The Juniper Tree (The Dresden Files/Supernatural) 1/4
Title: The Juniper Tree
Author: ‘Drea/placeofinsanity
Rating: R (for gore, some language and implied sexual content)
Word Count: 12,370 (bitches )
Kink: Endearments, loss of control, magical themes...
Fandoms: Supernatural/The Dresden Files
Pairing: Harry/Bob, Harry/Sam, Sam/Dean
Summary: “We’re asking for help from a wizard who advertises in the yellowpages? ”
Thanks To: My lovely betas: thebunnybag , asexyzombie , rayn_firehawk and sixthbrightest
Artist: aramuin , thank you so much for the AMAZING art.
Notes: I hate Season Four Ruby. I hate her. This is your only warning. Also, the kinks are kind of hidden. Have fun finding them.
Part One
The Tree
The shadow blended in with the trees. Almost too well, the blanket covered figure, toting something too large and gangly for its height, danced around the monkeybars and the swing set of a park. The moon was full, but it shed no light on the cloaked beings face. It was just darkness inset upon darkness.
There was a tree, much larger than the others, a red x drawn into its thick bark. The figure stumbled and nearly fell into the hole that had been dug before the great tree. It swore, its voice lost on the sudden wind, and it visibly shivered, dropping its burden into the hole. The plastic bag crinkled loudly in the silence, and when it landed, parts - body parts - spilled out onto the damp ground.
Damp ground made damper by blood. An arm, a torso, all carved up and flayed as though someone had stripped the meat from the bones immediately gathered flies despite the late hour. The only part of the body that hadn’t been completely mutilated was the head - the head of a very small, underfed boy.
When the cloaked figure began to push the dirt back, filling the hole, the head was the first thing it covered. Slowly, laboriously, the figure began to layer in the dirt. Once a few inches had been laid down, she took off the blanket and laid down over the boy.
She worked the rest of the night in silence but for the sound of her harsh breathing.
In the morning, no one noticed the over turned dirt. No one noticed a dark haired woman leaving the park with a red ribbon tied around her neck.
They did, however, notice that the dead tree which had been scheduled for demolition had bloomed, and the scent of juniper blossoms floated out over the city.
-
Harry Dresden was not having a good day. His phone had rung at almost six in the morning, a time he generally didn’t see much of, and in his vast irritation at Murphy, the coffee maker had fizzled out. Mister didn’t seem to be around either.
Though the morning was beyond salvaging as money was tight and Dunkin Donuts was too expensive even for him, he met Murphy at the address she gave him. At first, it looked there was nothing wrong - the house he pulled up to wasn’t closed off by CAUTION tape, nor were there copious amounts of policemen milling around. Just Murphy.
And Kirmani.
It was always Kirmani.
“What the hell is he doing here?” the aforementioned Kirmani demanded of a tense eyed Murphy.
“Hey Murph,” he said, ignoring her boisterous partner. “What d’you got for me?”
She jerked her head at the house. “Missing kid.” Harry immediately felt her tension descend on him, missing children were always hard on the precinct, and Murphy had a nine year old at home.
“Why’d SI get it?” he asked, honestly curious.
Still tense, Murphy replied, “third one this week.”
That was a sobering thought and Harry asked no more questions, allowing himself to be led into the immaculate living room of a lawyer and his wife. The wife was crying silently into a handkerchief while her husband stood in the window gazing out without listening to or speaking with the policemen chattering nervously near by. “Mr. Alloui,” Murphy murmured respectively, “Mrs. Alloui, I have someone who may be able to help.”
Harry nodded to the man who stared impassively at him, and the wife lunged to her feet to grab at Harry’s lapels. “Please ” she gasped, “you have to find his son ”
Harry cleared his throat. “His?” he asked, hating himself when the man stiffened and left the room shortly. “Not yours?”
Still sniffling, the woman shook her head. “No, no, Cavin was a product of Louis’ first marriage...she died, and when I married Louis...he acted out, hated our new born daughter...” she sniffled again. “I just want him to come home safely. For Louis’ sake.”
A child of a deceased mother himself, Harry’s lip almost curled in a snarl. He hated women who preyed on men who were still
mourning. Catching Murphy’s warning look, Harry cleared his throat. “Ma’am, do you have something of Cavin’s?” he asked as politely as he was able. “It may make my search a little easier.”
She thought for a moment, and when she lifted her head to look through a door, Harry’s gaze was immediately drawn to the red ribbon around her neck. In the light it almost looked like...Patricia Alloui abruptly stood and left the room and Harry lost the train of thought.
When she returned, she handed him a small plastic toy car. One of the NASCAR series ones, and it had clearly been loved and seen far better days. “This will do nicely,” he said. “Thank you.”
Harry eyed the door before looking at Murphy significantly. They said their good byes and the minute they were back to the cars, Murphy looked at Harry. “Dresden,” she said evenly, “what did you see?”
“The woman is hiding something,” Harry said immediately. “She couldn’t even look at her husband, or you and I at all.” Murphy nodded, she had noticed the same thing. “She kept playing with the red ribbon around her neck,” he added. “And in some lights...it looked like blood.” She looked surprised, that one she hadn’t noticed.
“The car,” she said, gesturing. “Are you going to use it to track him?” Harry nodded. “Will you be able to tell that he’s alive?” He nodded again. “How?”
“I’ll still have the car at the end of the spell,” he said, only half joking.
Of course, when he got back to the lab, and threw together the tracking spell, and the crystal exploded with green, black and red flames, he knew that there was going to be trouble.
The little car, melted plastic and metal sat in a blackened pool at the bottom of the calcinator.
“Harry?” Bob asked, from behind him.
“He’s dead, Bob.” Harry turned around and looked at his old friend. “Some one killed that little boy.”
At a loss, unable to help him, Bob said, “Harry, it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could do.”
With a derisive chuckle, Harry agreed. “Yeah, it’s not my fault. But I’m the one who has to tell Murphy that.”
*
“Hey Dean,” Sam said. “I think I got something.” Dean grunted. “Dean ” The brother in question started counting silently in his head, and as soon as he got to three, he ducked the pelted pillow. “Jerk Pay attention ”
“Bitch, I am ” He rolled over to look at his younger brother. “What have you got, Sammy?”
Sam launched into a narrative about a serial killing of small boys in a small suburb of Chicago, and how closely it reminded him of the Grimms’ Fairytale caper with the girl like Snow White.
Dean interrupted. “If there’s only been three deaths, how are you finding out this shit about the fairytales?”
“Ash was in Chicago the other day,” Sam answered. “He and Jo talked to a few of the water pixes, one of them, named Toot-Toot told him so.” Dean made a face. “Water sprites can’t lie, and they bribed him with pizza.”
“So you want to go?” Dean asked, after debating on whether to question his brother about the pizza information.
Sam nodded. “We’ll have to get some help though, Chicago is a big place and...” he tossed an ad from a yellowpages at Dean. “And he’ll make it easier.”
Distinctly unimpressed, Dean shouted after his retreating brother, “we’re asking for help from a wizard who is in the yellowpages?”
Sam waved a hand at him before disappearing into the bathroom. “Call him ” Dean was instructed. “Just tell him that you’re Sam Winchesters brother. He’ll know me.”
Dutifully, Dean dialed the number, and the other end began to ring. It rang about five times before an out of breath voice answered, “Harry Dresden.”
“Uh. Hi, Mr. Dresden, my name is Dean Winchester...and...” he was interrupted before he could say anything else.
“Sam’s brother?” was the response. “Hell I haven’t heard from him in too long. He’s all right?”
The man’s voice was warm, and carried a smile in it, and Dean had to wonder at how they met. “Yeah he’s fine...he told me to call you...’cause...we’re going to be in Chicago in a few days.”
Harry’s voice lowered significantly. “On a Hunt?”
“Y-Yeah,” Dean answered. “How do you know Sam?” he finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Dresden chuckled, the sound low across the line. “He managed to get into Chicago before going off to Standford, lost his ticket for the bus and tried to hitch-hike. I picked him up and it’s probably a good thing I did because Chicago isn’t nice.” He laughed again. “Kid was adorable, so I’m glad he found you again.”
Sam walked out of the bedroom and snagged Dean’s cell from him. “Hey Harry,” he said into it. “Sorry I haven’t called.” He grinned at whatever the other man said. “I still say you should get a computer and live in the technological age.” There was a pause where Harry was clearly saying something. “We’ll be there in a few days. Tell Bob I said hi.” He hung up the phone and handed it back. “You ready, bro?”
“Yeah...” Dean murmured, eyeing the phone, and feeling something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Jealousy.
*
Harry laid the old rotary phone in the cradle of the handle and turned back to Bob. “Thanks for making me get this,” he said, and Bob raised a sardonic eyebrow. “It was Sam. Winchester.”
“I remember Sam,” Bob said with a grin. “Is he coming here?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, him and his brother. They’ve got a case.” He leaned back in his rickety old desk chair. “And Sam still owes me that spell - the one that’ll make me not kill every appliance in this place.” Bob smiled a little and leaned over Harry. “What?” he said, inelegantly.
“You missed him,” Bob said smugly. “I told you not to let him go.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry muttered. “Once again, you prove your omnipotence, Oh great Hrothbert of Bainbridge and you were right.”
The ghost in question snickered. “That is what I like to hear,” he murmured. “But, your knight in shining armor is coming back.”
Harry nodded absently, staring at the phone. Finally, he picked it up and waving Bob silent with one hand, began to dial Murphy’s number. It clicked to voicemail, and Harry said, “hey Murph, it’s me, come see me when you get this.”
It wasn’t something he wanted to tell her over the phone. “I am sorry though,” Bob said after he hung up, “about the boy.”
“Yeah, me too,” the wizard breathed, leaning back again in the seat and scrubbing at his face with his hands. “Kid cases are never easy. Especially when they end up dead.”
Bob somehow managed to portray the illusion of leaning against something, and asked, “do you think this is a serial killer or something supernatural?”
Harry shook his head. “I have no idea. If the kid was alive, that would be another story.”
“Hmm...” the ghost mused. “Have you thought of trying to find the body? Though the child himself is dead, there should be some remains.”
The idea had merit, and Harry dumped out the remains of the crystal into the palm of his hand. With a flick of a finger, he unrolled the map of Chicago and blew lightly on the broken, slightly black shards.
They flew out over the city and froze over three separate spots. A building in the skyscraper district - which was, on closer inspection, the work place of Louis Alloui, the suburbs, where Patricia Alloui was a homemaker, and one of the parks in downtown Chicago.
That wasn’t strange at all.
“Oh dear,” Bob murmured. “That means nothing good.”
The last time he’d had a reading like that...now there was something else he had to tell Murphy.
None of it was good.
*
By the time Dean parked the Impala in one of the underground garages close to Harry Dresden’s place, Sam was bouncing. Legitimately bouncing. “Sammy, I am going to cut them off if you keep jiggling your fucking leg ”
Sheepishly, Sam stilled his movements, and didn’t bother to correct Dean on his name. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, you will be,” was the lame comeback, but Sam was already opening the door and halfway out of the Impala.
Dean didn’t jog to catch up to him, though he wanted to, and when he finally did - they were already in front of Harry Dresden’s home and office. Sam opened the door and barreled in, and Dean was treated to the rare sight of Sam being happy. His grin was wide and infectious because the two people in the room were grinning too, and he was hugging the brunet tightly. “Sam,” he said warmly. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Sam pulled away from the embrace. “You too, Har. Bob.” He turned to the other man in the room and held up a hand, instead of hugging him too. The tall pale, white haired man placed his own palm against Sam’s, causing gold sparks of light to flicker. “Glad to see you’re still in one piece.” He winked, pulling his hand away. “I’d be very upset with Harry should he drop you.”
“I would never ” Harry protested. He turned to Dean. “Hi, sorry, you must be Dean. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He had a strong handshake and a catching grin.
“None of its true,” the elder Winchester said immediately. “Sammy over embellishes.” Sam snorted. “Because you didn’t run screaming from a house cat.”
Shooting his brother a look that promised to kill, Dean replied, “I didn’t run,” very primly.
Harry snickered, and just as he opened his mouth to reply his old rotary phone rang. His face immediately sobered and Bob motioned the two brothers silent. Harry lifted the receiver very carefully, and keeping his tone neutral said, “Dresden.”
Tinnily, through the old speaker Dean could hear a abrasive female voice. “Dresden, what have you got for me?”
“Why don’t you come in, Murph. It’s...not good.”
There was a long silence, and she said, “he’s dead?”
Harry hesitated, then added, “yes...and there’s more.”
They exchanged times and Harry hung up the phone. Everyone was very quiet and finally Dean asked, “how come you have a rotary phone?”
Sam snorted, Bob covered his smile with one hand, and Harry scowled at them both. “My magic tends to knock newer electronics out. Usually completely.” He continued to glare at the comedic duo in the corner before he finally turned to Bob. “Why don’t you take Dean down into the Lab and show him the summoning circle. Explain to him what he’ll need to summon one of the fairies from the Nevernever in order to catch whatever it is they’re Hunting.”
“Of course, Harry.” Bob gestured to Dean who followed more out of curiosity than any real desire to leave Sam with the strange wizard. “I apologize in advance Mr. Winchester, but you’ll have to open the door for me. I cannot effect the material plane.” And with that, the mysteriously dressed “Bob” vanished through the wall.
The second Harry heard the Lab door swing closed, he turned to Sam. “All right, truth,” he said, but was cut off before he could say more.
“Truth later, kissing now,” Sam murmured, and kissed him deeply. He was taller than Harry by at least four inches, and he tilted the older man’s head back, pulling him in close.
Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he murmured between kisses, “what about Dean...and, Bob?”
Sam skated his lips over Harry’s cheek, over his jawline and down his neck. “Like Bob didn’t watch us half the time anyway.”
When the kiss tapered off, Harry leaned his forehead against Sam’s. “Stars and stones, I missed you, Sam,” he murmured. “I’m glad you got your shit together.”
The door jingled open and Sam backed off quickly. “Me too,” he said, with a grin. “I’ll go join my brother.”
When Harry turned to face the newcomer, Murphy stood in the door way, one eyebrow raised. “That was Sam, wasn’t it?” she asked her voice non-committal. “He’s back in town?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah...he and his brother, actually.”
“Awkward?” she asked insightfully.
“A little,” he responded. They were silent for a long moment before the shine of one of his crystals caught his attention. “Here, this is what I wanted to show you.” He gathered up the broken pieces and displayed them on the palm of his hand. “This is the crystal I used to try and find Cavin Alloui. It exploded, meaning that the boy is dead.” Murphy cursed under her breath. “But B-I had an idea, the boy was dead but he must have left something behind, residue or a body, so I used this to find them. Watch.”
Just like before, the three crystal shards floated rapidly over the map and fixated, slightly rotating over roughly the same buildings as before. She stared at it. “What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Harry said, his voice weighted, “that his body is in three different places.”
*
Bob smiled warmly when Sam clambered down the steps into the lab. A half finished design was already painted in the air and Dean’s head shot up. “Don’t walk through the incantation, or he’ll start singing sixteenth century show tunes ” he warned hastily. “You think he’s joking? He’s not ”
Mildly, skirting the gold glittery writing, Sam asked, “did you manage already to do that in the ten minutes we left you here?” Dean winced and nodded. “Good going, jerk.”
“Shut up, bitch,” was the muffled response as Dean continued to copy down the summoning incantation they would need.
Bob raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment at the vocabulary. “Did Lt. Murphy arrive?” he asked, talking in a low tone.
“Yes,” Sam answered. “She’s not happy.”
The ghost winced. “I can’t imagine she could be. The death of children is always hard for adults to bear. But, with The Professor’s help, we should find out why the crystal is broken up into three pieces.”
“I thought cannibalism,” Dean offered from the floor.
“You’re probably right. Not about that symbol on the left, but your theory has merit,” Bob told him.
Dean paused, turned, looked at the symbol he had etched in careful charcoal, swore and erased it with his hand. “Shit How do you do this all the time, Sam?”
“Practice,” the brother and the ghost said together. Dean’s face wrinkled up in a moue of irritation and he just went back down to continue fixing the summoning circle.
Roughly ten minutes later, Harry clattered down the steps, walking through the glowing words without pause or comment. Dean let loose a low moan of disappointment which turned into an irritated growl when both Sam and Bob burst into song. The same song. Harry just chuckled, and with a quick gesture of his staff, the Circle was finished. “I’d wait for you to start again, but we don’t have that kind of time.”
Bob took that moment to disappear back into his skull, the sockets glowing merrily for a moment before fading completely. Harry, Sam and Dean took point around the circle and Harry cast the first Name.
The creature they summoned was not what either Dean or Sam were expecting. The Professor was a wrinkled, purple skinned gnome with leathery wings and fine wire rimmed glasses on his ugly hooked nose. He turned luminous yellow eyes to the three men. “My, my, my, Harry Blackstone Dresden, you have brought me guests. What sort of information do you require?”
Sam stepped forward. “It was me who summoned you. It is me you will answer to.”
The creature exchanged a look with Harry. “Young, is he? Very well then,” it continued in a fine British accent. “What is it you require, Nameless Boy?”
“I require information on a little boy, Cavin Alloui - we know he’s dead and believe he is in three different places.” Sam swallowed hard when the yellow flickering eyes of The Professor landed on him. “I wish to know why that is.”
“Three different informations. Three different Names.” The Professor said, grinning. “If one of them is Dresden’s last Name, I’ll give you a two for one.”
“One Name,” Sam said. “And I want to know about the Crystal in the park.”
“Oh very well, spoil sport.” The Professor waved a hand and just inside the Summoning Circle a large picture formulated. A blossoming juniper tree with freshly turned earth around it was there. “Find this tree, find the boys body. Most of it.” It grinned, showing off wide, sharp needle like teeth. “And this for bonus, the Crystal in Alloui’s building? He ate his own son and didn’t even know it ” the creature hooted with laughter while the humans looked vaguely ill. “Your name, Boy?”
Sam drew in a deep breath. “Sam.”
The Professor grinned another dangerous grin. “Is that short for Samuel or Samantha?” The youngest Winchester stared him down. “Oh, never fear, Samuel. I know who you are. You were Azazel’s boy. Do take care,” he warned him. “You don’t know what you seek if you take on this entity alone.”
A crackle, then The Professor was gone.
Harry sighed heavily. “All right. I’ll check out the tree tonight. Sam, Dean, you go to the Alloui’s - take one of the Crystal shards with you, better yet, take two. See where they lead you. And um...don’t pretend to be police officers. Murph will kill you slowly.”
“Be careful,” Sam said with weight.
“You know me,” was the customary answer as Harry grabbed his trench, his staff and his blasting rod on the way out of the lab. “Don’t wait up if you come home first, Sam.”
Dean looked at his brother. “Ready, Sammy?”
“...Yeah.” He shook himself, smudging out the summoning circle. “Lets go.”
*
It wasn’t an ordinary tree. The red X that had been spray painted on was bubbling, paint dripping down the angry looking bark in bloody lines. The freshly turned over earth was shaking minutely, almost as if the tree was breathing.
Well. He’d seen The Last Unicorn more than four times. He wasn’t getting close enough to the tree for it to do anything unsavory. Until he stepped on the mud around it. The tree’s leaves all twitched, giving the canopy the image of a lion shaking out its mane. And, straight out of the movie he still refused to watch, the juniper tree pulled a Whomping Willow. Harry was flung halfway across the park, using his Shield bracelet to take the brunt of the force. When he was back up on his feet, he hefted his staff and shouted, “fuego!”
But the tree shook off the fire spell like it was made of water. A slight fizzling noise and the smell of burned moss was all that was left within seconds. Tactic two: “ventas servitas!” the wind kicked up around him, protecting him from the onslaught of branches but he was unable to get close enough to the trunk to do any lasting damage.
If he was outside the ring of mud, he was safe, the tree would settle down, but he got the sense that it was waiting. Sensing. Preparing.
“You don’t have some sort of special knot to render you useless, do you?” he muttered, rubbing the ache in his ribs from the first hit he took. The tree shivered, long branches reaching out in a surprisingly cat like stretch.
Aiming at the red X, Harry shouted, “forzare!” the punch of invisible force plowed through the branches and leaves to hit home. A nearly inhuman shriek filled the air, and the X opened up just a little, just enough for him to see the face inside the bark.
It was definitely Cavin Alloui.
*End
| Part Two| Part Three | Part Four |
Author: ‘Drea/placeofinsanity
Rating: R (for gore, some language and implied sexual content)
Word Count: 12,370 (bitches )
Kink: Endearments, loss of control, magical themes...
Fandoms: Supernatural/The Dresden Files
Pairing: Harry/Bob, Harry/Sam, Sam/Dean
Summary: “We’re asking for help from a wizard who advertises in the yellowpages? ”
Thanks To: My lovely betas: thebunnybag , asexyzombie , rayn_firehawk and sixthbrightest
Artist: aramuin , thank you so much for the AMAZING art.
Notes: I hate Season Four Ruby. I hate her. This is your only warning. Also, the kinks are kind of hidden. Have fun finding them.
Part One
The Tree
The shadow blended in with the trees. Almost too well, the blanket covered figure, toting something too large and gangly for its height, danced around the monkeybars and the swing set of a park. The moon was full, but it shed no light on the cloaked beings face. It was just darkness inset upon darkness.
There was a tree, much larger than the others, a red x drawn into its thick bark. The figure stumbled and nearly fell into the hole that had been dug before the great tree. It swore, its voice lost on the sudden wind, and it visibly shivered, dropping its burden into the hole. The plastic bag crinkled loudly in the silence, and when it landed, parts - body parts - spilled out onto the damp ground.
Damp ground made damper by blood. An arm, a torso, all carved up and flayed as though someone had stripped the meat from the bones immediately gathered flies despite the late hour. The only part of the body that hadn’t been completely mutilated was the head - the head of a very small, underfed boy.
When the cloaked figure began to push the dirt back, filling the hole, the head was the first thing it covered. Slowly, laboriously, the figure began to layer in the dirt. Once a few inches had been laid down, she took off the blanket and laid down over the boy.
She worked the rest of the night in silence but for the sound of her harsh breathing.
In the morning, no one noticed the over turned dirt. No one noticed a dark haired woman leaving the park with a red ribbon tied around her neck.
They did, however, notice that the dead tree which had been scheduled for demolition had bloomed, and the scent of juniper blossoms floated out over the city.
-
Harry Dresden was not having a good day. His phone had rung at almost six in the morning, a time he generally didn’t see much of, and in his vast irritation at Murphy, the coffee maker had fizzled out. Mister didn’t seem to be around either.
Though the morning was beyond salvaging as money was tight and Dunkin Donuts was too expensive even for him, he met Murphy at the address she gave him. At first, it looked there was nothing wrong - the house he pulled up to wasn’t closed off by CAUTION tape, nor were there copious amounts of policemen milling around. Just Murphy.
And Kirmani.
It was always Kirmani.
“What the hell is he doing here?” the aforementioned Kirmani demanded of a tense eyed Murphy.
“Hey Murph,” he said, ignoring her boisterous partner. “What d’you got for me?”
She jerked her head at the house. “Missing kid.” Harry immediately felt her tension descend on him, missing children were always hard on the precinct, and Murphy had a nine year old at home.
“Why’d SI get it?” he asked, honestly curious.
Still tense, Murphy replied, “third one this week.”
That was a sobering thought and Harry asked no more questions, allowing himself to be led into the immaculate living room of a lawyer and his wife. The wife was crying silently into a handkerchief while her husband stood in the window gazing out without listening to or speaking with the policemen chattering nervously near by. “Mr. Alloui,” Murphy murmured respectively, “Mrs. Alloui, I have someone who may be able to help.”
Harry nodded to the man who stared impassively at him, and the wife lunged to her feet to grab at Harry’s lapels. “Please ” she gasped, “you have to find his son ”
Harry cleared his throat. “His?” he asked, hating himself when the man stiffened and left the room shortly. “Not yours?”
Still sniffling, the woman shook her head. “No, no, Cavin was a product of Louis’ first marriage...she died, and when I married Louis...he acted out, hated our new born daughter...” she sniffled again. “I just want him to come home safely. For Louis’ sake.”
A child of a deceased mother himself, Harry’s lip almost curled in a snarl. He hated women who preyed on men who were still
mourning. Catching Murphy’s warning look, Harry cleared his throat. “Ma’am, do you have something of Cavin’s?” he asked as politely as he was able. “It may make my search a little easier.”
She thought for a moment, and when she lifted her head to look through a door, Harry’s gaze was immediately drawn to the red ribbon around her neck. In the light it almost looked like...Patricia Alloui abruptly stood and left the room and Harry lost the train of thought.
When she returned, she handed him a small plastic toy car. One of the NASCAR series ones, and it had clearly been loved and seen far better days. “This will do nicely,” he said. “Thank you.”
Harry eyed the door before looking at Murphy significantly. They said their good byes and the minute they were back to the cars, Murphy looked at Harry. “Dresden,” she said evenly, “what did you see?”
“The woman is hiding something,” Harry said immediately. “She couldn’t even look at her husband, or you and I at all.” Murphy nodded, she had noticed the same thing. “She kept playing with the red ribbon around her neck,” he added. “And in some lights...it looked like blood.” She looked surprised, that one she hadn’t noticed.
“The car,” she said, gesturing. “Are you going to use it to track him?” Harry nodded. “Will you be able to tell that he’s alive?” He nodded again. “How?”
“I’ll still have the car at the end of the spell,” he said, only half joking.
Of course, when he got back to the lab, and threw together the tracking spell, and the crystal exploded with green, black and red flames, he knew that there was going to be trouble.
The little car, melted plastic and metal sat in a blackened pool at the bottom of the calcinator.
“Harry?” Bob asked, from behind him.
“He’s dead, Bob.” Harry turned around and looked at his old friend. “Some one killed that little boy.”
At a loss, unable to help him, Bob said, “Harry, it’s not your fault. There was nothing you could do.”
With a derisive chuckle, Harry agreed. “Yeah, it’s not my fault. But I’m the one who has to tell Murphy that.”
*
“Hey Dean,” Sam said. “I think I got something.” Dean grunted. “Dean ” The brother in question started counting silently in his head, and as soon as he got to three, he ducked the pelted pillow. “Jerk Pay attention ”
“Bitch, I am ” He rolled over to look at his younger brother. “What have you got, Sammy?”
Sam launched into a narrative about a serial killing of small boys in a small suburb of Chicago, and how closely it reminded him of the Grimms’ Fairytale caper with the girl like Snow White.
Dean interrupted. “If there’s only been three deaths, how are you finding out this shit about the fairytales?”
“Ash was in Chicago the other day,” Sam answered. “He and Jo talked to a few of the water pixes, one of them, named Toot-Toot told him so.” Dean made a face. “Water sprites can’t lie, and they bribed him with pizza.”
“So you want to go?” Dean asked, after debating on whether to question his brother about the pizza information.
Sam nodded. “We’ll have to get some help though, Chicago is a big place and...” he tossed an ad from a yellowpages at Dean. “And he’ll make it easier.”
Distinctly unimpressed, Dean shouted after his retreating brother, “we’re asking for help from a wizard who is in the yellowpages?”
Sam waved a hand at him before disappearing into the bathroom. “Call him ” Dean was instructed. “Just tell him that you’re Sam Winchesters brother. He’ll know me.”
Dutifully, Dean dialed the number, and the other end began to ring. It rang about five times before an out of breath voice answered, “Harry Dresden.”
“Uh. Hi, Mr. Dresden, my name is Dean Winchester...and...” he was interrupted before he could say anything else.
“Sam’s brother?” was the response. “Hell I haven’t heard from him in too long. He’s all right?”
The man’s voice was warm, and carried a smile in it, and Dean had to wonder at how they met. “Yeah he’s fine...he told me to call you...’cause...we’re going to be in Chicago in a few days.”
Harry’s voice lowered significantly. “On a Hunt?”
“Y-Yeah,” Dean answered. “How do you know Sam?” he finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
Dresden chuckled, the sound low across the line. “He managed to get into Chicago before going off to Standford, lost his ticket for the bus and tried to hitch-hike. I picked him up and it’s probably a good thing I did because Chicago isn’t nice.” He laughed again. “Kid was adorable, so I’m glad he found you again.”
Sam walked out of the bedroom and snagged Dean’s cell from him. “Hey Harry,” he said into it. “Sorry I haven’t called.” He grinned at whatever the other man said. “I still say you should get a computer and live in the technological age.” There was a pause where Harry was clearly saying something. “We’ll be there in a few days. Tell Bob I said hi.” He hung up the phone and handed it back. “You ready, bro?”
“Yeah...” Dean murmured, eyeing the phone, and feeling something he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Jealousy.
*
Harry laid the old rotary phone in the cradle of the handle and turned back to Bob. “Thanks for making me get this,” he said, and Bob raised a sardonic eyebrow. “It was Sam. Winchester.”
“I remember Sam,” Bob said with a grin. “Is he coming here?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, him and his brother. They’ve got a case.” He leaned back in his rickety old desk chair. “And Sam still owes me that spell - the one that’ll make me not kill every appliance in this place.” Bob smiled a little and leaned over Harry. “What?” he said, inelegantly.
“You missed him,” Bob said smugly. “I told you not to let him go.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Harry muttered. “Once again, you prove your omnipotence, Oh great Hrothbert of Bainbridge and you were right.”
The ghost in question snickered. “That is what I like to hear,” he murmured. “But, your knight in shining armor is coming back.”
Harry nodded absently, staring at the phone. Finally, he picked it up and waving Bob silent with one hand, began to dial Murphy’s number. It clicked to voicemail, and Harry said, “hey Murph, it’s me, come see me when you get this.”
It wasn’t something he wanted to tell her over the phone. “I am sorry though,” Bob said after he hung up, “about the boy.”
“Yeah, me too,” the wizard breathed, leaning back again in the seat and scrubbing at his face with his hands. “Kid cases are never easy. Especially when they end up dead.”
Bob somehow managed to portray the illusion of leaning against something, and asked, “do you think this is a serial killer or something supernatural?”
Harry shook his head. “I have no idea. If the kid was alive, that would be another story.”
“Hmm...” the ghost mused. “Have you thought of trying to find the body? Though the child himself is dead, there should be some remains.”
The idea had merit, and Harry dumped out the remains of the crystal into the palm of his hand. With a flick of a finger, he unrolled the map of Chicago and blew lightly on the broken, slightly black shards.
They flew out over the city and froze over three separate spots. A building in the skyscraper district - which was, on closer inspection, the work place of Louis Alloui, the suburbs, where Patricia Alloui was a homemaker, and one of the parks in downtown Chicago.
That wasn’t strange at all.
“Oh dear,” Bob murmured. “That means nothing good.”
The last time he’d had a reading like that...now there was something else he had to tell Murphy.
None of it was good.
*
By the time Dean parked the Impala in one of the underground garages close to Harry Dresden’s place, Sam was bouncing. Legitimately bouncing. “Sammy, I am going to cut them off if you keep jiggling your fucking leg ”
Sheepishly, Sam stilled his movements, and didn’t bother to correct Dean on his name. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, you will be,” was the lame comeback, but Sam was already opening the door and halfway out of the Impala.
Dean didn’t jog to catch up to him, though he wanted to, and when he finally did - they were already in front of Harry Dresden’s home and office. Sam opened the door and barreled in, and Dean was treated to the rare sight of Sam being happy. His grin was wide and infectious because the two people in the room were grinning too, and he was hugging the brunet tightly. “Sam,” he said warmly. “I’m glad you could make it.”
Sam pulled away from the embrace. “You too, Har. Bob.” He turned to the other man in the room and held up a hand, instead of hugging him too. The tall pale, white haired man placed his own palm against Sam’s, causing gold sparks of light to flicker. “Glad to see you’re still in one piece.” He winked, pulling his hand away. “I’d be very upset with Harry should he drop you.”
“I would never ” Harry protested. He turned to Dean. “Hi, sorry, you must be Dean. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He had a strong handshake and a catching grin.
“None of its true,” the elder Winchester said immediately. “Sammy over embellishes.” Sam snorted. “Because you didn’t run screaming from a house cat.”
Shooting his brother a look that promised to kill, Dean replied, “I didn’t run,” very primly.
Harry snickered, and just as he opened his mouth to reply his old rotary phone rang. His face immediately sobered and Bob motioned the two brothers silent. Harry lifted the receiver very carefully, and keeping his tone neutral said, “Dresden.”
Tinnily, through the old speaker Dean could hear a abrasive female voice. “Dresden, what have you got for me?”
“Why don’t you come in, Murph. It’s...not good.”
There was a long silence, and she said, “he’s dead?”
Harry hesitated, then added, “yes...and there’s more.”
They exchanged times and Harry hung up the phone. Everyone was very quiet and finally Dean asked, “how come you have a rotary phone?”
Sam snorted, Bob covered his smile with one hand, and Harry scowled at them both. “My magic tends to knock newer electronics out. Usually completely.” He continued to glare at the comedic duo in the corner before he finally turned to Bob. “Why don’t you take Dean down into the Lab and show him the summoning circle. Explain to him what he’ll need to summon one of the fairies from the Nevernever in order to catch whatever it is they’re Hunting.”
“Of course, Harry.” Bob gestured to Dean who followed more out of curiosity than any real desire to leave Sam with the strange wizard. “I apologize in advance Mr. Winchester, but you’ll have to open the door for me. I cannot effect the material plane.” And with that, the mysteriously dressed “Bob” vanished through the wall.
The second Harry heard the Lab door swing closed, he turned to Sam. “All right, truth,” he said, but was cut off before he could say more.
“Truth later, kissing now,” Sam murmured, and kissed him deeply. He was taller than Harry by at least four inches, and he tilted the older man’s head back, pulling him in close.
Harry’s eyes fluttered shut and he murmured between kisses, “what about Dean...and, Bob?”
Sam skated his lips over Harry’s cheek, over his jawline and down his neck. “Like Bob didn’t watch us half the time anyway.”
When the kiss tapered off, Harry leaned his forehead against Sam’s. “Stars and stones, I missed you, Sam,” he murmured. “I’m glad you got your shit together.”
The door jingled open and Sam backed off quickly. “Me too,” he said, with a grin. “I’ll go join my brother.”
When Harry turned to face the newcomer, Murphy stood in the door way, one eyebrow raised. “That was Sam, wasn’t it?” she asked her voice non-committal. “He’s back in town?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah...he and his brother, actually.”
“Awkward?” she asked insightfully.
“A little,” he responded. They were silent for a long moment before the shine of one of his crystals caught his attention. “Here, this is what I wanted to show you.” He gathered up the broken pieces and displayed them on the palm of his hand. “This is the crystal I used to try and find Cavin Alloui. It exploded, meaning that the boy is dead.” Murphy cursed under her breath. “But B-I had an idea, the boy was dead but he must have left something behind, residue or a body, so I used this to find them. Watch.”
Just like before, the three crystal shards floated rapidly over the map and fixated, slightly rotating over roughly the same buildings as before. She stared at it. “What does that even mean?”
“It means,” Harry said, his voice weighted, “that his body is in three different places.”
*
Bob smiled warmly when Sam clambered down the steps into the lab. A half finished design was already painted in the air and Dean’s head shot up. “Don’t walk through the incantation, or he’ll start singing sixteenth century show tunes ” he warned hastily. “You think he’s joking? He’s not ”
Mildly, skirting the gold glittery writing, Sam asked, “did you manage already to do that in the ten minutes we left you here?” Dean winced and nodded. “Good going, jerk.”
“Shut up, bitch,” was the muffled response as Dean continued to copy down the summoning incantation they would need.
Bob raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment at the vocabulary. “Did Lt. Murphy arrive?” he asked, talking in a low tone.
“Yes,” Sam answered. “She’s not happy.”
The ghost winced. “I can’t imagine she could be. The death of children is always hard for adults to bear. But, with The Professor’s help, we should find out why the crystal is broken up into three pieces.”
“I thought cannibalism,” Dean offered from the floor.
“You’re probably right. Not about that symbol on the left, but your theory has merit,” Bob told him.
Dean paused, turned, looked at the symbol he had etched in careful charcoal, swore and erased it with his hand. “Shit How do you do this all the time, Sam?”
“Practice,” the brother and the ghost said together. Dean’s face wrinkled up in a moue of irritation and he just went back down to continue fixing the summoning circle.
Roughly ten minutes later, Harry clattered down the steps, walking through the glowing words without pause or comment. Dean let loose a low moan of disappointment which turned into an irritated growl when both Sam and Bob burst into song. The same song. Harry just chuckled, and with a quick gesture of his staff, the Circle was finished. “I’d wait for you to start again, but we don’t have that kind of time.”
Bob took that moment to disappear back into his skull, the sockets glowing merrily for a moment before fading completely. Harry, Sam and Dean took point around the circle and Harry cast the first Name.
The creature they summoned was not what either Dean or Sam were expecting. The Professor was a wrinkled, purple skinned gnome with leathery wings and fine wire rimmed glasses on his ugly hooked nose. He turned luminous yellow eyes to the three men. “My, my, my, Harry Blackstone Dresden, you have brought me guests. What sort of information do you require?”
Sam stepped forward. “It was me who summoned you. It is me you will answer to.”
The creature exchanged a look with Harry. “Young, is he? Very well then,” it continued in a fine British accent. “What is it you require, Nameless Boy?”
“I require information on a little boy, Cavin Alloui - we know he’s dead and believe he is in three different places.” Sam swallowed hard when the yellow flickering eyes of The Professor landed on him. “I wish to know why that is.”
“Three different informations. Three different Names.” The Professor said, grinning. “If one of them is Dresden’s last Name, I’ll give you a two for one.”
“One Name,” Sam said. “And I want to know about the Crystal in the park.”
“Oh very well, spoil sport.” The Professor waved a hand and just inside the Summoning Circle a large picture formulated. A blossoming juniper tree with freshly turned earth around it was there. “Find this tree, find the boys body. Most of it.” It grinned, showing off wide, sharp needle like teeth. “And this for bonus, the Crystal in Alloui’s building? He ate his own son and didn’t even know it ” the creature hooted with laughter while the humans looked vaguely ill. “Your name, Boy?”
Sam drew in a deep breath. “Sam.”
The Professor grinned another dangerous grin. “Is that short for Samuel or Samantha?” The youngest Winchester stared him down. “Oh, never fear, Samuel. I know who you are. You were Azazel’s boy. Do take care,” he warned him. “You don’t know what you seek if you take on this entity alone.”
A crackle, then The Professor was gone.
Harry sighed heavily. “All right. I’ll check out the tree tonight. Sam, Dean, you go to the Alloui’s - take one of the Crystal shards with you, better yet, take two. See where they lead you. And um...don’t pretend to be police officers. Murph will kill you slowly.”
“Be careful,” Sam said with weight.
“You know me,” was the customary answer as Harry grabbed his trench, his staff and his blasting rod on the way out of the lab. “Don’t wait up if you come home first, Sam.”
Dean looked at his brother. “Ready, Sammy?”
“...Yeah.” He shook himself, smudging out the summoning circle. “Lets go.”
*
It wasn’t an ordinary tree. The red X that had been spray painted on was bubbling, paint dripping down the angry looking bark in bloody lines. The freshly turned over earth was shaking minutely, almost as if the tree was breathing.
Well. He’d seen The Last Unicorn more than four times. He wasn’t getting close enough to the tree for it to do anything unsavory. Until he stepped on the mud around it. The tree’s leaves all twitched, giving the canopy the image of a lion shaking out its mane. And, straight out of the movie he still refused to watch, the juniper tree pulled a Whomping Willow. Harry was flung halfway across the park, using his Shield bracelet to take the brunt of the force. When he was back up on his feet, he hefted his staff and shouted, “fuego!”
But the tree shook off the fire spell like it was made of water. A slight fizzling noise and the smell of burned moss was all that was left within seconds. Tactic two: “ventas servitas!” the wind kicked up around him, protecting him from the onslaught of branches but he was unable to get close enough to the trunk to do any lasting damage.
If he was outside the ring of mud, he was safe, the tree would settle down, but he got the sense that it was waiting. Sensing. Preparing.
“You don’t have some sort of special knot to render you useless, do you?” he muttered, rubbing the ache in his ribs from the first hit he took. The tree shivered, long branches reaching out in a surprisingly cat like stretch.
Aiming at the red X, Harry shouted, “forzare!” the punch of invisible force plowed through the branches and leaves to hit home. A nearly inhuman shriek filled the air, and the X opened up just a little, just enough for him to see the face inside the bark.
It was definitely Cavin Alloui.
*End
| Part Two| Part Three | Part Four |