Crazy Meets Crazy: Dead Feathered Friends

[littletreetopper]

Fandoms: Grimm, Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: General
Words: 757
Summary: In which Dean gets crabby, Sam feels kind of bad, and Nick feels the need to know everything about everything.
Warnings: None.
Notes: Once again, unbeta'd.
ao3 | ff | lj

 

“So what you’re saying,” Dean said, leaning his back against the Impala’s temporary fill-in, “is you can see monsters even when they look just like regular people.”

“Right,” Nick answered. “It’s…a little crazy. And you two are hunters? I didn’t know there were other people who knew about all this.”

“Well, we didn’t know about you,” Sam said. “But yeah, there’s others like us.”

Nick nodded, taking a moment to digest. “So…if you aren’t the brothers that went on that killing spree, who was that?”

“Long story,” Dean said.

Sam exchanged a glance with his brother, a silent conversation passing between them that lasted only a few seconds. When it was over, Sam asked, “Have you ever heard of Leviathans?"

Nick’s brow furrowed. “No, never. But I’m fairly new at this. I might be able to find something about it. Why?”

“Those are what stole our appearances,” Sam explained. Dean reached into the car and took a swig of whiskey, earning him a simultaneously disapproving and worried look from Sam. “They were unleashed from Purgatory.”

Dean laughed humorlessly at Nick’s expression. “Another longer story.”

There was a moment of silence that turned into several moments that dragged and dragged.

“Well,” Dean said, putting on a smile, “if you’re not gonna arrest us, then I think it’s time we head out. Didn’t realize you were BFF’s with a Blutbad.”

“What, you guys’ve never come across a supernatural creature that you got along with?”

Dean’s jaw clenched and Sam quickly covered, “The monsters we’ve met have all been dicks.” Not a lie—Cas didn’t qualify as a monster.

Nick gave them a speculative look. “Is there something I’m missing? I mean, I realize we just met, but I’d say we have a fair amount in common—“

“You really don’t wanna know,” Dean warned.

“Don’t wanna know what?”

“Whatever you’ve seen, whatever you think is so bad—it’s not. It’s the tip of the tip of the friggin’ iceberg. And you donot want to get anywhere near it.”

“Okay…so tell me. Then I can know to stay away from it. Whatever ‘it’ is.”

“Listen, Nick,” Sam said. “You just knowing about it puts you in danger. The last thing we want is to have to add another person to our body count.”

“I think I can handle it,” the cop said. And damn if Dean didn’t want to throw him against the car and shake him until he understood.

“Look, buddy. My guess is you haven’t even ganked an every day demon yet, much less any of the big league guys. Maybe you didn’t even know they existed if you’re new to this. But let me tell you, even those black eyed sons of bitches don’t like what we’ve got on our plate right now.”

“Okay, so demons are real.” Nick would digest that later. “But there’s something you’re not telling me. I don’t need the details, but don’t lie to me.”

Dean glanced at the ground, smiling humorlessly. “Alright, Burkhardt. Here it is: Angels. Warriors of God. Feathery wings and everything. They’re real. The apocalypse was supposed to go down awhile ago, but that didn’t happen. The whole of heaven wasn’t to happy about that, so they started a civil war. The good side got desperate—they didn’t think they’d win—so one of ‘em swallowed Purgatory. That didn’t work to well and everything got put back where it belonged except for the Leviathans. And now they’ve got some sort of master plan that we don’t know and we’ve got to stop them. And nobody lived happily ever after. The end.”

Nick couldn’t find any words in the silence that followed.

Sam added, “The angel that took in Purgatory—he was…he was our Blutbad.”

“He was a whole lot more than a Blutbad,” Dean muttered, voice dangerously low.

“I didn’t…I didn’t realize…whoa."

“We just lost somebody again last week,” Sam said. “The Leviathans found out he was helping us. And before him, it was a guy…he was like a father to us.”

“He doesn’t need our whole freakin’ life story,” Dean snapped. “Let’s go.”

“Look, in case something comes up—here’s my number,” Sam said as he scribbled it down on the back of a receipt. “And Dean’s is underneath it. Don’t let anybody call these or even know who they belong to, alright?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Nick was still stunned from Dean’s little outburst. “I’ll call if I find anything about the Leviathans too.”

Sam offered a sad half smile. “Thanks.”