Six And One Part 1/5
Tricksters target the high and mighty, the proud, the arrogant. They aim to knock their target down a peg or two, mostly with a sense of humour, though they don’t seem to mind if their target dies in the process. As long as it provides amusement for the Trickster, anything goes - although they tend to keep collateral damage to a minimum if at all possible. With their ability to create almost anything out of nothing, any trick or prank is available to the creative demi-gods.
-Sixteen - Deception-
Dean glared up at the ceiling above him, intent on showing his displeasure with his current situation. His dad was off on a hunt, and Dean had managed to get sick enough to be admitted to the hospital four days ago. Thankfully the woman watching out for him and Sammy at the moment had lied and claimed them as her nephews, so at least CPS wasn’t getting involved. John was going to be mad enough as it was.
Shifting a little, Dean’s gaze fell on Sammy, curled up asleep in a chair next to the bed. He’d tried to tell the kid to share the bed with him - it wasn’t like they hadn’t done so before - but the problem was in Dean’s stomach, and now the softest touch felt like a gunshot. So Sam had made up his mind, staying near enough to ease Dean’s big-brother-instincts while not causing him pain.
Unbeknownst to Sam, however, Dean wanted his little brother as far away from the hospital as possible. There was something wrong here, something that put Dean’s teeth on edge. He wasn’t sure if it was something supernatural, or if his medication was making him paranoid, but he both wanted Sam out of there and wanted to keep an eye on him.
The shadows around his bed seemed to be getting darker, and Dean bit down on his lip to keep from making any sound. He could feel someone there, someone standing on the other side of the curtain, and he just wanted them to go away.
Then he heard the blessed sound of whistling, and he felt the presence leave. The curtain was gently moved aside soon after, and a grinning face peeked in at him.
“Hey Deano,” the nurse pretended to scold him. “You’re meant to be asleep.”
“Hey Ricky,” Dean grinned back. “Come to get your ass kicked at poker again?”
“You wish.” Ricky slipped inside and sat on the edge of the bed. He wasn’t that much taller than Dean was, and looked somewhere in his mid-thirties, with light brown hair and a cheerful face. He also always had sugar of some sort, frequently sharing with either Sam or Dean, and he was willing to play poker when Dean couldn’t get to sleep in the strange hospital. “Any news yet?”
“Doc said they’ll take me in tomorrow,” Dean answered quietly, shooting a look over at Sam. He hadn’t actually told his brother yet - hopefully the kid would be at school when they came, and it’d be over by the time he got back. “So I haven’t been able to eat tonight.”
“That sucks,” Ricky commiserated with him. “How ‘bout I stop by tomorrow then, make sure there’s a stack of sugar waiting for your return?”
“You’re awesome,” Dean informed his visitor.
“I know I am,” Ricky nodded, before jumping off the bed again. “Well, for now I’ll up your meds, help you get some sleep. And I’ll arrange for the sweets when you get back.” He fiddled with Dean’s drip, and within minutes Dean was drifting off to sleep, content that someone was watching out for him.
-Twenty Four - Dead Ringer For Love-
Dean sat at the bar, steadily drinking his way to unconsciousness. He’d just finished one of his first solo hunts, with Sammy off being a big boy at college and Dad following his own lead, and it hadn’t gone well. Sure he’d gotten rid of the ghost, but it had killed another teen before he’d managed it.
So now Dean was trying to become numb.
“Hard day?” A voice broke into his melancholy, and Dean lifted his head. Standing next to his stool was a man with light hair and dark eyes, shorter than Dean but seeming older. Dean had the feeling that he’d seen the guy before, probably when he was bumming around town hunting for leads.
“You could say that,” Dean shrugged. Maybe shooting the breeze would distract him for a bit.
“I know of a way to make your day better,” the guy grinned. Dean raised an eyebrow, and the stranger held out a brightly-coloured straw.
“What is it?” He gingerly took it, and found that it was sealed in plastic.
“Sherbet straw,” the stranger hopped up onto the seat next to Dean and pulled out another straw before signalling the bartender. “Two Rocketfuels, please.”
“Rocketfuel. Not sure I wanna know,” Dean gave the man a sceptical look, which was immediately grinned away by the stranger.
“Take every clear liquor and pour a shot into a glass,” he explained. “My addition is to then drink it through the sherbet straw. Gets you shit-faced in no time flat.”
“You know what?” Dean decided. “That sounds perfect.”
“I know,” the guy held out his hand again. “By the way, I’m Steve.”
“Dean.”
-Twenty Seven - Hunting High and Low-
“The King’s Lair Hotel,” Sam commented as they looked around the room they’d been given. “More like a dragon’s lair. Dean, this place…”
“Ah, shut it, Sammy,” Dean ignored his brother with practiced ease. “It’s cheap, it has a kitchen-thing, and it’s near the scene of the weirdo crime. We’re staying.”
The tension between the brothers had been climbing lately, both figuring it was just too much time spent in close quarters. Dean had the vague idea that there was something else as well, something niggling at the back of his skull, but he pushed it away firmly. Denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt, it was the Winchester family’s favourite past-time.
He couldn’t deny that something about this town was setting him off though, something just wasn’t right. And when they met the janitor over at Crawford Hall, trying to investigate the professor’s office… Dean’s instincts were going haywire.
“So how long you been working here?” Sam asked, completely oblivious to Dean’s mind trying to figure out where he’d seen the guy before.
“I’ve been mopping these floors for six years,” the guy responded easily. “Worked over at the hospital for a while before that. Lemme tell you something, nursing? Almost entirely to do with cleaning up bodily fluids and dealing with bitchy families. So not worth the fees to become one.”
Again, something was itching at Dean’s brain, and he couldn’t figure it out. He was sure that he’d never been in this town before, he’d have remembered it. So why was the guy so familiar?
“There you go boys,” the janitor opened up the office and stepped out of the way. Sam pulled out his EMF-meter, and the short man spared it a brief glance. “What the heck’s that for?”
-Twenty Eight - Learn to Fly-
Dean watched Sam threaten the silver-haired man, and felt pieces clicking into place. Pompous jerks… just desserts… the fact that Sam was carrying around a wooden stake with blood on it was a pretty big clue as well.
“Don’t lie to me!” Sam shouted, clearly nearing the end of his rope. “We’ve killed one of your kind before!”
Then the image of the man faded, and Dean was staring at a face that had haunted his dreams for the past year.
“Actually, bucko,” the Trickster grinned up at Sam, “you didn’t.”
-Thirty - Holy Water-
“Sweet tooth, just desserts, screwin’ with people before you kill ‘em… we’re dealing with the Trickster, aren’t we?” Dean couldn’t help the giddy feeling that bubbled up in him at that thought. He tried to put it down to being glad they could finally kill the creature - maybe - and not think about how the creature’s eyes had lit up with laughter the last time he’d seen it.
“Sure looks like it,” Sam shrugged, going to his own pack and searching for something. Dean swiped a wrapper off the table and fiddled with it, trying to get his head back in the game.
“Good. I’ve been wanting to gank that mother since Mystery Spot.” He injected as much venom as he could into the statement, and hoped that Sam wouldn’t call him on it.
-Thirty - Worry About You-
“Can’t we all just get along?”
Dean’s head whipped up at the familiar voice, and he stared at Gabriel as he sauntered in. He’d never really used that word to describe someone’s movement before, but the archangel was definitely sauntering. Smug bastard that he was.
“Ga-”
Gabriel made a quick motion with his hand, and Dean felt it as he was unable to speak. Looking across, Sam was suffering the same predicament, and looking just as confused. What was Gabriel doing here?
“Sam… Dean… Always wrong place, worst time with you two mutton-heads, huh?” He didn’t appear outwardly fazed, but something about him made Dean tense.
Something was scaring the tricksy angel, for some reason Gabriel didn’t want any of them to be here. That made Dean pause and try to figure out what was going on. He knew that they were surrounded by pagan deities, which was bad enough… could they hurt Gabriel?
“Loki.”
Dean and Sam shared a shocked glance as Gabriel wandered forward, apparently at ease amongst the deities. And if Baldur was correct… Gabriel was in fact Loki.
This brought a whole new perspective on why Gabriel was so keen to stay hidden from the other angels. While they’d known that he was pretending to be a Trickster, they hadn’t counted on the fact that Gabriel - or Loki - used to have worshippers of his own. He’d actively encouraged humans to violate one of the Commandments.
Even as he was considering this, Dean realised that Gabriel was being serious as he spoke to the other occupants of the room. Then he turned back and grinned at the Winchesters.
“The adults need to have a conversation. Check ya later!”
And with a snap of his fingers, Dean found himself back in the bedroom he and Sam had been in earlier.
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