Cowboys and Angels (A Dean Winchester/ Supernatural FanFiction)

Chapter 6: Why Am I The One

Chapter 6: Why Am I The One

I stared down at the charred outline of the devil's trap, bending down and wiping away some of the ash, revealing more of the spray painted inscription.

"Hmm... How coincidental," I murmured scratching a fingernail across what was left of the paint, pulling it off.

"So, do you think we're looking at demon's here," the older brother asked, running his hand along the window sill and along the floor boards.

"To be honest, no. It just doesn't seem probable. Demons are capable of all of this, but this isn't their kinda thing. And I didn't see any traces of sulfur on the bodies..."

"And, so far, I haven't found any in here," Dean replied. "But we still have to check upstairs." I nodded, heading through the door in the kitchen and into the back hallway, the floorboards creaking ominously with every step I took. Running my hand gently along the doorframes of the doors that lined the hallway and along the floorboards, I examined the residue on my hand, finding no traces of sulfur in the ash.

Dean slipped past me, slapping me lightly on the butt as he passed. I stood up rather quickly, surprised, an inhuman squeak escaping my lips. Dean burst out laughing and I felt my face grow hot. I glared at him and he winked, making his way up the stairs. I flinched as the boards dipped under his weight, squeaking rather loudly. I motioned for him to come back down.

"I'm lighter. Let me go first and test all of the boards." But the older brother shook his head.

"What if you fall through?"

"Then you'll know not to step on that step," I retorted. He rolled his eyes, stepping to the side and allowing me to pass him. I eased my way up the stairs, testing all of the steps. Although burnt, most of them were still sturdy, so I motioned for him to follow me. He did so quickly, touching down beside me. We both peered down the dark hall. Most of the hall up here was relatively untouched, meaning the flames hadn't managed to get this far.

I inched down the hall, checking the door frames and the floorboards, but there were still no traces of sulfur anywhere. I sighed.

"At this point, I don't think we're looking at demons." Dean nodded.

"Any other ideas?" I shrugged, opening the door at the end of hallway, peering in. It looked to be the master bedroom. I slid inside, flipping the light switch. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The bed was neatly made. The dresser had jewelry splayed across it, necklaces neatly placed with their corresponding bracelets and rings. The chest on the opposite wall just had a flower pot sitting on top of it, a withering rose inside it.

Dean and I checked the drawers of the aforementioned furniture. I made my way over to the night stand by the bed, shifting through the various checks and magazines sitting there, not finding anything of interest and then sifting through the items in the drawer-only finding a rather old Bible and a couple of old pictures. Placing those gently back in their places, I stood up, closing the drawer.

Dean checked the closet while I checked the window sill in the bathroom, finding it to be sulfur free. I walked back out, the clicking sound my heels were making on the tile floor of the bathroom disappearing as I stepped from the tile onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. Dean shook his head.

"Let's try the other rooms, although I doubt we'll find much," I said, sensing his frustration. He sighed, nodding.

"You never know. Any ideas," he asked, turning towards the door.

"A couple..." but I trailed off, stopping at the end of the bed, spotting a rather clever warning placed in such a way as to guard something. I motioned for Dean to take a look. I stepped over to my side, his eyes widening.

"They were clever... very, very clever. Almost impossibly clever," Dean said pulling out his phone, taking a picture.

"No-not clever-- proactive. They knew that this thing was here in the town, and they were probably hunting it, but looks like the monster decided on revenge rather than turning tail and fleeing."

There, sitting stitched with clear thread onto the pillows, some rather curious symbols sat, some of which I recognized, and others of which I didn't. They formed a circle, almost like a ring of protection, around what looked to be ruffled sheets, almost as if the circle used to have an inhabitant.

"Wait a second...," I muttered, slipping past Dean and out the door, opening all of the doors along the hallway until I got to the one room I had hoped to find. A child's room.

"I knew it," I whispered, glancing at Dean who had come up behind me, peering over my shoulder.

"Well, I know who we'll be interviewing next," he breathed, stepping past me and into the room. I saw his eyes widen, surprise flashing in his eyes. I leaned in further, gasping when I saw the long, jagged claw marks that scored the walls.

"An animal my ass," I hissed, my eyes narrowing.

"Come on," Dean said walking back out into the hallway, grabbing my hand and dragging me down the stairs. I leaned back onto my heels, attempting to stop him.

"Whoa there cowboy," I said grabbing his shoulder, slipping my hand out of his grasp. "We don't even know where the kid is-and I'm sure he's been through enough already, especially after this ordeal. Poor thing's mind is probably reeling."

"We don't exactly have a lot of time. Someone else is going to end up dead if we don't hurry. He's lucky he made it out alive-if he is alive. God only knows that- that- that that thing carried his body off already." The intensity in his eyes, the almost animalistic rage that seemed to burn there, surprised me. But what caught me off guard was the tinge of sadness that seemed to hang at the edge of all of the rage. In his eyes, it seemed all too familiar; like the feeling had been there before and now it was resurfacing, waking from its slumber. The sense of duty he seemed to have to a child he has never met. My eyes narrowed.

"What happened?" He raised a confused eyebrow, but a sense of realization seemed to sweep over him when he realized what I was truly asking. He sighed, turning away from me.

"Let's just find out where the boy is-- I'll explain later." I sighed, nodding.

We headed out of the house and down the stairs at the side of the patio. I cast one sad glance back at the mutilated bodies that were now being taken down from their 'perches'. Officer Stanfield made his way towards us. I told Dean to go on ahead. He gave a small, solemn nod, making his way silently towards my Camaro. I turned towards Stanfield.

"Where's the boy," I asked bluntly, my heart pounding out of fear of what might have happened to him. Stanfield smiled slightly, which seemed relieved some of the weight that had settled on my heart.

"I'll be honest and say you two are much smarter than I took you for."

"You didn't think we'd notice," I huffed. He nodded.

"But you did-and there's no need to worry. He's at the hospital. He was in pretty bad condition when we saved him from being burnt alive."

"Physically-- not surprising. What about mentally?"


"He was in shock. If you're going to interview him I have one piece of advice-don't." I sighed.

"We don't want to, but we don't have much of a choice. Something else is going on here. This isn't a regular suicide. As a matter of fact, it's not suicide at all-- it's murder and we have to find out what's going on." The younger officer nodded.

"I figured something was up. Just try and be gentle with the poor kid." I nodded.

"Of course," I said turning and starting towards my car, but I stopped, turning back towards the other officer, holding out my card. "Call me if anything else comes up. Oh, and don't hesitate to argue with Officer Williams. He's an ignorant, lazy bastard who has no idea how to do his job." Stanfield took the card, nodding. I flicked my hand in goodbye, finally heading towards my car, opening the passenger door and climbing in. Dean was sitting silently in the driver's seat, staring out the window.

I gently tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped about three feet, glaring at me afterwards. I smiled, ruffling his hair playfully.

"The boy's fine. He's at the local hospital. He was pretty beat up and was in shock when they found him, but he pulled through." Relief spread across the older brother's face.

"Thank God. Shall we," he asked starting the car. I nodded, leaning back in my seat. It was a short ride to the hospital. I turned on the radio on the way there. (Don't Fear) the Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult was playing. I sang along quietly. Eventually Dean joined me. I smiled slightly, glancing over at him, only to find him looking at me already. I bit my bottom lip seductively, teasing him, staring into his emerald green eyes. A small, sexy smile graced his lips.

"You're still a tease," he whispered turning his attention back to the road.

"What? And you think you aren't," I retorted, my eyes narrowing.

"Hmm... To you, no. To other women, yes. You don't seem like the type to fall for my simple tactics."

"Simple? Ha, no-," but he cut me off.

"So, that's why I'm actually trying this time."

"You're implying that you didn't really try before," I shot back.

"I did, twice, but neither ended well. But, hey-- third time's a charm," he replied smirking. I raised a somewhat offended eyebrow.

"You've known me, what? Four days?"

"Does it matter? We've gotta start somewhere."

"I suppose...," I sighed, running my hand along the console, resting it next to his hand.

Dean moved his hand over, attempting to take mine, but I slid mine away slyly, smirking. He glared at me and I smiled, looking at him innocently. He rolled his eyes in response, shaking his head. After a couple minutes we finally reached the hospital. I stepped out of the car, shutting my door and walking up to the entrance, glancing back at Dean. He was watching me walk, watching every move I made. I pushed the door open, grimacing as the smell of antiseptics hit me.

It was a small hospital, only a few stories tall. I guess it worked seeing as it was a small town. I walked up to the receptionist at the front desk, flashing my badge in her direction. Dean did the same as he walked up. Annoyance flashed in her eyes when she saw them, but she forced a smile.

"How may I help you Agent's Brook and Sanders," she asked politely.

"We're here to see the boy who was the son of the couple that... committed suicide earlier this morning." She raised a surprised eyebrow.

"He's not taking visitors at the moment," she replied curtly.

"I figured you would say that. Look," I started, leaning against the counter, glaring at her. "We don't have much time. I'm technically not allowed to tell you this, but his parents didn't commit suicide. They were murdered. We have to find out as soon as possible what's going on here and we need to talk to him before someone else dies." The woman glanced back towards the elevator then down towards her clipboard before looking back up at us. Finally she sighed, stepping out from behind the counter.

"I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt," she sighed, motioning for us to follow her. We did so eagerly, stepping into the elevator behind her. I leaned against the wall, feeling my phone vibrate in my bra. I awkwardly pulled it, earning an amused look from Dean. I had completely forgotten I had put it in there. I had a text message from Sam. It read:

Meet us back at the room in an hour. You won't believe what we've found.

I showed it to Dean and he raised a questioning eyebrow, eyeing me. I shrugged.

"We've got quite a bit ourselves," he said matter-of-factly and I nodded. That was when the elevator dinged and the doors opened up to the second floor. Dean and I stepped out.

"Dylan is in room E205-it's at the end of the hall. Please try not to traumatize the poor child any more than he's already been traumatized." I nodded, flicking my hand in compliance. Dean and I made our way down the wide, white halls. I stared at my reflection in the clean, shiny tiles. I hadn't noticed how dark the bags under my eyes had become and how limp my hair seemed to be. Looks like the visions were taking a toll on me.

I sighed, glancing over at Dean. He was staring silently ahead, his usually bright emerald eyes dull. I reached over, gently placing my hand on his shoulder. He looked over at me, forcing a smile.

"You wanna get a drink after we talk to Sam and Cas? I owe you an explanation," he asked, seeing the concern in my eyes.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I was just curious," I said gently. He shook his head.

"To be honest I just need someone to talk to," he said averting his gaze. I nodded.

"Do you want the thing that was supposed to come after my explanation, but never did," I asked giggling. A small smile graced his lips.

"I'll let you decide on that one," he laughed, stopping in front of the door at the very end of the hall. A shiny plaque was screwed onto the wall beside the door. The gold letters read 'E205.' I rested my hand on the door handle, turning it and opening the door quietly, walking in. Dean followed me inside.



A/N: Here's the next chapter! I would've updated sooner, but I got caught up in some stuff and had to deal with that first.

Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to a close friend of mine-- candygirlx-- who's Supernatural fanfic is absolutely fantastic and I would greatly appreciate if you guys took the time to check it out. The link to it is in the comments. I made the cover, meaning if anyone wants me to make them a cover I'm all for it. Just ask. :)

Now then, I'm going to start the next chapter. It's gonna be... interesting. So, don't forget to vote, comment, or add my story! I'd also like to hear what you guys think! I love critisism.

~SilverRaine/Hannah