No One Mourns the Wicked

From left to right: Teen!Dean (young Jensen), Bridget (OFC, Character Model: Actress Arielle Kebbel with blonde hair), Paul and Dean about to kiss, Young Sam (young Jared), and Billy Loomis

No One Mourns the Wicked
A Miracles/Supernatural Cross-over
by Laurel (Sailorhathor)

See Chapter 1 for all Warnings and Author's Notes.

Rating: Adult17+
Chapters: 8 of 15 (2,934 words this part)

Chapter 8: The Serpent and the Rainbow

        "Did that make you feel weird, knowing that you fought for Billy?" Paul asked.

        With a small laugh, Dean nodded. "Very weird. But Stu backed me into a corner. I came out swinging." He thought about what he'd just said for a moment. "That's not entirely true, that it was all a dick-waving contest. I just didn't want him to have Billy."

        "Was Billy aware of all this?"

        "He never said anything about it to me, but I wouldn't be surprised if he knew. Stu was such a loudmouth. I'm sure he whined over my presence in Billy's life anytime he could."

        Paul didn't think that this rivalry with Stu could possibly turn out good, but really, didn't he already know the ending to this story? "What happened next?"

        "Have you ever heard of a movie director named Roman Bridger?" Dean asked.

        "Uhhh... name's a little familiar... didn't he rape a 13-year-old or something?"

        "No, that's Roman Polanski. Roman Bridger murdered a bunch of people, in 2000."

        Taken aback, Paul's eyes widened, and he scoffed. "That name doesn't have a good track record for directors."

        "Guess not."

        "What do you mean he murdered a bunch of people?"

        "I'll get to that. What's important now is that he came to Woodsboro High under the pretense that he was looking for a high school kid to star in a horror movie. The school let them film a scene in the courtyard, and that same day, he was talking to some of the kids during lunch and stuff, looking for new talent," Dean explained. "In reality, Billy was the only kid he wanted to talk to."


        Dean paused, thinking, remembering. "This was probably the most pivotal moment in Billy's downward spiral. I'm going to have to retell this part of the story when Sam and the others get back, only with, uh, some of the details left out, if you get me."

        "I do." Paul leaned toward him. "Is this a common occurrence in California, movie studios coming to high schools to shoot scenes?"

        Dean laughed. "It is around Los Angeles."


        Billy leaned on Dean's shoulder, popping a grape into his own mouth. "You oughta be in pictures," he said quietly, and chuckled.

        Dean looked over at the film crew van that was parked at the curb nearby. He and Billy had a rare moment alone, sitting on the edge of the fountain in front of the school during lunch. Some men were putting a movie camera on a tripod while the film director, Roman Bridger, supervised the project. "Maybe it should be you. That director keeps looking at you."

        Billy glanced at Roman, then back at Dean. "How can you tell? We're both over here."

        "I just know." Dean eyed the man carefully. He was looking at Billy like he knew him, not like a director sizing up a possible actor for his role. "I don't like the way he's looking at you."

        Billy chuckled again. "You're so jealous."

        Annoyed, Dean replied in an irritated tone, "No, I don't mean that. I mean he's looking at you like he recognizes you."

        "The guy went through the most recent yearbook, Dean. He's trying to find his next star." Billy, with a roll of his eyes, swung his leg over the edge of the fountain so he was sitting fully forward and took two large bites out of his sandwich.

        Dean still glared daggers at Roman Bridger. "I don't like it." Something inside told him the look Bridger was giving Billy had nothing to do with his movie. When the man suddenly motioned for Billy to come over, Dean's stomach turned in his gut.

        "Hey, he wants to talk to me. I'm gonna be in the movies!" Billy laughed, and trotted away.

        Dean kept himself from reaching out and grabbing Billy, stopping him from going over there. Bridger wanted something from him, he wanted to molest him, he was a chicken hawk, something. Something felt wrong about this. The man never smiled at Billy. If he wanted Billy to be in his movie, why wouldn't he smile at him, be friendly? Bridger's mouth was as tight as Dean's stomach felt.

        He watched Bridger and Billy talk, Billy all smiles and enthusiasm, Bridger guarded and succinct. Dean sighed. This would be a dream come true for Billy; of course he was excited. What would Billy like more than being in a horror movie? Bridger handed the teen a business card, patted him on the shoulder, and sent him on his way. Billy jogged back over to Dean.

        "He wants me to call him!" he said, sounding even more chipper than he already seemed. "I'm supposed to go down to his studio tonight and read for a part! Says I look like a natural. Can you believe that?" Billy looked at the business card, turned it over in his hands. "What if I actually get it?"

        Dean tried not to openly show his uneasiness. "Come by my house after the audition, okay? I want to hear all about it."

        "Audition. That's what it is, isn't it?" Billy grinned down at the card one more time before putting it in his pocket. "I could be in a movie. This is so cool."

        "What is?" Randy put his lunch down on the edge of the fountain and took a seat.

        "Roman Bridger wants Billy to audition for his movie," explained Dean.

        Billy grunted, stomping his foot. "You gonna let me tell anybody?"

        "Huh? You?"

        Reaching over and swatting at Randy's head, Billy huffed, "Yes, me."

        "You're too damn pretty to be in a horror movie. Why doesn't he ask me? I saw his last film five times." Randy shook his head, unpacking his food. "Watch out for that casting couch, Billy. The guy just wants some free tail."

        Taking the chance that Randy left open for him, Dean added, "Yeah, take a weapon with you. A knife or something. You can hide it under your pant leg, like this." He demonstrated how Billy could stick a knife just inside his shoe and conceal it under the leg of his jeans.

        Billy looked at them both and then rolled his eyes. "You two are a couple of wusses. He doesn't want to fuck me; it's a real audition."

        "Uh huh." Randy dug into his sub sandwich, ignoring Billy, letting the sarcasm in his tone speak for itself. "Oh, Mom, thank you! Sourdough bread." He spoke to Dean. "She knows I love sourdough bread."

        Billy picked a grape out of its plastic bag and pegged it at Randy's head. "Screw you, man. You just wish it was you." Shaking his head, he added, "Too pretty to be in a horror movie. Huh. Johnny Depp's first movie was A Nightmare on Elm Street. You gonna tell me he's not a pretty boy?"

        "So you're the next Johnny Depp?" Randy laughed.


        "It's a real audition." Dean didn't really believe that, but Billy wasn't going to listen to him unless he acted like he did. "But take a knife anyway, okay?" He looked up at Billy pleadingly. "Just in case."

        Shrugging, Billy sat back down. "Okay."

        The others were too involved in their lunches to notice, but Dean didn't take his eyes off Roman Bridger.

        Bridger continued to look at Billy with that same tight expression until he and his crew got in the van and drove away.


        "I wanted to be wrong, Paul," Dean was saying, shaking his head. "I wanted so bad to be wrong."

        "What happened? Did Roman Bridger do something to him?" Paul asked.

        "Not exactly..."


        There had been many nights when Dean welcomed having his dad home, even kind of liked it as he and Sam sat at the table and John brought out some weird half-edible concoction for their dinner.

        As he went to his window and saw Billy standing there, panting with anger, a Bowie knife clutched tightly in his fist, he was glad this was not one of those nights.

        "I knew it." Dean helped Billy in the window. "Bridger did something to you, didn't he?"

        "Is anyone else here?" Billy asked, more hissing out the words than speaking them.

        "No, Dad took Sammy to a friend's house. No one's supposed to be home for a couple more hours. Are you okay?"

        Billy began to pace back and forth across Dean's room. "That bastard. How could he do this to her?" Much to Dean's shock, Billy swung the knife, slicing through the empty air. Dean jumped back out of reflex. "She's been nothing but faithful to him!" He cut the air again, three times in a row, swinging the knife quick enough to make noise. Swoosh, swoop, swoosh.

        "Billy, what are you talking about?"

        Billy looked at him, and Dean realized then that he was crying. Tears were just beginning to roll down his red, angry, hurt face. "You were right. Bridger didn't want to audition me for his film."

        "I'll kill 'im! What'd he do?"

        "He showed me a movie he'd made."

        Taken aback, Dean paused before speaking again. "Was it a porno?"

        "No!" Billy was so upset, his patience had worn thin, his tone short. "It was my dad meeting with some whore for sex."

        If Dean had been surprised before... "He what?"

        "Bridger's been following this woman around, filming her. She pissed him off somehow. The woman's a fucking whore, man. She's screwing half the town. Doesn't even get paid for it, just goes around breaking up homes for who knows what reason." As he spoke, Billy gestured with the knife, waving it around and pointing it to accentuate his words. "Bridger's got her on tape meeting with my father at a hotel. Standing outside the room making out and shit."

        "Bridger's got nothing from inside these hotel rooms, then?"

        "No, but what does that matter? You don't think they were meeting for a conference or something, do you?!"

        "Billy, calm down. You're right, they're having an affair." Dean scratched his head, feeling sheepish. "I was just curious how far Bridger was willing to go." He moved a little closer to Billy, reaching out to touch him. "I can't imagine how you must feel, Billy. If my dad had cheated on my mom..."

        The other boy pushed away from him, not wanting to be touched just yet. "I don't know what to do with myself. I'm just so angry." Pacing again, Billy passed the knife from hand to hand. "When my mom finds out, she's going to be really hurt. She's been a good wife... certainly doesn't deserve this. She might even leave." Billy looked at Dean helplessly. "Her family's in Ohio. What if she moves back home? I may never see you again."

        At the time, Dean thought it made just as much sense as Billy did that if Mrs. Loomis left town, she'd take Billy with her. He didn't like the thought of that. "She won't do that. Your mom can just make her own home here. Or maybe she'll stay with your dad. You know, forgive him."

        "How can she forgive him? He's fucking some other woman!" He was panting now, hissing breaths through his teeth. "How could he DO that?!" Too upset to control his own behavior, Billy swung the knife in a quick, sharp arc; the motion of the weapon would have sliced right across Dean's stomach if he hadn't jerked his midriff back in a quick-witted instinctual move. John's training often paid off.

        But, as Dean looked down, the swoosh of the knife barely dead in his ears, he noticed the rip across the midriff of his shirt. A neat little line through which he could put his hand. "Billy, look what you did," he said in shock. Now he did stick his hand through the hole. "You could have killed me."

        "I wish I could kill them," Billy responded. The fact that he had almost accidentally cut Dean seemed to get lost in his clouded comprehension of the world at that moment. "My dad and that Prescott slut."

        Dread seeped into Dean's bones. "Prescott? Maureen Prescott?"

        "Yeah..." Eyeing him suspiciously, Billy shifted his hold on the knife. "How did you know that?"

        "Uh... my dad is friends with her husband."

        "That poor dope. You think he even knows? They've got a daughter and everything. Some girl named Sidney. Goes to another school." Billy moved a little closer. "Can you believe good ol' Maureen would do that to her family? Fuck every guy in town?" Closer. "Is she fucking your dad, Dean?"

        Shocked, Dean backed away a step. "No. No! How can you even ask me that?"

        "Does he know she's cheating on her husband?"

        "No. My dad hasn't even met her."

        "Then how did you know her name?" Closer.

        Dean carefully looked Billy over. "You need to calm down. The guy's been in my house a few times; he mentioned his wife."

        Billy did not calm down. "Any guy who would fuck his friend's wife isn't a good guy."

        Now Dean was getting mad. "My dad wouldn't do that. He doesn't even like brunettes anyway; he prefers blondes."

        "Well, gentlemen prefer blondes, right?"

        Backed into the wall, Dean put up his hands defensively. "You're barking up the wrong tree."

        Billy suddenly exploded. He shoved Dean into the wall. "You knew, right?! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"

        "I didn't know a thing, Billy! My dad's not fucking Maureen Prescott and I didn't know your dad was cheating, now CALM DOWN!"

        "No, your dad just happens to know Neil Prescott."

        "Exactly! That's exactly how it is."

        Billy glared at him for a moment before slamming Dean back against the wall and kissing him hard, too hard. His leg worked between Dean's knees, pushing them apart, and Billy was rubbing against him hard enough to hurt. "You're a liar."

        "Owww, Billy, that hurts." Dean realized the knife was against his throat.

        "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna get that Prescott bitch. I'm gonna rip your father's whore apart, gut her and strew her insides all over the town." He was kissing Dean's throat, nipping and biting as well.

        "She's not my father's whore!" Dean grabbed Billy's wrist and yanked it down, twisted him around, and pried the weapon out of his hand. Billy laughed, although it did surprise him. Dean tossed the knife across the room. "Billy, I know you're upset, but you're wrong about my dad, and me. Come on... man, you gotta chill out."

        Grinning dangerously, Billy came at Dean again. "The thought of gutting that bitch turns me on, Dean. You want to see how much?"

        Dean tried to grab Billy's hands when he reached for him. They briefly grappled against the wall before Dean pushed the other boy away. Billy shoved Dean hard onto the bed, which Dean knew he did on purpose, but he wasn't about to give in when Billy was so angry. They wrestled for dominance, Billy on top.

        "How do you feel about her, Dean? Does she steal all your father's attention away? Is that why he's never home?" he said, grunting it out while trying to force Dean's arms down. "You could help me kill 'er. We could do it together."

        Dean got an arm free and punched Billy in the nose. With a grunt of pain, Billy fell over on the bed with his hands to his nose, which was bleeding.

        Dean, getting off the bed, headed for his bathroom. "Don't move. Just stay down. I'll get you a wet rag."

        It took Dean a minute to find a rag and wet it down, then wring it out. When he came back to his room with the damp rag, Billy was sitting on the bed with the knife in his hand. Blood dotted the area from his nose to his top lip, but he didn't seem to notice it anymore. Billy had cut a shallow line down a small portion of his forearm. He was holding the arm up and watching the blood run to his elbow in a thin rivulet. "Have you ever noticed that blood is the perfect color?" Billy was mesmerized, just watching. "Scarlet. It's a beautiful shade of scarlet."

        Horrified, Dean slowly took a seat on the bed, reached out, and took the knife from Billy. He didn't seem to notice. Dean simply wrapped the rag around Billy's arm and rubbed the blood off, keeping pressure on the part that was cut. "Billy..." He gently cupped Billy's cheek.

        Like a rag doll, Billy seemed to have no will, allowing Dean to act on him, lowering his arm. Then out of nowhere, he began to sob. "I don't want them to get divorced, Dean. I don't want everything to change."

        Dean could have laughed at how simple and childlike Billy's wish was, how he just didn't want his life turned upside down, but he didn't want Billy to think he was laughing at him; rather, the reaction would be due to his disbelief over the whole crazy encounter. "I know you don't. Nobody wants their life to be fucked over." Since the rag was already in use, Dean used his ruined shirt to wipe at the blood under Billy's nose. Then he hugged the other boy to him and let him cry.

        "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm sorry I attacked you. I'm sorry I almost cut you."

        "It's okay, just forget it."

        They kissed, and then Dean held him as long as he felt he needed it.


Chapter 9: The Hills Have Eyes

Chapters: 9 of 15 (5,297 words this part)

        "Billy didn't come over for a couple of weeks after that," Dean told Paul. He shook his head at the memory. "We didn't talk as much at school. Then, one night, Billy just showed up at my window and slipped into bed with me. We didn't do anything that night, just held each other and stuff. That's when I realized that I wanted to do anything I could to help him through this. But there were so many things I didn't know."

        "About Bridger, right? About why he was making these films? Why he told Billy what was going on?" asked Paul.

        "Yeah. You knew there had to be more to that." Before continuing, Dean let out a sigh. "Roman Bridger was Maureen Prescott's illegitimate child."

        Such a thing was personal to Paul, being that he was probably unplanned himself. He rested his chin on his clasped fists. "Wow."

        "From what the newspapers said, Bridger went to her, looking for her approval and love, and she rejected him. Said that he was a relic of her old life and she just wanted to put that behind her. Bridger decided to kill her out of revenge, but he didn't want to get caught, so he found someone else to do it for him."


        Dean nodded. "Yeah. He showed Billy the film to get him angry, then he started to coach him... on how to get away with murder."

        "Oh my God."

        "I had no idea." Dean shook his head. "I mean, who could have known?"

        "I can understand how Bridger felt, but to have someone killed over such a thing... he must've lost his mind. You said you read about this in the paper?" Paul asked.

        "Yeah, after Bridger decided he wanted to get into the action of his little movie and not just pull the strings from behind the scenes anymore. Ya see, Sidney Prescott was his half-sister, and she was the favored child, the one who got to be raised by Mommy. He wanted her to die too. But Billy and Stu failed there. Sidney killed them both in self-defense," explained Dean. "The girl's resourceful. An excellent shot. I don't know if she's aware that her dad's a hunter, but I wouldn't be surprised if he taught her a thing or two.

        "When Sidney survived the massacre, Bridger decided to eventually go after her himself. He killed a few more along the way. But Sidney, again, made it out alive."

        Paul huffed, shaking his head too. "This is one involved story. So many twists and turns."

        "Yeah, and I'm getting ahead of myself. Bridger and Billy's first meeting was in early March. Sammy was turning twelve in May, so I started plotting to get him something special."

        "Hey, my birthday's in May too. The 23rd," Paul chuckled. "What about Sam?"

        "May 2nd. So your birthday is coming up, huh? I'll just have to plan something special for you too," Dean said with a wink.

        "Uh oh. I'm in trouble." They shared a moment, grinning at each other. "So what'd you do to Sam?"

        "Got him a chemistry set. And a girl."


        Dean just snickered. "There was this younger girl, fifteen at the time, I think, named Tatum. She wasn't doing so well in Geometry. I heard her bitching about it so I offered to have Sammy tutor her as long as she, ah, gave him a little education in girls." Seeing the alarmed look on Paul's face, he put up his hands defensively. "Nothing hardcore, just harmless stuff. He was at the right age, you know?"

        Now Paul was laughing. "You are something else, you know that? Does Sam know you set this up?"

        "Nah." For a few moments, Dean became lost in thought. He remembered Tatum sitting at the stone table outside, in the shade, cussing at her Geometry book.

        "Fuck, why do you have to be so hard?!"

        Such a comment turned Dean's head. The blonde girl slammed a hand down on the open book, almost breaking her pencil when she tossed it against the table. It bounced and rolled to the ground, landing in the grass. Sammy seemed to like blonde girls.

        "Hey." Dean came over, put his foot up on the stone bench and leaned on his knee. "You're Tatum, right?"

        "Yeah...?" Suddenly, recognition came into her eyes. "I've seen you at Billy Loomis's parties, haven't I?"

        "Uh huh."

        "You guys are friends with Stu Macher."

        Dean made a face of disgust. "Unfortunately."

        "Aw, come on. He's cool."

        "If you say so."

        Paul saw the solemn look on Dean's face. He slipped a hand on Dean's knee. "Can I?"

        Dean just nodded, and Paul was there. He could see teenage Dean talking to a girl at school around an outdoor table.

        "You need tutoring? You seem to be having some trouble." Dean pointed at the Geometry book.

        "God, yes. This stuff is Satanic." Tatum grinned. "You mean Stu, right? Stu wants to tutor me?"

        Dean made that scrunched up, disgusted face again. "No way. He's so dumb he couldn't count to twenty-one without getting naked." He shook off a full-body shudder. "Why am I talking about Stu and nakedness in the same sentence...?"

        "Sounds good," Tatum commented with a snicker.

        "Ewwww. Stop it. I just ate."

        She tried to defend her stance. "He's really funny."

        "Funny looking and funny smelling."

        "Stop it, now. Really." Tatum giggled and looked up at him hopefully.

        Dean realized this wasn't the answer she wanted, but he barreled ahead anyway. "No, I didn't mean Stu would be tutoring you. I meant, um... my little brother."

        "Oh." Tatum leaned back, her body language showing what she thought of that. "How old is he, fifteen? Fourteen?"

        "Um... he'll be twelve in a month."

        Her mouth hanging open in offense, Tatum started to gather her things. "Nice joke, Williams. Ha ha."

        "It's Winchester, actually, and I was serious." He put a hand on her open Geometry book and held it down, to keep her from picking it up. Tatum acted like she was going to slam it closed on his hand, so he grabbed the other side of the book to stop her from doing it. "Would you just calm down? My brother's really smart, okay? I mean scary smart. But he's not very experienced with girls and I don't want him to turn into a social retard or something."

        Tatum gave him that offended look again, mouth open and brow furrowed. "What the hell do you expect me to - "

        "No! No, nothing like that." Dean, unable to help it, had to laugh. "I just thought maybe you could talk to him about girls, hug him sometimes, give him a little cleavage now and then. Bolster his confidence a bit. Sammy spends all his time with the geeks in the Science Club. He wouldn't know what to do with a girl if one laid across his bed buck naked."

        "And what do I get out of this?"

        Dean seemed confused. "You get better grades in Geometry."


        "And..." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "I'll put in a good word for you with Stu."

        Bouncing gleefully, Tatum let out a squeal of triumph. "You've got yourself a deal."

        Paul was about to release himself from the clairvoyant link, but the memory in Dean's mind's eye shifted. He gripped Dean's knee lightly again.

        Standing around the corner, Dean listened to what was going on during Sammy's latest tutoring session with Tatum. Dean made sure that they had a session on Sam's birthday, hoping she'd at least give him a kiss to make things extra special. Ever since the tutoring had started, Sammy hadn't been able to stop talking about how much he liked it, looked forward to it, probably fantasized about it. He made out like it was all about teaching, how rewarding it was to help someone learn something, but Dean knew it was at least half about the low-cut shirts Tatum wore to the tutoring sessions.

        Dean wondered if he should do the big brother thing for a moment, after the sounds he was hearing, but it was really all very innocent. Sammy was ready for this. Tatum made a small moan, obviously playing it up (obvious to Dean, anyway), and then there were more kissing sounds. When their lips parted, Sam made a little "Meep"-like noise.

        "Mm, you're a really good kisser, Sam," Tatum said, all breathy.

        Dean mouthed, "Oh yeah," and gave Sam a thumbs up from the other side of the wall.

        "I have to go. Um, hands off."

        Sammy sounded embarrassed when he replied, "Oh, sorry." His voice cracked a little.

        Dean stifled a chuckle.

        There were sounds of books being gathered, then Tatum leaned over and gave Sam one more small kiss. "You're going to be a heartbreaker some day, Sammy. Enjoy your birthday."

        When Dean heard the front door close, he came out. Sam didn't know he was there, so when he turned around and saw someone standing behind him, Sam gasped, his entire body jerking, and put a hand to his heart. "Don't do that."

        "How'd it go, you little heartbreaker?"

        Glaring at him, Sam walked past his brother and began to clean his study materials off the table. "Were you eavesdropping?"

        "No, I just heard that one last thing before Tatum left," Dean lied. "So... what happened? Did I hear her kiss you?"

        Shy, embarrassed, Sam cringed in on himself, not looking up. "Yeah..."

        Dean hopped up on the table and took a seat. "What else? Did Tatum do anything special for your birthday?"

        Sam rolled his eyes.

        "Come on, you can tell me," he added, using the soothing big brother tone he used when Sam needed to be coddled.

        "Ummm... she uh, she... was talking about what girls like, 'cause I asked her something, you know, about it, and she... Tatum goes, she said it would be easier if she showed me something, so she kinda kissed me more than once... and stuff..."

        "You guys totally made out!"

        Sam desperately tried to shush him. "Don't be so loud!"

        "Dad's not here. He won't be home 'til dinner time." Dean continued to chuckle, unable to stop. "Woohoo, Sammy, you got to first base on your twelfth birthday. How does it feel?"

        A little smile crept around the corners of Sam's mouth. "Pretty good."

        "A kiss and... under the shirt?"


        Dean put his hands in front of his chest like he was cupping a girl's breasts. "She let you feel her up, didn't she?"

        "God, Dean, how can you ask me stuff like that?!" Sam hastily gathered up his schoolbooks.

        He imitated Tatum's voice, rubbing at his chest through his shirt. "Oh, Sammy... that feels good."

        "You're such a pervert." His cheeks bright red, Sam hurried off to his room.

        Dean, grinning mischievously, called, "Just make sure you wash your hands after you're done beating off! Dinner's in an hour!"

        Paul couldn't help but laugh at Dean's audacity as he released his hold on Dean's mind. "You're such a big brother."

        Although he didn't feel it, Dean tried to laugh too. "It was a big deal. I never thought Tatum would actually make out with him like that, but she told me later she was just feeling it that day. Pretty funny, huh?" He let out a small laugh, but quickly fell solemn again.

        "Dean, what is it?" Paul asked, his hand going to Dean's back.

        "It wasn't for a while, but Tatum eventually got Stu's attention. They were a couple for about a year. I still don't understand why..."

        "Why what?" Paul rubbed his back.

        "When Billy and Stu went on their killing spree, Tatum was among the people they murdered."


        Paul decided to put on a shirt and get himself some more coffee before Dean continued his story. He handed Dean a Coke and sat back down. "I bet Sam took it hard."

        "Yeah. Tatum was the first girl he ever really kissed," Dean said with a sigh. "Anyway, we were at Sam's birthday... um, about a month later, school let out. Our dad shipped us off to Torrance to spend the summer with the Nakamuras."


        "Raidan Nakamura. He's a hunter from Torrance, California. Has a furniture business and runs a dojo on the side. Pretty traditional Japanese man. He lives there with his daughter and one of her cousins, and his mother."

        "Why did your father send you there?"

        His eyes shifting, Dean uttered, "Umm..."

        Sam banged on the bathroom door once more. "Dean, I gotta go! Are you ever coming out?"

        "Goddamn it, Sammy, use your own bathroom!"

        "Bobby's in there! What's taking you so long?"

        Dean, letting out a cry, groaned out, "God, it BURNS!"

        "I'm telling Dad that it burns when you piss!"

        "You do and I'll kick your balls so far up into your body you'll taste your pubes for a - "

        "Dean, what's going on?" John's voice asked from the other side of the door.


        The doctor visit had been most unpleasant, but not as unpleasant as the talk Dean had gotten afterward. "Chlamydia, Dean? Chlamydia? How could you go out and catch yourself an STD? Don't you have any sense?"

        Dean shrugged under his father's steely glare.

        "What do I tell you?"

        Sighing, he recited, "If I'm going to be sexually active, always use a condom."

        "Right. Well, you're not going to cat around with your friends all summer, that's for sure. You and Sammy are spending the summer in Torrance."

        When he saw Paul reaching for his knee, Dean pushed the hand away. Paul blinked in confusion. "Naughty naughty," Dean said, and cleared his throat self-consciously.

        "I'm sorry..." offered Paul. "I shouldn't just assume that it's okay. It's just that, it's a pretty new ability to me, and I'm anxious to use it..."

        "There's nothing to see in this case. Nothing at all."

        Narrowing his eyes at Dean, Paul asked, "Why are you embarrassed?"

        "I'm not."

        "Yeah you are - "

        Dean cut in quickly before he could say anymore. "Our dad just wanted us to learn some martial arts, that's all. Hone our fighting skills. Besides, he needed us out of his hair so he could plan everything with the other hunters."

        Although he could feel that there was more to the story, Paul dropped it. "Okay. Did you have a good time, at least?"

        "Actually, yeah, we did. Nakamura-san had a couple of kids our age, they live close to the beach, and we each learned some new, kickass skills. Helped them put a koi pond in the backyard and everything. Sam and I had a blast. Which..." Dean frowned. "...kinda made me feel guilty at times."

        "Because you left Billy behind."

        "Yeah. Bridget spent the summer in northern California, working as a cheerleading camp counselor. I didn't even know they had camps for that." Dean let out a little laugh. "Her parents didn't want her hanging around Billy and me all summer. So Billy was left alone with his fucked up feelings... and Stu." Taking a few seconds to chew on a nail, Dean finally added, "That's when it really all started. Billy's plot."

        Paul placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. Lots of kids go off on trips for the summer. You couldn't have - "

        "If I'd been there for him, maybe I could have turned him around. It was just a divorce; lots of kids have divorced parents. How could I have known he'd take it so far?"

        "Billy's parents got divorced?"

        Dean nodded. "Mrs. Loomis found out about the affair and threatened to divorce him. They tried to work it out for about a month, but ultimately... it wasn't long after I got back from Torrance..."


        "Now boys, I know you've only been home for a short time," John began as he entered his house and tossed his keys on an endtable, "but we're going to get right down to work."

        Dean and Sam placed their knapsacks on the floor just inside the door. "Sure, Dad."

        "While you were gone, myself and the other hunters began formulating a plan. There are several things we need to fill you in on, so if you'll park yourselves at the table..." John turned around to find only Sam standing in the foyer. "Where's your brother?"

        "Um... he's really anxious to check in on his friends," Sam replied, fidgeting with how awkward this was.

        "What? That can wait." John heard the Impala roar to life. "Dean! You get your ass back in here!"

        By the time he got outside, Dean was already taking off down the street. John slapped the edge of the doorjamb. "That kid... apparently he didn't learn a thing about obedience in Torrance."

        Dean knew he would be in deep trouble when he went back home, but he couldn't just sit in that house and listen to his father prattle on about The Plan when Billy had been left to his own devices for three months. Last time he saw Billy, he was dejectedly waving at John's truck as John drove him and Sammy away to Torrance. John wanted his boys to concentrate on their training, so he hadn't allowed Billy to visit Dean in Torrance, nor Dean to visit Billy, even though it wasn't that far.

        It was John's insistence on keeping them away from each other all summer that forced Dean to defy his father, he thought. He had a right to be worried about his friend, after all Billy had been going through last time Dean saw him.

        When Dean pulled up in front of the Loomis home and stepped out into the cool night air, he realized he could hear Billy's parents yelling at each other from the street. Granted, the front window was open, but still, they were really going at it. He wondered if Billy was home, listening to that. Mrs. Loomis was crying.

        Shit, she'd found out about the affair.

        Dean approached the house cautiously. The closer he got, the more he noticed a steady thumping sound coming from the side of the house. Squinting into the darkness, Dean thought he could see movement in that area.

        He found Billy sitting on the ground beside the chimney, his hands over his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. To Dean's horror, Billy was thumping the back of his head against the house and chanting to himself, "I don't hear them, I don't hear them, I don't hear them..."

        "Billy?" Dean said, touching his arm. The concern he was feeling came through in his voice.

        He opened his eyes, visibly shocked at the voice he was hearing. "Dean? Dean, are you really back?"

        "Yeah, I just got here. I rushed right over to check on you. What are you doing; stop hurting yourself." Dean put a hand to the back of Billy's head. He winced. Dean's hand came away with spots of blood. "Jesus Christ, Billy."

        "They're fighting again."

        "I can hear that." He didn't have anything on hand to tend to Billy's head. "Come with me, okay? We'll go to my house."

        Billy seemed to be in a trance. "They're getting divorced, Dean. I know they are. It's just a matter of time." He sounded like he'd been crying.

        "Billy, I'm sorry. I know you're taking this hard." Dean tried to get him to stand. Billy was dead weight. "Come on, man. Let's go. No use hanging around here while they're arguing."

        "Dean, they're going to get divorced and she'll take me away." He was more blubbering than speaking now, collapsing on the ground in tears as Dean was still trying to drag him to the car.

        Dean's eyes rolled up a little; a part of him wanted to think that Billy was being a drama queen about this and just kick him in the butt, but the part that loved him won out. He got down next to Billy, took him in his arms, and held him until he'd cried it out. "It's okay. It'll be okay."

        It took Billy a few minutes to calm down, where Dean could wipe his tears with the pads of his thumbs and give him their first kiss in months. "They're not going to separate us, no matter what happens. Okay? We'll figure something out."

        Billy nodded; his face lit up with hope.

        Less than ten minutes later, Dean walked in the front door of his house with Billy in tow. He'd found a dishtowel in his car to clean up Billy's head with, and he'd already stopped bleeding. But Dean wanted to watch over him for the night after the self-harming display.

        "Dean, come in here!" John roared before Dean had even had time to close the front door. He cringed, but still took Billy by the arm and pulled him along.

        Dean's eyes widened at all the people sitting around the table. "What the hell?"

        The look on John's face when he saw Billy wasn't happy. "This isn't a good time for your friend to visit, Dean. Can he walk home?"

        Dean didn't answer. He was staring at one of the men sitting at the table.

        Neil Prescott.

        He wondered if Billy knew what the man looked like. Before he could say anything, Neil's expression changed to one of recognition. "Oh, hey Billy."

        His eyes shifting about, Billy gave a little wave. "Hi Mr. Prescott."

        "You know this boy?" said John.

        "Yes. I didn't know he was friends with your son," Neil replied, making conversation.

        Dean had to know what was up with this shit, and now. "Dad, I'm sorry I left, but Billy's parents are going through some stuff and you wouldn't let him come visit us in Torrance, so I had to - "

        "You didn't have to do anything but mind your father," John growled at him.

        Dean continued, swallowing down any hesitancy he felt. "I just thought it'd be better if he stayed here tonight since his parents are fighting."

        "Oh no. No way. After the way you've behaved - "

        With a long sigh, Bobby cut in, "Aw hell, John, just let the boy stay. He can wait in Dean's room. I'd like to get this show on the road if you don't mind."

        The others echoed that sentiment, nodding and crying, "Yeah!" They had been waiting for hours and they weren't about to wait anymore.

        "It's alright, John. The boy's okay," Neil added.

        John knew when he was outnumbered. He huffed out an irritated breath and turned to his son. "Alright, Billy can stay. But he goes right to your room and stays there while we have our meeting. You got that?"

        Grateful, Dean pushed Billy toward the hall.

        When he got Billy alone, Dean roughly sat him down on his bed and fixed him with a serious look. "Why does Neil Prescott know who you are?"

        Shrugging, Billy replied, "Bridget met his daughter at cheerleading camp. They've been back for almost a month and I've been hanging out with them."

        "Bridget just happened to make friends with Sidney Prescott."


        "Sidney Prescott, the daughter of the woman who's sleeping with your father."

        "Uh huh."

        "Billy, do you think I'm stupid?" Dean leaned over, eye to eye with him. "What are you doing?"

        He sighed. "Look, I know it seems suspicious, but I really didn't realize who she was until the girls invited me over to Sidney's house and I saw the pictures on the wall." Dean kept glaring at him, so Billy continued. "You saw the guy out there. Did Mr. Prescott react to me as if I've tried to take a chunk out of his wife's head or something?"

        Taking a deep, angry breath, Dean paced from one end of the room to the other. He came back and stood before Billy again. "I know you're upset. I also know that if you could, you probably would take a chunk out of Mrs. Prescott." Dean crouched before him. "Billy, you've gotta stop this. It isn't good for you."

        Billy just shrugged again. "I don't know what you're talking about."

        John rapped loudly on the door. "Dean! Get out here!"

        Gesturing to the door, Billy asked, "What's up with you? I saw a lot of guns out there. Probably enough for each person and more."

        Now Dean just shrugged. "My dad's got a hunting club."


        John glared at his son as he slumped into a chair at the table. "Now... we can get started."

        "Finally," a woman said. An amused snicker passed through the crowd.

        John, looking at her tiredly, attempted to continue. "Boys, these people have been here for a couple of days; I'm gathering an army to make a strike against the Chaos demons guarding Cypress Woods. We've spent that time getting a good picture of what these demons look like so we can tell them apart from regular wildlife. Soon, we'll be ready."

        He began to introduce everyone. "You already know Neil and Bobby."

        "Hi Uncle Bobby," Sam giggled.

        Bobby grinned. "Hi boys."

        "That's Bill and Ellen Harvelle."

        They offered a small wave. Dean, his face confused, looked at the little blonde girl sitting between them. Her pigtails bounced as she rubbed a rag over a shotgun on the table with much zeal. "And that's their daughter Jo."

        "The little girl's not going hunting with us, is she?" Dean mumbled.

        Ellen said, "No," at the same time that Bill said, "Yes." They looked at each other.

        "Bill, she's only ten," Ellen protested.

        "This probably isn't the best time to talk about this, Ellen..."

        Dean sat forward and nearly whined, "The little ten-year-old squirt gets to go on the hunt but you won't let me go?!" to his father.

        "She's not going," John and Ellen said together.

        "Girl's gotta learn sometime," Bill said to himself.

        Ellen repeated, "Bill, she's TEN."

        Putting his first two fingers between his lips, Bobby whistled loud enough to get everyone's attention. Jo finally stopped polishing the gun and covered her ears. "Knock it off!" Bobby yelled.

        "Thank you," John said, rolling his eyes. "Dean, you may get to go, I haven't decided yet."

        Dean did a little dance of triumph in his seat.

        "Anyway... that's Drew and Kaitlyn Tripp." John indicated the last couple at the table, a man with dishwater blond hair and a slight bit of stubble, and a woman with long wine red hair. He adjusted the bill on his cap and lifted a hand in greeting, while she gave a nod.

        "Neil and I did some surveillance on these woods and have confirmed that the Chaos demons are Egyptian in origin. They're avatars of Seth."

        "The Egyptian god of Chaos," Sam added.

        "Yes, that's right. Very good Sam." John patted his shoulder. "This is a sketch of the demons. You'll see that they look a lot like coyotes, but there are significant differences." He passed the sketch around the table. "The cult will use any representation of Chaos they can to protect themselves. It's the nature of their worship. They just happened to choose Seth for this."

        Drew showed the drawing to his wife. "Look, the forked tail and the ears."

        She nodded.

        "Yeah, as you can see, they have a skinny tail that forks at the end and long ears that don't come to a point. Instead, they're blunt. And their snouts are more elongated than a normal canine," explained John.

        "What else do we know about them?" Ellen asked.

        Neil spoke up. "Their howl sounds like crazy laughter. But not human. It's just... very hard to describe."

        "You'll know it when you hear it," Drew added.

        "The main reason I brought Drew and Kaitlyn in is because they've hunted these things before," John told everyone. "I'm sure they can fill in more information." He sat on the corner of the table, turning the floor over to them.

        "There are a few things we need to go over. For one, never look an avatar of Seth in the eyes. Chaos represents the blackness of space, the nothingness of the vacuum. It is the opposite of order. If they get you, you'll see their eyes swim with colors inside a field of black. It will hypnotize you. And that's when another avatar will come at you from the back..." Drew stretched an arm across the table toward Jo, "...and rip your kidneys out." He balled the hand into a fist and abruptly pulled it back.

        Jo giggled. "Those are some weird-lookin' doggies."

        As he was examining the drawing of the avatar, Dean agreed, "You said it, kid."

        "You can kill them the normal way, with bullets. But you gotta be careful of their blood. It has the same properties as their eyes. Stare directly at it for more than a few seconds and you'll become hypnotized. Their blood is black," Drew said, and added, "so if you see black puddles in the woods, avoid 'em."

        "Neil and I have counted at least twelve of these avatars at once. Their packs are large, and dangerous. But as Drew said, they can be taken down by regular bullets," John said.

        "When you shoot 'em, try to avoid their eyes. Just shoot them in the head or heart," Kaitlyn instructed.

        "And try not to spill too much of their blood," said Drew.

        A little confused by these instructions, Ellen asked, "Why are we avoiding the eyes? Seems like if they can hypnotize people, it'd be a good idea to destroy them."

        "Because John promised we could harvest whatever parts we want," Kaitlyn answered, her tone bright and without shame. "The eyes are valuable."

        "So is the blood," Drew revealed.

        "A jar of that will set you up for a month, easy."

        "So you're profiteers," Bill spat, clearly disgusted with the idea. "John, how could you let them in on this?"

        "Because they know a lot about what we're fighting," said John, spoken as if he thought Bill should have known the answer to his own question. "What do I care if they want to collect a few things from the carcasses? It's their business."

        "I'm entirely against it."

        Kaitlyn leaned forward. "So look the other way."

        "We're not even going to fight about this..." Bobby began.

        "We gotta have some way to make a living when we're spending our time out here," Drew said, defending his way of life. "How do you make your money?"

        "Honestly," Ellen mumbled. Bill snickered.

        When he saw both Kaitlyn and Drew open their mouths to respond, John kicked the leg of the table, making the whole thing shake. It startled everyone enough to bring all attention back to him. "Let's not start a debate about making an honest living, alright? I could beat you all out in the dishonest living department and you know it."

        The adults all laughed a little, but Dean and Sam remained quiet.

        "Let's just get this job done and leave the judgments to God."

        "Here, here."

        "No," Bobby started, and grinned. "Beer, beer."

        John burst out laughing.

        Chuckling hard, Bobby added, "Put the beer, beer here, here," and patted the table in front of him.

        Once the crowd had broken up into smaller groups, and were focusing their attention on drinking and enjoying themselves, Dean casually approached Neil Prescott with a question on his lips. "Hey Mr. Prescott."

        "Hi Dean." He crooked his thumb back at the hallway. "Don't you have a guest?"

        "Uh, yeah. I was just curious..." Dean wet his lips nervously. "How do you know Billy?"

        "Billy? Oh," Neil began, and then dropped the bomb. "...he's my daughter's boyfriend."

On to Chapter 10.

The drawing of the avatar is an ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic.

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