Fighting Demons: Chapter 6 "Crossroads and Crossed Purposes"
Author: snuggle_muggle
Title: Fighting Demons: Crossroads and Crossed Purposes
Fandom: Supernatural/Dresden Files crossover
Characters: Sam, Dean, Murphy, and Dresden
Prompt: #010, "Hell"
Word Count: 1764
Rating: PG
Genre: Supernatural/Mystery
Summary: The four of them talk after lunch and there seems to be some mutual acceptance. Or not.
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke; Murphy and Dresden belong to Jim Butcher, and they both belong to many others. But if anyone wants to take a break from the demon-hunting, I've got a spare room.
Spoiler Warning: References to the Finale of Season 2. If you haven't seen the second season but plan on watching it, this might be a chapter to skip. I think it gives away quite a lot of the plot of the finale. Sorry. I promise the whole story won't dwell on this.
Notes: This is chapter 6 of my continuing Dresden/Supernatural crossover, written for my fanfic 50 prompt table, located here. Also, this is the book universe of Dresden, not the TV universe.
Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5
Crossroads and Crossed Purposes
Sam laughed at Dean’s description of what the demons said about returning to Hell, but Dresden looked slightly confused. Karrin was looking between the three of them like she was unsure whether to laugh or to call for help so she could haul them all to the loony bin.
"You summoned demons from Hell?" Dresden’s words were slow, like he had to make sure that they understand what he said.
"I’ll tell you again, Dresden. We. Did. Not. Summon. Them." Dean scowled. "They were summoned, but it wasn’t by us. The hell mouth has been there for years, at least 100 or more, and someone else opened it. Then all these demons escaped. We tried to close the doors as quickly as we could, but a lot escaped before then."
"And then what?"
"What what?"
"What happened next?"
Dean threw up his hands in frustration. "Are we speaking a different language? We told you. We’ve been going around trying to kill off as many as we can, but they’re tricky little buggers. We have to find where they went first, then track them down, then send them back to where they came from, preferably without killing the usually innocent people they managed to possess."
"Those aren’t demons - at least not the way I define them. Not if they came from Hell. Demons come from the NeverNever and they really couldn’t care less about what happens here with mortals. They only come when they’re called and usually their first goal is to kill the wizard that called them."
Sam waved his hand. "I don’t care about semantics. We can call them whatever you damn well want to."
"I understand that." Dresden gestured at Mac, who brought over another round of ale, including one for Karrin, who took it without protest. "I’m just telling you that I don’t think the demons I’m hunting for are the same ones you are, because I’m looking for actual demons, like the ones I just described. You, on the other hand, are looking for what are typically called the Fallen. They’re angels who took up with the wrong crowd a few millennia ago. They live in Hell and they don’t want to stay there, that’s for sure."
"So . . . you won’t help us?" Dean hit the table hard enough with his fist that everyone’s bottles tipped over and there was a mad scramble to right them and clean up the liquid that spilled.
Dresden mopped up his own beer with a handful of napkins. "I didn’t say that. The fact that both our problems started at about the same time seems just a little too convenient, right?"
"You know, this little exchange is fascinating and all, but I really want to know what all of this has to do with the Department. Not that I’m not loving the food and the company, but so far I’m going to have a hard time justifying this on the clock." Karrin looked pointedly at Dresden and tapped the watch on her wrist.
"Easy," Dresden said. "All those murders that were done by magic, but to people who as far as we knew had absolutely no connection to magic or to each other . . . ."
"Yeah?"
"Well, now we know the magical connection. They were probably possessed by these Fallen that escaped. It seems likely that at least some of them would know black magic. And if they didn’t know the right spells, they would certainly know how to find them. It’s easy enough if you’re looking."
Sam thought for a minute. "So then they summoned your demons? And then, as you say your demons are wont to do, they killed them?"
"Makes sense. If you even halfway know what you’re doing when you summon a demon, you take safety measures before you call them. Either you summon them into a circle, which is what I usually do, or you place protection on yourself. But if these people were possessed, maybe the Fallen didn’t care if they got killed or not so didn’t bother to give them any helpful hints."
Dean spoke up, for once not looking skeptically at Dresden. "Maybe the killing was part of the plan. Would it be possible for them to possess a demon?"
Dresden shook his head. "I don’t really think so. I mean, when you summon them, they either have to create a body - usually not a pretty sight - or you have to provide one for them to come to. If they create it, it only lasts for a short while." He cupped his chin in his hand and stared into space for a minute. "I’ll think about it, though. I don’t want to rule it out completely."
Karrin cleared her throat. "So, we’ve got about five of these killings on the books, right? That you’re helping with? You think that’s the reason they’ve all been killed?"
Dresden looked a little sheepish. "Well, truthfully, there’ve been a few more than that."
Karrin looked murderous. "Give me the bad news, Harry."
"Okay, well, you know. You were already so busy with the ones the police had found, I didn’t want to-"
"How many?"
"About ten more, maybe. But these were a bit less innocent, shall we say. So, I’m not completely sure that it’s the same COD." Dresden looked over at Sam and Dean. "You two had any experience with this sort of stuff, demons murdering people, I mean?"
"Hell, yes." Dean exclaimed.
"Too much." Sam said at the same moment. "But, we’ve both summoned one demon before. She, he, it, whatever, it didn’t kill us." Dean whipped his head around and glared at Sam.
"Don’t bring that up here."
Dresden was now looking at them with a bit more suspicion in his expression. "I thought you two didn’t dabble in magic."
Dean growled in his throat and Sam wished he could take back the comment. He hadn’t meant to make Dean upset with him. He didn’t want to talk about that particular demon either, but it had seemed rather germane to the conversation. "This didn’t involve any spells or anything. Just, uh, ah, hell. It was a crossroads demon. Ever encountered one of those before?"
"No. But I’ve heard of them. They’re deal makers, right?"
Sam nodded briefly and felt Karrin’s eyes on him. Dean was staring hard at his ale bottle, fiddling with a tear on the label.
"What sorts of deals? I mean, why would you want to deal with a demon?" Karrin met his eyes when Sam glanced over at her. Damn, she was cute. Sort of odd considering what she did for a living.
Dean spoke up at her question. "If you want something really badly, more than anything, you’ll pretty much strike a bargain with anybody if they can give it to you."
"Not really a demon, either. Which explains why it didn’t kill you." Dresden explained. No one responded, all lost in their own thoughts.
They all sat in silence for a moment before Karrin asked the inevitable question. "Did either of you, uh, make a deal?"
"Don’t want to talk about it," both boys said at the same time. Sam looked up at her. "It doesn’t have anything to do with this. I shouldn’t have brought it up." He turned to Dresden. "I think we can help each other, though. It sounds like you are seriously overwhelmed with this and anyone that can help us banish a few of these demons, uh, Fallen, back to Hell is welcome to help as far as we’re concerned. Whatd’ya say? Shall we pool our resources?"
Dresden looked between them for a minute. "What was the deal? I’m not going to work with someone who owes something to someone else. It could put me in a very sticky spot. I’ve got to keep my hands clean, relatively anyway."
"It doesn’t have anything to do with this. Trust me."
"I don’t. Don’t take it personally. So, what was the deal?"
"Uh, I was . . ." Sam took a deep breath and glanced over at Dean, who was staring sullenly at the far wall. "Dean traded his life for mine. I was dead. He will be dead. Seven more months. Meanwhile, though, we don’t owe anyone anything. So, do you want our help or not, because we’ve been doing pretty well on our own and if you don’t-"
Dresden held up his hand. "Whoa. Let me get this straight. You-" he pointed at Sam, "were dead. And you-" he pointed at Dean "made a deal with the Fae-, uh, Crossroads Demon that he would come back to life and you would die?" Dean nodded stiffly.
"I’d do it again, too. If I had to."
"And when did you talk to this demon?" Sam had to give the man credit. He was sharp. The fact that he had said they both had summoned the demon, but it would have had to been separate times, had not escaped him. Too bad, really, because he’d have rather not discussed it, to be honest.
"Um, later. I wanted to find out exactly what the terms were, so to speak."
"And the deal you made to learn that information?"
Dean looked askance at Sam, and he shifted a bit. "I didn’t make a deal. It lost interest in the conversation before we got to that point." Dresden’s eyes narrowed and he looked even more suspicious.
"Now, that I don’t believe. You don’t discuss things with beings whose whole existence is focused on making deals without making one. I know that from personal experience. So, what was the deal you made for the information?"
"There was no deal!" Sam glanced in frustration at Dean and briefly at Karrin. He really didn’t want her thinking worse of him than she probably already did. "I cut the conversation short before we got to that point." He fisted his hands in his hair. "I killed it - I shot it and killed it and sent it back to Hell to tell its boss that I would not abide by the terms of the contract. And I seriously hope he got the message." He stood up, feeling extremely agitated despite his full stomach and the pleasant buzz from the beer. "It’s obvious to me, Dresden, that you don’t need or want our help, and believe me when I say we’ve got plenty of our own problems to deal with. Thank you for lunch. Dean, I’ll be waiting in the car. Come out when you’re ready." He stalked away from the table and didn’t even turn around to check if Dean was following him.