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hunting 101

Hunting 101 - Wednesday

"Okay, kids," Dean said, taking a seat on the teacher's desk. Look at him being all teacherly. And nary a dodgeball in sight! "Today we're gonna talk about shape-shifters. The kind that can turn into anyone they want, not the ones that grow fur and fangs. Those'll be covered next week."

"I apologize to anyone who ate right before class, because this might get kind of gross," Sam said with his best puppyface. "Like Dean said, shape-shifters can take on the appearance of anyone they want, and the ones we're familiar with do it by, well, shedding their skin with each new appearance. Literally."

That got a smile out of Dean. Because he was a twisted individual. "If they see you, they can look like you. And if they look like you, they start being able to think like you. And we mean literally. They have some weird ability to get your memories and and mannerisms. Which makes them harder than hell to catch when they start killing people."

"Not all of them are automatically killers," Sam said. He was still determined to be the diplomatic one here. "But it's pretty easy to get away with crimes when you can change how you look whenever authorities get too close."

"Or impersonate the cop investigating the crime..." Dean shook his head. "Easy way to check. Cameras. They can look normal everywhere but on film. Their eyes glow like they're on fire or something."

"And, probably obviously, finding a pile of gross skin sitting around is a bad sign too." This was the anti-eating class, seriously.

"Oh, and teeth. Hair too." DAMN IT, BOYS. Dean clapped his hands together. "Alright, how to stop these suckers is simple. Silver works on them. If you're fresh out of silver... decapitation. Which works for a lot of things, really. When it doubt, remove the head and burn the remains."

"We're not going to have you practice that sort of thing yet." Suck it up, Dean. "For now, we're going to give you guys some cameras and have you practice your photography skills. Taking pictures when something strange is going on is always a good idea in general. Snapping good shots of suspicious people takes a little practice, so try to get your shots without stopping and focusing for too long. You might not get the chance to take your time."

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"Silver blades or bullets will kill them," Dean replied, looking away from the pictures on his phone. "Dunno why, but it works."

"I'm pretty sure that'll kill most things, if you hit them right," she pointed out.

"And other things will get back up only angrier," Dean shot back.

"I'd be pretty angry, too, if you tried to stab me. Even if I was a criminal." Really, now.

"Murderer," Dean corrected. "We could care less about a little theft. The only time these things draw attention is when they start slicing into people."

Or stealing babies. But that was different.

Edited 2013-06-05 17:57 (UTC)

"Things." Raven scowled, her eyes going gold for a few moments before she got herself back under control. "So, what, do you go around killing human murderers, too, or is it just because they're a little bit different?"

Hey now. No one claimed he was a stable individual.

Dean sat up, posture far more alert than before. "Cops can actually stop them," Dean replied. "They're clueless when it comes to unusual crap."

"Sounds to me like that's a problem with the cops." The gold was back, and sticking around, this time. Honestly, the part of Raven concerned with keeping her cover was mostly just glad she was limiting her freak out to her eyes, here, instead of going full on blue. "It's not a shapeshifter's fault that the rest of the world can't keep up."

"You got something to share with the class?" Dean asked. "They're killing people and framing someone else for it to keep going. You have no problem with that?"

Hey, he was giving her a chance! Kind of.

Well, she certainly didn't have any desire to get stabbed with a silver knife. Though she might be tracking one down later just to be sure for herself that he was full of crap. "That doesn't make them things," she said, almost hissing it, her voice low. "Maybe they didn't have a choice. Maybe they grew up just trying to pass for 'normal'. You have any idea what that's like?"

Because, okay, yeah. It sometimes made her kinda want to kill people.

"A shitty childhood doesn't excuse anyone from killing innocent people," Dean replied. "Being different doesn't excuse it either. You get any urges to see what color people are on the inside, you're a monster. Got it?"

Which was possibly how a certain someone saw themselves after a little stint in hell. Which. You know. Perfectly rational.

"Shitty childhood?!" There was a flicker of blue as her hand shifted, like a series of blue scales flipping over to reveal -- her hand, all nice and pale and caucasian as she swallowed the urge to show him just how different she actually was.

She had a moment of wondering what her brother would do in this sort of situation. Probably very patiently explain to Dean that no one was beyond redemption and to simply pass them off as monsters was dangerous and only put them in more of a position to commit terrible crimes. And then possibly just wipe the whole conversation out of Dean's brain when that didn't work.

Raven was not her brother.

"What does that make you then, huh? You kill, too."

Oh now, that got a flinch out of him.

"It makes me the person who is saving people from the big, bad monsters in the closet. You think anyone starts doing this job for kicks?"

No, they start it due to extreme trauma! And poor parenting. SORRY, JOHN.

"And how do we know that you're the one who should be deciding who's the monster?" Raven had calmed down enough now to shift her eyes back from their natural gold. She folded her arms over her chest and tilted her head at him. "You find out someone's killing people, find a shapeshifter, and then, what, assume they must be the one doing it? Stab them with your silver knife, watch them explode, and call yourself a hero?"

What? He said shapeshifters in his world pulled off their skin. Exploding wasn't any weirder than that.

"Yeah, it sure must be nice on your high horse," Dean shot back, leaning into her space. "I don't call myself anything. I do the job and people live. End of story."

"Except the people you kill," Raven said, eyes flashing gold again. This conversation was doing nothing for her control. "And now you're teaching teenagers to spot and kill those people without really getting into any of the 'only if you're mostly sure they're killing other people' part."

"I'm teaching them how to defend themselves," Dean replied, eyes hard. "You've got a personal interest in this, I know. Maybe shit's different where you're from. But that's how it is where Sam and I are from."

"Where I'm from, I grew up in hiding because people were more interested in 'defending themselves from monsters' than bothering to try and understand that sometimes little girls are born with blue scales. Only difference I'm seeing here right now is the texture of the skin."

"You got the urge to eat someone or kill 'em?"

"I'm not psychotic," Raven said. "But, yeah, I really get angry sometimes. Don't you?"

Dean frowned, looking away. Mmmm. Anger issues and PTSD.

"I'm an angry guy," he replied sarcastically. "But I don't go after anything that is living peacefully."

"Sometimes it's really easy to blame the 'thing' for not living peacefully."

"Yeah, actually it is. Some thing killed my mom. And my dad. And my brother." He flashed her a quick, joyless smile. "So, yeah."

"Some people killed my parents." She had no idea if that was true. But it stood to reason. "That doesn't make all of them evil. How are you making sure the 'thing' you're going after is the 'thing' that actually did it?"

"We investigate it. Make sure it's not some pyscho human." Which, you know, happened occasionally.

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