experimental weirdness, part 14
Title: An End Has a Start
Rating: R
A/N: This is pretty much the last part. I may do an epilogue at some point, but this is the end. And before anyone says anything about the ending seeming rushed, that's because it is. This story was never about the demons and monsters, it was about Seth and Ryan being depressing and that's pretty much over, so this story is too.
A/N 2: follow the tag for previous parts
Stillwater Newspress
October 28, 2008
Gruesome murder leaves police baffled
By Jacob E. Hargrove
Stillwater - Sheila Heines, a recent graduate of Stillwater High School, was found murdered in her home on Friday afternoon. The nineteen year old was three months pregnant with her second child and was working on her degree from the Meridian Technology Center. “She had a lot to live for,” says boyfriend Josh Morell.
The death of Heines is the most recent in a string of similar murders across the United States, dating back as early as 1998…
“Seth, seriously, why am I reading this?” Ryan said, letting the newspaper fall limply in half. “A girl got killed, it’s nothing new.”
“No, keep reading,” Seth said, pointing toward the middle of the article.
…reports of the fetuses being ripped out and no forensic evidence are common themes in these murders. In Hatfield, Pennsylvania; Clayton, Alabama; Jacksboro, Tennessee; Newport Beach, California; Oakdale, Minnesota…
“See?” Seth asked, dropping onto his motel bed.
“Look, just because some Oklahoma reporter links them together, doesn’t mean they are,” Ryan said, even though his stomach felt cold.
…
They’d been doing this for almost two years; crime scenes shouldn’t make him want to throw up.
But he couldn’t help flashing back to when his house - the house he’d grown up in - had been covered in yellow tape and flashing lights and men with forensics kits, looking for evidence.
There hadn’t been any, he could’ve told them that. Not that they would have listened.
Seth went first, ducking under the tape while Ryan made sure there wasn’t anyone around to see them.
When he was thirteen, he’d read The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay for the first time and he’d become obsessed with learning how to pick locks. Joe Kavalier did it; he wanted to, too.
Who knew it would come in handy one day?
“You almost done?” Ryan asked just as Seth felt the tumbler roll into place.
“Done,” he said, pushing the door open.
“Looks like the crime scene cleanup hasn’t come through,” Ryan observed, nodding towards the living room and the blood pooled on the carpet.
“The police said they didn’t find any fingerprints, footprints, or any sign of forced entry,” Seth said back. “Just the girl with her throat slashed and her stomach ripped open.”
“Sounds familiar,” Ryan said and watched Seth flinch.
…
It wasn’t until they’d finished inside and gone out into the yard that they found what they’d been looking for.
Ten gouges in the dirt, spaced like footprints. The police would’ve overlooked them.
“There,” Seth said, pointing. “You think it’s a lamashtu?”
“If what we read is right,” Ryan said, shrugging. “They’ve got clawed feet, so it makes sense.”
“And long fingernails, right?” Seth said. “Which is why they can’t figure out what was used to cut open the victims. It’s not tool marks, it’s nail marks.”
“Good. You got the amulets?” Ryan asked, voice sounding tight.
“I got ‘em.”
…
It was so easy.
Once they knew what it was; once they knew where it had last killed, it was easy to find.
She was hiding in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city; it smelled like blood and feces and Ryan watched Seth gag when they went inside.
“Hunters,” she said, her red eyes flashing in the glare from the lights outside. “What did I do to piss you guys off?”
“Besides killing people and generally being disgusting?” Seth asked, but his tone lacked sarcasm. He just sounded scared.
She laughed and wagged one long finger at them, the nail still coated in dried blood.
“You smell familiar,” she said, tilting her head. “Did I kill your wife?”
“Mother,” Seth said, standing straighter. “And father. And sibling.”
“Well, I bet it was delicious,” she said, like it was a compliment; the dried blood on her lips cracking as she smiled.
“Seth,” Ryan warned when he took a step forward.
Seth wasn’t a fighter.
He’d gotten better and he could hold his own, but a full on attack?
Ryan had come too far to let Seth die now.
“You don’t smell familiar,” she said, turning to look at him.
“Can you just kill the bitch?” Seth asked, hand readjusting on his sword.
Ryan nodded as the lamashtu smiled.
…
Summer frowned down at her phone.
Seth hadn’t called yet, and it was almost one in the morning.
She knew she shouldn’t really worry, because sometimes their hunts went long, but the last time they’d talked, Seth told her that they were close.
She should stop worrying; she should turn off the light and lie down and try to sleep until her cell phone woke her up.
The worst part was, she couldn’t even call him.
Ryan had explained it before they left; if she called them, it could cause one of their phones to go off at the worst possible time and get them killed.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there - telling herself she should stop - before her phone started buzzing across the table.
“Hello?” she breathed into the receiver, feeling her stomach flutter a little at his number on the screen.
“I’m alive.”
The line went dead and she flipped her phone shut, trying not to panic.
He was alive, and that was the good part.
She just didn’t want to know what had gone wrong, because he always stayed on the line and talked to her for an hour. He’d never just hung up before.
He’d never sounded that defeated before.
…
Seth made a face and dropped the shot glass back on the table.
“God,” he groaned. “That was horrible.”
Ryan snorted and Dean and Sam laughed, too.
Dean grinned. “This is a celebration, wuss. Drink up!”
“Dean,” Sam said, smiling and shaking his head. “He doesn’t have to drink.”
“C’mon, Sammy, they just killed their white whale, they need to celebrate.” Dean handed him another shot of whiskey and Seth made another face before downing it.
Ryan rolled his eyes and finished his off without flinching.
“So, how’s it feel?” Sam asked, leaning forward a little.
“Weird,” Seth said. “Like… it seems like the thing was almost too easy to kill. We chased it for two years and we killed it in less than twenty minutes.”
“Hey, ‘too easy’ is a good thing,” Dean said, pointing his shot glass at them. “Ours was planning a friggen’ demon war with Sammy here as the leader. Be glad yours was just a clean kill.”
“Yeah I guess,” Ryan shrugged.
“What’s up?” Sam asked.
“It’s just like… should I feel more accomplished?” Ryan asked, staring down at his shot glass.
“No,” Dean said, smile fading. “Killing the thing that killed your parents doesn’t bring them back.”
“But it’s closure,” Sam said. “Now you guys can move on with your lives.”
“Yeah,” Dean said, smiling again. “So what are you gonna do? Find a pretty girl and settle down?”
Seth looked over at him.
What were they supposed to do now?
…
“I think I liked it better last night when I was drunk,” Seth said into his pillow.
Ryan didn’t answer as he went into the bathroom to put his head under the faucet and run cold water over it.
He felt like shit, and not just because of the hangover.
Three nights ago, they’d killed the thing that killed Sandy and Kirsten.
Three nights ago, he’d beaten the shit out of it and then stepped aside and let Seth chop its head off.
Three nights ago, he’d watched Seth stand over the dead thing, body shaking as he cried.
Seth had called Summer to let them know they were alive and then they’d gone to the only open liquor store in the city and gone back to the motel and drank until they passed out.
The second night, they’d gotten in the Rover and headed north to the roadhouse and spent the night getting drunk with the Winchesters.
Sam had ended up dragging Seth back to the motel and he’d stayed in the bar with Dean.
It was weird; they both communicated with grunts and short sentences, but somehow, talking to Dean had made him feel less lost.
What the hell was he supposed to do with his life now?
If Seth went to Rhode Island to be with Summer, he couldn’t tag along.
He wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t be that guy; always following his brother around. He’d told Dean that maybe he’d continue hunting, since he seemed to be good at it.
Dean had punched him in the face and told him to stop being a whiny bitch.
For some reason, Dean seemed hell bent on not letting him be a hunter.
But what was he supposed to do? Go to college? He didn’t want to hunt; he was sick of it. He was tired of always having bruises and living in motel rooms and moving from state to state.
He hated waking up alone.
He’d been in a constant state of motion for his entire life; always moving, always worrying about where he’d sleep next, always wondering if the people he loved were going to throw him out. He was sick of it and all he wanted to do was to find a place to call home; settle down, be normal. He didn’t want to hunt and he didn’t want to travel and he didn’t want excitement.
He didn’t want to fight anymore.
“Ryan, man, my head feels like evil midgets are pricking me with pins,” Seth called from the main room.
“You have weird hangovers,” he called back, shaking excess water from his hair.
“Are we going out with Sam and Dean again tonight?” Seth asked, finally getting out of bed. “Cause I don’t know if I can handle another morning of this.”
“Don’t worry, they’re off to Maryland. Some ghost or something.”
“Oh,” Seth said, leaning against the door frame. “So what are we doing?”
Ryan looked at his brother and knew the question meant more than just what are we doing tonight?
“We’re going to Rhode Island.”
…
“You jackass,” Summer seethed, hitting Seth’s arm for what seemed like the millionth time. “When I said ‘call me every night so I know you’re not dead’, I didn’t mean ‘call me every night and make me worry that you’re going suicidal’.”
“Sorry,” Seth whined, rubbing his arm.
“We’ve been dealing,” Ryan cut in, making Summer freeze halfway through her million-and-first hit.
“Dealing with what?” she huffed, frowning.
“We got it,” Seth said, stiffening. “The thing that killed my parents.”
“Oh,” Summer breathed, arm falling to her side. “Oh.”
…
He was that guy.
Seth and Summer wouldn’t let him leave.
Seth claimed he needed protection from Summer, but Summer said that Seth needed all the family he had to stay with him.
So he stayed.
Brown was beautiful at Christmas.
Mr. Roberts had flown out from Seattle and Summer was out with him, shopping and making sure her father knew she loved him.
Seth had reapplied to RISD for the spring semester and he’d gotten in.
Apparently, the board had liked his drawings of monsters and demons. They thought he was creative; they thought he’d made the monsters up.
Ryan wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, although Seth had made him apply to Providence College.
He’d gotten in, but all this… it made him wonder if college was really for him.
Something in the universe kept pushing it back; maybe someone was trying to tell him something.
Marissa, the Cohens. People kept dying to keep him out of college and he really didn’t think he could handle losing Seth or Summer right now.
…
“So,” she said when he opened the door. “I had to sit through the entire car ride from the airport with Seth hinting that I should transfer to Brown.”
“Hey Taylor,” he said, moving aside so she could come in. “I guess I should be surprised you’re here, but I’m not.”
“I’m predictable, I know,” she said, setting her luggage down. “And so are Seth and Summer. They didn’t tell you I was coming and they totally dropped me off here and then ditched me.”
“I assume they want us to talk,” Ryan said, trying to figure out whether he wanted to roll his eyes or smile. Or both.
“You got into Providence,” she said and he wasn’t surprised she knew that, too. “So you’re staying in Rhode Island.”
“Until we’re done school, I guess,” he said, blinking in slight confusion when he realized he’d said we.
Until we’re done school.
He wasn’t really sure when he’d decided he was going to college.
“That’s good,” she said, smiling up at him. “I didn’t get to congratulate you, for killing… it.”
Ryan shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked, raising her eyebrow like she knew he’d been conflicted since it happened.
“Look,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a second, “I haven’t had sex in a couple months, can we talk after?”
…
“Merry Christmas,” Summer said as she sat on the floor in front of the only tree that would fit in her apartment. Seth walked around the presents piled under it, examining the decorations on the tree.
“I will drink to that,” Anna said, raising her glass.
“Champagne makes my nose itch,” Taylor said, frowning down at her glass.
“Then don’t drink it,” Ryan suggested, but she drank it anyway.
“Summer, honey, I know you love Jesus, but would it kill you to have a Star of David on your tree?” Seth asked, glaring at her tree. “Just one. You can even put it on the back, where no one will see it.”
“I’ll get one next year,” she said and he smiled.
“Next year,” he repeated, sitting on the floor next to her. “I kinda like the sound of that.”
Summer smiled back at him and across the room, Ryan smiled too, like he agreed.
Rating: R
A/N: This is pretty much the last part. I may do an epilogue at some point, but this is the end. And before anyone says anything about the ending seeming rushed, that's because it is. This story was never about the demons and monsters, it was about Seth and Ryan being depressing and that's pretty much over, so this story is too.
A/N 2: follow the tag for previous parts
Stillwater Newspress
October 28, 2008
Gruesome murder leaves police baffled
By Jacob E. Hargrove
Stillwater - Sheila Heines, a recent graduate of Stillwater High School, was found murdered in her home on Friday afternoon. The nineteen year old was three months pregnant with her second child and was working on her degree from the Meridian Technology Center. “She had a lot to live for,” says boyfriend Josh Morell.
The death of Heines is the most recent in a string of similar murders across the United States, dating back as early as 1998…
“Seth, seriously, why am I reading this?” Ryan said, letting the newspaper fall limply in half. “A girl got killed, it’s nothing new.”
“No, keep reading,” Seth said, pointing toward the middle of the article.
…reports of the fetuses being ripped out and no forensic evidence are common themes in these murders. In Hatfield, Pennsylvania; Clayton, Alabama; Jacksboro, Tennessee; Newport Beach, California; Oakdale, Minnesota…
“See?” Seth asked, dropping onto his motel bed.
“Look, just because some Oklahoma reporter links them together, doesn’t mean they are,” Ryan said, even though his stomach felt cold.
…
They’d been doing this for almost two years; crime scenes shouldn’t make him want to throw up.
But he couldn’t help flashing back to when his house - the house he’d grown up in - had been covered in yellow tape and flashing lights and men with forensics kits, looking for evidence.
There hadn’t been any, he could’ve told them that. Not that they would have listened.
Seth went first, ducking under the tape while Ryan made sure there wasn’t anyone around to see them.
When he was thirteen, he’d read The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay for the first time and he’d become obsessed with learning how to pick locks. Joe Kavalier did it; he wanted to, too.
Who knew it would come in handy one day?
“You almost done?” Ryan asked just as Seth felt the tumbler roll into place.
“Done,” he said, pushing the door open.
“Looks like the crime scene cleanup hasn’t come through,” Ryan observed, nodding towards the living room and the blood pooled on the carpet.
“The police said they didn’t find any fingerprints, footprints, or any sign of forced entry,” Seth said back. “Just the girl with her throat slashed and her stomach ripped open.”
“Sounds familiar,” Ryan said and watched Seth flinch.
…
It wasn’t until they’d finished inside and gone out into the yard that they found what they’d been looking for.
Ten gouges in the dirt, spaced like footprints. The police would’ve overlooked them.
“There,” Seth said, pointing. “You think it’s a lamashtu?”
“If what we read is right,” Ryan said, shrugging. “They’ve got clawed feet, so it makes sense.”
“And long fingernails, right?” Seth said. “Which is why they can’t figure out what was used to cut open the victims. It’s not tool marks, it’s nail marks.”
“Good. You got the amulets?” Ryan asked, voice sounding tight.
“I got ‘em.”
…
It was so easy.
Once they knew what it was; once they knew where it had last killed, it was easy to find.
She was hiding in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the city; it smelled like blood and feces and Ryan watched Seth gag when they went inside.
“Hunters,” she said, her red eyes flashing in the glare from the lights outside. “What did I do to piss you guys off?”
“Besides killing people and generally being disgusting?” Seth asked, but his tone lacked sarcasm. He just sounded scared.
She laughed and wagged one long finger at them, the nail still coated in dried blood.
“You smell familiar,” she said, tilting her head. “Did I kill your wife?”
“Mother,” Seth said, standing straighter. “And father. And sibling.”
“Well, I bet it was delicious,” she said, like it was a compliment; the dried blood on her lips cracking as she smiled.
“Seth,” Ryan warned when he took a step forward.
Seth wasn’t a fighter.
He’d gotten better and he could hold his own, but a full on attack?
Ryan had come too far to let Seth die now.
“You don’t smell familiar,” she said, turning to look at him.
“Can you just kill the bitch?” Seth asked, hand readjusting on his sword.
Ryan nodded as the lamashtu smiled.
…
Summer frowned down at her phone.
Seth hadn’t called yet, and it was almost one in the morning.
She knew she shouldn’t really worry, because sometimes their hunts went long, but the last time they’d talked, Seth told her that they were close.
She should stop worrying; she should turn off the light and lie down and try to sleep until her cell phone woke her up.
The worst part was, she couldn’t even call him.
Ryan had explained it before they left; if she called them, it could cause one of their phones to go off at the worst possible time and get them killed.
She wasn’t sure how long she sat there - telling herself she should stop - before her phone started buzzing across the table.
“Hello?” she breathed into the receiver, feeling her stomach flutter a little at his number on the screen.
“I’m alive.”
The line went dead and she flipped her phone shut, trying not to panic.
He was alive, and that was the good part.
She just didn’t want to know what had gone wrong, because he always stayed on the line and talked to her for an hour. He’d never just hung up before.
He’d never sounded that defeated before.
…
Seth made a face and dropped the shot glass back on the table.
“God,” he groaned. “That was horrible.”
Ryan snorted and Dean and Sam laughed, too.
Dean grinned. “This is a celebration, wuss. Drink up!”
“Dean,” Sam said, smiling and shaking his head. “He doesn’t have to drink.”
“C’mon, Sammy, they just killed their white whale, they need to celebrate.” Dean handed him another shot of whiskey and Seth made another face before downing it.
Ryan rolled his eyes and finished his off without flinching.
“So, how’s it feel?” Sam asked, leaning forward a little.
“Weird,” Seth said. “Like… it seems like the thing was almost too easy to kill. We chased it for two years and we killed it in less than twenty minutes.”
“Hey, ‘too easy’ is a good thing,” Dean said, pointing his shot glass at them. “Ours was planning a friggen’ demon war with Sammy here as the leader. Be glad yours was just a clean kill.”
“Yeah I guess,” Ryan shrugged.
“What’s up?” Sam asked.
“It’s just like… should I feel more accomplished?” Ryan asked, staring down at his shot glass.
“No,” Dean said, smile fading. “Killing the thing that killed your parents doesn’t bring them back.”
“But it’s closure,” Sam said. “Now you guys can move on with your lives.”
“Yeah,” Dean said, smiling again. “So what are you gonna do? Find a pretty girl and settle down?”
Seth looked over at him.
What were they supposed to do now?
…
“I think I liked it better last night when I was drunk,” Seth said into his pillow.
Ryan didn’t answer as he went into the bathroom to put his head under the faucet and run cold water over it.
He felt like shit, and not just because of the hangover.
Three nights ago, they’d killed the thing that killed Sandy and Kirsten.
Three nights ago, he’d beaten the shit out of it and then stepped aside and let Seth chop its head off.
Three nights ago, he’d watched Seth stand over the dead thing, body shaking as he cried.
Seth had called Summer to let them know they were alive and then they’d gone to the only open liquor store in the city and gone back to the motel and drank until they passed out.
The second night, they’d gotten in the Rover and headed north to the roadhouse and spent the night getting drunk with the Winchesters.
Sam had ended up dragging Seth back to the motel and he’d stayed in the bar with Dean.
It was weird; they both communicated with grunts and short sentences, but somehow, talking to Dean had made him feel less lost.
What the hell was he supposed to do with his life now?
If Seth went to Rhode Island to be with Summer, he couldn’t tag along.
He wouldn’t.
He wouldn’t be that guy; always following his brother around. He’d told Dean that maybe he’d continue hunting, since he seemed to be good at it.
Dean had punched him in the face and told him to stop being a whiny bitch.
For some reason, Dean seemed hell bent on not letting him be a hunter.
But what was he supposed to do? Go to college? He didn’t want to hunt; he was sick of it. He was tired of always having bruises and living in motel rooms and moving from state to state.
He hated waking up alone.
He’d been in a constant state of motion for his entire life; always moving, always worrying about where he’d sleep next, always wondering if the people he loved were going to throw him out. He was sick of it and all he wanted to do was to find a place to call home; settle down, be normal. He didn’t want to hunt and he didn’t want to travel and he didn’t want excitement.
He didn’t want to fight anymore.
“Ryan, man, my head feels like evil midgets are pricking me with pins,” Seth called from the main room.
“You have weird hangovers,” he called back, shaking excess water from his hair.
“Are we going out with Sam and Dean again tonight?” Seth asked, finally getting out of bed. “Cause I don’t know if I can handle another morning of this.”
“Don’t worry, they’re off to Maryland. Some ghost or something.”
“Oh,” Seth said, leaning against the door frame. “So what are we doing?”
Ryan looked at his brother and knew the question meant more than just what are we doing tonight?
“We’re going to Rhode Island.”
…
“You jackass,” Summer seethed, hitting Seth’s arm for what seemed like the millionth time. “When I said ‘call me every night so I know you’re not dead’, I didn’t mean ‘call me every night and make me worry that you’re going suicidal’.”
“Sorry,” Seth whined, rubbing his arm.
“We’ve been dealing,” Ryan cut in, making Summer freeze halfway through her million-and-first hit.
“Dealing with what?” she huffed, frowning.
“We got it,” Seth said, stiffening. “The thing that killed my parents.”
“Oh,” Summer breathed, arm falling to her side. “Oh.”
…
He was that guy.
Seth and Summer wouldn’t let him leave.
Seth claimed he needed protection from Summer, but Summer said that Seth needed all the family he had to stay with him.
So he stayed.
Brown was beautiful at Christmas.
Mr. Roberts had flown out from Seattle and Summer was out with him, shopping and making sure her father knew she loved him.
Seth had reapplied to RISD for the spring semester and he’d gotten in.
Apparently, the board had liked his drawings of monsters and demons. They thought he was creative; they thought he’d made the monsters up.
Ryan wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, although Seth had made him apply to Providence College.
He’d gotten in, but all this… it made him wonder if college was really for him.
Something in the universe kept pushing it back; maybe someone was trying to tell him something.
Marissa, the Cohens. People kept dying to keep him out of college and he really didn’t think he could handle losing Seth or Summer right now.
…
“So,” she said when he opened the door. “I had to sit through the entire car ride from the airport with Seth hinting that I should transfer to Brown.”
“Hey Taylor,” he said, moving aside so she could come in. “I guess I should be surprised you’re here, but I’m not.”
“I’m predictable, I know,” she said, setting her luggage down. “And so are Seth and Summer. They didn’t tell you I was coming and they totally dropped me off here and then ditched me.”
“I assume they want us to talk,” Ryan said, trying to figure out whether he wanted to roll his eyes or smile. Or both.
“You got into Providence,” she said and he wasn’t surprised she knew that, too. “So you’re staying in Rhode Island.”
“Until we’re done school, I guess,” he said, blinking in slight confusion when he realized he’d said we.
Until we’re done school.
He wasn’t really sure when he’d decided he was going to college.
“That’s good,” she said, smiling up at him. “I didn’t get to congratulate you, for killing… it.”
Ryan shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Want to talk about it?” she asked, raising her eyebrow like she knew he’d been conflicted since it happened.
“Look,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a second, “I haven’t had sex in a couple months, can we talk after?”
…
“Merry Christmas,” Summer said as she sat on the floor in front of the only tree that would fit in her apartment. Seth walked around the presents piled under it, examining the decorations on the tree.
“I will drink to that,” Anna said, raising her glass.
“Champagne makes my nose itch,” Taylor said, frowning down at her glass.
“Then don’t drink it,” Ryan suggested, but she drank it anyway.
“Summer, honey, I know you love Jesus, but would it kill you to have a Star of David on your tree?” Seth asked, glaring at her tree. “Just one. You can even put it on the back, where no one will see it.”
“I’ll get one next year,” she said and he smiled.
“Next year,” he repeated, sitting on the floor next to her. “I kinda like the sound of that.”
Summer smiled back at him and across the room, Ryan smiled too, like he agreed.