Liliaeth (liliaeth) wrote,

Fic: Eat it Twilight (6/16)

Title: Eat it Twilight
Author Name: liliaeth
Artists Name: lightthesparks
Beta: runriggers, just_ruth, faithburke
Summary: The BAU has to deal with a serial killer who believes he's hunting vampires. The unsub's name, Dean Winchester.
Genre: Supernatural/Criminal Minds crossover
Warnings: death of children, religious themes, violence
Pairing: not an issue
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: I don't own either, no matter how much I might want to
Notes: Spoilers for s5 of CM and SPN


Most of all, Sharon remembered the chains. She remembered how they’d stung her wrists. She remembered drinking the wine. It had been all right, because the teacher had said it was. Just one glass, and it wasn’t like European kids never drank alcohol. They would spend the rest of the evening talking books over the fire.

Twilight night, sign-ups for it had been up since the first day of camp. Most of the others would rather spend a night dancing, but Sharon had signed up for camp because of the books and the reading, not to meet boys, despite her dad’s jokes on the matter. Danita had signed up because she missed George. They’d asked Marissa, but her dad didn’t like her reading ‘those vampire books’. And the others… They’d all just looked forward to a night around the campfire, sharing reading aloud and just plain being together. Susie had been the first to fall asleep. Ms Burns had tucked her in her sleeping bag and Sharon had fought the urge to yawn.

When they woke up, she’d felt the chains pulling on her wrists, and her gut had felt like it was killing her from the inside out. It had hurt so much. Sharon just wanted it to end. She’d struggled against her chains, but nothing helped. Then Simon walked in. Simon with his nice brown bangs that hung in front of his eyes. Simon, the one with the biceps that all the girls had loved to watch as he cleaned the car.

“Help me.” She’d begged him.

He’d looked around, desperate to find keys, a bolt cutter. She could hear his breathing speed up and her attention was pulled in by the way his heartbeat raged as he came closer. She tried to warn him when a shadow came up behind him and hit him on the head. The man, bald, white and way too tall leaned over him, and pulled up Simon’s head. He brushed his fingers along the younger man’s face before he picked up a knife and cut into his wrist. Simon was still unconscious when the man pushed his bleeding wrist in the teen’s mouth. Simon almost gagged, before his mouth started swallowing the dark fluid.

Sharon cried, she didn’t realize why, but her eyes kept following the trail of blood until it ended. She needed, needed…

She needed the chains; they were the only thing that could keep her from breaking now. They were the only thing that would keep Dad and the boys safe from her. She tore open the window of the warehouse. She crept down the hall, her ears open for any sound. She needed it, needed it so much. She burst through the doors of the main room. It was too quiet. The doors of the freezer stood open. She stared in, the girls were gone, of course they were gone. A rat came scurrying past her. It was too much, soon she was on the floor, grabbing for it. It ran and kept trying to get away, but she was faster. It’s blood trickled past her chin.

She needed, needed more, but she couldn’t get more.
“I’m sorry daddy. So sorry.”

The chains felt even colder than her skin. Sharon clanked one around her wrist, she wondered if it would hurt to starve. Would she still be wholly alive when they found her? Would they? Within the month, within the year? One day the kids would return to the warehouse. They’d realize that there was no one using the place anymore and flock into it with boomboxes and booze. It’s the way it had always been. One group grew out of it, another settled in. They’d find her stuck here, skin over bones. She wondered if they’d come close enough to let her feed.

She quickly locked the second cuff and then she waited, losing herself in the dark. She lay down in a huddle, barely even missing the heat.

“I knew at least one of you would come back here.” Sharon’s mouth fell open in shock, her tongue bracing itself behind double teeth.


“So why did you kill Deputy Stringer, Dean?”

Winchester closed his eyes and ignored them. His fingers tapped a brief staccato. All Emily could think of was the look of Stringer’s body. Purple bruises on his throat, strangled, his neck broken with bare hands; by the hands currently tapping on the table in front of her.

“We talked to the hospital. They said a man fitting your description, brought in two girls, runaways. They’d been missing for a week or so.” In fact, the nurse had said that a man fitting Winchester’s description had burst into the small emergency room. He’d been carrying one girl, while a second one held on to his shoulder just to keep herself from collapsing. All three of them had been covered in blood and the man had been bleeding from a wound on his forehead.

He’d refused treatment for his own injury until they took care of the two girls. He hadn’t left until he was sure that both teens were taken care of.

“How are they?” it was the first thing he said since he’d been returned to the interview room.

Emily stood at the back, letting the older agent take the lead. “Better.” Rossi’s face was calm, as if he was trying to decide on something. Emily shared a glance with him before she continued. “The doctors said they’d lost a lot of blood, and that they would have died if you hadn’t got there when you did.” The girls had been bandaged, their wounds taken care of on a field medic level. But they still would have died if he’d just left them for an ambulance.

She was sure she didn’t imagine the relief in his eyes. It made her wonder. He’d killed eight children, and had done so without hesitation as far as they could see. Yet he’d been worried about two others whose lives he’d saved.

It made no logical sense, unless… unless like him you didn’t see the first group as human anymore.

“So what’s the difference Dean? We know you came to Garber for a reason. Where did you hear about those girls’ disappearances?”

Dean seemed surprised.

“We know you hunt ‘monsters’.” Rossi made it sound sincere, without the flinch of doubt in the word that Emily knew she herself wouldn’t have been able to keep out. “What monsters were you hunting here, what case were you working on?”

“We know about the warehouse. It was empty.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course it was.” He huffed at the very idea that they’d even expected to find anything still there. He stayed silent for a moment.
“I read an article about some hikers going missing near the camp. Camp Dowry.” He repeated the word as if to make sure they were heading in the right direction. “By the time I got there, they still hadn’t found them. A friend of mine helped me look. They were thrown in a well. If … my friend hadn’t helped me, they wouldn’t have found their bodies until someone dragged out that pit. It could have taken years.”

“Did you call the police?”

“I made an anonymous call.” His fingers started tapping a song, it sounded familiar. “They died of exsanguination. Someone drained them of their blood over the period of at least a week. From the looks of it, it would have lasted longer if someone hadn’t cut their throats at the end. The coroner thought a bunch of animals did it, you know, without ever shredding their clothes or ruining their faces.”

“And you’re sure of that.”

“I didn’t do it,” he suddenly insisted, “If that’s what you’re thinking. It’s what you guys like to do, isn’t it, make things nice and tidy?”

“We just want to find the truth.”

Winchester huffed at the very idea.“You can’t handle the truth.”

“Someone, something killed those hikers; the same person who kidnapped those girls, wasn’t it?” Rossi moved in on that.

“I killed the vampire who set them up to die. He just wanted to bring his girls a snack.” Dean sounded disgusted by it. “Tried to give me that whole, ‘we deserve to live too’ crap, same kind that Luther was spouting before dad shot him with the Colt.” That connected the eldest Winchester with at least one solid case. “If they really just wanted to live, he could have lived off animals, cattle mutilation, anything. But most of them never even try.”

“Would you have let them?” Emily asked. “Let them go if they lived off animals?”

Winchester shrugged. “Why not, we hunt monsters that kill people, not freaks that just try and live their lives. We let Lenore go, her and her group.” Emily and Rossi shared a look.

“Is that why you don’t hunt your brother?”

Winchester groaned. He looked like he wanted to slam his head on the table. “I don’t know why I even bother.” He sagged down in his seat. ”You don’t believe me whatever I say. Instead of locking up the good guys, you should take a good look at those bodies I left behind.” He looked up at her, his eyes pierced into hers. “Check their skulls. I’m not lying, Agent Prentiss. I’m not delusional, or screwed up in the head and my dad didn’t brainwash me… or touch me improperly.” He seemed disgusted at the very idea. It seems someone had told Winchester at least some of the theories about him and his brother and he wasn’t happy with it. “Those kids weren’t human. It wasn’t their fault. They were made to drink something and they couldn’t stop themselves. But they’ve killed people and they would have kept on killing until someone came in and stopped them. So I did. They’re better off this way.”

“Better off dead?”
“At least now they’re at peace.”


Vinnie kept expecting the reverend to say something to him. He’d been washing his hands all morning. Yet no one had mentioned a word. He’d pushed the trench coat and the knife into a garbage bag and had stuffed them at the bottom of the container.

Marissa wouldn’t even look at him. She’d gone over to the police station and told them about … about what had happened. Vinnie had offered to go along, to confess. He’d only been trying to protect her after all. She called him silly. She’d looked into his eyes, patted him on the nose and told him he was so cute, being all knight on a white horse, coming to her rescue. Then she kissed him and waved goodbye.

“Satan is coming here. His Vessel, foul with the stench of unrighteousness will burn our ground with his unholy touch. But do not fear.”

He’d stayed here with the reverend.

“Our time will be soon.” The man said. “The time when we will be able to serve the Lord our God and live or die in his name. Amen.”

A loud echo of ‘Amen’ rang through the room before everyone bit into their food. Vinnie kept wondering when the reverend would ask him what he’d done with his daughter. About the stains on Marissa’s bed sheets. About the look in her eyes whenever they shared a room.

But the reverend was too deep in religious ecstasy to notice.


Most of the cops were getting restless, waiting for the ‘lecture’. It was easy to see that most didn’t get why they were here. The bad guy was busted, his partner was coming in, and they felt they should be on the street trying to find the missing girl, instead of sitting here, wasting their time.

Derek knew the feeling. But it wasn’t over. Not yet.

JJ was setting up the board. She looked oddly like the eager teacher’s assistant setting up class. Derek left her to it, while he moved next to Rossi.
“What did the Sheriff say?”

“None of Sharon’s friends heard from her, and none of her stuff is gone. His officers went over the scene with a fine-tooth comb. Nothing.”

“He said she was sick.”

“She could be. It’s probably what scared her enough to run away.”

“Miller won’t like that.”

Rossi nodded before heading to the front of the room.
“This is our primary suspect. His name is Dean Winchester, he’s thirty years old, born in Lawrence, Kansas and has one younger brother Samuel Winchester who is four years his junior.”

The cops sat still, but Derek could feel their impatience from the back of the room.

“When Winchester was four years old, there was a accident, a fire, the boy’s mother, Mary Winchester died. After this, the father, John Winchester, a retired marine and Vietnam veteran, went off the grid and took his two boys on the road with him.”

Emily continued. “It’s assumed, though not confirmed, since Winchester never got psychological counseling after his wife died; that John Winchester had a psychotic break of some sorts. Possibly related to PTSD from his time in Vietnam. He started believing that the world was filled with monsters, demons, ghosts, and every other kind of creepy crawly you can imagine. It could have ended there, but unfortunately for us, with Winchester’s training, it didn’t.”

Rossi picked it up again. “He’s been linked to at least ten separate murder cases, though no connection was ever proven. It’s assumed that he raised his sons as Marines from an early age and trained them to fight monsters. Samuel tried to get away at age eighteen, when he got a full scholarship for Stanford. He stayed away from the family business for four years, until his girlfriend Jessica Moore was murdered. Moore died, apparently in the exact same way that Mary Winchester had died twenty two years earlier on the exact same day.”

Only one or two heads perked up.
“The reason that we don’t assume the case to be over is because of the discrepancies in the cases connected to Winchester. At first it was assumed that Winchester simply varied his MO, but a closer look, both at the crimes involved and the times that the Winchesters arrived or left an area proved this to be impossible. “

This is when Derek came up, handing out a bunch of folders to the cops in the room.

“We have come to believe that the Winchester case follows the vigilante model.”

“What?” One of the cops was halfway out of his chair before he realized everyone had turned to him. He sat down, sort of embarrassed.

“The Winchester brothers tend to arrive in an area linked to mysterious deaths, disappearances, cattle mutilations, and so on. They spend some time forcing themselves into the investigation, interviewing witnesses while pretending to be police officers, rangers, federal agents or whatever other role they feel like playing. Then when they leave the area, the murders, disappearances and so on stop. “ Emily grew quiet as the image on the diorama froze on the image of Dean Winchester in Baltimore.

“So what? They’re some kind of comic book heroes?” The same cop, just as disbelieving as the first time around.

Derek scoffed at the idea. “This isn’t the Punisher and friends. These are two highly messed up young men who are observant, organized and extremely dangerous. Dean Winchester believes in monsters. Both Dean and Sam look for magical solutions for the crimes they are faced with. In some cases they find the actual murderer and kill him. There is no chance for trial or further investigation. They are arrogant to a point and believe they are better suited to stop crimes than the official law forces. “

He fell still and let Rossi take over again. “Not all the people they kill are guilty. Half of them can in no provable way be connected to any crime, not unless you count some superstition as a reason. In some cases, it can be as simple as flinching a bit too hard at hearing the wrong word, standing under the wrong light.”

He remembered the footage from a police recorder. It had been found after a thorough investigation of a mass delusion in New Harmony, an investigation that was still ongoing. The common presumption was that someone had been spreading some kind of hallucinogenic that led to violence and often ended in amnesia. The tape came from a police car that had been found just out of town. It showed an officer getting out of his car and heading up to a black Chevy Impala. There was no sound, but Derek had felt the air freeze around him as he watched Winchester get of the car, simply snap and slice the cop without a second thought. They’d found the officer’s body in the trunk of his car.

“These men need to be brought in, they need to be put on trial and probably be placed in a closed mental institute.” He halted at that point, trying to put emphasis on his words. Then he continued. “But whatever else we may think of him, Winchester wouldn’t have come to this area, unless something triggered him. Something made him believe that there were vampires in the area. A rumor about a bunch of kids reading books about sparkly faced bloodsuckers would not have done the trick.”

“So what, we’re gonna take those freaks delusions seriously?”

“No, but we have to keep in mind that Winchester isn’t a traditional psychopath.” Morgan flipped the blackboard. “Little over a month ago, three hikers disappeared near the area of Camp Dowry. Two weeks ago we got an anonymous phone call leading the authorities to their bodies. All three had been drained of their blood and had their throats ripped out.”

That’s when Emily spoke up: “A week ago, two girls were brought into the emergency room. Both suffered from hypervalemie.” Yep, she’d definitely lost them with that one. “That means they had lost a great deal of blood. They also showed signs they’d been kept imprisoned for a period of time.” She let that sink in for a moment. “They were brought in by a man that fit Dean Winchester’s description.”

Derek took a breath. “Winchester sees himself as a hero, he believes he is saving lives. He can be charming and very convincing. He easily connects with children and makes them feel safe around them. But most of all, he has a new partner who joined his delusions.”

“What we need to do, is find the persons responsible for the original murders and find Winchester’s partner.” JJ moved the image to that of a man with messed up hair and a crooked tie who looked into the camera as if not quite sure what the thing was for. “Before he finishes up Winchester’s murder spree and before the original murderer moves on and starts killing other people to fill his or her own quota.”

“Winchester’s partner, Jimmy Novak, is in his early thirties and seems to be suffering from severe hallucinations and delusions, both of which are symptoms of classic schizophrenia. He first disappeared over a year ago, leaving behind his wife and child. When interrogated by the police, his wife mentioned that he’d been hearing and seeing an angel. The angel told him he was ‘chosen’. Such delusions are common enough and easily treatable with medication, if the patient is willing to take them. Unfortunately Novak refused to take medication. He disappeared a few days later.“

“That is incorrect.” Derek turned around, realizing the man whose picture was in front of them was standing in the room with them. Over a dozen officers seemed ready to shoot at him, yet for some reason, Novak didn’t move an inch.


Tags: eat it twilight

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