"Thank you Eleanor. Although it would take alot. Without an Angel blade."
"Cas I will take your head. As in I will take the sharpest axe in the trunk of Dean's car and I will hack off your head and drive it to Tenesse after I burn your meat suit to ashes-"
"Okay we're seperating you both."
"You said you wanted to hear about any other weird ones?"
Humming I follow Dr Corman inside the morgue, snapping my latex gloves on "Absolutely."
Approaching the gurney, I raise my brows the second the mortician tears back the cover. Underneath a man who's stomach is protruding larger then the length of my head. "Lester Finch. Pulled his records. Looks like this gentleman used to weigh 400 pounds or so, till he got a gastric bypass, which brought down his weight considerably. But then, for some reason last night, he decided to go on a twinkie binge."
Scrunching my nose, I wonder "Died from a Twinkie Binge?"
"Well, after he blew out the band around his stomach, he filled it up till it burst. When he could no longer swallow he started jamming the cakes down his gullet with a...with a toilet brush. Like he was ramrodding a cannon."
Leaning closer I gently poke at the exploded stomach. Nothing soft. The gut is tough. Stuffed to the brim. "What do you make of it?" I ask Dr Corman.
Hearing his shuffle I glance over my shoulder. Dr Corman saluting me with a whiskey flask "I'd say that it was a very peculiar thing to do."
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Shoving open the door to the diner I duck back out onto the sidewalk. Falling easily into step with the rest of the foot traffic. Clutching the brown paper bag containing our lunch tight in my grasp. Is it possible that Cupid set an arrow of his loose in a Twinkie factory? What could drive anyone to ramrod Twinkie's down their throat?
At the mere idea my stomach turns on me. I find myself wanting to throw the ham sandwiches from Carols Cafe in the trash bin I pass by. The stiff corpse gut plaguing my conscious. Crossing the sidewalk my hand hangs the paper bag over the trash. Dean and Sam can thank me later after I apologise for wasting our hustled bills.
Yet my hand wavers. My gaze noting three gentlemen moving through the street across from me. The more you hunt the better you get at picking the monsters from the crowds. Monsters don't slump and limp, they walk with predetermined grace. Every step calculated to precision. With every calculated step they take down the path I take the same. Shadowing them across the street my watching stare is glued as they enter the building. My boot hovers over the street for a moment before a harsh yank on my jacket hauls me into the alleyway.
Huffing, I snap "Crowely I have precisely zero time for your shenannigan's."
Crowely- true to himself- grins back "Whilst I do enjoy a good tit for tat with you Alexander, this is me looking out for your best interest." Rolling my eyes, I clip Crowley with my shoulder only to go nowhere. Shoved back into the alley it takes two micro seconds for an iron dagger to appear in my fingers. Pursing his lips, Crowely finds it in himself to snidely comment "You're awfully angry Eleanor Alexander."
"That's because you're impeccable at making me furious everytime we meet" I point the tip of my dagger towards him "I have three high then thou Angel's snooping across the street. If you don't move then let me do you the pleasure of moving you myself."
Staring at me, Crowley smirks devilishly "Is it just me or has hanging around those Winchesters driven you to think with you fists instead of your head?" Motioning across the street, Crowley laughs "I mean you have an iron dagger in your hand ready to storm the steps of a police morgue to satisfy the fury you have screaming in your head."
"I don't have time for this!" I snap, shoving Crowley out of my way to get through him.
"You've got a Horseman on your hands lassie!" Stopping at the edge of the alley, my gaze rests like rock on the morgue across the street "Famine to be precise."
"I'm not hungry."
"Don't think so laterally about it moron", Crowley snaps to my back "You'd go attack those three Angel's over there on a regular hunting day?" I grind my teeth when the three Angel's step from the threshhold. Gliding down the steps they begin down the street. Every fiber of my muscles screaming for me to follow. "You feel that?" Crowley's voice mutters near my ear, a snide taunt "That craving for violence?"
"Then how come I'm not cracking open your skull on the pavement like it's a grapefruit?" Tucking away the dagger, I grit through my teeth "What makes you so special?"
Raising his hands, Crowley steps back like he's on cloud nine "Cause you got a thirst kid... and it's not to kill Demon's."
Silently, I return my attention down the block and they've disappeared into the wind like they'd never been there to begin with. Relaxing my jaw I drag a hand through my hair. It explains the twinkie binge. Nobody in their right mind could manage that. Jack and Alice didn't eat each other- they craved each other. "Cas", I find myself realising "Cas never eats but he's been hounding cheeseburgers by the dime."
"There she is", Crowely saunters off down the alleyway "Don't let that mind dullen Alexander. It's your one saving grace."
"Why?" Having regained his slow attention, I question "Why'd you give me this information? You didn't have to."
"The Horsmen are bad for business" Crowley spits the name as if it's acid on his tongue "You call it a Quid Pro Quo."
He tells me what's going on in town, we get our hands dirty cleaning up the mess "I'm not your trash-man Crowley."
"No" he agrees with a wicked grin "But you don't mind getting your hands dirty. I appreciate that in a woman. Apparently so do the Winchesters." That said, he disappears before I can get out a single other word. Huffing I slip back off into the street. Sandwiches tightly clenched in my hand.
Then will come Famin. Riding on a black steade. He will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the horseman's hunger for he is hunger.
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Entering the motel room, I slam the door shut "We have a Horseman on our hands." Sam and Dean exchange a glance and I realise "You know?"
"Cas is filling us in", Dean cranes his head curiously "How'd you figure it out?"
"Crowley popped in for a visit" I drop the sandwiches on the desk, pausing to furrow my brows "What's up with the empty suitcase?"
"The Twinkie Man's soul was inside", Cas motions to it from across the room with his cheeseburger "Lucifer sent Demon's to care for Famin. Make he will be ready."
"For what?"
"To march a famin across the world" I answer Sam, holding my finger out at Cas "Please don't get closer to me Cas." When he doesn't I grab the sandwiches and throw them at him. Stepping back until I'm in the furthest corner of the motel room. My attention as sharp on the space between us as it is to the pulsating in my hand. Like an itch screaming me to use them.
"El?" Dean makes a point of stepping between Cas and I, seemingly sensing the strain weighing on my shoulders "El you wanna fill me in here?"
Reaching into my jacket I slide out my duel silver and iron dagger. "You know how Cas is craving cheeseburgers?" I toss the weapons into the farthest reaches of the room "Well...I want nothing more then to right now tear Cas's angelic essence from his meatsuit and shred it." His green eyes widening a fraction, I need to clarify before I lose my mind "How'd we end up with a briefcase containing a soul? You two jump one of his goons?"
"No", Sam sheepishly tucks his hands into his jean pockets "Just me." Raising my brows, Sam adds, "I smelt the Demon blood and..."
And he needed to get a hit.
"Okay we need to take this guy out" I decide to not get into the addiction with Sam, "Frankly I quite enjoy Cas's company and would love to keep him around a little longer."
"Thank you Eleanor" Cas digs into the bottom of his wrapper "Although it would take alot of effort on your part without an Angel blade."
"Cas I will take your head" I voice over him, clenching my knuckles till they're digging into my palm "As in I will take the sharpest axe in the trunk of Dean's car and I will hack off your head and drive it to Tenesse after I burn your meat suit to ashes-"
"Okay we're seperating you both", Dean steps
forwards, nudging me gentle towards the door "So Cas can keep his head." Outside Dean yanks the door shut tightly. Yet even the cool air isn't enough to stop the craving in my gut. Encouraging me to break down the door. Leaning against the Impala I watch Dean turn back around to me, curtly asking "You good?"
Just as curtly, I nod. Sighing, Dean drags a hand down his face. Settling down beside me on the hood. "What's our plan?"
Snorting, Dean shrugs "Think we're all but winging it at this point."
"Well last time we cut off the ring from War's finger" I remind Dean, suggesting "Maybe that's their power source? Cut off the ring you sever their power? Wake everyone up from their crazy spiral."
"Better guess then any" Dean agrees "Let's go hunting and get to chopping." Sliding from the hood I reach to grasp Dean's hand before he can go inside. The silent question must've been screaming in my gaze because Dean squeezes my hand "I'm okay."
"Are you?" My gaze looks Dean suspiciously up and down "Seem to be holding up better then us?"
Shrugging, Dean steps out of my grasp and back towards the room "Dunno. Must just be my luck!" Furrowing my brows I stare after Dean as he disappears inside. I think we both know its not just luck. Why's he not twitching like the rest of us?
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"You know what" I begin, head leaning against my hand propped against the window "I never thought I'd be staking out a soul."
Snorting, Dean jokes "What? That wasn't in your Hunting Bingo?"
"Hunting Bingo was ditched the second Mr Baby in a Trenchcoat stole you from Hell's pits" I smack his shoulder, "Your one lucky hot potato Dean Winchester."
Dean parts his lips to bite back bit the words catch in his throat. Distracted by something across the road I follow his line of sight. A man dressed in a tux slinks from the Morgue. Briefcase in hand he dodges through people like water bending around a turn. "You think that's our guy moving souls?"
Unquestionably.
Already tugging on my seatbelt, I sigh "Poor Dr Corman. I really liked him." We arrived to recheck out body only for the front desk to advise us Dr Corman drank himself to death overnight...he was twenty years sober.
Humming agreeably, Dean taps on the window for Cas to get back in "Yeah. Feel sorry for the man." Cas sliding into the back we take off after the man. Keeping our distance we cruise on his tail as he floats through the crowds on the sidewalk. A warm hand settles on my thigh and I become acutely aware of just how viciously I was bouncing it. I muster a scarce smile at Dean. It must've not met my eyes because his hand gently squeezes. It comforts me slightly knowing Dean would stop me. Still, my nails dig onto the muscles on my arms. Trying to remind my body of who's in control.
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Staking out the Biggerson's restaurant on the edge of town the car is absolutely silent. The lights are out leaving us unable to glimpse inside at the situation. Cas's been inside for three minutes now- closing in on four.
"How long do you think it takes for an angel to fly inside, cut off a horseman's ring finger, and fly out?" Dean finally asks the question I've been mulling over in silence.
Without missing a beat, I shove the Impala door open "Not this long." Deans door follows mine not a second later. Boots scuffing over the gravel, I pull out my daggers and extend them to Dean. Concern meeting my gaze, I push the daggers against him "I don't want to hurt him."
Dean seems to throw the idea around in his head before reluctantly accepting my daggers. Tucking them into his jacket, Dean asks "And if you get jumped?"
"I have my knight in shining armour to protect me" fixing his navy cargo jacket, I stretch up on my toes and press a quick kiss to his lips. Backing up to cross the road, I raise my biceps "Or they can face the violence of Des and Troy."
Cringing, Dean reluctantly begins to match his steps after me, "Don't say it."
"And together they-"
"Don't-"
"Destroy!" I quietly whisper, smashing my fists together.
Matching my stride and I walk backwards, Dean bites down on his grin "You're so lame." Spinning around I'm half way across the road before Dean wraps his hand around my wrist. Tugging me to a halt. Scanning the restaurant behind me, he murmurs "Be careful." Dropping the jokes I slip my fingers through his and assuringly squeeze. Nobody's dying tonight. We took out one horseman. How hard can a second be?
We come in through the back to minimise our chances of a surprise. Sneaking through the back I stick close behind Dean. He didn't give me the option and frankly I didn't square up a fight. Dean has his shotgun loaded at the ready. A shell to the face is far more effective then a fist. Edging through the kitchen it's undeniable how silent this place is. Shadowing Dean I cringe at the sight of a man sunken waste deep in the bubbling fryer. As if he dove right in for the fries.
Curling my lip I glance out into the dinner and my stride falls short. Not the sight of Cas on his hands and knees shovelling uncooked mince. It's the tremour I feel in my hand. Shaking against my side I grind my teeth together. Trying to keep the thought of just how many knives are surrunding me from the forefront of my mind.
Blast of pain shoots through my head when I'm spun around and slammed into the mental kitchen benchtop. Vagually I hear Dean's shotgun go off before registering the Demon's firm grasp on my arm. Grapping a rolling pin strewn on the kitchen bench I swing. Clubbing the Demon over the head, I lean on the bench and boot him into the fryer. Blood dripping from the hilt of the rolling pin I don't get a moment to notice Dean flung through a pantry door. By my hair I'm dragged through the servers window. Yelp falling from my lips I try to protect my hair, praying it doesn't snap in the scums tight iron grasp. Wrapped taught in his hand I cry out again when I'm dragged to my knees from the glass covered floor.
"Well that was entertaining."
Shifting my attention from the floor I furrow my brows at the frail small man sat before me. So old he could be blown to ashes by the wind. My gaze following the oxygen tubes stemming from his nose to the tank his minions hold. When they finally drag Dean, still on his feet beside me, I wonder "You sure this fella's the Horseman?"
Grunting in agreement as two Demon's hold him in place, Dean thrashes "Doubt he's the one makin this down coo-coo for coa cocoa puffs."
This grants us a weak frail grin, "Doesn't take much. Hardly a push." With a disgusted glance around the dinner, Famin spits "Oh America. All you can eat... all the time. Comsume, comsume A swarm of locusts in stretch pants. And yet you're all still starving because hunger doesn't just come from the body it also comes from the soul." Famin's gaze turning on me I feel that familiar ache burning just under my skin. Humming, Famine inhales "Such animosity. Such hate. I can feel it coming out of your pours Alexander. Then again, you are a different kind of breed arn't you?"
"Doesn't seem to be coming from mine", Dean cuts in, reigning over Famine's attention from me.
"Yes. I noticed that." Famine slowly drawls, unfazed by Dean's thrashing about trying to rid himself of the Demon's hold. "Have you wondered why? How you could even walk in my presence?"
"I like to think it's because of my strength of character."
"I disagree. You can't fill it can you? That deep dark pit. Not with food or drink- not even with sex."
"Oh you're so full of crap."
"Oh you can smirk, joke and lie to your brother and your girl but you can't lie to me! I can see inside you Dean. I can see how broken you are. How defeated- you can't win and you know it but you just keep fighting. Just... keep going through the motions. You're not hungry Dean because the truth is inside you're already dead."
"Let him go."
Famine spinning in his motorised chair I peer around him only to have my hair and head yanks back to place. Although it's not fast enough for me to miss the blood smeared over his mouth. "Sam" Famine breathes excitedly, a far different tone then he took with us. When Demon's advance on him Famine bursts into a scream "Stop! Nobody lays a hand on this... sweet... little boy. Sam, I see you got the snack I sent you."
"You sent?"
"Don't worry. You're not like everyone else. You'll never die from drinking too much" As if a fanboy meeting his idol, Famine beams "You're the exception that proves the rule- just the way Satan wanted you to be. So..." Raising his hands, Famine offers "Cut their throats!" His Demon's must've missed that memo because I feel the grip on my hair lax. Noticing a few of them doing a double take with one another. None of them must've signed up to be a meal. "Have at them!"
Noticing the twitch of Sam's hands, I shove to my feet "Sam don't-!" Yelping I'm slammed back on my knees. Cringing at the knee I take in the back.
Gargles heard around me I lift my head to witness Sam expelling the Demon's from their hosts. The fact known when the grip on my hair relaxes and my body hit's the floorboards. Dark cloud of Demon swirling around me, I push myself aside. Dean also seeming to have the same idea he kicks himself aside to Cas. Demon hosts falling to my feet.
Silence stretches between all of us before Sam whispers, "No."
"Well... fine. If you don't..." breathing deeply, Famine sighs "Then I will." Like a bottomless pit, Famine opens his jaw and the Demon's are sucked inside. A continuous stream of injested dark smoke. Swirling so fast the smoke howls like a storm inside the restaurant.
Then, it dies off. Famine left alone in the middle of the room.
Before I can even look to Dean for some idea of what we do, Sam moves again. Getting closer to Famine, Sam raises his hand. As if trying to expell the Horseman from within. A disappointed smile on his frail lips, Famine sighs "I'm a Horseman Sam.. Your power doesn't work on me."
"You're right", Sam grunts, "But it will work on them." CLenching his fist I silently watch from the side as Famine's face curls. Frail sickly hands grasping onto his chair. In the blink of an eye, his head throws back and the souls within are set free. Exploding from Famine's body like a set off bomb. As soon as the darkness leaves the room, i grab the closest kitchen knife I can find. Without blinking, i take the Horsman's ring as well as three fingers for good measure, before Sam's body collapses to the tiles of the silent restaurant.
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"Help! Dean! Help! Help! Eleanor help me! Please! Come on guys! HELP! PLEASE HELP!"
From the stairs of Bobby's basement Istare numbly at the bunker's metal door. No matter how much Sam's pounded on it for the past day, the door doesn't budge. He just... keeps... banging. From the side of the door, Dean takes a long swig of straight whiskey from the bottle. I don't blame him. This is the second time we're detoxing Sam. Just like the first time it's been rough listening to.
Another moment passing by, Dean walks towards the stairs "I... I need to get some air." Nodding, I brush my fingers over his as Dean moves past me. Letting him get the moment of clarity he needs.
From across the room, Cas seems to deem it an appropriate time to voice "You wanted to kill me?"
Shaking my head, I lean tiredly against the wooden post supporting the stairs "Not you." Cas still staring at me waiting fr clarity, I confess "I...I fucking hate Angel's." Humourless laughter falling from my lips, I pick at the wooden grain "I hate what they did to my family. My lineage. Just because God decided humanity was a worthless cause my bloodline was rendered expendable."
"Not to defend my brothers and sisters" Cas voices after a long quiet moment "But they had just been following orders."
Pursing my lips, I lift my gaze "Sometimes Cas being complicit is just as wrong as the act itself."