Vagabond Roaming (2/?)
Title: Vagabond Roaming
Fandom(s): SPN/Grimm Crossover. Supergrimm.
Pairing: Dean/Nick.
Rating: T. Ratings will go up.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Dean and Sam were sent to Portland, Oregon to investigate a possible creature attack when three mutilated corpses turned up. The brothers never expected to end up chasing the same monster alongside Detective Nick Burkhardt.
Cross-posted to:
thecenturi0n,
grimm-fic,
sn_slash,
spn_fics,
( Chapter 1 ) ( Chapter 2 )
"23 Derry Road, there it is." Sam gestured to a dark blue house down the road. The recent victim's family home looked quaint with its rocking chair set on the porch and white picket fence.
To Dean's dismay, there was a large Great Dane lounging on the porch in front of the door, relaxing in the shade.
Dean pulled to the side of the road and parked the Impala. "Let's hope the guy isn't bite-y", he mumbled.
Sam and Dean got out of the car and shut the doors behind them. They walked across the street towards the house. Dean opened the picketed door and closed it behind them. The Dane's head rose when it heard the gate open and stared unblinkingly at the approaching men in suits.
Dean's steps faltered as they reached the porch but Sam just continued up the stairs. The Dane kept its eyes trained on Sam as he walked around the dog to reach the door. Dean then took that as his cue to walk up the steps and around the dog. The dog stared at him in the same fashion.
"Okay, that dog is creepy," said Dean, watching the dog behind him that was still staring at him as Sam rang the doorbell. Sam chuckled but then his face slid into neutral when the door opened. Dean quickly followed suit, settling into his act.
"Who are-" an older gentleman with greying hair stopped short when he saw the flipped badges. He frowned as they pocketed them. "Fellas, I'm tired of talking to the police. I already said everything I possibly could. Can't you let a family mourn in peace?"
"We're extremely sorry for your loss," admonished Dean. "But we are a different division and we pride ourselves in being more thorough. If you could answer some questions, we'll be able to close the case quickly. It won't take long."
The older gentlemen, presumably the victim's father, sighed. "Alright, come in." He turned to the side to let them in and closed the door. "We can talk in here," he said as he led them through an archway into what was likely the living room.
Dean and Sam sat down on the love seats across where the victim's father sat on a leather recliner. Once they were settled, Mr. McKellen spoke. "What do you want to know?"
"Has your daughter been acting strange lately? Like out of the norm?" Dean started off.
Mr. McKellen appeared confused by the unexpected question. "Strange?"
"Yeah, like eating more often, or sneaking out at night?" Dean trailed off.
"I-I don't know. My Sarah was just home from college break, it's been a while since I actually saw her, but she does regularly call us twice a week," Mr. McKellen said. "But no, she doesn't sneak out at night... she isn't that sort. She is-" he choked, "Sorry, was honestly a good girl. She'd tell us if she needed to go out."
"Uh-huh, okay. What about strange... smells?" Sam inquired.
"Smells?"
"Yeah, like sulfur," Sam gestured his hand in the air to nothing.
"…No. Nothing like that." Now Mr. McKellen looked a little disturbed by their questions.
Sam rushed to push the conversation back to as normal as possible. "Could you tell us about your daughter, then?"
"Yeah, speaking of, may I look around your daughter's room?" Dean asked before the victim's father could answer Sam's question.
"Uh, yes. Up the stairs, first door on the right." Mr. McKellen gestured to the stairs.
Dean mumbled a thanks as the man turned back to respond to Sam's question. Dean walked to the stairs and found the room as directed.
He peered into the room to survey it and then walked in. He was glad the room wasn't dreadfully girly. In fact, the victim seemed to have favored green. Dean looked through high school varsity soccer and dance trophies on a shelf and team photos in frames.
Above the bed were multiple photos of the victim and a boy. Some of them were of them kissing. Her boyfriend, Dean guessed. Not a bad looking dude. There were also some pictures of Sarah with her friends.
He walked over to the desk and picked up magazines. A brown book hidden between several textbooks next to the computer caught his eye. He set the magazines down and took the brown book.
It was a leather-bound journal, or more accurately, a diary. He flipped through the pages; she wrote every single day since sometime last year even while in college. His eyebrows rose further and further up towards his hairline with each passing page towards the end.
Wow. Dean let a breath he hadn't known he was holding. While Sarah honestly loved her boyfriend of two years, she also harbored feelings for another person, a close friend - a girl.
Dean felt like he was reading a script of a soap show. It became apparent that she didn't want to leave her boyfriend, Malcolm, because he was a little controlling but she was convinced it was because he loved her too much, so she never acted on her emerging feelings for her friend. However, it was getting increasingly harder each day to stop letting lingering touches stay on her friend's shoulder or letting her fingers thread through her red hair.
That was hot. Dean paused reading. The victim was really poetic when it came to this girl. He flipped the pages again to look for more clues about anything out of ordinary. Besides her bisexual tendencies, of course. He could find none besides the fact that her last entry was more than a few days before her death. Although it might be good to check in with the victim's boyfriend - he probably could fill in a little more detail. And Dean might be able to figure out why he tried to control her.
Dean decided that he was lingering too long, and exited the room. He found Sam just finishing up his interview with Mr. McKellen.
Sam looked up at Dean who was coming down the stairs. He looked back at Mr. McKellen and stood up. Mr. McKellen stood up as well. Sam took his hand and shook it. "Thank you very much for your time. We'll do our best to close the case as soon as we can. For your family and your daughter."
Mr. McKellen looked grateful. "Thank you, gentlemen," he said as he walked them to the door. "Let me know if I can do anything else for you. Good day." He closed the door behind Sam and Dean.
Dean patted the Great Dane's large head as they walked around the dog and walked back to the Impala. "Alright, so I found that the girl, Sarah had a controlling boyfriend that acted abnormally. She mentioned he had a little odd eating behavior but she didn't really go into it. Maybe we can look into him?" Sam nodded his head in agreement. They both got into the car then Dean started up the Impala and turned down the street. "I got his address."
"'Kay," Sam flipped open his black notepad and read through it.
"Um, another thing…" Dean trailed off, staring at the road ahead. He slowed down at a red light. Sam's silence encouraged him to go on. "When I snooped in Sarah's diary, I found something interesting. Sarah was a closet bisexual."
Sam, to his credit, looked only slightly surprised. "Oh really?"
"Yeah, she loved her boyfriend, er, Malcolm But she had this hardcore crush on her friend, Ellen."
"What does that have to do with anything?" Sam looked back to the road and tugged his tie loose from his collar.
"Well, I thought maybe this Ellen knows something," Dean said.
"Yeah, okay. You can go talk to her and I'll check out the ex." Sam shrugged indifferently. "That okay?"
Dean grinned boyishly. "And meet a real lesbian? I'm down for it."
Sam's response was to roll his eyes.
...
The boyfriend's house wasn't so far from the victim's house. In fact, he lived three streets over in an apartment building that was family-owned. Sam went to the apartment building to speak to the ex-boyfriend at room 405, while Dean drove a couple more streets down to see the victim's friend at her home.
He pulled up to the house and parked. It seemed all the houses on this street were Victorian-style. But Dean never held an interest for architecture. He rang the doorbell and he was greeted to a small red-headed pixie with big green eyes.
She raised an eyebrow at the stranger in the suit. "Um, can I help you?"
Dean flashed his badge. "Agent Bonham. Hi. Ellen, right?"
"Yes...?"
Dean cleared his throat. "I'm investigating Sarah McKellen's death and I came here when it became apparent you two were pretty close. I'd like to know more about her from you if you have time."
"Um, my parents aren't home but if you make it quick..."
Dean nodded. "Of course."
Ellen let Dean into the house and led him into the kitchen where she poured him a glass of lemonade in a show of decent manners.
Dean set the glass down after taking a long sip. "So, tell me all you can."
...
Dean swung back to the apartment to meet Sam and found him standing on the sidewalk. Sam opened the door as Dean pulled up and then got in. "Hey."
"Hey. Find anything?" Dean turned the Impala to the road, fully intent on finding a diner to satisfy his growling stomach.
"Yeah... lots," Sam replied. "Dude, this Malcolm guy is creepy as hell."
"Why?"
"He let me in, okay. All was fine and dandy, but the way he spoke to me, and his body language was so… so…" Sam paused. "He had this strange look on his eyes, it- it's impossible to describe. It was like he knew something, and he just kept smiling. And when he talks, it's steady-"
"So-," Dean began to interrupt.
"His girlfriend of two years just died - shouldn't he be distraught?"
Dean quieted and gazed at the road ahead of him. "Good point there." Dean's head whipped to a large sign coming upon the horizon. 'Frank's Diner'. Finally, food. He pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.
Dean and Sam walked in, the door letting out a jingle, and sat at a table near a window. Sam pulled out his laptop from his bag and opened it, intent on doing research. Dean took off his suit jacket, threw it over the back of the chair and rolled his sleeves up and loosened his tie. Finally, he thought as he sat down and sighed.
He casually surveyed the diner before picking up the greasy menu in front of him, studying his choices. Sam was already ready. When a blonde and busty waitress came by, she took their orders, whilst of course dropping sultry flirtatious moves onto Dean. Dean sat back and simply encouraged her with a wink and a smile.
"What should we do about the creepy ex-boyfriend, then?" Sam asked when the waitress left.
"I dunno. What you explained about him is definitely odd. Should we track him at his place?" Dean got up and walked to the old-time jukebox that was near their table. "See if he does something inhuman?" He looked at the song choices and inserted a couple of coins before selecting a soft rock song.
"Yeah. Just to be sure…" Sam trailed off when the waitress came back with their orders.
An all-American burger and a chicken salad. Dean often wondered if Sam was attempting to shift his preferences to vegetarian.
Dean pulled out a leather-bound book from his suit jacket. "Remember I told you that Sarah had a diary?"
"You stole her diary?"
"More like borrowed. Anyway," he flipped open the bound journal. "Sarah wrote down everything. She could've been an awesome chronologist if she was a hunter."
"That's a rather large word for you, Dean."
"Shut up."
Sam simply smiled and leaned on the palm as his hand as Dean continued.
"Anyway. She wrote down a few of his, what she called "outbursts". He would get in these mood swings that cause him to be irrational and cruel, but he never laid a hand on her, at least never in an assault."
"Yeah, he was kind of like that when I spoke to him earlier."
"Still wanna check him out?"
"Definitely. Though let's visit Sarah at the morgue first."
"You got it." Dean was just lifting his super melted cheeseburger with double bacon when the diner bell rang as the door swung open. He paused mid-bite in surprise when a familiar face walked in, followed by another.
It was Detective Burkhardt and his partner.
When he rounded the corner, he caught Dean's eyes and looked equally surprised. Dean dropped his burger and nudged Sam.
Sam looked up in shock as they walked over, hastily shut his laptop and slid into character. "Detectives, what a surprise."
Detective Burkhardt nodded and looked at his partner. "These two fellas are Feds, Agents Bonham and Page. They were at the crime scene earlier today making inquiries. This is my partner Hank."
Dean smirked and raised his beer bottle. "Hey."
"Seems like I caught you both on a break, huh?"
"Yep," Dean lifted his burger again. "Worked 36 hours straight, need a break sometime, right?" He took a couple of bites. "Sit down, if you like. We're in the same business after all," Dean gestured with his half-eaten burger to the two empty seats across them.
"Wouldn't want to impose," Burkhardt said.
"No, no. By all means," Sam smiled tightly.
Hank's phone rang and he took it. He spoke into it for a few seconds and hung up. He nudged his partner and whispered in his ear. Burkhardt nodded, "Yeah sure, I'll see you there." Hank turned and left the diner.
Dean curiously watched Hank leave, guessing he had to do something for the case. Or not. Nick sat down and ordered a bottle of beer and a sandwich when the waitress came around.
"Aren't you on duty?"
Burkhardt grinned boyishly in response. "What my superiors don't know won't hurt them, huh?" He smiled coyly towards Dean.
The waitress returned as quickly as she left with a bottle of beer. The detective gratefully took the bottle as the waitress set down a small club sandwich in front of him.
"I like your attitude, detective," Dean raised his beer.
Burkhardt raised his in recognition and they clinked their beer bottles. "What's your first name, Agent Bonham?"
"John."
"John, okay. We're just a couple of guys having lunch," Nick said before finally taking his bottle away from Dean's. "Just call me Nick."
Dean's eyes flickered up from his plate and his eyes met the detective's. "Nick," he said slowly, as if trying out his name, a little uncomfortable to step into this new territory. Never was really the one to be on a first name basis with somebody on cop pay roll. And it was really not a great idea.
Sam cut in, breaking the silence that arose between them. "What brings you here?"
"Food break, my partner and I were on our way to the coroner," Nick said, sipping his beer. "Gonna see what they've found, the usual. He had an errand to run, so he'll be missed."
"Sounds fun."
Nick hummed in response.
Dean leaned forward, crossing his arms on the table. "Suppose you won't let us know about what you find at the coroners later, huh?"
"Hmm, no I don't think so," Nick smiled playfully. "Suppose it'd be fun to let you Feds do some dirty work."
"Rude," Dean pouted jokingly.
"Well, you know…" Nick laughed.
They chatted away for many minutes, seemingly hitting it off while Dean barely had to stay in character. Soon though, Sam grew incredibly awkward and felt like a moose at the table. He nudged Dean and leaned towards his ear to whisper, "Dude, we can't stay long. We'd risk getting caught in the act."
"Relax."
"No I can't, man. We're just lucky he doesn't recognize us as fugitives," Sam whispered frantically.
Dean looked at the detective who was looking at him as they talked, although he seemed to be doing his best to show he wasn't trying to listen. The guy was good.
And Sam was right. This was getting dangerous. It was time to go.
Dean leaned back in the chair and stretched his arms behind his head. "Weeell, we gotta get goin'." He sighed as he released his arms.
Sam discreetly pulled out some cash, which may or may not have been legally obtained, and covered the bill for both himself and Dean.
Nick put down his sandwich and wiped his hands on his jeans. He put out his hand to Dean while discreetly studying him as a cop would a suspect. Dean kept his gaze calm as he grasped the detective's hand as the other spoke.
"It was nice meeting you both again. Glad you're not your typical straight-laced Feds," he smiled genuinely.
Dean snorted. "You have no idea."
Nick raised an eyebrow but Sam butted in, "Good to see you, detective," he said. He got up, along with Dean.
"See ya around, Nicky." Dean winked and smiled before they left the table and walked out of the diner; the door letting out a jingle.
( next chapter )