For Whom The Bell Tolls (Season Finale)

The following characters are cleared for this episode:
Alexander Colt
Elenna Fee
Georgina Gilmore
Richard Ingram
Romulus Remington

Blood. Blood everywhere, splattered on the walls, pooling on the floor.

Screaming. But not really, more like moaning, hissing, whimpering. It sounded like—not that he knew from personal experience or anything (maybe? hopefully?)—someone who was tortured long after they’d worn out their voice screaming.

The room was white but for the blood, crisp and cold and merciless. Like a hospital. There were…people. Not doctors. Not nurses. More like butchers, wearing suits and sunglasses and rubber gloves.

It was dark, with spears of bright light screwing up his vision just enough that he couldn’t see anything, but eventually he made out the faces:

They had no faces. Mannequins. Plastic, faceless faces. They moved like people, but had no faces.

The guy (girl?) they had on the table had no face, either. Now it made sense, why it couldn’t scream—even as they poked and prodded and sliced and diced and peeled and injected and dug and stabbed and maimed and—

It had no mouth.

Romulus Remington wasn’t actually in this dream. He usually was in his dreams, either strapped to the table or one of the sadists doing the carving. One thing could be said for his visions: at least they made sense, sometimes.

Rome was watching the dream play out this time, unable or unwilling to move to help either side. That didn’t really bother him, in the scheme of things. What bothered him was that when he caught his reflection off a shiny metal door, his own face was not what stared back at him.

It was Rawson.

“Raws!” Rome cried, sitting up.

He was in his bed at Tex’s. Panting, shirt soaked in sweat. Crying, probably. But, God, that was nothing new, whatever. At least he wasn’t ready to puke this time.

Once he stopped shaking, Rome rolled over to grab his phone from the bedside table. 4:47AM. A new record. Super.

By now, Rome was used to being the last one up and the first one awake in the entire compound every day, except for the odd sleeping binge his body insisted on every five days or so. He put on a smile and said it was because he didn’t like to miss anything, but it was more than that, even now, even after all this time, and he was afraid his friends were beginning to see through the lies and the constant stream of Red Bull, if they hadn’t already. But it was stupid, really, and he was embarrassed about it: they had all been safe and healthy and—dare he think it—happy for so long, that he felt wrong, guilty, even, for his nightmares.

And they were getting worse.

Rome dragged himself out of bed, wanting so bad to go back to sleep but at the same time far too frightened.

Shoes, jacket, iPod. Rome made his way quietly downstairs, not bothering with any lights, and flicked on the coffee pot. He stretched while he waited for it to brew, and drank a glass of water. Then a cup of coffee, with about four spoonfuls of sugar.

Then he went for a run.

The grounds of Tex’s safehouse were extensive, and there was a great walking path that skirted the farmlands and few houses that were in the area. Rome would occasionally catch sight of other runners, MILFs in short-shorts and a few younger things in tiny spaghetti strap tops, but never this early. Probably for the best. Kept him out of the way of temptation, which, since they were officially trying to stay off the radar of anything and everything, was a good thing.

There was a short section of the path that ran alongside the main road for about half a mile or so. It was so rare that cars came down this road, anyway, and Rome was usually only out here very early, that he had literally only ever seen one car while he was out running—ever.

So the sound of an engine coming down the road behind him actually sent him into a bit of a panic. Should he get off the road? Would that look suspicious? Who was driving this road at five in the freaking morning if they weren’t here to kill him?

As it was, Rome played it casual: his instinctive approach to everything. He put his head down and kept running, not even daring to look at the car. Headlights washed over him and a chill broke out over his spine, but he kept running. Even as the car went to pass him he made no reaction. And then the car slowed down, but still nothing. Maybe they were being extra-careful not to hit the jogging dude, that was sure nice of them.

But, nope.

This car was definitely following him.

Rome’s next reaction was abrasive, for all that he wasn’t carrying a weapon of any kind (stupid, stupid, stupid). He stopped, wheeled around, and threw out his arms at the headlights, and gave a shout. “Hey! What’s your problem, man? Can't a guy go for a jog at five in the morning?”

Rome’s heart jumped into his throat at the sight of the green Camaro he recognized all too well. He couldn’t help the giddy laugh or the unbidden tears even as he wondered if this was some kind of trick, or if SWORD had somehow gotten a hold of a car that looked just like his—

The car stopped. The driver got out.

“Rawson?”

Rawson Remington had been white-knuckling the wheel for so long now he almost couldn't let it go. It had been a long drive, and he was lucky he was still conscious. In fact, he wouldn't have even stopped had it not been for his bracelet, which started humming pleasantly as its mate was near, without which he wouldn't have recognized the figure jogging by the side of the road. First of all, Rome didn't run, not for exercise, anyway, he hated it, and certainly not at five in the fucking morning. Also, he had apparently lost the last of the youthful fat around his face and midsection, had grown more lean and strong like--like him. Which was as much horrifying as it was flattering.

Has it really only been ten months? Rawson wondered as Rome turned around and mad-dogged him before going still at the sight of the car. Rome looked like an entirely different person.

Raws had to practically peel himself out of the seat, using the door to haul himself to his feet.

"Rawson?" Rome said, and it struck something primal deep down in the heart Raws pretended not to have, the part that was instinctively the big brother for all that he was only like twenty-two minutes older than his twin.

"Romey," he replied. "Thank God."

There was a silence, wherein Rome looked like he was battling between fear, disbelief, joy, and rage. But the pause was brief, and then Rome was charging at him, had wrapped his arms around him, and Raws was leaning into his brother, gripping him a little desperately, smelling him, and they were both laughing and crying and Rome was trying to talk, alternating between trying to look at him and trying to hug him.

"Son of bitch, you're here!" Rome was saying. "You dipshit, I thought you were dead! What the frack is wrong with you, huh?"

Raws managed a wry grin. "Oh, God, get off me. Personal space," he said, but his hands were whiteknuckling his brother's jacket as tightly as they had been gripping the steering wheel before.

"I swear to God, Raws," Rome went on, trying to looked pissed off but unable to hide the grin. "I don't know whether to punch you or kiss you, you asshole. Jesus."

"I'll take a raincheck on the punching," Rawson said, because his knees were beginning to give out on him. "I--there's--" How to say this? "I didn't want to get you involved, Romey, but I didn't know where else to--"

"Raws? Shit, you're bleeding!" Rome cried, and suddenly there were hands on him, tearing his jacket open and prodding at the wound. "Where you hit, you idiot, what's wrong?" he insisted, but that was when Rawson's legs well and truly gave out, and Rome was forced to catch him. He managed it, to his credit, apparently having got a lot stronger since Raws saw him last, and his twin deposited him in the back seat of the vehicle.

"Hey, hey. You're not driving my car," Raws protested, batting at him weakly.

"How far did you drive like this, you moron?" Rome demanded, pressing into his personal space. "What got you?"

Well, he was going to find out soon enough. "Werewolf."

It was kind of sad seeing Rome's reaction so clearly. He tensed, though he didn't move away, and his eyes grew wide with a kind of haunted dread.

"Not a bite," Raws insisted. "I swear. But got me good with those claws. I just need to get patched up before I go back out after...it..."

Rome had put a hand on him, in that vulnerable spot where neck and shoulder met, and sent him a hard look that was as warm as it was daring him to say anything different. "When we go back out after it, Raws."

Raws bit his lip. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," he said, though he didn't really mean it, didn't want to mean it.

Now Rome was pressing their foreheads together, always more comfortable with physical contact than he was, but Raws got the impression that Rome was only being so affectionate to keep from wringing his neck, if how hard he pressed was any indication. "You are such a fracking idiot," Rome said.

Rawson grinned.

"Let's get you to the house, okay? Get you cleaned up. How long has it been since you slept?"

"I could ask you the same thing, you noob. Be easy on the car."

Rome looked at the dashboard. "Raws, you're running on fumes and there's blood all over the seats. What exactly am I going to do to your stupid, ugly-ass junker that hasn't already been done?"

"He doesn't mean it, baby," Raws said, stroking the seat beside him.

"Jesus, you really did lose a lot of blood. Tell me, the werewolf hit you on the head, too?"

"Frack you, get off my case," Rawson grumbled as Rome put her in gear and headed home.

Lenna had heard Rome leave the house, it was insanely early so nothing would make her leave her bed. It was too cosy in her bed, but then suddenly she heard a car outside. There was no car suppose to come. Lenna sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes.

“Lenna! Georgie! Richard!” Rome shouted from downstairs. Lenna check the clock, it was not even six yet.

“This better be important.” Lenna grabbed the sweater and went downstairs. Lenna stumbled into the kitchen and then she felt like someone hit her right in the face. She never thought a lot about him, but there he was.

“Rawson?! Christus!” Lenna didn’t hesitate took the bottle of holy water that was standing around in basically every corner and dumped it pretty much over Rawson. “Georgie get the salt and something silver!”

Lenna saw that Rome wasn’t at all suspicious but one had to think straight, what if it was not Rawson. He had been gone for so long, nearly ten months ago that he had vanished overnight. And even Lenna was happy for Rome to have his brother back, she didn’t want him to get hurt again… or lose her best friend now that he had his brother again. This was so weird to see him again.

"Lenna!" Rome admonished, glaring at his friend as he eased his brother down into an armchair. "Jesus, Lennie, he's not possessed, he's hurt! Richard, get--" Rome said, raising his voice as he rose, only to see Richard already standing in front of him.

"Right here. What's up?"

"Oh, sorry, man. He--this is my brother, Rawson. Raws, this is Richard. He's a doctor--"

"Paramedic," Richard growled.

"Whatever. He was lanced by a werewolf--no bite--do you think you can help him?"

Richard crouched down in front of Rawson, pulling open his shirt to inspect the wound. "They'll need cleaning and re-bandaging. Maybe a few stitches--"

Lenna reached across Rome to touch a piece of silver against Rawson's skin, but Rome snatched her hand out of the way. "Lenna! Stop it! He's wearing a silver bracelet!" he snapped, pointing at the matching wolf bracelet linked around Rawson's right wrist. "What is your problem?"

Lenna recoiled, looking hurt, but Rawson gripped his arm. "No, Rome, it's okay." He flashed a grin up at his brother and winked at Elenna. "At least she's being smart about this." He took the silver-holy water-salt shot glass she offered and downed it in one gulp. "See? Now everyone's happy. You could cut me to make sure I bleed, but, well," he motioned to his bleeding chest with a humorless grin. "I really just want to sleep, actually," he said, his eyelids drooping.

"Maybe we should get him to the couch, then," Richard said. "This patch-job may take a while."

"Good," Rawson said, "because I've got something to say that you all need to hear."

Rawson felt exposed like this.

In all fairness, he was lying half-naked on his back on the kitchen table with five people (all but one of them basically strangers) staring at him. Rome was the attention-whore: it just made Rawson uncomfortable.

They offered morphine, but he didn't want it. Rome was pinning his shoulders to the table while this Richard guy was pinning his skin back together.

Tex seemed a businesswoman, and gauged him with an appraising stare, but at least she waited until Richard had stitched, cleaned, and bandaged him, and Rome had sat him up and thrown a blanket around his shoulders and given him a cup of warm tea to drink before she asked him:

"So did you get it?"

"Tex!" Rome cried, standing up.

"My God, will you stop that?" Rawson said, reaching out of the blanket to backhand his brother in the family jewels (but missed, maybe intentionally). "You think you're being protective and cute, but you're actually being a douchebag." He fixed Tex with an equally serious glare. "No, I didn't."

Tex nodded curtly. "And we got one more night of full moon on him. Or her?"

Rawson nodded, breaking eye contact and looking down. "I really don't want you guys involved. And not just because I want the bounty on the wolf fangs to myself," he added with a mirthless grin. He paused, then, for a minute, half-expected Rome, or the talkative blonde girl, to interrupt, but everyone was quiet, still focused on him. "But you guys probably should be involved," he said.

He sighed, then, but spoke. They had a right to know, and this was a stupid time to get sentimental and protective of emotions and crap. "You know the wolf. His name is--was, if that makes it easier--Caleb. Caleb Daly."

He let that sink in. Georgie looked shocked, but Elenna and Rome looked uncomfortable, and Richard looked grim.

"I--I know," Elenna said, after Rome gave her a hard look. "I, well, I guessed. I didn't think he would..."

"You knew?!" Georgie cried, rounding on Elenna, "And you didn't think that might be important?"

"I knew," Tex said, "so sit your ass down, girl. Even freaks deserve a chance. I--" she shook her head, "look, it don't matter now. He's gone off the reservation, gotta put him down."

Rawson nodded. "Especially since he killed the hunters he was working with. One of them was that FBI chick..."

"What? Aly?!" Elenna cried. "He killed Aly."

Rawson nodded. "I'm sorry. There was another--uh, victim. A girl, red hair."

"Son of a bitch," Tex breathed, and took a seat. "He got Lily, too." She crossed herself.

"He gave me this present," he motioned to the chest wound, "up in Lawrence, which was where I lost his trail. And...and I knew I needed help. I'm sorry I brought you into this."

Rome wasn't prepared for this. Well, he knew Caleb was a werewolf, Lenna had told him.

But he wasn't prepared for this. For the news that the traitor had killed their people, his people, his team, part of the X-Men. Jesus H. Christ. He and Aly had made love, and as much as people thought Rome never made emotional connections with his bedmates, he did. And Lily, she was an experienced psychic, could maybe have helped him, had tried to help him...

Rome wasn't prepared for when his fist went through the wall by where the keys hung. Neither, apparently, was anyone else, who looked at him sharply.

"That rat bastard!" Rome snarled. "That two-faced team-killing-fucktard! I swear to God, it will be a fracking pleasure to shoot him so full of silver we can use him as a doorstop. I..." A wave of memories, remembered anger flashed through him: Lenna telling him about Caleb being a werewolf, and Caleb trying to shift his own guilt onto one of the people he cared most about in the whole freaking world.

"I'm gonna kill him," Rome growled again, beginning to massage his fist and, glancing at the wall, "Sorry about the wall," he grumbled.

Lenna didn’t look at anyone, she should have done something against Caleb the moment she was certain that he is a werewolf. She could have saved Aly and Lilly.

“I’m sorry I should have said something to all of you. I could try scrying for him. I practiced a little as long I have something from him.”

“No Brownie, before we find him we need a plan what to do, why he fell off the wagon.” Georgie said.

“Georgie, he was not a drunk that started drinking again. He is a werewolf that kills people! We gotta stop him. Werewolves are nasty! Very nasty.” Lenna looked hotly at Georgie as if for a moment she didn’t think that Georgie knew how bad werewolves are.

It is my fault they died, because I was too much of a wuss to kill Caleb when I had the chance! I basically killed Aly and Lilly.

“So why are you after him Rawson?”

Rome interposed himself between Rawson and Lenna, blurting out “he's already answered that, knock it off” in a tone harsher than was necessary.

“If every could just stop shouting and calm down,” Richard spoke up, taking care to stand in the middle of the room to get their attention. It struck him just how young they all were. And now they were being forced to hunt down one of their friends. That wasn’t going to end well. Hesitation or guilt. Neither of which would be good outcomes. Richard didn’t know Caleb, hadn’t even heard about him until today. So whatever happened, he should be there to pull the trigger. In the meantime, the way the others were fretting and fuming, this hunt was doomed before it started.

“If you lot don’t focus and treat this like any other hunt then I’d be better of tracking him alone. And you all know how bad an idea that would be.” Yeah, it was a stupid suggestion, but hopefully it would snap them back to business.

“No, no, no, that is out of the question.” Georgie turned to Richard. “You’re not going after him alone.” She was actually considering going after Caleb as well. She hadn’t been particularly close to him anyway, and he had killed two innocent people who had been part of their group, and she hated when that happened, so right now she actually wouldn’t hesitate to get the job done if someone would ask her to, but she decided not to mention it since the atmosphere was quite tense at the moment.
Her eyes wandered to Rawson. She knew that Rome was overly protective about his brother, and she got the point, but there was something not right about it. She could feel it. And after discovering her power she knew that when she felt something, it wasn’t just random but rather something she received from the others around her, and right now she felt not only various emotions at the same but something weird coming from Rome’s brother. She didn’t trust that feeling at all, but she also knew that mentioning it would only upset Rome and he wouldn’t believe her anyway, he was way too stubborn and obviously very glad to see his twin, so telling him that she had a strange feeling about him would probably not be the best idea- at least not while Rawson was listening.
He had noticed that Georgie eyed him suspiciously, and she didn’t even bother hiding that fact. She knew she shouldn’t be too hasty in judging him, after all, he was still Rome’s brother, but that didn’t mean that she would ignore the strange feeling she had about him.

For the first time in a long time, in way too long, like, why-wasn't-he-insane-already-long-time, he genuinely got a solid ten hours of uninterrupted, nightmare-free and vision-free rest. He had laid down next to his brother upstairs in his room at Tex's, after spending an entire day grilling Rawson about where he had been and why he had come back, and it was barely eight o'clock or some ridiculously early time to go to bed, and he slept until Tex poked her head into the room at 6:00 AM.

"Thought you was dead," she said with a smile as she stepped into the room.

"Hmm?" Rome asked sleepily, stretching and rubbing his eyes.

"I mean, you actually slept."

Rome looked at the clock. "I'll be damned," he said. Maybe it was just Rawson's presence, but that sounded pretty gay (though he admittedly thought nothing of sharing a bed with him). Maybe it had something to do with the bracelets, which hummed pleasantly from being in close contact with their mates (and, okay, again, gay).

Tex's eyes went to his brother. "How's he doing?"

"He's doing fine," Rawson said, sleep-slurred but awake.

Rome wriggled and got up on one elbow as Tex checked the wounds on Rawson's chest. "They're holding," she said. "But you should probably--"

"Good," Rawson said, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"I was going to say," Tex snapped, grabbing Rawson's uninjured shoulder, "that you should take it easy for a few more days until they have a chance to--"

"Oh, and let that trail go cold?" Rawson retorted. Part of Rome was impressed that he had the stones to interrupt Tex--twice--and part of him (the greater part) pitied him for what an idiot he was.

"We can send others out," Tex told him. "Rome can take Lenna and Georgie and Richard with him."

"Umm," Rome said, "all due respect, Texie, but I'm not letting this chucklehead out of my sight again."

Tex looked back and forth between the twins. They weren't identical by a long shot, and generally their moods and behaviors only made them seem even more disparate. But right now they were both giving her the same hard look, and if Rome's stubbornness was anything to go by, well--

Tex threw up her hands. "Fine, fine. You do what you like." But here she fixed them with her own glare: "But I had enough Hunters lost to me. So don't you go addin' to my gray hair, see?"

Rome nodded, patting her hand. It was hard to remember that cold-as-ice Tex Mosely cared. She cared at lot.

"Anyway, I'm comin' with you."

Rome raised his eyebrows. "Far as Lawrence, anyway. Been a while since I seen my sister. And I should have introduced you to her a while ago. She's got the Sight as well, may be able to help you."

With that, she stood, as if everything was decided. "Y'all get your asses out of bed and breakfasted. Spent all night making silver bullets for y'all. I'll get the girls up."

“Elenna it’s time to wake up.” Tex said from the door not going further in the room because she was already on the way to Georgie’s room, but when Tex had gone in Lenna’s room she would have seen that the girl was not in bed. Lenna had sat all night and reread all her notes about werewolves and every little thought she had about Caleb. She knew he was very quick in making her a werewolf, well no she didn’t know or more didn’t remember but Rome had told her and so had Georgie. Lenna sighed.

Why is it bugging me so much that Rawson is back? It’s not like Rome and I have any special relationship.

Lenna got up and took her duffle and went downstairs.

“Drink this!” Tex ordered, Lenna looked confused at the silver shot glass she knew it contained salty holy water but she never had to drink it in the morning.

“Why?”

“Because you are the first downstairs and are actually awake, you are either very eager to kill a werewolf –which would also be very unlike you- or you are not yourself. So drink up!” Tex looked stern at Lenna until the young girl drunk the shot without a flinch. “Happy?”

“Yes, why are you so much awake it is just six in the morning.”

“I never slept. Anyway when are we leaving? I’m not riding in Rawson poison green car. I’m driving my own car.”

"Romey, you don't need three of those things for a five-hour car ride," Rawson scolded at the collection of Red Bull cans that littered the front of the car. He was clearly just bent out of shape that Rome was driving his car, which Rome found hilarious, and he laughed as he popped the top and took a swig.

"Oh, man, bro, you're kidding. I need three of these just to bring the world into focus," he bragged sarcastically.

"I already tried telling him he's going to send himself into cardiac arrest," Richard grumbled from the back seat.

"Yeah, but no one listens to you, old man," Rome teased. "At least he managed to leave his Mid-life-Crisis-mobile behind on this trip and grace us with his company in the car."

"Really starting to make me wish I hadn't," Richard said.

"Oh good, it's not just me, then?" Rawson added, as he and Richard exchanged a knowing almost-grin.

"Oh, whatever." Rome let them win that round and touched the bluetooth in his ear. "Let's see what's going on in the Bumblebee--hey, chica!" he said as Elenna answered. "What have I told you about driving and talking on the phone at the same time?"

"Tex is driving," she said, ignoring him trying to be funny. "She said her sister's house is hard to find." Rome saw the car bob and weave in the road. "She also cusses a lot when she drives," Elenna added over Georgie shrieking in the background for Tex to keep her eyes on the road.

"God help us all," Rome said, pressing down on the gas so he was a bit further ahead of her. "Okay, so you girls want to drop her off while we start getting a look around? Raws lost the trail at some lake nearby--"

"Clinton Lake."

"Clinton Lake," Rome repeated. "Call me back when you drop your package?"

"Yeah, if we live that long," Lenna grumbled, and the line went dead in Rome's ear. He tossed back another swallow of Red Bull--he didn't like the taste, really, but he needed it more to stave off headaches--which he wasn't sure were due to his psychic sludge or to caffeine withdrawals, anymore--so he drank them like water. Well, he also drank water, plenty of water: he wasn't stupid.

But what got lost in all this bickering, Red Bull, sarcasm, and bad driving was that they hadn't been on a proper Hunt in over five months. He hadn't seen his brother in like, practically a year, and here he was. Rome hadn't gotten a decent night of sleep in two years like he'd had last night.

So this felt pretty damn good.

Texas Mosely pulled into her sister's driveway and honked: her usual greeting only because it fussed her sister the most. Her house was so...suburban. And normal. She had clients who thought she was one of those Hollywood Psychics. It was beyond weird.

On the one hand, Tex was just jealous. Missouri was always better at being inclusive, at bridging the gap between the mundane and the supernatural. And she gave most people what they wanted to hear, because that was how she made money.

It was only the people who were already involved in the supernatural that she told what they needed to hear.

For example, there was a Lexus in the driveway, at which Tex couldn't help but roll her eyes. A rental car, looked like, but a Lexus just the same. Tex wondered what kind of client flew in from out of state to see her sister when any Joe Psychic could tell him his wife wasn't cheating on him (even if she was).

"Well, I guess if she's with a client we ought behave ourselves."

"Didn't you tell her you were coming?" Georgie asked.

"Yeah, she knows," Tex said, frowning. "Must be important, I guess. Psychics don't usually forget birthdays and when their sister's comin' to visit." She shrugged, grabbing her bag from the trunk and going to the front door.

Predictably, it opened just before Tex had raised her hand to the doorbell.

"Texas, honey!"

"Missouri, baby!"

Tex wasn't often this informal and outwardly obvious with her affection, but one had to make exceptions for one's kin, though she was aware that the girls were staring at her almost as if she'd been possessed. "Well come on in, girls!" Tex scolded. "She ain't gonna bite."

"Now, Texie, don't scare the poor darlins. Elenna, Georgina, I'm so pleased to meet you," she said, gently hugging each girl in turn to her enormous bosom. "I'm Missouri, Texas' sister. Won't you come inside? There's lemonade and cookies freshly made. I've just finished up with Dr. Smith-Wesson here and we were just sitting down to lunch," she said, gesturing at a dark-haired boy who stood up as they entered the room. He nodded politely at them, but Tex's attention was soon drawn to her sister, who immediately bustled about the room putting a four-course luncheon together of cold chicken, cole slaw, potato salad, and cornbread. "Dr. Smith-Wesson, this is my sister Tex, and her young friends Elenna and Georgina. Anything y'all feel comfortable talking about you may say in front of each other, everyone here knows what's out there," she said, her obnoxiously Southern Charm way of letting them know that this Smith-Wesson fellow was aware of Hunter life, if not a Hunter himself.

"Howdy," Tex said, nodding back at the boy. "I'm having tea instead," she announced to her sister, going to the pitcher of sweet tea in the refrigerator. "Anyone else?"

“I’d like some, thanks”, Georgie said politely while she and Lenna sat down.

“I’m starving”, Lenna mumbled, holding her belly.

Georgie shot her a warning glance, trying to make her behave, but Lenna was her typical self.

“That’s all right, Sweetie, we have plenty of food”, Missouri said friendly as she put some of the food on two plates and handed them over to them. Georgie stared at that huge pile of carbohydrates in front of her, she didn’t want to eat any of that, but on the other hand she didn’t want to be rude and offend Missouri’s hospitality, so she smiled back at her as she took the plate. Lenna already dug in as if this was the last meal she would ever eat, and she completely ignored Georgie’s warning glance.
Georgie shook her head quietly, and then her eyes met with the young man. He sure was handsome, very handsome in fact, but there was something she never did when someone caught her interest; she never showed the fact that someone had her interest. She didn’t mind if others showed their interest for her- if they weren’t too obnoxious or annoying- but she had her standards, and she liked to hide the fact that she was attracted to someone, so she rather pretended to be indifferent. Just like now, as she didn’t show any sign of interest in that young doctor. Well, she did watch him thoroughly though, but only with a raised eyebrow.

“Was the travel okay so far?”, Missouri asked out of politeness, looking at the young ladies. “I know, driving with my sister is always an adventure.”

“She cursed a lot”, Georgie said dryly. “But I’m quite used to it, thanks to Rome and Lenna.”

The young man chuckled. “I wasn’t aware that there are hunters left who don’t find cursing appealing.”

Before Georgie could make a sarcastic remark, Lenna already said with her mouth full: “She’s from Boston’s upper class, you know, where people still have sticks far up their-“

“Thank you, Elenna, for that valuable information”, Georgie interrupted her friend sarcastically.

“Sorry, I’m just honest.” Lenna grinned innocently.

Georgie rolled her eyes and took a sip of the tea. Her eyes met with the doctor’s again, and this time a tiny smile crossed her lips, but she quickly turned her head to Tex and Missouri and pretended that she paid attention to them.

By the time they reached Kansas, Alex was not only bored out of his mind, but ridiculously uncomfortable and mentally running through the many ways he could improve this situation with one of the many weapons that were close-at-hand. They passed an intriguing billboard and he sat up.

“Hey, we should go see that,” he said from the far back seat of the van, and everyone in the van turned to look at him. “And you should probably keep your eyes on the road, Command.” Holyfield rolled his eyes and went back to driving.

“See what, Colt?” Justice asked, already sounding like he regretted the question.

“I dunno, that sign said the world’s largest ball of twine was around here somewhere. It’d beat all these fields…”

“We don’t have time for sight-seeing,” Justice grumbled, and turned back around. After huffing a sigh, he returned to slouching in the seat and staring out the window at field after field of crops. An hour later, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“LOOK!” he shouted, and then snorted a laugh as Holyfield nearly drove the car into a fence. “Sorry, I thought I saw something,” he said while the others glared at him. The next hour, he started in on the time-honored tradition of bored passengers everywhere.

“Are we there yet?”

“Colt, I swear to God…”

“Shouldn’t swear to God, Holyfield. I don’t think he listens to your type anyway. Lucifer, on the other hand…”

“One more word and you’re the practice target for training for the next six months.” Alex grinned, because they’d never catch him.

“I was only jokin’,” he muttered, “I don’t think Lucifer’d listen to you, either.”

“I’ve changed my mind. Justice, please inform headquarters that Colt will be on guard duty in the cells indefinitely, effective immediately after this mission.” Alex snapped his teeth shut on whatever he was going to say. Guard duty? Inside? INDEFINITELY?! “We will be there in an hour. Does everyone remember their part of the mission? Natalie?” Holyfield asked. The woman who’d been sitting in the middle seat, completely ignoring the bickering in favor of reading a magazine, looked up.

“Attempt to bring them in using this ‘Romulus Remington’ guy, yeah. Although judging from his track record, we could dress Colt here up as a girl and the plan would work just as well,” she said boredly, looking over the seat at Alex, who frowned.

“Hey, Command, why’d we have to bring this poor excuse for a bloodsucker along for the ride?” he asked.

“Oh, I offered. I knew it would piss you off,” Natalie answered before Holyfield or Justice could intercede.

“Because Remington has a weakness for pretty girls. We would have sent you in dressed as a woman, but we need you on a roof in case things get out of hand. Might still make you wear a skirt though. Just in case Natalie needs backup,” Justice added. “You’d make a very pretty girl.”

“You uh… you do realize I’m sitting back here with all the weapons, right?” Alex asked, though he recognized the futility of this fight. He was outnumbered by two bosses and a vampire with a bad attitude. This would end only in sadness for exactly one person in this vehicle. No one answered him, Natalie having gone back to her magazine and Holyfield and Justice trying to navigate to their motel. When they pulled up, Alex unbuckled and flipped over the back of his seat to bound out the double back doors, taking out Natalie’s bag as he went. When she came around to get it, he suddenly found a threatening finger in his face, backed up by five and a half feet of angry, blonde-haired vampire.

“If you would like to see any future missions, you will not touch my things. Clear?” she hissed at him as he stood perfectly still and looked down at her.

“Crystal,” he said, leaving out the sass. This woman was scary. And then she grinned, and patted him on the cheek.

“Good boy,” she said, and sauntered off. He huffed out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and went to get his own key from Holyfield, muttering empty threats about wooden stakes and dead mens' blood under his breath.

Rome's shoes crunched gravel as he got out of the car, breathing the cold lake air in deeply.

"Well according to this little piece of black magic--" Rawson said as he got out of the car holding Rome's smartphone.

"Raws, it's not black magic, it's just a phone."

"Right," Rawson frowned, shook it, so Rome snatched the device back from his brother.

Then Rome looked at his brother again. "God damn it, Raws. You took the freaking sling off!" He turned to Richard for support, who shrugged as if to say, 'He's your idiot--I mean, brother.'

Rawson also shrugged, but more defiantly, and with a small grin, so Rome narrowed his eyes but looked down at his phone.

"Oh, goodie. Steve Jackson. A 'wild animal attack,' my favorite," he said, unable to make his voice sound any more sarcastic. "Vic missing a heart. Sounds like our...wolf." He didn't want to say 'Caleb.' "Found on the road here. Umm, wait, where is this highway?" Rome consulted a his map app and looked around. "That's the road that goes on the opposite shore. Should we have a look around? Does anyone know if werewolves swim? Lenna would know. Rich? Raws?"

Rome looked up, only to find his companions had wandered away.

"Rome, come here. You may want to look at this," Richard was saying, waving him over.

Rome followed. As a rule he disliked nature, and wanted to keep his nice trainers from getting muddy, so he kept his distance.

"Footprints," Richard said.

Rome wrinkled his nose. "Um. Red wing?" he asked, pointing at the clear markings in the footprint. "That could be anyone. Werewolves don't change shape," he clarified. "I mean, the 'wolf' thing is like an exaggeration. Were you looking for wolf prints?"

Rawson rolled his eyes and knelt down, plucking something up between his fingers. "Here," he said (and wobbled when he stood, imperceptibly, so Rome took his elbow, pretending to look closer).

"What's--oh."

"That's a pretty big chunk of hair," Raws said. "Not human, too big to be a normal wolf."

"And there's blood in it," Richard said. "Like it was torn out. Maybe there was a struggle?"

"Oh, great. So he's a pissed off werewolf." Using his phone again, Rome consulted the date. "We have one more full moon to bag him." He winced. "I mean, um, well, find him." It was still hard to separate the two--Caleb and the wolf. He was still human most of the time.

Rawson surprised him by putting a hand on his shoulder. "He's a monster, Romey," he said quietly, fixing him with a hard if sympathetic stare.

Rome nodded.

Richard decided to give the Remington’s a moment of peace and continued his search. But it had already crossed his mind that he’d very little idea what to look for. The conversation, such as it was, during the car journey hadn’t exactly been the ideal place to broach the subject. Rome still seemed a little shaken at having to hunt a former friend. Richard made a mental note to try and stay as close as possible so when the time came it was his finger on the trigger, not Rome’s.

Looking back Richard noticed the brothers seemed to be returning to the search. He walked back to join them.

“Ok, werewolves aren’t exactly my speciality. During the day are we dealing with a normal person, a psychopath or something in the middle? And what exactly is needed to take one of them down?”

Richard looked out over the lake for a moment, then another thought hit him.

“And more importantly, we know who he is and what he looks like. So why is it so important to get him tonight?”

Adam met Georgie’s gaze, although it was clear she wasn’t interested in him. He was probably making a fool of himself anyway, but talking about the supernatural like it was a normal thing made him feel completely strange.

He looked down at his plate, where the copious amounts of southern foods soaking in various sauces and gravies were touching. He couldn’t stand it when his food touched. He looked up at Missouri. “May I have an extra plate, please?”

She raised an eyebrow, but not so much as she did when Adam carefully separated his food into four neat piles on the two plates. He cleaned up the edges then started to eat.
He met Georgie’s gaze again as he took a drink of water. “I’m from Boston as well,” he said. “Lexington.”

“Sounds very…upper class,” Lenna said with a smirk in Georgie’s direction. A second later something whacked Adam hard in the shin.

“Ow! What the—“ he stammered, until he saw how bright red Georgie’s face had become. Lenna laughed but covered it up with a cough as Missouri fixed both her and Georgie with a glare. Adam, taught by years of little league to never rub it, ignored the pain in his shin and picked at his food.

“So, Adam,” Tex said, trying to diffuse the situation, “What do you do?”

Adam glanced around. “I work at MIT as a surgeon—the NROTC medical base.”

“Are you helping Missouri with something?” Lenna asked. “I always thought us hunters could use a doctor.” She gave Georgie a jab in the ribs, and Adam began to wonder if there was something he was missing about Georgie’s reaction to him.

“No, sorry,” Adam said. “Missouri’s been helping me figure some things out.” He scratched his ring finger with his thumb, where his wedding band used to be. “Nothing important.”
The teapot whistled, and as Text got up to fetch it Adam stood politely. Everyone at the table looked somewhat shocked at this display of courtesy, but his gaze again met Georgie’s. She was really quite pretty, if you liked blondes. Adam gazed back at her even after she turned away, and took a thoughtful pull from his inhaler.

Lenna had a really good time, she didn’t need Georgie’s powers to know that her friend was interested in the pretty doctor and actually wanted her to behave so that she looked good. Lenna couldn’t’ stop giggling.

“I think we should more often eat like this.” Lenna said happily over her southern meal her plate was nearly with the biggest pile. She could nearly forget that they were on a hunt and not a pleasure trip. It was so long that they have hunted that she nearly forgot how it was to hunt a monster, well a friend.

“It is a difficult choice you have to make dear.” Missouri said thoughtful looking and Lenna. Lenna nearly jumped off her set.

“What?” Lenna looked at Missouri as if she didn’t know what was happening to her. “You can read minds?”

“What else should a medium do?” Missouri asked in her sweet way.

“Um I don’t know. Don’t worry I’m not poking around in your head I just picked up your worries.” Missouri looked intensely at Lenna. “And you should not follow this pass you are thinking about, it is even more dangerous than hunting your monster.”

Lenna starred for a moment at Missouri before she got up and whispered very politely. “Please excuse me I lost my appetite.” She even left the house of Missouri and had popped up the hood of her car reading the notes she had about Caleb again. She knew mediums and she knew what they could see but she didn’t realise that Missouri would see what she was thinking about for a while and had decided -well she thought she had decided apparently not- not to go this way. She would not try to expand her powers even though when she knew a possibility how to. She hadn’t told anyone about the old text that explained how to combine the power of the elements, not even Rome the one person she normally told pretty much everything.
She opened the hidden department in the door cover and looked at the small gun and the magazine that contained silver bullets, it was still surreal to hunt the werewolf she knew since a year about it.

I would prefer if you hurry up flirting and lets go and get into our hotel. I wanna finish this job and…

Lenna couldn't even finish the thought but wishing Rawson to disappear again to have Rome for herself again. She just felt alone when everyone around her had someone… Richard was the other loner in their group.

Rome gave pause at Richard's words, which were, as usual, wise, and moderately annoying in their wiseness. He'd only just gotten to the point where he'd realized his dad was actually not a complete dorkus and occasionally said some smart stuff--and this felt essentially like that, where it was 100% right but kind of grating because of its rightness.

Because, yes, they could really find and take down Caleb whenever they found him, as his lycanthropy was already confirmed.

Rome just had way more of a problem hunting Caleb Daly than he had hunting a werewolf, so, no.

"I want to hunt the monster, not the person," Rome said, accidentally sounding like a child. "And I think it's silver bullets, I dunno, ask Lennie. Matter of fact, where are they?"

Rome walked purposefully away from Richard and Rawson (geez, what was this, Team R or something?) and called Lenna.

"Hey, chica, what's the haps? Where are you guys?"

"Oh, Tex's sister gave us lunch, and Georgie's flirting with some hot guy here."

"What? Get her out of there, Lennie. What kind of a wingman are you?" he teased. "Nah, look, I'm just kidding. Hey, leave her there if she wants to score the hookup, but we need you here. We think we've got a contact, and I forget if it's a silver bullet to the heart or brain or gall bladder, and I really don't much care 'cause my aim's not that good anyway, so we need you."

Georgie could see Lenna from the window in Missouri’s living room. She was standing next to her car, talking with someone on the phone- probably Rome.
Georgie turned her head away from the window, meeting Adam’s gaze again. She couldn’t remember the last time she met someone who was both attractive and very smart, that was a combination she definitely liked to see in men.
But then she noticed something else. Missouri was scrutinizing her from the side, a tiny smile on her face, and Georgie remembered that just a few minutes ago that woman had been snooping around in Lenna’s mind, so that would mean…

Get out of my head, Ma’am, Georgie thought to herself. She wasn’t sure if Missouri could really see what was going on in her head, but that smile on the older woman’s face made her nervous. If she really was able to read minds, she could perfectly see how interested Georgie was in the young doctor.
Georgie tried to ignore her, but that wasn’t particularly easy, especially not when she looked at Adam again and thought of the possibility that someone else was just snooping around in her head, knowing exactly that Georgie was only pretending to be disinterested.
There’s nothing going on, not at all, Georgie thought, in case Tex’ sister really was reading her mind right now. Like I care what-

“So, you both being from Boston, or at least the same area, gives you something in common”, Missouri suddenly said with a wide grin, interrupting the silence. Georgie shot her a warning glance. That woman had totally been reading her mind!

Thank you, but I don’t need anyone’s help to set me up with someone, Georgie thought.

Missouri’s smile didn’t fade. “What is it you miss most about Boston?”

Without hesitating, both answered at the same time. “Clam chowder.”
They looked a bit surprised at each other, but then chuckled.

“Well, actually I don’t eat clam chowder, but nevertheless, it reminds me of home”, Georgie said, looking at Missouri first, but then her gaze wandered back to Adam.
That same moment Lenna showed up in the living room again, looking a bit impatient.
“Rome called”, she said. “Can’t leave those guys alone for more than an hour, they are a helpless mess without a working brain in their group.”

Alex was out of coffee for the fifth time today. Either he was becoming far too tolerant of caffeine or the stuff he was drinking was really bad—he was inclined to think it was a combination of both. He yawned, looked out the window, and out of boredom, produced a penny-whistle from his pocket and twittered away softly on it.

“Put it away, Colt,” Holyfield growled, and Alex stopped his quiet playing long enough to regard the man across the table. When he saw Holyfield’s scowl, he grinned around the whistle and played a few more notes.

“Stop or I will kill you,” Natalie said, turning to him and smiling a bright, serial-killer smile.

“Y’see the pointy end?” Alex asked, stopping his playing to point at the end of the whistle. The metal pipe was filed to a sharp point. Natalie did not look impressed.

“Nah, I guess it wouldn’t kill you, but it sure wouldn’t feel great, and I think it’d be worth it.” Nonetheless, Alex stuffed the instrument back in his jacket pocket and drained his fifth or sixth cup of coffee. It still wasn’t helping. What he really wanted was to just go back to the motel and sleep, except he couldn’t sleep in his own damn room, because… well… because! Damn pointy-toothed witch-woman. This was her fault. He was sure she’d contrived the situation in which he’d found himself. Well, the hangover was his fault. The rest…

He’d returned to his room, the previous night, to what was certainly one of the stranger and more disturbing sights he’d ever seen. Natalie, looking stoned and hazy, had been sitting on his bed- his bed!- watching Holyfield with rapt attention. Well, really, she’d been watching Holyfield’s hand, because he’d been holding one of those IV bags of blood. Alex had watched them in stunned, horrified disgust, while Holyfield teased his captive vampire with blood and she just watched the blood wherever it moved. Without a word, he had turned right on his heel, nearly vomited, and managed to stumble his way to an access ladder that went to the roof. He’d known SWORD must’ve done something to control their monster-people, but he hadn’t actually seen it. And then he’d realized he was definitely going to puke. To be fair, that could have been the alcohol, because he had been... pretty drunk. So he’d climbed up to the roof, puked, and then stayed up there in the cold, entirely unwilling to go back to his room. No, no way, hell no. HELL. NO.

The night had not improved from there. No, as soon as he’d puked up the last of what was in his stomach and finally started sobering up, it’d started getting a whole hell of a lot colder a whole hell of a lot faster, until his breath made great clouds instead of little puffs. He’d been amusing himself by pretending he was a fire-breathing dragon for about ten minutes when he finally realized he wasn’t alone on the roof. He’d blamed it, as he’d blamed many things this evening, on having a bit too much to drink. When something in his peripheral vision moved, he turned to look at it. Then he’d nearly fallen backwards off the roof while having a heart attack and yelping something that might have been, “ALAN?!” but was mostly just incomprehensible.

He hadn’t had his gun. He hadn’t even had a knife, because apparently he was stupid, so he hadn’t taken a swing or a shot at the ghost that stood in front of him, just staring at him and not saying a word. “A…” he attempted, choked on the name, and tried again, “Alan?” he asked, though the question was mainly rhetorical. The ghost shifted from foot to foot, and old nervous mannerism of Alan’s that’d usually meant he thought he was about to get in trouble, and which now made Alex’s heart ache at the familiarity of it. Then the ghost had quit shuffling, and looked at him, opening his mouth as if to speak, and… disappeared. Without a word. Without so much as a spooky spirit fingers moment or creepy wail, the spirit had gone and Alex was left alone on the roof, shaken and confused.

“Shit,” he’d said, with feeling, and kicked the raised edge of the roof, making his toes sting through his thick boots. And then he’d retreated downstairs, broken into the van, and attempted to sleep until Holyfield and Justice found him in the morning and informed him that they were going to a meeting with some FBI guy at noon. Of course, Alex was expected to be there and behave himself. He’d very studiously ignored Natalie when they all sat down, because he was trying to repress the previous night.

But it was difficult to repress something when said vampire was sitting right next to you in the booth giving you one of those unsettling looks that focused mostly on the pulse point in your neck.

“Stop looking at me, Natalie,” Alex said, but the woman only smiled. “Command, Natalie won’t stop staring at me,” he said across the table to Justice and Holyfield, who gave him twin blank stares.

“Grow up, Colt. Natalie, stop giving him reasons to whine,” Holyfield finally said, tiredly, as Justice looked over towards the door and nodded at someone. Alex turned in the seat and saw a guy in a suit walking towards them, actually smiling in greeting at the two agents-in-command. He pulled up a chair, sat at the end of their table, and ordered a coffee and a sandwich.

“So, have you had any luck finding your guys?” he asked, and Alex let himself zone out. This was another of those conversations no one was going to expect him to be a part of. That was fine, he’d just sit here and drink his coffee. He was, however, interested in the two files the newcomer set on the table. Ignoring files was not something Alex was capable of doing, so when no one seemed to object, he dragged them across the table and opened them both, snorting softly when he saw the pictures inside. He’d heard of those two boys. His parents had met their dad briefly, he thought, because he remembered them talking about a Winchester when he and Alan were kids. So what had the brothers been up to, recently? Looked like a whole laundry list of offenses, serious ones and minor ones, tracking all over the country. In fact, it was a fairly macabre list, if you didn’t know what you were lookin’ at, which Alex did.

“Colt, was it?” Alex was interrupted by Henrickson’s voice, and looked over at him with what he was sure was one of those ‘I’m a blithering idiot’ looks, because suits never spoke to him, unless it was to tell him to do something.

“That’s m’name,” he said, and when Justice kicked him under the table, added, “Sir.”

“See anything in those files?” he asked, and Alex gave him another one of those looks. He feared he was making himself out to be a moron, here.

“Uh…” he started, looked back down at the files. He didn’t know the Winchester brothers, not personally, but he was somewhat opposed to saying anything that might get them in hot water, which was pretty much anything at all. He sure wasn’t going to attempt to explain some of these offences; it might just make them worse. “Think I’ve heard of the guys,” he said. “Not sure they seemed like the types to do a lot of that, what little I’ve heard of ‘em.”

“We have witnesses,” Henrickson assured him.

“Yeah? Well, hey, I dunno. They pay me to shoot at things from a roof, not to think about ‘em,” Alex responded, pushing the files back across to Henrickson, who looked a little surprised.

“Any chance you want to switch divisions? We’d pay you to shoot and to think,” Henrickson joked, and Holyfield cleared his throat.

“Stealing my agents, Henrickson?” he asked, and Henrickson just shook his head.

“No, I guess not. It would irritate our bosses. But if you find you can spare him…” Henrickson said. Alex was, quite frankly, astounded. So, rather than making a thorough moron of himself, he shut up and sipped at his coffee while the three agents finished their little discussion: Holyfield and Justice wanted to know if Henrickson had any information on their guys, and vice-versa.

When Henrickson got up to leave, he flicked a card across the table at Alex, who caught it and arched his eyebrows at the guy in question.

“In case you remember anything else about the Winchesters,” Henrickson said, “Or if you get tired of these two,” he added jokingly, and nodded at Holyfield and Justice. Yeah, that’d be the day. Alex was always tired of them, but he really had no choice in the matter of staying or going. He nodded anyway and tucked the card away in a pocket before returning to his coffee.

Adam stood as Georgie left.

"It was nice to meet you," Georgie said, smiling and flipping her hair back.

Adam blushed and nodded, managing a little smile as he shook Georgie's hand before she left. Lenna smirked as she followed her friend out, leaving Missouri and Adam alone as they had been before.

"Have you finished that book I asked you to read?" Missouri asked carefully.

Adam paused, then nodded.

"...You know, you would be a great asset to this team," she said. "And its safe here--more than other places."

"And without a lake in sight," Adam laughed wryly.

"I guess not. But we could use you. More than one hunter doesn't come back in one piece."

Adam sighed. "I'll think about it."

He was on a plane heading back to Boston the next day.

Lenna and Georgie where sitting in her car on the way to lake. The young girl was rather quiet it was bugging her how much she wanted Rawson to go away, how much she wanted to be the one that was investigating with Rome at the lake. They would have fun, probably ended up playfully fighting in the shore of the lake. But it was not her that was with Rome it was Rawson the guy that hated her. Rawson never really wanted her to stick around, to teach Rome everything about hunting. Lenna sighed.

“He still cares for you, you know that right?” Georgie said looking at her manicured nails.

“I hate your powers, first Missouri poked around in my head now you. And I have no idea what you are talking about.” Lenna mumbled.

Georgie laughed but she let Lenna be. There was no point in trying to teach her about her own feelings.
Not long after they parked the car next to Rawson’s bright green Camaro. She took her crossbow and silver arrows and saw Georgie check her gun, they would not go into an area where a werewolf is on the loose.

Maybe he got me that car because of Rawson’s?

“Blondie come on we need to find Rome and… the others and I can’t wait for you. I think you should start to consider wearing proper hunting shoes not those heels.” Lenna didn’t mean to snap at Georgie but she couldn’t stop feeling betrayed because Rawson came back and Rome dropped her.
The closer she got to the boys the more she saw the signs of a werewolf, Lenna bit her lip this was hard not really because it was Caleb but because she knew how it was to kill a werewolf. She wasn’t sure about Richard but she had shot a werewolf and knew that even when the werewolf was shot when he was wolfed out he would turn back the last moment before he died and would not understand what had happened.

“Rome?” Lenna shouted to make sure they would not accidently got shot. “The girl with the brain is here, where are you guys?”