Come in From the Cold - Chapter Two

[theymp]

Title: Come in From the Cold (2/4)
Author: theymp
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Warning/Spoilers: Set during season 8
Summary: Seeking shelter with a handful of strangers and circled by beasts, who can Sam and Dean trust when they don't even trust each other?
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or its characters - these were created by Eric Kripke - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.

[Previous chapter]

Come in From the Cold - Chapter Two

"Did you see that too?" Dean gasped. Sam pulled a face at him as if to say he was laying it on a bit thick, but Dean just turned to the others in the room; he felt fully entitled to feel as freaked out as he did.

Cheryl nodded and took a couple of steps nearer. "What was it? Some sort of gargoyle?" she asked with an equal mix of trepidation and excitement in her voice. Dean couldn't help but be impressed.

"Was it a hellhound?"

Dean winced. He assumed his brother had intended to be discreet, but the weight of emotion behind the question seemed to make it echo throughout the room.

He shook his head, quite proud of himself for suppressing a shudder. Hellhounds were invisible to all but those waiting for their soul to be claimed in the last hours of a demonic deal. He supposed he was in the "privileged" position of being the only person ever to have seen one and still be alive.

Even five years later, there was no way he'd ever forget the sight of the monstrosities that had ripped him apart and fed on his entrails.

"Well, it seemed to like you," said Cheryl.

"It didn't seem to like Sam," added Aidan, with a scowl in Sam's direction.

Donnie scrunched up his face in thought. "Nah, actually, Sam followed us out. I think it was us it reacted to," he said, giving Aidan an apologetic shrug.

"Well, whatever, it's still out there somewhere," Aidan grumbled.

They all peered up into the darkness of the rafters.

~#~

The five of them were still staring up at the ceiling when the others came out from the kitchen to join them.

"Is everything all right?" asked Ted, puzzled by their strange behavior.

"We saw some sort of creature," Cheryl answered in a tone that was almost apologetic, although her expression darkened when she saw Lee's subsequent eye roll.

"It was a monster," added Donnie, "but it seemed to like Dean though."

Dean gave a modest shrug. He grinned at Karen as she handed him a mug of coffee with a shy smile, her eyes darting away from giving him eye contact. "Thank you," he said, "Karen, isn't it?"

Lee cleared his throat, "So, assuming this beast's real, it's somehow got into the church?" He didn't sound convinced.

Aidan sighed, casting another of his plentiful glares in Dean's direction. "I saw it with my own two eyes, man. Whatever it was, it wasn't... natural."

Dean sipped his coffee and gave another casual shrug.

"I'm sorry," said Ted, his voice shaking with anger, "but I've given you the benefit of the doubt for long enough. I'm not stupid. I saw the tattoo you both have when you changed and I heard you talking earlier. I know you know more than you're saying."

"Hey, we're not the bad guys here, padre," Dean chuckled.

"I know. I put holy water in the coffee," said Ted, pulling a false smile in return.

Aidan choked. "Isn't that like blasphemy or something?" he complained. He peered into his coffee with a combination of distrust and distaste, before putting it down untouched.

Dean nodded at Ted in approval, amused despite himself. "I noticed earlier that you'd started wearing your cross on the outside."

"You're hunters, aren't you?"

Sam and Dean froze.

Collecting himself, Dean gave a rictus smile. "Maybe that's why that grizzly went for us."

Ted's face was a struggle of conflicting emotions, but in the end he decided that perhaps discretion was the better part of valor. Hunters were not known for their sociability in his limited experience, and perhaps the brothers would respond better to a more private questioning later.

Lee made a sound of irritation. "So, whatever this animal is, are we sure it's not going to be dragging anything else in?" He unconsciously wiped his hands on his trousers. "I don't want to have to be carrying any more dead bodies, thank you very much."

"I'm sure no one else would want to inconvenience you by being killed," muttered Cheryl. She blushed as Aidan gave her an arched look that said: He's your friend's boyfriend.

"Well, it was hardly fitting that we just leave him lying there," interjected Ted.

"Yet somehow, putting him in a shed doesn't seem any more respectful. Anyway, it strikes me that the police are not going to thank us for disrupting the crime scene."

"Can it still be a crime scene if it's an animal attack, as you say?" teased Donnie.

"I never said it was an animal attack," Lee replied, with a cool look in Cheryl and Aidan's direction. He paused for a moment as if in the midst of a sudden thought. He aimed a stricken look in Ted's direction. "So, if it isn't, then we've just contaminated the evidence..."

Lee and Ted turned as one to stare at Aidan. "You're just chock-full of the great ideas aren't you, Aidan? First to go camping, then that we move the body while you 'comfort' your girlfriend," Lee sneered.

Lee watched as Aidan stormed out. He worried at his lower lip with his teeth until the man was gone, then he turned to Karen. "I always had a bad feeling about him."

~#~

He hated losing control, it was so... demeaning. He prided himself on his strong, cold exterior, but inside his stomach was churning with anguish.

He was the monster here, not some... thing.

He felt a red-hot pulse of rage as he realized it must have been the creature that had ruined everything.

The ever-present serpent twisted and turned within his flesh, making his skin feel stretched tight and paper-thin across his bones. He scratched and scratched without relief until he bled, but the ophidian only coiled deeper inside his body; the blood it craved was not his own.

Soon, he promised.

~#~

They all have secrets, Karen decided, and while she might not exactly know what they were, it was like she could sense them burning beneath their skin, itching to get out.

The brothers were by far the strangest and she wasn't quite sure if she trusted them. It was all the silent glances, aborted gestures, and things left unsaid between the innocuous conversations that seemed to speak volumes.

She reckoned they knew far more about what was going on than they were admitting. It suddenly dawned on her that so did the priest. He'd made a couple of strange comments; if Aidan hadn't stormed off and distracted them, they'd probably still be arguing over it now. Was that deliberate? Cheryl was a friend from college and on the surface appeared trustworthy, but Karen had always been wary around that dour boyfriend of hers.

She'd seen him watching her, judging her. She'd imagined he'd found her wanting.

But Cheryl, she was a bossy one. Karen didn't understand how Aidan put up with it.

Not like Lee, he knew he was onto a good thing. He understood that she didn't care what he did, so long as he always came back to her.

~#~

Sam sighed in relief that the others had distracted themselves from a discussion of the Winchesters' involvement, without any real effort from him or Dean.

"So what are we going to do about the creature?"

"Huh?" Dean seemed distracted. "Do?"

"Well, yeah. It killed that man."

Dean seemed to shake himself from his thoughts. He frowned. "I dunno, Sam. It seemed pretty friendly to me."

"Oh, then it's just a coincidence that it turns up just after we find a dead body with animal bites?"

Dean sighed. "You're probably right. I just get a weird feeling about this..."

"Oh, man. Why can't you just accept that you're wrong?"

Dean looked at him in shock and surprise at the rage in Sam's tone of voice. "What?"

"First Benny, and now this... thing? What happened to you? D'you go native or something?"

Dean saw red. "Yeah, well, maybe I did, but what do you care?" He sucked in a shaky breath and tried to lower his voice when he noticed Ted taking a keen interest in their conversation. "You left me to rot in Purgatory while you went off and played house with the first piece of skirt who showed you any interest."

"I don't even know who you are any more," Sam replied, his voice sounding harsh even to his own ears. He shook his head and walked out before he said something he'd really regret.

~#~

From his position up in the rafters, and with his head resting on his paws, he gazed down in adoration at the man. He'd been so lonely; could this really be his new master? He seemed so brave and strong, but also kind. It was comforting to think that he might at last have someone to rely on; for a long, long time there had been all kinds of signs and portents and then... nothing.

He struggled to hold back a whine of distress at seeing the man at such odds with his... brother? – the one who smelled like home and family, but so buried under the heavy stench of hellfire it almost wasn't there. It made his nose sting, and he sneezed, just thinking about it. That wasn't right was it, surely? But then Master had a faint scent of it too...

Now they were unhappy because of something he'd done, weren't they? His stomach churned at the harsh tone of the voices that carried through the cold night air and the unfairness of it all. He'd tried to be good! Why did they keep leaving things lying around if they didn't want him to eat them? And he'd only been protecting the church, as was his duty - he'd given the trespasser several warnings - it wasn't his fault what had happened next...

He continued to watch them from above, with only the faintest growl of frustration.

~#~

Cheryl watched Dean standing still, looking lost and maybe just a little vulnerable, as he stared off after his brother. She felt a little like that herself, but knew better than to go after Aidan. In the end, despite her better judgment, she couldn't help but try to offer Dean some comfort. "Sometimes you just gotta let them go off and have their space," she said with a sad little smile.

"Maybe that's my problem, I'm always pulling him back," Dean said, as he leaned back in the pew, rubbing with one hand at the bridge of his nose.

"Ah. Well, I've never had the best track record at holding on to the people I love."

Dean snorted. "I'd settle for not getting them killed."

Cheryl's attention spiked at the wistful tone of his voice, realizing the literal truth behind his words.

Before he knew what he was doing, Dean was telling Cheryl all about dragging Sam back into his life. How he'd done it once, maybe even leading... an enemy... to Stanford and ruining Sam's chances at law school. And now he was doing it again. "If I love him so much, then how come all I ever seem to do is mess up his life?"

He looked up in horror. What was with the chick-flick moment? "Sorry, you don't need to hear about my problems," he muttered, flushing bright red with embarrassment.

"Don't sweat it. Everyone needs to offload now-and-then, and sometimes it's easier to do it with someone we don't really know."

"Yeah, but talk about oversharing... I knew I shouldn't have watched The Notebook with Sam the other night."

~#~

Karen watched. It was her M.O. That's what they called it in all those police procedural series she liked so much. So, that's what she did.

For a while she'd listened in to Cheryl and Dean whine on about how their lives were oh, so terrible. What a joke, no one ever appreciates what they have. She'd have given them a piece of her mind, but she was sick of talking about her past. It never did her any good and she didn't need anyone else's false sympathy.

She'd always had someone telling her what to do, when to do it, and why she wasn't doing it properly. So yes, her life sucked. But she had it under control. If you kept your head down, and did what you were told, you were usually okay.

Life was okay. Well, it was better than it had been. She'd got out and there had been several times when she'd doubted that she'd survive her childhood. She still wasn't convinced that her old life wouldn't just pull her back, like it had done numerous times in the past.

It was interesting listening to Dean talk about his father; as much for the things he didn't say, than for the details he disclosed. She found she could relate to him. Her Daddy had also been a big man in their small town. A well-loved man. People had been so kind and supportive of him; commiserating that despite his strength he'd produced such a weak and damaged daughter. It had always been a source of twisted comfort that people cared so little about her that they'd never bothered to express their disappointment to her face.

Daddy still loved her though. Unlike Dean, she had no doubt about that. Everyone said it, so it must be true.

Lee had hated him though, almost as much as Daddy had hated Lee in return. It was one of the reasons she thought she should love Lee so much.

Lee took care of her. He'd taken her away from Daddy. He'd saved her after she'd tried to take things into her own hands. She owed him. Sometimes she hated him too.

He didn't know she knew about the other women. She might be quiet and too shy to speak her mind, but she wasn't stupid. She knew he was only using them. He always came back to her.

She liked the way Dean had looked at her earlier. Men usually didn't bother, but she sensed he was someone who was more attuned to what was really going on.

That, and she liked the way it made Lee mad.

~#~

Cheryl gave Dean a gentle smile. She suspected it wasn't very often that he opened up to people like this. She wondered if it was down to the surreal and claustrophobic atmosphere of the church that, seemed to be getting to all of them. Speaking of which... She got to her feet, dusting down her knees. "Well, I need some air," she grimaced, while pulling a pack of cigarettes from her bag.

"I know, these things will kill me," she muttered to herself as she pulled open the door, shivering at the blast of cold air.

She shrieked in surprise at the crouching figure that leaped forward, scraping past her as she somehow managed to duck away in time. The figure scrabbled on the floor, trying to find its footing as it stalked towards her. The strong, cold wind slammed the heavy door shut behind her and she backed up against it, looking on in horror at the huge, but shriveled, creature in front of her. It might be human-shaped, but there was no way this could ever have been mistaken for an actual person.

The creature leered and started to edge towards her in a cautious half-crouch, as if it was worried she had a weapon to hand. Cigarettes and lighter already lost, she slid her hands into her pockets, but all she could find was a crushed packet of gum, not even a set of keys like she'd been taught in self-defense class. The creature seemed to sense her dismay and started to move towards her a little faster.

Dean popped up from behind a nearby pew, brandishing the gun he'd taken a dive to retrieve. Without any further warning he opened fire at the creature. The thing jolted and shuddered at each hit, but did not seem to be bothered by its injuries. It didn't even lose its footing on the smooth stone flooring.

Cheryl didn't waste any time and ran the opposite way round the church, putting the pews between her and the creature.

The resounding sound of shots had brought the others running from the warmth of the kitchen and they froze, looking on in shock. The creature leaned forward and roared at the interruption, baring a mouth full of cruel, sharp teeth in a terrible grimace.

Cheryl moved back, her eyes widening in fear and confusion. She was torn between running the length of the church to Aidan or trying to escape through the main entrance and facing whatever else might await her outside. Not able to take her terrified gaze off of the creature, out of the corner of her eye she could just make out Dean as he edged towards it, reloading his gun. Without even seeming to need to look, the creature threw out one of its impossibly long arms and sent Dean sprawling onto his back, his gun flying from his grasp.

"Dean!" shouted Sam. He started forward towards the creature, brandishing a large hunting knife that seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere. Aidan moved to stop Sam from getting too near the beast, only to release his hold on Sam's arm when the creature turned an obvious, hungry look back on Cheryl.

A loud, terrifying howl ran through the church, making the windows vibrate.

Cheryl shrank back in further horror as the winged dog-creature from earlier swooped down towards her from its hiding place in the rafters. It landed just beyond her, positioning itself between where Dean still lay stunned on the ground and the other creature.

The dog-thing started a fierce growling that she could feel right down to her bones. The figure snarled back in response, seeming just as fierce in its own way, as it swiped with its long, wickedly sharp-looking claws.

The dog barked with a sound that reverberated with a chime like some terrible bell. Even in the midst of her fear Cheryl noticed how this drove back the figure... and some of the others in their group, although Sam was the only one she could see clearly, as both he and his brother clutched at their ears as if in pain.

The dog whined and turned towards Dean as if conscious of causing him distress, and the figure made no delay in swiping at its flank with its claws. The dog gave a series of high-pitched yelps, before leaping at the figure with its jaws wide open, its muzzle pulled back to reveal sharp, white teeth that gleamed in the dim light.

Cheryl turned her face away and covered her ears at the awful screams and sounds of rending flesh.

After a few, brief moments, which felt like forever, there was nothing but blessed silence.

~#~

Dean somehow managed to stand, still clutching his head from the pain inflicted from the dog-like creature's eerie bark.

He watched as it dragged the body of the wendigo towards him and dropped it in a loose-limbed pile at his feet. It sat back on its hind legs, its tail wagging with wild delight.

"Good boy!" Dean said in bemused surprise.

The creature's tail wagged faster and it gazed up at him with an adoring, expectant expression.

A little nervous, Dean leaned further towards the creature. "What's your name, boy?"

"Tiangou"

Dean rocked back on his heels in astonishment. He hadn't been expecting the dog to talk to him. "Jingo?"

"Tiangou"

"Dengue?" That'd be appropriate, 'cause I definitely feel feverish.

"Tiangou"

"Django?"

"Yeah, that'll do," the creature snorted.

Dean turned to grin at his brother, only for it to fade into confusion under the force of the strange look that Sam was giving him.

"What are you doing?" asked Sam, as if talking to a child.

"He says his name's Django."

"And you get that from all the growling?"

It was Dean's turned to look confused. "No, he just told me."

Sam just raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Of course he did, Dean." He shook his head at the stupidity of older brothers. "So any idea what it is?"

Dean started to shrug, but the dog nudged him to get his attention. "Faithful guardian..."

Both brothers turned to Ted who was now within earshot and had visibly reacted to the animal's utterance.

"You can understand him?" asked Sam in surprise, his gaze switching between his brother and the priest. The unspoken "too" seemed to hang in the air between them.

Ted nodded, as if distracted. "I feel like I must surely wake up soon," he muttered under his breath. He looked up at Sam as the words penetrated his brain. "Wait... you can't?"

"No," answered Sam, "it just sounds like a dog growling to me."

The others nodded in dumb agreement. "Me too," added Cheryl, moving closer now it seemed like the animal was not a threat.

Sam looked at Django with sudden realization. "He's a church grim!" He was somewhat taken aback to see the animal roll its eyes at him with a "duh" expression.

Dean looked at the dog-like creature that was now batting its head at his hand in an attempt at getting the petting to continue. "You sure? He looks quite chipper to me."

Cheryl took a few more cautious steps towards the beast. "What, you mean like a protector?" She held out a tentative hand and tried not to flinch as Django sniffed at it. She giggled as he licked her palm and accepted a scratch behind the ears.

"Yeah," said Sam in amazement, "it's said that the spirit of the first thing buried in a churchyard has to protect the grounds from evil forever, so rather than a human, instead they'd bury a dog."

"Alive," growled Django.

"That sucks, dude," Dean commiserated , before relaying to the others what the creature had said.

Sam approached, only for Django to stiffen and start a low growl that, while almost inaudible, was still threatening. Thinking back to what the creature had done to the wendigo, Sam thought it best to withdraw, but not before giving the creature his best stink-eye look.

Dean chuckled. "I don't think he likes you, Sammy."

"Yeah, he tell you that, did he? You're a regular Dr. Dolittle, Dean," Sam grumbled, not sure why he felt so hurt. Stupid dog, he thought as he stalked off back to the kitchen, but still determined to keep his eye on the animal; he wasn't quite as willing to trust it as Dean seemed to be.

"Hey, what's your problem with Sam?" Dean asked Django, running his hand down the animal's back.

"Smells bad."

"That's younger brothers for you."

"Hellfire."

"Ah." Dean felt physically sick.

Django gave an anxious whimper and tried to comfort Dean by licking at the man's mouth, only for Dean to gently push him away with a faint declaration of disgust.

"Not just him," added the church grim with a mournful whine.

~#~

"So, hunters then," said Ted, still keeping what he judged a safe distance away. He couldn't help but feel a slight sense of satisfaction at being right, despite the events that had unfolded.

"Nothing gets past you, does it?" grinned Dean, with a dead wendigo at his feet while he gave tummy rubs to some sort of spirit-dog protector.

"So, I'm guessing that thing's the grizzly," added Aidan, pointing at the wendigo, having just come up for air after being reunited with Cheryl.

"Yeah," sighed Dean, "It's called a wendigo."

"Whoa! What, like in the Hulk comics?" asked Donnie.

"This ain't no superhero, kid."

"No, a man transformed into a terrible, always-hungry creature as a curse for eating human flesh?" said Donnie. He'd always said those early Marvel comics were a good investment that would pay off one day.

"Er, yeah. I must've missed that edition," Dean snorted in amusement.

"So what, you hunt these things for fun?" Cheryl interrupted in an incredulous voice.

"Well, I wouldn't say fun exactly," Dean answered, pulling a face. "It's more like hunting evil sons-of-bitches is a family calling." He shrugged an apologetic look in the priest's direction.

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," said Donnie in a quiet voice. He turned to Sam, who had rejoined them, and cracked a sudden beaming smile that broke the serious mood. "You're like... heroes."

Dean looked a little flustered and the tips of his ears went red, but Sam just seemed troubled as he stared down at the remains of the wendigo.

"I thought so. This isn't the one that attacked me."

"Are you sure? How can you even tell?"

"I managed to chop off part of its hand while it was clawing at me. It's the only reason I managed to get away from the thing."

As a group they looked down at the wendigo and its ten, long, sharp claws.

"There's another one out there."

~#~

Dean had always felt more than a little wary around dogs at the best of times; he'd never had the greatest experiences with them in the past, the hellhound incident notwithstanding. He knew it was mean and childish, but he couldn't help but be amused that Django followed him around like a puppy. Okay, a giant, pitch-black puppy with bat wings and blood-red eyes.

It just seemed so ironic that Sam, the self-professed dog-person, brought out such an odd, sour expression on the face of the church grim when they drew near to one another. Hell, with that hair and the gangling limbs he even looks a little like one of those Afghans. When pressed a second time, the grim had revealed that the lingering scent of hellfire burned his nose.

Dean looked down at the huge, dog-like creature lying at his feet, with a guilty expression. It seemed like the Winchester penchant for being sent to Hell left a scent marker too, just that Dean's hadn't been so recent, nor for so long as Sam's.

As if sensing the scrutiny, Django looked back up at him with an adoring expression, before returning to his previous task of licking his wounds clean.

Sam screwed up his face in distaste at the sight and the noise. "It figures that your mystical dog would be as big a perv as you are. Can't you get it to stop... licking itself."

"Saliva aids healing," Django rumbled, not stopping in his ministrations.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he guessed that his brother did have a point; it was pretty gross. "Somehow, I don't think you were injured down there, can't you take it outside for the sake of our sanity?"

Django gave a huff of long-sufferance and stalked off in disgust. Dean turned to Sam. "Well, look at that. Now he's acting like you."

TBC

[Next chapter]

(;,;)

Comments

[redheadforever.livejournal.com]

Love it! Looking forward to Parts 3 & 4!

[theymp.livejournal.com]

Thanks - I'm glad you're enjoying it.

More soon!

Edition 2,752

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