Fic: My Brothers' Keepers - Part Four
Apr. 26th, 2009 01:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
brighteyedjillTitle: My Brothers' Keepers - Part Four
Authors:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jaune_chat and brighteyed_jill
Art: byxkelorosiamano is at her graphics community.
Pairings: Every combination of Nathan and Peter Petrelli and Sam and Dean Winchester
Rating: NC-17
Warning: See Part One for full list
Spoilers: Supernatural--though 4x16. Heroes--vague ones for Season 2
Authors' notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sncross_bigbang. Beta and dusting by the talented and beautiful redandglenda
Summary: Sam and Dean discover demons have been possessing people with special abilities that have nothing to do with magic. Peter draws a future that reunites him and Nathan with the Winchester brothers. Together they find out that specials--people whose powers come from an unusual inherited gene-- are being targeted for possession by a woman who is on the verge of breaking one of the sixty-six seals.
Five miles outside of Lake End, Sam pulled the Impala over.
"Need to call Ruby?" Peter asked. Sam shook his head.
"Got that information yesterday," Sam said. "But we better get you in the trunk before someone spots you riding around."
--
"Three calls in three days. A girl might think you're in love, Sam," Ruby greeted him. Sam swallowed hard; it wasn't fair and it wasn't right and it was all sorts of wrong on so many levels what he was doing with Ruby, but he needed her. He would have died last summer without her help. And he couldn't cut her out of his life, no matter what Dean wanted.
"Do you know where any of the Lake End demons are? We're going in tomorrow," Sam asked.
"Oh yeah. They're like hot spots of light on the map. If more of us were around here, this place would be a free-for-all mosh pit. Just be lucky this Caroline likes her pleasures of the flesh; it keeps them all a little distracted."
"...What?"
"Never mind, you'll see. I know this one guy..."
--
"The guy's called Rourke. He hang around right outside of town. Maybe a fifteen minute drive. Are you going to be ok?" Sam asked as he weaved the ropes around Peter's hands as he perched on the back bumper. "It's going to get hot in there." Black car, hot day in the sunny South...
"I'll be fine," Peter said, flashing him a bit of a grin. Sam suddenly felt a brief riming of frost on Peter's hands.
"Ok, now you're just showing off," Sam muttered, and bent down to tighten the restraints on Peter's legs. From that angle, Sam couldn't help but notice Peter was subtly but definitely somewhat interested in how firmly he was tying the knots.
Peter noticed that too. "Uh... sorry. I'm weird like that."
Sam's lips twitched a few times, and he filed that thought away very deeply in his brain.
"You sure you're going to be fine?" he asked again.
"As much as I can be. I'm nervous as hell," Peter confessed.
"Maybe don't say that word. Just in case," Sam said. "Watch your head." With that, Sam gently pushed Peter into the trunk, trying to make sure he wasn't going to accidentally slide onto the knives or something.
"Man, we live weird lives," Peter commented as he wiggled amongst the armory to try to get himself comfortable.
"I know," Sam muttered, and then tied the gag around Peter's mouth.
+++++
It was long moments in suffocating darkness before the car stopped. Longer moments passed while Sam talked with some man. Only fragments of the conversation made their way to Peter's ears. It was too hot to concentrate enough on telepathy, too hot to do anything but maintain his frost, on healing, trying not to let himself die. That would be very hard to explain.
Finally Sam opened the trunk long enough for the man, Rourke, to get a good, long look at him. One crooked smile later, and the trunk slammed shut again. Longer minutes, or maybe hours went by. The Impala bounced down a rough gravel road, kicking up gravel that pinged against the underbelly of the car inches from Peter’s ear. A little later, the sounds of insects and frogs rang out loudly, and the Impala stopped.
Car doors slammed, and then a woman began to talk with Sam and Rourke. This time Peter heard her name. Caroline. Showtime, he thought, and schooled his face into the appropriately nervous expression... which actually didn't take any acting at all.
"I've brought you a token of my sincerity." Peter heard those words very clearly as Sam popped open the trunk of the Impala to reveal him, bound, gagged, and looking very pissed off. "I hear you've been collecting people with certain... abilities."
Caroline looked dubiously at Peter and then back at Sam. "And you think this man is one of them?"
Sam smiled, flashing his teeth. "This one's special. Trust me."
+++++
Sam kept staring at Caroline as she stood like a queen on the steps of the mansion, head inclined only slightly in respect. While he didn’t want to challenge her directly, he also didn’t want to appear to be too subservient. He had to sell himself in the role of Sam the Demon King, and kings did not bow.
He kept his attention on her, but was fiercely aware of the two possessed behind her, holding Peter up between them. One was a slender young woman with bright red hair that Caroline had called Tamara, the other, Rourke, was a shorter, heavily muscled black man with a shaved head and cruel expression on his face. Both of them held Peter in a death-grip, probably ready to snap his neck if he tried anything. Sam could feel the black smoke of the demons inside them, and kept himself ready. If everything fell apart here, if Caroline guessed their game, he could exorcise them on the spot and have Peter teleport them out...
Caroline accepted Sam's assessment of her with a shy smile, blinking slowly behind her glasses, and looked him over appreciatively in return. Despite the fact she looked like a college-age librarian, slender, short, with mousy-brown hair and glasses, she was giving off an aura of power that had Sam’s skin prickling. No normal human had ever made him feel that way; the closest comparison was Ruby, and then only when she was casting spells.
The scariest part about it was that Caroline wasn’t wearing a single charm or amulet Sam could see: no jewelry of any kind. So that meant what spells she was using on herself didn’t need a physical anchor. Ruby had been right; this was powerful spellwork of the most ancient order. She didn’t have the same feel as any of the other psychic kids; nothing about her was out of the ordinary except the electric hum of spells on Sam’s skin.
“I never expected royalty to want to visit me,” Caroline said softly. She stood two steps above Sam on the porch so she could look him in the eyes. “All I ever wanted were friends who would care for me and never leave me. I never thought that this could lead to more…”
She reached out and petted Rourke, and then Tamara on the head. They all but rubbed up against her legs and purred their devotion back to her.
Sam struggled to not let his jaw drop. Those two were definitely possessed, as possessed as Caroline wasn’t. Clear of any direct demonic influence, skin hardened with protective spells, Caroline had apparently secured the affection and loyalty, such as it was, from those she’d possessed.
That just didn’t happen. Either a demon wanted to be on their own, or loved company so much they’d call up their buddies to cheerfully possess as many as they could. The idea of a demon being willingly, honestly subservient to a human magician was unheard of. The idea that several demons had gotten the same notion at almost the same time was laughable.
Caroline had some real hold over them. And despite the nerdy exterior, that made her more dangerous than anything Sam might become.
“So I wonder why you, of all people, have come bearing gifts for me. Are you a Greek, Sam? Do you want to take away my friends with some trick you and your brother thought up?” Her tone of voice was mild, but the air around her crackled with power. Sam had the strong impression that if he tried to run now he’d die on the spot, either at the hand of one of the demons holding Peter, or from some spell she had ready.
“I’m not with Dean anymore,” Sam said, meeting her gaze squarely.
“I’ve heard about you, Sam. I’ve heard about the Winchesters, and what they do to people who are… different. I know you’ve done this all your life. So why would you suddenly give up everything you’ve known? Why did you have a change of heart?”
“Dean hates my powers. He hates everything I’m becoming, and he’s determined to save me from myself,” Sam said, holding his head high. None of that was a lie, but it still hurt to say it out loud.
“Do you think he might be right? That your powers, your demon blood, might cause you to become something you don’t want to be?” Caroline asked.
“I’m never going to figure that out if I keep getting shut down every time I try to use them. I can’t exactly go and purify my blood, now can I? I have it, and I can’t get rid of it. So I want to know everything about it. I want to learn how to use it, my way.”
Caroline smiled at that, an odd smile of camaraderie. Or maybe it wasn’t so odd. Ruby had claimed Caroline had access to some kind of ancient text, and she practically reeked of librarian clichés, so it wasn’t so strange to think that she would have some fellow-feeling towards someone who wanted knowledge. Not that Sam could afford to be complacent towards Caroline. Not when people had already died because of what she had done.
“And once you learn everything you can, what then? What do you want from me, Sam?”
“I want out. I’m tired of hunting, Caroline. I’m tired of busting my ass for less and less reward. I’m tired of the angels. I’m tired and mad that they turned Dean against me. I’m sick of Lilith trying to recruit me for her sick little power games or trying to put my head on a pike. I’m tired of everyone wanting a piece of me, to kill me or shut me down. I’m tired and I’m exhausted, and I’m alone,” Sam said, and heaved a heavy sigh. What he’d said was not even half a lie, and it was cathartic, in a strange way, to set that all out in the open.
“And what of your brother? It is said he went to hell to save you,” she said, sounding almost reverent. “It is said the bond between you was so strong that not even death could sever it. Why do you leave him now?”
“I’m twenty-six years old, and he’s all the family I have left. I didn’t want to leave him. I love him. But…” Sam took a deep breath. “He tried to kill me. He thought it was the only way to stop me. He betrayed me.”
The air around Caroline seemed to flex for a moment, and the sunlight took on a thin quality as she stared right through him. Sam figured she was trying to see the truth in his statement, and he concentrated on feeling betrayed; it was something depressingly easy to do, considering everything he’d been throttling down and holding back over the past few months. Dean hadn’t actually tried to kill him directly, but Sam was worried, more than worried, that some day he might try to hurt him.
“You poor thing,” Caroline said sadly, reaching out to touch his face. Her touch jolted through Sam like he’d just grabbed a live wire, and he gasped. “You want to be around people who won’t judge you for being different. People who will love you and won’t betray you, isn’t that right?”
For a second, Sam felt a genuine compulsion to bow his head to her, to kneel and accept what she was offering: acceptance, inclusion, family. Then he felt a burning in his blood, and brought his head up challengingly, the urge to submit broken.
“I want a place where I can belong,” he said firmly. Rourke and Tamara’s eyes widened in astonishment, while Caroline’s widened in delight.
“With you at my side, there’s so much more I can do here. There is much written about you.” That simple statement seemed to bring a light to her eyes, as if she’d just received a revelation from Heaven.
“Will you join with me willingly, Sam Winchester? Will you add your knowledge and power to mine, to make this place your true home?” she asked. Her tone was formal, as if she were making a pledge. No, she was making a pledge. The words weren’t quite spell-charged, but not far from it. Sam had to be careful how he accepted.
“What do you offer me?” he asked. The two possessed gasped at his audacity, but Caroline only nodded.
“Knowledge and a home. Inclusion within my friends, and all they have to offer,” she said, spreading her hands wide. “What do you offer me?”
“My power, working alongside you, to understand and learn,” Sam said, after the barest of hesitations that he hoped he had passed off as a dramatic pause.
“I accept you,” Caroline said, looking down at him imperiously, and Sam felt something ripple through him from head to toe. “Please, come in Sam.”
As Sam mounted the steps, he could see Peter was staring up at him through his bangs, looking at him as if he’d just sold his soul. Sam couldn’t do anything about it but ignore him for now. He’d just leapt into the lion’s den, and he couldn’t stop to reassure the gazelle he’d brought for the pride to feast upon.
Rourke and Tamara hauled Peter along as Sam followed Caroline into the depths of the old mansion. Inside there was a distinct smell of incense, overlaying the scent of sex. Gasps and groans sounded from somewhere deeper inside the building, and Sam was rapidly going from nervous to flat-out confused.
This was supposed to be a demon’s den, and Sam had been expecting blood, screams, torture, and mayhem. He’d been expecting more Dante’s Inferno than the Playboy Mansion. Every room he passed held cushions, lamps, and paintings, not arcane equipment, magic circles, torture racks, or anything else he would have considered “normal.” If normal could apply to anything about this situation.
Caroline led the little parade into a much smaller room filled with books, pillows, and candles. It looked like a cross between a library and a bordello. It was much cooler in here than the rest of the place, and the smell of incense had completely replaced the underlying stench of decaying vegetation and swamp water that had permeated the air outside. Caroline sat down cross-legged on a cushion, opened up a book, and settled it on her lap. Despite craning his neck slightly to see, Sam didn't recognize the language in which the book was written. The tome looked incredibly ancient.
"I've read about you, Sam Winchester. 'All of hell shall rise at his command. The demon blood prince will become a king in the new infernal order, and spread the power of the dark realms over all of the earth,'" she recited. The two possessed hanging onto Peter sighed at her voice, and began to chant something in a foreign tongue. Caroline joined them. She didn’t hesitate or stumble over the strange words, but chanted the brief sentences as if they were a prayer. The possesseds’ eyes briefly flipped to beetle-black as they went quiet, and Caroline looked up at Sam tentatively.
"That is the power you command, the power over hell itself. And that is what I will help you learn, if you will use the power you’ve been given to help me with my own rituals,” she said.
Sam nodded slowly. He was not entirely certain what she wanted from him, but he saw no way of refusing, not this deep into her lair.
“Tell me about yourself, Sam,” Caroline asked. “Please.”
“There seems to be a lot that’s already written,” Sam stated, trying to play to her, and Caroline smiled broadly.
“Yes, much can be found in the right books,” she said, and waved her hand at the pile of books and scrolls. Sam stared at them in dismay. All of them were in foreign tongues, in no easily identifiable order, and all of them looked easily old enough to be the culprit book or books that had given Caroline her powers. He and Peter had their work cut out for them…
“I already know a great deal about you,” Caroline continued. She seemed pleased that Sam had assumed she already knew most of what there was to know about him.
"Well?" Sam asked, spreading his hands. "What else do you want to know?"
"I have to be careful. I don't want anyone who’s going to draw attention. I only want people who will fit in here. And..." Caroline's voice dropped to a whisper. "I always wanted more friends like me. So... show me. How is he special?" She glanced over at Peter.
Sam turned to him. "Go on," he said forcefully. "Show the lady." Caroline's eyes glowed at the comment, like the school wallflower who had just been asked to dance by the star quarterback.
Peter glared up defiantly between his two captors, and Sam lunged in to take his jaw in a crushing grip. "You wanted this, so show her. Now," Sam growled with menace.
Peter played his part well, letting a faint flush show on his face before dropping his eyes respectfully. Then he shimmered out of view. Caroline, Rourke, and Tamara stared at the invisible Peter; Caroline actually reached out to make sure Peter was still there before breaking into a smile of approval.
Sam heaved an inaudible sigh of relief. Invisibility had been a gamble on their part. They hadn't wanted to show Caroline anything too strong, like electricity or teleportation, for fear she'd reject it as too dangerous. They didn't want to show her anything that imitated what demons could already do, like telekinesis or regeneration, to avoid suspicion. And powers like precognition and telepathy might have made her feel threatened. Peter said he had other powers, but invisibility was innocuous enough, and would make Sam look particularly clever for having captured him.
--
"No, Peter can go, like, totally invisible," Dean explained. "Not just that cloud-the-mind crap. Honest-to-God can't be seen by man nor beast."
"Great," Sam muttered. Truth be told, he was getting a little sick of Dean cataloguing all of Peter's powers. It had been an amusing road game only for the first hundred miles or so.
"That would be so useful. Remember that invisible kid in that women's locker room? If I had invisibility, I could have gone undercover. Gotten the inside scoop."
"You're a pig."
"It would be useful!"
"You know what would be useful? Being able to exorcise demons with my mind," Sam snapped.
Dean shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked, and Sam saw his jaw start to clench in anger.
"I've gotta pee," Sam said.
Dean jerked the Impala onto the shoulder of the highway, and Sam got out.
--
Fading back into view, Peter looked up at Sam with a calculated mixture of fear and defiance.
"He's perfect," Caroline sighed happily. "You'll be happy here..." She paused, waiting for Sam to supply a name.
"Peter."
"Peter. So just go relax for a while, and soon we'll all be friends." At Caroline's nod, Rourke and Tamara led Peter out through a side door. Sam looked after him, and hoped to hell Peter would be ok while they were separated. Of course he will, Sam reminded himself sharply. Peter could probably make mincemeat out of a possessed special, even two of them, if he had to defend himself. That was the reason for having him along, after all.
Assuming, of course, the possession didn't go badly.
"Will you come with me Sam? I want everyone to meet you," Caroline asked, smiling up at him shyly. Sam wondered again at the contradiction between the uncertain young woman in front of him and the blatant evidence that she was being served by demons she herself had conjured. Forcing back misgivings, he smiled slightly at her and followed her into the depths of the building.
She opened up a heavy door that led down a steep flight of stairs. He took a moment to debate the wisdom of following Caroline down into the darkness, but there was really no choice. At the bottom of the stairs, Sam stopped just beside Caroline, trying to get his bearings in the enormous room.
The heat hit him like a blow: an intense, sauna-like heat that was thick with sexual musk and incense. Smoke from the incense burners obscured details, but Sam had no trouble making out the two dozen naked bodies writhing together on carpets, pillows, and mattresses, the sounds of their pleasure filling the air. The sexual aura in the room was poisonously potent, and Sam gritted his teeth against his arousal.
Christ on crutches, what the fuck is going on? Sam thought desperately. He’d been ready to do almost anything to keep his cover, but getting involved in an orgy hadn’t even been anywhere on his list of considerations, until now.
"Everyone, this is Sam. Please, make him welcome," Caroline announced. Her soft voice seemed to get everyone's attention, and heads snapped up all over the room, eyes flipping to black as they caught sight of him.
Jesus... Sam thought. He hadn't seen this many possessed people at once since he and Dean had fought Lilith's minions in that police station.
No one had moved to touch him yet, and Caroline led him deeper into the room. When he saw she was taking him toward a large, carved, wooden throne-like chair, Sam almost balked: not from her choice in furniture, but from what was behind the throne, out of view of the general orgy. Carved into the stone floor was a large circle. The edges of the circle were marked with twisted runes, and the center was burned black. Sam felt a twisting in his gut when he caught sight of it; he hadn't been this close to an unbroken seal since last Halloween, and it pierced him with a sick longing, like being homesick for something he'd never seen.
The feeling faded slightly when Caroline led him in front of the chair and smiled tremulously up at him. Tentatively she reached up and pushed his overshirt shirt aside, slowly drawing it down his arms and off of his back. Sam felt himself sweating, and wondered how far he was going to have to go for this subterfuge. Caroline's small hands returned to tug at the hem of his t-shirt, her knuckles just barely brushing his stomach, and Sam hissed at what that did to him. It felt like he didn't have control of himself, because just that little touch had him starting to harden.
Caroline paused, and then slowly pushed the t-shirt up. Sam had to help her pull it over his head; he was too tall for her, and she bit her lip, sliding her hands over his naked chest and shoulders as if trying to memorize them by touch. Her hand lingered on the tattoo over his heart, and Sam could feel it begin to grow warm, as if it were reacting to Caroline's spell-protections. Sam shuddered, and reached out to touch her hair to distract her, almost certain this was what she wanted...
Caroline ducked away from his hands suddenly, and slid her own down to his belt.
"It's ok, you don't have to. I just want to see all of you," she whispered. "I like to watch. I want to watch you with all of them."
Oh dear sweet holy God... Sam thought faintly. He was not ready for this, but at this point, what the hell could he do? He couldn't exorcise two dozen people at once, not even on his best day. He needed to prove to Caroline that he was fully on board so he could figure out how to fix the seal before it broke. He just hadn't expected to... Damn it, Dean was going to be pissed.
Caroline tugged his belt open and knelt in front of him to take off his shoes, sliding the rest of his clothes off quickly, and staring up at him with what looked like wonder... which quickly faded to concern.
"You're hurt," she said. Sam looked down at himself, remembering he had bruised ribs from that bar fight last week and a healing cut on his thigh where he'd forced himself through a hole in a chain-link fence.
"It's nothing," he protested, but Caroline was already gently pushing him into the throne. Sam curled his fingers around the arms, uncomfortably aware of how this looked, that he was looming over everyone else in the room.
"Aaron! Aaron, I need you," she called. A pale, blonde-haired young man separated himself from the throng, to sounds of disappointment from his partners. His skin was mottled with bruises and striped with scars in all stages of healing, but he moved easily despite his wounds.
"Help him. I need everything to be perfect for our new friend," Caroline whispered. Sam was just about to open his mouth to protest when Aaron knelt at his feet and slid his hands up Sam's thigh. There was a rush of energy that crackled through his skin, making him gasp, as Sam watched the wounds on his own body disappear, then reappear on Aaron's body. The remaining energy thrumming through him was even worse than Caroline's touch, and Sam was starting to throb.
"Do you like him Aaron?" Caroline asked, standing next to Sam now, but not touching. Aaron nodded slowly, his hands, far too warm, still on Sam's skin. "I want to save him for our new friend, I know it will be better for him, but give him a taste. Welcome him."
Sam bit down on a protest as his body begged him to surrender. Behind Aaron came two women and another man, all of them beautiful, all of them on their knees. All of them staring at him.
"Welcome him," Caroline urged again, and Sam was suddenly drowning in hands and lips and heat.
+++++
"What, this what now?" Dean asked warily. He followed Nathan up the stairs of the Natchitoches Parish Sheriff's Office, although he seemed concerned that the building might bite him.
Nathan patted his briefcase. "It's like voodoo, except that instead of calling spirits of dead ancestors, I'm calling on the laws of the state of Louisiana."
"Is that safe?" Dean asked. "You shouldn't play with powers you can't control."
"We can't keep running interference on Caroline's demons and Bennet's people too."
"This Bennet dude hasn't even shown up yet," Dean pointed out.
"He will. It's a matter of time," Nathan said grimly. If he knew Bennet, the man could be on his way already. "And in any case, the last thing we want is civilians wandering into the fray. We have to find a way to keep everyone out of that place until Sam and Peter have time to do their thing."
"Okay. I can get behind that. So what are you gonna do, sue them into building a wall or something?"
"No. I'm going to create a political firestorm." Nathan straightened his tie and nodded toward the door. "You coming?"
Dean shrugged.
Nathan stormed into the office, right up to the front desk, and said, "I need to see the sheriff. Right now."
The woman behind the counter grew wide-eyed as she took in Nathan and Dean's suits. "You boys aren’t from around here," she said slowly. It wasn't really a question.
Nathan straightened his spine and put on his best, insufferably confident lawyer voice. "Ma'am, we flew in from DC this morning, and our time is very valuable," Nathan said. "Get me the sheriff."
--
"I like you in a police uniform," Peter said. He pulled Nathan toward him by the belt. "It's a nice change from the suit and tie."
"I like the suit and tie. Besides, I can't help it if I always have to play the lawyer." Nathan pulled the handcuffs out of the pouch on his belt and chuckled when Peter got onto the bed in two seconds flat. "You don't look old enough." He paused thoughtfully in the act of cuffing Peter to the headboard. "Or authoritative enough."
"Well then I guess you'll have to keep playing all the bossy asshole roles." Peter tilted his face up for a kiss, and Nathan was happy to oblige until he felt Peter drawing away, his lips shaping a frown.
"What?"
"Do you miss it?" Peter asked, suddenly serious.
Nathan sighed. Leave it to his brother to interrupt kinky foreplay for a heart-to-heart. "Not really," Nathan lied. He started stripping off Peter's clothes, willing him to get with the program.
"Mind reader," Peter said warningly.
"Didn't Ma teach you any manners?" He slapped Peter's face gently. It was a playful slap. Nathan wouldn't hurt Peter, not really, no matter how much he sometimes wanted to. He just wanted to stop him prying, stop him twisting the knife in old wounds, stop him reminding Nathan of what he'd lost.
Peter ducked his head in contrition and wrapped his legs around Nathan to draw their bodies together. "Sorry," he said. "I like you as a cop, too. Keep going."
--
"Victor!" she called without taking her eyes off Nathan. "There's some gentlemen here to see you."
A middle-aged man in a khaki uniform stuck his head out. He did a double-take when he saw Nathan and Dean standing at the front desk, and he came out to greet them, pulling down his shirt to hide his paunch.
"I'm Sherriff Jones," he said, sticking out his hand. "What can I do for you?"
Nathan grabbed his hand and gave it a firm, perfunctory shake. "I'm Arthur Branch. This is my associate Jack McCoy. We represent the Environmental Justice League."
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. "Why don't we go to my office."
"No need," Nathan said briskly. "This will only take a minute." He deftly pulled a document out of his briefcase and slapped it down on the counter. "What I have here is a permit to stage a protest out at the old Abernathy property on Old River Road."
"Stage a what?" the sheriff asked.
"A protest. We've received information that a certain international corporation has arranged to purchase that land, in a clear violation of the Environmental Protection Act of 1987, which specifically protects wetlands like those on the Abernathy property."
"Now wait just a minute--."
"My clients are prepared to fight this acquisition in the court of public opinion, starting with a large-scale protest." A crowed of employees was gathering, sticking their heads in from every corner of the office to see what all the commotion was about. Nathan was getting cranked up now, and he reveled in the joy of holding forth to his audience. "They're bussing in students from Dallas, Atlanta, even St. Louis. They'll go to that property and give those corporate money-grubbers something to think about."
"If you think you can just walk into my town and--."
"This piece of paper gives me the right," Nathan said. He picked up the document from the counter and waved it in the sheriff’s face. "My clients expect to be able to conduct their protest any way they want in this crummy little backwater, sir, and if you even try to obstruct them, I'll sue everyone in this goddamn town until they don't have a pot to piss in, you got that?"
Nathan slammed down the paper once more, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the station as quickly as he'd come.
Dean was hard on his heels. "What the hell was that supposed to accomplish?" he demanded.
"A big-city lawyer just told a small-town sheriff that he can't do something," Nathan said, showing a shark-toothed smile. "What do you think is going to happen?"
Dean's grin echoed his. "I think before sunset the whole perimeter of that place is going to be crawling with state troopers looking to bust the heads of some dirty hippies."
"Let's hope so. But keep walking anyway. They do have shotguns in there."
Next part
Previous part
Master Post
Authors:
jaune_chat and brighteyed_jillArt: by
xkelorosiamano is at her graphics community.Pairings: Every combination of Nathan and Peter Petrelli and Sam and Dean Winchester
Rating: NC-17
Warning: See Part One for full list
Spoilers: Supernatural--though 4x16. Heroes--vague ones for Season 2
Authors' notes: Written for
sncross_bigbang. Beta and dusting by the talented and beautiful redandglendaSummary: Sam and Dean discover demons have been possessing people with special abilities that have nothing to do with magic. Peter draws a future that reunites him and Nathan with the Winchester brothers. Together they find out that specials--people whose powers come from an unusual inherited gene-- are being targeted for possession by a woman who is on the verge of breaking one of the sixty-six seals.
Five miles outside of Lake End, Sam pulled the Impala over.
"Need to call Ruby?" Peter asked. Sam shook his head.
"Got that information yesterday," Sam said. "But we better get you in the trunk before someone spots you riding around."
--
"Three calls in three days. A girl might think you're in love, Sam," Ruby greeted him. Sam swallowed hard; it wasn't fair and it wasn't right and it was all sorts of wrong on so many levels what he was doing with Ruby, but he needed her. He would have died last summer without her help. And he couldn't cut her out of his life, no matter what Dean wanted.
"Do you know where any of the Lake End demons are? We're going in tomorrow," Sam asked.
"Oh yeah. They're like hot spots of light on the map. If more of us were around here, this place would be a free-for-all mosh pit. Just be lucky this Caroline likes her pleasures of the flesh; it keeps them all a little distracted."
"...What?"
"Never mind, you'll see. I know this one guy..."
--
"The guy's called Rourke. He hang around right outside of town. Maybe a fifteen minute drive. Are you going to be ok?" Sam asked as he weaved the ropes around Peter's hands as he perched on the back bumper. "It's going to get hot in there." Black car, hot day in the sunny South...
"I'll be fine," Peter said, flashing him a bit of a grin. Sam suddenly felt a brief riming of frost on Peter's hands.
"Ok, now you're just showing off," Sam muttered, and bent down to tighten the restraints on Peter's legs. From that angle, Sam couldn't help but notice Peter was subtly but definitely somewhat interested in how firmly he was tying the knots.
Peter noticed that too. "Uh... sorry. I'm weird like that."
Sam's lips twitched a few times, and he filed that thought away very deeply in his brain.
"You sure you're going to be fine?" he asked again.
"As much as I can be. I'm nervous as hell," Peter confessed.
"Maybe don't say that word. Just in case," Sam said. "Watch your head." With that, Sam gently pushed Peter into the trunk, trying to make sure he wasn't going to accidentally slide onto the knives or something.
"Man, we live weird lives," Peter commented as he wiggled amongst the armory to try to get himself comfortable.
"I know," Sam muttered, and then tied the gag around Peter's mouth.
+++++
It was long moments in suffocating darkness before the car stopped. Longer moments passed while Sam talked with some man. Only fragments of the conversation made their way to Peter's ears. It was too hot to concentrate enough on telepathy, too hot to do anything but maintain his frost, on healing, trying not to let himself die. That would be very hard to explain.
Finally Sam opened the trunk long enough for the man, Rourke, to get a good, long look at him. One crooked smile later, and the trunk slammed shut again. Longer minutes, or maybe hours went by. The Impala bounced down a rough gravel road, kicking up gravel that pinged against the underbelly of the car inches from Peter’s ear. A little later, the sounds of insects and frogs rang out loudly, and the Impala stopped.
Car doors slammed, and then a woman began to talk with Sam and Rourke. This time Peter heard her name. Caroline. Showtime, he thought, and schooled his face into the appropriately nervous expression... which actually didn't take any acting at all.
"I've brought you a token of my sincerity." Peter heard those words very clearly as Sam popped open the trunk of the Impala to reveal him, bound, gagged, and looking very pissed off. "I hear you've been collecting people with certain... abilities."
Caroline looked dubiously at Peter and then back at Sam. "And you think this man is one of them?"
Sam smiled, flashing his teeth. "This one's special. Trust me."
+++++
Sam kept staring at Caroline as she stood like a queen on the steps of the mansion, head inclined only slightly in respect. While he didn’t want to challenge her directly, he also didn’t want to appear to be too subservient. He had to sell himself in the role of Sam the Demon King, and kings did not bow.
He kept his attention on her, but was fiercely aware of the two possessed behind her, holding Peter up between them. One was a slender young woman with bright red hair that Caroline had called Tamara, the other, Rourke, was a shorter, heavily muscled black man with a shaved head and cruel expression on his face. Both of them held Peter in a death-grip, probably ready to snap his neck if he tried anything. Sam could feel the black smoke of the demons inside them, and kept himself ready. If everything fell apart here, if Caroline guessed their game, he could exorcise them on the spot and have Peter teleport them out...
Caroline accepted Sam's assessment of her with a shy smile, blinking slowly behind her glasses, and looked him over appreciatively in return. Despite the fact she looked like a college-age librarian, slender, short, with mousy-brown hair and glasses, she was giving off an aura of power that had Sam’s skin prickling. No normal human had ever made him feel that way; the closest comparison was Ruby, and then only when she was casting spells.
The scariest part about it was that Caroline wasn’t wearing a single charm or amulet Sam could see: no jewelry of any kind. So that meant what spells she was using on herself didn’t need a physical anchor. Ruby had been right; this was powerful spellwork of the most ancient order. She didn’t have the same feel as any of the other psychic kids; nothing about her was out of the ordinary except the electric hum of spells on Sam’s skin.
“I never expected royalty to want to visit me,” Caroline said softly. She stood two steps above Sam on the porch so she could look him in the eyes. “All I ever wanted were friends who would care for me and never leave me. I never thought that this could lead to more…”
She reached out and petted Rourke, and then Tamara on the head. They all but rubbed up against her legs and purred their devotion back to her.
Sam struggled to not let his jaw drop. Those two were definitely possessed, as possessed as Caroline wasn’t. Clear of any direct demonic influence, skin hardened with protective spells, Caroline had apparently secured the affection and loyalty, such as it was, from those she’d possessed.
That just didn’t happen. Either a demon wanted to be on their own, or loved company so much they’d call up their buddies to cheerfully possess as many as they could. The idea of a demon being willingly, honestly subservient to a human magician was unheard of. The idea that several demons had gotten the same notion at almost the same time was laughable.
Caroline had some real hold over them. And despite the nerdy exterior, that made her more dangerous than anything Sam might become.
“So I wonder why you, of all people, have come bearing gifts for me. Are you a Greek, Sam? Do you want to take away my friends with some trick you and your brother thought up?” Her tone of voice was mild, but the air around her crackled with power. Sam had the strong impression that if he tried to run now he’d die on the spot, either at the hand of one of the demons holding Peter, or from some spell she had ready.
“I’m not with Dean anymore,” Sam said, meeting her gaze squarely.
“I’ve heard about you, Sam. I’ve heard about the Winchesters, and what they do to people who are… different. I know you’ve done this all your life. So why would you suddenly give up everything you’ve known? Why did you have a change of heart?”
“Dean hates my powers. He hates everything I’m becoming, and he’s determined to save me from myself,” Sam said, holding his head high. None of that was a lie, but it still hurt to say it out loud.
“Do you think he might be right? That your powers, your demon blood, might cause you to become something you don’t want to be?” Caroline asked.
“I’m never going to figure that out if I keep getting shut down every time I try to use them. I can’t exactly go and purify my blood, now can I? I have it, and I can’t get rid of it. So I want to know everything about it. I want to learn how to use it, my way.”
Caroline smiled at that, an odd smile of camaraderie. Or maybe it wasn’t so odd. Ruby had claimed Caroline had access to some kind of ancient text, and she practically reeked of librarian clichés, so it wasn’t so strange to think that she would have some fellow-feeling towards someone who wanted knowledge. Not that Sam could afford to be complacent towards Caroline. Not when people had already died because of what she had done.
“And once you learn everything you can, what then? What do you want from me, Sam?”
“I want out. I’m tired of hunting, Caroline. I’m tired of busting my ass for less and less reward. I’m tired of the angels. I’m tired and mad that they turned Dean against me. I’m sick of Lilith trying to recruit me for her sick little power games or trying to put my head on a pike. I’m tired of everyone wanting a piece of me, to kill me or shut me down. I’m tired and I’m exhausted, and I’m alone,” Sam said, and heaved a heavy sigh. What he’d said was not even half a lie, and it was cathartic, in a strange way, to set that all out in the open.
“And what of your brother? It is said he went to hell to save you,” she said, sounding almost reverent. “It is said the bond between you was so strong that not even death could sever it. Why do you leave him now?”
“I’m twenty-six years old, and he’s all the family I have left. I didn’t want to leave him. I love him. But…” Sam took a deep breath. “He tried to kill me. He thought it was the only way to stop me. He betrayed me.”
The air around Caroline seemed to flex for a moment, and the sunlight took on a thin quality as she stared right through him. Sam figured she was trying to see the truth in his statement, and he concentrated on feeling betrayed; it was something depressingly easy to do, considering everything he’d been throttling down and holding back over the past few months. Dean hadn’t actually tried to kill him directly, but Sam was worried, more than worried, that some day he might try to hurt him.
“You poor thing,” Caroline said sadly, reaching out to touch his face. Her touch jolted through Sam like he’d just grabbed a live wire, and he gasped. “You want to be around people who won’t judge you for being different. People who will love you and won’t betray you, isn’t that right?”
For a second, Sam felt a genuine compulsion to bow his head to her, to kneel and accept what she was offering: acceptance, inclusion, family. Then he felt a burning in his blood, and brought his head up challengingly, the urge to submit broken.
“I want a place where I can belong,” he said firmly. Rourke and Tamara’s eyes widened in astonishment, while Caroline’s widened in delight.
“With you at my side, there’s so much more I can do here. There is much written about you.” That simple statement seemed to bring a light to her eyes, as if she’d just received a revelation from Heaven.
“Will you join with me willingly, Sam Winchester? Will you add your knowledge and power to mine, to make this place your true home?” she asked. Her tone was formal, as if she were making a pledge. No, she was making a pledge. The words weren’t quite spell-charged, but not far from it. Sam had to be careful how he accepted.
“What do you offer me?” he asked. The two possessed gasped at his audacity, but Caroline only nodded.
“Knowledge and a home. Inclusion within my friends, and all they have to offer,” she said, spreading her hands wide. “What do you offer me?”
“My power, working alongside you, to understand and learn,” Sam said, after the barest of hesitations that he hoped he had passed off as a dramatic pause.
“I accept you,” Caroline said, looking down at him imperiously, and Sam felt something ripple through him from head to toe. “Please, come in Sam.”
As Sam mounted the steps, he could see Peter was staring up at him through his bangs, looking at him as if he’d just sold his soul. Sam couldn’t do anything about it but ignore him for now. He’d just leapt into the lion’s den, and he couldn’t stop to reassure the gazelle he’d brought for the pride to feast upon.
Rourke and Tamara hauled Peter along as Sam followed Caroline into the depths of the old mansion. Inside there was a distinct smell of incense, overlaying the scent of sex. Gasps and groans sounded from somewhere deeper inside the building, and Sam was rapidly going from nervous to flat-out confused.
This was supposed to be a demon’s den, and Sam had been expecting blood, screams, torture, and mayhem. He’d been expecting more Dante’s Inferno than the Playboy Mansion. Every room he passed held cushions, lamps, and paintings, not arcane equipment, magic circles, torture racks, or anything else he would have considered “normal.” If normal could apply to anything about this situation.
Caroline led the little parade into a much smaller room filled with books, pillows, and candles. It looked like a cross between a library and a bordello. It was much cooler in here than the rest of the place, and the smell of incense had completely replaced the underlying stench of decaying vegetation and swamp water that had permeated the air outside. Caroline sat down cross-legged on a cushion, opened up a book, and settled it on her lap. Despite craning his neck slightly to see, Sam didn't recognize the language in which the book was written. The tome looked incredibly ancient.
"I've read about you, Sam Winchester. 'All of hell shall rise at his command. The demon blood prince will become a king in the new infernal order, and spread the power of the dark realms over all of the earth,'" she recited. The two possessed hanging onto Peter sighed at her voice, and began to chant something in a foreign tongue. Caroline joined them. She didn’t hesitate or stumble over the strange words, but chanted the brief sentences as if they were a prayer. The possesseds’ eyes briefly flipped to beetle-black as they went quiet, and Caroline looked up at Sam tentatively.
"That is the power you command, the power over hell itself. And that is what I will help you learn, if you will use the power you’ve been given to help me with my own rituals,” she said.
Sam nodded slowly. He was not entirely certain what she wanted from him, but he saw no way of refusing, not this deep into her lair.
“Tell me about yourself, Sam,” Caroline asked. “Please.”
“There seems to be a lot that’s already written,” Sam stated, trying to play to her, and Caroline smiled broadly.
“Yes, much can be found in the right books,” she said, and waved her hand at the pile of books and scrolls. Sam stared at them in dismay. All of them were in foreign tongues, in no easily identifiable order, and all of them looked easily old enough to be the culprit book or books that had given Caroline her powers. He and Peter had their work cut out for them…
“I already know a great deal about you,” Caroline continued. She seemed pleased that Sam had assumed she already knew most of what there was to know about him.
"Well?" Sam asked, spreading his hands. "What else do you want to know?"
"I have to be careful. I don't want anyone who’s going to draw attention. I only want people who will fit in here. And..." Caroline's voice dropped to a whisper. "I always wanted more friends like me. So... show me. How is he special?" She glanced over at Peter.
Sam turned to him. "Go on," he said forcefully. "Show the lady." Caroline's eyes glowed at the comment, like the school wallflower who had just been asked to dance by the star quarterback.
Peter glared up defiantly between his two captors, and Sam lunged in to take his jaw in a crushing grip. "You wanted this, so show her. Now," Sam growled with menace.
Peter played his part well, letting a faint flush show on his face before dropping his eyes respectfully. Then he shimmered out of view. Caroline, Rourke, and Tamara stared at the invisible Peter; Caroline actually reached out to make sure Peter was still there before breaking into a smile of approval.
Sam heaved an inaudible sigh of relief. Invisibility had been a gamble on their part. They hadn't wanted to show Caroline anything too strong, like electricity or teleportation, for fear she'd reject it as too dangerous. They didn't want to show her anything that imitated what demons could already do, like telekinesis or regeneration, to avoid suspicion. And powers like precognition and telepathy might have made her feel threatened. Peter said he had other powers, but invisibility was innocuous enough, and would make Sam look particularly clever for having captured him.
--
"No, Peter can go, like, totally invisible," Dean explained. "Not just that cloud-the-mind crap. Honest-to-God can't be seen by man nor beast."
"Great," Sam muttered. Truth be told, he was getting a little sick of Dean cataloguing all of Peter's powers. It had been an amusing road game only for the first hundred miles or so.
"That would be so useful. Remember that invisible kid in that women's locker room? If I had invisibility, I could have gone undercover. Gotten the inside scoop."
"You're a pig."
"It would be useful!"
"You know what would be useful? Being able to exorcise demons with my mind," Sam snapped.
Dean shut his mouth so fast his teeth clicked, and Sam saw his jaw start to clench in anger.
"I've gotta pee," Sam said.
Dean jerked the Impala onto the shoulder of the highway, and Sam got out.
--
Fading back into view, Peter looked up at Sam with a calculated mixture of fear and defiance.
"He's perfect," Caroline sighed happily. "You'll be happy here..." She paused, waiting for Sam to supply a name.
"Peter."
"Peter. So just go relax for a while, and soon we'll all be friends." At Caroline's nod, Rourke and Tamara led Peter out through a side door. Sam looked after him, and hoped to hell Peter would be ok while they were separated. Of course he will, Sam reminded himself sharply. Peter could probably make mincemeat out of a possessed special, even two of them, if he had to defend himself. That was the reason for having him along, after all.
Assuming, of course, the possession didn't go badly.
"Will you come with me Sam? I want everyone to meet you," Caroline asked, smiling up at him shyly. Sam wondered again at the contradiction between the uncertain young woman in front of him and the blatant evidence that she was being served by demons she herself had conjured. Forcing back misgivings, he smiled slightly at her and followed her into the depths of the building.
She opened up a heavy door that led down a steep flight of stairs. He took a moment to debate the wisdom of following Caroline down into the darkness, but there was really no choice. At the bottom of the stairs, Sam stopped just beside Caroline, trying to get his bearings in the enormous room.
The heat hit him like a blow: an intense, sauna-like heat that was thick with sexual musk and incense. Smoke from the incense burners obscured details, but Sam had no trouble making out the two dozen naked bodies writhing together on carpets, pillows, and mattresses, the sounds of their pleasure filling the air. The sexual aura in the room was poisonously potent, and Sam gritted his teeth against his arousal.
Christ on crutches, what the fuck is going on? Sam thought desperately. He’d been ready to do almost anything to keep his cover, but getting involved in an orgy hadn’t even been anywhere on his list of considerations, until now.
"Everyone, this is Sam. Please, make him welcome," Caroline announced. Her soft voice seemed to get everyone's attention, and heads snapped up all over the room, eyes flipping to black as they caught sight of him.
Jesus... Sam thought. He hadn't seen this many possessed people at once since he and Dean had fought Lilith's minions in that police station.
No one had moved to touch him yet, and Caroline led him deeper into the room. When he saw she was taking him toward a large, carved, wooden throne-like chair, Sam almost balked: not from her choice in furniture, but from what was behind the throne, out of view of the general orgy. Carved into the stone floor was a large circle. The edges of the circle were marked with twisted runes, and the center was burned black. Sam felt a twisting in his gut when he caught sight of it; he hadn't been this close to an unbroken seal since last Halloween, and it pierced him with a sick longing, like being homesick for something he'd never seen.
The feeling faded slightly when Caroline led him in front of the chair and smiled tremulously up at him. Tentatively she reached up and pushed his overshirt shirt aside, slowly drawing it down his arms and off of his back. Sam felt himself sweating, and wondered how far he was going to have to go for this subterfuge. Caroline's small hands returned to tug at the hem of his t-shirt, her knuckles just barely brushing his stomach, and Sam hissed at what that did to him. It felt like he didn't have control of himself, because just that little touch had him starting to harden.
Caroline paused, and then slowly pushed the t-shirt up. Sam had to help her pull it over his head; he was too tall for her, and she bit her lip, sliding her hands over his naked chest and shoulders as if trying to memorize them by touch. Her hand lingered on the tattoo over his heart, and Sam could feel it begin to grow warm, as if it were reacting to Caroline's spell-protections. Sam shuddered, and reached out to touch her hair to distract her, almost certain this was what she wanted...
Caroline ducked away from his hands suddenly, and slid her own down to his belt.
"It's ok, you don't have to. I just want to see all of you," she whispered. "I like to watch. I want to watch you with all of them."
Oh dear sweet holy God... Sam thought faintly. He was not ready for this, but at this point, what the hell could he do? He couldn't exorcise two dozen people at once, not even on his best day. He needed to prove to Caroline that he was fully on board so he could figure out how to fix the seal before it broke. He just hadn't expected to... Damn it, Dean was going to be pissed.
Caroline tugged his belt open and knelt in front of him to take off his shoes, sliding the rest of his clothes off quickly, and staring up at him with what looked like wonder... which quickly faded to concern.
"You're hurt," she said. Sam looked down at himself, remembering he had bruised ribs from that bar fight last week and a healing cut on his thigh where he'd forced himself through a hole in a chain-link fence.
"It's nothing," he protested, but Caroline was already gently pushing him into the throne. Sam curled his fingers around the arms, uncomfortably aware of how this looked, that he was looming over everyone else in the room.
"Aaron! Aaron, I need you," she called. A pale, blonde-haired young man separated himself from the throng, to sounds of disappointment from his partners. His skin was mottled with bruises and striped with scars in all stages of healing, but he moved easily despite his wounds.
"Help him. I need everything to be perfect for our new friend," Caroline whispered. Sam was just about to open his mouth to protest when Aaron knelt at his feet and slid his hands up Sam's thigh. There was a rush of energy that crackled through his skin, making him gasp, as Sam watched the wounds on his own body disappear, then reappear on Aaron's body. The remaining energy thrumming through him was even worse than Caroline's touch, and Sam was starting to throb.
"Do you like him Aaron?" Caroline asked, standing next to Sam now, but not touching. Aaron nodded slowly, his hands, far too warm, still on Sam's skin. "I want to save him for our new friend, I know it will be better for him, but give him a taste. Welcome him."
Sam bit down on a protest as his body begged him to surrender. Behind Aaron came two women and another man, all of them beautiful, all of them on their knees. All of them staring at him.
"Welcome him," Caroline urged again, and Sam was suddenly drowning in hands and lips and heat.
+++++
"What, this what now?" Dean asked warily. He followed Nathan up the stairs of the Natchitoches Parish Sheriff's Office, although he seemed concerned that the building might bite him.
Nathan patted his briefcase. "It's like voodoo, except that instead of calling spirits of dead ancestors, I'm calling on the laws of the state of Louisiana."
"Is that safe?" Dean asked. "You shouldn't play with powers you can't control."
"We can't keep running interference on Caroline's demons and Bennet's people too."
"This Bennet dude hasn't even shown up yet," Dean pointed out.
"He will. It's a matter of time," Nathan said grimly. If he knew Bennet, the man could be on his way already. "And in any case, the last thing we want is civilians wandering into the fray. We have to find a way to keep everyone out of that place until Sam and Peter have time to do their thing."
"Okay. I can get behind that. So what are you gonna do, sue them into building a wall or something?"
"No. I'm going to create a political firestorm." Nathan straightened his tie and nodded toward the door. "You coming?"
Dean shrugged.
Nathan stormed into the office, right up to the front desk, and said, "I need to see the sheriff. Right now."
The woman behind the counter grew wide-eyed as she took in Nathan and Dean's suits. "You boys aren’t from around here," she said slowly. It wasn't really a question.
Nathan straightened his spine and put on his best, insufferably confident lawyer voice. "Ma'am, we flew in from DC this morning, and our time is very valuable," Nathan said. "Get me the sheriff."
--
"I like you in a police uniform," Peter said. He pulled Nathan toward him by the belt. "It's a nice change from the suit and tie."
"I like the suit and tie. Besides, I can't help it if I always have to play the lawyer." Nathan pulled the handcuffs out of the pouch on his belt and chuckled when Peter got onto the bed in two seconds flat. "You don't look old enough." He paused thoughtfully in the act of cuffing Peter to the headboard. "Or authoritative enough."
"Well then I guess you'll have to keep playing all the bossy asshole roles." Peter tilted his face up for a kiss, and Nathan was happy to oblige until he felt Peter drawing away, his lips shaping a frown.
"What?"
"Do you miss it?" Peter asked, suddenly serious.
Nathan sighed. Leave it to his brother to interrupt kinky foreplay for a heart-to-heart. "Not really," Nathan lied. He started stripping off Peter's clothes, willing him to get with the program.
"Mind reader," Peter said warningly.
"Didn't Ma teach you any manners?" He slapped Peter's face gently. It was a playful slap. Nathan wouldn't hurt Peter, not really, no matter how much he sometimes wanted to. He just wanted to stop him prying, stop him twisting the knife in old wounds, stop him reminding Nathan of what he'd lost.
Peter ducked his head in contrition and wrapped his legs around Nathan to draw their bodies together. "Sorry," he said. "I like you as a cop, too. Keep going."
--
"Victor!" she called without taking her eyes off Nathan. "There's some gentlemen here to see you."
A middle-aged man in a khaki uniform stuck his head out. He did a double-take when he saw Nathan and Dean standing at the front desk, and he came out to greet them, pulling down his shirt to hide his paunch.
"I'm Sherriff Jones," he said, sticking out his hand. "What can I do for you?"
Nathan grabbed his hand and gave it a firm, perfunctory shake. "I'm Arthur Branch. This is my associate Jack McCoy. We represent the Environmental Justice League."
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed. "Why don't we go to my office."
"No need," Nathan said briskly. "This will only take a minute." He deftly pulled a document out of his briefcase and slapped it down on the counter. "What I have here is a permit to stage a protest out at the old Abernathy property on Old River Road."
"Stage a what?" the sheriff asked.
"A protest. We've received information that a certain international corporation has arranged to purchase that land, in a clear violation of the Environmental Protection Act of 1987, which specifically protects wetlands like those on the Abernathy property."
"Now wait just a minute--."
"My clients are prepared to fight this acquisition in the court of public opinion, starting with a large-scale protest." A crowed of employees was gathering, sticking their heads in from every corner of the office to see what all the commotion was about. Nathan was getting cranked up now, and he reveled in the joy of holding forth to his audience. "They're bussing in students from Dallas, Atlanta, even St. Louis. They'll go to that property and give those corporate money-grubbers something to think about."
"If you think you can just walk into my town and--."
"This piece of paper gives me the right," Nathan said. He picked up the document from the counter and waved it in the sheriff’s face. "My clients expect to be able to conduct their protest any way they want in this crummy little backwater, sir, and if you even try to obstruct them, I'll sue everyone in this goddamn town until they don't have a pot to piss in, you got that?"
Nathan slammed down the paper once more, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the station as quickly as he'd come.
Dean was hard on his heels. "What the hell was that supposed to accomplish?" he demanded.
"A big-city lawyer just told a small-town sheriff that he can't do something," Nathan said, showing a shark-toothed smile. "What do you think is going to happen?"
Dean's grin echoed his. "I think before sunset the whole perimeter of that place is going to be crawling with state troopers looking to bust the heads of some dirty hippies."
"Let's hope so. But keep walking anyway. They do have shotguns in there."
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