Numb3rs/Supernatural Fic: Alliance, Chapter Five/9
Title: Alliance
Author: ALEO
aleo_70
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don Eppes, Charlie Eppes, Dean Winchester, and cameo by Sam Winchester
Fandoms: Numb3rs/Supernatural - crossover
Rating: PG 13+
Warning: violence, supernatural themes, horror
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs, Supernatural and associated characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Anything you don't recognise comes from my imagination.
Spoilers - Numb3rs: Hot Shot & Thirteen; - Supernatural: nil.
Status: Chapter 5 of 9
Wordcount (this chapter): 2565
Total wordcount: ~21,400
Summary: Investigating a series of occult related murders in Los Angeles FBI Special Agent Eppes has another encounter with Dean Winchester.
CHAPTER FIVE
Don spent the rest of the night at his apartment, wringing as much information out of his fugitive guest as he could before Dean lost his temper and clammed up. By that point Don figured he had probably gained about as good a picture as he was going to get of their quarry. From what he could tell The Hunter had been displaying disturbing character traits for most of his adult life. If he were to completely cast aside his doubts over various parts of Dean’s information he could only conclude that ‘the life’ as Dean called it could hardly have helped with Best’s mental stability. The former hunter, now serial killer, had long since left the reservation.
With their work still cut out for them Don left early after only an hour of sleep, determined to put his new information to good use. By going in early he was able to prepare new tasking sheets guided by the profile he was refining. By the time the 8am briefing rolled around he was able to provide the various department heads and his bosses with a concise report outlining his profile of the killer and some alternative avenues of investigation. Don saw the frowns that were turned his way but ignored them in favour of getting his information across.
“Agent Eppes,” Assistant Director-in-Charge Wright called from the back of the room when the briefing concluded. “A word.”
The wait as the rest of the agents in the room made their way out took too long and at the same time didn’t take long enough. Don knew that whilst his actions may not be sanctioned if the ADIC knew where he was getting his information, he was doing the right thing. The greater good and the lives of innocent LA citizens, potential victims of The Hunter, outweighed the capture of a fugitive who’d been on the run for so many years already.
“Sir?”
“Don’t ‘sir’ me,” Wright snapped. “Where did all this come from?”
“An informant,” Don answered calmly.
“Which one?” Wright demanded. “None of this appears in the register.”
This was a bit of a sticky point. All informants were required to be registered, along with a précis of information received and details of payments or consideration given in return, the system designed to prevent corruption. Don, like all the other agents at the bureau, was required to keep his listed informants and their status up to date. Wright knew that Don had been at work twice since meeting his supposed informant, plenty enough time that something should have been noted in the register.
“I haven’t had a chance to update that, sir,” Don started. “This is a new informant, I thought the time could be better spent-“
“New informant? From what Agent Sinclair said it would seem this was one of your current informants.”
Don felt a brief surge of anger at the news that David had been speaking to Wright about this but he quickly quashed it. David was just doing his job, whether it had been his move to speak to the ADIC about his superior’s sudden odd behaviour or the ADIC had come to him after overviewing the investigation notes. Thinking quickly he came up with an answer. “I used him back in Albuquerque. He moved here a couple of years ago and touched base with me but I never used him for anything.”
“Why not? If he was good enough in Albuquerque, he would be good enough here surely?”
“He’d moved on from his previous life and wasn’t associating in the same circles any more. I never put him on the books.”
“So why now? You think that Best had some relationship with Albuquerque and this long lost informant could come up with something?”
In his report on the serial killer Don had not mentioned the New Mexico city as a previous location in which Best had worked. Wright was struggling to find a viable connection between the alleged informant and the information he’d provided. Don knew that because he was also struggling to come up with some sort of explanation that would suit. Once again he remembered the advice to tell the truth as much as possible to protect the lie.
“He came to me. I don’t know how he got the information he did but it feels solid,” Don said. “We don’t have any other options at this stage but to run it out. From what he’s told me another victim has already been taken and will be dead by tonight if we don’t stop it.”
“I agree we have to run it out. But I want your informant in here this morning for interrogation.”
“But, sir, if I bring him in we’ll lose him, and anything else he might give us,” Don objected.
“I’m giving you an official direction Agent Eppes.” Wright’s voice left no doubt that he was far from happy with Don’s explanation. “That informant, in here, this morning.”
“He’s not going to be easy to find, I should be -“
“I believe I have made myself clear, Eppes,” Wright interrupted.
Don snapped his mouth closed and took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
“And where is that consultant brother of yours? With what we’re paying him I expect to see him around the office at some point.”
Don felt a jolt, he’d been that focused on preparing his profile and setting tasks that he’d not realised Charlie hadn’t arrived at the office as yet. His brother had no classes until the afternoon and had promised him over the phone late yesterday that he’d be here bright and early. “Sometimes he works best from home, sir. I’ll track him down.”
“You do that.” Wright pulled open the door before turning back. “Call me when you bring in your informant.”
“Sir.” Don had no option but to acknowledge the order even if there was no way he could bring Dean into the office. Even if he got around the fact that Dean would resist any such effort, bringing this particular man in would completely derail their investigation. All the information provided by the wanted fugitive Dean Winchester would be immediately suspect and discounted. Dean himself would be put into the frame for the serial murders as fitting his official profile and documented history. The additional fact that Don would come under scrutiny, for harbouring a fugitive at the very least, was no small thing either.
Don found himself sitting heavily as he tried to figure a way out of the mess he’d walked into with both eyes open. As he saw it he had no option but to leave the office as if to search for his informant and not come back, not until they got a solid break. He’d already laid the groundwork that his informant would not be easy to find. Not an ideal situation but nothing about this was ideal.
Gathering up his paperwork he headed back to his cubicle. Across the bullpen he could see Wright speaking with David and he couldn’t help the glare he cast in his subordinate’s direction. He snapped himself out of it, it wasn’t David’s fault, and he’d brought everything upon himself by his own unforced actions. There was nothing left now but to play it out. Once again he snagged his keys and coat and after a final look around the office as if he might never see it again he turned and headed out.
By the time he arrived at the Craftsman house he felt calmer, his course set. Nothing had really changed; he would do what it took to get The Hunter off the streets.
There was no one home. He had gone first to the garage expecting to find Charlie scribbling away furiously at one of his chalkboards but it was empty. Glancing over the figures on the board he saw some odd notations amongst those he was more familiar with. Shrugging that off as he needed his brother to explain what most of it meant anyway, he let himself into the house and found his brother’s bed hadn’t been slept in despite his orders. With a sigh he acknowledged, not for the first time, that his brother was like him in many ways, just as driven to solve a puzzle as he was. Checking the rest of the house he found it empty, just as expected after earlier noting their father’s car gone from the garage.
Chafing at the delay Don headed off to CalSci but the result was the same, the professor had not been in today but late yesterday afternoon had phoned through the cancelation of his posted office hours for the day. Don simply nodded at the receptionist when he started to wonder if he should be alarmed. The cancellation was expected following the professor’s promise to be in the FBI office this morning. Trying Charlie’s cell only led him to his brother’s messagebank. Refusing to allow himself to be concerned at his failure to locate his brother he left a message and headed home, he had an ‘informant’ to protect and a serial killer to catch.
Remembering what had happened the last time he’d walked through his door he hesitated, jingling his keys more than normal to alert Dean that this wasn’t a raid. He pushed the door open slowly then slipped through the narrow gap and closed it quickly behind him. He saw the dark shape off to the side and knew before he turned that Dean was waiting, gun ready.
“I’m alone,” Don said before Dean could speak. Given that the reaction was expected Don barely felt any alarm.
“I’m not,” Dean answered.
Don turned away and his mouth went dry as he saw his younger brother staring at him, perched stiffly on the edge of the couch. Suddenly the threat of the gun aimed at him became all too real and his hands came up.
“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Don demanded.
Charlie’s mouth opened once, closed, and opened again before he could answer the question. Seeing his older brother held at gunpoint made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. “I found a pattern.”
“You-“ Don started then stopped. Whatever it was could wait. He carefully turned and looked at the Winchester. “Let him go.”
“Maybe.”
Not liking the sound of that he was about to speak when he thought of something else. Switching his attention back away from Dean he spoke to Charlie instead. He had to know how his brother had come to be here, and how he’d been treated by Dean; it would make a world of difference to what he would do next. “What happened?”
“I let myself in and he was here.”
“He pulled a gun on you?”
“No. But he wouldn’t let me answer my cell.” He waved his hand at his phone sitting on the coffee table.
Don frowned at that but moved on, “He held you?”
Charlie looked a little sheepish. “I, I hadn’t tried to leave yet.
Don rounded on Dean, anger now replacing his earlier caution. “You would have stopped him leaving?”
Dean faced the angry agent. “Yeah, I think I would.”
“We had a deal, let him go or it’s off.”
“You, I have history with,” Dean argued, “him, I don’t know. I can’t help Sammy if I’m locked up.”
“You want me to help you, you let him go.”
“Don, I -“ Charlie started.
“Not now,” Don interrupted. This time he didn’t break eye contact with Dean. “He won’t call anyone. Let him go.”
“I’m not so sure that he wants to go,” Dean stated. He stepped back after a moment, his infuriatingly cocky grin touching his face as he tucked his Colt back into his belt. “But if he does and he calls your fed buddies, I still got you. We’re sticking together from now on.”
Despite the words Don noted that the cocky grin had already faded and Dean’s body language and tone carried not so much any threat against the agent as confidence in his decision and that the agent would do as he said. Whether or not there was any threat against him didn’t really matter, he wanted Charlie out of there and he wanted him to keep what he’d witnessed to himself. For now.
“Charlie,” Don called, jerking his head sideways.
“What’s going on here?” Charlie demanded as he and Don moved towards the kitchen to gain some bare amount of privacy. “After last time I thought-“
“It doesn’t matter,” Don interrupted. His brother didn’t know about the brief visit the Winchesters had paid him on the following full moon after the encounter in the graveyard on Halloween. “Why are you here?”
“I told you, I found a pattern.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I haven’t seen you alone in days so I figured I’d swing by on the way to the office. When I saw the lights on, I came in.” Charlie glanced back at the man sitting on the couch. He knew who the man was, what the files said he and his brother were capable of. He also knew what he’d seen himself and the fact that they’d not hurt his older brother despite several opportunities to do so. It was clear to him there were things Don hadn’t spoken of but if the crazy tales he had told were to be believed the fugitive Winchesters had saved his life. “I found him here.”
“Yeah, buddy.” Don sighed, running his hand down his face. This was all going to hell. “He said he could help with the case. His brother Sam is the next victim.”
After another glance at Dean Charlie turned back to his brother. “That’s actually why I wanted to find you here rather than at the office.” Charlie hesitated then continued. “I was going to suggest you try to call them. I know they took your cell and I remember the files saying they normally kept phones. I thought they might be able to help with the pattern I’ve found.”
“So what is this pattern?”
“Comparing the timings of the killings, the manner of their deaths and the types of victims selected I believe I have found a progression.” Another look around behind him and Charlie saw Dean stand and focus his attention on the brothers. He sensed rather than saw Don tense as his older brother shifted slightly. “It’s coming to a head, I think this victim, Sam, will be the last.”
“What will happen?” Dean demanded sharply.
“I, I don’t know. I still don’t understand the occult references found at the crime scenes and I thought you might be able to...”
“I don’t know. Sammy, he’s better at the detail stuff. We were able to figure it’s a very powerful summoning spell but I don’t know how complete it is or what he’s trying to bring through.” Dean explained. “What we do know is the spell breaks a number of seals which means something really bad could break loose if Best gets it done.”
Charlie shared a glance with Don, clearly not understanding exactly what the Winchester was on about. Don had already heard some of this before but it didn’t mean he understood it any better. What was clear however was the complete belief in Dean’s voice.
“So, you said you got research,” Dean continued. “Let’s look at this research.”
Next chapter ... here
Author: ALEO
aleo_70
Genre: Gen
Characters: Don Eppes, Charlie Eppes, Dean Winchester, and cameo by Sam Winchester
Fandoms: Numb3rs/Supernatural - crossover
Rating: PG 13+
Warning: violence, supernatural themes, horror
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just borrowed them. Numb3rs, Supernatural and associated characters are the property of those that created them. No copyright infringement intended. No financial reward gained. All real places and organisations are used in a fictional sense. Anything you don't recognise comes from my imagination.
Spoilers - Numb3rs: Hot Shot & Thirteen; - Supernatural: nil.
Status: Chapter 5 of 9
Wordcount (this chapter): 2565
Total wordcount: ~21,400
Summary: Investigating a series of occult related murders in Los Angeles FBI Special Agent Eppes has another encounter with Dean Winchester.
CHAPTER FIVE
Don spent the rest of the night at his apartment, wringing as much information out of his fugitive guest as he could before Dean lost his temper and clammed up. By that point Don figured he had probably gained about as good a picture as he was going to get of their quarry. From what he could tell The Hunter had been displaying disturbing character traits for most of his adult life. If he were to completely cast aside his doubts over various parts of Dean’s information he could only conclude that ‘the life’ as Dean called it could hardly have helped with Best’s mental stability. The former hunter, now serial killer, had long since left the reservation.
With their work still cut out for them Don left early after only an hour of sleep, determined to put his new information to good use. By going in early he was able to prepare new tasking sheets guided by the profile he was refining. By the time the 8am briefing rolled around he was able to provide the various department heads and his bosses with a concise report outlining his profile of the killer and some alternative avenues of investigation. Don saw the frowns that were turned his way but ignored them in favour of getting his information across.
“Agent Eppes,” Assistant Director-in-Charge Wright called from the back of the room when the briefing concluded. “A word.”
The wait as the rest of the agents in the room made their way out took too long and at the same time didn’t take long enough. Don knew that whilst his actions may not be sanctioned if the ADIC knew where he was getting his information, he was doing the right thing. The greater good and the lives of innocent LA citizens, potential victims of The Hunter, outweighed the capture of a fugitive who’d been on the run for so many years already.
“Sir?”
“Don’t ‘sir’ me,” Wright snapped. “Where did all this come from?”
“An informant,” Don answered calmly.
“Which one?” Wright demanded. “None of this appears in the register.”
This was a bit of a sticky point. All informants were required to be registered, along with a précis of information received and details of payments or consideration given in return, the system designed to prevent corruption. Don, like all the other agents at the bureau, was required to keep his listed informants and their status up to date. Wright knew that Don had been at work twice since meeting his supposed informant, plenty enough time that something should have been noted in the register.
“I haven’t had a chance to update that, sir,” Don started. “This is a new informant, I thought the time could be better spent-“
“New informant? From what Agent Sinclair said it would seem this was one of your current informants.”
Don felt a brief surge of anger at the news that David had been speaking to Wright about this but he quickly quashed it. David was just doing his job, whether it had been his move to speak to the ADIC about his superior’s sudden odd behaviour or the ADIC had come to him after overviewing the investigation notes. Thinking quickly he came up with an answer. “I used him back in Albuquerque. He moved here a couple of years ago and touched base with me but I never used him for anything.”
“Why not? If he was good enough in Albuquerque, he would be good enough here surely?”
“He’d moved on from his previous life and wasn’t associating in the same circles any more. I never put him on the books.”
“So why now? You think that Best had some relationship with Albuquerque and this long lost informant could come up with something?”
In his report on the serial killer Don had not mentioned the New Mexico city as a previous location in which Best had worked. Wright was struggling to find a viable connection between the alleged informant and the information he’d provided. Don knew that because he was also struggling to come up with some sort of explanation that would suit. Once again he remembered the advice to tell the truth as much as possible to protect the lie.
“He came to me. I don’t know how he got the information he did but it feels solid,” Don said. “We don’t have any other options at this stage but to run it out. From what he’s told me another victim has already been taken and will be dead by tonight if we don’t stop it.”
“I agree we have to run it out. But I want your informant in here this morning for interrogation.”
“But, sir, if I bring him in we’ll lose him, and anything else he might give us,” Don objected.
“I’m giving you an official direction Agent Eppes.” Wright’s voice left no doubt that he was far from happy with Don’s explanation. “That informant, in here, this morning.”
“He’s not going to be easy to find, I should be -“
“I believe I have made myself clear, Eppes,” Wright interrupted.
Don snapped his mouth closed and took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
“And where is that consultant brother of yours? With what we’re paying him I expect to see him around the office at some point.”
Don felt a jolt, he’d been that focused on preparing his profile and setting tasks that he’d not realised Charlie hadn’t arrived at the office as yet. His brother had no classes until the afternoon and had promised him over the phone late yesterday that he’d be here bright and early. “Sometimes he works best from home, sir. I’ll track him down.”
“You do that.” Wright pulled open the door before turning back. “Call me when you bring in your informant.”
“Sir.” Don had no option but to acknowledge the order even if there was no way he could bring Dean into the office. Even if he got around the fact that Dean would resist any such effort, bringing this particular man in would completely derail their investigation. All the information provided by the wanted fugitive Dean Winchester would be immediately suspect and discounted. Dean himself would be put into the frame for the serial murders as fitting his official profile and documented history. The additional fact that Don would come under scrutiny, for harbouring a fugitive at the very least, was no small thing either.
Don found himself sitting heavily as he tried to figure a way out of the mess he’d walked into with both eyes open. As he saw it he had no option but to leave the office as if to search for his informant and not come back, not until they got a solid break. He’d already laid the groundwork that his informant would not be easy to find. Not an ideal situation but nothing about this was ideal.
Gathering up his paperwork he headed back to his cubicle. Across the bullpen he could see Wright speaking with David and he couldn’t help the glare he cast in his subordinate’s direction. He snapped himself out of it, it wasn’t David’s fault, and he’d brought everything upon himself by his own unforced actions. There was nothing left now but to play it out. Once again he snagged his keys and coat and after a final look around the office as if he might never see it again he turned and headed out.
By the time he arrived at the Craftsman house he felt calmer, his course set. Nothing had really changed; he would do what it took to get The Hunter off the streets.
There was no one home. He had gone first to the garage expecting to find Charlie scribbling away furiously at one of his chalkboards but it was empty. Glancing over the figures on the board he saw some odd notations amongst those he was more familiar with. Shrugging that off as he needed his brother to explain what most of it meant anyway, he let himself into the house and found his brother’s bed hadn’t been slept in despite his orders. With a sigh he acknowledged, not for the first time, that his brother was like him in many ways, just as driven to solve a puzzle as he was. Checking the rest of the house he found it empty, just as expected after earlier noting their father’s car gone from the garage.
Chafing at the delay Don headed off to CalSci but the result was the same, the professor had not been in today but late yesterday afternoon had phoned through the cancelation of his posted office hours for the day. Don simply nodded at the receptionist when he started to wonder if he should be alarmed. The cancellation was expected following the professor’s promise to be in the FBI office this morning. Trying Charlie’s cell only led him to his brother’s messagebank. Refusing to allow himself to be concerned at his failure to locate his brother he left a message and headed home, he had an ‘informant’ to protect and a serial killer to catch.
Remembering what had happened the last time he’d walked through his door he hesitated, jingling his keys more than normal to alert Dean that this wasn’t a raid. He pushed the door open slowly then slipped through the narrow gap and closed it quickly behind him. He saw the dark shape off to the side and knew before he turned that Dean was waiting, gun ready.
“I’m alone,” Don said before Dean could speak. Given that the reaction was expected Don barely felt any alarm.
“I’m not,” Dean answered.
Don turned away and his mouth went dry as he saw his younger brother staring at him, perched stiffly on the edge of the couch. Suddenly the threat of the gun aimed at him became all too real and his hands came up.
“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Don demanded.
Charlie’s mouth opened once, closed, and opened again before he could answer the question. Seeing his older brother held at gunpoint made it difficult to concentrate on anything else. “I found a pattern.”
“You-“ Don started then stopped. Whatever it was could wait. He carefully turned and looked at the Winchester. “Let him go.”
“Maybe.”
Not liking the sound of that he was about to speak when he thought of something else. Switching his attention back away from Dean he spoke to Charlie instead. He had to know how his brother had come to be here, and how he’d been treated by Dean; it would make a world of difference to what he would do next. “What happened?”
“I let myself in and he was here.”
“He pulled a gun on you?”
“No. But he wouldn’t let me answer my cell.” He waved his hand at his phone sitting on the coffee table.
Don frowned at that but moved on, “He held you?”
Charlie looked a little sheepish. “I, I hadn’t tried to leave yet.
Don rounded on Dean, anger now replacing his earlier caution. “You would have stopped him leaving?”
Dean faced the angry agent. “Yeah, I think I would.”
“We had a deal, let him go or it’s off.”
“You, I have history with,” Dean argued, “him, I don’t know. I can’t help Sammy if I’m locked up.”
“You want me to help you, you let him go.”
“Don, I -“ Charlie started.
“Not now,” Don interrupted. This time he didn’t break eye contact with Dean. “He won’t call anyone. Let him go.”
“I’m not so sure that he wants to go,” Dean stated. He stepped back after a moment, his infuriatingly cocky grin touching his face as he tucked his Colt back into his belt. “But if he does and he calls your fed buddies, I still got you. We’re sticking together from now on.”
Despite the words Don noted that the cocky grin had already faded and Dean’s body language and tone carried not so much any threat against the agent as confidence in his decision and that the agent would do as he said. Whether or not there was any threat against him didn’t really matter, he wanted Charlie out of there and he wanted him to keep what he’d witnessed to himself. For now.
“Charlie,” Don called, jerking his head sideways.
“What’s going on here?” Charlie demanded as he and Don moved towards the kitchen to gain some bare amount of privacy. “After last time I thought-“
“It doesn’t matter,” Don interrupted. His brother didn’t know about the brief visit the Winchesters had paid him on the following full moon after the encounter in the graveyard on Halloween. “Why are you here?”
“I told you, I found a pattern.”
“Why didn’t you call?”
“I haven’t seen you alone in days so I figured I’d swing by on the way to the office. When I saw the lights on, I came in.” Charlie glanced back at the man sitting on the couch. He knew who the man was, what the files said he and his brother were capable of. He also knew what he’d seen himself and the fact that they’d not hurt his older brother despite several opportunities to do so. It was clear to him there were things Don hadn’t spoken of but if the crazy tales he had told were to be believed the fugitive Winchesters had saved his life. “I found him here.”
“Yeah, buddy.” Don sighed, running his hand down his face. This was all going to hell. “He said he could help with the case. His brother Sam is the next victim.”
After another glance at Dean Charlie turned back to his brother. “That’s actually why I wanted to find you here rather than at the office.” Charlie hesitated then continued. “I was going to suggest you try to call them. I know they took your cell and I remember the files saying they normally kept phones. I thought they might be able to help with the pattern I’ve found.”
“So what is this pattern?”
“Comparing the timings of the killings, the manner of their deaths and the types of victims selected I believe I have found a progression.” Another look around behind him and Charlie saw Dean stand and focus his attention on the brothers. He sensed rather than saw Don tense as his older brother shifted slightly. “It’s coming to a head, I think this victim, Sam, will be the last.”
“What will happen?” Dean demanded sharply.
“I, I don’t know. I still don’t understand the occult references found at the crime scenes and I thought you might be able to...”
“I don’t know. Sammy, he’s better at the detail stuff. We were able to figure it’s a very powerful summoning spell but I don’t know how complete it is or what he’s trying to bring through.” Dean explained. “What we do know is the spell breaks a number of seals which means something really bad could break loose if Best gets it done.”
Charlie shared a glance with Don, clearly not understanding exactly what the Winchester was on about. Don had already heard some of this before but it didn’t mean he understood it any better. What was clear however was the complete belief in Dean’s voice.
“So, you said you got research,” Dean continued. “Let’s look at this research.”
Next chapter ... here