Chapter Text
"Dean, I’m telling you, something isn’t adding up. We should at least get some more info before we make a move.”
Dean looked up from his hamburger. “What do you mean, ‘not adding up’? Two FBI chicks were here a week ago, no one has heard from them since. The case they were working on is unsolved. Obviously the shifter got to them, what more is there?”
Sam scoffed and glanced down at his laptop. “The fact that they went to the same places that we went, for one.”
“And for the others?”
“Well, the manager only remembered them because he was a blatant misogynist, and he got their card because he wanted to make sure they were legit.”
Dean finished his hamburger and got up off the motel bed to throw the wrapper away. “So?” He stopped a few feet away from the trashcan and tossed the crumpled up paper in.
“So, I did a little digging.” Sam turned his laptop around to show Dean. “It turns out, there is no R. Plant or J. Page employed with the FBI.” The page showing on the screen read “No results”.
“Stealing business cards, Sammy?” Dean asked with a grin before sitting down in front of the laptop.
Sam gave Dean an indignant look. “Not all of us have to steal. I asked if I could see the card.”
But Dean wasn’t paying attention. He was focused on the laptop and was conducting his own search. He opened a new tab, and muttering to himself.
“R. Plant and J. Page?” He said, straightening up. He flipped the laptop back to Sam so he could see. “Robert Plant and Jimmy Page. The lead singer and guitarist of Led Zeppelin.”
Sam’s eyes widened with realization and nodded his head slightly, a subconscious indication for Dean to continue.
“They used an Alias.”
“You think they were hunters?”
Dean shrugged. “Could be.”
“Alright, we could give Bobby a call, see if he’s heard of them.”
Dean stood up and grabbed his phone off the table. He dialed the number and put it to his ear. Sam went back to his laptop and listened to the one-sided conversation.
“Hey Bobby, it’s me. Yeah, we were wondering if you’ve heard of a pair of hunters that use the Alias’s Robert Plant and Jimmy Page… Awesome!” Dean was walking over to grab some paper when he stopped short. “What do you mean?... Yeah, Sam’s here.” Dean cringed. “Yep. Okay Bobby.”
Sam looked up expectantly. “Well?”
“Bobby said he knows them, and that they must be pretty stupid to not recognize their own fake name. We’re the only ones he knows of that go by those aliases.”
“Wait, what did Bobby say exactly?”
“ ’The only hunters I know that go by those aliases are you and your damn brother. Stop callin’ me about things you already know.’ “
“So we still have no idea who they are.” Sam said.
“Well we need answers. Lets head down there tonight. Who knows? Maybe they’ll still be alive.”
~
Dean lowered himself into the sewer, the old rusty metal scraping under his fingers. He dropped down, and his nose was immediately greeted with a putrid scent. He made a face and turned his flashlight so he could see ahead of him.
“I gotta tell you, man, it stinks down here,” Dean said as Sam landed behind him. Sam made a disgusted noise before he straightened out and followed Dean down the tunnel.
They made their way through the sewer system, occasionally stopping to shine their light on what they thought might be of interest. So far, only a dead rat, an old pop can, and a jacket have shown up.
“Hey Dean, check it out.” Dean stopped and turned so he could see what Sam was pointing his light at. An old leather jacket was laying in a bundle on the ground. Sam stooped over to pick it up.
“Dude, we do not need a jacket.”
“It’s in good condition!” Their hushed voices echoed off the walls, amplifying every sound they made.
Dean adjusted his stance and gave Sam a look that said “Whatever, but I’m not carrying it.”
They were distracted from the jacket when they heard a sound from further down. It was a sort of plunk-bash, similar to the sound a bottle of shampoo makes when you drop it in the shower. Dean looked toward the sound and then back at Sam. Sam gave a little half shrug and then turned his eyes toward the place where the sound had come from. Dean turned once again to the emptiness ahead and started forward.
They hadn’t gotten far before they saw definite signs of a shapeshifer living nearby. Scraps of torn off skin lay in piles on the floor. The already-bad smell got significantly worse.
Dean swung his flashlight around, and the light flashed on something in the distance. Curious, he walked toward it and stooped down to get a better look.
“Gun shell,” He said, holding it up for Sam to see. “They’re hunters.” Sam’s eyes widened and he pressed his lips together. Dean threw the shell aside and continued on his way. “Or were,” He said to the darkness ahead. The darkness was so blinding that he almost missed the sharp turn of the tunnel.
Past the turn, the sewer opened up into an intersection. The different tunnels converging created a room of sorts. Two people were bound to the ladder along the side of the tunnel. One was unconscious and hanging over herself. Her face and forehead was bloody on one side, and her long dark hair was matted onto her face. The other was bound and gagged and was struggling against her restrictions, her dirty blond hair was a mess, sticking up everywhere.
Sam and Dean rushed forward to help them. Dean undid the unconscious one’s binds and caught her as she fell forward. Sam cut the ropes holding the other one to the rusty ladder. She immediately jumped up and pulled off her own gag. She didn’t waste a moment before taking the other girl from Dean.
“Who the hell are you?” She demanded, though not in a hostile way. She wanted a straight answer, and fast. Dean understood that, and he answered in more or less the same manner.
“We’ll explain later, but right now we’ve got a bigger problem. Are you two hunters?”
“Damn right.”
“Alright, then we don’t have to catch you up on what’s going on. We need to get going. There’s a shifter out there, and it’s probably wearing one of your faces.”
“Hold on.” Sam stopped and looked around. His eyes rested on a metal scrap about the size of a crowbar. He handed it to the girl. “It’s not silver, probably iron, but it’s better than nothing.”
“That broke off the ladder while I was struggling. Made a huge noise. I thought you guys were the shifter comin’ back.”
“Speaking of the shifter, it could come back any minute. It was only coincidence that we were closer.” Sam turned toward the tunnel that they had entered through and lead the group forward. Sam and Dean held their guns at the ready, and the girl clutched her makeshift weapon. Their steps splashed and echoed down the tunnel.
“Hey! Shifty!” A female voice called.
Her voice resonated from back at the intersection. Dean whipped around, pointing his gun at the source of the sound.
Another copy of the blonde they had untied stood at the end of the tunnel, holding her stance with a gun raised. Except this copy was completely naked. She seemed unashamed, and didn’t flinch when she saw Sam and Dean there. Her eyes flicked toward them for an instance, but she was focused on something else. She made her way forward slowly, not lowering the gun.
Dean pointed his gun at one, then the other. “Which one of you is the shifter?”
“I’m not the shifter,” the girl at the end of the tunnel said. “She is. She tied herself up to throw you off.”
“Don’t listen to her!” The clothed version said. “She’s trying to trick you!”
The blond cocked her gun.
“Nobody fire! The bullets could ricochet and hit somebody else!” Sam lunched forward slightly. Everything was still except the sound of dripping water.
“That damn shifter has my sister!”
“You could be the damn shifter!” Dean shot back.
“Lets just test you both with silver!” Sam suggested.
“Yeah?” Dean turned to look at Sam. “Silver what? Bullets?” Dean pointed his gun at the naked girl again. “That’s wasted ammo, and I’m not putting my gun down for a second.”
In the midst of their argument, the other, fully clothed, blonde was forgotten. Without warning, she dropped the brunette and kicked Sam in the stomach and grabbed his gun and twisted it out of his hands. She cocked it and pointed it at the brunette on the ground. The girl at the end of the hall started to run forward but her shapeshifter counterpart pointed the gun at her. She edged to a stop and put her hands in the air.
Dean tried to make a move as well, but then the gun was pointed at him, point-blank.
A groan sounded from the previously uncounsious girl. The sound alerted everyone else, and they turned in her direction. She opened her eyes and attempted to focus on her surroundings.
“What… Where…”
“Oh, go back to sleep,” the shapeshifter said, hitting her on the head with the gun in it’s hand. She fell back over, her head making a noise as it hit the metal plate she landed on.
“Go rot in purgatory.” The naked girl raised her gun again and rushed forward. The shapeshifter pointed her gun at the helpless brunette.
“Take another step and I shoot.” It said.
The blonde grinned slyly. “I don’t need to take another step.” She fired the gun, and it hit the shapeshifter straight in the heart.
The second the shapeshifter doubled over, she ran forward, pushing the dying monster out of her way. She ran for the girl lying on the ground.
“What the hell! You know, you could’ve killed us if you had missed!” Sam scolded her.
“Yes, but I didn’t,” She sounded as if she had lost interest in the conversation, very much like a teenager does after being scolded or caught something they weren’t supposed to be doing.
She put her head on the brunettes’ chest to listen for a heartbeat. “She’s alive.” She announced, before standing up straight. “Help me get my clothes from that shifter, would you?” She said, nodding at Dean.
“What? Oh. Of course,” Dean started pulling the layers of clothing off the now-dead shapeshifter and tossing them to her.
“Just the shirt and jeans. I’m in a hurry.” Dean obliged and tossed her said items. She started putting on the jeans. She looked around, and, “Oh hey, is that my jacket?”
Sam, slightly startled by her sudden intrest in the item he was carrying, jumped a little. “What? Oh. Is it?” He tossed it to her.
She caught it with ease, then lifted it up to inspect it. “Wilson’s leather jacket, older than I am,” She put it on, “Scorch marks from that job it a year ago, and a perfect fit. It’s mine.” She pulled the jacket off and hung it over the railing.
“Who are-“
“I’ll explain later. I was really hoping we’d never meet you two, but we have, it’s done, we need to talk. But right now this idiot,” she gestured at the girl laying on the ground, “Needs my help. We’re staying at the motel a few blocks down, room 114. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She pulled her shirt over her head and adjusted it.
“Can’t you tell us something?” Sam asked. “Your name, at least?”
“I’m Deanna, and this is my sister Sam.” At this point, she was putting the jacket back on and picking up her sister, Sam, off the ground. “See you tomorrow.”
She made her way down the tunnel, leaving Sam and Dean wondering what the hell just happened.
“Damn,” Dean commented.
“I guess we’re going to room 114 tomorrow.”