Fanfiction | Shadow Called | And So it Begins
Title: And So it Begins
Author: frickangel
Fandoms: Supernatural, Charmed, & Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Summary: As Paige has to save her charge without exposing magic and the existence of Whitelighters, Chris stumbles by and lends a helping, albeit reluctant, hand. Dean soon learns that not all things supernatural are demons.
A/N: Part of the Shadow Called fandom. aliasjanedoe’s bunny. Just borrowing it for a while and will be sent back unharmed. Almost. Might be missing a few patches of fur and a couple of scratches, but it’ll live-I think.
This is sort of a push for Jane to write her actual version. I figured my god-awful piece here will spur her into saving this imaginary fandom.
Timeline: AU for Charmed, during Season Six but canon for Supernatural Season One.
Back-story: Oh my, this is rather long. Here goes: It was after the horrific ‘Route 666’ in which we figured Cassie needs to die and so who else to kill her but Faith. Then it all started the Faith/Dean pairing we had cooking up in our demented heads which led to Wallpapers and manips. By that time we had a friend who believed SPN wasn’t worth watching (she apparently got bored after five minutes) and so to lure her to watch it, we added-to our little ‘verse-Chris Halliwell from Charmed and threw out Sam. Liking the idea very much, we left it at that for a while before Jane thought that wouldn’t it be awesome if Paige was Sam’s Whitelighter.
And here we are.
Disclaimer: So and so belongs to who and who.
-----
Jeans are a gift from God.
Seriously, it’s the only thing which made hiding behind the sidewalk bushes slightly more bearable. Then again, there was the question of why she was hiding behind the sidewalk bushes in the middle of the night. Not to mention the fact that she was in Stanford, not that far from San Francisco but neither was it that near. Plus, she was alone and waiting.
Paige frowned and massaged her feet; her left side already falling asleep and suffering from the incessant jabs of pins and needles. Sometimes, she hated having another fellow Whitelighter as a brother-in-law, only because he’d always talk her into taking up any of her forced Whitelighter duties.
It seems he forgot to add how’d she be sitting and holding out for her charge in the cold night.
Oh, let’s not leave out her pre-cognitive sister who yells about fire and doom, and linking it to her newest charge.
Fun.
The half-witch wondered if sitting on the soggy grass would make it as uncomfortable as she had thought it would be. Damp jeans couldn’t be that bad, could it?
Looking up at the bare and empty road, Paige sighed before contemplating about the dewy ground again.
“Paige?”
Whirling behind and ready to orb a stone at her would-be attacker, she sighed in relief and in slight shock at her familiar visitor. “What the hell are you doing here?” she hoarsely whispered.
“I could say the same thing to you,” he answered and stood by her side, glancing down at her.
She felt the pleat of his khakis between her fingers and yanked him down to the ground, “Hide before someone sees you.”
“What the-”
“Shhh …” her finger was to her lips, warning him about making too much noise. “People’ll hear you.”
Knotting his eyebrows together, there was the unmistakable look of utter confusion and bewilderment. “Since when do we sneak up on demons like this?”
“We’re not vanquishing a demon.”
“Then what are we doing here?”
She tore her focus from the road to the young man beside her, “It was never a ‘we’. I was the one-” Paige jerked and tilted her head slightly, sudden realisation dawning upon her. “Wait…how did you find me here?”
His surprised look was a huge contrast to the suspicious one Paige was building, “What? I can’t just … you know, check up on you? I mean, you’re my charge and stuff…like, you know…err-”
“Phoebe sent you,” her eyes narrowed to thin slits.
“No?”
“Chris…” she injected as much a warning tone into her voice.
He shrugged, “She did. So what?”
“I can’t believe she wouldn’t even trust me with this one charge?!” throwing up her hands, she caught her own voice rising and bit her tongue. “Why isn’t she here?”
“Piper,” her nephew simply stated and slouched his shoulders. “You know, with her pregnant with…” he paused and thought for a while, “with me, and the whole not getting worked up about things-”
“Yeah, and letting Phoebe stay to keep a lid on things?”
He nodded and slapped his thighs lightly, “Yeah, pretty much.”
“I’m sure that in the future Phoebe still holds the track record of ‘not being able to hold a secret very long’, right?” Sarcasm was the one thing that the entire Halliwell family wasn’t short of, and right now she had enough for two generations to come.
Of course, Chris also inherited the infamous Piper ‘Whatever-now-shut-up-before-I-hurt-you’ stare. With three years of living together with her half sisters, the effect had worn off its influence. “Can we just tell me what’s going on?” he sighed and followed Paige’s gaze to the road.
“Didn’t my lovely sister tell you?”
“It was more of a morse code version,” he held his contemplative expression while retelling his tale. “Kind of like: ‘Go find Paige. Stop. I’ll stay with Piper. Stop. If I go she’ll fall into neurotic overdrive. Stop. Not good for mini-you. Stop.’”
“This whole family needs a shrink,” muttering through clenched teeth, Paige gave up and finally settled on the wet land.
“So I’ve heard.”
Night skies and cool air surrounded them as they sat wordlessly for a few moments. Both half Whitelighters tended to their own personal musings. “He’s my charge,” Paige said, her voice showing all the weariness and boredom she had pent up for a while now. “Elders practically threw him in my lap.”
“You have a charge?” there was no mistaking the surprise in Chris’ tone. “Since when?”
“Since before you arrived,” Paige replied nonchalantly. “Sorta…” she shrugged and cringed at the sudden memory of her ‘stone-age’, not to mention her power-trip as a goddess. “You know, before the whole Titan business? I kept having dreams about fires and brimstones; at first I thought they were some future destiny of mine and after we got rid of the Titans, I stopped having them. Figured that whatever it was had passed.”
“Then you started having those dreams again?” Chris half questioned and half concluded to himself.
“Not to mention I kept getting this pesky ringing in my ears. You got that, right? When you were called to be a Whitelighter?”
He shook his head slowly, “Hey, I prematurely entered the world of Whitelighter-ism. You guys are my first charges-so, I kinda skipped the beginnings of it.”
“Oh,” she pouted slightly and furrowed her brows before droning on. “In any case, Sandra, our ‘favourite’ Elder pointed out that my dreams are probably related to my charge. I gave her the whole sceptical look and negative talk about balancing life and being a witch hence I have a pass on Whitelighter duties.”
“She didn’t buy it.”
“They never do,” Paige wrinkled her nose at the thought of Elders, even despite Leo being one. Actually, come to think of it, his post as one only strained the relationship between all even more. “So comes my charge.”
Throwing his hands up, Chris nodded, “Okay fine. So what do we know about your charge. Is he a witch or a Whitelighter to be-what?”
“That’s the thing,” she said and wrenched out a strand of green leaves from the shrub. She needed to let out her frustration somewhere and she sure as hell couldn’t start throwing rocks into windows like she used to.
Or could she?
“He’s a regular human being kinda guy,” Paige continued, shaking off the temptation to do destruction of personal property. “Something about 22 years ago, when he was a baby, a demon attacked his family and killed his mother. Since then, his father sent him on this crusade against ghosts and evil. After a while he got tired of it and wanted a normal life of his own-and now he’s here. In Stanford.”
“Huh …” Chris blinked and kept the same blank expression. “So, that was two decades ago, why are you his first Whitelighter now?”
“The Elders believe the demon is back again, and they need someone to watch over the guy or risk losing the great power within him.”
“Wait, he's got powers?”
“I’m just quoting what they told me, so I think yes.”
“If his got powers, why are we here to save him?”
“You’ve got powers,” Paige retorted and deadpanned, “Why do we end up saving your butt too?”
Chris made a failed attempt at muffling his snort, “For one, your charge doesn’t have three demon magnets under his care. Especially when they’re smart ass witches who-OW!”
Her hand might’ve hurt from punching him in the arm so hard, but it wasn’t incapable of pointing a finger in warning, “Watch that mouth of yours, mister, or else when you return to the future, you just might find an old photo of yourself in a ballerina’s dress.” Even the discomfort of damp jeans was worth the look on his face, “Complete with a pink tutu.”
“You wouldn’t dare…”
“Try me.”
“I didn’t just drop-”
It was loud and not at all subtle. Whirling behind her, Paige looked over the hedge and witnessed an old Impala-in mint condition-pulled itself right in front the house. The smooth dark paint of the car gleamed with the light from the moon and, of course, from the street lamps.
“That’s one old junk,” Chris whistled as he appeared just by her side, looking at the same direction.
She swatted him again with the back of her hand, “It’s a classic Chevy. What do they teach you in the future anyways?”
The engine of the Impala purred before going silent, “You’ll call me if you find him?” a young man emerged from the car and turned in time to ask the mysterious driver.
“Sam…” Paige whispered and watched him back-up onto the curb.
Behind her, Chris shuffled around, causing a slight rustling of the grass, “Your charge?”
Only nodding in reply, they both fell silent as Sam went on, “Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”
“No, no, no…. Bad idea, don’t leave him,” she hissed, hoping that some divine power would be listening to her quiet wish.
Chris gently nudged her and stared questioningly into her face, “Huh?”
“Something bad’s going to happen tonight. Phoebe caught a premonition,” Paige never took her eyes off her charge and adding in a soft whisper, “And I can feel it to…”
“So, just go in and save him. That’s why you’re his Whitelighter, right?”
“Well, that is a great plan, Chris,” she risked losing sight of Sam by rolling her eyes. “But there’s only one tiny problem with that.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Elders don’t want him to know about magic and Whitelighters.”
“Why not?” The overwhelming amount of disbelief in his question wasn’t hard to detect. “You said he was a demon hunter, shouldn’t that make it easier to understand what’s going on?”
“Yeah, but according to the Elders, his been hunting the demons for so long that anything supernatural will just seem evil to him-that includes magic and us,” she sighed, and secretly concurred with the Elders’ reasoning-for once. “Damn it!” Paige mentally cursed a whole string of profanities as the Impala’s engine roared back to life.
“Sam!” a deep voice filtered out from the car, “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.”
A moment of hesitation from him as he nodded in response, “Yeah.”
That was it. No goodbyes, no “are you going to be all right?” or “do you need my help?” exchange. What kind of stupid brother would do that?
Brother.
Windows rolled down; Paige recognised the driver as Sam’s brother while the Impala rolled by and picked up speed. She just couldn’t remember his name for some stupid reason. “Okay, game plan,” she turned to her nephew and spat out at super-speed. “I’ll stay with Sam. You go after his brother and try to get him back to Sam.”
“What?”
She clenched her teeth and suppressed the urge to smack the back of his head, “Go after Sam’s brother and bring him back.”
“Brother?”
“Older brother. I don’t care how you do it just get his ass here.” Paige shook her head, ignoring the fact that she just made a rather slash-like reference. “Hurry up!”
Not budging an inch, he continued staring at her in wide-eyed confusion.
“I swear, Chris. Pink tutu and ballet slippers will happen …”
He sputtered a couple of incoherent syllables but gave in to reluctant acceptance.
Blinking at the blue orbs and soft bells that thinned out, the witch straightened herself, watching as the youngster opened the door to his home, and possibly to a fate worse than death. With neither a thought of plan, Paige filled the air with her own magic, leaving the front lawn and sidewalk hedges in complete silence.
-----
“…do this, Chris. Do that, Chris,” he muttered under his breath as the ground around him solidified, becoming as real as the cold air circling around him. Landing his foot on the road, Chris’ rubber soles made soft grating sounds against the gravel as he moved towards the middle of the street. Any hopes of hiding the truth from this duo was going to be hard, but then again, Paige said Sam shouldn’t know about magic, doesn’t mean the same rule applies to his sibling.
The strong sounds of the engine couldn’t be missed, and before long, he spotted the junk car, and he was right in the way. “I don’t care how you do it, Chris,” he tried mimicking his aunt’s voice-sounding more like a constipated squirrel instead.
It loomed closer.
“Just get his ass back here she said.”
The one headlight of the car bathed him in a soft glow now. He flinched at the sudden assault of luminescence, fighting the urge to raise his hands and shield his eyes. “Okay then,” he murmured to himself, though barely heard over the loud blaring of the Impala’s horn, “my way.”
Tires screeched and squealed; the dark chariot came to a full stop, merely two inches away from Chris.
Okay, maybe it was about four inches.
Either way, he had figured if the idiot behind the wheel was that bad a driver, he could still orb away at the last minute. Inwardly, Chris breathed in a small thank you to the heavens for not having to test his reflexes. On the outside, however, he stared steely at the shadow of the man in his vehicle; only the mechanical sounds tore the silence away.
“Dude, are you completely insane?!” half his body was leaning out of the car, his tone dripping with anger as well as downright shock.
Setting his lips in a thin line, Chris’ mind scrambled to piece the words together.
“You mute too?” he hollered from behind his car door, his body completely out of the seat and two feet firmly on the ground.
Chris thought he caught him muttering something along the lines of, ‘Demons I get, but humans are plain nuts’. Taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, he could see puffs of condensation where his hot breath flowed, “Sam’s in danger.” Truth was the best thing he could come up with. After all, Chris had a gut-feeling that any half-cooked excuse wasn’t going to work on Sam’s brother.
Damn, why couldn’t Paige leave a name at least?
“Who are you?” there was a complete 360 degrees change in his tone; from being pissed off to overly-suspicious of the situation. It’s amazing what warning people of impending danger could do.
“It’s not important. What is important is that you need to turn around and go back to Sam.”
“I said…” his hand dove under the jacket, bringing forth the sharp sounds of a revolver loading and being aimed at Chris, “Who are you?”
He had had athames, potions, poisoned Darklighter arrows, knives, and other life threatening weapons pointed and thrown at him. Somehow, seeing something as human as a gun was almost funny.
Hand slightly lifted, Chris concentrated on the revolver and with a quick wave, tore it from the man’s grasp with an unseen force. The metal made a rattling sound as it skidded across the street and hit the curb; a useless object without the guidance of man.
“What the hell?!” he yelled, and stared wide-eyed at Chris. It was not fear that the Whitelighter saw in his eyes, but the calm rage and determination. “Cristo!”
Raising both eyebrows in confusion, Chris sighed and took a step closer, “We can stay here and call each others names for all I care. I’m just a messenger.” He held the other’s glare and quickened his words, “Or you could get back in that heap of yours and cruise off, knowing that your brother could possibly be in danger, and you ignored my warning.”
Falling silent, Chris followed his gaze to the gun that lay coldly on the ground.
“I’m not the threat here,” Chris’ voice was tight and filled with annoyance that the idiot before him wasn’t getting it into his thick skull. “Would it hurt to go and check on him?!”
Were all older brothers this obnoxious and conceited? Sure, Wyatt had an excuse-he was evil.
Chris watched him swallow hard, and could almost make out the sound of wheels turning in his mind. The half breed’s stance stiffened into full alert again, ready to do more than just harmlessly throw the weapon away; the older man cautiously paced towards the pistol, never once averting his sight from Chris.
Only when he had flipped the safety on and tucked it beneath his jacket again, did Chris realise the fury behind this man’s eyes had subsided. All that was left was the need to check on his family-or what remains of it. Chris knew that look too well for him to deny it. He had lived almost the last 10 years of his life wishing to undo the wrongs and protect what was important to him. At least this stranger will have that chance Chris barely had.
Carefully, he placed one foot into the car and was about to pull himself completely behind the wheel when he turned. Half his face was darkened by the shadows of the light, but he stared hard at Chris, as if trying to determine one last time if there were any traces of deceit beneath his words.
He would find none.
Whether his apprehension was appeased from the confident nod Chris offered, he would not know, as Sam’s brother slammed the door and brought the monstrous engine back to life. Listening as the gears changed, the Chevy made a three-point turn-a hasty one-and found its way back from where it came.
Burying his face into his open palms, Chris breathed out slowly and regretted not throwing on a thicker jacket for the night. He squinted and made certain the car drove off into the right direction, its red taillights disappearing into the night covered streets of Stanford.
-----
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Paige whispered as the walls of Sam’s living room fell into place.
The door slammed, signalling Sam’s entrance into the apartment. “Jess! You home?” he yelled into the empty space, pausing for moment to catch a reply.
Only silence answered back.
Protected from sight by the kitchen door, she spied the young man waltzing up to the dinning table and spotted the pile of cookies. She couldn’t help but smile, thinking about her older sister and her baking frenzies. More often than a few times, Paige would come home to the aroma of cinnamon and sugar greeting her.
Watching as he bit into the treat and savouring the taste, she had this overwhelming guilt, somehow realising that Sam’s days of carefree wonders were coming to a very fast and abrupt end. It felt even worse to know that if this was his fate, then there was nothing she could do to change it.
Sam dusted the stray crumbs from his fingers as he chewed on the cookie and wandered around the room, picking up a stack of letters and thumbing through them. Satisfied that none seemed to be important, he tossed it back on the small coffee stand and headed to his room.
Barely even midway there, he took a sudden turn and reached out for a photo frame hanging on the wall. Paige strained to see what could’ve captivated his attention; it was a simple photo of a pretty blonde girl and Sam had his arm over her shoulder. Their smiles told only of the moment’s happiness, not bothering about what the future may hold.
Paige’s muscles were beginning to cramp again as she stood hidden, overly suspicious about every corner in the room. Whatever it was that was going after Sam, she had a pretty good idea that they won’t be labelling the word ‘I’m a threat!’ on its forehead.
Moving the frame slightly and making sure it was in its proper position, Sam sighed and adjusted the bag’s strap on his shoulder. As he finally made his way out of the area, Paige stepped out from her hiding space, carefully following behind him.
He stepped into one of the rooms, and she knew there was no way she could go in there as well. Unless…
Closing her eyes, she concentrated and allowed the magic to take over; she opened her eyes to the white tiled bathroom. Warm mist of condensation filled the air and the dread that she had just orbed into an occupied shower drowned her. It usually meant that a scream of terror from an innocent would ensue and it’d deafen her-she was going to have a whole lot of explaining to do.
Constant drumming of water against the floor was the only thing that she heard. Finally daring to turn around, Paige’s cringe of fear became one of surprise-only seeing a running shower but no one beneath the raining water.
Weird.
Tearing herself from the mystery, she found the door of the bathroom slightly ajar, giving her easy access to watch her charge.
Sam was already in the room, sitting on bed and chewing on his second cookie of the night. His luggage was carelessly chucked to the side of the wall, not caring to unpack-or at least not now. Dodging as fast as possible, Paige found refuge behind the door once again as he turned behind and glanced at the bathroom.
Whoever it was that he thought was in here; Paige could safely say he was wrong. Counting up to five, she returned to her post and saw that he had thrown himself on the mattress with, a look of contentment etched on his face.
Maybe the Elders were wrong; maybe she was wrong.
Almost an entire night had passed without so much as a bump, no signs of evil or any sort of demon was around. The boy was obviously in blissful existence, especially with that sort of goofy grin on his face. If there’s anything out of the ordinary here that the Elders had predicted, it was probably the unmanned shower.
She was going to kill Phoebe.
Temptation to turn off the water was eating at her; looking behind, Paige watched as the beads of moisture blessed the half opened shower curtains. Standing by the door, even though further away from it, the humidity of the warm bath was getting to Paige.
He flinched and the warning bells in her head went off. She told herself to stop acting so damn paranoid, but it was hard to keep telling her that-not when her charge had just gasped and screamed “No!”
“Oh God…” Paige whispered, her blood running cold in her veins at the sight of a girl’s body impaled to the ceiling. Even with her face frozen eternally in fear, Paige knew her from the photo in the hall. Her blonde hair was spread out and sticking to the top like static; her golden strands striking a huge contrast against the bright red that stained the girl’s nightgown.
The Whitelighter felt the icy shivers run down her spine as she watched things unfold. Only when the violent tendrils of fire began licking at the body and devouring everything else in sight, spreading fast-and towards her charge-did Paige find the momentum to move. To hell with the rules of the Elders, there was no point in keeping it if Sam dies.
Fingers gripping the doorknob, she pulled it open and was washed over by the heat, forcing her back into the bathroom. Her plan was simple: rush in blindly, grab Sam and orb out. She’ll worry about the explanations and repercussions later, but she needed to save his life first. All she needed to do was-
“Sam!”
Trying hard to see pass the flames, Paige raised her hand-and meek attempt at trying to block out the bright heat and to see who it was that had called out her charge’s name.
It was his brother.
“No! No!” Sam was oblivious to the danger surrounding him; only the pain of losing someone he loved was what he knew.
Looking up and watching with the same shock that Paige held, he dashed for his younger brother and snatched him away from the inferno, “We gotta get out of here!” He struggled with Sam, trying hard to pull him out of danger and death.
Chris must’ve gotten to him, persuaded him to turn around one way or another and look in on Sam.
“Come on!”
The new and foreign voice didn’t belong to either Sam or his brother, but she knew it somehow. Whirling behind, she met the familiar green eyes and the face she had come to know as their guardian angel’s for the past nine months. “Chris?” He chanced a quick look into the room, seeing what she saw: both brothers were out, but the fire remained and was moving in with its ferocious appetite. Flinching at the sudden coolness of his grasp around her arm, she turned and watched as the of blur bright orange-reds faded into blue.
-----
Tonight seemed to be a night of colours. Now, the entire neighbourhood was submerged under the bright siren lights; flickering between blue and red, causing the scene to be twice as uninviting. The fire was beginning to die down under the control of the firemen, while the police wandered around the crowds trying to gather as much eye witness accounts. Though it no matter what people say, the public always accepts what they know it best as: an accident.
A simple case of electrical failure. It was unfortunate that a young girl, a loving and dutiful daughter who had a bright future, was the sole victim in the tragic event. Everybody loves a good story of mishap and it was an attention grabber. So much so that the crowd that had gathered around the scene were unaware of two strangers standing amongst them and looking worse for wear.
“How’d you convince him?”
Chris shrugged and watched the chaos before them, a faint stain of soot was on his cheek, “You said whatever it takes.”
“You told him about magic?” Paige’s gaze followed a random fire-fighter as he jogged back to the truck, dragging another hose from the reels. He adjusted the gloves on his hands before carrying the tube back to aid in dosing out the blaze.
“Maybe.”
Licking her lips, she understood what he meant. Almost an hour ago she was ready to unveil the existence of Whitelighters despite the Elders’ wishes. She was never good at keeping to their rules, and neither did anyone of the Halliwell family.
Between the pair, no words were needed to understand what was meant. Paige shot a glance at her nephew who in return reciprocated with the same look of weariness and indifference. After years of fighting evil, ‘thank-you-s’ were a redundant part of their lives.
A low whistle flitted by, “Must be some fire.”
Both witches turned to see a brunette standing by them. She was tall, at least taller than Paige was, but it wasn’t her height that commanded their attention. It was the fact that she exuberated too much confidence and carefree leisure in the happening.
“Anyone die?”
She frowned at the brunette…then at Chris. Any normal human being with compassion would’ve asked if anyone was hurt, not if they had died. “Just one,” Paige whispered back in a low voice.
“A guy?” her mood had changed-slight, yet Paige caught it.
“No,” she was searching the newcomer’s face, trying to find the meaning behind her questions. “An innocent girl.”
“Should’ve known,” she continued and watched the crowd, as if scanning the area. Even with the tough-chick exterior, her grin still brought out the beauty that lay hidden beneath the hardness of her face, “He’s too stubborn to die.”
“What?” Chris said from behind his aunt, “Who-”
Ignoring him, she was focused on something across the lawn and Paige found what-or who-she was looking at. It was Sam’s brother; he mirrored them and was standing on the front lines of the crowd, staring at what was left of the place.
On cue, like he had sensed three pairs of eyes on him, he turned and noticed their little powwow.
“Y’all just need a little faith,” the brunette laughed slightly and sunk back into the mass of spectators.
Forcing their way through the gathering of people-weaving pass them, pushing those who reluctantly moved-the magical duo emerged and found the empty street. Not a trace of their mysterious visitor, no resounding footsteps or even a shadow. Only street lamps, damp roads, and two messy looking Whitelighters remained alone. Whoever it was was fast and definitely not just a regular passer-by.
Then again, such baffling appearances should be left for less eventful times. “I don’t know about you,” Paige said, surveying the place just to be sure, “but I think I’ve had about enough for one night.”
“Yeah,” Chris agreed and nodded along, “Let’s go.”
Glancing back at the once fiery house, she sighed and felt the tickle of the orbs that left as Chris disappeared into thin air. Watching the empty spot where he once stood, Paige whispered a small apology to Jess, wishing that fate could’ve chosen a less murderous path. Taking one long and deep breath, she summoned the powers around her and dreamt of home.
-----
“Faith?” Removing his hands from his pockets, Dean raised his head and tried to relocate the slayer he thought he saw. Placing a foot forward, he took another step closer and maybe then he could- “Hey!” he barked and glared at the police officer that was pushing him back into the crowds with a firm hand.
“Stay back,” the man in blue ordered.
He hated authorities, especially the law enforcing type; never had and never will.
Satisfied that Dean was finally at a distance from the hype, the officer left him well alone and also to frown on the fact that he couldn’t find her anymore. “Damn, cops,” he hissed and backed away from the horde of people. Bringing an end to Constance’s haunting had elevated his spirits earlier on, but meeting some sort of demon warning him of his brother’s danger had destroyed his good mood. It made it even worse when the demon’s warning was true and seeing Jess like that…like he had seen his mother-
Should he tell Sam what happened?
Dean stared at his younger sibling as he loaded a rifle, the raw hurt and vengeance set into his face.
Maybe another time.
Studying the gleaming metal in his hands, Sam lifted his head and sighed at Dean, probably realising they weren’t in Kansas anymore. The rifle made a soft clunk as it hit against the other weapons in the trunk.
“We got work to do.”
-----
END