Of Hunters and Agents (Spn/NCIS) part 6
Title: Of Hunters and Agents
Author: Rosedraquia
Crossover: Supernatural/NCIS
An: I'm so sorry this took so long. I have been on holiday in Egypt and then had three assignments due for University within a month. It was immense and stressful and I'm surprised I still have hair. This chapter had actually already been written, but when I came back to it I read it through and wondered if I wrote this whilst drunk. It wasn't so much that it was crap, but more that it could be so much better. So I essentially rewrote it, and this is the result. I also made it 2,000 words longer, for leaving you guys to wait so long.
The next one should be up in a week.
Summary: When Tony, Gibbs and Dean are trapped in an underground survival course by a serial killer, what will they do? Are the Agents willing to work with a known murderer in order to survive? And is everything truly as it seems?
Disclaimer: I own nothing but this plot.
xXx
Tony could see that Dean was really starting to get anxious, and to be honest, he wasn't the only one; judging by Gibbs' now-permanent frown and Sams paranoid glances. They could all feel everything coming to a head and it was putting everyone more on edge then before. Tony could feel his own muscles tightening up, preparing for that natural fight-or-flight response as the tension built inexorably with the time passing.
There was a sharp curse and Tony's gaze cut to Dean when the other angrily thrust his fist into a wall, visibly wincing at the action.
"God damnit Sammy! We only have 45 minutes left! 45 minutes! We should have been outta here hours ago!"
Sam looked just as aggravated as his brother, even as Tony watched the much taller Winchester ran a hand through his shaggy hair, looking like he would much rather be wrenching it with frustration.
"I know Dean."
"I mean, not to be arrogant or anything, but with our training we would have made much better time than any other civilian!"
"I know Dean."
"It doesn't make sense, damnit!"
"I know Dean!"
At that Dean seemed to snap out of his diatribe and shot an apologetic look at his younger brother. Though, honestly, Tony completely agreed. He didn't much like lauding the talents of killers, but the Winchester brothers had been leading them through this course like a breeze. Just as swift and almost unstoppable.
Considering this course had been set up to challenge people with, at best, half their skill; it was a bit dubious that even now they were all still trapped. Also, the size of this place. If Tony hadn't walked it himself, he would never have believed that one killer could have had the time, money and resources to build it himself within his own lifetime. It just didn't seem possible.
And yet here it was, and here he was. So clearly Tony had underestimated the abilities of a human when they put their whole being towards a goal. As horrific as this one was.
Tony made a sound of frustration as they all rounded yet another corner, but whilst the hallway continued straight on, as always, this time there was a doorway halfway down. Blinking at the sight, Tony stepped up the pace, moving right behind the brothers who were also moving noticeably faster. As they all came to the door, Dean paused a moment, listening for movement beyond the opening before stepping inside.
Waiting a few seconds for something to happen, when nothing did; Sam, Gibbs and Tony all moved in just as cautiously, wondering if they were about to be hit by another trap or whether they had finally found the way outside.
Clearly though, they worried for nothing, because the room was completely empty save for one metal ring in the far wall. About to start unleashing a diatribe of his own, Tony paused as he saw Sams' eyes widen then narrow; locked on the ring in the wall. Dean must've noticed too, because suddenly he was beside his brother, looking ready to stab the first thing that moved in an even vaguely threatening manner.
"Sammy? What's up?"
Sam blinked before focussing on his brother whilst Tony and Gibbs looked on.
"Dean, we've been walking in circles."
Tony felt his eyes widen, mildly gratified that Dean did the same before his face twisted into a scowl, though Gibbs almost looked like he had been expecting the news.
"What?"
"We've been walking in circles! I don't know how, but this is the room I woke up in. Look! Over there are my cuffs."
Looking where he was pointing, Tony only now noticed the dull sheen of the handcuffs lying in a corner, almost hidden by shadow.
"God damnit! Why didn't we see this coming!"
Dean spun around, regarding his surroundings and clearly contemplating kicking a wall. This was prevented as Sam stepped foward, his brow furrowed as he regarded the room once more.
"Dean. We can't afford to keep walking. We only have 40 minutes left."
Said Winchester sighed, raking a hand through his hair and just looking generally put out with the situation. He shared a look with his younger brother, a silent conversation clearly taking place before finally Dean conceded with a nod and scanning the room, he walked to one of the walls and began knocking on it.
Feeling vaguely put out at not knowing what the hell the two were doing, Tony glanced at Gibbs before making his thoughts known.
"What are you guys doing?"
Dean barely spared him a glance, continuing his circuit of the rooms' walls whilst he answered.
"We're setting up shop. There's no way we can get outta here in time if we're being led round in circles. This room and the one we started in are the best for a stand-off, as there's no way he can sneak up on us in here." At that Dean finished tapping the walls and, clearly satisfied, started pulling knives out of the fricken air. Seriously, the guy had like 4 knives on him, two of which he gave to Tony.
Glancing at Gibbs, he saw as his boss received two fairly similar knives from Sam. Gibbs glanced over the blades before giving a short nod to Sam and then addressing both Winchesters.
"Good plan. Is he working alone?"
Sam, who for some reason was standing just before the open door and regarding the ceiling, answered this one. "Yeah, he is. But we shouldn't underestimate him. He may be alone, but he's a demon so four guys on one wouldn't normally be that big a problem for him." Not seeing their looks, Sam continued, his voice getting a bit more subdued as he contemplated something. "Though you have us, so we can probably come up..with...a...plan. Dean."
About to make say something about there being a better time for delusions later, Tony was distracted when Dean snapped around to look at his brother, something in the others tone clearly cluing him into the fact that Sam was contemplating something stupid. Tony couldn't see it, but Dean took one look at his brother, glanced at the ceiling, and shook his head sharply.
"No, Sam."
Sam grimaced and spread his arms, clearly asking for another option, not that Tony got what the first option actually was.
"C'mon Dean. I know it's not the best option, but we have to do something, and we don't have any other materials to do it with."
At that Dean took a step forward, slashing his arm to the side, his expression stormy.
"No Sammy. If we have to, I'll do it. I've already been shot anyway."
At that, Tony had to cut in, both him and Gibbs clearly wondering what the hell the two were talking about. It's like they were listening in on half a conversation and only getting enough bits to seriously alarm them.
"Um, have to do what? What're you two talking about?"
He was promptly ignored as Sam took a step towards his brother, his expression shifting to one so pleading that Tony felt his heart twinge, the automatic urge to help rising up immediately. It was actually pretty terrifying.
"That's exactly why you can't Dean. You're already hurt; you can't afford this as well! Also, I'm larger, I won't be as affected."
Dean froze for a second, his expression becoming conflicted until Sam took another step towards him and shrugged half-heartedly, as if to say there really was no other choice. Staring for a few long seconds Dean finally sighed, dragging a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping.
"Damnit Sammy. You're killing me here."
"Sorry Dean. It's the best option."
At that Sam finally stepped back from his brother before turning and walking to the doorway, they all watched as he reached up, his fingers just able to drag along the ceiling.
"What the hell are you two going on about?"
Gibbs' voice was sharp, cracking like a whip in that distinct way of his. It said something about their lives that both Winchesters snapped to attention automatically before seemingly remembering themselves. Sam went back to what he was doing whilst Dean seemed to be contemplating how to answer, his posture slightly more stiff than before.
"The best way to stop a demon is to catch it. You can only do that with a devils trap. Normally we'd use paint, or if seriously out of options, chalk. But we don't normally carry that stuff on us, so Sammy's going for the very last option. One we haven't actually done before."
At that Dean seemed to hesitate but at Gibbs look he continued, apparently worried what they would think about this next piece of insanity. Go figure.
"He's going to use blood."
"What!"
Tony couldn't help himself. It was an automatic reaction, especially when he looked over at Sam just in time to see the other slice a knife across his left hand before cupping it, letting blood pool in the curve.
"This is insane! We're just about to tangle with our guy and you go and purposefully injure yourself beforehand? All to draw some stupid picture on the roof, in your own blood? As if we aren't handicapped enough already!"
At that Dean took a step forward, his expression hardening as Sam started using his free hand to begin drawing what looked to be a fairly large circle.
"Look, I get that you think we're insane. But you know what they say, if you don't cater to the crazy peoples delusions, things could get violent." Dean's eyes flashed and Tony felt himself take an automatic step backward, falling into a defensive stance. "In more ways than one." This last was said softly, and Tony stared at the other until Gibbs waved a hand between them.
"Woah. Cool down. It's a bit late to be arguing about this, considering it's already happening. We need a plan, not in-fighting." This was stated dryly, and Tony automatically felt a sheepish expression cross his face, remarkably similar to the one Dean was wearing; though both vanished pretty quickly.
Over the next 15 minutes they outlined a plan, although there was some argument from Dean at one point, they all eventually agreed on what was going to be done. It's not like they had many options by that point, considering their situation there was very little they could actually do. The biggest sticking point was what Sam and Dean wanted to do, as both believed they were fighting a 'demon' and as such wanted to plan around their opponent being one. Eventually they all agreed on a strategy that would be effective either way.
xXx
Tony couldn't be sure how long they waited. He knew, intellectually, that it was at least 15 minutes, but the seconds seemed to tick by at a snails pace. Consequently all of their nerves were on edge. Tony focussed on the doorway, his anxiety rising as across from him Dean started sharpening one knife with another. Gibbs, on the other hand, was simply watching everything with narrowed eyes. He was directly opposite the door, leaning against the wall and from what Tony could see, his bosses eyes were looking intently at the bloody 'devils trap' drawn on the ceiling. Tony could see that Gibbs was just as disturbed by it as he was, even if his boss was covering it better. What kind of nut-jobs were these two that they were willing to cut themselves up and submit to blood loss, simply to draw pretty patterns on the roof? Surely they didn't honestly believe that doodles drawn in blood would do anything but weaken them in the upcoming fight?
This line of thought was cut short as the vague sound of footsteps came from beyond the open doorway. Stiffening at the sound, Tony got into a defensive position as Dean and Gibbs did the same. Hopefully Sam would be able to get a drop on the perp, though honestly, having four highly trained men against one guy seemed a bit like overkill.
They all waited as the sounds got closer, Tony's muscles drawn so tight that he would have snapped had a pin dropped in the silence. Thankfully there were no sudden sounds, just the increasingly nearing ones from outside. He knew that logically, he shouldn't have much to fear considering it was 4 against one, but still. This guy had to be pretty damn good to do this continuously and still somehow come out on top.
When the person finally stepped into sight, Tony could honestly say it wasn't who he was expecting. Donald Rugen; he had been eliminated off the suspect list from pretty much the beginning, simply because he didn't fit the physical requirements that such a killer would need. It was well known that in both the original and copycat killings, the murderer subdued his victims and strangled them to death. Considering the victims were picked for their physical fitness and defensive abilities, there was just no way that short and chubby Donald Rugen could be the killer; never mind that he was the 50 year old son of the original killer Steven Rugen, who had died 10 or so years ago.
Tony was still staring in vague shock when Donald's eyes flicked up towards the ceiling and he let out a low chuckle, his lips twisting into a smirk that looked out of place on his face.
"Devil's trap boys? Cute. Reeaal cute. But you know what they say, fool me once..."
Tony had no idea what Donald was going on about, or why he even recognised the bloody drawings in the first place, but he could see as across from him Deans' eyes widened before narrowing in what could only be recognition.
"Meg."
The name was spat out, as if the act of speaking it had left a foul taste in Dean's mouth. Tony honestly didn't know what to say, because that was undeniably a girls name and Donald Rugen was most definitely not a girl. And yet, there was no reaction from Donald, just another twisted chuckle, as if everything about this situation was an amusing game of cat and mouse, something to be dragged out and enjoyed.
"You always were a quick one Deany-boy."
Donald's eyes scanned across the room, the guy still making no attempt to enter, something Tony found a bit curious; though maybe the sicko was enjoying this too much and wanted to drag it out some more.
"Though where's Sammy, Dean? You two are never far from each other."
Tony only had a second to wonder how this guy apparently knew so much about the Winchesters, before Sam literally ninja'd behind Donald, having hidden further down the corridor. There was no warning as Sam appeared and launched a brutal kick square in the middle of Donald's back, something that should have sent him sprawling across the room but instead only made him stumble a few steps forward. Tony almost attacked as well, expecting that to be the start of the fight, but instead he was brought up short by Dean's laughter.
"Shame on you, wasn't it Meg?"
Through the doorway they could see Sams' eyes widen as his eyes focussed on the guy he'd attacked, though he made no move to follow through on his brief upper hand.
In Donald's case, all he did was stand up before snarling at Sam and Dean, glaring futilely at the marks on the ceiling. To be honest, Tony was just wondering what the hell was going on. This wasn't anything like he expected this showdown to go. In fact, he got the distinct feeling he was missing something. Glancing at his boss, Gibbs caught his eye and gave a slight shake of his head, indicating that they simply watch for the moment. Clearly there was something going on here, and maybe by watching and staying out of it (for now), they could figure out what.
It only took a few seconds for Donald's expression to smooth over, his body straightening as he regarded those in the room. Behind him Sams expression had hardened, becoming something that was actually scarier than the serial killer who had trapped them in the maze in the first place.
"Well. What now Deano? You gonna excorcise me? Because I've got a little something to stop that happening."
Tony's mind blanked for a second as Donald pulled back a sleeve, showing a mark that looked like it had been branded into his arm. What the hell was going on? Was this guy suffering the same delusions as the Winchesters? What were the chances of that?
"In fact, I can still do this-"
They watched as Donald raised an arm, Tony not being the only person to automatically tense, but there was nothing in his hand and even as they watched all he did was snap his fingers. For a second nothing happened, then there was an ominous rumbling and Tony watched incredulously as a crack formed in the ceiling, moving directly for the bloodied marks above Donald's head.
It barely took a second for the crack to reach the outermost circle and Tony could only watch along with everyone else as there was a sound like metal striking metal and the crack suddenly stopped, despite the rumbling still shaking the room. Eventually the noise ceased and Tony turned wide eyes on Donald, absently wondering if he had a sound activated weapon of some kind built into the walls, which was a bit worrying as who knew if it would bring the place down on their heads.
Donald himself didn't look too pleased with this turn of events, turning accusing eyes on Dean who simply smirked and shrugged, looking inordinately amused with this turn of events.
"Didn't you know Meg? Devils Traps are actually supposed to be drawn in blood, it makes them pretty much unbreakable. Of course hunters just don't have a lot of fresh blood to spare, so we normally go the easy way. This time though, well, you didn't leave us with many options. Lucky for us, huh?"
Donald simply sneered at Dean before placing his hands on his hips and flicking his head in a way that was decidedly feminine. Tony could only blink, feeling bizarrely thrown at the very feminine pose the serial killer was striking. He had no idea what was going on, in fact it felt a bit like a rug had been pulled unexpectedly from under Tony's feet. He didn't like this feeling at all. Looking across at Gibbs Tony was a bit surprised to see his boss leaning casually against the wall behind him, watching everything that was occurring with narrowed eyes. He had the look he usually got when pieces of a puzzle were slowly falling together, when his mind and his gut were now reaching the same conclusions and he didn't like what those answers were.
Tony just wished he'd fill him in.
"So what now? We're at a bit of stalemate, eh Deany-boy. You can't exorcise me and I can't rend you piece from piece."
Donald's voice was surprisingly light considering the threat. Dean didn't so much as twitch, his smirk merely growing, something that clearly put Donald on edge.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm quite fond of the idea of killing you, Meg. What about you Sammy? That sound like an option?"
Tony started, only just seeing Gibbs straighten out of the corner of his eye as he stared at Dean, surprised by the bloodthirsty smile on his face. He had obviously spent far too much time with the Winchesters considering he was surprised by this turn of events.
"Oh yeah. That sounds just perfect, Dean."
Despite their words, they made no move to attack Donald, and whilst this vaguely reassured the two NCIS agents, it didn't seem to have nearly the same calming effect on Donald.
"How are you planning on doing that? You don't have the Colt and I have the Knife."
At this Donald pulled out a dagger, Tony could just make out engravings edged into the blade even as he returned to the defensive stance he had before and took another step backwards, putting his back to the wall. Dean seemed mildly surprised by the introduction of the knife, as if he hadn't expected Donald to bring any weapons; which actually surprised Tony as he knew the Winchesters were aware that some of the victims were killed by stabbing rather than strangulation. Yet Deans surprise didn't last long before he was shrugging and looking vaguely bored, a feat Tony was slightly jealous of.
"Nah Meg. The knifes old school. No, I think Sammy's way is a lot more effective. Why don't you give her a demonstration Sammy."
Tony automatically took a step forward when the younger Winchester raised a hand, before remembering that there was a serial killer between him and Sam, who was in the hall way. It didn't seem to matter in any case, as Sam didn't have a weapon in his hand. Instead he held an open palm out towards Donald, before slowly clenching his hand.
That was when the truly weird shit began to happen.
Tony reared back as suddenly Donald's eyes flashed pure black and he arched backwards, letting out a scream that almost seemed to have an echo, a light starting to flash inside his body like there was lightning inside him.
"Holy shit."
It was literally all he could manage, and when Tony's eyes snapped to Gibbs he could see the other was just as surprised by this as he was. There was literally no explanation for this. He couldn't see what had caused this, though it was obvious that it was in conjuction with Sam clenching his hand, there should be no reason that something was happening to Donald. Even as he watched the lighting started to move faster, Donald looking like he'd snap he was arched so far back, the scream increasing as something (smoke?) started to leak out of his mouth.
It was obvious that whatever this was, was going to be over soon; when the scream suddenly cut off and Donald's head snapped forward, his eyes glaring into Sams as he obviously used one last effort to speak.
"He'll die!"
Surprisingly that actually worked as Sam stopped clenching his hand, even releasing...whatever he was doing. It was enough for Donald to fall to his knees, panting, with the occasional fading flicker of light inside him.
"What?"
Sam's voice was harsh, his hand still extended though shaking from effort. Donald raised his head to stare at Sam, a gruesome smile on his face as blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.
"He'll die, Sammy-boy. I've been riding this guy for months now, if you kill me his body will collapse without immediate help. And you still don't know your way out of here. Can you boys suffer another death on your poor, abused little consciences?"
Donald stood, his shaking slowly easing as he looked at both the Winchesters, his eyes alight with something like malicious amusement as he looked at their conflicted faces. It was now blatantly obvious to Tony that there were things going on here that he couldn't even hope to comprehend. Clearly the Winchesters were much more aware of what was happening then he was. Until he found out that that light show had been an elaborate hoax between serial killers, he wasn't going to make any moves that could potentially worsen the situation. Even as he watched, Donald's gaze stopped on Dean, all three having long forgotten that there were others in the room with them.
"He's in here you know. Watching what's happening. Begging for help, screaming for you to save him. I'm sure you know how it is Dean." Here Donald's eyes flashed, his smile becoming something so sadistic that Tony hadn't even known it was possible for a human face to convey it. "After all, I heard you broke so prettily in hell."
Tony's thoughts skittered to a halt even as he watched Dean's expression twist, the older Winchester taking an angry step forward before his expression abruptly closed off, becoming something hard and unforgiving.
"You know, Meg. You should be begging us to kill you, not coming up with reasons for us to keep you alive."
Dean's voice was as cold as his face, his tone flat and terrifying. Donald didn't seem affected, merely cocking an eyebrow and putting a hand on his hip.
"Oh?"
Dean nodded, starting to casually pace around the parts of the circle he could reach, his eyes never leaving Donald's.
"Oh yeah. You see, like you said I spent some time in hell. Forty years, as I'm sure you know. Thirty of them I was tortured by Alistair himself." Here Dean stopped in front of Donald, Tony watching everything, his face pale. If this was actually possible, if he actually believed what Dean was saying...
"And I did break, though admittedly after having 'Picasso-with-a-knife' doing everything within his demonic power to break me, it's a bit understandable. But after being carved up for thirty years and then spending ten years doing the carving. Well, you tend to pick up a few things."
Dean was staring Donald in the eyes, eyes which Tony could see were once again completely black, as if there was nothing there at all.
"You know, I heard you spent some time being taught by Alistair, but you know what? No matter how long he taught you, it's not you that the others remember. It's not you whose name some demons still fear, it's not you who the demons still call 'Alistair's Apprentice'. And you know what Meg? I'm not too happy with you. You shouldn't be telling us to let you live, you should be begging us to let you die."
At that Dean took a step back, his eyes like chips of green glass. For the first time since Tony truly began this whole shitty adventure, he was honest-to-God scared of Dean Winchester, in a way that Tony hadn't really feared anyone before.
But it wasn't over, even as he watched, his mouth completely dry and his hair standing on end; Tony could see Sam stepping forward, his eyes just as blankly terrifying as his brothers.
"That's not even starting on me Meg. You know, there are different levels in hell? The deeper you are, the bigger the time difference. The Cage is the deepest you can go, and I threw myself in there with two Archangels who weren't very happy with me for helping to stop their little Apocalypse. That deep in the Pit, a day up here is a hundred years down there. So while top side I was only gone for three quarters of a day, down below I was stuck with Michael and Lucifer for seventy years. And you know, the last time me and you met, you had two of our best friends brutally killed. So you see, me and Dean, there's nothing more we would like than to torture you. To break you down until you forget there's even a world that exists outside of pain."
For Tony, a cold sweat had formed on his temple and all along his shoulders. While he didn't know if what the Winchesters had said was the truth (and after what he had just seen, who the fuck knew?), he did know that he was honestly terrified of them. Right now they both looked exactly like the serial killers they had been portrayed as, hell they looked worse, their eyes hard and so unforgiving that he actually found himself holding his breath so as not to attract their attention. But while he apparently found those little speeches scary on a whole new level, Donald apparently didn't share his opinion, as the psycho actually began to laugh.
"You two really think you can break me? I've spent centuries in hell, I've been tortured in ways your little minds can't even conceive. And you actually think you can do anything that will break me?"
Donald started chuckling helplessly again while Dean took another step forward, now only one step away from the circle. Normally Tony would have warned him about getting too close, but it really seemed that the guy couldn't get out. So he'd leave it, for now.
"Yes, we can break you. Actually, yes we will break you. And we will enjoy it."
Donald, who had been bent over with the force of his laughter, suddenly snapped straight, his eyes flashing black.
"Then let's do something that deserves it, hmm?"
And with that he threw the knife they had all forgotten in his hand, straight at Dean. Dean was far too close to dodge, and nobody was near enough to pull him out of the way. Tony could only stare as there was a solid 'thunk' and Dean spun on his feet, the blade buried to the hilt in his chest, his eyes wide with surprise.
xXx
*cackles*
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5