Over the Hills & Far Away (Chapter 4b)
Title: Over the Hills & Far Away - CHAPTER 4B
Author(s): operationhades
Artist: evian_fork
Warning: few curse words, once or twice.
Summary: Sam was a fourteen year old mutant when he walked in on an injured Dean staring up at the barrel of a gun held by John Winchester. And after that, with Sam at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning and Dean throwing John, every other hunter in the country, and a pissed Yellow Eyed Demon of their trail, thing's only get progressively worse.
4B
CHAPTER FOUR (4B)
Friday, April 30th, 12:14pm:
The gate slid open without even a rattle, letting him slip through towards the large doors. His motorcycle came to a stop and he kicked out the foot rest to keep him still, pulling off his helmet at the same time. The Westchester Manor still looked the same after four months of being away from it, still standing and without a scratch mark, and Logan finally felt some of his apprehension ease.
Sliding off the motorcycle, he rested the helmet against his hip and walked towards the garage, keying in the code and waiting for the door to open up. Once done, he closed it back shut and walked through towards the door leading to the mansion, climbing a few stairs to come out into the bright light of the kitchen. A few of the staff were milling around, probably getting snacks and little things for the kids to eat ready, and Logan grunted his acknowledgement when Jenny visibly brightened up and waved at him, and Laura told him to move it with a jab of a pointed knife.
He left the kitchen, entering out into one of many hallways, and weaved through the maze that was the mansion until he ended up right at the Professor's office. Without knocking, he let himself in, the apprehension he'd been feeling ever since that creepy looking house back in January with the black eyed chick coming back in a tidal wave of pressure. He could see the Professor looking surprised, he could see the Professor about to speak, and he had it all planned, everything he was going to say, word for word to make the Professor believe him, and all of that preparation over the long drive back here went down the sink the moment he opened his mouth and just blurted a string of pure nonsense.
“Logan,” The Professor interrupted, eyes wide with concern. “Logan, slow down.”
“... iron and rock salt and werewolves - actual, real, goddamn werewolves, and not just little fakes like me running around, ripping people apart and eating their hearts - and you have to shoot them with silver just like shapeshifters who are really fucking psycho and-”
“-Logan!”
Holding his hands out, Logan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Look, Professor, just read my mind.”
“That is...”
“Ain't no other way I can think of telling ya, prof. So come on, read it.”
Charles frowned, looking worried for a moment before nodding, and lifted two fingers up to his forehead. Immediately, Logan felt himself get pulled back to the night he'd driven up to the creepy looking house, to the pale, flickering woman screaming and shrieking, to Dean tumbling down the stairs with two shotguns at hand, to the demon chick, to driving off with Dean telling him everything, to the few hunts he'd accompanied the kid and realised said kid was caught up in some deep shit to do with the demon that had killed their mother, to everything.
Suddenly, he came back to himself, gasping and slapping at his chest to steady his breathing. A quick glance at the Professor showed him Charles looking pale, eyes tight with the new knowledge.
“Oh my,” he breathed, massaging at his temples. “This... This is quite unexpected...”
Snorting - because wasn't that an understatement - Logan collapsed into one of the too-soft chairs in the office.
“Actually...” The professor murmured to himself, looking up with a thoughtful expression. “This reminds me of our new mutant.”
Logan cocked an eyebrow. “What new mutant?”
The professor waved a thin delicate hand as if to push Logan's question away. “Jessica Moore. She came here after being attacked. I do believe her attacker might be responsible for the recent deaths of multiple mutants across the state, Logan. Have you heard of it?”
With the second eyebrow rising up to meet the first, Logan sat up in his chair. “You don't mean... The ones where there's some sort of malfunction and the house catches on fire?”
Charles nodded. “Yes, those. I'm surprised it's caught your attention.”
Of course it had, Dean had all but gone berserk when he'd found out about it. Logan still didn't know why those particular events had caught the guy's attention - they were all ruled as accidents weren't they? Usually, kid looked for the strange stuff, the weird crap like a buncha guys dying on a certain stretch of road. “Didn't know they were all mutants.” He muttered.
“Perhaps this ties in together...? Let me call her in.” The professor continued on musing, obviously not hearing Logan's muttered words. He shrugged in lieu of a reply, figuring listening to this new kid retell her story couldn't hurt. If she mentioned black eyes or black smoke, then they had a big, big, problem. And if she didn't, well, then it was just some normal sick fuck then, wasn't it?
He lounged about, feeling better for having told the professor everything there was to tell, wondering what Dean was up to then. Now that he understood the sorta crap life their bastard of a Dad had raised them in, Logan thought he could understand a bit more of the younger kid, Sam, and that wary, grown up expression he got sometimes. Dean had the same face, more thunderous and rare, only appearing for a split second before disappearing.
A knock sounded on the door, three strong rasps, that gained the professor's admittance. The door opened up slightly, a head of long blonde hair popping in before the girl fully stepped inside, looking nervous but confident. She didn't look like much - not to Logan, anyway - slightly willowy, maybe sixteen, seventeen, more prone to doing her nails up then fighting and escaping something that might be a demon, but if she was a mutant, then she probably had a good enough power to help her escape.
“Ah, Ms. Moore, please, sit.” The teenager walked towards them, sitting on a chair next to Logan with only a suspicious glance his way. Logan didn't bother trying to be polite and smile, just lazily waved a hand in her general direction and considered his social duty fulfilled. Charles frowned at his lack of etiquette, but didn't press, instead steeping his fingers together and turning to face Jessica. “Ms. Moore, I do apologise for having to ask this of you again, but if you could please tell us about what happened to you again? It's imperative you leave no information out, even the most absurd.”
She eyed them both warily, thinking about it before nodding. “He just... Blasted through the front door like it was paper.” She started off, shrugging in agitation. “I'd never seen him before, and I didn't know what he wanted until he just looked at me and, and, and, called me wrong.” A hiccup; wringing her hands together. “Nothing hurt him, not knives, not even my fire-”
Oh. So kid had fire going on for her. Damn, that had got to be nice.
“-he just shrugged it all off, and threw his hand at me and I just hit a wall. I don't know how, or why, but he was going to kill me, he even said it. He asked me what I wanted my last words to be.” She looked up, establishing eye contact with them, her own wide and watery with residual fear. “He- he- did something, I don't know what, but it felt like I couldn't breathe, and that something was about to start tearing at my stomach, and then he just says it's my lucky day, and that he's not going to kill me.”
“Why do you think he did that, Ms. Moore? Why you?”
“I don't know!” She cried, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. “You don't think I've been asking myself that ever since I got the hell out of there? As long as it stays the hell away from me, I've decided I don't care!” She got up, tugging at her clothes and nervously straightening them out. “That thing wasn't human. Nobody has that much power, not even us, and- and- and- he had yellow eyes.”
That got Logan and the professor's attention, both of them looking at her in confusion. “You mean like Nightcrawler?” Logan asked, wondering what the deal with yellow eyes could be. Plus yellow eyes? Not a demon then. Still a threat though.
But Jessica shook her head, hair swaying side to side with the movement. “No, at first I thought it was like him, but more murky... Like... Dirty, you know? And not all the time, sometimes it was normal, other times, yellow.”
Charles nodded, despite Logan feeling very adequately like he didn't know. Grunting in lieu of actually answering, Logan turned to the professor with a shake of his head. “Not one of them, then. They had black eyes and exploded in black smoke-”
“-Yeah!” Jessica interrupted, jumping on the balls of her feet. “After he let me go, he like, vomited out of his body in a... a... a... torrent! Yeah, a torrent of black smoke! And it was churning and disgusting and disappeared off while the body dropped like a sack of potatoes.”
Sharing a glance, Logan sat back and watched as the professor turned to his still steeped fingers, brows furrowing together in thought. “Hmm,” he hummed. “This is incredibly troubling news...”
Logan didn't know anything about a demon having yellow eyes. Were they maybe a different rank? Weaker? Did it mean anything other than just something weird like preference? He shrugged to himself, not having an answer, because he didn't know this shit. Only ones who knew it were the Winchester's and all those other crazy bastards calling themselves Hunter-
-“Sam.”
Charles looked up to him, expression confused. “What did you say, Logan?”
“Sam.” He repeated himself, sitting up in his chair. “This is their family stuff, right? They know this shit, they grew up with this shit and were dealing with it long before they came here. Sam would know if this yellow eyed bastard is the same deal or something even worse.”
So they called Sam, and Jessica seated herself back on her chair again, and they waited until Sam came. The boy took longer than Jessica had, peeking through the door Jessica had left open and waiting until Charles gestured him in. It was obvious from Sam's face he didn't know why he was there, and damn, the kid had gotten taller. And bigger.
On spotting Jessica, Sam smiled awkwardly, getting a shy smile in return, which all had Logan staring at the two in begrudged amusement at the little hearts flying between them. Charles coughed pointedly, giving Logan a stern look for his enjoyment of their teenage woes, and smiled becomingly at Sam.
“Is something wrong?” Sam asked carefully, eyes taking in Logan without giving away any reaction.
Jessica nodded at him, eyes confused but sharp. “I-It's about that guy, the one that attacked me. I told them everything I told you.”
Logan turned sharply to face her, noticing only moments after Charles calm nod and cursing in his head. The professor knew she'd told Sam, probably took a look inside or whatever it is mind readers like him and Jean did, and found out about it, so now Logan was literally the only one that hadn't known.
Calm down, Logan, the professor's voice slithered in between his ears. This makes matters far more easier for us.
The kid awkwardly shifted on his foot, looking between Charles and Logan with a small frown. “And...?”
Exasperated, Logan threw himself back in his seat, getting comfortable. “We know 'bout demons, kid. Don't have to try that stupid little innocent game. We just need to know if they're the ones killin' mutants round the country.”
Finally, the kid's expression broke, surprise filtering across his face and making him look just as young as he was. “Wha...?” He gaped, staring at Logan wide eyed. “Wait, how do you know about demons?” He turned to the professor, still surprised. “Since when did you learn about demons?”
“Sam,” the professor soothed, keeping his voice low and serious. “It's come to our recent attention that there's been a series of fires around the country - all presumed accidents - that have killed mutants. Do you maybe know anything about them...?”
The kid's mouth shut tight, eyes shutting close in despair. He leaned on the chair Jessica was sitting on, causing the girl to worry and touch him lightly on the arm, but didn't respond for a while.
Logan clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together at the obvious display of knowledge - just like the way Dean had reacted when he'd read a random little blurb inside a newspaper to a lost loved one. He couldn't tell what it was that had the two kids worked up, but it was something big alright, something huge.
“What is it?” He snapped, all pretence that this was something normal or maybe manageable flying out of the window.
Sam swallowed once before getting a grip on himself, opening his eyes but not looking up. “Our mom was killed by a demon.” He admitted quietly, staring down at his feet.
Logan stared at the kid, turning over to look at an equally befuddled Charles, before something clicked in his head and he looked back at Sam. “Let me guess, a fire accident.”
Sam nodded, lips tugging down in a frown. “They said it was an accident, even though the fire originated on the ceiling and they found traces of her there too. Dad's been searching for the demon since.”
“My God.” Charles breathed, once more looking pale at the information.
Logan cursed, everything suddenly making sense. A demon - one certain demon with a fondness for burning his victims - had killed the kid's mother. The dad had gone on a revenge spree, training up his kids in the art of dealing with monsters and fairytale creatures so they could all be prepared. Sam's a mutant, him and Dean kept it from their Dad, then Dad found out and Sam and Dean came here. Dean left Sam here, then went back out to do what he'd been raised to do, and ever since that demon chick popped up and tried intimidating an answer out of Dean, he'd stumbled his way into finding the trail of the thing that had killed his Mom.
Sam must've been thinking the exact same thing, because his hazel slanted eyes widened dramatically, body going taut with tension as he stared at an increasingly agitated Logan. “Oh shit,” he murmured, colour draining from his face. “Oh shit, does Dean know about this?”
Running a hand through his hair, Logan cursed himself again for not wondering why Dean had pushed him to come check in with the professor, make sure everyone was OK, filling him up with bull just to get him to leave.
“Yeah...” He finally answered, running a hand through his hair. “I think he does.”
NEXT CHAPTER
MASTERPOST
Author(s): operationhades
Artist: evian_fork
Warning: few curse words, once or twice.
Summary: Sam was a fourteen year old mutant when he walked in on an injured Dean staring up at the barrel of a gun held by John Winchester. And after that, with Sam at the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning and Dean throwing John, every other hunter in the country, and a pissed Yellow Eyed Demon of their trail, thing's only get progressively worse.
4B
CHAPTER FOUR (4B)
Friday, April 30th, 12:14pm:
The gate slid open without even a rattle, letting him slip through towards the large doors. His motorcycle came to a stop and he kicked out the foot rest to keep him still, pulling off his helmet at the same time. The Westchester Manor still looked the same after four months of being away from it, still standing and without a scratch mark, and Logan finally felt some of his apprehension ease.
Sliding off the motorcycle, he rested the helmet against his hip and walked towards the garage, keying in the code and waiting for the door to open up. Once done, he closed it back shut and walked through towards the door leading to the mansion, climbing a few stairs to come out into the bright light of the kitchen. A few of the staff were milling around, probably getting snacks and little things for the kids to eat ready, and Logan grunted his acknowledgement when Jenny visibly brightened up and waved at him, and Laura told him to move it with a jab of a pointed knife.
He left the kitchen, entering out into one of many hallways, and weaved through the maze that was the mansion until he ended up right at the Professor's office. Without knocking, he let himself in, the apprehension he'd been feeling ever since that creepy looking house back in January with the black eyed chick coming back in a tidal wave of pressure. He could see the Professor looking surprised, he could see the Professor about to speak, and he had it all planned, everything he was going to say, word for word to make the Professor believe him, and all of that preparation over the long drive back here went down the sink the moment he opened his mouth and just blurted a string of pure nonsense.
“Logan,” The Professor interrupted, eyes wide with concern. “Logan, slow down.”
“... iron and rock salt and werewolves - actual, real, goddamn werewolves, and not just little fakes like me running around, ripping people apart and eating their hearts - and you have to shoot them with silver just like shapeshifters who are really fucking psycho and-”
“-Logan!”
Holding his hands out, Logan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Look, Professor, just read my mind.”
“That is...”
“Ain't no other way I can think of telling ya, prof. So come on, read it.”
Charles frowned, looking worried for a moment before nodding, and lifted two fingers up to his forehead. Immediately, Logan felt himself get pulled back to the night he'd driven up to the creepy looking house, to the pale, flickering woman screaming and shrieking, to Dean tumbling down the stairs with two shotguns at hand, to the demon chick, to driving off with Dean telling him everything, to the few hunts he'd accompanied the kid and realised said kid was caught up in some deep shit to do with the demon that had killed their mother, to everything.
Suddenly, he came back to himself, gasping and slapping at his chest to steady his breathing. A quick glance at the Professor showed him Charles looking pale, eyes tight with the new knowledge.
“Oh my,” he breathed, massaging at his temples. “This... This is quite unexpected...”
Snorting - because wasn't that an understatement - Logan collapsed into one of the too-soft chairs in the office.
“Actually...” The professor murmured to himself, looking up with a thoughtful expression. “This reminds me of our new mutant.”
Logan cocked an eyebrow. “What new mutant?”
The professor waved a thin delicate hand as if to push Logan's question away. “Jessica Moore. She came here after being attacked. I do believe her attacker might be responsible for the recent deaths of multiple mutants across the state, Logan. Have you heard of it?”
With the second eyebrow rising up to meet the first, Logan sat up in his chair. “You don't mean... The ones where there's some sort of malfunction and the house catches on fire?”
Charles nodded. “Yes, those. I'm surprised it's caught your attention.”
Of course it had, Dean had all but gone berserk when he'd found out about it. Logan still didn't know why those particular events had caught the guy's attention - they were all ruled as accidents weren't they? Usually, kid looked for the strange stuff, the weird crap like a buncha guys dying on a certain stretch of road. “Didn't know they were all mutants.” He muttered.
“Perhaps this ties in together...? Let me call her in.” The professor continued on musing, obviously not hearing Logan's muttered words. He shrugged in lieu of a reply, figuring listening to this new kid retell her story couldn't hurt. If she mentioned black eyes or black smoke, then they had a big, big, problem. And if she didn't, well, then it was just some normal sick fuck then, wasn't it?
He lounged about, feeling better for having told the professor everything there was to tell, wondering what Dean was up to then. Now that he understood the sorta crap life their bastard of a Dad had raised them in, Logan thought he could understand a bit more of the younger kid, Sam, and that wary, grown up expression he got sometimes. Dean had the same face, more thunderous and rare, only appearing for a split second before disappearing.
A knock sounded on the door, three strong rasps, that gained the professor's admittance. The door opened up slightly, a head of long blonde hair popping in before the girl fully stepped inside, looking nervous but confident. She didn't look like much - not to Logan, anyway - slightly willowy, maybe sixteen, seventeen, more prone to doing her nails up then fighting and escaping something that might be a demon, but if she was a mutant, then she probably had a good enough power to help her escape.
“Ah, Ms. Moore, please, sit.” The teenager walked towards them, sitting on a chair next to Logan with only a suspicious glance his way. Logan didn't bother trying to be polite and smile, just lazily waved a hand in her general direction and considered his social duty fulfilled. Charles frowned at his lack of etiquette, but didn't press, instead steeping his fingers together and turning to face Jessica. “Ms. Moore, I do apologise for having to ask this of you again, but if you could please tell us about what happened to you again? It's imperative you leave no information out, even the most absurd.”
She eyed them both warily, thinking about it before nodding. “He just... Blasted through the front door like it was paper.” She started off, shrugging in agitation. “I'd never seen him before, and I didn't know what he wanted until he just looked at me and, and, and, called me wrong.” A hiccup; wringing her hands together. “Nothing hurt him, not knives, not even my fire-”
Oh. So kid had fire going on for her. Damn, that had got to be nice.
“-he just shrugged it all off, and threw his hand at me and I just hit a wall. I don't know how, or why, but he was going to kill me, he even said it. He asked me what I wanted my last words to be.” She looked up, establishing eye contact with them, her own wide and watery with residual fear. “He- he- did something, I don't know what, but it felt like I couldn't breathe, and that something was about to start tearing at my stomach, and then he just says it's my lucky day, and that he's not going to kill me.”
“Why do you think he did that, Ms. Moore? Why you?”
“I don't know!” She cried, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. “You don't think I've been asking myself that ever since I got the hell out of there? As long as it stays the hell away from me, I've decided I don't care!” She got up, tugging at her clothes and nervously straightening them out. “That thing wasn't human. Nobody has that much power, not even us, and- and- and- he had yellow eyes.”
That got Logan and the professor's attention, both of them looking at her in confusion. “You mean like Nightcrawler?” Logan asked, wondering what the deal with yellow eyes could be. Plus yellow eyes? Not a demon then. Still a threat though.
But Jessica shook her head, hair swaying side to side with the movement. “No, at first I thought it was like him, but more murky... Like... Dirty, you know? And not all the time, sometimes it was normal, other times, yellow.”
Charles nodded, despite Logan feeling very adequately like he didn't know. Grunting in lieu of actually answering, Logan turned to the professor with a shake of his head. “Not one of them, then. They had black eyes and exploded in black smoke-”
“-Yeah!” Jessica interrupted, jumping on the balls of her feet. “After he let me go, he like, vomited out of his body in a... a... a... torrent! Yeah, a torrent of black smoke! And it was churning and disgusting and disappeared off while the body dropped like a sack of potatoes.”
Sharing a glance, Logan sat back and watched as the professor turned to his still steeped fingers, brows furrowing together in thought. “Hmm,” he hummed. “This is incredibly troubling news...”
Logan didn't know anything about a demon having yellow eyes. Were they maybe a different rank? Weaker? Did it mean anything other than just something weird like preference? He shrugged to himself, not having an answer, because he didn't know this shit. Only ones who knew it were the Winchester's and all those other crazy bastards calling themselves Hunter-
-“Sam.”
Charles looked up to him, expression confused. “What did you say, Logan?”
“Sam.” He repeated himself, sitting up in his chair. “This is their family stuff, right? They know this shit, they grew up with this shit and were dealing with it long before they came here. Sam would know if this yellow eyed bastard is the same deal or something even worse.”
So they called Sam, and Jessica seated herself back on her chair again, and they waited until Sam came. The boy took longer than Jessica had, peeking through the door Jessica had left open and waiting until Charles gestured him in. It was obvious from Sam's face he didn't know why he was there, and damn, the kid had gotten taller. And bigger.
On spotting Jessica, Sam smiled awkwardly, getting a shy smile in return, which all had Logan staring at the two in begrudged amusement at the little hearts flying between them. Charles coughed pointedly, giving Logan a stern look for his enjoyment of their teenage woes, and smiled becomingly at Sam.
“Is something wrong?” Sam asked carefully, eyes taking in Logan without giving away any reaction.
Jessica nodded at him, eyes confused but sharp. “I-It's about that guy, the one that attacked me. I told them everything I told you.”
Logan turned sharply to face her, noticing only moments after Charles calm nod and cursing in his head. The professor knew she'd told Sam, probably took a look inside or whatever it is mind readers like him and Jean did, and found out about it, so now Logan was literally the only one that hadn't known.
Calm down, Logan, the professor's voice slithered in between his ears. This makes matters far more easier for us.
The kid awkwardly shifted on his foot, looking between Charles and Logan with a small frown. “And...?”
Exasperated, Logan threw himself back in his seat, getting comfortable. “We know 'bout demons, kid. Don't have to try that stupid little innocent game. We just need to know if they're the ones killin' mutants round the country.”
Finally, the kid's expression broke, surprise filtering across his face and making him look just as young as he was. “Wha...?” He gaped, staring at Logan wide eyed. “Wait, how do you know about demons?” He turned to the professor, still surprised. “Since when did you learn about demons?”
“Sam,” the professor soothed, keeping his voice low and serious. “It's come to our recent attention that there's been a series of fires around the country - all presumed accidents - that have killed mutants. Do you maybe know anything about them...?”
The kid's mouth shut tight, eyes shutting close in despair. He leaned on the chair Jessica was sitting on, causing the girl to worry and touch him lightly on the arm, but didn't respond for a while.
Logan clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together at the obvious display of knowledge - just like the way Dean had reacted when he'd read a random little blurb inside a newspaper to a lost loved one. He couldn't tell what it was that had the two kids worked up, but it was something big alright, something huge.
“What is it?” He snapped, all pretence that this was something normal or maybe manageable flying out of the window.
Sam swallowed once before getting a grip on himself, opening his eyes but not looking up. “Our mom was killed by a demon.” He admitted quietly, staring down at his feet.
Logan stared at the kid, turning over to look at an equally befuddled Charles, before something clicked in his head and he looked back at Sam. “Let me guess, a fire accident.”
Sam nodded, lips tugging down in a frown. “They said it was an accident, even though the fire originated on the ceiling and they found traces of her there too. Dad's been searching for the demon since.”
“My God.” Charles breathed, once more looking pale at the information.
Logan cursed, everything suddenly making sense. A demon - one certain demon with a fondness for burning his victims - had killed the kid's mother. The dad had gone on a revenge spree, training up his kids in the art of dealing with monsters and fairytale creatures so they could all be prepared. Sam's a mutant, him and Dean kept it from their Dad, then Dad found out and Sam and Dean came here. Dean left Sam here, then went back out to do what he'd been raised to do, and ever since that demon chick popped up and tried intimidating an answer out of Dean, he'd stumbled his way into finding the trail of the thing that had killed his Mom.
Sam must've been thinking the exact same thing, because his hazel slanted eyes widened dramatically, body going taut with tension as he stared at an increasingly agitated Logan. “Oh shit,” he murmured, colour draining from his face. “Oh shit, does Dean know about this?”
Running a hand through his hair, Logan cursed himself again for not wondering why Dean had pushed him to come check in with the professor, make sure everyone was OK, filling him up with bull just to get him to leave.
“Yeah...” He finally answered, running a hand through his hair. “I think he does.”
NEXT CHAPTER
MASTERPOST