In The Mouth Of The Rat
By: Tidia, December 2007
Disclaimer:
Supernatural is owned by Kripke. Thank you to Ridley C. James for
creating The Brotherhood Universe
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Chapter 8/9
Jim felt old. Normally, around the younger hunters he felt the
exuberance of youth, still twenty-five in his mind. But, seeing Dean
shuffle to the bathroom and move so slowly gave him pause.
The pastor gave the so-called younger hunter privacy. He went through
the closets, noticing the owner of the home was a smaller man. He found
a pair of sweat pants, a matching shirt and left it outside the
bathroom door for Dean.
There was a radio inside the luxurious bathroom. Jim made sure it was
on. He had a theory, Caleb's mission would more than likely confirm it.
Reaves was resting, Jim ordering him to his room since he looked like
he was bordering on collapse. Although it was night, Caleb wouldn't be
doing his investigation until much later.
He was angry at John for his sink or swim attitude to this hunt. He
wished he hadn't promised the boys he would remain silent because it
would be a perfect time for him to question The Knight about his ill
attitude of late. The Brotherhood was losing John Winchester to his
vengeful demon obsession.
Jim heard the shower shut off. "There are clothes outside the door," he
announced.
The door opened a crack; Dean's aged hand slipped through and pulled
the clothing inside with him.
Jim waited, looking outside the window to the scenic view beyond. There
was an inky darkness, but the ocean was still distinct, the sound
calming. At least to him.
Dean exited the bathroom, his body fully covered. The clothes fit
better than the ones he had previously been wearing. His white, wispy
hair was combed back neatly, still damp.
"I remembered the name of the condo complex. I took a run by it the
other day. It's called The Fountain." Dean tried to take a normal
stride forward, but quickly shortened its length.
Jim was about to offer a hand to the other hunter but decided against
it. He saw the look of determination on Dean's face—he would manage.
Dean hated to show weakness.
In the meantime, Jim called information and got the phone number for
The Fountain's main office. He was connected to the security guard on
desk duty who supplied Airlea's last name of Eliopolus and her unit
number, 8A. He had told the guard he was a suitor wanting to arrange
floral delivery.
"You lie with the best of them, Jim," Dean said, standing against the
nearby bureau.
"It is an unfortunate need of the position. But, I try to do so
sparingly."
"I won't tell." Dean pulled his shoulders back, trying to rid himself
of his spine curvature. "I want to stay in this hunt."
Jim realized Dean didn't want to be left behind. His mother, Sam and
occasionally his own father had gone away, leaving him alone. Jim
reached out to Dean, lightly squeezed his shoulder, recognizing that
Dean's body would bruise easily in its current state. "You just helped
Caleb, and I'm sure more of your help will be needed before this is
over."
"'cause I'm not useless, Jim. I know what it looks like."
The pastor kept his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I never said that, nor
has it ever been insinuated that in the past or present." He worried
about Dean's lack of self esteem. He wondered if he had even encouraged
it in a way. Being broken made them all better hunters, or a damage
psyche may have been a necessity to perform the job. He hoped there
would not be any repercussions. "Since you proved to me you can be
mobile, I suggest some time away from this room."
Dean looked down, then back up with a quick nod.
They ambled down the hallway, past Caleb's room. The door was closed.
"Caleb's had a rough time of it. He did good though, I'm the one that
screwed up." Dean said as they passed the door.
Jim hoped the other hunter was sleeping. "When will you boys realize
that I am not looking for someone to blame. It really doesn’t matter."
John Winchester had trained them to be accountable.
As soon as they were downstairs, Jim found another radio, setting it to
the same station. He wished Dean liked softer music. "I don't know why
you never cultivated an ear for classical music."
"Sorry, Jim, but Dad. . .surprised Sammy never …whatever." Dean waved a
hand in front of his face.
Mackland and Jim decided to be tender footed around Dean when it came
to Sam. There were fissures in Dean's heart. His heart was his greatest
strength and weakness. With his strength, Dean managed since if Sam was
happy and safe then Dean was happy. From all reports Sam was happy. His
weakness, talking about Sam reminded him that his little brother was
distant.
"Sam didn’t have a connection to music like you, Dean. Although I
remember a time when he kept singing a song when he was about 5. . ."
It felt strange recalling the memory since Sam was in contact with no
one, shunning them all. It should have been expected. They all
encouraged Sam's inquisitive nature and the side effects were
willfulness and independence. Mackland pushed all the young hunters to
pursue a college education, to do both-hunt and retain some normalcy.
But, Sam only wanted one focus- the normalcy of Stanford University.
"Kokomo by The Beach Boys, and blame Caleb for that one." Dean cleared
his throat. "I think I'm kinda hungry."
Dean had diverted the conversation; Jim studied him for a moment. The
pastor had learned through interfamily communication that Dean had been
accepted to Louisiana State University on a baseball scholarship. Dean
had never spoken of it, but Jim knew what Dean had based his decision
on. Dean could go to school and hunt. Dean could not take care of Sam,
John, hunt and go to school. Sam was a full-time job.
Jim wondered on many occasions what would happen if Sam didn't return
to them. Jim had formed a Triad, Sam was a crucial part. He hoped when
the time came Sam answered the call.
The call to The Brotherhood couldn't be ignored.
The silver ring was still on Dean's finger, a little loose, but it
remained. Dean was steadfast, loyal, and looking at Jim with gratitude.
"Thanks for putting up with us, Jim. You know you're like a father to
us. Sounds funny saying that when I look like this."
Jim struggled for words. He had unconditional love for these boys. No
matter what they did, he would love them, forgive them. His Emma would
have been proud. "How about some scrambled eggs?"
"Sounds good." Dean took a seat at the kitchen table. "Jim, if anything
goes wrong and I have to stay like this. . ."
"That won't happen, Dean," Jim replied with conviction. They couldn't
lose Dean. He had scared them all in New York City, coming across a
curse which infiltrated his mind. The pastor had found the solution
then, he would find it now.
"But if it does. Forget about me. I mean it, Jim. Tell Dad I'm gone."
Dean's eyes were cast downward.
"No. Ask me anything, Dean, but not that." Jim sighed, composed
himself. With unconditional love for these boys came heartbreak,
stunning moments of sacrifice, which scared him. "I just said I lie
only when needed. This is not the case here. You'll be fine." He waited
until Dean looked at him, and then gave him a quick nod.
There was no mention of Dean's suicide insinuation of earlier as they
shared a meal, discussing recent hunts.
Jim was cleaning the kitchen when Caleb came down the stairs.
"Do you need help to bring him to bed?" Caleb said in a soft voice as
he stood over the couch. He looked rested.
"No, he's fine where he is." Jim said folding the towel he was using to
dry the dishes.
"He remembered the name of the complex, The Fountain, she's in unit
number 8A. I expect by now Airlea is at work?"
Caleb spared a quick look at his watch. "Yeah, she should be at The
Dollhouse."
"Very well." Jim said with a smile. "Be careful, and I expect you back
shortly." The pastor had just given his blessing to a felony crime. His
position as Guardian did have some strange moments.
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Caleb found an unsecured entrance on the first floor above the lobby,
then made his way up the stairs to the eighth floor. There were no
security cameras in the stairwell, as long as he avoided the rent-a-cop
in the lobby and the elevator, then it would all go well.
He made it to the apartment, knocked first just in case, and received
no answer. He made quick work of the simple lock, walked in, keeping
the lights off. They weren't needed. Off the kitchen was the living and
dining rooms. There was a soft blue glow. In one corner was a water
feature, a soothing large fountain, a blue light arranged so it bounced
off of the water and emanated throughout the room. Against another wall
was a large fish tank, illuminated by a light inside the tank radiating
a blue hue.
It was restful, slightly lulling. Caleb shook his head. He had a
mission to complete.
The condominium had three bedrooms, two baths. There was evidence of
three separate people living in the unit. He rifled through the draws,
getting the idea from the wardrobe- Airlea had the master bedroom,
another bedroom seemed to belong to Eleni. The occupant of the third
bedroom was a mystery, but it was definitely a female inhabitant.
He noted the clothes all had a similar scent of salt water. He returned
to the living room, noticing the personal photographs scattered on the
two end tables, flanking the sofa. He picked up one of them- a photo of
three women-Airlea, Eleni and a recognizable third women he had met at
The Dollhouse.
"Son of a bitch."
It was the women he had described as the dominatrix. In the light of
the picture he could see her long brown hair and gray eyes.
He looked at the other photos, the three women, each taken at some sort
of beach location. He slipped one of the framed photos into the
messenger bag slung across his body.
He had a feeling he knew the name of the mysterious third woman.
Diana.
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Dean heard the murmurings of conversation, and stirred awake. He was on
the couch, hadn't remembered falling asleep. It sucked getting old,
especially when it was suddenly. He tried not to be upset with Jim for
nixing his instant retirement idea. He thought he was being brave and
taking care of his problem. But, Dean had seen that strange glint in
the pastor's eyes. There would be no argument. Dean had to have faith
in Jim and Caleb. He turned to the voices, waiting for his poorer
vision to come into focus. "Hey, you're back. How did it go?" Caleb was
relaxing in the kitchen with Jim.
"I got a parting gift." Reaves held up a frame.
Dean took it as a prompt he should move from the couch. It took a
moment to get some leverage, but he made it to standing without
assistance.
The two hunters waited patiently for him to reach the kitchen. Dean
accepted the picture frame, narrowed his eyes. "She looks familiar."
"I was just telling Jim about her." Caleb took the picture back, and
placed it on the table. "Jason, one of our victims, said Diana had long
brown hair and gray eyes. Description matches this photo. I know The
Dollhouse is dark, but this is definitely the woman who guards the
entrance by the curtain. Except she wears more leather at the club."
Dean nodded, recalling the leather clad woman. She had slightly scared
him in a thrilling way. "We can call Jason and have him confirm it."
"Sounds good," Caleb added.
Dean felt at least he was being productive, contributing to the hunt.
"So Jim what do you think? What's going on? Succubi?"
Jim shook his head. "I know you boys believed you were dealing with a
succubus but boys, succubus are solo creatures. They don't hunt in
groups. You aren't dealing with a succubus."
"Explains why the plural of succubus is so weird," Dean commented,
receiving a smirk from Caleb.
"So what else can suck the life out of a man?" Reaves asked, which was
Dean's next question. He thought they had figured it out. But, on the
other hand, his state was the reason they needed to call Jim. It hadn't
been all that simple.
Jim paused, creating a theatrical moment. "Sirens-sophisticated ones at
that."
"Huh? Like mermaids?" Caleb scratched the back of his neck.
"Where are the fins? Why are they on land?" Dean asked, trying to think
of any knowledge he had about mermaids. It was limited to Disney, Hans
Christian Andersen and porn.
Jim had a book on the table. Dean read the spine, The Odyssey. "I
borrowed this from the library upstairs." The pastor flipped through
the pages, and handed it to Caleb.
Reaves cleared his throat and began to read where Murphy pointed.
"'So far so good,' said she, when I had ended my story, 'and now pay
attention to what I am about to tell you- heaven itself, indeed, will
recall it to your recollection. First you will come to the Sirens who
enchant all who come near them. If any one unwarily draws in too close
and hears the singing of the Sirens, his wife and children will never
welcome him home again, for they sit in a green field and warble him to
death with the sweetness of their song. There is a great heap of dead
men's bones lying all around, with the flesh still rotting off them.
Therefore pass these Sirens by, and stop your men's ears with wax that
none of them may hear; but if you like you can listen yourself, for you
may get the men to bind you as you stand upright on a cross-piece half
way up the mast, and they must lash the rope's ends to the mast itself,
that you may have the pleasure of listening. If you beg and pray the
men to unloose you, then they must bind you faster."
"You two are not tying me up." Dean straightened up in the chair, ready
to fight the two hunters off if need be.
"Wait, the sirens use music. The radio has been helping Deuce." Caleb
commented, looking at the Pastor. Dean was curious too.
"There are two stories of men resisting the sounds of the sirens. In
the Odyssey, the ship passed through by plugging their ears with wax.
One of the sirens, Parthenope, in grief at the escape of Ulysses
drowned herself. The other is Jason and the Argonauts were saved
because they had Orpheus, a musician, on board with them. He played
music that was even more beautiful so the men hardly heard the sound of
the Sirens." Jim gestured to the radio, which remained on.
"Led Zeppelin rules!" Dean waived a hand in the air, getting his arm
only halfway up before a burning ache made him bring it back down.
"From what you described, I think whatever music they are using at the
club is an element." Jim rubbed his chin. "But, I will say you boys do
find yourself in the thick of it. I would never think sirens would use
the internet to get their prey."
"And what about Airlea calling out to Dean?"
"A side effect of the process. Since Jason didn't mention it then I
assume the effect disappears over time."
"Well you know Jim we relish a challenge." Caleb put out his fist to
Dean, who gave it a slight tap with his own. "So why do I get sick at
The Dollhouse?"
Jim took the book back, and placed a hand over the cover. "I gave that
some thought, and without contacting your father, I believe it is your
psychic ability interfering with the sound they are emitting."
"We can't tell Mac," Caleb stated.
Dean knew Jim would keep their secret, understood Caleb's nervousness.
At times Mackland could be overprotective. "So sirens, they are near
the ocean, but don't they live in the water? How are they on land?"
"There is the legend that Demeter, the goddess of harvest and
fertility, turned the water sirens into the half-woman, half-bird
creatures when the three failed to save Demeter's daughter, Persephone
from being kidnapped by Hades." Jim explained.
"So they can change their form."
Dean followed Caleb's line of thinking. They were getting a crash
course in sirens, learning the fairytales of attractive women with
fishtails wearing shell bras wasn't necessarily true. "Maybe they just
need access to the water."
"And they have that." Caleb's eyes flicked up to the ocean view seen
through the sliding glass doors.
"And you know this off the top of your head," Dean remarked, truly in
awe of the pastor's knowledge.
Jim folded his hands. "Boys, I am The Guardian."
"And the question is do you know how to destroy them and bring me back
to my oh so charming and young self?" Dean asked because it was
priority. The information about the sirens was only helpful if it
rectified his situation.
"But of course," Jim answered with a smile.
"And that's why he's paid the big bucks." Dean gestured to Jim as he
grinned at Caleb.
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