crossoverfic | [FIC] That Little Voice Said... Ch 4 , T , BDS/BtVS/Supernatural crossover

[FIC] That Little Voice Said... Ch 4 , T , BDS/BtVS crossover

Title: That Little Voice Said…
Author: dhark_charlotte
Fandoms: Crossover with BtVS and Boondock Saints.
Rating: T for language
Warnings: Just language.
Pairings : No pairings
Character(s): Oz, Connor & Murphy MacManus, John, Dean & Sam Winchester
Summary: He didn’t know why he stopped to offer a ride.

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural, Boondock Saints or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The men are just so much fun to play with, I can’t resist.

A/N: I did use two lines from the BDS movie, slightly altered.

Without Fear

“Tonight’s a good night for a hunt.”

The sound of Cain’s voice breaking the strange quiet of the room was disturbing to the three Winchesters. Tearing his gaze from the door, John looked at him curiously, wondering if the man was serious about going after the men that just exited the bar and why.

“Dad!” Sam’s voice hissed across the room. John looked back at the boys and saw Dean watching his younger brother curiously and Sam motioning his father to join them. He turned back to the other man. “Be back in a minute.” Cain only grunted in response, his attention aimed at the van departing the parking lot with a spray of gravel.

John made it to Sam in a few strides, waved off the bartender and asked, “Did you hear what those men were talking about Sammy?”

Sam looked over at the other Hunter and saw the man step outside. He pulled his dad toward the bar. “He’s not serious about going after those guys, is he dad?”

“I’m not sure son. Now answer my question.”

“It was Gaelic. If they’re who I think they are, then it was a Blessing they were performing. The last line was in Latin. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

“So, not demons then.” Dean said, keeping his focus on the door Cain had exited through.

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s observation. “No! Not demons. Did you notice the tattoos on the two brothers?”

“How do you know they’re brothers?” Sam squirmed slightly under his father’s sharp query.

Sighing quietly, he replied, “Look, remember those news articles from Boston, the ones from last year?”

Dean checked the door again. “The mob killings?”

“Yes!” Sam grinned at his brother’s incredulous expression.

“The Saints?” Dean’s tone was skeptical.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the tattoos, the rosaries and the eerie way they moved in sync. If nothing else, the blessing they laid on the guy with them. I mean, he was completely freaking out and when they were done, he was perfectly fine.”

“You’re such a fan-girl Sammy.” Dean’s smirk was affectionate and Sam rolled his eyes.

“It’s Sam you jerk.”

Dean waved his hand in dismissal. “Whatever. So they said some prayer over him. That could have been anything.”

Shaking his head, Sam grabbed his brother’s arm. “No, you couldn’t see him.” He turned to his dad, anxious to convince them. “Dad I think the guy with them is a werewolf and a powerful one at that.”

John leaned back on his heels, arms crossed as he studied his youngest. “What makes you say that?”

“Because during his freakout, the dude’s hands started morphing and I heard the light haired guy say he needed to get a hold of himself, that it was still eight hours ‘til moonrise.”

John shared a tense look with Dean. “If he is a werewolf, we have to take care of it.”

Frustrated, Sam raised his voice. “So you’re going to hunt them with that Cain guy?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I think we can assume that the MacManus brothers are aware of his condition and they’ve probably taken steps to control it.” The exasperation Sam was feeling leaked into his tone and John sent him a sharp frown.

Dean shook off Sam’s hand and squared off with him. “Werewolves are killers Sammy. Not to mention that nasty tendency of the infection spreading like the flu if their victims manage to survive.”

“Dean, you couldn’t see this guy. He started to transform in broad daylight but was able to control it enough to revert back. The three of them left quietly and without threatening anyone directly. There haven’t been any wild animal attacks reported around here in several years. Maybe he gets locked up during the full moon. Or do we automatically assume that anyone who gets infected by lycanthropy is evil and therefore deserves to die?”

John held up his hand, hoping to delay the inevitable explosion between his sons. “That’s enough Sammy.”

“You never listen to me and that guy is gonna get you killed.” Sam growled in aggravation.

John raised his eyebrows. “And you know that how?”

Scowling, he crossed his arms and looked down. “He gives me the creeps and I don’t trust him.”

Dean snorted. “You girl.” He faced John. “Look dad, I don’t trust this Cain guy either. What did Ellen tell you about him?”

“Not enough.” John sighed and scrubbed his face, suddenly weary. “Okay, if these men are the Saints, I don’t want this guy to either kill them or get killed.” He motioned the boys closer and as they leaned in, he continued, “This is what we’ll do…”

------------------------

Cain walked back inside and noticed that Winchester and his two boys were talking over by the bar. He snorted in amusement as the taller one began to get visibly angry. The shorter one, Dean? Grabbed his brother and hauled him through the door, dragging the young man’s large frame outside. John looked around the room and spotted Cain seated at their previously abandoned table and headed over.

“Trouble with your boys?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with. I sent them to take care of that haunting over in the next county.” John carefully studied the other Hunter. “You seemed to know those men.”

Cain shook his head. “Just one. Punk with the green hair. You could say that he’s the one that got away.”

“Got away? Are you telling me that kid isn’t human?”

“Nope. Oh, he looks human enough. Except for three nights of the month.”

“A werewolf? He got away and you’re still alive? How did you manage that?”

Cain gripped his mug tightly enough that John was sure the glass would either break or squirt out of the man’s hands. “Had some friend’s helping him and I was out numbered. Been keeping a watch out for him though. Knew he would have to leave Sunnydale sometime.”

“Sunnydale? California? What sort of idiot Hunts near the Hellmouth? Do you have a death wish?”

Cain shrugged. “I was close by, heard about some suspicious attacks that didn’t fall under the usual excuses and decided to check it out.” He looked up at John with a smug grin. “Turns out I was right. There were two of them. Managed to bag the first one before some uppity blonde girl and her friends stepped in and ruined my plans for that one.” He gestured toward the door.

“So what’s the plan for tonight? It’s the second night, so we’ll have to find them by tomorrow night at the latest.”

Cain looked at John warily. “You want to come with me?”

“I can’t very well leave you to take these men on all by yourself, now can I?”

Cain’s eyes took on a strange gleam and it was all John could do to repress the involuntary shiver. Malevolence seemed to roll off the man in waves and John was close to calling off the whole thing. The only assurance Cain wasn’t possessed was the small cross hanging from the man’s neck. Struck by a sudden conviction, he steeled his resolve and maintained his bland expression.

Cain’s voice brought John back to the present. “I saw the direction they went as they drove off. There’s only one area secluded enough that way for them to avoid running into someone.” He leaned closer, “Here’s the plan…”

----------------------------

Oz hadn’t said a word since they had left the bar and the twins were unsettled by his silence. It wasn’t the silence per say, since Oz was by his very nature, a quiet man, but the quality of it was worrisome. It was tense and even without preternatural senses, the MacManus brothers felt Oz’s stress and fear as it filled the enclosure of the van. It was a testimony to his distraction that he allowed Connor to take the wheel with out argument.

“Oz.” The Were’ jumped at the feel of Murphy’s hand gripping his shoulder. “You’ve got to talk to us mate. Tell us what’s goin’ through that head o’ yours. Do we need to keep driving?”

“Bad idea. But so is staying here. He’s going to be hunting for me.”

“What’s his name?”

“Cain.”

“That’s appropriate.”

“He’s a good Hunter guys. The only reason he hasn’t caught up to me before now is the fact that I use that cage during the moon and keep to myself. I do everything possible to prevent my wolf from killing or infecting anyone and I try very hard to not leave a trail.”

Connor could see that Oz was becoming agitated again and placed his right hand next to Murphy’s on the Were’s shoulder.

“We’ve got it covered mate.” They said.

“Dudes! I’m freaked enough. You gotta stop doin’ that wiggy twin thing.”

“Don’t worry man.” Murphy squeezed his shoulder as Connor gave Oz an oddly reassuring pat. “We’ll take care of it.”

--------------------------

Trailing behind Cain, John’s uneasiness grew. They halted at the tree line and John could see a van parked in a clearing. The moon shined brighter than the small visible fire and revealed a form slouched against a log near the warmth, a half empty bottle balanced precariously on the wood. Both men visually searched the area for the other man, but found no one else. Cain turned to John and spoke in a barely audible tone. “We should circle around and check for the other one.” Convinced he would have to take out the other Hunter; John nodded and followed the man, keeping a watchful eye out for the unexpected.

Cain was surprisingly silent and surefooted. The men crossed a small creek and found the dark haired MacManus passed out against a tree, hands resting in his lap. The odor of whiskey was strong and John wondered at their carelessness.

As they approached the back of the van, the sight of the built-in cage visible from the open rear doors didn’t really come as a shock to the eldest Winchester. Despite Sam’s accusation, John quite often listened to his youngest son’s intuition and advice. His sin was not acknowledging it verbally. He looked toward the other MacManus brother and it appeared that the man was equally inebriated and oblivious.

Cain’s breathing sped up as a large wolf rose from the blanket in the cage and growled menacingly. John watched with horror as the man raised his rifle and aimed at the defenseless animal.

“Like shooting fish in a barrel.”

His vision turned red and, without thinking, John turned his shotgun around and brought it down on the back of Cain’s head with a sick crunch. “Sick bastard!"

There was a brief moment of silence, not even the wolf made a sound.

The simultaneous clicking of multiple guns chilled John to the bone and his gaze whirled toward the fire. The ManManus brothers were standing straight and unwavering as they aimed their guns at him. In sync, guns bobbed, indicating the men’s order for John to drop his weapon. He set his shotgun down carefully and raised his hands. The caged wolf was still eerily silent and goose bumps shivered across his body. The sound of additional firearms made ready caused John to close his eyes. At this point, he couldn’t really say whether he was relieved or even more frightened.

The dark brother raised his brows in surprise. “You’ll be wantin’ ta tell those boys of yours to put down their guns John Winchester.”

“We’ve no urging ta kill ye or yer boys, but we will protect our own.” The other man sent John a knowing smile. “You’ve an understanding of tha’ I reckon.”

The sound of his name spoken by the darker man startled John. “How do you know my name?”

“Hear, o my sons, and receive my sayings; and the years of thy life shall be many.” Connor answered him with a cryptic quotation from the bible.

Dean’s voice was worried as it shot through the darkness to his side. “Dad! What the hell is going on?”

“That we being delivered out of the hand of our enemies might serve Him without fear all the days of our life.” Murphy smiled as he holstered his guns and moved to the unconscious Cain, making quick work of hog tying the man before dragging his body passed the tree line. When he came back, he sent his twin a smirk and sat near the back of the van, facing the fire.

Connor followed Murphy’s example and put away his guns. “Mr. Winchester, would ye be so kind as to ask your boys to join us?” He stepped to the fire and picked up a bottle. Soon after John’s nod Sam and Dean stepped into the firelight, guns still trained on the twins. Connor smiled and waved them over. “Now, why don't ya pull up a log and ‘ave a drink with us and we can talk about why good men such as yourselves were traveling with the likes of that trash?”

Shocked, the three Winchesters took in the scene. The MacManus Twins sat by the fire with what looked to be a bottle of Michael Collins single malt. In the background, an unnaturally quiet werewolf sat calmly behind a cage built in the back of a large van.

“Ya don't have ta be hard asses, do ya? We're trying ta be civil here, so I suggest you take our offer.” Murphy said, his voice ending with an irritated growl.

Dean eyed the whiskey and then his father. Another subtle nod from John and the boys put away their guns and took a seat on the other side of the fire from the van.

Connor held out the bottle to Dean, “I’m Connor.” He points to his brother. “And tha’s me little brother Murphy.”

“Fuck you! Ma never said one way or ta other ye shit head. For all we know, you’re the younger. Member what she said…”

“Shut it you. I tol’ ye I had ice on mine. No fair comparin’ then. And no use now. You know we’re the same.” The twins laughed at each other good naturedly.

Dean accepted the bottle from Connor with a grin, took a healthy swig, and promptly wheezed, much the amusement of the Irish Saints. Sam took the bottle, passed it to his dad and elbowed his brother. “Wuss.”

“Oh right,” Dean rasped. “You didn’t even take a drink Samantha.”

“Someone’s got to drive us back you jerk.”

“Yeah right, like I’m gonna let you drive my baby.”

“You take another drink of that stuff and I’ll take the keys myself.” John’s gravelly voice cut off the impending argument.

“Aww, dad!”

“In fact…” He held out his hand. “Hand ‘em over son.”

“Yes Sir.” Grumbling, Dean dug the keys out and tossed them to his father and choked in outrage when Murphy leaned over and snatched the Impala keys out of the air and then proceeded to toss them into the werewolf’s cage.

“What the FUCK did you do that for?” Dean yelled, the vein in his neck pulsing rapidly.

Murphy’s face was a mask of serenity. “Ah, don’ get yer knickers in a twist mate. The wee beastie only eats meat and Oz’ll be sure to give ‘em to ya in the morn’.”

Dean stared at his father in shock and then turned back to Murphy. “Fuck me! I…”

“Sorry mate, pretty as you are, you’re not my type.”

Dean shot him a disgusted glare as Sam fell off the back of the log, laughing hysterically.

TBC...

Probably only one more chapter since our dear Oz has to be on his way to England soon.

Please let me know what you think?