Chapter Text
He'd stayed with Lisa and Ben for about two months before he found himself out in the world again. Hunting again, like he had promised Sammy and himself that he wouldn’t do, because there were still demons out there hiding from whoever was in charge of hell now that Lucy was in the cage.
Dean knew that someone had to make sure they all got sent back to the pit where they belonged. And he realized that he was likely to at least be one of those somebodies, so off he went.
Sometimes the hunts were quick and easy, over and done with only hours or days after he rolled up on a demon. Other hunts took upwards of a month or so to take care of the infestation, perform a not-so quick and dirty exorcism, and be on his way down the road again. But Dean was making progress, and by the time he'd been at it for over a year he was giving consideration to retiring permanently this time.
After one last hunt.
This last demon he was tracking had nestled itself into a small middle of nowhere NoCal town called Beacon Hills. It was mentioned briefly in Dad's journal, rumored to be home of an established werewolf pack and something called a Nemeton, but there were no indicators saying that either the wolves or the Nemeton whatsit were a problem; Dean planned to ignore them unless he was given a reason to do otherwise and just focus on Beelzebub's cousin or whoever this demon was claiming itself to be.
Thus far the local news hadn't told him much besides the facts that Beacon Hills was boring as fuck: no mysterious occurrences in the past fifty years, no unexplained deaths, incredibly low suicide rate, and two malls that both had a goddamn Macy's.
When he finished this hunt, he was giving serious consideration to just... putting down roots and staying. Let Dean Winchester simply disappear into obscurity.
So he was just sort of hanging around the local diner - which had some damned good pie, so that made the past week fairly worthwhile - listening to the gossip in order to hopefully find out something about his target. Hell, he didn't have a name or M.O. to attach to this particular bastard; the only reason he'd known where to go was all thanks to Bobby.
Anyway, he was enjoying some pie and gossip when she walked through the door. Well, more correctly she waddled through the door, one arm slung low around her stomach in that protective manner expectant mothers seemed to instinctively possess. She was sort of pretty, all strawberry blonde hair and big blue-grey eyes and fair freckled skin, but that wasn't what drew Dean's attention to her as she entered the building.
No, that would be the fact that she all but flung the door open and loudly announced, "Oh my God, someone get me a Coke and a large order of curly fries and keep those bastards coming. I'll be right back after I piss a river."
It was a solid testament to the Crazy Pregnant Lady being a local by the fact that the woman behind the counter - Nina? Gina? something like that anyway - responded with an eyeroll and an admonishment of, "For Christ's sake, Claudia, there are out of towners in here," even as she moved to dispense the requested drink.
"Welcome to Beacon Hills," the now-designated Claudia said to the room at large. "Feel free to drink the water, stay out of the woods after dark, and for fuck's sake avoid anyone who says he has a magical dick. Those assholes are trouble." With that, she waved over her shoulder and slipped into the ladies room.
Dean turned to the waitress who had returned to the table and asked, "Is that normal for people around here?"
Tracey the Waitress snorted and refilled Dean's coffee. "That's normal for Claudia," she replied. "She's her own special brand of crazy, but we love her anyway."
"Huh." Dean offered a grin to to his waitress as she headed across the room to check on another table before frowning to himself. He still had nowhere to really start in tracking down this demon, and he was dreading the thought of putting in a call for assistance. He really, really didn't want to be called an idiot today.
While he was lost in his thoughts, the pregnant woman had finished up in the bathroom and made her way to sit at the counter, where she was chatting with Nina-or-Gina as she ate her curly fries. Dean snapped back to awareness of the room around him as she raised her voice.
"Seriously, Tina, there's something wrong."
Oh, Tina. He'd been about three-fourths correct on the woman's name.
"Claudia, be serious," Tina said, sounding exasperated. "You told me you didn't care if Thomas screwed around with other woman because, and I quote, the sex wasn't that great anyway and he'd be a shit dad."
"And I stand by that statement," Claudia replied in a tone that suggested she thought Tina was being difficult. "I'm just saying it's pretty goddamn ridiculous that the last three women he's fucked around with are all currently in the ICU at Beacon Hills Memorial in comas and no one thinks there's any kind of connection."
"Maybe it's some kind if bacterial thing," the other woman replied. "Like mono or meningitis or something."
Claudia scowled, and Dean could practically sense her frustration. "Please, tell me what type of bacterial infection causes someone's eyes to turn black," she challenged.
Bingo, the hunter thought to himself as he stood up, tossing a few bills on the table to pay for his pie as he made his way to the counter. He finally had a clue as to what, exactly, he was looking for, and it seemed like Miss Small Town USA might be a good place to learn more about the incubus' - and seriously? Seriously? - current host.
Tina was giving the strawberry blonde a look that said she was worried about the other woman's sanity. "So your conclusion is that Thomas is possessed by a demon?" she asked.
"No, I think he's possessed by the tooth fairy," Claudia snarked back before all but shouting, “Of course he'd be possessed by a demon! I know goddamn well you've seen The Exorcist fifteen times, what else would possess a person?"
"Demons aren't real, Claudia," Tina said with a sigh. "If there really is something wrong with Thomas, you should tell someone. Like the sheriff or someone at the hospital."
Claudia snorted, the sound in no way delicate. "Yeah, right," she scoffed. "If the sheriff's department hasn't cottoned on to the weird yet, they won't listen to me. Remember who called all last winter about the howling in the preserve?"
"Yes, but that's because you said it sounded like wolves," Tina replied as Dean leaned casually on the counter. "But there haven't been any wolves in California for ages."
The woman rolled her eyes. "I'm aware of that, thank you. Especially since I’m the one who shared that little factoid with you."
"Excuse me, ladies," Dean cut in smoothly, offering a grin as the two turned to look at him. "I was wondering if one of you knew how I can get to the sheriff's office."
"I have the number if you needed to make a report?" Tina offered, sounding less like she was giving information and more like she was asking him if that was okay.
Claudia, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes and gave him a suspicious look. "Why're you headed that way?" she asked; where Tina's had sounded curious, Claudia's was an accusation.
Dean offered up what he hoped was a bashful grin and shrugged. "Well," he said almost sheepishly, "I'm looking to stay in town for a while and was hoping that they might be looking for a new deputy or volunteer."
Tina smiled back at him, but Claudia's expression remained unchanged. "Oh, we don't get many newcomers who wanna stick around through here very often," the blonde said cheerfully. "Most people just pass through on their way north or south, don't they?" she added with a glance towards her friend.
Claudia finally offered a smile; Dean couldn't help but be reminded idly of Gabriel's smirk or a dog baring its fangs. "True that," she replied sweetly. "Actually, I'm headed back that way myself. The high school's just down the road from the station, and even if technically I'm on leave I need to check up on my kids. They've probably conned the sub into thinking the trig midterm is voluntary instead of a quarter of their grade."
"You really don't have to go to all that trouble, ma'am," he tried to defer, wondering just how quickly this was going to go south on him. "Just point me in the right direction."
"Nonsense," the woman protested, heaving herself off the stool and settling both hands over her stomach. "It's really not out of my way at all, and this one," here she hitched her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Tina, who just grinned more brightly, "is always telling me to stop scaring the norms. Dude, just accept the assist."
Dean bit back a sigh and nodded after a few seconds. As much as he was starting to regret the idea of trying to finesse some information out of the woman, she remained his only possible lead. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
"Then let's go, handsome," she replied with a wink before turning back to her friend. "I'll call you later to bitch about the Hale kid. If my students have conned the sub, that little shit was the mastermind."
"Peter Hale's a good kid," Tina responded, rolling her eyes once more.
Claudia didn't bother with a response, instead heading for the door and giving every indication that she wasn't planning to wait for Dean to join her. The hunter said a quick goodbye to the blonde at the counter before rushing after the other woman. Claudia hadn't gone very far, but she had gravitated to the Impala unerringly and was now leaning on the door and giving him a searching look.
"Before I get in this beast with you," she said evenly, "I'm gonna need a name. Girl's gotta watch out for herself, you know."
"I understand," Dean replied, still maintaining what he hoped was a convincingly innocent grin. "Name's Darrell. Darrell Sweet."
"Nice to meet you. I'm Chrissie Hynde."
Well, fuck, he thought even as he said, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I heard two people call you Claudia back there."
"And I'm about a hundred percent positive that you aren't the drummer for Nazareth," she replied with a shrug. "So, let's try this one more time. What's your real name, Darrell?"
Dean fixed the woman with a look for a moment, hoping that he was properly conveying just how much he didn't want to be fully honest; Claudia returned it with a look saying quite clearly how many fucks she gave about what he wanted, which was precisely zero. If he didn't need to know as much as possible about the incubus' host, he would just tell her to forget about everything and put in a call to Bobby for an assist. But there was just something in him that was tired of doing this on his own, a part of him that was more than ready for retirement.
"Dean," he finally conceded, shoulders slumping. "Dean Winchester."
Claudia folded her arms across her chest. "I thought we were going for honest here, pal," she said. "I don't know what the hell you think you're trying to pull, but I grew up in this town and I don't appreciate some Joe Shmoe from the big city coming through here making fun of me."
Dean pulled out his wallet, removed his driver's license - the one he got before hitting the road the first time with Sam what felt like forever ago, back home in Lawrence - and held it out to the woman. "Go on, take it," he said when she just looked at the card in his hand. It was another ten or fifteen seconds before she huffed out a breath and snatched it from him.
"If this is a fake," Claudia said after examining the card for roughly thirty seconds, "it's a damned good one. What's in Lawrence, Kansas that would make a guy like you with all that," she waved the hand still holding his license as if indicating his entire person, "going on for him take off for Beacon Hills, California?"
"Bad memories," was all Dean offered, not willing to say any more than that. Apparently Claudia was satisfied with that answer because she only nodded and handed the card back to him.
"Claudia Zdzislawa Stilinski," she said. At Dean's incredulous look she just grinned that same Gabriel-wolfish smile. "It's a family name, my folks are incredibly Polish."
"As in first or second generation American Polish or just off the boat Polish?" he found himself asking, then wanting to kick himself for it.
Thank God she just laughed. "As in my pradziadek insisted that his kids learned Polish and English growing up and the tradition has continued through my grandparents and my own parents. I haven't decided yet if I'm gonna do that with Przemyslaw or not."
"I hope you're not really naming the kid that."
"Hey, jackass," the woman replied smacking him on the chest with the back of her hand, "that's my father's name."
"Sorry," Dean said, holding up his hands. "It's your kid and your choice. But I really do need your help," he added, trying to get himself back to the issue at hand.
"How can an unwed momma-to-be possibly help you out?" she asked, quirking one eyebrow at him even as she relaxed against the Impala's door.
"Because you're the only person who I can trust to be honest with me. Because I believe you when you say your baby daddy is acting like he's possessed." Dean paused and looked directly at Claudia, meeting her very pretty eyes steadily. "Because it's been my job for the past few years to hunt down demons and send them back to hell where they belong, and I intend to do so here in your little town."
Claudia peered back at him, silent for so long that he expected her to start laughing in his face and insisting that he just drop her off at the high school before putting this whole meeting behind her. When she finally spoke, Dean almost felt the stress drain away:
"Okay then. How do we start?"