Chapter Text
Blood was everywhere, a crimson tide covering everything. He whimpered, crawling backwards, his feet slipping in the slick, bloody pools.
“Don’t look,” the voice whispered.
But he looked anyway. His silent scream echoed through the empty room, a howl of the damned. That’s what he was now.
“He deserved it. Remember, remember, remember…” The voice murmured, insistent and maniacal in his ear.
Rocking back and forth, he keened softly to himself. The voice, familiar and demanding, broke through his haze: “Get up. Get up. GET UP! They’ll be here soon.”
Like an automaton, he rose to his feet, his eyes flicking to the other room—the hidden room with the trap door. Maybe he should…
“No, no, no, no… Noooo!” The voice crescendoed, then issued new instructions: “Burn it. Burn it all down.”
His face blank, he nodded. Ignoring the bloody lump of meat on the floor, pretending it was something else, anything else, he staggered to the kitchen. Quickly, he cut the gas line. He glanced at the microwave, tilting his head. It might not be necessary, but why leave anything to chance? He placed a metal tin inside and set the timer.
Holding the crook of his arm over his mouth to avoid the fumes, he gathered essentials. Distasteful as it was, he snagged the man’s coat and boots. They were far too large, but they would do until he found something better. More importantly, they would hide his scent for a while. On the sideboard lay a wallet and truck keys. He took those too.
Seconds later, he unlocked the door and stepped out. Finally, he was free.
The icy wind blasted his face, and for a moment, sheer terror gripped him. The unknown loomed ahead, and he felt an almost overwhelming urge to turn back, to run back to his…
“RUN,” the voice cut through his fear. “Run fast, run far, run long. They will come for you.”
He scrambled to the truck. It took three attempts before the engine roared to life. He had never driven a stick shift before, and he winced as the truck whined and protested with every gear change. By the time he reached the intersection, he felt reasonably confident he could drive without drawing undue attention.
Behind him, on the mountainside, a large whoosh of air erupted into flames. The fire briefly illuminated his face. Stiles smiled.
He was free at last, and his name was Stiles. No one would ever take that away from him again
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
The fire crews were already rolling away the hoses when he pulled up. They had done their job, but so had the fire and there was nothing left of the very pretty cottage he remembered from his youth, just a burnt out husk. His hands clenched on the wheel as he steeled himself for what lay ahead. Murder was always difficult but when you knew the victim even more so. As prime alpha sentinel he had received the alert call in the early hours of the morning. It was a sentinel matter now.
A shout from the ruined entrance way of the house caught his attention. Wishing briefly he had brought Blair with him, instead he had left him snuggled down and warm at home. Knowing what lay ahead of him he didn’t regret his decision, but still he would miss his calming presence. Heaving himself from out the car he was accosted almost immediately by his second in command.
"It’s bad chief".
Ellison growled, "Brief me? Are you sure its murder?"
"The axe sticking out from the victims head was our first clue", Derek remarked sardonically, before his face turned serious again, "The fires done its work so the coroner apart from confirming death, wouldn't say anything more but the body was pretty much in pieces a real hack job... I know he will need formally identified but it is Sentinel Peter Hale.
Ellison closed his eyes briefly, any hope for going home in time for breakfast and maybe waking Blair up from a peaceful slumber were immediately shattered. Damnit.
"Luckily one of the fire crews had a sentinel on duty. He sensed the situation and automatically locked down the area as a sentinel crime scene. Only sentinel personnel have been inside. Victim was last seen at 11pm leaving Barney's Bar. The explosion was called in by neighbours at 1am, here’s the briefing from the statements we have taken so far".
Ellison briefly read over the concise report grunting his approval, his second had as usual done an excellent job. "Check the back roads and you will need to call Dean in on this".
Derek gave him a resigned nod before striding away. Hiding no doubt his irritation at having to call his rival in but he was one of the best damn hunters in the western hemisphere.
Sighing Ellison had a bad feeling this case was going to get real messy. He walked through the crime scene, carefully letting the sentinel forensics do their job only calling out areas he wanted rechecked. He winced when he saw the kennels behind the house, the blackened husks all piled at the gate as thought they had desperately tried to escape. What sort of psycho would torch helpless animals. For that matter what sort of Psycho could get the jump on an alpha sentinel.
He turned and walked back into the house. His senses fully extended then growling in irritation. Between the fire damage, smoke and foam there was an overload. He would have to come back later. Goddamnit. The kitchen was a disaster, however although the explosion had occurred here by some strange coincidence apart from a flash fire, it was more or less intact unlike the rest of the house. He watched carefully as forensics photographed the cleanly cut gas lines, one eyebrow rising as he realised the significance of the exploded can lying in the remains of the microwave. Interesting.
Moving back into the hallway, he hunkered down onto his haunches trying to forget that the pieces in front of him were once the man he used to call uncle and had given him swimming lessons. They had fallen out years ago over his attitude to Blair, but perhaps he should have tried harder to mend the bridges. His eyes hardened and he swore then to do everything in his power to bring his killer to justice.
He moved swiftly then his mind already working trying to fit the puzzle pieces together, working out a plan of action. It was then he realised what was missing from the drive way. He smiled grimly maybe this could be over by breakfast.
"Listen up folks. All non-sentinel personnel need to leave immediately". There was a few mumbled grumbles but within minutes cars were driving away and even the fire crew had departed hastily. Nobody wanted to get caught up in a sentinel hunt.
Ellison waited patiently until the area was secure. Before turning to his crew. They looked up at him eyes glittering, faces hard. The death of a sentinel even one that had all but excommunicated himself had hit them hard.
"This is hunt and it’s a sentinel matter. I want a complete blackout on all information and news on this. He paused patiently until the surprised mumble of voices petered out, waited until he had everybody's complete attention.
"Now listen up folks. The victim Sentinel Peter Hale was last seen leaving Barneys at 11pm its a 30 minute drive at best. The explosion was called in at 1am - so time of death is between 11.30-1am. Morris take your guide down to Barney's see what you can find out, who he talked to, if he left with anybody see if they have cctv. Hustle people out of bed if you have to. He had an old prewar volvo truck - a red one, it’s missing. Sally I need the plates numbers asap. The trucks old, top speed in these hills is probably 25mph. Derek get roadblocks set up you and an APB out know the drill. The unsub will probably ditch it but he’s panicking not thinking straight. My guess is we are looking at a young unsub late teens early twenties, and folks I am pretty sure the unsub's a sentinel so proceed with all caution and he or he should only be approached by a take down team. Dean Winchester will be on scene", he glanced over, Derek nodded that he had contacted Dean, obviously that conversation had not gone well if Derek’s scowling face was any indication. "Dean Winchester will be in charge of the hunt and takedown".
As he issued further instructions and orders, he surveyed his team. Good sentinels and guides, he would lay down his life for them and he knew they would do the same. He couldn’t ask for any better. He nodded in satisfaction. "Times against us and the clocks ticking - move it".
A whirl of activity, as his team sped into orderly action. They had a mandate now, this is what they trained for and they were damn good at their job. He had made sure of that!
"Derek with me". Ellison motioned towards the house away from team.
“Yes Sir.”
"You have questions son?”
“How, I mean I know you knew the victim, but I couldn’t get anything in the house just too damn overload to the senses.”
“You have good sentinel instincts Derek, and that will stand you in good stead. But you are also a sentinel police investigator you have other skills use them too”. Ellison heaved a sigh “but a lot of it’s because I knew or used to anyhow know Peter Hale”.
“Sir?”
"Peter despised non sentinels - humans, guides, beta's you name it the man was a xenophobe of the worst type. It’s why I have had no contact with him in 15 years. He wasn’t always like that but after his wife died he changed. No way would he invite a non-sentinel back to his house”.
“And who else but a sentinel could get the drop on another sentinel. The attack is vicious and out of control. An older sentinel would have been more co-ordinated. The last blow to the head the axe got stuck ether the unsub did not have the strength to pull it out or more likely just gave up. All hallmarks of an unbonded out of control juvenile sentinel”.
Ellison crouched down beside some deep gouges in the snow covered dirt track “Tell me what do you see”.
Derek frowned and then leaned down, his eyes distant as he focused. It took him less than fifteen seconds and then he straightened with a grin as he suddenly got it. Ellison was impressed the kid was good.
“Tyres dug in too much, too much gas not enough clutch control. He panicked and tried to apply more here, then skidded, braked too hard, stalled and then restarted”, he laughed “either an inexperienced driver or just recently passed.”
Ellison nodded in approval, “It’s easier for me as I have Blair to ground myself even if he’s not here in person,” he stopped and turned to Derek “I want you to take lead investigator with Dean as your point man.”
Derek looked up at him in shock.
Ellison smiled in grim amusement, “I have my reasons”.
************************
Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, his head bobbing in time with the heavy bass of Jimi Hendrix as he purred along the back road. This was the life, an empty road, his baby, Jimi Hendrix and oh yeah a murdering sentinel scumbag. Christmas had come early! And the frosting on the top was he would get to see Derek again, he did so enjoy yanking his chain, it maybe hadn’t worked out between them both but those strong feelings of connection were still there. So they covered it with macho posturizing and good old fashioned pigtail yanking. And Dean was master at this. He smiled happily as he remembered Derek’s phonecall to him. Ha they needed him, he couldn’t wait till….
“WHAT THE HELL….” He yanked on the steering wheel narrowly missing a large pick up that had come out of nowhere, driving in the middle of the road. He could swear he could feel the 2 wheels of his car almost left up as he hurtled along the gravel roadside. He slammed on the horn, swearing at incompetent drivers, wishing he had time to go back and book that bastard.
“stupid inbred hillybillies”, he cursed watching in his rear view mirror as the pick up raced away.
“Hold on a…” he muttered.
“Pick up – check.”
“Red – Check”, Hmmm he flicked open his mobile.
“Hey that unsub was he driving erratically a red pickup licence plate SPH 100?”
“yeah, how did you…”
“Whooo Hooo. Don’t worry sweetcheeks this will be over by brunch - Daddy is on the case”.
“Dean?, DEAN? Dont you ….DEAN … what’s your location?”
“ssssss… sssss… oh you are breaking up I cant hear you… shhshhhs shshhh.” Dean grinned manically as he flipped the phone off. Ha that would get Derek’s panties in a twist.
He did a textbook reverse turn, his baby behaving perfectly as with a squeal of brakes and then a throaty roar that made his blood quicken, they almost took off as they raced back along the road after their prey. He cranked up the music. This is what he lived for!!! Hoooooo RAAAA.
It only took a minute to catch up to the unsub, who was a spectacular bad driver. He rolled down the window and attached his small portable siren. Flicking the switch to alert his target that the game was up. Time to play scumbag!
He beeped to indicate he should pull over, the unsub responded by trying to pull away, his driving even more erratic as he panicked. Piece of cake he thought to himself as he grinned crazily.
His sentinel senses extended to the fullest, reaction times faster than a mongoose. He calculated the exact moment …. And then with a hungry growl, the impala shot forward, speeding into the gap and overtaking the pick up. The unsub tried to ram him as he went past not realising how the road bent to the left, as Dean expected he misjudged missing his car completely , he caught a glimpse of panicked frightened eyes as the truck careered off the road and down the embankment.
Whoops”, commented Dean nonchalantly as he skidded to a stop. He took a few seconds to clip his badge to his jacket, and the jumping out crouched low his favourite piece held firmly in a 2 handed grip. The safety off.
He slid down the embankment noting with glee the position of the pick up.
“S.P.I put your hands on your head and don’t move motherfucker”, he barked out, alpha authority in every word.
He stilled and listened, the soft hiss of the radiator, he extended his sense further. There a scrape, the soft pitter patter of small stones being dislodged. Cursing he barely gave the empty pick up a glance as he slithered down the slope. Ahead at the bottom was steel shiny train tracks. He caught a glimpse of a slender small figure as it darted into the train tunnel.
“Goddammit”, he hesitated wondering if he should call this in - an unbonded juvenile sentinel? Nah not a chance. Besides the unsub looked titchy maybe a beta sentinel .
He moved fast not wanting to give his target a chance to dig in or get further away. Oh this was a fun hunt. Adrenalin was racing through him it was almost a shame this was going to come to an end so quickly.
His eyes already adjusting to the gloom of the tunnel, he edged forward softly, a hunters walk, soft, quiet, deliberate. His senses all tuned into the slightest variation.
“S.P.I. I’m giving you one chance to come out kid, I will shoot and I will shoot to Kill.”
He paused – Nothing.
“It’s the end of the road, just make this easy for yourself and come forward.” His voice echoed crazily in the tunnel making his senses jangle unpleasantly.
Still no answer, not that he had expected any from this murdering scum.
As he moved forward, he caught the slight hum from the rail tracks. Head tilted to the side he considered – a goods train – a good 5 minutes away. Piece of cake this would be over in two.
There a breath, then another, a frantic heart beat like a bird caught in a trap, the faint stale smell of sweat and fear and the sharp tang of blood. He frowned something was not right here. He moved towards the sound, ignoring the train tracks beneath him as he pinpointed the unsubs position. His sentinel senses all working in perfect symmetry. It was almost beautiful. Then he felt it the sweet heady mental aura of an unbonded Guide. A strong one at that.
“Holy Shit”. He whispered to himself.
A soft whimper answered him, and Dean’s heart constricted. He switched the safety off. Letting his gun fall to his side. Holding his free hand out he entreated gently. “ Hey its okay, I am not going to hurt you, you can come out now.”
Another whimper and then a weak snarl, “Go away, Go away.” The voice ridiculously young.
“Sweetheart you know I cannot do that.” He soothed, adding just a touch of authority to his voice. “Come on come with me, there’s a train coming and we need to get you to safety. My car is warm and I have hot chocolate in a themos.”
“Go away, I don’t want to hurt you… please.”
Dean rolled his eyes, god save him from hysterical guides. He was an alpha sentinel for God’s sake. He was close now just one more step and he would be in grabbing distance. Now he knew he wasn’t dealing with a sentinel he could go a bit faster the Guide was probably as bind as a bat in this cave and weak.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry….so sorry.”
“Its okay, everything will be okay”, he promised. He reached behind him for his cuffs, better do this quick and get it over with.
He felt the guide mentally reach him, and despite himself he momentarily hesitated, the feeling of rightness of this felt good. His sentinel senses wide open as he let the guide in.
A SHRIEKING SCREAM, pain exploding in his brain, white out as his senses began to switch off. His last conscious though was ZONE OUT. Which was pretty damn unhelpful as the world seemed to freeze.
He was aware on some level as the rumbling got louder, the rail tracks vibrating audibly now. The screams of the guide telling him to move his ass. Then a warm soft body hitting him, his head making a sickening crack against the steel tracks, as he was rolled out of harm’s way, then gravel digging into his cheek. The guide crying hysterically against him clutching him tight, his cheek deathly cold against his. Warm salty tears fell on his face, tracking down until they reached the crease of his lips. And then darkness.
Stiles sobbed in pure fear as the train thundered past, its passage whisking the hat off his bald stubbly head. Its passage a mere inches from their bodies.
It took him too long to move once the train had passed clasping the sentinel close to him like a lifeline. Shivering he rolled away retching to the side. Before standing up to survey the sentinel. He had heard of zone outs and he knew he had done something very very bad to this sentinel. And not just any sentinel, a cop sentinel and an alpha one at that if he didn’t miss his guess. And what was he doing pursuing a dangerous criminal without back up. Did he not know police procedure or was he such an arrogant bastard he thought the rules didn’t apply to him.
He wasn’t moving at all, and his eyes were shut almost as if he was sleeping, just the slow puffs of air indicating he was still alive. Stiles suddenly without thinking, kicked out at him, feeling at spurt of satisfaction at the dull thuds of his boots hitting the sentinels side.
“Arsehole”, he screamed.
Oh god what was he doing he was hitting an officer of the law, his dad had been a cop he would be so ashamed of him. Stiles sighed he couldn’t leave him like this no doubt there would be people looking for him soon. But still he couldn’t leave him. They were close to the other side of the tunnel so he dragged him that way. Wincing at the blood seeping from the sentinels head. No doubt as a sentinel he had a harder head than most he tried to console himself. Rolling him into the recovery position, he swiftly searched his pockets. Smiling triumphantly when he found the car keys. Then his phone, he was already in so much trouble but he couldn’t leave him here like this. All sentinels were egotistical arseholes but still he was a cop too, just like his dad had been. Stiles texted the last number he called, before he changed his mind, glad the sentinel didn’t have a key lock on his phone.
“HELP, OFFICER DOWN, TRAIN TUNNEL” He texted
There that should do the trick. The phone began ringing angrily. He pressed to receive and then left it in the sentinel’s hand - they would be able to trace the call.
Then he ran through the tunnel, and up the bank, grinning in appreciation at the work of art before him. It was really quite the beauty. And suited the sentinel he had left behind.
The car purred to life as he started it, far easier to drive than that blasted tank of a pickup, it was so light to the touch, what a dream. With Hendrix blaring out he smiled in appreciation, it had been so long since he had heard Hendrix. Cool car, cool music maybe the sentinel wasn’t such an arsehole after all. Then he scolded himself softly , “All sentinels are bad, not to be trusted and should be avoided at all costs.”
*******************************************
The car was still rolling to a halt, as Derek sprang from the car earning him a muffled oath from his driver. He ignored it, his eyes firmly fixed on the huddle of police offices and paramedics around the prone figure on the ground being slowly carefully lifted onto a stretcher. “You goddamn stupid fool.” He ground out for the umpteenth time. “You stupid stupid fool.”
“How is he?” he barked out as soon as the stretcher was loaded into the waiting ambulance. He steeled himself for the worst.
“He’s unconscious, but all vitals are good, no signs of hypothermia so he hasn’t been out here long. There’s a nasty gash on his head which will need stitches. Well know more when we get to the hospital. Do you want to come with us”, the paramedic enquired seeing the look of relief on Derek’s face at his prognosis.
He closed his eyes, he desperately wanted to go. Then shook his head he knew his responsibility and he wanted to catch this motherfucker. He watched the ambulance disappear and then returned to the scene. Staring grimly at the scarlet patch of red a bright contrast to the dusting of snow. There was blood trails and drag marks leading to the tunnel. But nothing leading away. The tunnel it was then.
Barking out orders his men fanned out eyes and senses alert. They were all spooked anybody that could get the jump on an alpha sentinel needed to be treated with caution, but to get the jump on Dean a highly focused alpha sentinel with almost legendary status that was a whole new ball game. They upholstered their guns and moved in with perfect precision.
They took their time, 10 minutes later the area was secure and Derek swore as he realised the significance of the crashed pick up. Clambering to the top of the embankment as he examined the tread marks grimly.
“Fuck”, he muttered “the bastards taken the impala. He grinned suddenly imaging Dean’s reaction to the theft of his pride and joy, “Dean’s going to go fucking nuts”. He always though Dean was too precious about his baby.
He reeled out the licence plate number to his officer ignoring his confused look about why he knew Dean’s plate by heart. An APB was put out and cordons relocated accordingly.
Satisfied that everything was done here he went back to the tunnel. Scrutinising the scene in more detail, Deans gun lying in the dip between the tracks. The safety on ??? The small pool of sick on the gravel… it all just wasn’t adding up. He needed to check in with control and then head to the hospital maybe Dean would be awake by then and he could bounce some ideas around with the chief.
“What a cluster fuck”, he muttered to himself as he made his way back to the car. He glanced up worriedly, it looked like snow was going to hit them finally whether that was a good thing or bad remained to be seen. So far this unsub was three steps ahead of them and had taken out their best hunter.