{ one }
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omni stantanica potestas-"
"You think it'll be that easy, sweetheart?"
Tatum's eyes flashed with anger, flawless Latin pouring from her mouth. She walked in a circle around a spray painted ring, no book in hand. She didn't need a prompt for an exorcism, every word memorized by heart.
A blonde's head twitched, bloodied and bound to a chair within the devil's trap. "Come on, kid. I wouldn't lie to you."
Seventeen year old Tatum ignored the woman's accented voice, continuing her exorcism. Words of a dead language left her busted lips gracefully.
"He's dead."
Tatum shut her eyes, repeating the Latin phrase until her focus was no longer on the lies of the demon.
"Listen to me," she growled at Tatum with eyes suddenly as dark as night. "You don't get it, kid. You can't get a location out of me, not one that's above ground."
"You're lying!" Tatum shouted, breaking the exorcism. She leaned in close, her teeth gritted. "Tell me where he is."
"Oh honey, he's having fun way down south." The blonde quaked with laughter, "Your daddy's dead, babycakes."
| | | | |
Tatum lurched awake from her deep sleep, the bed squeaking beneath her. Only the sound of her racing heart reached her ears, panic bouncing through her violently.
The brunette ran a hand through her newly shortened hair, calming as she took in the dark surroundings of her motel room. She mumbled a swear to herself, pulling back the itchy sheets from her bare legs.
Light swelled the room as the lamp was turned on, the western themed room oddly comforting to her.
Tatum walked barefoot across the carpet, sitting down at the simplistic table harboring a duffle bag. She leafed through the Army green canvas and removed a roll of leather and a granite rock.
When the leather was rolled out on the oak, a dozen daggers were revealed at the hilt.
Tatum sat with her legs folded, pulling the first dagger free and sliding it along the granite.
She felt at peace for a moment, but only a moment.
That was all she ever got.
Tatum picked up her cell as it rang, it one of the three she had. With slightly furrowed eyebrows, she answered. "Bobby?"
"Hey kid," a gruff voice greeted on the other end of the line. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Apparently neither can you," Tatum replied with a soft smile. She pinched her phone between her shoulder and ear, continuing to sharpen her ring daggers. "Don't get me wrong, Bobby, you're always welcome to call, but why now? I'm only over in Wyoming, our time isn't much different."
"I know it's late," Bobby began, "but I just wanted to check on you."
Tatum softly smiled, "I'm doing fine, I promise."
"Are you sure? There's been some crazy stuff going on lately."
"Anything to do with the new quote unquote God?" Tatum asked with almost a laugh.
Bobby smiled, but not enough for the impression to transfer through the line. "No, that's taken care of. There is something coming, though."
Tatum's hand stopped moving, the hunter narrowing her eyes slightly. "Bobby?"
"I don't know if I can explain it all, but I just wanted to give you a heads up. Have you noticed any black water?"
Hesitating, Tatum said, "How'd you know?"
"Don't touch it or drink it, whatever you do," Bobby advised. "It ain't good, that's for sure."
"It was weeks ago," Tatum told him. "I thought it was just the dive I was staying in."
"It was something a whole lot worse, sweetheart."
"Bobby," said Tatum cautiously, "what's going on?"
The man hesitated on the other end of the line, "Are you working a case right now? How about you come see me? I can explain what I know to you."
"I've got a werewolf at FE Warren but I don't imagine it'll take too long," Tatum replied.
"Make your way to Souix Falls when you can and I'll fill you in."
"Sounds good," she agreed. "I'll be there when I can."
"Stay safe."
Tatum smiled, "You too, old man."
Bobby grumbled but with a mild smile, "Get some sleep."
Smiling as she said goodnight, Tatum hung up the call. "This can't be good," she remarked as she set her phone down next to her knives.
If Bobby was calling her, something really had to be wrong.
Tatum rolled her daggers back up carefully, putting it away in the small artillery she'd brought into the motel room. She stretched as she crossed back to her bed, settling the best she could on the scratchy sheets.
She needed all the sleep she could get.
She had a werewolf to kill.
||||
"I hate witches."
Sam glanced over to his brother, Dean driving the Impala on an open road at sundown. "You say that every time we deal with witches."
"Yeah, and they suck every time," Dean retorted as he kept his hands on the wheel.
"Well, it's over," said Sam as he leafed through a case file that rested on his lap.
"That bitch still tried to kill us," Dean snapped.
Sam rolled his eyes, the two driving away from Sioux Falls. They'd brought Bobby a present; a living, breathing Leviathan to experiment on.
They still had no clue how to kill the biblical monsters, and they were running out of time.
"They're just so nasty," Dean announced to no one that really cared. "I don't know what's worse, the old or new age shit. It's all baby bones and cat skulls. It's disgusting."
"Are they really as bad as anything else we've faced? Rougarous, wendigos-"
"Yes, Sam, they're the worst," Dean interrupted.
"At least we know how to kill them."
Dean sent Sam a soft glare, "Bobby's working on it."
"Who says there's even a way to kill them?" Sam quickly asked. "Even God wanted them gone, but he didn't kill them. He put them in Purgatory yet he never wanted the Leviathans out. Who says he didn't lock them away because he couldn't actually kill them, huh?"
"Everything can be killed, okay?" Dean drove on, occasionally looking over at his little brother. "If God can be killed, so can all his creation."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Sam, just give Bobby a chance to figure something out. A weakness - anything. We have nothing on these bastards and if it stays like that, we're dead in the water." He hesitated, recalling the way Cas had chosen to unleash the leviathans.
Sam bit the inside of his cheek, taking a soft breath. "Speaking of, we should stop at the next gas station."
"Dehydrate or rehydrate?"
Sam checked his phone, "Both." He scrolled along absently, no new messages or voice mails on his cell. "Where are we stopping tonight?"
"Cheyenne's halfway to the nest so right around there should be a good stop." Dean looked over to Sam, "Can you hold it for 10? We're almost there."
"Yeah, that's fine," Sam sighed while running a hand through his hair. He put his phone back into his brown jacket pocket before reopening the case file he'd put together when they caught wind of the case. "Let's recap."
"A family home broken into in the middle of the night, everyone wounded, teenage daughter kidnapped then found a week later with the blood drained from her. Two more similar cases within the past week."
"Exactly," Sam put in, "which warrants vamp activity."
"Survivors?"
"Eight survivors but only one little boy woke up during it. Officials didn't take his word since he claimed it was a, wait for it, vampire."
"They never listen to the kids," Dean said.
"Nobody wants to believe the things that go bump in the night are more than just scary stories." Sam shut the file as they pulled up to the motel next door to the gas station.
"I'll grab a room, you grab some provisions," Dean told him as he started to walk towards the one floor building. "Don't forget my pie."
Sam was going to forget the pie.
The shell doorbell rang overhead as Sam entered the building. People wise, he was the only non-employee. He nodded to the man at the counter, walking back towards the food and drinks. He opened the farthest cooler, not paying attention until the door was wide open.
All the water was gone.
"Don't worry, I'm coming to the rescue."
Sam looked through the empty shelves, a worker in a red polo behind the cooler with a mass of water bottles.
"Just got 'em in from the plant today."
Sam hesitated, looking to the water as the man started restocking.
Black swirls, flitting in the water for only a moment before disappearing.
"Uh, I actually changed my mind," Sam mildly said as he backed up from the cooler. He cleared his throat slightly, only grabbing a few snacks and, while forgetting the pie, picked up a water filter and an empty canteen.
The cashier gave Sam a look, ringing up the items. "This it?"
"Yeah," Sam ignored the slightly judgmental look as he fished out some cash, "that's all." He thanked him once he received his change, taking his bag out the door with him. "Dean," he called as he came up to the Impala, "we've got a problem."
Dean shut the trunk of his prized car, a duffel bag in each hand and a room key dangling from his middle finger. "Are they out of pie?"
"No, I - that's not it. It's the water. They just got cases in and they were black."
Dean lifted his eyebrows, "Black?"
"Leviathan black, Dean. Now they're everywhere." Sam followed his brother into their motel room, "Bottled, public, they've probably gotten all across the country."
"So what do we do?" questioned Dean as he set a bag on either of the two beds. "What's not affected? Water is kinda important, y'know."
"A stream, maybe?" Sam pulled out the canteen filter system, "There was one on the way in I think. I've got enough light to find it."
"Want me to come with?" Dean asked as he took the bag from Sam and leafed through the food. "Dude, you forgot my damn pie again."
"Forget the pie, Dean. We've got bigger problems." Sam double checked that he had his gun on him before moving towards the door. "I've got my phone on me if you need anything."
Dean grumbled, still bitter about his pie. "Forget the pie, my ass."
Sam rolled his eyes, shutting the door between the two of them. He sighed, making his way across the street. He listened to the sound of running water, following it through a wall of trees.
Water rushed along the hilly terrain of the evergreen forest. Clean, clear water.
"Perfect," said Sam as he began to uncap the canteen. He kneeled down next to the upflowing stream, holding the container down in the water.
He really hoped having to get water out in the woods wasn't going to become a permanent thing.
Sam finally stood, capping the canteen and running a palm along his jeans to dry it off. The leaves ruffled over his head, the near giant making his way back out of the woods.
The sun had gone below the horizon, the moon visible in the navy sky.
Sam checked his phone, Bobby's name flashing on the screen like clockwork. "Hey Bobby. What's going on?"
"I just wanted to let you know that if you're in the Cheyenne area, there's another-"
Tires screeched violently, a flash of lights crossing the Winchester's face.
"Sam? Sam?"
A woman jumped out of a cherry red car, running around the front. "I didn't see you, I'm so sorry."
Sam was on the ground, barely having realized he'd been tapped by the front bumper of a car and had gone off balance enough to fall over. He blinked, sitting up with the help of a warm hand.
"Are you okay? I tried to stop sooner-"
"Why are you bleeding?" Sam asked over the girl's words. She squinted a little, the headlights seeming the shadow the brunette.
"Oh," she touched her forehead absently without much care, "don't worry about it. Can you stand?"
Sam still couldn't see her face but liked the sound of her voice. "Yeah, yeah." He accepted her hand, letting her help him up from the ground. He was surprised by her strength, blinking in the features of the woman in front of him.
Hazel eyes, dark hair, a fair complexion with cheekbones for days. Even the cut along her forehead did nothing to stop her beauty.
"Can I drive you somewhere?" she asked, having to repeat herself when he didn't answer.
"Uh..." Sam looked around, the motel missing from across the street. "I thought - the motel."
"The Rodeo Motel?" she asked as she tucked a wave of hair behind her ear. "It's just down the road. I can take you."
"No, I don't want to be any trouble." Sam's knuckles had a little road burn, picking up his shattered phone from the ground.
"I hit you with my car," she said. "It's no trouble, I swear. It's like, two minutes."
Sam hesitated, still feeling slightly off balance. "Are you sure?"
"Positive," the girl assured, not much younger than him. "I'm staying there too. Sheets are really scratchy, by the way."
"I'm used to it," Sam told her. "I've stayed in enough dives for it to not bother me."
She opened the driver's door as he did the passenger's, "Me too." Climbing into her car, she shifted a few things before Sam could sit down. "What were you doing out in the woods, anyway?"
Sam no longer had the canteen, unsure of where it had gone. "Getting some water."
Without questioning it, she reached into the backseat and pulled free a water bottle. "Here."
Sam took it once she started to drive, giving it a once over first. "Thanks." He motioned to her head, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"It's nothing," she told him. "I've had a lot worse, trust me."
Uncapping the water, Sam gave the mystery girl a look. "Oh, really?"
She lightly laughed, it almost like music to Sam's ears. "A lot worse, yeah." She pulled into the parking lot of the motel, stopping the car but not making a move to get out. She glanced up at the moon before turning her gaze to Sam. "No concussion, right? No memory loss? Blurry lines in your vision?"
Sam shook his head, lightly smiling. "No, none of that." He mimicked the girl without meaning to, glancing to the moon. "You should probably go inside. It's a full moon out."
She grinned, "I was just about to say the same thing to you."
Sam got halfway out off the car before turning to the girl. He hadn't even noticed the pentagram carved into the glove box. "Who are you?"
"Tatum."