The World You Thought You Live In 3/12
Chapter 3
Dean calmly pocketed the money before he hold up his hands. He smiled but the biker only adjusted his grip around the cue. Over the noise in the bar Victor couldn't hear the exchange between Dean and his new friend but when that biker threw a punch the meaning was clear. Dean however was prepared and ducked the punch easily.
Crap. All three of the bikers were around Dean's height but a lot bulkier.
Within seconds Sam was with Dean and Victor only a step behind. They would so spend the night in an hospital - or more likely with makeshift motel treatment - but he would be damned if he backed off now. Three against three, at least it was a fair fight, sort of.
Victor knew how to fight, of course he did. The FBI trained their people well but never with the intention to knock somebody out. So Victor knew how to secure somebody but he had no handcuffs to finish the job. A bar brawl was a whole new experience.
However he tried his best. Victor dodged a cue - all three of them were armed with those by now - and landed two punches himself. They never tell you in the movies how you hurt own knuckles with that, Victor thought. Anyhow it worked. Victor watched the guy stumble backwards over a table and going down. Distracted for a second he never saw the swing with the cue coming. Pain exploded in his already sore ribs and he was down on hands and knees. His vision grayed around the edges and he could only concentrate on breathing. From the corner of his eye he saw Sam taking down one of the guys with ease and a thud form his right told him that Dean had finished his part, too. Only the biker Victor had faced was getting back on his feet. With a precise move Sam knocked him out. Victor blinked. It was so easy to dismiss Sam. He looked just so young and innocent but this was the guy who took out two armed SWAT guys in the bank in Milwaukee.
"C'mon, Vic. Time to go." Dean hauled him to his feet and Victor bit back a whimper. It was embarrassing enough that he went down with one blow and the Winchesters didn't even get hit.
"You OK?" Outside the bar Sam turned back to his next-door-college-boy-self.
Victor nodded. "Sorry, got me off guard." The pain was back in his side and he had trouble breathing. His vision swam but he tried to stand on his own feet. But he was glad Dean was at his side to hold him upright. And Victor leaned into him only a little bit.
"We really should practice your hand-to-hand technique." Dean pointed out. "You can't let people jump you."
"Yeah, and you've never got the shit beaten out of you, Dean." Sam snorted. "I remember you were taken hostage by a thirteen year old girl."
"No, her father and her two older incest brothers put her in charge after they tied me up. That's a huge difference. And you were exactly where at that time?" Dean laughed lost in memories. Apparently he enjoyed this. When this were good memories for him Victor had no intention to find out how bad ones looked like. And if he had enough breath for words at the moment he would have asked about the story behind this.
"We check your ribs as soon as we get back to the motel." Sam continued ignoring his still grinning brother. Victor just gave another nod.
"Nothing broken but you'll get one hell of a bruise." Was Sam's diagnose after he examined Victor's bare chest and side. "I'll warp it up, that should help with the pain."
The dressing looked professional and it stabilized his ribs and eased his breathing. Victor doubted a doctor could have done a better job.
"You have a lot experience with this." It wasn't a question.
"Comes with the job. You'll get used to it." Sam handed him his shirt. While he struggled with the fabric Victor recapped the events since his encounter with the Winchesters back at that motel. Since then Sam had been stitched up, Dean had suffered a concussion and Victor had been in need of medical attention three times. And not even with serious stuff. A self-inflicted cut to his arm and two times because of his damn ribs. Pathetic, wasn't it?
"Do you already regret taking me along?" He tried a half-smile but didn't meet Sam's eye.
"Nope." Came the response from Dean who was sitting at the table and counting his money. "It's actually kinda funny to see you on the floor."
"You were a bit under the weather in the first place." Sam assured him. "Give it a day or two to heal and you're up for every monster we come across."
"Just try to not get hit again."
"Thanks, Dean. I'll consider that." Victor shot back. At least the brothers didn't seem to be annoyed or tiered of him. So hopefully they would be still there in the morning and not leaving in the middle of the night. Not that Victor really expected that. For that they were to … responsible?
"So that's how you earn your money?" Victor changed the subject. "Beside the credit cards?"
"It's an easy way." Dean answered with a shrug. "And it doesn't have to end with a fight."
"As you know credit cards leave a trail to follow." Sam added and snagged a few bills from the table. Dean's protest was halfhearted at best.
"So I'll better learn how to play pool, or what?" Victor had played once in a while with some friends but he had never been good at it.
"It helps. Poker is a good thing, too." Dean put the money in his pocket before Sam could get any more of it. "On the other hand you can always steal what you need. But I recommend that as your last option. Cops don't like it."
"I wonder why."
Dazed with painkillers Victor slept like a baby and woke up early in the morning. A shower helped his abused muscles and he was ready to go when Sam knocked at his door.
The remaining journey went by with mindless talking and the usual boredom of a car ride. Back at the FBI Victor had his map where he had marked every sighting of the Winchester brothers but until now he had never realized the endless hours they had to spend in a car. And this was a short journey. According to their files they sometimes crossed half the country to get to their next hunt. Which could always turn out to be just your nice little serial killer from the neighborhood as Dean phrased it.
When they finally took quarter in a motel which would be their base of operation for the next couple of days Victor didn't even complained about the run down place. He was only glad that he didn't have to get back in the car the next day.
"So far there had been three victims." Sam summed up the case. "I think we should talk to their people first to get a picture of the situation."
"Sounds good." Dean put on the jacket of his suit. It was still kinda disturbing to see him in that kind of outfit. He looked almost reliable. "Vic and I go check out the first one. What was her name?"
Sam searched in his papers. In the last half an hour he had put together a basic file some agents at the FBI would be jealous of. "Patricia Guzman. Here's the address of her parents, she lived with them."
Dean stuffed the paper in his pocket along with something that looked very much like a badge.
OK, Victor thought. It's time to get serious. It was one thing to know they would impersonate an officer but to actually stand next to Dean while he did it? That was a whole different league.
"Oh, by the way. This is for you." Dean handed him another badge. It looked almost like the one he had given to his boss not long ago. Victor hesitated to open it. He wouldn't be just a bystander. He was going to impersonate an officer himself. He was going to commit a serious crime.
If he crossed this line there would be no turning back. Victor felt the brothers watching him. Of course they knew what this meant.
Victor opened the badge and examined the picture. It was the same he knew from his old one - wherever Dean got that from - but the name wasn't his.
"Who the hell is Dennis DeYoung?"
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