Fake Fan Fiction ❯ The Devil's Sweet Ride ❯ It's All Fodder for the Tell-All ( Chapter 5 )

Author's Note: I just noticed that I have been extremely remiss in replying to the incredibly kind MediaMiner reviewers. I'm so sorry! I didn't even realize!

 

Slightly Confused??: I'm not sure if you're still reading this or not, but I thought I'd reply just the same. I'm sorry I put you off with the beginning! It all started out kind of slow—still is slow, actually—but I do have a plot! Promise! Oh, and thanks for giving me Drake's last name. I'm not exactly FAKE-obsessed—I've only read the mangas once.

 

Toaster-chan: I'm glad I'm doing Nikki justice! Basically, I'm just taking the character (oh, let's just say it, YOU) and making her/you as sarcastic and snarky as possible. I hope you like her role in this chapter, too!

 

dawnmm: I'm glad you're liking it so far! Unfortunately, yes, I do disparage my own writing sometimes—can't break the habit, and I'm my own worst critic. It's a problem…

 

Garita: Thanks for reviewing! It's good I'm entertaining you, if I'm not entertaining myself. And as to what's up with JJ—all in good time. (In other words, soon. Believe it or not, there's not much left to the story. Yeah, I know. Great plot, huh? It's practically nonexistent…)

 

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Chapter 5

 

By the time they got back to JJ and Drake's apartment, Sam was seriously regretting his hasty promise to tell all. At the time, he'd been prepared to do it if that was what it took to follow his strange vision, but now that he was actually facing the possibility of spilling the Big Family Secret—again—he was having doubts.

 

The problem was, he could see no way out of it. All the way back, he could feel one of the two in the back seat—probably Drake—studying him carefully, and that was how he knew he wasn't getting off the hook this time.

 

But Drake wasn't the only one looking at him, and Dean's frequent impatient glances were far more familiar. He was not looking forward to the lecture he would inevitably get to hear when they were alone.

 

One thing at a time. Drake and J first, then Dean. And Derek…

 

Maybe I should make a list…

 

XXX

 

Back at the apartment, Drake went into the living room/kitchen, sat down in an armchair, waited for the rest of them to sit down, and then said, lightly and implacably, “Your turn.”

 

Sam sighed. “Yeah. I—”

 

The doorbell rang, and Drake's jaw worked irritably for a second as he glared in that direction, then pushed himself out of his seat and headed for the door.

 

A moment later, Sam's stomach dropped as a decidedly angry female voice echoed through the apartment.

 

“They're here, aren't they?”

 

Drake didn't get a chance to reply before footsteps echoed into the room and in came Nikki, blazing with fury and looking just plain scary. Following her were an amused Diana and an acutely embarrassed Derek.

 

And the list gets longer…

 

XXX

 

Dean knew he shouldn't enjoy seeing his brother get nailed. And he didn't, usually, mainly because the only person he'd ever actually seen nail Sam was their father, and that was never an enjoyable experience for anyone.

 

But—well, right now he couldn't help but be amused as Sam practically cowered before the fire-breathing, death-dealing FBI agent that was suddenly Nikki Hudspeth. The woman was practically foaming at the mouth as she towered over Sam, spitting out her words like poison.

 

“You know, you seem like a nice guy to me, and the things I've heard only back that up, so I'm not actually going to kill you. But I am going to tell you that you are not getting away with ditching my boyfriend—and your best friend—to hand out with Amnesia Boy and his hip ornament. No offense,” she added sidelong to JJ and Drake.

 

“None taken,” both of them said weakly.

 

“Now, I understand that you want to help JJ,” Nikki plowed on. “And I applaud that, I really do. But you haven't seen this man in two years, and anyone can see that you missed him as much as he missed you. And I don't think you're as emotionally stunted as your idiot big brother over there. Now, him I could see doing this kind of thing. But you—well, I guess I just don't understand why you don't want to see Derek now.”

 

Derek waited until she paused for breath, then said sheepishly, “I'm sorry, Sam. I told her not to come, but…she didn't buy it.”

 

Sam smiled at him. “It's okay. She's right.” Then he sighed heavily. “Actually, maybe it's better this way. Now I can just…tell everyone at the same time.”

 

“All of them? Now?” Dean blurted, unable to keep quiet any longer.

 

Sam looked over at him, and Dean was somewhat mollified to see the same cornered irritation in eyes that must be mirroring his own. “Do you see any other choice?”

 

Dean's shoulders slumped. “No…”

 

“Besides,” Sam said lightly, “we're not using up our entire spotlight. There's one part of this that we haven't told Ryo and Dee, too, remember?”

 

But all the same, two FBI agents, two NYPD police officers, one of Sam's college buddies, and the promise of having to share Sam's Shining deal with Ryo and Dee as soon as they were done here—he couldn't remember the last time they'd been in a scrape this bad.

 

I really wish this place had more than one exit.

 

XXX

 

Sam, meanwhile, was feeling very uncomfortable. “Okay. So where so I start?”

 

“How about with that…stuff…you found where JJ disappeared?” Drake supplied helpfully.

 

But Sam shook his head. “No, that would be the end. Trust me, this is one story you want to hear from…well, as close to the beginning as possible.” He took a deep breath. “God, this is hard, especially considering the…circumstances.”

 

“Sam, what is it?” Derek asked gently.

 

Sam looked at him, and something in his face seemed to have a steadying affect. He squared his shoulders, and he told them the truth—flatly, honestly, and brutally.

 

“Dean and I are paranormal investigators.”

 

There was a moment of silence, and then Derek said, “Never what you think it's gonna be!”

 

“…Come again?” Drake said.

 

“Even I know enough to know why everyone's looking like that,” Drake added.

 

“Yeah, that's not a story you spread around the office,” Diana chimed in.

 

“Hmm…” Nikki said slowly, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe you have a decent excuse after all.”

 

“Thanks,” Sam said dryly.

 

“Oh…I didn't mean…I was just…oh, just get on with it, okay?”

 

Sam actually mustered up a grin for her before he continued.

 

He didn't give many details about the Winchesters themselves. How Mary had died, their training, Jessica, John—he skipped over most of that, because it really didn't pertain to this situation. He did talk about a few of the creatures they hunted—poltergeists, vampires, shapeshifters, and the like. He explained the shapeshifters especially carefully to the four officers, and Dean's relief was palpable when no one argued or jumped up to arrest him on the spot. He also alluded to some movies and popular songs in the hope of winning his brother over.

 

That was the easy part—the science of it all.

 

After that, it got…complicated.

 

“The powder we found was sulfur,” he said when Drake asked again.

 

“Okay. Sulfur. And that has what to do with anything?”

 

“Sulfur residue is what's left behind when demonic visitation occurs.”

 

Drake stared at him for a long moment, then closed his eyes slowly. “Do I want to know what that means?”

 

Sam looked over at JJ and asked softly, “JJ, do you want to know?”

 

JJ nodded immediately. “Tell me.”

 

So, Sam very carefully laid out all the possibilities—which were blessedly limited. One: JJ had been possessed. Not likely, considering the fact that no crimes or deaths had been connected to him. Two: JJ had been turned evil. Not actually a real possibility, but important to put out there. Or three, and the one Sam had already decided to go with: JJ had been abducted by a demon for…some reason.

 

“I'm still working on the `why' and the `how you're still alive',” he concluded. “And somewhere there I'm looking into recovering your memory.”

 

“…Wow,” JJ said slowly. “That's…a lot.”

 

“There's…a little more,” Sam said hesitantly.

 

“Oh, no, what?” That was Diana this time.

 

“Well…” Sam hesitated for a long time, then turned—to Derek. He chuckled a little. “You're gonna love this one, man. Ya see, it seems that…I found out the details of JJ's disappearance because…” A huge breath, then a lot of words all jumbled together. “I'm-psychic-and-I-had-a-vision.”

 

Another long silence before Derek asked, “You're—what, now?”

 

“Yep. I'm a psychic. I have visions. Usually death visions, only this time it was different. Used to be just in dreams, but now they come when I'm awake. I've been having them for a couple of years now. That's how I found out about JJ—I had one yesterday, and I'm really sorry you found out all this at once, and…that's it.

 

“That's it?” Drake asked. “You're sure?”

 

“I'm sure.”

 

Drake put his head into his hands and let out a long, agonized groan. “I need a drink.”

 

“Oh, yay!” Nikki said brightly. “Does that mean it's time to get smashed now?”

 

XXX

 

Sam excused himself as Drake was popping open the whiskey so he could get Ryo and Dee out of the way as soon as possible.

 

It took him a few moments to gather the courage to get out his phone and dial, wondering as he did how many people would know their secret by the time they left New York.

 

Ryo sounded tired when he answered, and Sam realized that it was barely nine A.M. “Hello?”

 

“Hi, Ryo, it's Sam.”

 

“Sam? Is something wrong?” Ryo asked in alarm.

 

Sam gave a short, quiet chuckle. “Depends on your definition of the word. Everyone's okay and everything, except for the inebriation, but…”

 

“Inebriation? Sam, what did you do?” Ryo asked tiredly.

 

“I told JJ and Drake about what Dean and I do. My best friend and a couple of FBI agents were there, too. I also told JJ that the evidence points to him being kidnapped by a demon and I did all of this without warning my brother beforehand.”

 

“…Wow,” Ryo said when he'd finished. “You've had…quite a morning.”

 

“You have no idea. That's actually why I'm calling—to give you an idea.”

 

“What're you talking about?” Ryo asked apprehensively.

 

Sam paused, then said hesitantly, “I have to tell you something.”

 

XXX

 

Ryo hung the phone up and slumped against the wall with a sigh.

 

“What's wrong?” Dee asked, coming out of their bedroom in time to hear the sigh.

 

“JJ was kidnapped by a demon. And Sam's psychic,” Ryo said flatly.

 

He heard Dee groan. “Wonderful.”

 

XXX

 

“Mind some company?”

 

Sam turned toward Ryo's door, his arms dropping to his sides, and faced Derek. He was outwardly calm, but his heart flopped nervously in his chest.

 

“Hey.”

 

Derek walked over to him and leaned sideways against the wall, crossing his arms and staring out at the city over the balcony rail. Sam could see a glimpse that he was a little tipsy, but far from drunk.

 

“So this is what you were hiding from us at Stanford,” he said casually, face and voice bland, and for the first time in the whole history of their friendship Sam couldn't read him. Then he looked at Sam's incredulous face out of the corner of his eye, and his features relaxed into a small smile. “Oh, come on, Sam, you didn't think we knew you were keeping secrets from us? I mean, we didn't think you were in the government ops or anything, but we knew you weren't telling us everything.”

 

“…All of you?” Sam asked in a strangled voice, picturing his many college friends.

 

To his relief, Derek shook his head. “Mostly just me and…and Jess. Paul had his moments, but most of the time it was just the two of us.”

 

“Oh. That's…good, I guess.” There was a moment of silence, and then Sam asked tentatively, “So…what do you think?”

 

“I think…this is weird. I mean, you wanted to be a lawyer. That's…the most normal job in the entire world, and now I find out that you're…not.”

 

Sam chuckled. “I tried, believe me, I tried. But I guess I'm just…not meant for normal.”

 

Derek echoed his laughter, and for a moment they shared a considerably more comfortable silence before Derek broke it by asking suddenly, “Her death wasn't natural, was it?”

 

Sam didn't pretend not to know what he was talking about. He simply said, in a voice heavy with sorrow, “No, it wasn't.”

 

Derek nodded, sad but unsurprised. “They never found a reason, you know. Finally chalked it up to random arson. But it wasn't. She was murdered, wasn't she?”

 

Suddenly, Sam felt incredibly old. “Yes.”

 

This time, Derek didn't ask any questions. He simply waited quietly, still looking over the city. After a moment spent studying him, Sam looked in the same direction.

 

“It was a demon. A demon that's been sort of…dogging my family—and others—since I was a baby. We don't know what its name is, but we call it the Yellow-Eyed Demon because—well, you get it. It…uh…killed my mom, too, when I was six months old. And…my dad, a few months back.”

 

Derek looked quickly at him, before sighing and looking away. “Oh, man…”

 

Sam nodded, but didn't acknowledge the genuine distress on Derek's face except to feel a surge of warmth for his friend.

 

“Anyways, after that, it just kind of disappeared. Dean and I are trying to pick up the trail again, and in the meantime we're working jobs on the side.”

 

“So…so you've been doing this your whole life?” Derek asked. “Investigating, or whatever you call it?”

 

“Hunting,” Sam explained. “We call it hunting. And yeah—since my mom died. My dad started it. He taught Dean, and then me.”

 

“Are you guys the only ones?”

 

Sam shrugged. “I used to think so. I mean, we had a couple of friends—Bobby, and Pastor Jim, and Caleb. I always thought it was a pretty small group, but…turns out there are a lot of us. We even have our own gossip mill, apparently. There are a ton of people who know about Dean and I that we've never met. Mostly friends of our dad. Seems there's a lot about this lifestyle he decided to keep to himself.”

 

Try as he might, he couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice, and after a moment Derek said, “I'm sorry, Sam. You…you don't deserve this. Any of it.”

 

“Yeah, well, you didn't deserve to have your best friend lie to you from the moment you met him, but…”

 

“Oh, stop beating yourself up about that,” Derek said, waving a hand dismissively. “I can see why you never said anything. I understand, Sam.”

 

Yeah, but would you feel the same way if you knew I was responsible for Jess's death? Sam wondered. But he was careful to keep the thought from showing on his face, and simply said, “Yeah. Thanks for that. Really, you have no idea.”

 

Derek shrugged. “Eh, what can I say? I'm a saint.”

 

Sam stared at him until he finally realized that a joke had been put on the table. Then he laughed and said, “Shut up.”

 

“Yeah, I know, you're bitter. It's hard being friends with someone so angelic,” Derek said solemnly.

 

Sam chuckled again. “Shut up.”

 

Derek opened his mouth, probably to make another bad joke, but he was cut off when JJ poked his head out the door, grinning widely.

 

“C'mon, guys, you're missin' all the fun! This…” He pointed to the bottle in his hand. “…Is tasty! Drake says I don' drink it a lot, but I can't figure out why…it makes my head feel funny…like i's gonna float away…I like it…”

 

“Oh, believe me, you'll see the problem later,” Sam replied with a smile.

 

“…Huh?” JJ asked in confusion.

 

“Never mind,” Sam said quickly. “We'll be there in a minute.”

 

JJ tried to look menacing and failed miserably. “Promise?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

JJ smiled brightly. “`Kay!” he chirped, and then disappeared back into the apartment.

 

Sam and Derek stayed on the balcony for a minute more, just looking at each other, and then Derek said, “Thanks for telling me, man.”

 

Sam smiled wordlessly at him, and Derek reached out and clapped him on the shoulder.

 

“Come on. Let's go back in. I'm betting it's been a while since you've had a drink.”

 

“Not long enough.”

 

“Now that I believe, you fine, upstanding citizen, you.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, you and Dean are gonna get along great.”

 

It wasn't until they were already headed back inside that he realized with a pang of puzzlement that Derek hadn't said a word about his abilities.

 

XXX

 

The “party”—which basically consisted of Dean, JJ, Drake, Diana and Nikki getting drunk off their asses, Derek getting a bit tipsier, and Sam abstaining completely—lasted until the afternoon, and probably would have gone longer if real life hadn't intruded.

 

As it was, Drake and JJ were supposed to meet Ryo and Dee at the precinct, so they could at least put up the appearance of conducting an investigation, and Diana wanted to go with them as a buffer in the event that Commissioner Berkley Rose showed up. Nikki and Derek decided eventually to go out to lunch, but Derek promised to meet up with Sam later.

 

And so the group split up and, considerably more knowledgeable—and drunk—than before, went their separate ways.

 

XXX

 

“Okay, so no offense, sweets, but you pick the weirdest friends,” Nikki said flatly, finally breaking their silence as soon as they were seated with their food at their chosen café. “Not that they're bad, or anything, just…”

 

“Weird,” Derek finished for her.

 

“Yeah. I mean, ghost hunters? Okay, so obviously I knew ghosts were real. I've told you about the haunted house I lived in. But I always figured people just…dealt with them. I never thought people actually hunted them. And psychics?”

 

Derek shook his head at that and said in a remarkably calm voice, “Dean isn't psychic. Just Sam.”

 

Nikki stared at him. “You're taking this really well. Aren't you at least a little freaked out by this?”

 

“Why? Would it be more entertaining for you if I was?”

 

“Well, yeah,” she said in exasperation, and Derek chuckled. He sobered quickly, though, and began picking at a napkin as he spoke.

 

“Seriously, though? I don't know what there is to be freaked about. He seemed to know what he's doing and he seems…relatively okay. And okay, so the psychic thing is a little hard to believe, but…at least he told me, right? And at least now I can be there for him. So yeah, I guess I'm fine.”

 

Nikki looked at him for a long time, then said, “Wow. That's very...healthy. God, how have I spent six months in a relationship with a man who actually tried to avoid drama?”

 

Derek smiled, and leaned in to kiss her. “Maybe it's because you're secretly much more of a peacekeeping person than you like to think.”

 

She thought about it, then shook her head. “Nah. Impossible. Obviously I'm just insane.”

 

XXX

 

“That time has got go be wrong,” Dean slurred, stumbling over the side of his bed and collapsing onto it.

 

“Nope, it's right. You're officially hung over before the clock hits three,” Sam told him pitilessly, sitting down on his own bed and pulling out the laptop.

 

“Hey, back off. This is all your fault,” Dean mumbled into his pillow.

 

“Oh, yeah, `cause I remember forcing that fifth bottle down your throat.”

 

“You know what I mean. You coulda warned me about your little tell-all session before you spilled. Nearly gave me a heart attack. Again.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Yeah, well, you say that now.” Dean sighed, almost passed out by now. “I don't think this day could get any worse.”

 

XXX

 

A couple of hours later, Dean groaned loudly as he was shaken awake.

 

“Go away, Sammy.”

 

“Sorry, man, but I found something important that I think you need to know.”

 

Dean let out another groan and turned over, glaring at the fuzzy shape that resembled Sam.

 

“This better be good.”

 

Sam sat back down on his bed, looking—sad, or irritated, or something.

 

“Remember when you said you didn't think this day could get any worse?”

 

“If I say no, will you go away?”

 

“No.”

 

“I remember.”

 

“Well, it just got worse.”

 

Dean groaned. “Aw, man, what'd you find out?”

 

“I think JJ is psychometric.”