We have a saying in the Marine Corps and that is 'no better friend, no worse enemy, than a U.S. Marine.' We always hope for the first, friendship, but are certainly more than ready for the second.
John F. Kelly
Rossi entered the hospital hesitantly, he wasn't sure how he was going to approach this case if you could even call it that. Morgan and Reid came up with the idea of him getting to know Belle, why? They decided that if she was raised as a soldier who better to speak to her than ex-marine?
He stood outside the room a 'care package' as Penelope had excitedly told him was balanced in his hands. An assortment of sweets, plushes, and toiletries wrapped delicately inside. Stiffly he knocks on the door frame not wanting to walk in without permission.
A silvery tone answered him carefully as a figure he'd recognized from a screen appears in front of him. "Can I help you?"
The elder man was taken aback, the young girl looked much better her freckled cheeks showing a rosier tint as a good sign of health. The cold eyes he'd come to associate with her had an ember of light flickering inside the greening depths. It seemed her jade eyes were slowly taking on an apple green tone. Her short stature had taken a defensive position, her body was rigid and ready for a fight as she awaited his answer.
"Hello, I'm Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi..." he trialed slightly as her eyebrow raised.
"Identification."
David stared surprised letting out a befuddled, "What?"
"Your badge, let me see it." She extended an impatient hand as Rossi quickly got his identification out. Belle scanned over it quickly before handing it back to him, nodding in confirmation. "Allora, Rossi, è Italiano?" She made her way back to her bed as he followed her. "Spero proprio di sì o si può pensare che sono pazzo, ben più di quello che fai già."
A joyful laugh rose to his chest having a slight dumbfounded ring."Come conoscete l'italiano?" He asked taking a seat.
"Il mio nome è Belle per un motivo." She answered folding her hands in her lap.
"You are full of surprises Miss Winchester."
"Is that good or bad?" She quirked snarkily.
"We'll find out, this is for you by the way. Our co-worker Penelope made it herself." He handed over the gift and settled in, used to the toughness of these chairs.
Belle looked at it placing it to her side as the pair sat in silence. "So, Vietnam? Also, how does a Marine end up becoming an author?" She asked out of nowhere
"How did you know I served in Vietnam and that I was a Marine?" He jerked forward slightly in confusion. "Am I that readable?"
Her eyes trained on him expertly. "Your haircut while quite lax still follows military grade quirks, sideburns cut before the first small of the ear, the sides barely away from your scalp," She hummed slightly continuing on. " Your stature as you walked in was a tell also, your eyes surveyed the room looking for threats and exits. That and your ring." She motioned for his hand to be placed above hers, not touching. "The black onyx was limited towards those serving in Vietnam, many use black agate as a substitute but it has more of a greenish glow." Her hand ghosted over his as she continues. "Black onyx is very limited towards Naval and Marine use, seeing as it pertains to self-control, decision-making, intuition, and protection." All Rossi could do was stare at her as her finger circled the motto on the outer edges of his ring. "Mors est in Tenebris," She spoke in perfect Latin. "Death in the Dark." She nodded. "It was a Marine motto in the Vietnam era, the third battalion I believe. Nicknamed Shadow Warriors." Delicately she moved his hand back using his sleeve.
"That was very impressive," Rossi managed out after a minute of sitting in shock. her mannerisms holding light to Sherlock Holmes a character up until now, he believed lived only in a fantasy world.
"Now." She sighed a far sheen veiling her eyes, "What questions do you wish to ask me? I'd rather not make pleasantries with someone only here to rip sensitive questions about my shitty childhood."
The older man had the decency to feel guilty before delving into a few questions more about her than her past. "How many languages do you speak?"
Her eyebrow quirked but she didn't comment on the shift of attention from the agent. "A few. I know English, Latin, Italian, Polish and a bit of French although I'm rusty in Polish."
Could she be more impressive? She was full of twists and turn and it took a lot for David to keep up. "What grade are you in?"
"Uhhh, I don't know... last time I went to a school was sixth grade I think or was it fifth..." She trailed lightly, shrugging at the end. "I hated it anyway. New school every month filled with pubescent and idiotic children."
This continued on for an hour, asking trivial things about her life growing up. In which he'd usually get a snarky response and sarcastic snip before his answer was given. This was until he got in depth about her life. "How did you find your father? Why?" She stopped staring at him before a smile appeared on her face, it wasn't real it was bitter and hate-filled.
"Well when I was young, four, my mother died. Well, I say died, she was murdered and we had a plan for that. So I talked to the cops and got the hell outta dodge. With a backpack filled with let's say two hundred I went off and lived with a family friend for a year. When I was five they put me out and had to track down dear ol' dad. I found him and my grandfather at a small inn in Georgia after searching for a few months, hopping bus to bus and sleeping in random places. Let's just say it wasn't the best of times for a kid. After I convinced the guy I was his kid I stayed with him till he died."
Rossi nodded watching her antics seeing she hadn't lied that entire time. "We're going to get into some more sensitive subjects. Is that all right?"
"I don't have much of a say now do I? Hurry up before nurse A comes in and kicks your Italian ass out. She isn't as nice as I am." Belle flashed him her teeth as she awaited his drilling.
"I'm told by the doctors who performed surgery on you, you have multiple tattoos, is that correct?"
"Yeah, I have two."She looked at him carefully.
"Can you tell me what they mean? I have the pictures of them." He asked looking at the file that held the images. This happened so they could use the pictures of her injuries in the court.
"Creep, but I guess so. Give me the pictures." She held her hand out and received the glossed sheets. "Okay so this one all the Winchester's get, basically it is a protection symbol and kind of a crest."
Her fingers trailed over the next one a smile on her face. "This was my second one. The writing is Enochian and its an angel claim."
"An angel's claim?" He echoed. He could semi understand the protection symbol, but an angel's claim?
"Yeah." She snapped her demeanor changing completely, now turning defensive.
Rossi found himself backpedaling once again. "I was just confused, there isn't anything wrong with that-" He was cut off by the girl.
"I know there isn't. " Belle stated firmly. Before the argument could sizzle a Nurse came in to administer her medicine and Rossi was pushed from the room.
Standing in the busying hallway the veteran made his way to the station where his team awaited his updates.
When he entered the meeting room his colleagues sat over piles of take-out laughing as they passed the time. Each in a different stage of amusement their favourite tech-analysist broadcasted on the wall. Basking in the merriment David felt the hang of dread evaporate, dispersing in the glow of happiness.
His moment of warmth was taken when his old friend and boss called upon his attention. "David, any news on Miss Winchester?" The team fell silent as eyes snapped to his figure, waiting in hopes of a connection.
He took a seat with a heavy-heart, reluctant to disappoint them. "Sorry, not much, I did find some interesting things out though." Everyone waited, almost an impatient buzz whirling in the air. "She is more intelligent than we thought."
Reid perked up, sliding his glasses up with his middle finger he did a small movement of excitement. "What do you mean?"
"She can deduct like Sherlock and speak five languages other than English, including Latin." He quirked a graying eyebrow as he swirled his chair watching as shock sheened over the faces of those in the room.
"Did you know, Conan Doyle repeatedly said that Holmes was inspired by the real-life figure of Joseph Bell, a surgeon at the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh? Conan Doyle met him in 1877 and had worked for as a clerk. Like Holmes, Bell was noted for drawing broad conclusions from minute observations." Reid raddled trying to add insight into the character. "The art of deduction is a true skill that even some of our classes were modeled after."
JJ stared at him before running a hand through her silky blonde locks. "If the FBI teaches it, how did a sixteen-year-old somehow perfect it to Sherlock levels." She asked her hands falling to the table. "Did she teach herself?"
Prentiss' lips pinched to the side as she went over the facts. "So she can speak multiple languages, can deduct at rapid pace, and some-how tracked her father down when she was four? Is that even possible?"
"Six." Rossi corrected, "She stayed with a family friend until she was five and found her father when she was about six."
"Still, that is like, crazy smart!" Penelope yelped from the screen, speaking for the first time.
Meanwhile Hotch sat silently, soaking up as much information he could whilst he watched the mannerisms of the team. 'What about the tattoos?" His orotund tone rang.
"She has two, a protection symbol and a passage in enochian."
"Enochian?" Reid echoed his fingers twiddling in the air. "The language of angels?"
The italian man nodded. "Her family doesn't seem highly religious but this could be connected to something of the occult. Sam and Dean had the same symbol on their chest as Belle does. It could be initiation."
"So you mean to tell me she was born into a cult?" Came Penelope's panicked reply causing Derek to hush her lightly.
"That makes sense but why the Angel writing?" Rossi's eyes trained on the usual talkative male.
"She said it was an angel's claim." Confused gazes shot to him as he shrugged. Suddenly Derek hopped up.
"The brand!" He yelled.
"What brand?" Hotch queried.
"When I met her, the top of her gown rid down and showed the tip of a brand. It looked like a wing."
"Guys I think I know what he's talking about..." Garcia gulped lightly. "The doctors took a picture of it." A tear slipped down her cheek as she pulled up the picture.
"Holy hell," Derek whispered, his heart filling with grief, the warmth the room had once felt draining.
Life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and leading to the most outre results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable
Arthur Conan Doyle
Hey guys so that's what Belle's brand looks like, I know I know, It's on a man but just imagine it on her...it's the best I could find :/ For clarifications the brand on Belle is a tad bit smaller and stops a bit higher up.
Are you guys enjoying this? lemme know
Tah Tah luvs