Idle Hands Are an Angel’s Plaything by mattzerella_sticks
Three cases - man kills wife. woman steals from where she works. employee kills their boss. They shouldn’t have anything in common. Except all three suspects claim they have no memory of committing the crimes they’re charged with. Sounds exactly like a case for the Winchesters.
Three days investigating, however, and they’re drawing blanks. Nothing adds up in any way that makes these crimes align into a neat box. Dean’s ready to call it quits, but humors Sam and Cas by agreeing to interview a few more people. However he soon starts to believe this town has something pertaining to their expertise when he suddenly finds himself its next victim.
Will they manage to defeat the monster without Dean doing something he’ll regret? Or will the only way to free himself is to let go of the chains he forced himself into long ago?
For the @supernaturaltropecelebration and their amazing Halloween Challenge!
Kevin grunts in his sleep, trying to wake up from the strangest nightmare. Blinking into consciousness he finds himself in a different position than when he fell asleep. Instead of his eyes adjusting to see his beige ceiling, he stares into the bloodshot stare of his wife Darla. His hands at her throat, grip slack.
“Darla?” he whispers, hands moving to her shoulders. Shaking, he asks again, “Darla?” More panicked, twitching fingers returned to check for his wife’s pulse. A sob crawls from his chest as he realizes nothing beats against his touch.
“No, Darla,” he whispers, rolling off her and collapsing back onto his side of the bed. “How did this happen…”
His hands stay frozen at his sides until he works through his shock and calls the police.
————————————————————————–
The Impala pulls into the diner parking lot, fitting in between a rusted truck and a Prius. Dean sneers at the latter car as he gets out, “Fuckin’ douche mobiles…”
“Dean,” Sam sighs from the other side, “focus.”
“Why? We have jack shit anyway.”
“There’s got to be something tying these crimes together!”
“Yeah, humanity ,” he scoffs, leaning against his Baby’s hood, “Listen, I’m not sure if there’s anything happening here that falls under ourjurisdiction, okay?”
Sam rolls his eyes, dialing up the softness in his features. Resembling more labradoodle than man, he asks, “Can we go over it all one last time?”
Dean tries to resist, but he succumbs to his brother’s masterful manipulation. “Fine. But let’s at least grab a booth before it gets too crowded, okay?”
Nodding, Sam moves away from the car and over to the diner. Dean turns to Castiel, the angel perched on the hood as well. A silent observer to their bickering. “You think there’s any foundation under the house Sam’s building?”
Head skewed to the side, Castiel squints at him. “While these events are muddled and pedestrian… you two have had less to go off of.”
“Yeah,” Dean sighs, tapping Baby’s roof twice, “we have.” He pushes himself off, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. “Come on, otherwise Sam’ll order us all salads.”
“Well you can order your damned fries when we get inside.”
