Don’t Judge a Book by its Criminal Record, for Alyndra
Title: Don’t Judge a Book by its Criminal Record
Recipient: Alyndra
Rating: T
Word Count: 6352
Warnings: Non-Graphic Violence
Author's Notes: To my recipient, this is my first time writing an Outsider!Pov fic, but it was what your prompts inspired so I decided to just go for it! I hope you enjoy! For those curious, the prompts I included were: Someone who lost a loved one in the Leviathan!Chesters shooting spree (or other Winchester-related tragedy) encounters them on another case and comes to realize they don't know the real story, Cops arrest Winchester(s), shenanigans ensue, and "No, I am not a pyromaniac...KILL IT WITH FIRE NOW!!!" Also, to my wonderful beta, thank you as always for your excellent work!
Sheriff Amanda Jones rubbed her forehead, ready to get to sleep. She was just about to call it a night when she’d gotten the report that two people were seen entering the cemetery with shovels. It probably wasn’t a big deal, some teenage initiation or something, but she had told Rob that he could go home early so she had to check it out.
She left her lights off as she approached. Even if this was some kids fooling around, the resting place for the dead wasn’t a place to screw with and she would make sure they got that through their heads before letting them go with a harsh warning to not do it again.
Parking her vehicle, the sheriff quietly got out of the car and started to approach the entry gate. She could make out the light of a flashlight and quiet chatter, and her muscles tensed a bit more. This didn’t sound like some kids messing around. Whoever was there sounded calm and wary, setting alarms off in her head.
Easing the gate door open, Amanda thanked the stars above that the city had recently refurbished the gate and it no longer screeched every time the wind blew wrong. She kept to the shadows as she crept closer, a hand resting on her taser gun.
Amanda could make out bits of the low conversation now, and she paused to try and get a better idea of the situation.
“I don’t know. There’s something that still doesn’t feel right about this. Greg didn’t try to attack us when he showed up. Are you sure he’s our guy?”
The other voice was harder to hear, and Amanda realised his voice was coming from in the grave. The scratching noises suddenly made much more sense and Amanda’s breath caught. She’d been in the field for a long time, but even she rarely heard about grave desecration. In fact, the only time she’d been aware of it was with the serial killers that had killed her uncle a year back.
Amanda took a steadying breath. Those two had been caught and killed fairly quickly after that stunt, though. Just because the only case of grave desecrators happened to be serial killers didn’t mean that this wasn’t some first-offense duo just looking for an adrenaline rush.
Amanda realised she had completely missed the other guy’s response. Forcing her heartbeat to calm so she could make out what they were talking about, Amanda strained her ears to continue to listen.
“I know, Dean. I just don’t think this one is as cut and dry as it seems.”
Dean.
That was the name of one of the serial killers from last year.
Shaking her head, Amanda forced herself to focus. Dean was a pretty common name, after all.
There was a loud thunk and a small whoop of excitement. Amanda started moving closer and could just make out the silhouettes of two tall men.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out in the morning,” the shorter one responded. A sloshing sound filled the air and Amanda figured they were pouring something over the grave. What, was that some type of defacement for whoever’s grave was there? Should she wait to see if they revealed anything else, or should she confront them now?
Placing a hand on the taser gun in her waistband, she started moving forward. Grave desecration was crime enough to take them into custody, so she should probably stop this before it escalated.
She was just about to call for them to freeze when the taller one lit a flame, illuminating his face. Amanda couldn’t stop the gasp that fell from her mouth, but the roar of the match sparking against the grave easily covered it. Slipping back behind a tree, he worked to calm her breaths.
Because those were the Winchesters.
The supposedly dead twice Winchesters.
The Winchesters that had brutally gunned down Uncle Bill and dozens of other innocent people without the slightest hesitation.
Yeah, she was going to have to take back the “slow night” idea. Making sure the fire was loud enough to completely cover her voice, she spoke into her radio. “Hey, Rob? I’m gonna need you tonight after all. I got a Code 8 at the cemetery turning into a Code 2 real fast.”
Thankfully, Rob wasn’t one to just take the night off without making sure things were covered, so the quiet reply came almost immediately. “Copy that. Me and Trish are on our way now. Should we call in extra back up?
Amanda considered that. If she was right, then they’d be calling in the feds pretty soon, but these dudes were supposed to be dead, weren’t they? If she mis-IDed them... She tensed her jaw, figuring she’d take the middle ground. “Call in Brad and Jason in case they don’t cooperate. We’ll call in more once we know the whole situation. Over and out.”
Silencing her radio, she stalked closer. They were now about 20 feet away, and Amanda had given up on the shadows. They seemed pretty preoccupied with the fire anyway. Clearly, they were no longer concerned with whatever the taller one had been looking out for.
The closer she got, the more Amanda was certain these were the men she thought they were. Sirens started in the distance and Amanda saw both men immediately prepare to flee. Pulling out her gun, she called out, “Freeze! Hands in the air!”
They turned around and Amanda tried not to shy away from seeing them this close. These faces had haunted her dreams, so to see them in such detail was disturbing. When they didn’t move, Amanda shouted again, “Put your hands in the air!”
She could hear her friends blocking off the exits now, and by the wild looks on the brother’s faces, she knew they saw it too.
“Look, we can explain-”
Amanda cut him off immediately. “You’re not smooth-talking your way out of this, Winchester.”
Amanda could see the way both of their faces darkened at the use of their last name and it strengthened her resolve that these men were, in fact, them.
The sirens stopped and Amanda heard her backup getting out of the car. The boys looked ready to make a break for it, but she knew the others had the back entrance covered as well. "I said, hands up."
Both men slowly raised their hands, the taller one giving a look like a kicked puppy that on anyone else would have had her softening her tone. But she had seen how hard this guy's face had been when he opened fire on her uncle and a dozen other innocent people. This had to be a ruse.
The brothers were tossing each other looks that clearly were hiding a private conversation and Amanda knew she had to put a stop to it before they came up with some way to get out of here. She approached slowly, placing her gun back in her belt in exchange for her handcuffs. Thankfully, she had taken the original claim seriously enough to bring two pairs.
"Slowly lower your hands in front of you," she said, trying to sound confident. On the inside, getting this close to cold-hearted killers was rattling her more than she wanted to admit, but this was her job, dang it. She wasn't going to let some personal trauma impact her right now.
The boys both lowered their hands in front of them and the one she knew as 'Dean' gave her a smirk. On anyone else, it might have seemed charming, but knowing what that face was capable of, it just made her more eager to get him into the jail cell under heavy security. The man glanced down at the handcuffs and the smirk grew. "Not even going to buy me dinner first?"
Ignoring the comment, Amanda quickly analysed the two. Dean seemed to be the one taking charge, so Amanda approached to cuff him first. It definitely did not have to do with the cocky smirk still on his face or the way it sent shivers up her spine.
The footsteps were getting louder now, and Amanda moved forward to cuff him, careful to keep an eye on other brother, Sam, while doing so. The first cuff went on with no hassle and Amanda felt a part of her release. It seemed like they decided to come easy.
And then a fist was flying toward her face.
She was able to turn so most of the force didn't actually connect, but the odd maneuver combined with the colliding punch knocked her to the ground. Next to Dean, Sam had turned to make a run for it and, in a desperate attempt to stop him, Amanda grabbed her taser gun and shot him in the leg.
The tall man went down hard and even Dean's shout of his name couldn't drown out the loud crack that resonated as Sam hit the ground. She turned around to confront Dean to find he was already staring at her, fury in his gaze. It struck up a new terror in her that she had never experienced before and she fumbled to get her gun up again.
But something about the look also felt strange. This wasn't anything like the flat or smug expressions she'd seen on this man's face in the video footage. It was far too raw, too emotional. If fact, with the way his eyes kept darting to his brother's prone body, Amanda would have thought that it was from terror. That is, if this were anyone else. These two didn't care about anything, though. She'd read their files before. This man had absolutely destroyed his brother's future. Burned his girlfriend alive to force him to join him on the road.
However, any sympathy she might have once considered for the younger brother had been unwarranted. The incident a year ago showed that he clearly had embraced the life since and became as cold as his brother.
But again, this man didn't feel cold at all. He seemed burning with a million emotions. Nothing at all like what she'd seen before.
She shuffled back as a low growl left the man's throat and Amanda realised that wild animal wasn't any better than a systematic killer. Her breath sped up as she tried to get away, but then the man was moving away and toward his brother.
Amanda watched for a moment as a soft voice came from the two and with a start, Amanda realised that was Dean. He had rolled Sam over and was gently tapping at his cheeks.
"Come on, man. We just got your noggin fixed. Don't do this to me."
Before Amanda could process what she was seeing, hands were checking her over and, not finding anything, pulling her to her feet.
"Sheriff, are you okay?"
She nodded, her brain processing that it was Trish who was talking to her. She forced herself to snap out of whatever haze she was in. "Yeah, I'm fine."
An angry shout behind her caused them both to turn, Trish reaching for her weapon.
Rob was struggling to hold a writhing Dean back. His arms flailed wildly, seeming desperate to get back to his brother. Sam seemed to be coming back to consciousness and Amanda quickly walked over to put on the cuffs before he was fully lucid.
Sam didn't seem to notice, his glazed eyes stuck on his struggling brother, a slight furrow in between his eyebrows.
Dean was continuing to struggle and shout obscenities, prompting Trish to raise her own taser gun. "Calm down, sir. We don't want to sedate you."
That seemed to work, because his movements calmed somewhat, but his gaze remained on Sam. "You alright, Sam?"
The younger man still seemed dazed, but managed a quick "fine" in response. Dean didn't look satisfied at the answer and Amanda could see why. She had finished putting on Sam’s cuffs easily, and could now see the pained expression that made him seem far younger than he was. Amanda had to remind herself that this was the same hardened criminal from those tapes, but he didn't look anything like that man right now.
Trish was on the other side of Sam now and together they hoisted him to his feet. Even with how out of it he looked, Sam managed to take a lot of his weight as they walked toward the car. Dean was still glaring at anyone who looked his way, but Amanda had noticed that his gaze also flickered to Sam every so often. These two really seemed different from the men who'd killed all those people, but they had responded to the name and there was no denying the physical resemblance. There was no way it wasn't them.
"Come on," Amanda said, guiding Sam into the backseat of the police vehicle. It was difficult with his tall height, but the man wasn't fighting her so they were able to get him in and situated quickly enough. Surprisingly, Dean also cooperated with getting in. Amanda could just make out some quiet words as she closed the door.
Glancing at the others, she forced the person in her back and let the sheriff take over. These brothers had killed dozens of people. For all she knew, this could just be an elaborate show to try to get them to let down their guard. Besides, they'd be out of her hands and over to the FBI soon enough.
"Alright," she said to the others. "Rob, you're with me. Trish, let the others know that we've caught them and then report back to the office. Something tells me we're going to need all hands on deck tonight."
_________
As Amanda approached the holding area, she could hear an angry voice coming from the Winchesters’ cell.
"They freaking tased you, Sam! Of course I'm pissed!"
The other voice, Sam's, was quieter and Amanda couldn't make out what it was saying, but it caused Dean's voice to lose some of the bite it had prior. "You weren't waking up, man. I mean, you just got your head screwed back on straight. We're lucky that it's only a minor concussion."
Amanda rounded the corner and entered the room, footsteps louder on the metal ground. The relaxed postures of the men immediately stiffed at the sound and Amanda barely had a glimpse of Dean’s soft expression before a mask of anger covered it. The transition was so fast that Amanda wondered if she had just imagined the original look.
She didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as Dean was up and at the bars. “Hey, what kind of crap jail is this? My brother has a head wound and nobody’s even come to check on him.”
Amanda pursed her lips. There was a part of her screaming that they didn’t deserve to be checked on after everything they had done, but the bigger part recognised that that wasn’t how this worked.
To be honest, the head wound had slipped her mind entirely. They hadn’t been able to get any of the phones to work and no digital messages seemed to be going through either. The fact that they currently had two of America’s had-been most-wanted and no way of reaching the FBI was disturbing, to say the least. In fact, it seemed far too convenient for it to not be related.
But this wasn’t a torture chamber and she wasn’t going to deny them medical care, even if they might not deserve it. “I can send a medic in if you want.”
The offended look that immediately covered his face was almost comical. “I can look after him myself. Just bring me the supplies and let me out of these cuffs.”
Amanda snorted. The whole “protective brother” act had actually had her going for a bit, but if he thought she was just going to let him loose, he had another thing coming. “Yeah, so you can break out? No way.”
Dean growled in frustration, a fist clenching before releasing with a hiss of pain. Amanda clearly wasn’t the only one who noticed and Sam was by his brother’s side in a moment.
“Are you injured?” he asked, the first sign of anger flickering across his face.
It looked like Dean was about to protest, but Sam was already pulling up his sleeve, revealing a swollen wrist, purples and yellows already forming.
Sam huffed out a breath in irritation. “Were you even going to tell me? Or just demand medical supplies for my graze while completely ignoring your potentially broken wrist?”
Amanda was taken aback at the new ferocity in his voice, but the emotion felt too honest to be reconciled with the cold detachment she’d seen on the tapes.
“It didn’t feel that bad,” Dean replied feebly.
The ease with which his brother knocked down his pride was astounding and Amanda had a hard time reconciling this sheepish man with the fearless lion from a moment ago. Though, the wrist provided a new problem. Even now, the swelling was pushing at the cuffs and there would be no way to wrap it without taking them off. That would mean putting one of their medics into close quarters with them unrestrained.
She snapped out of her thoughts to find Sam was staring at her, rage gone, with a contemplative look on his face.
“You’ll have to take off the handcuffs regardless. You might as well let us patch each other up. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”
That was the first statement that seemed to fit with their identity as serial killers but his tone wasn’t threatening or even intimidating. It was just... tired.
Amanda held her breath, disliking both her options, but eventually admitted to herself that their idea was the safest option.
With a quick “don’t try anything,” she disappeared to get the first aid kit and some stuff she thought she’d seen used to wrap wrist injuries. She honestly wasn’t very knowledgeable on medical care and supplies, but she figured that the brothers would tell her if they needed something different. Besides, their first aid kits had far more advanced supplies than most, so she figured they’d have what they needed.
When she came back, Sam was gently probing at Dean’s wrist. “You’re lucky. I don’t think it’s broken, but it could still be fractured. We’ll have to immobilize it.”
Dean groaned, but didn’t protest.
Amanda approached hesitantly and placed the first aid kit through the bars. “Give me your hands,” she said, trying to keep the fear of removing the restraints out of her voice.
They each complied and Amanda unlocked one cuff for each of them. Hopefully, leaving the cuffs on one hand would make putting them back on quick.
Sam offered a small “thanks,” and Amanda nodded stiffly. She took a step back so that she was out of their reach but still close enough to see exactly what they were doing.
Dean’s fingers were probing the back of Sam’s head as he swatted the hand away. “The blood’s practically stopped. You can patch it up after we get your wrist wrapped.”
Dean made a face but removed his hand. “You’re just lucky that your hair is practically a layer of gauze already.”
Sam sent Dean an unamused look and went to work on his brother’s wrist. Amanda found herself entranced with the scene. The way that the older one was clearly trying to hide his discomfort, but the younger constantly adjusted to make the process as painless as possible. The way the younger one leaned just the tiniest bit on the older and the way the older seemed to take as much weight from his brother as possible. The way both were bickering and insulting each other, but never once did either of those things change. If they were this good with each other, then they had to have some sense of moral compass, some sense of compassion.
So how could they have shot down all of those innocent people?
And suddenly the anger was back. Because maybe the video had shown them as cold and heartless, but that was better than actively choosing to hurt people while knowing how wrong it was.
“Where was that gentleness back in California?”
She hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t meant to say anything. The teasing comments stopped as both boys remembered she was in the room.
But now that the damage was done, she wanted an answer.
“Those people hadn’t done anything wrong. I thought you were just mindless killers, some psychopaths who get too much of a thrill from violence. But now that I see this? The way you care for each other? If you’re capable of those emotions and understanding the worth of family, how could you have taken someone else’s?”
Amanda stopped herself, but too much had already been said. She expected them to show their true colors now and revel in the fact that they had taken someone she loved, but they didn’t. Sam just looked away, the tired look back on his face, but Dean was the one that surprised her. Because he had been glaring at her for basically this whole time, the look only hardening when she brought up California. But now his face was softer, something akin to sympathy in his eyes. What kind of game were these freaks playing?
“I’m sorry,” he said, but it didn’t feel like he was apologizing for something he’d done. It felt more like a heartfelt condolence than anything else. Scratch what she’d seen on the video tape, this wasn’t a type of behavior she’d seen with any violent criminals. Not those who had been purposeful in their attacks, which these two had obviously been, right?
“Then why did you do it?” she asked, it coming out far softer than she’d intended.
“We didn’t.”
The words came from Sam, who had just finished tending to his brother’s wrist. He had only really talked to his brother since being taken in, and Amanda was almost as surprised to hear him speak up as she was to hear the words he said. Almost.
“What?” She glanced over at Dean, looking for some sign that this was the concussion talking, but he was just grabbing the gauze to wrap Sam’s head with like his brother hadn’t just said something crazy.
“Sam-” Dean started softly, but his expression looked more like he didn’t think this conversation was worth it than concern that his brother had lost it completely.
Sam just kept staring at her earnestly, his look a mix of pleading and sympathetic. “It wasn’t us,” he reiterated. “And neither were the murders that happened here. We were trying to stop them.”
Dean was cleaning Sam’s wound now, but he didn’t look surprised at any of this. He seemed to sense her eyes on him because he sent her a quick glance and added, “He’s not lying.”
But that didn’t make sense. Sure, these men seemed different, but they were definitely the Winchester brothers. This had to be some weird ploy to try to get sympathy from her. Surely they knew that she wouldn’t just let them go, right? Besides, they were desecrating a grave. How could that stop the murders that had been happening?
Before she could comment, though, Rob rushed into the room, looking flustered. “There’s been another one.”
Amanda glanced back at the brothers, who were both looking grim.
“Told ya,” Dean said, but his voice didn’t hold any of the smugness it had when she’d first caught them.
Pushing away what that might mean, she turned and followed Rob out into the hall. Behind her, she thought she heard Sam’s quiet voice say, “Guess it wasn’t a ghost after all.”
___________________
Amanda wasn’t sure how to handle this anymore. They couldn’t get in contact with the FBI or even other stations for extra security, and now they had another murder with a missing officer. One of the newer officers that Amanda didn’t know as well, Zachary, had apparently been visiting a friend to help alleviate some supposed paranoia. Thankfully, he had needed to cancel plans with Jason that night to do so, otherwise they wouldn’t have known until service was back up.
As it was, Amanda had sent Jason to pick him up so that they could have more hands in the station, but Jason had just come back and reported that Zachary’s friend was dead. The only sign that Zachary had been there was his badge on the floor, a blood splatter across its front.
Jason looked shaken as he held out the badge to her. “It was his father’s,” he said forlornly. He had wiped the blood off, but the pin had been bent and no longer closed right.
Taking it from him, Amanda slid it into her pocket for safekeeping. Having one of her own taken was unnerving, but she was the one in charge here, so she was the one who needed to make the decisions. Looking over to where Brad and Rob stood, she called, “You two, recuff the Winchesters and take them to the interrogation room.” Glancing back at Jason, she added, “You, drink some water.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and softened her voice. “We’re going to find him.”
Jason nodded jerkily, moving to his desk where his water bottle sat. He drank slowly, knowing the risk of drinking too much at once, but he still seemed too pale. As she headed to the interrogation room, she caught Trish’s eye and meaningfully nodded Jason’s way. With a small smile to show she understood, Trish headed in Jason’s direction.
When she entered the interrogation room, Brad was finishing cuffing Dean to the chair. The smug look he was giving Brad made her rage spike and she placed her hands forcefully on the table. These two had been messing around with her from the start and she was done allowing it.
“You two are dismissed,” she said, not sparing a glance at her officers.
There was a small pause before Rob’s hesitant voice rang out. “But Amanda-”
“I said you’re dismissed,” Amanda repeated harshly. “Gather everyone together in the main room. I’ll be sending people out soon.”
Amanda could feel her friend’s gaze boring into her, but she refused to acknowledge it.
“Alright,” he finally said, leaving the room and letting the door close with a heavy thud.
She examined the men in front of her, trying to find signs of the manipulation they’d been playing at. Sam was looking much more focused now, though the white wrapping around his head splayed his hair out ridiculously. Dean’s smug smile had left his face and he was studying her with the same intense gaze she was using on him.
“So, what’s the news, Sheriff?”
Amanda glared. They probably knew exactly what the news was because it was probably an accomplice of theirs taking a hostage to try to negotiate for their freedom. But she decided to bite, see if they revealed anything.
“Another murder. Slashed to death with a missing police officer to match. All that was left of him was a bloody badge. Though I’m guessing you’re not surprised.”
“Well, I definitely am.” Dean said, tone light. “That means geek boy here was onto something. Did anyone smell anything weird at the crime scene? Say, rotten eggs?”
Sam snorted quietly, but was clearly interested in the answer.
Amanda didn’t even know how to respond to this. The answer was so out of the blue, but she found herself thinking about it anyway. Jason hadn’t mentioned any smell, but that didn’t mean anything, right? “I don’t-Why? Is that some sorta signal from your accomplice?”
Dean shook his head, amused. “Definitely not our accomplice.”
“What about black liquid from people’s noses and ears?” Sam asked.
“What? No,” Amanda replied automatically. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
“Not ghost possession either then.” Sam said.
“Ghost possession?” Amanda snapped, frustrated at how quickly she had lost control in this situation. “What kind of substances have you used?” A new thought entered her mind, and she asked, “Are you involved with the strange amnesia cases as well?”
The boys looked at each other.
“Cursed object?”
“Looks like.”
The seriousness in both of their gazes made her wish she hadn’t sent Rob away after all. These two had clearly lost it sometime in the last year.
She stood up and started walking towards the door, eager to get away from these freaks. Besides, if they were involved in both cases, she should grab Trish. Since she had found them, not because Amanda was getting freaked out, obviously.
A sound from behind made her turn back just in time to see Dean’s fist flying at her face.
________
Amanda woke up to a fierce throbbing in the side of her head. She wasn’t a stranger to bumps and bruises, but she wasn’t excited to come fully to awareness.
She could feel hands holding her up almost gently, and the strangeness of the gesture was enough to get her to open her eyes. Now that she was thinking about it, Amanda could make out a voice far too loud against her ears and she realised there was something warm against her back.
Her vision came in slowly, but she could see several people in front of her, one handing something through the doorway. Her head cleared a bit more and she remembered what was going on.
Amanda was being used as a hostage.
Her instincts screamed to struggle, but she could feel the gun pressing lightly against her head. The realisation took the breath from her. This was the closest to death she had ever been and she certainly didn’t feel ready. She wondered briefly if she would feel any pain before the bullet killed her, but knew it would be too fast.
“-ow that we have the laptop, we can talk a bit more reasonably,” the voice said, and Amanda was pretty sure it was Dean. “I know this doesn’t look good, but we’re trying to help. Now, tell me about the cases. Anything weird with the witnesses or crime scenes?”
No one replied. That information was classified and her officers were instructed not to answer. Amanda had a brief moment of pride before it was replaced with terror as the gun shifted higher.
“Look, we don’t have time for this. My brother is doing everything he can to figure out what this is, but if you don’t speak up now, another person’s going to get killed.”
There was another pause and Amanda could sense the impatience growing in Dean. Anger fought with terror for control as he continued to claim benevolence. “You aren’t convincing anyone,” she snapped. “We’ve all read your files. Liars, murderers, grave diggers, pyromaniacs-”
“Whoa, hey!” Dean cut her off. “We aren’t pyromaniacs. They got that part wro-”
He was cut off when Sam burst into the room, laptop in hand. “It’s the badge, Dean! We gotta burn it now!”
Dean barely grimaced at his brother’s timing before turning to the others and shouting, “Who’s got the badge? The one from the crime scene?”
Amanda mentally cursed, realising he was referring to the one inside her pocket. Not wanting him to grab if from her and not having too much pride to hand it over to save her life, she placed her hand inside her pocket and found the metallic badge. She pulled, but something caught and her body froze.
Dean seemed to have realised that she was grabbing what he wanted and released her, but she couldn’t seem to get her body to move away from him. Instead, her hand slid slowly out of the pocket, empty, and her eyes snapped over to Jason.
“You did not speak up and now he is dead. You must die for your sins.” It was Amanda’s voice, but she wasn’t the one talking. Her whole body felt cold, almost numb, and she couldn’t stop her hand from grabbing her hand gun from the table next to her.
"Dean-" Sam's voice rang out, sharp with warning. Dean must have already been on it, though, as Amanda's body was suddenly propelled sideways by a weight crashing into it. The gun’s shot rang out, and she saw Jason drop to the ground, holding his leg.
The weight remained on top of her writhing form as a hand fumbled in the pocket holding the badge.
“Got it!” Sam cried and Amanda gasped as control returned to her body.
Dean helped her sit up as she struggled to catch her breath. The smell of lighter fluid flooded her senses and she allowed herself to take a moment.
A high-pitched screech rang out and Amanda glanced over in time to see a wispy human rise from the badge and reach for Jason before bursting into flames.
She made eye contact with Rob, who was helping Trish staunch the bleeding in Jason’s leg. He flashed a relieved look her way before turning back to the brothers.
Pushing herself up from the ground, she also turned to the two brothers. “What the heck just happened?”
______
A couple of hours later, Amanda and the brothers walked outside to where their car was still parked and she briefly wondered what year it was from. Amanda wasn’t a car person at all, but she knew this car had clearly been loved and taken care of.
“So, what are the chances of that ever happening again?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Sam huffed a short laugh. “Hopefully, pretty low. But you have our number, so if anything else stranger than normal starts to pop up, don’t hesitate to give us a call.”
“So,” Dean started, his tone carefully light. “Have you decided what you’re going to report yet?”
Amanda let out a big breath. “Certainly not the truth, that’s for sure. But we were never able to get through to the FBI or anything, so I’ve cleared your names. We’ve got good officers here. They aren’t going to say anything.”
Both brothers gave her smiles and Amanda found them quite charming now that she was aware they weren’t serial killers.
“Speaking of which,” Dean started. “What’s the deal with Jason and Zachary?”
Amanda winced, not excited about having to deal with that fallout. “Turns out Zachary’s dad convicted the wrong guy back in the 90s. Both Zach and Jason were present, but he pressured them to keep quiet. It seems mostly like a case of two kids in the wrong place at the wrong time and a bad father figure, but we’re reopening the investigation to make sure justice is done. Jason’s been pretty willing to talk, though, especially considering he had just gotten a bullet wound sewed up, so I doubt it will take long to figure out what really happened. It’ll be lots of paperwork, though.” She shrugged her shoulders, finding the whole story a bit underwhelming after the fiasco of a few hours ago.
They reached the car and Dean looked through it excitedly, mumbling something that she couldn’t quite hear.
Amanda watched amusedly, wondering how she could have ever thought these boys could be the cold, uncaring murderers she’d seen in that video. The thought hit her then, and it seemed so obvious. “You were possessed too. Back in California.”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled lightly while Dean got inside the car with a big grin. “Yeah,” Sam said. “Something like that.”
Dean was rifling through what looked suspiciously like cassette tapes and, catching her staring, gave two thumbs up as if she had been asking if they were okay. She definitely had pegged these guys wrong.
“You lost someone in that bank, didn’t you. Family.”
Amanda knew it wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. “My uncle.”
Sam winced. “I’m sorry. Those people would still be alive if it wasn’t for us.”
Amanda was shaking her head before he was even finished. “From where I stand, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do it. In fact, it sounds like you’re the ones who stopped it from continuing. Not to mention I owe you my life. I think that gives you a pretty clean slate.”
Sam smiled, but it seemed more to satisfy her than because he agreed. She was about to push it further when a loud honk filled the air. Dean opened the door and shouted, “Sam, you coming or should I leave you here for when the other cops arrive?”
The comment was teasing and Sam’s fake smile was immediately replaced by a real one.
He met her eyes one more time and she said a quick but heartfelt “thank you” before stepping away to give them space to back out.
Amanda watched the car as it drove away. She waved, but the boys seemed to be bickering, smiles set firmly on each of their faces. She felt her own smile spread as she walked back to her car. They’d be fine, she knew. They lived a hard life, but they clearly had each other to help them fight the good fight.
Amanda got into her car, about to head back to the station when her phone screen lit up with a text from Rob.
Hey, last night was insane and the paperwork can wait. I’ve got coffee and netflix all set up and my dog is in a cuddly mood. Come over whenever you’re done dropping off the brothers.
Her grin widened. The brothers weren’t the only ones with help in fighting the good fight.
Quickly turning the car around, she found herself relaxing and looking forward to her time with Rob. After all, she’d been fighting the good fight all day and a little break wouldn’t hurt anyone.
She put the business card Sam had given her on the other seat and turned her attention back to the road.
It was time to move forward.
Recipient: Alyndra
Rating: T
Word Count: 6352
Warnings: Non-Graphic Violence
Author's Notes: To my recipient, this is my first time writing an Outsider!Pov fic, but it was what your prompts inspired so I decided to just go for it! I hope you enjoy! For those curious, the prompts I included were: Someone who lost a loved one in the Leviathan!Chesters shooting spree (or other Winchester-related tragedy) encounters them on another case and comes to realize they don't know the real story, Cops arrest Winchester(s), shenanigans ensue, and "No, I am not a pyromaniac...KILL IT WITH FIRE NOW!!!" Also, to my wonderful beta, thank you as always for your excellent work!
Sheriff Amanda Jones rubbed her forehead, ready to get to sleep. She was just about to call it a night when she’d gotten the report that two people were seen entering the cemetery with shovels. It probably wasn’t a big deal, some teenage initiation or something, but she had told Rob that he could go home early so she had to check it out.
She left her lights off as she approached. Even if this was some kids fooling around, the resting place for the dead wasn’t a place to screw with and she would make sure they got that through their heads before letting them go with a harsh warning to not do it again.
Parking her vehicle, the sheriff quietly got out of the car and started to approach the entry gate. She could make out the light of a flashlight and quiet chatter, and her muscles tensed a bit more. This didn’t sound like some kids messing around. Whoever was there sounded calm and wary, setting alarms off in her head.
Easing the gate door open, Amanda thanked the stars above that the city had recently refurbished the gate and it no longer screeched every time the wind blew wrong. She kept to the shadows as she crept closer, a hand resting on her taser gun.
Amanda could make out bits of the low conversation now, and she paused to try and get a better idea of the situation.
“I don’t know. There’s something that still doesn’t feel right about this. Greg didn’t try to attack us when he showed up. Are you sure he’s our guy?”
The other voice was harder to hear, and Amanda realised his voice was coming from in the grave. The scratching noises suddenly made much more sense and Amanda’s breath caught. She’d been in the field for a long time, but even she rarely heard about grave desecration. In fact, the only time she’d been aware of it was with the serial killers that had killed her uncle a year back.
Amanda took a steadying breath. Those two had been caught and killed fairly quickly after that stunt, though. Just because the only case of grave desecrators happened to be serial killers didn’t mean that this wasn’t some first-offense duo just looking for an adrenaline rush.
Amanda realised she had completely missed the other guy’s response. Forcing her heartbeat to calm so she could make out what they were talking about, Amanda strained her ears to continue to listen.
“I know, Dean. I just don’t think this one is as cut and dry as it seems.”
Dean.
That was the name of one of the serial killers from last year.
Shaking her head, Amanda forced herself to focus. Dean was a pretty common name, after all.
There was a loud thunk and a small whoop of excitement. Amanda started moving closer and could just make out the silhouettes of two tall men.
“Well, I guess we’ll find out in the morning,” the shorter one responded. A sloshing sound filled the air and Amanda figured they were pouring something over the grave. What, was that some type of defacement for whoever’s grave was there? Should she wait to see if they revealed anything else, or should she confront them now?
Placing a hand on the taser gun in her waistband, she started moving forward. Grave desecration was crime enough to take them into custody, so she should probably stop this before it escalated.
She was just about to call for them to freeze when the taller one lit a flame, illuminating his face. Amanda couldn’t stop the gasp that fell from her mouth, but the roar of the match sparking against the grave easily covered it. Slipping back behind a tree, he worked to calm her breaths.
Because those were the Winchesters.
The supposedly dead twice Winchesters.
The Winchesters that had brutally gunned down Uncle Bill and dozens of other innocent people without the slightest hesitation.
Yeah, she was going to have to take back the “slow night” idea. Making sure the fire was loud enough to completely cover her voice, she spoke into her radio. “Hey, Rob? I’m gonna need you tonight after all. I got a Code 8 at the cemetery turning into a Code 2 real fast.”
Thankfully, Rob wasn’t one to just take the night off without making sure things were covered, so the quiet reply came almost immediately. “Copy that. Me and Trish are on our way now. Should we call in extra back up?
Amanda considered that. If she was right, then they’d be calling in the feds pretty soon, but these dudes were supposed to be dead, weren’t they? If she mis-IDed them... She tensed her jaw, figuring she’d take the middle ground. “Call in Brad and Jason in case they don’t cooperate. We’ll call in more once we know the whole situation. Over and out.”
Silencing her radio, she stalked closer. They were now about 20 feet away, and Amanda had given up on the shadows. They seemed pretty preoccupied with the fire anyway. Clearly, they were no longer concerned with whatever the taller one had been looking out for.
The closer she got, the more Amanda was certain these were the men she thought they were. Sirens started in the distance and Amanda saw both men immediately prepare to flee. Pulling out her gun, she called out, “Freeze! Hands in the air!”
They turned around and Amanda tried not to shy away from seeing them this close. These faces had haunted her dreams, so to see them in such detail was disturbing. When they didn’t move, Amanda shouted again, “Put your hands in the air!”
She could hear her friends blocking off the exits now, and by the wild looks on the brother’s faces, she knew they saw it too.
“Look, we can explain-”
Amanda cut him off immediately. “You’re not smooth-talking your way out of this, Winchester.”
Amanda could see the way both of their faces darkened at the use of their last name and it strengthened her resolve that these men were, in fact, them.
The sirens stopped and Amanda heard her backup getting out of the car. The boys looked ready to make a break for it, but she knew the others had the back entrance covered as well. "I said, hands up."
Both men slowly raised their hands, the taller one giving a look like a kicked puppy that on anyone else would have had her softening her tone. But she had seen how hard this guy's face had been when he opened fire on her uncle and a dozen other innocent people. This had to be a ruse.
The brothers were tossing each other looks that clearly were hiding a private conversation and Amanda knew she had to put a stop to it before they came up with some way to get out of here. She approached slowly, placing her gun back in her belt in exchange for her handcuffs. Thankfully, she had taken the original claim seriously enough to bring two pairs.
"Slowly lower your hands in front of you," she said, trying to sound confident. On the inside, getting this close to cold-hearted killers was rattling her more than she wanted to admit, but this was her job, dang it. She wasn't going to let some personal trauma impact her right now.
The boys both lowered their hands in front of them and the one she knew as 'Dean' gave her a smirk. On anyone else, it might have seemed charming, but knowing what that face was capable of, it just made her more eager to get him into the jail cell under heavy security. The man glanced down at the handcuffs and the smirk grew. "Not even going to buy me dinner first?"
Ignoring the comment, Amanda quickly analysed the two. Dean seemed to be the one taking charge, so Amanda approached to cuff him first. It definitely did not have to do with the cocky smirk still on his face or the way it sent shivers up her spine.
The footsteps were getting louder now, and Amanda moved forward to cuff him, careful to keep an eye on other brother, Sam, while doing so. The first cuff went on with no hassle and Amanda felt a part of her release. It seemed like they decided to come easy.
And then a fist was flying toward her face.
She was able to turn so most of the force didn't actually connect, but the odd maneuver combined with the colliding punch knocked her to the ground. Next to Dean, Sam had turned to make a run for it and, in a desperate attempt to stop him, Amanda grabbed her taser gun and shot him in the leg.
The tall man went down hard and even Dean's shout of his name couldn't drown out the loud crack that resonated as Sam hit the ground. She turned around to confront Dean to find he was already staring at her, fury in his gaze. It struck up a new terror in her that she had never experienced before and she fumbled to get her gun up again.
But something about the look also felt strange. This wasn't anything like the flat or smug expressions she'd seen on this man's face in the video footage. It was far too raw, too emotional. If fact, with the way his eyes kept darting to his brother's prone body, Amanda would have thought that it was from terror. That is, if this were anyone else. These two didn't care about anything, though. She'd read their files before. This man had absolutely destroyed his brother's future. Burned his girlfriend alive to force him to join him on the road.
However, any sympathy she might have once considered for the younger brother had been unwarranted. The incident a year ago showed that he clearly had embraced the life since and became as cold as his brother.
But again, this man didn't feel cold at all. He seemed burning with a million emotions. Nothing at all like what she'd seen before.
She shuffled back as a low growl left the man's throat and Amanda realised that wild animal wasn't any better than a systematic killer. Her breath sped up as she tried to get away, but then the man was moving away and toward his brother.
Amanda watched for a moment as a soft voice came from the two and with a start, Amanda realised that was Dean. He had rolled Sam over and was gently tapping at his cheeks.
"Come on, man. We just got your noggin fixed. Don't do this to me."
Before Amanda could process what she was seeing, hands were checking her over and, not finding anything, pulling her to her feet.
"Sheriff, are you okay?"
She nodded, her brain processing that it was Trish who was talking to her. She forced herself to snap out of whatever haze she was in. "Yeah, I'm fine."
An angry shout behind her caused them both to turn, Trish reaching for her weapon.
Rob was struggling to hold a writhing Dean back. His arms flailed wildly, seeming desperate to get back to his brother. Sam seemed to be coming back to consciousness and Amanda quickly walked over to put on the cuffs before he was fully lucid.
Sam didn't seem to notice, his glazed eyes stuck on his struggling brother, a slight furrow in between his eyebrows.
Dean was continuing to struggle and shout obscenities, prompting Trish to raise her own taser gun. "Calm down, sir. We don't want to sedate you."
That seemed to work, because his movements calmed somewhat, but his gaze remained on Sam. "You alright, Sam?"
The younger man still seemed dazed, but managed a quick "fine" in response. Dean didn't look satisfied at the answer and Amanda could see why. She had finished putting on Sam’s cuffs easily, and could now see the pained expression that made him seem far younger than he was. Amanda had to remind herself that this was the same hardened criminal from those tapes, but he didn't look anything like that man right now.
Trish was on the other side of Sam now and together they hoisted him to his feet. Even with how out of it he looked, Sam managed to take a lot of his weight as they walked toward the car. Dean was still glaring at anyone who looked his way, but Amanda had noticed that his gaze also flickered to Sam every so often. These two really seemed different from the men who'd killed all those people, but they had responded to the name and there was no denying the physical resemblance. There was no way it wasn't them.
"Come on," Amanda said, guiding Sam into the backseat of the police vehicle. It was difficult with his tall height, but the man wasn't fighting her so they were able to get him in and situated quickly enough. Surprisingly, Dean also cooperated with getting in. Amanda could just make out some quiet words as she closed the door.
Glancing at the others, she forced the person in her back and let the sheriff take over. These brothers had killed dozens of people. For all she knew, this could just be an elaborate show to try to get them to let down their guard. Besides, they'd be out of her hands and over to the FBI soon enough.
"Alright," she said to the others. "Rob, you're with me. Trish, let the others know that we've caught them and then report back to the office. Something tells me we're going to need all hands on deck tonight."
_________
As Amanda approached the holding area, she could hear an angry voice coming from the Winchesters’ cell.
"They freaking tased you, Sam! Of course I'm pissed!"
The other voice, Sam's, was quieter and Amanda couldn't make out what it was saying, but it caused Dean's voice to lose some of the bite it had prior. "You weren't waking up, man. I mean, you just got your head screwed back on straight. We're lucky that it's only a minor concussion."
Amanda rounded the corner and entered the room, footsteps louder on the metal ground. The relaxed postures of the men immediately stiffed at the sound and Amanda barely had a glimpse of Dean’s soft expression before a mask of anger covered it. The transition was so fast that Amanda wondered if she had just imagined the original look.
She didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, as Dean was up and at the bars. “Hey, what kind of crap jail is this? My brother has a head wound and nobody’s even come to check on him.”
Amanda pursed her lips. There was a part of her screaming that they didn’t deserve to be checked on after everything they had done, but the bigger part recognised that that wasn’t how this worked.
To be honest, the head wound had slipped her mind entirely. They hadn’t been able to get any of the phones to work and no digital messages seemed to be going through either. The fact that they currently had two of America’s had-been most-wanted and no way of reaching the FBI was disturbing, to say the least. In fact, it seemed far too convenient for it to not be related.
But this wasn’t a torture chamber and she wasn’t going to deny them medical care, even if they might not deserve it. “I can send a medic in if you want.”
The offended look that immediately covered his face was almost comical. “I can look after him myself. Just bring me the supplies and let me out of these cuffs.”
Amanda snorted. The whole “protective brother” act had actually had her going for a bit, but if he thought she was just going to let him loose, he had another thing coming. “Yeah, so you can break out? No way.”
Dean growled in frustration, a fist clenching before releasing with a hiss of pain. Amanda clearly wasn’t the only one who noticed and Sam was by his brother’s side in a moment.
“Are you injured?” he asked, the first sign of anger flickering across his face.
It looked like Dean was about to protest, but Sam was already pulling up his sleeve, revealing a swollen wrist, purples and yellows already forming.
Sam huffed out a breath in irritation. “Were you even going to tell me? Or just demand medical supplies for my graze while completely ignoring your potentially broken wrist?”
Amanda was taken aback at the new ferocity in his voice, but the emotion felt too honest to be reconciled with the cold detachment she’d seen on the tapes.
“It didn’t feel that bad,” Dean replied feebly.
The ease with which his brother knocked down his pride was astounding and Amanda had a hard time reconciling this sheepish man with the fearless lion from a moment ago. Though, the wrist provided a new problem. Even now, the swelling was pushing at the cuffs and there would be no way to wrap it without taking them off. That would mean putting one of their medics into close quarters with them unrestrained.
She snapped out of her thoughts to find Sam was staring at her, rage gone, with a contemplative look on his face.
“You’ll have to take off the handcuffs regardless. You might as well let us patch each other up. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”
That was the first statement that seemed to fit with their identity as serial killers but his tone wasn’t threatening or even intimidating. It was just... tired.
Amanda held her breath, disliking both her options, but eventually admitted to herself that their idea was the safest option.
With a quick “don’t try anything,” she disappeared to get the first aid kit and some stuff she thought she’d seen used to wrap wrist injuries. She honestly wasn’t very knowledgeable on medical care and supplies, but she figured that the brothers would tell her if they needed something different. Besides, their first aid kits had far more advanced supplies than most, so she figured they’d have what they needed.
When she came back, Sam was gently probing at Dean’s wrist. “You’re lucky. I don’t think it’s broken, but it could still be fractured. We’ll have to immobilize it.”
Dean groaned, but didn’t protest.
Amanda approached hesitantly and placed the first aid kit through the bars. “Give me your hands,” she said, trying to keep the fear of removing the restraints out of her voice.
They each complied and Amanda unlocked one cuff for each of them. Hopefully, leaving the cuffs on one hand would make putting them back on quick.
Sam offered a small “thanks,” and Amanda nodded stiffly. She took a step back so that she was out of their reach but still close enough to see exactly what they were doing.
Dean’s fingers were probing the back of Sam’s head as he swatted the hand away. “The blood’s practically stopped. You can patch it up after we get your wrist wrapped.”
Dean made a face but removed his hand. “You’re just lucky that your hair is practically a layer of gauze already.”
Sam sent Dean an unamused look and went to work on his brother’s wrist. Amanda found herself entranced with the scene. The way that the older one was clearly trying to hide his discomfort, but the younger constantly adjusted to make the process as painless as possible. The way the younger one leaned just the tiniest bit on the older and the way the older seemed to take as much weight from his brother as possible. The way both were bickering and insulting each other, but never once did either of those things change. If they were this good with each other, then they had to have some sense of moral compass, some sense of compassion.
So how could they have shot down all of those innocent people?
And suddenly the anger was back. Because maybe the video had shown them as cold and heartless, but that was better than actively choosing to hurt people while knowing how wrong it was.
“Where was that gentleness back in California?”
She hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t meant to say anything. The teasing comments stopped as both boys remembered she was in the room.
But now that the damage was done, she wanted an answer.
“Those people hadn’t done anything wrong. I thought you were just mindless killers, some psychopaths who get too much of a thrill from violence. But now that I see this? The way you care for each other? If you’re capable of those emotions and understanding the worth of family, how could you have taken someone else’s?”
Amanda stopped herself, but too much had already been said. She expected them to show their true colors now and revel in the fact that they had taken someone she loved, but they didn’t. Sam just looked away, the tired look back on his face, but Dean was the one that surprised her. Because he had been glaring at her for basically this whole time, the look only hardening when she brought up California. But now his face was softer, something akin to sympathy in his eyes. What kind of game were these freaks playing?
“I’m sorry,” he said, but it didn’t feel like he was apologizing for something he’d done. It felt more like a heartfelt condolence than anything else. Scratch what she’d seen on the video tape, this wasn’t a type of behavior she’d seen with any violent criminals. Not those who had been purposeful in their attacks, which these two had obviously been, right?
“Then why did you do it?” she asked, it coming out far softer than she’d intended.
“We didn’t.”
The words came from Sam, who had just finished tending to his brother’s wrist. He had only really talked to his brother since being taken in, and Amanda was almost as surprised to hear him speak up as she was to hear the words he said. Almost.
“What?” She glanced over at Dean, looking for some sign that this was the concussion talking, but he was just grabbing the gauze to wrap Sam’s head with like his brother hadn’t just said something crazy.
“Sam-” Dean started softly, but his expression looked more like he didn’t think this conversation was worth it than concern that his brother had lost it completely.
Sam just kept staring at her earnestly, his look a mix of pleading and sympathetic. “It wasn’t us,” he reiterated. “And neither were the murders that happened here. We were trying to stop them.”
Dean was cleaning Sam’s wound now, but he didn’t look surprised at any of this. He seemed to sense her eyes on him because he sent her a quick glance and added, “He’s not lying.”
But that didn’t make sense. Sure, these men seemed different, but they were definitely the Winchester brothers. This had to be some weird ploy to try to get sympathy from her. Surely they knew that she wouldn’t just let them go, right? Besides, they were desecrating a grave. How could that stop the murders that had been happening?
Before she could comment, though, Rob rushed into the room, looking flustered. “There’s been another one.”
Amanda glanced back at the brothers, who were both looking grim.
“Told ya,” Dean said, but his voice didn’t hold any of the smugness it had when she’d first caught them.
Pushing away what that might mean, she turned and followed Rob out into the hall. Behind her, she thought she heard Sam’s quiet voice say, “Guess it wasn’t a ghost after all.”
___________________
Amanda wasn’t sure how to handle this anymore. They couldn’t get in contact with the FBI or even other stations for extra security, and now they had another murder with a missing officer. One of the newer officers that Amanda didn’t know as well, Zachary, had apparently been visiting a friend to help alleviate some supposed paranoia. Thankfully, he had needed to cancel plans with Jason that night to do so, otherwise they wouldn’t have known until service was back up.
As it was, Amanda had sent Jason to pick him up so that they could have more hands in the station, but Jason had just come back and reported that Zachary’s friend was dead. The only sign that Zachary had been there was his badge on the floor, a blood splatter across its front.
Jason looked shaken as he held out the badge to her. “It was his father’s,” he said forlornly. He had wiped the blood off, but the pin had been bent and no longer closed right.
Taking it from him, Amanda slid it into her pocket for safekeeping. Having one of her own taken was unnerving, but she was the one in charge here, so she was the one who needed to make the decisions. Looking over to where Brad and Rob stood, she called, “You two, recuff the Winchesters and take them to the interrogation room.” Glancing back at Jason, she added, “You, drink some water.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and softened her voice. “We’re going to find him.”
Jason nodded jerkily, moving to his desk where his water bottle sat. He drank slowly, knowing the risk of drinking too much at once, but he still seemed too pale. As she headed to the interrogation room, she caught Trish’s eye and meaningfully nodded Jason’s way. With a small smile to show she understood, Trish headed in Jason’s direction.
When she entered the interrogation room, Brad was finishing cuffing Dean to the chair. The smug look he was giving Brad made her rage spike and she placed her hands forcefully on the table. These two had been messing around with her from the start and she was done allowing it.
“You two are dismissed,” she said, not sparing a glance at her officers.
There was a small pause before Rob’s hesitant voice rang out. “But Amanda-”
“I said you’re dismissed,” Amanda repeated harshly. “Gather everyone together in the main room. I’ll be sending people out soon.”
Amanda could feel her friend’s gaze boring into her, but she refused to acknowledge it.
“Alright,” he finally said, leaving the room and letting the door close with a heavy thud.
She examined the men in front of her, trying to find signs of the manipulation they’d been playing at. Sam was looking much more focused now, though the white wrapping around his head splayed his hair out ridiculously. Dean’s smug smile had left his face and he was studying her with the same intense gaze she was using on him.
“So, what’s the news, Sheriff?”
Amanda glared. They probably knew exactly what the news was because it was probably an accomplice of theirs taking a hostage to try to negotiate for their freedom. But she decided to bite, see if they revealed anything.
“Another murder. Slashed to death with a missing police officer to match. All that was left of him was a bloody badge. Though I’m guessing you’re not surprised.”
“Well, I definitely am.” Dean said, tone light. “That means geek boy here was onto something. Did anyone smell anything weird at the crime scene? Say, rotten eggs?”
Sam snorted quietly, but was clearly interested in the answer.
Amanda didn’t even know how to respond to this. The answer was so out of the blue, but she found herself thinking about it anyway. Jason hadn’t mentioned any smell, but that didn’t mean anything, right? “I don’t-Why? Is that some sorta signal from your accomplice?”
Dean shook his head, amused. “Definitely not our accomplice.”
“What about black liquid from people’s noses and ears?” Sam asked.
“What? No,” Amanda replied automatically. “What the heck is that supposed to mean?”
“Not ghost possession either then.” Sam said.
“Ghost possession?” Amanda snapped, frustrated at how quickly she had lost control in this situation. “What kind of substances have you used?” A new thought entered her mind, and she asked, “Are you involved with the strange amnesia cases as well?”
The boys looked at each other.
“Cursed object?”
“Looks like.”
The seriousness in both of their gazes made her wish she hadn’t sent Rob away after all. These two had clearly lost it sometime in the last year.
She stood up and started walking towards the door, eager to get away from these freaks. Besides, if they were involved in both cases, she should grab Trish. Since she had found them, not because Amanda was getting freaked out, obviously.
A sound from behind made her turn back just in time to see Dean’s fist flying at her face.
________
Amanda woke up to a fierce throbbing in the side of her head. She wasn’t a stranger to bumps and bruises, but she wasn’t excited to come fully to awareness.
She could feel hands holding her up almost gently, and the strangeness of the gesture was enough to get her to open her eyes. Now that she was thinking about it, Amanda could make out a voice far too loud against her ears and she realised there was something warm against her back.
Her vision came in slowly, but she could see several people in front of her, one handing something through the doorway. Her head cleared a bit more and she remembered what was going on.
Amanda was being used as a hostage.
Her instincts screamed to struggle, but she could feel the gun pressing lightly against her head. The realisation took the breath from her. This was the closest to death she had ever been and she certainly didn’t feel ready. She wondered briefly if she would feel any pain before the bullet killed her, but knew it would be too fast.
“-ow that we have the laptop, we can talk a bit more reasonably,” the voice said, and Amanda was pretty sure it was Dean. “I know this doesn’t look good, but we’re trying to help. Now, tell me about the cases. Anything weird with the witnesses or crime scenes?”
No one replied. That information was classified and her officers were instructed not to answer. Amanda had a brief moment of pride before it was replaced with terror as the gun shifted higher.
“Look, we don’t have time for this. My brother is doing everything he can to figure out what this is, but if you don’t speak up now, another person’s going to get killed.”
There was another pause and Amanda could sense the impatience growing in Dean. Anger fought with terror for control as he continued to claim benevolence. “You aren’t convincing anyone,” she snapped. “We’ve all read your files. Liars, murderers, grave diggers, pyromaniacs-”
“Whoa, hey!” Dean cut her off. “We aren’t pyromaniacs. They got that part wro-”
He was cut off when Sam burst into the room, laptop in hand. “It’s the badge, Dean! We gotta burn it now!”
Dean barely grimaced at his brother’s timing before turning to the others and shouting, “Who’s got the badge? The one from the crime scene?”
Amanda mentally cursed, realising he was referring to the one inside her pocket. Not wanting him to grab if from her and not having too much pride to hand it over to save her life, she placed her hand inside her pocket and found the metallic badge. She pulled, but something caught and her body froze.
Dean seemed to have realised that she was grabbing what he wanted and released her, but she couldn’t seem to get her body to move away from him. Instead, her hand slid slowly out of the pocket, empty, and her eyes snapped over to Jason.
“You did not speak up and now he is dead. You must die for your sins.” It was Amanda’s voice, but she wasn’t the one talking. Her whole body felt cold, almost numb, and she couldn’t stop her hand from grabbing her hand gun from the table next to her.
"Dean-" Sam's voice rang out, sharp with warning. Dean must have already been on it, though, as Amanda's body was suddenly propelled sideways by a weight crashing into it. The gun’s shot rang out, and she saw Jason drop to the ground, holding his leg.
The weight remained on top of her writhing form as a hand fumbled in the pocket holding the badge.
“Got it!” Sam cried and Amanda gasped as control returned to her body.
Dean helped her sit up as she struggled to catch her breath. The smell of lighter fluid flooded her senses and she allowed herself to take a moment.
A high-pitched screech rang out and Amanda glanced over in time to see a wispy human rise from the badge and reach for Jason before bursting into flames.
She made eye contact with Rob, who was helping Trish staunch the bleeding in Jason’s leg. He flashed a relieved look her way before turning back to the brothers.
Pushing herself up from the ground, she also turned to the two brothers. “What the heck just happened?”
______
A couple of hours later, Amanda and the brothers walked outside to where their car was still parked and she briefly wondered what year it was from. Amanda wasn’t a car person at all, but she knew this car had clearly been loved and taken care of.
“So, what are the chances of that ever happening again?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
Sam huffed a short laugh. “Hopefully, pretty low. But you have our number, so if anything else stranger than normal starts to pop up, don’t hesitate to give us a call.”
“So,” Dean started, his tone carefully light. “Have you decided what you’re going to report yet?”
Amanda let out a big breath. “Certainly not the truth, that’s for sure. But we were never able to get through to the FBI or anything, so I’ve cleared your names. We’ve got good officers here. They aren’t going to say anything.”
Both brothers gave her smiles and Amanda found them quite charming now that she was aware they weren’t serial killers.
“Speaking of which,” Dean started. “What’s the deal with Jason and Zachary?”
Amanda winced, not excited about having to deal with that fallout. “Turns out Zachary’s dad convicted the wrong guy back in the 90s. Both Zach and Jason were present, but he pressured them to keep quiet. It seems mostly like a case of two kids in the wrong place at the wrong time and a bad father figure, but we’re reopening the investigation to make sure justice is done. Jason’s been pretty willing to talk, though, especially considering he had just gotten a bullet wound sewed up, so I doubt it will take long to figure out what really happened. It’ll be lots of paperwork, though.” She shrugged her shoulders, finding the whole story a bit underwhelming after the fiasco of a few hours ago.
They reached the car and Dean looked through it excitedly, mumbling something that she couldn’t quite hear.
Amanda watched amusedly, wondering how she could have ever thought these boys could be the cold, uncaring murderers she’d seen in that video. The thought hit her then, and it seemed so obvious. “You were possessed too. Back in California.”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled lightly while Dean got inside the car with a big grin. “Yeah,” Sam said. “Something like that.”
Dean was rifling through what looked suspiciously like cassette tapes and, catching her staring, gave two thumbs up as if she had been asking if they were okay. She definitely had pegged these guys wrong.
“You lost someone in that bank, didn’t you. Family.”
Amanda knew it wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. “My uncle.”
Sam winced. “I’m sorry. Those people would still be alive if it wasn’t for us.”
Amanda was shaking her head before he was even finished. “From where I stand, you have nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do it. In fact, it sounds like you’re the ones who stopped it from continuing. Not to mention I owe you my life. I think that gives you a pretty clean slate.”
Sam smiled, but it seemed more to satisfy her than because he agreed. She was about to push it further when a loud honk filled the air. Dean opened the door and shouted, “Sam, you coming or should I leave you here for when the other cops arrive?”
The comment was teasing and Sam’s fake smile was immediately replaced by a real one.
He met her eyes one more time and she said a quick but heartfelt “thank you” before stepping away to give them space to back out.
Amanda watched the car as it drove away. She waved, but the boys seemed to be bickering, smiles set firmly on each of their faces. She felt her own smile spread as she walked back to her car. They’d be fine, she knew. They lived a hard life, but they clearly had each other to help them fight the good fight.
Amanda got into her car, about to head back to the station when her phone screen lit up with a text from Rob.
Hey, last night was insane and the paperwork can wait. I’ve got coffee and netflix all set up and my dog is in a cuddly mood. Come over whenever you’re done dropping off the brothers.
Her grin widened. The brothers weren’t the only ones with help in fighting the good fight.
Quickly turning the car around, she found herself relaxing and looking forward to her time with Rob. After all, she’d been fighting the good fight all day and a little break wouldn’t hurt anyone.
She put the business card Sam had given her on the other seat and turned her attention back to the road.
It was time to move forward.