As It Was - Dean Winchester

Part 60

I jumped from foot to foot, visualizing an opponent to fight and letting my hands hit the air. I felt free. Complete and utterly free. My cast was off, my broken bones healed, and I'd slept through the night all week. Or, well, the few hours of sleep I needed to function. No nightmares, no waking up in the middle of a panic attack.

I could feel Sammy's amused gaze drift up over his computer screen. I ignored him, punching out a combination and ducking an invisible blow.

The door to the motel room opened, and Dean walked in carrying a grocery bag. I punched out another combination and then pretended to get hit by my invisible opponent, throwing myself back on one of the beds. "And she's down for the count!"

Dean chuckled, and I cracked an eye open, catching his glittering green gaze. "Someone's in a good mood. I take it that it went well at the hospital?"

"Hell yeah." I held up my hand to show him I was no longer confined by the cast.

Sam snorted, "Yeah, Liam said the doc forbade boxing for at least another month."

I grimaced. "That was more of a recommendation," I protested, knowing Sam didn't buy it. Liam had been very specific, relaying every word the doctor said.

The older Winchester grinned at me, kissing my cheek. "Where is Liam? He's not staying?"

"Nah, he had some business to take care of," I said, only half lying. Technically he had business; that business just happened to be a trip to Ohio, where he had an ancient book on demon- deals to buy. I hadn't seen him since he left after we dealt with Gordon months ago. He had, however, been kind enough to conspire with the Winchesters to kidnap me and drag me for a check-up at the hospital this morning. "Tell me about the case."

"Get this; a woman called in about her missing husband. He was decorating the Christmas tree, and then she heard him scream," Sam explained, turning his chair to face me. "The doors were locked, and there was no sign of forced entry. While Dean was talking to the wife, I checked the house. Guess what I found?"

"What?"

"A tooth in the chimney."

I grimaced. "You know most chimneys are actually too small to fit a human body." I examined the tooth that the younger hunter placed in my hand. "Unless he was compressed or chopped up," I added absentmindedly. "This tooth has no roots; it was broken off."

Dean turned to his brother, who had been running the research. "So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?"

"Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke," he deadpanned.

"Who?"

I stared at Dean for a beat. And then Sam and I answered in unison, "Mary Poppins'?"

"Who's that?"

"Oh, come on—" Sam began to protest, but I silently shook my head, begging him not to go of course from the conversation. "Never mind."

"Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month," Dean continued.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

I crossed my legs on the bed, getting comfortable. "Another chimney sweep?"

"Don't know," Dean answered. "Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof." The brothers shared a shrug, not looking like they saw the same patterns I did. "So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?"

"Can I make a suggestion?" I smirked, knowing it was going to sound... crazy.

"Go for it."

I pulled a hand over my hair, thinking through what we knew so far. "Okay, so before you tell me it's crazy, I want to explain. It's just a few days until Christmas, right? We got one guy who disappeared through a chimney. Then we have another guy disappear at the same time as there are strange sounds on the roof. Santa breaks in through chimneys, parks his sleigh on the roof, hands out his presents, and then goes to the next house."