SPN Casefic R: Double Trouble
Title: Double Trouble
Genre: SPN Casefic
People: Sam and Dean
Rating: R - a few bad words
Word Count: 7,000 ish
Summary: The Brothers Winchester find themselves investigating some freaky incidents at a day care in Missouri. Dean tries his best to avoid vulgarities while getting up close and personal with the education system, and Sam solves the case via crappy movies-of-the-week.
Notes: Carries on from Long Train Running, but is more of an insert as it doesn't mean alllllll too much in the grand scheme of things (yes, there is more casefic, oh my word, I need to wrap it up so it stops hogging my brain). Title from Eric Clapton "Double Trouble."
Disclaimer: Absolutely a figment of my imagination
Elwood, Missouri
At the Sunny Days Child Care Center, children played their way through the afternoon break. They climbed on the jungle gym, shrieked down the slide, and clapped their way through playground songs.
Two girls, both blonde and porcelain faced, and both sporting carefully crafted braids at the nape of their necks, cheerily sang out while other children ran around the fenced-in yard. Happy and bright eyed.
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man.
Bake me a cake as fast as you can.
Miss Janice crossed her arms with a smile, watching the children at play. Her cool, yet casual wardrobe betrayed her position as a day care worker, but the little ones continually built up her heart to massive warmth. One little snot-nosed boy - literally, there were slimy boogers creeping their way down his lip, which is something she hadn’t quiet imagined when she first started her childcare certification, but it was too late now to go back - came up screeching. “Miss Janice! Miss Janice! Allison quit our game ‘n ran ‘way again!”
She smiled despite his tattling and did her best to reprimand. “Robby, if Allison doesn’t want to play anymore, then you can keep playing, right?”
He pouted more. “But she left.” Miss Janice scanned the yard for the little redhead before looking to Robby, who started whining again. “She ran in dere!” He pointed at the building.
Miss Janice frowned and walked back to the day care center, where children weren’t allowed without supervision during outdoor breaks.
Noises went on around her as she passed a few boys chasing each other up and down the stairs leading to the slide, a girl chasing another around the fireman’s pole, and the twins chanting and clapping again.
When she got inside, she called out for Allison, but got no reply. She checked the coat room, but still nothing. Then she found the most peculiar smell in the air and made her way through the kindergarten room and into the kitchen.
A moment of pause to really take in the scene did nothing to squelch her screams, for they came loud and long and horrified. When Miss Lisa ran to the scene, she, too, screamed. For they found Allison’s legs dangling out the oven, scratches marking her skin in various lines of no meaning, and absolutely unmoving.
*
The Impala sped its way across the pitch black interstate, blaring James Gang’s Funk 49. Out all night, sleep all day. I know what you're doing.
Dean took his eyes from the road for a second to eye Sam, whose own eyes were glued to his cell phone. “Tetris?”
“Hmm?” Sam sounded without looking up, tapping his fingers on the keyboard.
“You know, that little block game? Didn’t it turn 25 last year?”
He flashed Dean a strange glance before looking back out the window, cell phone in his hand. A few moments later, it buzzed to life, lighting up Sam’s half of the front seat.
“Is there a massive cell phone revolt I should know about? Is my phone safe from the fight?”
Another weird look and he tucked his phone away.
“Alright, so what’s the story?”
“Uh, Elwood, Missouri,” Sam started before straightening his legs. They had been on the road for well over eight hours with only one break lasting longer than taking a piss. Somehow, he had thought driving from Chicago to Eastern Pennsylvania was bad for their last job, but Pennsylvania to Missouri was really wearing him down. “Allison Moore was found in a day care unconscious. She’s been in a coma the past two days with no signs of medical problems. They have no evidence of anything else.”
They both heard the slight buzz in his pocket, but neither said a word. Dean was growing so impatient with the phone and Sam constantly playing with it. With a huff, he crabbed, “Sam, I swear to God I will chuck that phone out the damn window.”
Sam gave his own sigh but was trying to ignore the phone.
Dean let it drop, and continued with the original conversation. “If there’s no foul play, what’re we looking at?”
He pulled out a file from his bag, glancing through printed news stories he’d picked up at their last stop. “For one, her legs were all marked up.”
“Don’t they get scratched once in a while?”
Sam stared at his brother, who stared in return.
“What?”
“You say it like you don’t know what kids are.”
“I know what kids are!” Dean complained.
Sam’s voice went hard. “Yes, Dean, they get scratched up sometimes. Damn.”
“Aww, Sammy, did someone piss in your cereal?”
“What? No.” After a few moments, Sam muttered, “You’re the one being the jerk.”
“What?” Dean demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Bitch.”
“So original.”
Dean gave a sarcastic smile. “Well, this ride will be fun.”
*
Sam and Dean arrived at Sunny Days the next morning, claiming to be FBI, specializing in children’s cases. Kids were playing as they always had, running up and down the jungle gym, sliding their way down the fireman’s pole, and climbing across the monkey bars.
The twin blonde girls ran right in Dean’s path, forcing him to the side and knocking his hip into the corner of the water fountain. “Damnit!” Dean muttered, but it was loud enough for the two to look back at him, smiling wide and giggling.
“Language,” Miss Lisa reprimanded as she appeared at his side.
“Sh - ” Dean started to curse again (he had to admit that it really did hurt, but he could be better than that). He stopped when he caught her delicate, pretty face, and gave a quick apology before straightening himself out. “I’m fine,” he smiled, taking in her smooth skin and long blonde hair.
Sam rolled his eyes as he watched Dean get into his “Dean” mode and try to impress her. His phone sounded, bringing him away from the conversation and to type out a message before Dean cleared his throat. When Sam looked up, Dean nudged his head towards the woman, signaling that they had to listen to her.
Miss Lisa spoke again. “I came in after I heard Miss Janice screaming. Allison was in the oven.”
Both Sam and Dean gave surprised, awkward glances before looking at each other and back to her.
“Yeah,” she sighed, crossing her arms tight. “It was open, but her legs were out, and she was scratched up so badly.” She sighed and nearly shivered at the memory.
Dean stepped closer, placing a delicate hand at her arm. “I’m sorry. I know this must’ve been terrible to see.”
Miss Lisa nodded carefully, watching him. “I had to pull her out of there. She was … she.” Another big breath. “She wasn’t moving.”
As tears broke at her eyes, Dean pulled her closer, rubbing at her back and murmuring encouragement.
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed together at the scene. Well, apparently Dean was up to the task of being the resident comforter. Sam’s mouth twitched a tiny bit before he spoke up. “Her legs?” The two broke apart and watched him, Dean quite perturbed. “You said there were scratches?”
“Yeah, just all over her legs and arms.”
“Did you see anything this morning? Did she have any marks like that before?”
“No,” she insisted, shaking her head quickly. “I’d never seen anything like that with Allison. She has the sweetest parents, they adore that girl.”
Dean’s interest grew in the woman as he stepped closer, using a low voice to fake his way as a serious person and ask her more questions. At that point, Sam checked through the yard, watching all the kids playing and just trying to reason what on earth had caused that girl to climb into the oven. Let alone left all those scratches. His eyes caught the twins in the corner, playing on their own, happily clapping their way through yet another game.
Miss Suzie had a tugboat
The tugboat had a bell
Miss Suzie went to heaven
The tugboat went to
Hello operator …
He smiled just a crack, partly at the girls’ little game and intended swear word, but also internally wishing he’d had his own childhood in a place like this. Children running around, climbing and chasing, all with fun. Not because they were running from a great evil with their father and brother. His mind continued wandering as he watched the kids, finally bringing his sights back to Dean, who was doing his best to fully hit on Miss Lisa.
Dean nodded his head towards her. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to need your information.” His voice went playful. “You know, in case we have more questions.”
Again, Sam’s face screwed up while he looked away. He had no problem knowing his brother chased every piece of tail they crossed, but he kind of hated watching it.
Miss Lisa nodded then began a gentle smile, sort of catching on to him. “Yes, of course. I’m not real clear right now. I’m sure it will come back to me later.” She moved closer, sliding her hand beneath his, which held the pad of paper and pen with which he took notes. She carefully wrote her name and number, brushing closely to Dean, which then forced his face into a sly smile.
Okay, Sam really hated watching it.
As they walked towards the gate, Dean smacked at Sam’s shoulder. “Hot damn, I love teachers.”
A little boy ran by, repeating him. “Damn!”
Another worker called out angrily, shooting them both a soured glance. “Language!”
Sam laughed at Dean as her hurried to the Impala before he were reprimanded more. He was still smiling when they settled in the front seat.
“It’s not that funny,” Dean grumbled.
Continuing to be amused, Sam’s amusement grew. “I don’t know. It seems pretty funny from here.”
“Whatever.”
“You pretty scared of those teachers?”
“No,” he crabbed while pulling away from the day care and heading towards their hotel.
Sam shifted to face him and put on a satisfied smile. “I bet you can’t go this entire case without swearing in front of those kids.”
He scoffed. “Of course I could.”
“Try it.”
Another scoff.
Sam’s smile broadened. “See, you know you can’t.”
“I can, I just choose not to.”
“Why?”
“Why should I censor myself just because little kids don’t know they’re not supposed to repeat bad words.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Sam sounded, with the same bright smile.
“I don’t even swear that much.”
“Wanna bet?”
Dean scoffed again, trying to ignore his brother.
“Chicken?”
Sam sounded chicken noises, bawking his way into Dean’s ego. “Fine! I win, I chuck your phone out the window.”
“I win, I drive and get the radio for a month.”
“No way!”
“Just the radio.”
Dean finally relented. “A week.”
Sam cheered happily. “Deal!”
*
Next stop was the hospital to check in on the girl and talk to the parents. Dean questioned them, not coming up with much more than what Miss Lisa had already told them. While he kept them busy in the hallway, Sam checked on the girl. Her head on the pillow, silent and still, not a noise in the room but the machines keeping her going. He looked to the hallway, making sure the parents were distracted as he lifted the edge of the sheet and checked her arms.
The scratches were deep enough to leave well-defined marks, but not enough to create any major bleeding. He traced a few of the lines and found no major issues.
“Hey.” Sam’s eyes shot up while he dropped her hand. Dean smiled at scared Sam, but then continued. “They’re useless. There’s nothing more that they know than Lisa told us. There are no head injuries. She’s just out.”
“Dean, there’s something here.” Sam pulled her arm out again and pointed his finger along some of the lines. “Look how they loop around and then there are a bunch of puncture points.”
Dean frowned with thought as Sam pulled the blankets further to examine the scratches on her legs. “Lisa said Allison wasn’t gone for more than five minutes. How could someone do this much work in that time and get her in the oven?”
“Here,” Sam pointed out, as he caught something on her leg.
“Is that an eight?”
“I think it’s a B.”
“Huh,” he sounded, just as confused as Sam.
They heard the sirens going before they saw the police cars racing in front of the hospital and peel around the next corner. “Dean.”
He looked at Sam and knew what he was thinking. They had to find those police cars.
*
When they found themselves back at the Day Care, both Sam and Dean were a bit hesitant to find out what happened next. It was children, after all. But at the same time, they were excited to find something to tie to Allison Moore. They were a little demented that way.
They exited the Impala and Dean immediately saw Miss Lisa, speaking animatedly to a police officer. She stopped talking once she saw him and gave a sad smile while shaking her head. His attention was taken from her to Sam when his phone sounded.
“Sam,” he grunted as Sam checked the phone and popped it back into his pocket. “What in the hell are you doing with that thing? You can’t be getting that many porn updates.”
Sam refused to look at his brother and instead watched the scene before them. Parents were hurrying to their children, shooing them back to their cars and minivans. “This can’t be good.”
A few police officers were clearing items from the center, including bags full of blood-ridden towels. “Da -” Dean started to curse before Sam shot him a quick glance with a smile. “Da-nuts. Doughnuts.”
Sam held a skeptical, albeit amused glance.
“I didn’t say it. I’m still safe,” Dean carefully argued before making his way to Miss Lisa and the police. “Afternoon, Agents Henley and Frey.” He nodded towards Sam and they both flashed their fake badges. “What do we got?”
The police officer was preparing a careful, sterile answer before Miss Lisa’s face turned worried and she stepped closer to Dean. “We were all outside again and then I heard Angela crying inside, from the kitchen. She got cut real bad.”
“Where?”
“The kitchen,” she repeated, seeming a little annoyed.
Dean glanced at Sam, confused a bit. Sam spoke up with a smile. “I’m sorry. Where is she hurt?”
“Oh. Right. Her back.” Then she turned to Dean with the saddest blue eyes he’d ever seen before and likely would again. His insides sort of melted a tiny bit. “She was bleeding so bad.”
Sam asked to check the scene, and the officer escorted him inside. They weren’t gone long when Dean began comforting Miss Lisa. “Are you okay?”
She sighed and inched her way closer to him. “I don’t know. There was a lot of blood.”
His arm came behind her. “Is she okay?”
“She’s in the hospital now.” She ran both hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face. “Gosh, this week is awful. Two kids in the hospital? Jeesh.”
Deam smirked at her ‘gosh’ and ‘jeesh.’ The careful way she avoided any words of consequence came easily after years surrounded by kids. He was pretty proud of himself for not swearing so far, and pretty much winning the bet to the point of junking Sam’s phone, which he couldn’t stay off of lately.
“What happened before you found her?”
“Nothing, everyone was playing.”
“Did you see anything?
She went confused. “Like what?”
He wasn’t sure how to explain the types of things he’d seen in his lifetime when it came to this job. Especially without scaring her. Sam came from the building with a look that grabbed Dean’s attention. “What’s up?”
He edged close enough that the kids around them wouldn’t hear anything, but not so close that Miss Lisa couldn’t. “They found glass behind the refrigerator.”
Dean eyed the children around them, so many were running quickly to their parents. But the two blonde twins stood at the fence, cheerily going through another game of patty cake.
Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack
All dressed in black, black, black
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons
All down her back, back, back
His eyebrows dropped and he kept watching them. She spoke up, “But, how did she get back there?”
Sam shrugged and turned to Dean then followed his eyes to the girls’ little game. He cleared his throat to get Dean’s attention then gave him an intense look, hinting that he saw more than he would say. “There’re marks on the ground. That thing was moved.”
“By who?”
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t say more. Dean finally looked to his brother. “Was there anything else?”
Sam struggled to tell more, especially with Miss Lisa there. He grabbed Dean’s elbow and led him away, excusing them from her. “There were a ton of bugs, insects, all around her.”
“But she’s not dead,” Dean argued.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So what is it?” he asked, getting angry.
Sam sighed. “I don’t know”
“Son of a bi -” Dean started to grumble, but fumbled through the rest of that. “Biscuit.”
Sam’s initial smirk at his brother possibly ending the bet turned into a frown as he worked his way out of it. But if he was being honest with himself, he was amused at the way he did it.
“Sam.”
“Yeah,” he replied, knowing they had to go on their own to research and talk it through.
*
The thing about the Winchesters is that while they hate having restaurant food every meal of their lives, they both kind of love the ambiance of each restaurant they find. Except the one they chose for that dinner, which boasted stuffed road kill along the walls and had a few minor, smaller animals on the tables. Two chipmunks played bookends to the menus at the table.
“Gross,” Sam said as Dean grabbed two menus and flipped one at him.
“It’s just food, Sammy. We don’t have to live and die here.”
As they both read through the meal options, their stomachs began swimming and their eyes found each other. It was pretty much a road kill café. They should have figured on the décor.
“Looks like everything else does,” Sam muttered.
Dean tried to rationalize it all. “It’s fine. We’ll find something simple.”
They went back to the menus, not remotely impressed by the Splatter Platter or the Swirl of Squirrel. “Really?” Sam asked.
“It don’t look that bad.”
Sam felt queasy just reading the descriptions. Succulent snake? No way. “It looks all bad.”
“C’mon, it’ll be something to look back on. Something we did together.”
“Dean,” he complained. “We are not eating here.”
Across the room, Dean saw Miss Lisa enter and he smiled. “Absolutely, we are.”
Sam followed his eyes, and then sighed. “Okay, you really want to chase a girl who willingly eats here?”
“She’s a teacher,” Dean argued, playing up his eyebrows.
“Dean.”
“What?”
“You hate authority figures.”
“She’s only an authority to little kids.” As if that made sense.
When she neared the table, Sam shuffled the police files and scene photos back into his bag. Dean moved deeper into the booth and smiled. “Miss Lisa. What a surprise.”
She smiled carefully, eyeing Sam for a few moments before turning back to Dean. “I saw your car out front.”
“I’m glad you stopped in. Care to join us?” Dean patted at the space next to him.
As Miss Lisa sat, she looked at them both. “You boys really gonna eat here?”
“Sure” he replied happily, picking the menu up again. “I heard the …” Dean combed through the menu looking for something safe, but his mouth spit out, “Chunk of skunk,” and he paused before finishing. “Is great.” Dean tried his best to smile.
With a tight grin, Sam popped out of the booth, grabbing his bag. “You know, I have some calls to follow up on and should really check in at the office.”
Miss Lisa put up a small fight, insisting she didn’t mean to interrupt their meal. But he was quite grateful to get out of that restaurant and maybe eat something normal. Like tuna salad. Or grilled cheese.
“No, really, I should go.”
Dean shared a somewhat grateful smile, but deep down, Sam knew he was cursing him out for leaving him to feast on flattened, tire-tread possum by himself.
“At least get something to go.” She spoke so earnestly, that Sam had a hard time mocking it.
“You know, I had a really big lunch.” But he had no problem digging into his brother. “Dean actually skipped it, so make sure he gets something big.”
Under his breath, Dean began to curse. “Shi -” Sam leaned forward, interested to hear the swear. “Shiskabob.”
“Oh!” Miss Lisa patted his shoulder. “I’ve heard those are good. The shiska-bobcats.”
“I really should go. The director wanted an update on the case. I’m not that hungry anyway. But you two?” He smirked at Dean, real hard and amused. “Enjoy yourselves.” He tapped at a spot on his nearly forgotten menu. “The Road Toad Alamode sounds good.”
Dean’s face dropped and Sam’s smile grew as he waved and headed out. He grumbled as Miss Lisa looked over at him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, he’s just going to make out with his phone.”
“What?”
He hadn’t really meant to say that aloud, so he just smiled, threw his arm over the back of the booth, and leaned in a bit. “Now, Miss Lisa, how long have you been a teacher?”
She smiled. “You can just say Lisa.”
With a tip of his head, “I kind of like Miss Lisa.” And he winked, which seemed to tickle her insides, if the faint pink rising on her cheeks was any indication.
*
Sam kind of liked to research. He enjoyed the hunt of chasing down leads and ultimately being able to triumph over mysteries. Most of the time he liked giving Dean his ‘aha!’ moment and looking smart. Because he absolutely was smarter than Dean in most every subject. And especially when it came to computers and web sites and lore of all kinds. But this one kind of stuck him in a bad position. He’d spent the last two hours combing the internet, searching for all kinds of past stories and accounts of children being injured and scratched and all around targeted at ovens and fridges, for any sort of pain and accidents. Sam was used to long hours of research and not always finding every perfect piece of info, but he usually got something to get him excited and lead him onto the next possibility. Not this time; he couldn’t find a thing having to do with children in the kitchen.
He had come up empty, frustrated. But easily popped a few words into his cell phone. Ever see anything with kids in Missouri?
He continued his search, yet continually eyed his phone. Waiting for it to light up, to buzz, to give him an answer. Another thirty minutes and he was just as clueless and nearly slammed his laptop shut. He took to the arm chair by the TV, flicked the set on, and shoved his feet onto the coffee table while beginning to work on some of the beer they’d brought.
Sam hated wasting time in the hotel rooms. Dean usually loved it, finding the most mundane TV movies-of-the-week and getting sucked in, but this wasn’t his taste. He preferred to get his geek on and work on solving the case. His phone rattled on the desk. He debated answering it or not - he’d only had two beers and wasn’t finished with the third (though close), but he’d drank kind of fast and he was grouchy anyway. Texts from Dean about how hot the teacher was (okay, she kind of was), or how he was going back to her place weren’t high on his list of entertainment. But he finally got up and grabbed his phone before slumping back into the arm chair, some forgotten movie on in the background.
Think I’m a genie? Try again.
He smirked and balanced his bottle in his lap as he replied. Losing your touch, Carson.
Shut it Losechester!
Sam leaned deeper into the chair, hitching his feet further onto the table, and took a big gulp from the bottle, finishing it off. He stretched, dangling the bottle over the edge of the chair, prepared to place it at the table next to him when the TV caught his attention.
Miss Susie had a tug boat
Her tug boat had a bell
Miss Susie went to heaven her tug boat went to …
He was so fascinated by the children playing on screen, singing together, that he ignored the new buzz of his cell and dropped the bottle, which crashed at the wood floor.
Behind the refrigerator
There lay a piece of glass
Miss Susie sat upon it and cut her little
Ask me no more questions
I'll tell you no more lies
The boys are in the bathroom zipping up their
Flies are in the meadow
The bees are in the park
Miss Susie and her boyfriend are kissing in the d-a-r-k, d-a-r-k, dark, dark, dark
Suddenly things clicked in his head. The glass behind the fridge, the insects - hornets and gnats - all around the scene. He flew to the laptop and began punching in search words.
Sam really loved doing research.
*
Dean, on the other hand, loved the personal investigations. Talking to the people involved, delving deep into their recollection and doing his best to settle their nerves when the situations were just too much for them to handle. And he was beginning to realize that Miss Lisa just may have been a little too much for him to handle.
After ordering the Center Line Bovine - the menu bragged it “Taste real good, straight from the hood” but he just couldn’t manage it and focused mostly on the fries and his beer, the four or five he sucked down while she matched him - they had hurried out to the Impala, Miss Lisa following while keeping both hands wrapped around his waist and nuzzling the back of his neck while he unlocked the doors.
He turned back to her as his thumb punched at the door knob and began tugging it open. “I’ll have you know I have a total kink for authority.”
Her mouth ravaged his, which gave tiny moans of helplessness. Once the door was open, she pushed him down on the seat and crawled on top of him. “So do I.” He whimpered a tiny sound and her grin spread and her voice went stern. “Take off your jacket and shirt.”
Dean chuckled darkly as he slowly pulled at the arm sleeves.
“Now!” she directed, tugging at his shirt.
“Oh, holy hell,” he groaned, a little afraid, but a lot liking it.
They continued with the messy kissing, haphazardly undressing the other, pushing clothes to the ground. Dean began to sit up, pulling her with him and trying to move to the backseat when his phone rang.
“Ignore it,” she said against his neck.
“Ignore what?” His hands grabbed her hips while hers sunk into his pants. “Oh,” he shivered with a laugh, surprised. “Okay, yeah.”
The ringing started right back up, and as hard as Dean tried to ignore it and focus on, well other things that were, you know, hard, he had to stop and yell into the phone. “This better be good.”
Sam spoke quickly. “I know what’s going on.”
“Yeah?” he asked, angry. Yet his stomach and brain were extremely happy with the way she was moving down his body, lips on every inch of bare skin.
“Yeah, the kids doing the games -”
Dean cut him off angrily. “That’s great, Sam. We’ve got our own little game here, so I’m-a just gonna catch you later.”
Before he could close the phone, Miss Lisa grabbed it, snapping it shut, throwing it into the front seat. When they found each other’s eyes, she spoke slowly and with weight, as if he were a pupil. “Now pay attention.”
“I really like your teaching style.”
*
Dean returned to the room a walking tub of goo and smiles. Sam decided to ignore that, not wanting to hear a single detail, so he turned at the desk, a little excited, and a little loud. “Alright, so the little blonde girls in the playground? The ones doing the songs.”
“Sammy,” Dean grinned as he dropped his jacket at the bed.
It was obvious. Dean wanted to talk about his night. “Okay, no,” he responded immediately. “The girls at the playground.”
“Sammy,” he tried again.
He gave a disgusted face and leaned back in his chair. “No.”
“Educators, Sammy, are the cornerstone to our youth.”
“What?”
“They lay the foundations for our great leaders - past, present, future.”
“Dean.”
“Without them, the world would be lost and without structure. And we’d all be dumb.”
With a sigh, “And apparently unlaid. Great, I get it.”
“Well,” Dean smirked. “You’re not really getting it. Or any, really. Maybe that’s why you’re always so” and he curled his lips together, furrowed his eyebrows, and basically gave a typical Sam sad and tormented face.
“What?” he nearly shrieked. “I do not look like that!”
“All the time, Sammy. All the time.”
“Whatever,” he huffed. “Do you want to know what’s going on?”
“Yeah, fine.”
Another strained look flashed on his face, pissed at Dean for being in that kind of a mood and not seeming to care what was going on. Or that Sam totally connected the dots all on his own with his own time on his own research without wasting time screwing someone so close to the case - given their little agreement to not be involved during a case. Yeah, he was still talking to Andie from the Chicago job, but he kept his professional hat on and still found all the answers while restraining himself from doing anything stupid. Sam was good at research. Dean was good at doing everything wrong.
Sam moved to his bed, facing Dean, and handed over some pages he’d printed out. “Remember those blonde girls? They kept playing all the patty-cake games every time we were there. No matter what was going on around us?”
Dean took the papers and read through the text. “Yeah, the Damien twins.”
“The games they’re singing? It’s happening at the center. The first one,” and Sam quickly got up to sit next to Dean so he could trace along the words he was talking about. “The pat-a-cake one. Look, ‘pat it and prick it -”
Dean continued “Mark it with a B.”
“Yeah,” Sam smiled, still happy that he’d figured it all out (even if the Family Channel’s movie-of-the-week prompted him to the answer. He wasn’t going to tell Dean that. Like ever.) “And ‘put it in the oven for baby and me.’”
His head picked up and looked confused, then turned into disturbed. “Are you serious? These girls said this and someone ends up in the oven?”
Nodding, Sam grabbed another piece from Dean’s hands, putting it on top. “And this one. Miss Suzy. ‘Behind the refrigerator, there lay a piece of glass. Miss Suzie sat upon it and cut her little -“
“This is clearly saying … you know. She was cut on her back.”
“It’s the song.”
Dean shrugged. “So, you think these girls are mind-controlling everyone to follow their games? They say jump and the others do it?”
“Yeah. I found here,” and he pointed at another piece of paper. “A little occult that started up in Terrell, Missouri. A few chosen children were actually possessed and acted as elders, influencing the others to do what they wanted.”
“Where’s Terrell?”
“Two towns to the south.”
Dean sighed and looked through the papers again, and then asked carefully. “We have to torch two kids?”
“Bobby found something that might reverse the initial spell.”
“Might?”
“Dean, we don’t have much time. These are little kids. We have to do whatever’s possible.”
He handed the papers back to Sam. “Okay, Miss Lisa said they’re going to the zoo tomorrow. We can probably piggyback onto the visit and corner the girls.” Sam gave him a look. “What?”
“Miss Lisa?”
“Yeah.”
“You actually call her Miss?”
Dean did his best to steel his face, but a little smirk crept forward. “Yeah, she likes that.”
Sam frowned and turned away from him. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
*
“So what is the next game?” Dean asked as they followed ten or so feet behind the day care group, trying to not be too imposing, but keeping an eye on all the kids.
Sam pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket and unfolded it. “Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack. All dressed in black, black, black. With silver -”
Dean snatched the paper from his hands in annoyance. There was no way he’d listen to Sam recite playground games any longer than he had to. “What’s the juicy part?” His eyes grazed the paper, and he looked back to Sam, confused. “Nothing happens. This girl’s just dressed in black and borrows money from Grandma.”
Just then, the group split and took different directions, but one little girl stood before them. Not moving. The guys slowed their steps and watched, waiting for her to do something. Sam whispered, “Silver buttons.”
“No, shhhh -” Dean stopped himself as one of the nearby kids looked at him. “Sheese. I am so hungry, I could really go for a cheese sandwich.” The kid turned back around, laughing at him.
Her little legs took her down a path behind one of the groups, but took a quick turn at another fork in the path. Sam and Dean jogged after her, but Sam spotted the twin girls slowing down and watching the girl until they came to a complete stop. “Dean!”
He looked over to the girls, then back to the one in black. “You go, I got her.”
Sam frowned when Dean took over, leaving him no option. He crept up to the girls, who were unfazed by his presence, and pulled out the journal to find the incantation Bobby had given him the night before.
*
Dean always thought himself to be pretty fit. But when a little five-year-old is outrunning you, you really have to rely on the eerily comfortable thought that she was possessed. So it’s not like she would really beat him in any sort of leg race. It’s just that those creepy Redrum Twins were doing their best at keeping her on task to do … whatever. Dean still wasn’t sure.
When she neared the Pachyderm house, her speed slowed until she reached a fence and began to climb. He watched the humongous elephants traipsing through their habitat. Casually stomping their feet with thunderous tremors. “Oh, fudge,” he not-quite-cursed. Too used to not using real swear words, he couldn’t stop it now. “No, no!” he called out, but she wouldn’t stop. He huffed and started climbing up behind her, keeping one eye glued to her, making she didn’t fall, and another on the openings in the fencing.
At the top, she swung a leg over and started with the other. Dean quickly grabbed onto that ankle and pulled. Her strength was not great, but fairly equal to his given her current state, and he had a hard time getting her back over. He resigned to simply holding her in place so she wouldn’t fall into the elephant pit. “Sam!” he yelled.
*
As Sam finished up the incantation, he sighed with relief and closed the book. Until the girls turned and both faced him, with strange, scarily blank faces. His smile faltered into worry. They watched as he pulled the book open and began reading. Again.
This time, the girls slowly neared him, in step with each other. He chanted Latin, getting a bit louder as they got closer, and moving a few steps back in time with their movements. He could hear noises going on just beyond the path that Dean took and he prayed that the crowd was reacting more to Dean than anything tragic happening to that girl.
His words grew more powerful from his mouth as his fear crept in but anger drowned it. Sam had finished, but started a third time, not quite sure what else to do. The girls were still winning the staring match and moving closer. In a normal case, he would likely fight with them, but they were kids. He had some standards.
When he was two lines in his fourth try, the girls’ eyes grew black, then turned white. Their heads arched to the sky and the mouths flew open, black smoke screaming out of each one, blasting its way to the clouds above. When the girls dropped to the ground, he stuffed the journal back into his jacket and knelt to them. He could feel heartbeats - though faint, they were there, thankfully.
Miss Lisa rushed over and huddled over them, stroking their faces and sounding hysterical. “Oh my God. Jessica and Sarah!” She looked up to Sam. “Are they okay?”
“Yeah, they’ll be fine.” He stood and tried to call Dean, but before he hit send, the little girl in black came marching around a corner, breaking into an all-out run for Miss Lisa’s arms. Sam rushed to the pathway and found Dean strolling over. “Hey, man,” and he lightly grabbed at Dean’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just stuck on the fence for a while.”
Sam looked curious, confused.
“Miss Mary Mack? Wanted to see the elephants jump over the fence.”
His eyes went large.
Dean nodded with a slight smile. “Yeah, she was on top and I kept tugging on her leg.”
“Oh, shit.”
Miss Lisa’s voice called out, “Language!”
*
Dean held Miss Lisa against him as he leaned at the Impala’s driver’s side door, taking every bit of her tongue that she could manage to give, and basically giving anyone in the area the show of a lifetime. Sam sat in the passenger seat and could see Dean’s ass pressed against the window, and then her hands creeping down to squeeze at him through his jeans before dipping fingers into the back of the denim.
He gave the most disgusted face possible and crossed his arms, looking out his window.
Children’s voices filled the air, forcing them apart. Miss Lisa pulled a thumb across his bottom lip to clear away her lipstick.
“You know,” he started with a more-than-usual-rough, low voice. “I am a big supporter of education.”
She dragged an open palm down his chest. “You certainly are a quick learner.”
His response was a cross between a moan and a laugh. “If I ever come anywhere near Elwood, I am enrolling in your school.”
With a laugh, she leaned forward for another thorough kiss. Her fingers flicked her goodbye as she joined the students at the big yellow school bus across the lot.
Inside the Impala, Dean smacked Sam’s shoulder, chuckling. “Looks like I get to toss your phone now.”
“It had nothing to do with my swearing!”
“Yeah, but you still did it, even while I watched myself the whole damned time.”
Sam smiled, tipping his head to the side. “Hmm.”
“What?”
Happily, Sam declared, “You just swore.”
“Did not.”
“Yeah, you did, Dean. You said Damn!”
Dean’s face scrunched up as he started the car. “Whatever, we’re away from the kids. Doesn’t count. Besides, it was only during the case. That thing was done as soon as the Bobsy Twins threw up smoke.”
“Then my swearing doesn’t count either and I keep my phone.”
“You’re such a girl with that thing.”
“Whatever,” Sam muttered.
Dean looked over, and with a tiny smile reached into the backseat for his box of tapes. “Here,” and he dropped it in Sam’s lap. “You can pick what we listen to.”
Another grumble. “Yeah, that’s fair. It’s all shitty music.”
“I am ignoring that.”
“Whatever.”
“Just be grateful. This is the closest you’re getting to the radio.”
Next | Can't Find My Way Back Home | When Andie has visions of Sam in rough shape and Dean loses track of his brother, they team up (to Dean's reluctance) to get him back. But things get complicated when Andie is drawn into the situation and is actually a key piece of the pie.
Genre: SPN Casefic
People: Sam and Dean
Rating: R - a few bad words
Word Count: 7,000 ish
Summary: The Brothers Winchester find themselves investigating some freaky incidents at a day care in Missouri. Dean tries his best to avoid vulgarities while getting up close and personal with the education system, and Sam solves the case via crappy movies-of-the-week.
Notes: Carries on from Long Train Running, but is more of an insert as it doesn't mean alllllll too much in the grand scheme of things (yes, there is more casefic, oh my word, I need to wrap it up so it stops hogging my brain). Title from Eric Clapton "Double Trouble."
Disclaimer: Absolutely a figment of my imagination
Elwood, Missouri
At the Sunny Days Child Care Center, children played their way through the afternoon break. They climbed on the jungle gym, shrieked down the slide, and clapped their way through playground songs.
Two girls, both blonde and porcelain faced, and both sporting carefully crafted braids at the nape of their necks, cheerily sang out while other children ran around the fenced-in yard. Happy and bright eyed.
Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man.
Bake me a cake as fast as you can.
Miss Janice crossed her arms with a smile, watching the children at play. Her cool, yet casual wardrobe betrayed her position as a day care worker, but the little ones continually built up her heart to massive warmth. One little snot-nosed boy - literally, there were slimy boogers creeping their way down his lip, which is something she hadn’t quiet imagined when she first started her childcare certification, but it was too late now to go back - came up screeching. “Miss Janice! Miss Janice! Allison quit our game ‘n ran ‘way again!”
She smiled despite his tattling and did her best to reprimand. “Robby, if Allison doesn’t want to play anymore, then you can keep playing, right?”
He pouted more. “But she left.” Miss Janice scanned the yard for the little redhead before looking to Robby, who started whining again. “She ran in dere!” He pointed at the building.
Miss Janice frowned and walked back to the day care center, where children weren’t allowed without supervision during outdoor breaks.
Noises went on around her as she passed a few boys chasing each other up and down the stairs leading to the slide, a girl chasing another around the fireman’s pole, and the twins chanting and clapping again.
When she got inside, she called out for Allison, but got no reply. She checked the coat room, but still nothing. Then she found the most peculiar smell in the air and made her way through the kindergarten room and into the kitchen.
A moment of pause to really take in the scene did nothing to squelch her screams, for they came loud and long and horrified. When Miss Lisa ran to the scene, she, too, screamed. For they found Allison’s legs dangling out the oven, scratches marking her skin in various lines of no meaning, and absolutely unmoving.
*
The Impala sped its way across the pitch black interstate, blaring James Gang’s Funk 49. Out all night, sleep all day. I know what you're doing.
Dean took his eyes from the road for a second to eye Sam, whose own eyes were glued to his cell phone. “Tetris?”
“Hmm?” Sam sounded without looking up, tapping his fingers on the keyboard.
“You know, that little block game? Didn’t it turn 25 last year?”
He flashed Dean a strange glance before looking back out the window, cell phone in his hand. A few moments later, it buzzed to life, lighting up Sam’s half of the front seat.
“Is there a massive cell phone revolt I should know about? Is my phone safe from the fight?”
Another weird look and he tucked his phone away.
“Alright, so what’s the story?”
“Uh, Elwood, Missouri,” Sam started before straightening his legs. They had been on the road for well over eight hours with only one break lasting longer than taking a piss. Somehow, he had thought driving from Chicago to Eastern Pennsylvania was bad for their last job, but Pennsylvania to Missouri was really wearing him down. “Allison Moore was found in a day care unconscious. She’s been in a coma the past two days with no signs of medical problems. They have no evidence of anything else.”
They both heard the slight buzz in his pocket, but neither said a word. Dean was growing so impatient with the phone and Sam constantly playing with it. With a huff, he crabbed, “Sam, I swear to God I will chuck that phone out the damn window.”
Sam gave his own sigh but was trying to ignore the phone.
Dean let it drop, and continued with the original conversation. “If there’s no foul play, what’re we looking at?”
He pulled out a file from his bag, glancing through printed news stories he’d picked up at their last stop. “For one, her legs were all marked up.”
“Don’t they get scratched once in a while?”
Sam stared at his brother, who stared in return.
“What?”
“You say it like you don’t know what kids are.”
“I know what kids are!” Dean complained.
Sam’s voice went hard. “Yes, Dean, they get scratched up sometimes. Damn.”
“Aww, Sammy, did someone piss in your cereal?”
“What? No.” After a few moments, Sam muttered, “You’re the one being the jerk.”
“What?” Dean demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Bitch.”
“So original.”
Dean gave a sarcastic smile. “Well, this ride will be fun.”
*
Sam and Dean arrived at Sunny Days the next morning, claiming to be FBI, specializing in children’s cases. Kids were playing as they always had, running up and down the jungle gym, sliding their way down the fireman’s pole, and climbing across the monkey bars.
The twin blonde girls ran right in Dean’s path, forcing him to the side and knocking his hip into the corner of the water fountain. “Damnit!” Dean muttered, but it was loud enough for the two to look back at him, smiling wide and giggling.
“Language,” Miss Lisa reprimanded as she appeared at his side.
“Sh - ” Dean started to curse again (he had to admit that it really did hurt, but he could be better than that). He stopped when he caught her delicate, pretty face, and gave a quick apology before straightening himself out. “I’m fine,” he smiled, taking in her smooth skin and long blonde hair.
Sam rolled his eyes as he watched Dean get into his “Dean” mode and try to impress her. His phone sounded, bringing him away from the conversation and to type out a message before Dean cleared his throat. When Sam looked up, Dean nudged his head towards the woman, signaling that they had to listen to her.
Miss Lisa spoke again. “I came in after I heard Miss Janice screaming. Allison was in the oven.”
Both Sam and Dean gave surprised, awkward glances before looking at each other and back to her.
“Yeah,” she sighed, crossing her arms tight. “It was open, but her legs were out, and she was scratched up so badly.” She sighed and nearly shivered at the memory.
Dean stepped closer, placing a delicate hand at her arm. “I’m sorry. I know this must’ve been terrible to see.”
Miss Lisa nodded carefully, watching him. “I had to pull her out of there. She was … she.” Another big breath. “She wasn’t moving.”
As tears broke at her eyes, Dean pulled her closer, rubbing at her back and murmuring encouragement.
Sam’s eyebrows furrowed together at the scene. Well, apparently Dean was up to the task of being the resident comforter. Sam’s mouth twitched a tiny bit before he spoke up. “Her legs?” The two broke apart and watched him, Dean quite perturbed. “You said there were scratches?”
“Yeah, just all over her legs and arms.”
“Did you see anything this morning? Did she have any marks like that before?”
“No,” she insisted, shaking her head quickly. “I’d never seen anything like that with Allison. She has the sweetest parents, they adore that girl.”
Dean’s interest grew in the woman as he stepped closer, using a low voice to fake his way as a serious person and ask her more questions. At that point, Sam checked through the yard, watching all the kids playing and just trying to reason what on earth had caused that girl to climb into the oven. Let alone left all those scratches. His eyes caught the twins in the corner, playing on their own, happily clapping their way through yet another game.
Miss Suzie had a tugboat
The tugboat had a bell
Miss Suzie went to heaven
The tugboat went to
Hello operator …
He smiled just a crack, partly at the girls’ little game and intended swear word, but also internally wishing he’d had his own childhood in a place like this. Children running around, climbing and chasing, all with fun. Not because they were running from a great evil with their father and brother. His mind continued wandering as he watched the kids, finally bringing his sights back to Dean, who was doing his best to fully hit on Miss Lisa.
Dean nodded his head towards her. “If you don’t mind, we’re going to need your information.” His voice went playful. “You know, in case we have more questions.”
Again, Sam’s face screwed up while he looked away. He had no problem knowing his brother chased every piece of tail they crossed, but he kind of hated watching it.
Miss Lisa nodded then began a gentle smile, sort of catching on to him. “Yes, of course. I’m not real clear right now. I’m sure it will come back to me later.” She moved closer, sliding her hand beneath his, which held the pad of paper and pen with which he took notes. She carefully wrote her name and number, brushing closely to Dean, which then forced his face into a sly smile.
Okay, Sam really hated watching it.
As they walked towards the gate, Dean smacked at Sam’s shoulder. “Hot damn, I love teachers.”
A little boy ran by, repeating him. “Damn!”
Another worker called out angrily, shooting them both a soured glance. “Language!”
Sam laughed at Dean as her hurried to the Impala before he were reprimanded more. He was still smiling when they settled in the front seat.
“It’s not that funny,” Dean grumbled.
Continuing to be amused, Sam’s amusement grew. “I don’t know. It seems pretty funny from here.”
“Whatever.”
“You pretty scared of those teachers?”
“No,” he crabbed while pulling away from the day care and heading towards their hotel.
Sam shifted to face him and put on a satisfied smile. “I bet you can’t go this entire case without swearing in front of those kids.”
He scoffed. “Of course I could.”
“Try it.”
Another scoff.
Sam’s smile broadened. “See, you know you can’t.”
“I can, I just choose not to.”
“Why?”
“Why should I censor myself just because little kids don’t know they’re not supposed to repeat bad words.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Sam sounded, with the same bright smile.
“I don’t even swear that much.”
“Wanna bet?”
Dean scoffed again, trying to ignore his brother.
“Chicken?”
Sam sounded chicken noises, bawking his way into Dean’s ego. “Fine! I win, I chuck your phone out the window.”
“I win, I drive and get the radio for a month.”
“No way!”
“Just the radio.”
Dean finally relented. “A week.”
Sam cheered happily. “Deal!”
*
Next stop was the hospital to check in on the girl and talk to the parents. Dean questioned them, not coming up with much more than what Miss Lisa had already told them. While he kept them busy in the hallway, Sam checked on the girl. Her head on the pillow, silent and still, not a noise in the room but the machines keeping her going. He looked to the hallway, making sure the parents were distracted as he lifted the edge of the sheet and checked her arms.
The scratches were deep enough to leave well-defined marks, but not enough to create any major bleeding. He traced a few of the lines and found no major issues.
“Hey.” Sam’s eyes shot up while he dropped her hand. Dean smiled at scared Sam, but then continued. “They’re useless. There’s nothing more that they know than Lisa told us. There are no head injuries. She’s just out.”
“Dean, there’s something here.” Sam pulled her arm out again and pointed his finger along some of the lines. “Look how they loop around and then there are a bunch of puncture points.”
Dean frowned with thought as Sam pulled the blankets further to examine the scratches on her legs. “Lisa said Allison wasn’t gone for more than five minutes. How could someone do this much work in that time and get her in the oven?”
“Here,” Sam pointed out, as he caught something on her leg.
“Is that an eight?”
“I think it’s a B.”
“Huh,” he sounded, just as confused as Sam.
They heard the sirens going before they saw the police cars racing in front of the hospital and peel around the next corner. “Dean.”
He looked at Sam and knew what he was thinking. They had to find those police cars.
*
When they found themselves back at the Day Care, both Sam and Dean were a bit hesitant to find out what happened next. It was children, after all. But at the same time, they were excited to find something to tie to Allison Moore. They were a little demented that way.
They exited the Impala and Dean immediately saw Miss Lisa, speaking animatedly to a police officer. She stopped talking once she saw him and gave a sad smile while shaking her head. His attention was taken from her to Sam when his phone sounded.
“Sam,” he grunted as Sam checked the phone and popped it back into his pocket. “What in the hell are you doing with that thing? You can’t be getting that many porn updates.”
Sam refused to look at his brother and instead watched the scene before them. Parents were hurrying to their children, shooing them back to their cars and minivans. “This can’t be good.”
A few police officers were clearing items from the center, including bags full of blood-ridden towels. “Da -” Dean started to curse before Sam shot him a quick glance with a smile. “Da-nuts. Doughnuts.”
Sam held a skeptical, albeit amused glance.
“I didn’t say it. I’m still safe,” Dean carefully argued before making his way to Miss Lisa and the police. “Afternoon, Agents Henley and Frey.” He nodded towards Sam and they both flashed their fake badges. “What do we got?”
The police officer was preparing a careful, sterile answer before Miss Lisa’s face turned worried and she stepped closer to Dean. “We were all outside again and then I heard Angela crying inside, from the kitchen. She got cut real bad.”
“Where?”
“The kitchen,” she repeated, seeming a little annoyed.
Dean glanced at Sam, confused a bit. Sam spoke up with a smile. “I’m sorry. Where is she hurt?”
“Oh. Right. Her back.” Then she turned to Dean with the saddest blue eyes he’d ever seen before and likely would again. His insides sort of melted a tiny bit. “She was bleeding so bad.”
Sam asked to check the scene, and the officer escorted him inside. They weren’t gone long when Dean began comforting Miss Lisa. “Are you okay?”
She sighed and inched her way closer to him. “I don’t know. There was a lot of blood.”
His arm came behind her. “Is she okay?”
“She’s in the hospital now.” She ran both hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face. “Gosh, this week is awful. Two kids in the hospital? Jeesh.”
Deam smirked at her ‘gosh’ and ‘jeesh.’ The careful way she avoided any words of consequence came easily after years surrounded by kids. He was pretty proud of himself for not swearing so far, and pretty much winning the bet to the point of junking Sam’s phone, which he couldn’t stay off of lately.
“What happened before you found her?”
“Nothing, everyone was playing.”
“Did you see anything?
She went confused. “Like what?”
He wasn’t sure how to explain the types of things he’d seen in his lifetime when it came to this job. Especially without scaring her. Sam came from the building with a look that grabbed Dean’s attention. “What’s up?”
He edged close enough that the kids around them wouldn’t hear anything, but not so close that Miss Lisa couldn’t. “They found glass behind the refrigerator.”
Dean eyed the children around them, so many were running quickly to their parents. But the two blonde twins stood at the fence, cheerily going through another game of patty cake.
Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack
All dressed in black, black, black
With silver buttons, buttons, buttons
All down her back, back, back
His eyebrows dropped and he kept watching them. She spoke up, “But, how did she get back there?”
Sam shrugged and turned to Dean then followed his eyes to the girls’ little game. He cleared his throat to get Dean’s attention then gave him an intense look, hinting that he saw more than he would say. “There’re marks on the ground. That thing was moved.”
“By who?”
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t say more. Dean finally looked to his brother. “Was there anything else?”
Sam struggled to tell more, especially with Miss Lisa there. He grabbed Dean’s elbow and led him away, excusing them from her. “There were a ton of bugs, insects, all around her.”
“But she’s not dead,” Dean argued.
“Yeah, I know.”
“So what is it?” he asked, getting angry.
Sam sighed. “I don’t know”
“Son of a bi -” Dean started to grumble, but fumbled through the rest of that. “Biscuit.”
Sam’s initial smirk at his brother possibly ending the bet turned into a frown as he worked his way out of it. But if he was being honest with himself, he was amused at the way he did it.
“Sam.”
“Yeah,” he replied, knowing they had to go on their own to research and talk it through.
*
The thing about the Winchesters is that while they hate having restaurant food every meal of their lives, they both kind of love the ambiance of each restaurant they find. Except the one they chose for that dinner, which boasted stuffed road kill along the walls and had a few minor, smaller animals on the tables. Two chipmunks played bookends to the menus at the table.
“Gross,” Sam said as Dean grabbed two menus and flipped one at him.
“It’s just food, Sammy. We don’t have to live and die here.”
As they both read through the meal options, their stomachs began swimming and their eyes found each other. It was pretty much a road kill café. They should have figured on the décor.
“Looks like everything else does,” Sam muttered.
Dean tried to rationalize it all. “It’s fine. We’ll find something simple.”
They went back to the menus, not remotely impressed by the Splatter Platter or the Swirl of Squirrel. “Really?” Sam asked.
“It don’t look that bad.”
Sam felt queasy just reading the descriptions. Succulent snake? No way. “It looks all bad.”
“C’mon, it’ll be something to look back on. Something we did together.”
“Dean,” he complained. “We are not eating here.”
Across the room, Dean saw Miss Lisa enter and he smiled. “Absolutely, we are.”
Sam followed his eyes, and then sighed. “Okay, you really want to chase a girl who willingly eats here?”
“She’s a teacher,” Dean argued, playing up his eyebrows.
“Dean.”
“What?”
“You hate authority figures.”
“She’s only an authority to little kids.” As if that made sense.
When she neared the table, Sam shuffled the police files and scene photos back into his bag. Dean moved deeper into the booth and smiled. “Miss Lisa. What a surprise.”
She smiled carefully, eyeing Sam for a few moments before turning back to Dean. “I saw your car out front.”
“I’m glad you stopped in. Care to join us?” Dean patted at the space next to him.
As Miss Lisa sat, she looked at them both. “You boys really gonna eat here?”
“Sure” he replied happily, picking the menu up again. “I heard the …” Dean combed through the menu looking for something safe, but his mouth spit out, “Chunk of skunk,” and he paused before finishing. “Is great.” Dean tried his best to smile.
With a tight grin, Sam popped out of the booth, grabbing his bag. “You know, I have some calls to follow up on and should really check in at the office.”
Miss Lisa put up a small fight, insisting she didn’t mean to interrupt their meal. But he was quite grateful to get out of that restaurant and maybe eat something normal. Like tuna salad. Or grilled cheese.
“No, really, I should go.”
Dean shared a somewhat grateful smile, but deep down, Sam knew he was cursing him out for leaving him to feast on flattened, tire-tread possum by himself.
“At least get something to go.” She spoke so earnestly, that Sam had a hard time mocking it.
“You know, I had a really big lunch.” But he had no problem digging into his brother. “Dean actually skipped it, so make sure he gets something big.”
Under his breath, Dean began to curse. “Shi -” Sam leaned forward, interested to hear the swear. “Shiskabob.”
“Oh!” Miss Lisa patted his shoulder. “I’ve heard those are good. The shiska-bobcats.”
“I really should go. The director wanted an update on the case. I’m not that hungry anyway. But you two?” He smirked at Dean, real hard and amused. “Enjoy yourselves.” He tapped at a spot on his nearly forgotten menu. “The Road Toad Alamode sounds good.”
Dean’s face dropped and Sam’s smile grew as he waved and headed out. He grumbled as Miss Lisa looked over at him. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, he’s just going to make out with his phone.”
“What?”
He hadn’t really meant to say that aloud, so he just smiled, threw his arm over the back of the booth, and leaned in a bit. “Now, Miss Lisa, how long have you been a teacher?”
She smiled. “You can just say Lisa.”
With a tip of his head, “I kind of like Miss Lisa.” And he winked, which seemed to tickle her insides, if the faint pink rising on her cheeks was any indication.
*
Sam kind of liked to research. He enjoyed the hunt of chasing down leads and ultimately being able to triumph over mysteries. Most of the time he liked giving Dean his ‘aha!’ moment and looking smart. Because he absolutely was smarter than Dean in most every subject. And especially when it came to computers and web sites and lore of all kinds. But this one kind of stuck him in a bad position. He’d spent the last two hours combing the internet, searching for all kinds of past stories and accounts of children being injured and scratched and all around targeted at ovens and fridges, for any sort of pain and accidents. Sam was used to long hours of research and not always finding every perfect piece of info, but he usually got something to get him excited and lead him onto the next possibility. Not this time; he couldn’t find a thing having to do with children in the kitchen.
He had come up empty, frustrated. But easily popped a few words into his cell phone. Ever see anything with kids in Missouri?
He continued his search, yet continually eyed his phone. Waiting for it to light up, to buzz, to give him an answer. Another thirty minutes and he was just as clueless and nearly slammed his laptop shut. He took to the arm chair by the TV, flicked the set on, and shoved his feet onto the coffee table while beginning to work on some of the beer they’d brought.
Sam hated wasting time in the hotel rooms. Dean usually loved it, finding the most mundane TV movies-of-the-week and getting sucked in, but this wasn’t his taste. He preferred to get his geek on and work on solving the case. His phone rattled on the desk. He debated answering it or not - he’d only had two beers and wasn’t finished with the third (though close), but he’d drank kind of fast and he was grouchy anyway. Texts from Dean about how hot the teacher was (okay, she kind of was), or how he was going back to her place weren’t high on his list of entertainment. But he finally got up and grabbed his phone before slumping back into the arm chair, some forgotten movie on in the background.
Think I’m a genie? Try again.
He smirked and balanced his bottle in his lap as he replied. Losing your touch, Carson.
Shut it Losechester!
Sam leaned deeper into the chair, hitching his feet further onto the table, and took a big gulp from the bottle, finishing it off. He stretched, dangling the bottle over the edge of the chair, prepared to place it at the table next to him when the TV caught his attention.
Miss Susie had a tug boat
Her tug boat had a bell
Miss Susie went to heaven her tug boat went to …
He was so fascinated by the children playing on screen, singing together, that he ignored the new buzz of his cell and dropped the bottle, which crashed at the wood floor.
Behind the refrigerator
There lay a piece of glass
Miss Susie sat upon it and cut her little
Ask me no more questions
I'll tell you no more lies
The boys are in the bathroom zipping up their
Flies are in the meadow
The bees are in the park
Miss Susie and her boyfriend are kissing in the d-a-r-k, d-a-r-k, dark, dark, dark
Suddenly things clicked in his head. The glass behind the fridge, the insects - hornets and gnats - all around the scene. He flew to the laptop and began punching in search words.
Sam really loved doing research.
*
Dean, on the other hand, loved the personal investigations. Talking to the people involved, delving deep into their recollection and doing his best to settle their nerves when the situations were just too much for them to handle. And he was beginning to realize that Miss Lisa just may have been a little too much for him to handle.
After ordering the Center Line Bovine - the menu bragged it “Taste real good, straight from the hood” but he just couldn’t manage it and focused mostly on the fries and his beer, the four or five he sucked down while she matched him - they had hurried out to the Impala, Miss Lisa following while keeping both hands wrapped around his waist and nuzzling the back of his neck while he unlocked the doors.
He turned back to her as his thumb punched at the door knob and began tugging it open. “I’ll have you know I have a total kink for authority.”
Her mouth ravaged his, which gave tiny moans of helplessness. Once the door was open, she pushed him down on the seat and crawled on top of him. “So do I.” He whimpered a tiny sound and her grin spread and her voice went stern. “Take off your jacket and shirt.”
Dean chuckled darkly as he slowly pulled at the arm sleeves.
“Now!” she directed, tugging at his shirt.
“Oh, holy hell,” he groaned, a little afraid, but a lot liking it.
They continued with the messy kissing, haphazardly undressing the other, pushing clothes to the ground. Dean began to sit up, pulling her with him and trying to move to the backseat when his phone rang.
“Ignore it,” she said against his neck.
“Ignore what?” His hands grabbed her hips while hers sunk into his pants. “Oh,” he shivered with a laugh, surprised. “Okay, yeah.”
The ringing started right back up, and as hard as Dean tried to ignore it and focus on, well other things that were, you know, hard, he had to stop and yell into the phone. “This better be good.”
Sam spoke quickly. “I know what’s going on.”
“Yeah?” he asked, angry. Yet his stomach and brain were extremely happy with the way she was moving down his body, lips on every inch of bare skin.
“Yeah, the kids doing the games -”
Dean cut him off angrily. “That’s great, Sam. We’ve got our own little game here, so I’m-a just gonna catch you later.”
Before he could close the phone, Miss Lisa grabbed it, snapping it shut, throwing it into the front seat. When they found each other’s eyes, she spoke slowly and with weight, as if he were a pupil. “Now pay attention.”
“I really like your teaching style.”
*
Dean returned to the room a walking tub of goo and smiles. Sam decided to ignore that, not wanting to hear a single detail, so he turned at the desk, a little excited, and a little loud. “Alright, so the little blonde girls in the playground? The ones doing the songs.”
“Sammy,” Dean grinned as he dropped his jacket at the bed.
It was obvious. Dean wanted to talk about his night. “Okay, no,” he responded immediately. “The girls at the playground.”
“Sammy,” he tried again.
He gave a disgusted face and leaned back in his chair. “No.”
“Educators, Sammy, are the cornerstone to our youth.”
“What?”
“They lay the foundations for our great leaders - past, present, future.”
“Dean.”
“Without them, the world would be lost and without structure. And we’d all be dumb.”
With a sigh, “And apparently unlaid. Great, I get it.”
“Well,” Dean smirked. “You’re not really getting it. Or any, really. Maybe that’s why you’re always so” and he curled his lips together, furrowed his eyebrows, and basically gave a typical Sam sad and tormented face.
“What?” he nearly shrieked. “I do not look like that!”
“All the time, Sammy. All the time.”
“Whatever,” he huffed. “Do you want to know what’s going on?”
“Yeah, fine.”
Another strained look flashed on his face, pissed at Dean for being in that kind of a mood and not seeming to care what was going on. Or that Sam totally connected the dots all on his own with his own time on his own research without wasting time screwing someone so close to the case - given their little agreement to not be involved during a case. Yeah, he was still talking to Andie from the Chicago job, but he kept his professional hat on and still found all the answers while restraining himself from doing anything stupid. Sam was good at research. Dean was good at doing everything wrong.
Sam moved to his bed, facing Dean, and handed over some pages he’d printed out. “Remember those blonde girls? They kept playing all the patty-cake games every time we were there. No matter what was going on around us?”
Dean took the papers and read through the text. “Yeah, the Damien twins.”
“The games they’re singing? It’s happening at the center. The first one,” and Sam quickly got up to sit next to Dean so he could trace along the words he was talking about. “The pat-a-cake one. Look, ‘pat it and prick it -”
Dean continued “Mark it with a B.”
“Yeah,” Sam smiled, still happy that he’d figured it all out (even if the Family Channel’s movie-of-the-week prompted him to the answer. He wasn’t going to tell Dean that. Like ever.) “And ‘put it in the oven for baby and me.’”
His head picked up and looked confused, then turned into disturbed. “Are you serious? These girls said this and someone ends up in the oven?”
Nodding, Sam grabbed another piece from Dean’s hands, putting it on top. “And this one. Miss Suzy. ‘Behind the refrigerator, there lay a piece of glass. Miss Suzie sat upon it and cut her little -“
“This is clearly saying … you know. She was cut on her back.”
“It’s the song.”
Dean shrugged. “So, you think these girls are mind-controlling everyone to follow their games? They say jump and the others do it?”
“Yeah. I found here,” and he pointed at another piece of paper. “A little occult that started up in Terrell, Missouri. A few chosen children were actually possessed and acted as elders, influencing the others to do what they wanted.”
“Where’s Terrell?”
“Two towns to the south.”
Dean sighed and looked through the papers again, and then asked carefully. “We have to torch two kids?”
“Bobby found something that might reverse the initial spell.”
“Might?”
“Dean, we don’t have much time. These are little kids. We have to do whatever’s possible.”
He handed the papers back to Sam. “Okay, Miss Lisa said they’re going to the zoo tomorrow. We can probably piggyback onto the visit and corner the girls.” Sam gave him a look. “What?”
“Miss Lisa?”
“Yeah.”
“You actually call her Miss?”
Dean did his best to steel his face, but a little smirk crept forward. “Yeah, she likes that.”
Sam frowned and turned away from him. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
*
“So what is the next game?” Dean asked as they followed ten or so feet behind the day care group, trying to not be too imposing, but keeping an eye on all the kids.
Sam pulled a piece of paper from inside his jacket and unfolded it. “Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack. All dressed in black, black, black. With silver -”
Dean snatched the paper from his hands in annoyance. There was no way he’d listen to Sam recite playground games any longer than he had to. “What’s the juicy part?” His eyes grazed the paper, and he looked back to Sam, confused. “Nothing happens. This girl’s just dressed in black and borrows money from Grandma.”
Just then, the group split and took different directions, but one little girl stood before them. Not moving. The guys slowed their steps and watched, waiting for her to do something. Sam whispered, “Silver buttons.”
“No, shhhh -” Dean stopped himself as one of the nearby kids looked at him. “Sheese. I am so hungry, I could really go for a cheese sandwich.” The kid turned back around, laughing at him.
Her little legs took her down a path behind one of the groups, but took a quick turn at another fork in the path. Sam and Dean jogged after her, but Sam spotted the twin girls slowing down and watching the girl until they came to a complete stop. “Dean!”
He looked over to the girls, then back to the one in black. “You go, I got her.”
Sam frowned when Dean took over, leaving him no option. He crept up to the girls, who were unfazed by his presence, and pulled out the journal to find the incantation Bobby had given him the night before.
*
Dean always thought himself to be pretty fit. But when a little five-year-old is outrunning you, you really have to rely on the eerily comfortable thought that she was possessed. So it’s not like she would really beat him in any sort of leg race. It’s just that those creepy Redrum Twins were doing their best at keeping her on task to do … whatever. Dean still wasn’t sure.
When she neared the Pachyderm house, her speed slowed until she reached a fence and began to climb. He watched the humongous elephants traipsing through their habitat. Casually stomping their feet with thunderous tremors. “Oh, fudge,” he not-quite-cursed. Too used to not using real swear words, he couldn’t stop it now. “No, no!” he called out, but she wouldn’t stop. He huffed and started climbing up behind her, keeping one eye glued to her, making she didn’t fall, and another on the openings in the fencing.
At the top, she swung a leg over and started with the other. Dean quickly grabbed onto that ankle and pulled. Her strength was not great, but fairly equal to his given her current state, and he had a hard time getting her back over. He resigned to simply holding her in place so she wouldn’t fall into the elephant pit. “Sam!” he yelled.
*
As Sam finished up the incantation, he sighed with relief and closed the book. Until the girls turned and both faced him, with strange, scarily blank faces. His smile faltered into worry. They watched as he pulled the book open and began reading. Again.
This time, the girls slowly neared him, in step with each other. He chanted Latin, getting a bit louder as they got closer, and moving a few steps back in time with their movements. He could hear noises going on just beyond the path that Dean took and he prayed that the crowd was reacting more to Dean than anything tragic happening to that girl.
His words grew more powerful from his mouth as his fear crept in but anger drowned it. Sam had finished, but started a third time, not quite sure what else to do. The girls were still winning the staring match and moving closer. In a normal case, he would likely fight with them, but they were kids. He had some standards.
When he was two lines in his fourth try, the girls’ eyes grew black, then turned white. Their heads arched to the sky and the mouths flew open, black smoke screaming out of each one, blasting its way to the clouds above. When the girls dropped to the ground, he stuffed the journal back into his jacket and knelt to them. He could feel heartbeats - though faint, they were there, thankfully.
Miss Lisa rushed over and huddled over them, stroking their faces and sounding hysterical. “Oh my God. Jessica and Sarah!” She looked up to Sam. “Are they okay?”
“Yeah, they’ll be fine.” He stood and tried to call Dean, but before he hit send, the little girl in black came marching around a corner, breaking into an all-out run for Miss Lisa’s arms. Sam rushed to the pathway and found Dean strolling over. “Hey, man,” and he lightly grabbed at Dean’s shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just stuck on the fence for a while.”
Sam looked curious, confused.
“Miss Mary Mack? Wanted to see the elephants jump over the fence.”
His eyes went large.
Dean nodded with a slight smile. “Yeah, she was on top and I kept tugging on her leg.”
“Oh, shit.”
Miss Lisa’s voice called out, “Language!”
*
Dean held Miss Lisa against him as he leaned at the Impala’s driver’s side door, taking every bit of her tongue that she could manage to give, and basically giving anyone in the area the show of a lifetime. Sam sat in the passenger seat and could see Dean’s ass pressed against the window, and then her hands creeping down to squeeze at him through his jeans before dipping fingers into the back of the denim.
He gave the most disgusted face possible and crossed his arms, looking out his window.
Children’s voices filled the air, forcing them apart. Miss Lisa pulled a thumb across his bottom lip to clear away her lipstick.
“You know,” he started with a more-than-usual-rough, low voice. “I am a big supporter of education.”
She dragged an open palm down his chest. “You certainly are a quick learner.”
His response was a cross between a moan and a laugh. “If I ever come anywhere near Elwood, I am enrolling in your school.”
With a laugh, she leaned forward for another thorough kiss. Her fingers flicked her goodbye as she joined the students at the big yellow school bus across the lot.
Inside the Impala, Dean smacked Sam’s shoulder, chuckling. “Looks like I get to toss your phone now.”
“It had nothing to do with my swearing!”
“Yeah, but you still did it, even while I watched myself the whole damned time.”
Sam smiled, tipping his head to the side. “Hmm.”
“What?”
Happily, Sam declared, “You just swore.”
“Did not.”
“Yeah, you did, Dean. You said Damn!”
Dean’s face scrunched up as he started the car. “Whatever, we’re away from the kids. Doesn’t count. Besides, it was only during the case. That thing was done as soon as the Bobsy Twins threw up smoke.”
“Then my swearing doesn’t count either and I keep my phone.”
“You’re such a girl with that thing.”
“Whatever,” Sam muttered.
Dean looked over, and with a tiny smile reached into the backseat for his box of tapes. “Here,” and he dropped it in Sam’s lap. “You can pick what we listen to.”
Another grumble. “Yeah, that’s fair. It’s all shitty music.”
“I am ignoring that.”
“Whatever.”
“Just be grateful. This is the closest you’re getting to the radio.”
Next | Can't Find My Way Back Home | When Andie has visions of Sam in rough shape and Dean loses track of his brother, they team up (to Dean's reluctance) to get him back. But things get complicated when Andie is drawn into the situation and is actually a key piece of the pie.