As It Was - Dean Winchester

Part 6

Chicago was not all I thought it'd be. The weather was crap, and the bars were more crowded than I could handle. We'd come here grasping at straws, an electrical storm had popped up on my radar, and since we were stuck in the research, John wanted us to go check it out, then we found the case.

"We're getting close. I can feel it." 

"The only thing we're getting close to is a fucking mental breakdown. I need a break from all of this," I huffed and shrugged off the blazer that went with my pantsuit. "I told the landlady we were done with the place. There's nothing else I can find in there. Here." I handed him all the pictures I'd taken from the apartment. 

"Lots of blood," John commented.

"Yeah, the poor girl was torn apart. Her body parts were all over when the police showed up. Heart's missing." I looked over to see how John reacted, but he didn't look surprised. 

"And you're sure she's from Lawrence?" 

"Yeah, I checked out her profile. The cops didn't want to hand it over; they claimed the FBI had no jurisdiction, but I told them to shove somewhere the sun don't shine, and I got it myself." That made John look up from the pictures. He raised a brow.

"I thought you were gonna lay low. The rules and all that."

"They pissed me off." I gave a fake smile and turned to unbutton my white shirt. "Anyway, something feels off about all of this. Why kill these people?"

"I don't know, but this and the electrical storm... It's no coincidence." 

I turned back once I had a tank top on. John was holding the same picture he'd had when I started to change. He stared down at it, his eyes going between the blood splatter. 

"EMF?" He hummed, deep in thought. 

"Yeah," I told him. He reached over and picked up a marker. I watched as he connected the splattering with lines, and when I saw the finished results, I closed my eyes, swearing under my breath. "That's the symbol for a daeva."

John looked up at me, nodding. "Demonic monsters." 

"Mm," I hummed and dragged a hand over my french-braid. "That's Zoroastrian... It's one of the oldest continuously practiced faiths today. They preach about free will and how we all are judged after death and all that same old shit. Did you know Freddie Mercuri was a zo..." I stopped when I noticed the way John looked at me. 

"I know." 

"Okay, jeez," I mumbled as John turned his attention back to the photos. He rummaged around before he found the pictures from the other crime scene, where a guy named Ben Swardstrom was killed the same way. He drew the same symbol in the blood shown in those pictures as well. 

"At least we know it's demonic." John dragged a hand over his face. 

"Like I said, mental breakdown. I need a break. Unlike you, I've been running around all day." I only received a huff as a response, so I opened a beer bottle and slumped down on the couch. I felt the oncoming headache and stared up at the ceiling for what was supposed to be just a moment. 

---

I woke up in my bed, confused. Not sure how I ended up in my bed. John was still snoring loudly from across the room, so I sat up and rubbed my eyes, deciding to take a shower. 

I met my eyes in the mirror. The poor bathroom light made them look more brown than green, and removed yesterday's braid, letting my hair out before stepping into the shower. 

Once I had dried my hair, I parted it into two sections and did new braids, my mother's voice ringing through my head, telling me not to let it get in the way when I was fighting. I walked out, noticing John by the table with a cup of coffee. I did a couple of fake punches to his face when I passed, making him smile.