Darkness Falling Pt 4a GEN
Darkness Falling Pt 4
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Gen
Warnings: Violence, strong language
Sam hurried back into the house, digging wildly through the duffle bag he carried. When he had John's journal he ran back to the garage. Quickly Sam slapped the journal down on the shelf motioning Dean and Maggie over. He tapped a finger against the sketch of the logo on the werewolves' jackets.
"See this mark; it was sewn onto the jackets that the bikers were wearing."
Maggie glanced down at the book.
"Bikers?"
Dean nodded,
"Yeah, when we got to the cemetery in Chelsea there were two bikers staking out Dad's grave. Sam and I got the impression that they might have been looking for us. They were wearing jackets with this logo on them."
Maggie nodded then turned back to the body lying on the cement floor of the garage.
"Look, the shape-shifter has a tattoo on his back. It's the same mark. The bikers used their logo as a summoning and binding mark to keep the shifter in line, to make it do what they wanted it to do."
"Like take Dad's place at the hospital?" Sam asked.
Maggie glanced up at him from under her bangs. She shrugged, but Dean stooped down settling on his heels, looking in her face.
"Maggie please, if you think that the shape-shifter could have taken Dad's place, after he made his deal you've got to tell me."
Sam flinched, “Dean why would the demon do that?"
Maggie took a deep breath.
"Just a thought of mine, but if John traded his soul for Dean's life, the demon might not have been able to collect. It was an act of sacrifice in the cause of good, if the demon stripped John's soul from his body he’d go up not down. The demon might have walked into a trap that John set for it. Dean gets to live and the demon can't collect…"
Sam nodded, “That would be just like Dad. He always had a plan for everything."
"So what?" Dean said, "The demon couldn't take Dad's soul so he had the shape-shifter take Dad's place so we'd think he was dead?"
"Yeah, that way you wouldn’t go looking for him, and then the demon could have John taken somewhere, torture him a while try to break John down so he’d cut another deal to end the pain."
"And the bikers, the werewolves, they have Dad somewhere?" Dean asked.
Maggie shrugged again.
"Do you think they'd have turned him?" Sam asked quietly.
Maggie shook he head. But Dean interrupted her before she could answer.
"No, the demon wouldn't let them turn him. He'd be less of a trophy if he was a werewolf, damaged goods. They couldn't do anything too drastic. They couldn't do any major damage either, because he might die without cutting a deal. But they'd make him suffer,” he said.
Maggie nodded,
"Yeah, that's what I think. The werewolves could have John in their den; they've had six months to work on him. I think that the demon would have had them work him over, keep him in pain and try to break him so that he would trade his soul to get the demon just to end it."
Dean grimaced.
"They'd have a hell of time getting Dad to break. He wouldn't do it."
"He might if they brought in other shifters that looked like you boys, hurt them enough and he'd cave," Maggie said, "After all, look at what the demon did to you boys, making you think that John was dead, and, God forbid, he might be dead now. All I know for sure is that the body you got from the morgue and burned was not your father."
"So how do we go about finding out where they have Dad?” Sam asked.
Dean sighed, "First things first, we salt and burn this shifter. Then we research this as quickly as we can."
"We'll call around, go through every contact in your Dad's journal and mine. I'm willing to bet that Bobby Singer will know something about the symbol. He primarily deals with demons, but he knows a hell of a lot about werewolves, too."
Sam pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.
"I'm going to take a picture of the mark on the shifter's back. We'll send that to Bobby and see if he knows anything about the bikers, werewolves, what ever…"
Dean nodded,
"That's a good idea. If he can identify the gang then we can find out where they tend to hole up. See if we can find Dad there."
Maggie touched his arm.
"Look if you boys go after John I want to go with you."
"Aunt Maggie," Dean said quietly, "You can't hunt not on your bum leg."
"It's not that bad. I'm either going with you or I'm going to follow you, take your pick."
Sam smiled, "Let's just take care of one thing at a time. I'm going to download this picture to my laptop and e-mail Bobby."
"Aunt Maggie and I'll take care of the shifter."
Dinner had been consumed on the porch without much fanfare and in silence. It was just after sundown when Sam's cell phone rang. Dean and Maggie stared at him when he answered.
"Sure Bobby, okay…that's great. I'll tell the others. Dean and I will get over there as quick as possible, and we're bringing someone. I don't know if you remember Aunt Maggie. I'll tell 'em."
Maggie sat her coffee cup on the table.
"So did he find them?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, "It's a biker gang. They're pretty well known in Chelsea and the area around Lawrence. Get this… they call themselves the Wolf Pack. Take about originality."
Dean grinned, the first true smile Sam had seen on his brother's face since the hospital.
"Hey, they're werewolves not brain surgeons."
"He's going to stake out the area that they tend to hunt in, and see if he can come up with a place that they might have a prisoner. It'd have to be somewhere out of sight so they could work on him without being interrupted."
"That's it then," Dean said slapping his hand down on the table, "We're leaving in the morning."
They took turns driving and made it to Kansas with only a few short stops along the way. By the time that they rolled into Bobby's place they were worn thin, snapping at each other and barely holding on. Bobby met them at the door. When they were settled with cups of strong coffee Bobby slapped a map on the table and motioned to the cemetery.
"This is where you boys buried John, maybe. I spent yesterday staking out the place and sure enough two bikers showed up at the grave. I'd say those boys were tying to keep you two away from the place. I followed them and they have an old shack in the forest not more than a mile from the gravesite. There's a lot of activity in the place for it to be so out of the way. There are two guards on the front door all the time that I could see. I can't say how many more are inside. But I heard noises too, screaming. So something's going on in there, and they don't want folks to know about it."
Dean half rose out of his seat.
"Then let's get over there."
"Now hold on, boy. We're not going over there half-cocked. I did manage to get us a little fire power, and some silver ammo to go with it. But we got to have a plan. Nobody gets hurt on our side."
"As long as we take out as many of the bastards as we can. I'm all for any plan you come up with," Dean said with a smirk.
Sam flinched he had come to hate that expression in the past six months. He held up a hand motioning his brother back into the chair.
“Just slow down, Dean. We’ll get there.”
Nodding Bobby said, "Well, the lunar cycle is with us. We won't have to worry about them turning. But we'll have to put them down, human or not. Show no mercy 'cause these boys'll come after us and John too, if he's still alive."
"Aunt Maggie, no offense, but you just can't keep up with us on this one. Won’t you reconsider coming?" Sam asked.
Maggie frowned but Bobby interrupted.
"She can stay with the car. In any extraction you leave someone to watch the vehicles. Maggie can stay with the car and keep the engine running if we need to leave in a hurry."
She nodded.
"I'll do that."
"All right, I got something for all of us," Bobby said smiling. Reaching behind the table he slapped an M-16 on the surface. "There's one of each of us."
Maggie took the gun from Bobby with a grimace. She held it aloft checking the action. With a sigh she let it drop.
“Cheap ass American made guns. These things over-heat and jam. John would have gotten us Uzis.”
Bobby winced.
“Hey don’t bitch at me, woman. I did the best I could on short notice.”
Sam frowned at his aunt.
“Come on, Aunt Maggie give him a break.”
She flinched blushing and then turned to Bobby.
“I’m sorry. When I get nervous I shoot my mouth off.”
Dean waited until Bobby and Sam had moved away before grasping his aunt’s shoulder gently in one hand. He smiled at her.
“Dad would have gotten us Uzis,” he whispered.
They parked the Impala just down the road from q dilapidate little shack that was no more than two rooms. From his vantage point on the peak of a small hill Dean could see two men sitting on the porch of the building, smoking and talking. They sat, feet hanging off the steps with beer bottles by their side and guns settled across their laps.
That didn't mean that there wasn't someone inside, but they'd have to take that chance. Bobby and Sam had done a slow circuit around the place to locate all the entrances and exits and come back with the information that there was only one door, the one they were looking at. The one guarded by the two bikers. The room at the rear of the house was boarded up tight, no one in or out.
Maggie stood beside the driver's side door, gun propped against her hip, watching as the three men moved silently down the path toward the house. She glanced inside the car looking at the keys hanging in the ignition and cocked her head listening for any sound that anyone was approaching from the road outside.
Bobby waved Dean around to take point. Sam veered off the path and headed around to the left side of the porch and Bobby moved right. The two men on the porch made no overt movements, but Dean knew that werewolves had extraordinary good hearing, and were probably already aware that they were coming.
Glancing to the right Dean pulled the gun up and raised a hand. He fired one short burst toward the house, hitting one of the men driving his body back and against the wall. The second biker lurched to his feet as Bobby rose up. The clatter of automatic gun fire filled the air. The biker managed to duck and roll across the porch struggling to his knees and drawing his own gun. Before he could fire Sam stood up pulling the trigger. The hail of silver bullets cut the biker in half at the waist. His head and shoulders dropped to one side and his lower torso slid down the stairs.
Dean kicked the biker's body off the stairs as Sam jumped onto the porch from the side. Bobby waited back turned to the building scanning the horizon for some sign of movement. He didn't see the third man step around the side of the house, gun raised.
"Bobby!" Sam shouted.
The big man whirled as Dean drew a bead on the biker and squeezed the trigger. A short burst of gunfire rattled the air, and the biker was flung against the wall sliding down to the ground, awash in his own blood.
"Thanks, boys," Bobby said with a grin.
Dean shrugged.
"No problem, man."
The sound of gunfire from the direction of the house caught Maggie's attention. She gripped the butt of the M-16 tighter wanting desperately to go to the aid of the others. But truthfully she knew that her leg wouldn't hold if they were in a close up firefight and needed to move quickly.
Suddenly she turned; a motorcycle was coming down the road. She cocked the gun and felt it jam.
"Shit," she hissed.
Quickly Maggie dropped the gun into the back seat of the car pulling out her cane. The bike rounded the curve of the road and pulled to a halt. The biker glared at her letting the engine on the Harley idle.
"You should have stayed out of this, bitch."
Grinning he cut the engine and stepped off the bike. Maggie held her ground only moving a little ways away from the car, giving herself room to work. The man licked his lips.
"For an old broad you ain't bad, maybe you'll be more fun than he was. Your gonna scream like he did though…"
"On a cold day in hell," Maggie said grinning back.
He leaned back pulling a switch-blade out of one pocket.
"I'm going to cut you in a hundred pieces, listen to every little whimper you make and then I'm going kill you."
Maggie stepped forward pressing a button on the side of the cane. A foot of silver-plated stainless steel leapt out. She lunged forward, and the biker coughed looking down at the blade sticking in his belly. With a vicious grin Maggie jerked the cane up, stepping back as his guts spilled out on the ground.
She stood over his body, as the light faded from his eyes she said, "One thing you should learn, honey, is if you're going to kill somebody… you kill them. You don't stand there talking about it."