Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Supernatural. It belongs to the wonderful Eric Kripke. Nor do I own the characters of Cal and Niko Leandros. They are the creation of author Rob Thurman.
Monsters Come Calling
By: Vanessa Sgroi
Dean felt the tip of a knife press into the soft skin under his jaw, and he tensed, swearing under his breath in disgust that he hadn't heard the threat slip up behind him.
"Let him go." The soft, but deadly cold, voice sounded from behind him.
"No." Dean tightened his arm around the neck of the guy he was currently restraining. The guy—young kid really—who'd dared put his hands on Sam—who still had his hands on Sam. Dean had made a quick food run, returning to find this dark-haired asshole just inside their motel room door, pulling and yanking at an injured Sam, who was doing his best to resist despite a couple of cracked ribs and badly sprained wrist and ankle. A mild concussion—enough to make him a little shaky on his feet—further hampered his resistive efforts. Though sheer size alone, when compared to his attacker, was working in his favor.
"I said let him go." The honed tip of the knife dug deeper, drawing forth several beads of bright red blood.
"No! Not until HE takes his hands off my brother."
"Cal, let him go."
Cal gasped and struggled to get words past the constriction at his throat. "N-N-No. N-Nik . . ."
"Cal!" It was a warning and an order all rolled into one.
Through the fog of terror he was feeling, Cal Leandros knew that tone—heard the unflinching order—and instinctively obeyed his older brother. He slowly uncurled his shaking fingers from around the tall man's bicep and dropped his hands.
The second the kid let go, Dean loosened his hold and pushed him—Cal—forward slightly as he dodged to the left and spun to face the threat behind him. As he did so, Dean pulled his Colt 1911 from its resting place in the small of his back. He was surprised to see that his own attacker—a blond man in a long black coat—was several inches away from him and the weapon he'd thought was a knife was actually a rather impressive looking sword. He noted that the blond man dropped the tip of the sword toward the floor but did not move to put it away. Nor did he appear intimidated in anyway by the sight of the Colt's barrel aimed at his heart.
"What the hell is going on here?" Dean growled, as he backed up and moved closer to Sam. "I leave my brother—my injured brother—for a lousy 15 minutes to get him some food," he gestured to the fast food bag and upended cups he'd dropped when he'd walked through the door, "and I come back to find this sonuvabitch . . ."
The sword tip swung north. "Careful. That's my little brother you're referring to."
"Whatever. I come back to find him trying to freakin' pull off a kidnapping or something."
The blond man raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he assessed the two tall strangers before him. Niko was not a trusting soul by any means, but there was something about these two.
A soft moan sounded and both pairs of elder brother's eyes were drawn to their respective siblings.
The younger Winchester shook his head, indicating it hadn't been he who'd made the sorrowful sound.
"Cal?" Niko slid forward toward his younger brother, heedless of the gun still trained on him. The Winchester brothers continued to eye them warily.
"Cal? Tell me what's going on." The elder Leandros sibling had only heard his brother make such a noise on a few of occasions. None of them good.
"Niko, we . . . w-w-we h-have to get out of here," Cal was practically stuttering and his eyes were glazed. "T-They're coming."
Dean could hear the stark terror in the dark-haired kid's voice. He growled, "Who's coming?"
Both Cal and Niko ignored his question.
Niko laid a hand on Cal's shoulder. "Why here? How did you know?"
"George. S-She saw something—bad. But she couldn't see what exactly. Just where. I-I came to warn . . . them, but . . ." Cal's voice trailed off and he froze. He could feel the strange vibration in the air rippling against his skin and knew exactly what was about to happen.
"Nik! It's too late. They're here!"
Suddenly, the corner of the room dissolved into a round hole—a swirling obsidian void and two creatures emerged. Creatures unlike Dean or Sam had ever seen before—gray and wizened, uglier than holy hell, with a plethora of needle sharp teeth that dripped with thick, rancid saliva. The first one charged with incredible speed, knocking Dean into the wall and slapping his gun from his hand, its claws leaving four deep bloody welts behind. Without hesitation, Dean palmed one of his knives and lashed out at the thing, opening a wound on its shoulder. It wobbled for a split second. That was all it took. Dean saw the blond man, Niko, raise his sword with incredible speed and in one lightning fast move decapitate the monster closest to them. As the creature's head sailed away in the opposite direction, its body danced and jerked before finally collapsing in a heap.
Tearing his eyes from the creature's death throes, Dean immediately searched out his brother. "Sam!" The other beast currently had its hands locked around Sam's throat and was doing its best to drag him toward the freaky hole still undulating in the corner. He saw the kid, Cal, launch himself at the monster.
"No!" Cal landed on the Auphe's back. He plunged the knife he held into its body, not stopping until it reached the hilt. Swiftly pulling it out, he struck again and again, ignoring the disgusting stench as blood spurted. The final plunge of the knife severed the Auphe's spinal cord and he folded to the floor with a cross between a growl and a grunt.
Another mysterious, but smaller, hole suddenly opened directly behind Cal. He wrapped his hand around the tall man's wrist and tugged him backward.
"Niko, run! More are coming!" Cal pulled once more, hard, and he and Sam disappeared into the hole. Sam's feet where barely through when the hole wavered and closed in on itself. Just as it disappeared, Dean and Niko saw another set of withered limbs emerging from the original portal. Before the monster was even cleared the edge, Niko ran it through with his sword. He turned and quickly headed for the door.
Dean reached out and grabbed the blond man by the arm as he hurried by. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell just happened to my brother. Where is he?"
Niko's cold eyes locked onto Dean's face. "Stay here and die then." He stalked out the door.
Anger roared through the elder Winchester. He snatched his gun off the floor and grabbed their weapons bag before following the blond man out of the motel room.
"This way," commanded Niko, breaking into a run.
Five long blocks later, Dean dragged Niko to a stop, nearly tackling the man to do so. Drawing in deep draughts of air, he growled, "Tell me where my brother is. Now." He punctuated his demand with by cocking the Colt and shoving it at Niko's temple. The other man didn't so much as flinch.
"To be perfectly honest, I am hoping they are at our apartment."
"Your apartment? How the hell could they possibly be—"
"There's no time to explain. Let's just say that Cal has . . . a special talent and leave it at that for the moment."
"Hell no! Why should I trust you . . . or your freaky-assed punk of a brother?"
Dean saw the tightening around the other man's mouth and saw his eyes turn as hard as granite.
"I told you once before to watch how you talked about my brother. I wasn't kidding."
It was then that something clicked for Dean—a frisson of trust sparked. The elder Winchester took a final deep breath and lowered his weapon, tucking it into the small of his back once more.
"Just tell me—is he okay?"
He full on met Niko's steadfast gaze.
"If they landed at the apartment—then yes."
It was then that Dean heard Niko's worry for his own little brother. It really didn't go a long way toward easing his fear.
"How much farther to your apartment?"
"A few more blocks."
"Let's go then."
The two men took off again at a jog. They reached the building ten minutes later and started the climb up the stairs to the fourth floor. Dean waited impatiently for Niko to get the door open. The second he did, both men squeezed through the door side-by-side.
Dean felt the tension flow from body when he spotted Sam sitting on the floor in front of the couch. He was surrounded by a number of scattered books.
Sam tensed, ready to fight, when he heard the door to the apartment open. When he saw his brother, Sam sighed in relief before looking down worriedly at something on the couch. Seconds later, Niko and Dean were across the room and looking at Cal who lay unconscious and sprawled awkwardly there.
"Sam, what happened?" Dean inquired anxiously.
Sam scrubbed a hand over his face and then winced in discomfort when his injuries throbbed. "One minute we were at the motel. Then we were falling. And then—wham—we were here. Just missed hitting the coffee table when we landed. H-He was okay. I thought so anyway. We both stood up. I started to ask a question, and he just put a hand to his forehead and went down." Sam swallowed hard in agitation, feeling guilty like he'd done something to Cal. "I-I picked him up the best I could and laid him on the couch."
Niko reached out and brushed the hair back off Cal's forehead.
"I-I'm sorry that I couldn't . . . didn't . . . do more," muttered Sam.
"Not your fault. He expends a lot of energy when he creates a portal. Too much if you ask me. He'll sleep for a while."
"While he's out, I think we better have a talk," said Dean.
Without moving a muscle, Niko eyed both brothers from head to toe, deciding how much he wanted to tell them. After a moment, decision made, he gave a curt nod. "Let's go into the kitchen."
Dean reached down and gently helped Sam get to his feet. "You okay? No new injuries from your freaky . . . trip?"
"Nah. I'm fine." His hiss of pain when he moved belied his words.
"Yeah, you're fine all right," muttered his older sibling.
The trio moved to the kitchen where Niko motioned for them to have a seat at the small table.
"You want me to look at that hand?"
"Your hand. Those scratches are deep. They're still bleeding. And, trust me, they should be cleaned."
"Nah, I'm good."
Sam glared at him from across the table until he relented.
He would have preferred that Sam take care of him, but he didn't want to burden him.
"Fine," he dropped his hand on the table, "Go ahead."
Niko made quick work of treating the wounds on Dean's arm and hand. He cleaned up his mess without a word and turned away. A few minutes later he placed mugs in front of each of them. Three small brown tablets accompanied Sam's.
Dean scowled into the mug. "What's this?"
His scowl grew darker. "Tea?"
"Yes. Wild Holy Tea for us. Purple Lapacho Tea for your brother."
"Uhh . . . no coffee?" Dean felt Sam's foot connect with his shin under the table.
"This is better for you. Sam's has healing properties. That and the Advil should have him feeling better soon."
Niko joined them at the table.
Figuring he'd made enough small talk, Dean began asking the questions that were burning through his mind. "So what were those things?"
"They're known as Auphe. Elves. But not the cute, Keebler kind.
"Why were they after my brother?"
"I don't know. But, they've been after Cal all his life."
For the next half hour Niko explained the monsters who had attacked them in the motel room. Neither brother seemed at all surprised by what he told them. Though Dean tensed and twitched when Niko revealed that Cal was half-Auphe and told them about his burgeoning ability to open portals out of thin air.
"So let me get this straight. Your brother is half-monster."
Niko's voice grew wintery cold. "My brother has more good human qualities than most full blood humans. He went to your motel room specifically to warn you of danger."
"But he's still a . . ."
"Dean, stop," muttered Sam.
The tension in the room thickened. Niko rose and began to pull stuff from the refrigerator. "Since your dinner was so rudely interrupted, I assume you're both still hungry. I'll make us all something to eat."
Twenty minutes later, Cal stumbled into the kitchen and flopped bonelessly into a chair, dropping his head into his hands. The tension in the room was palpable. Through his longish bangs, he looked at Niko who was just about to serve up dinner.
"Oh, God! You mean you let Nik talk you into eating one of his healthy dinners?" "I dunno if that makes you guys extremely brave or extremely stupid."
"Cal . . ."
Niko's voice was laced with warning, and Cal rolled his eyes.
Dean stared at the food on his plate and poked at it with a fork. "Healthy? Do I even want to know?"
Cal snorted. "No."
Sam's foot again connected with his shin. "Try it, Dean. It's not bad."
Both Dean and Cal stared at Sam in outright astonishment. Cal shook his head. "Not bad? You should have been here for breakfast this morning. A bran rock and a liquefied grass chaser."
Cal gave his older brother with a pleading look. "Nik, c'mon, can't I go down to Art's Cart and get a chili cheese dog with everything? I swear it'll get me back on my feet in no time."
"Chili cheese dog?" Dean's voice was hopeful. "Did you say chili cheese dog? Loaded with everything?"
Nik took a bite of his food and stared at his younger brother. "One chili cheese dog now, two extra hours of training later."
Cal considered it, he really did. In the end though, he decided it wasn't worth it and picked up his fork. They all turned their attention to their meals, two with decidedly more enthusiasm. When they were finished, Cal got up and began to clear the table. When he reached for Dean's half-finished plate, the man with the intense green eyes grabbed his arm and pulled him down until his mouth was near his ear.
"Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes. I'll buy."