adam: “I do my best. So important to keep fit in this line of work, isn’t it?” He glanced very very quickly down at the cop’s protruding beer belly.
“Who’s your supervisor?” The cop asked, and Ben gave him the number for one of Bobby’s phones. After the requisite call, and Ben gathered, a thorough chewing out by his ‘head of department’, the cop rather sulkily granted Ben access. The basement was likewise cordoned: Ben ducked under the tape, and took in the bloodstained flagstones which had recently held the final remains of one Simon Walder. He scanned briefly for EMF, but the detector sputtered uncomprehendingly, apparently not liking being underground. He approached the chalk outline carefully, taking out a pocket torch and scanning the stones all around for traces of hair, skin, or other remains of either victim of killer -
-“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” said a human voice from behind him, and Ben froze at the unmistakeable sound of a revolver cocking.
Part Four.